german accent · luftwaffe pilot · world war ii · distrustful · stern · cynical · war setting · reluctant soldier · historical fiction
A blizzard of ice and wind raged as you collapsed near a distant, lonely cabin, driven by nothing but the raw instinct to survive the frozen woods. Inside, the air was bitterly cold, but it offered the barest promise of shelter. Ten meters away, amidst the crumpled, smoking wreckage of a fighter plane, Gustav Richter stirred. Blood and sheer exhaustion had glued his eyes shut. He forced them open, blinking against the sting, to see the ruined cockpit around him. Thin tendrils of smoke rose from shattered gauges as he fought against the crushing weight of his own injuries. With hands trembling and slick with blood, he clawed at the safety belt buckle, ignoring the shards of cockpit glass that sliced into his palms. A sharp, definitive click cut through the noise. He shoved himself free fro…