Sunday, December 7th, 1941

Dear Alexander,

I hope this gets past the censors. The Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. America has declared war on the Axis. I'm sure you already know. Everyone here is doing fine.

Love, Annelise

P.S. Remember that time we ice skated to Heart and Soul? I thought of that today. I miss you very much.

.

Alexander did know about the attack on Pearl Harbor. Just earlier that day, Adolph Hitler had declared war on the United States. He didn't know if he should be angry at the Japanese or terrified that one of the world's strongest militaries would now shoot him on sight.

He had felt chills all across his body when Henri told him. All the soldiers he had seen that day looked vaguely terrified.

"The stupid Japanese," Henri had growled, holding his head. "We were keeping the Americans neutral for a reason! They're dangerous!"

Alexander had nodded. "All of them, just young men looking to be war heroes. They don't know anything about war!"

Neither do we, he had thought.

A part of him was happy that Annelise would have a glimmer of hope now. The Allies would try to liberate her country. But, as he had realized before, they would hate him. He hated imagining himself begging on his knees, at the mercy of an Allied solder. His family would probably refuse to admit he existed if he died like that. If they were even still alive.

Reading the P.S., he had remembered the day they had skated. It had been like a romantic scene in a book, with the music playing. Annelise had been so pretty in her long blue coat, with its silver buttons, her hair in two braids. And her smile.

He was patrolling the streets of Amsterdam now, not ice skating. It was mid-morning, and not many people were out. It was lonely, walking the streets in silence, hearing only his shiny boots on the stone. Dark clouds were gathering in the sky, and he could expect snow that evening.

He reached the street of Herenstraat. He had just been given a small area to patrol. All was quiet as it had been, until he began to hear shouts up ahead.

He reached the sight of two German soldiers trying to break up a fight between three men. "Stop!" shouted one of the soldiers in English. "Break it up!"

Out of the mess, they dragged a man with dark brown hair and light brown eyes. He looked terrified. The other two men bolted while one of the soldiers grabbed the man's collar, shoving him against the wall.

"Let him go!" The words were out before Alexander could stop himself. "What did this man do?" He spoke in German now.

"He started that fight," said one of the soldiers. "He caused trouble. Besides, who do you think you are to order us around?"

"Lieutenant Alexander Bernik," Alexander said calmly, enjoying the looks on their faces as they realized he was their superior. They apologized and hastily saluted, then hurried away.

Alexander walked over to the man with brown hair, who was cowering in a corner, by a pile of rubble. When the man saw Alexander approach, he tried to back against the debris.

Alexander reached out his hand. The man, who was white as a sheet, took it. Alexander helped him stand while Henri watched.

"Th... thank you," stuttered the man in Dutch. He didn't move, frozen to his spot.

Alexander looked him over. He was average height, thin but not muscular, wearing a faded blue shirt underneath a tan jacket, and a white scarf. He had large eyes, their brown color almost golden in the sparse rays of sun.

"What's your name," asked Alexander.

"Jan," he replied shakily. "Jan Smit, sir."

Alexander nodded. "I'm Lieutenant Bernik." It felt odd to introduce himself formally. "What really happened here?"

Jan took a moment before he spoke. "Well, I was walking down this road, and I had stopped for a moment to retie my shoelace, and those men jumped me. I've never seen them in my life! I don't want to cause trouble! Please don't arrest me!"

Alexander realized how intimidating he must look. He took a step back, and Jan relaxed a bit, but still stood frozen. "I'm not going to arrest you," Alexander said. "Thank you for telling me what happened."

Alexander turned and walked back to Henri. He could hear Jan breath a sigh of relief after he turned. He was positive Jan hadn't wanted him to hear that, so he acted like he hadn't.

"You're just going to let him go," exclaimed Henri. "He could've been lying!"

"He wasn't. Besides, did you see how scared he was? He would've told me more than I asked for anyway."

"Everyone's scared of us," Henri muttered. "You just have to get used to it, Alexander."

When Alexander turned back, Jan was gone. He looked around, but there was no sign of him. That was a bit odd.

It was getting close to lunchtime. Alexander and Henri walked into a café where all the German soldiers usually ate. They were loud and laughed. The other people in the café were quiet and avoided looking at them.

As soon as Alexander and Henri walked in, they saw Peter, Georg, and Victor sitting at a table. These three were their friends, and they sat down next to them.

"How's your day been," Georg asked Alexander, who shrugged.

"Uneventful," he replied, a voice in his mind telling him not to tell him about Jan.

"You heard about the declaration," asked Victor, trailing off. "We're at war with America."

They all nodded, falling silent. They were all terrified. They had heard about American pilots, and how well they fought. That was why they were friends. They were pilots.

Alexander loved flying. It was exciting and amazing, to see the world from above. But his father had wanted him to be a sniper, because Alexander had a natural aptitude for that. But, the same was true for flying. He was equally skilled at the two things. He remembered arguing with his father about the topic. His father didn't want him to go near an aircraft. Eventually, Alexander had won the argument, and became a pilot.

The silence was broken by Peter shouting, "We'll take them down!" They all cheered. Alexander's eyes lit up with fire, but his cheer faded when he realized that, no matter if he fought on the ground or in the air, he would be killing the people who were Annelise's last hope for freedom.

"Alex? Are you okay," asked Henri. Alexander nodded, smiling again.

"I'm fine," he lied. "I'll fight every American pilot if I have to!"

Henri accepted the answer. The rest of them talked for the rest of lunch, Alexander mostly listening. He looked around at the café. There were other tables of soldiers. There were also civilians. Innocents who didn't ask to be attacked...

No, Alexander thought. This is war. Innocent people get caught up in wars all the time. There isn't anything I can do about it.

He tuned back into the conversation to hear Henri ask, "Do you think the Americans are as good as they say?"

"Nein," answered Georg in a bored tone. "I think we'll be fine."

Alexander nodded. Was Georg saying that because he believed it, or to reassure himself?

As he left the café he found himself holding his head high and laughing with the others, in an attempt to hide his fear and pain as well.