The sun rays are shinning down on the streets of Rotterdam, to be precise piercing through the debris, to strike the blood doused ground. Not more than 23 minutes ago, the Dutch troops had everything under control and were defending their port from the German forces. Buildings were reduced to ashes and the bombings had set the sky ablaze. Human remains were left scattered, thousands were dead in a war they weren't fighting. Amidst the commotion, a lad of 19 years, with cobalt teal colors on his chest was crashed against a collapsed bookstore.The badges on his uniform were slightly visible as the blood gushing out of his arm was drenching him, he could breathe for only a few more minutes. Those around him were all dead, he knew the air in his lungs wouldn't be enough to take him miles in search for help. He was bound to breathe his last, and what broke him more was that he had orders to be delivered to the navy regiments to hold their fire till further directives. The river of Meuse was now in red, he recalled his captain's unwavering words,
"Till you catch a glimpse of your nation's flag high up in the blue yonder, don't let your guard down."
those words made him want to fight till the last beat. He had no enemy around, no army to fight, no strength to pick himself up, yet he wanted to fight. He was helpless, clutching on to a piece of crippled paper, with most certainty held his last command. No longer could he hear the air raids, or the emergency sirens. He wanted to ask forgiveness, he wanted to apologise to his mum for not being able to return home to take her out to the annual fair, in the nearby town after the war. As a young child, running in his grandpa's barley fields, searching for the perfect apples to take home for the supper's apple pie and listening to the old tales of Lange Wapper were what made him wonder if he could too cross towns in a leap. He wanted to become a baker and start an outlet to make his mum's stroopwafel recipe famous.
Appointing time:14:30, 8th May 1939, Amsterdam
were boldly written in the letter, he received just a month after his 18th birthday. He was called to defend his country in the world war 2. He was given a Dutch mannilicher, a service riffle to take down anyone who went against the colors he wore. Horror struck he was, the day he killed a man who tried to save his nation. Though Netherlands was neutral in the war, it didn't stop the Germans from invading, the war became intense and even barracks were attacked. Thousands of civilians dead for the aspirations of a few, who were oceans away from the mayhem.
*the last bomb was dropped to destroy the Dutch naval base*
The loud thudding of the ground made him shudder and he let out a faint cry. He could feel his body getting stiff and numb, he coughed to let the oozing blood out of his throat. He leaned his head back, his eyesight was fading and a tear rolled down his cheek. His eye caught from afar a group of soldiers running towards the ruins, the heart of the city was in. Slowly a few started running in his way. He clutched the paper tightly in his fist, though it was of no avail, he knew he would discharge the duty he was given. He slowly closed his eyes. A week later, his mum got a letter about her dead son, Ruben who died on 14th May 1940, in an air raid by the Germans on Rotterdam.
A memorial for those who lost their lives in Rotterdam bombings is found even today in Netherlands. Millions of teens who lost their lives in both the world wars might have had dreams of their own.
Confined to a hospital bed with broken bones, ghastly bruises on my head and blood on a drip. A lady, maybe in her 20's slowly walked up to me, she had a scrutinizing look and was deep in work. I wanted to ask her about how I got here and more, but I had no strength in me to utter a word. Flashes of the night before strike me hard, it was date night with my love, we had plans. The crimson red sky gave way to the starry night, and the gentle breeze was playing with her locks. We were on our way to the venue, and I was tensed, held it back for long, I had to go down on my knee. Stomped the accelerator to coincide it with my heartbeat, She was free, free from everything that held her back. I lost control of the wheel and there was a loud thud, my world spun around and embraced silence. I was lost, lost and drenched in my own blood, in a wreaked car, she was no longer by my side. Tense voices bring me back to the reality, I slowly start to pass out into deep slumber. Days later, my eyes reluctantly open up to the truth, heard them say "she might have lived, if she was inside." My mind starts to question me, was it my fault? she would have lived though, wouldn't she? If only, had I said the four words I needed to, "Put on your seatbelt", no.. it's all on me! Pang of guilt engulfed me, I was surrounded, by my demons mocking my lifeless existence. In pain, I cried, cursed and wished but all in vain, trapped in my own body, I had no reason to try. Months passed by, I felt suffocated and clustered, death is the only beautiful thing left that I desire. I want it bad, I want it fast but life isn't done with me, It imprisoned me in my own unavailing form. I'm nothing more than a breathing corpse, waiting for life to leave me from it's clutches.
"Love is the biggest adventure itself and it requires commitment "
"Yeah, I remember how it goes, I made her breakfast when she was lonely but I could watch her moving on. So in the afternoon I made her lunch because she didn't have her breakfast but I could see her crying as I stepped out of her room. And at night, she was in kitchen making dinner because I didn't have my lunch nor breakfast.
As we finished I pulled her closer, tucking in a wayward strand of curly brown hair back in her messy bun, 'I love you' she said. And I couldn't say anything because she was in love with two people few hours ago but she chose me that night because I didn't give up on her"
"I tell you Muffin Man, don't give up your woman especially when she tell you I've a place in your heart but.......
She's just figuring out, who is worthy for her love. Don't prove her wrong, she might desperately want you to stay in the game and fight for her heart"