It was a hot, sunny day in the plains of Poland, as it was always. Work on the field and my brother's work in the factories was hard. Little did I know, that this was the day that drew me from farm and factory work, to something much, much worse. It was late evening, and I was going to bed when I received a letter. On the top it said: Zawiadomienie Poboru (conscription notice). Conscription? Since when did the Polish military have three-year conscription? I thought to myself. It was not until the next day's news had arrived that I had realized. The headline: MOLOTOV-RIBBENTROB PACT! Nazis prepare attack from west, and Soviet Union prepare attack from east! My stomach caved in on it's self. What? How? WHY? I once again thought to myself in disbelief. I looked down at my conscription notice. I was almost late. I bolted outside and hopped in my Dad's car. I slammed the gas pedal and probably broke the speed limit and then some. Off I was, in the direction of the recruitment center. My glory days were behind me. Now came the war. War is Hell, they say. But I don't think they truly know what war or any type of combat can really do to a simple, 17 year old boy living a simple life in the plains.
