England held him as he cried. Poland didn’t have to listen to the broadcasts. He could feel what was happening. The Polish Home Army had risen up against the Nazis in Warsaw. They had been fighting now for 45 days. Feliks could see them full of pride and hope, faces set in determination, dirt painted on their cheeks. At first he’d been so happy, his people were making a stand. They were re-taking the capital. But the fighting just kept going. The Nazis weren’t giving up Warsaw and neither was his people. Supplies were running low. First food started to get scarce, then bandages, then ammo.
The Red Army was halted on the banks of the Vistula. Feliks could feel the press of their tanks on his spine. They had the supplies that his soldiers so badly needed. The Red Army, their ally, was letting his people be slaughtered needlessly.
“Your people are strong they will keep fighting,” England whispered the words like they were a secret. But Poland knew. He knew they’d keep fighting, now that the spark had been struck they’d keep fighting until no one was left.
“Why won’t they come?” Poland wanted to yell. He wanted to rage. Instead tears fell and that only made him angrier. “Russia is our ally! If he came we could get those damn Nazis,” Poland sobbed instead.
England shushed him. Poland fell asleep in his arms, sobbing and angry.
Poland was on the base the next day. His squadron would be going out for a raid later that evening. They were being debriefed in twenty minutes. Two men passed as Poland puttered about his plane.
He caught their conversation, “-got the go ahead to send in low-level supply drops to Warsaw.”
Poland stopped moving, his breath caught in his throat. Supply drops to… Warsaw? He dropped his hands on the smooth metal of his plane. His heart was pounding in his chest.
“Did Churchill get the Soviet’s clearance for us to go into their air space?”
The blonde nation dry swallowed, fucking politics, always a nightmare. His ears perked as a deep laugh rang out, “No, but we’re going in anyway.”
The two men wandered away laughing and talking about the raids that were scheduled. Poland smirked. He totally loved England.
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Re: England/Poland - during WWII
(Anonymous) 2012-01-29 07:00 am (UTC)(link)England held him as he cried. Poland didn’t have to listen to the broadcasts. He could feel what was happening. The Polish Home Army had risen up against the Nazis in Warsaw. They had been fighting now for 45 days. Feliks could see them full of pride and hope, faces set in determination, dirt painted on their cheeks. At first he’d been so happy, his people were making a stand. They were re-taking the capital. But the fighting just kept going. The Nazis weren’t giving up Warsaw and neither was his people. Supplies were running low. First food started to get scarce, then bandages, then ammo.
The Red Army was halted on the banks of the Vistula. Feliks could feel the press of their tanks on his spine. They had the supplies that his soldiers so badly needed. The Red Army, their ally, was letting his people be slaughtered needlessly.
“Your people are strong they will keep fighting,” England whispered the words like they were a secret. But Poland knew. He knew they’d keep fighting, now that the spark had been struck they’d keep fighting until no one was left.
“Why won’t they come?” Poland wanted to yell. He wanted to rage. Instead tears fell and that only made him angrier. “Russia is our ally! If he came we could get those damn Nazis,” Poland sobbed instead.
England shushed him. Poland fell asleep in his arms, sobbing and angry.
Poland was on the base the next day. His squadron would be going out for a raid later that evening. They were being debriefed in twenty minutes. Two men passed as Poland puttered about his plane.
He caught their conversation, “-got the go ahead to send in low-level supply drops to Warsaw.”
Poland stopped moving, his breath caught in his throat. Supply drops to… Warsaw? He dropped his hands on the smooth metal of his plane. His heart was pounding in his chest.
“Did Churchill get the Soviet’s clearance for us to go into their air space?”
The blonde nation dry swallowed, fucking politics, always a nightmare. His ears perked as a deep laugh rang out, “No, but we’re going in anyway.”
The two men wandered away laughing and talking about the raids that were scheduled. Poland smirked. He totally loved England.