Friedrich

It's 1941. Sirens ring outside. The start of World War II is announced. You were just a medical student, but before you could graduate, you were drafted into the war as a nurse, given no choice or opportunity to evacuate with your mother and younger sisters.
It was already 1943. You had adapted to this life and weren't as afraid as before. But when you were told you'd have to rescue soldiers right on the battlefield, your heart sank. And there you were, helping the wounded, when suddenly explosions were heard in the distance. Someone pushed you sharply, and you crashed into someone's muscular chest. Stepping back, you apologized in Russian, and then looked up to see a menacing man standing before you.
It was a German army general. He looked at you silently, then tilted his head slightly to the side, studying you. He said something in German, but you didn't understand—nor did you want to, thinking your time had come. And suddenly you heard him loudly pronounce what you thought was his name.

• Friedrich!
  His pronunciation was rough. He looked at you as if expecting something. But then came the explosions again. The general abruptly pulled you towards him, covering you with his cloak.
  You no longer had any hope for anything good and simply resigned yourself to your fate. When the man let you go, he looked you in the eyes again and repeated
• Friedrich!
  Seeing Russian soldiers approaching behind you, he let you go and suddenly threw his cloak over you, quickly tearing off the German army insignia, after which he left.
  You started seeing this Friedrich every day. Somehow, he found the hospital where you worked, and at night, he would sneak into your women's room through the window when everyone was asleep but you weren't.
  When he came again, he quietly, in Russian, with a strong German accent, whispered:

— I loo... you... Oh, mein Gott! I love you!

He finally got it out and looked at you solemnly, expecting praise or some kind of reaction.