His Struggle

The motorcade slowly made its way across town. Not because the occupants of the cars were not in a hurry, they were. Not because of any trepidation about the destination, for, a nation was waiting to change hands. The motorcade crept at a snail's pace, because the adoring fans of an occupant packed streets

He gave no outward sign that he even noticed them. He was lost in his own thoughts. Still they waved as his limousine passed. Giving cheers of support, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of their new savior. The man that had sworn to restore hope where hope was gone.

The man seemed to be taking in the months and years leading up to that point. His childhood of hardships he had to overcome. His restless young adulthood until he found his calling. The call to power.

Oh, the rise to power.

He remembered the speeches given at first to small crowds, mostly those who were curious of this outsider. His words won them over. His ability to captivate and enthrall the masses. At every speech, he gave them something they had lacked, an audacity of hope. Moreover, because he shared his vision, his crowds grew. Before long, the regular halls were no longer large enough to seat those who wished to hear him. No, only the larger stadiums could hold his fans.

The hope for a return to the better years, before the war, a return to more prosperous times. He spoke of a stronger nation, a nation that would take its rightful place amongst the family of nations. He offered more than hope; he offered a future of pride, of industriousness. He offered the downtrodden a way to look beyond the violence and strife of the past few years. He gave them his dream.

Almost to a man, they accepted the words of this new messiah. He spoke to their hearts, to their souls. His followers fed off his energy. The crowds flocked to him. He looked at the streets lined with well-wishers as the motorcade turned and made its way closer to its destination. He passed a bank and chuckled at the occupants. They were a piece of his success. The money-changers. He could feel their eyes on him, even though he could not see them.

The economic ruin of the last few years had played into his hands. Time after time, he pointed out that the hard working masses drowned in a sea of debt, all the while that they profited off their misery. He made sure to point the fingers of despair and misery squarely at them.

Thus, in keeping with his speeches of hope and promise, he swore that those who had profited unfairly in the last few years would get theirs. It would be their turn to pay, and the average citizens chance to prosper. He swore new laws to this.

The people accepted his promise and dismissed the concerns voiced by them as self-preservation. Desperate attacks by those willing to do anything to stop their chance at a larger piece of the pie.

He saw an armed guard in front of a lamppost, as they got closer. Guns, he thought, what a great campaign tool. He remembered the bloodshed that had gripped the streets of the nation as he campaigned. The senseless murders, he called them. He had promised to the victims, and those panic stricken to make the streets safer. He promised stricter gun laws.

The result of his audacity to hope, to dream had brought him to the pinnacle of power. He shuddered in anticipation at the changes he could bring to his nation. As he stared out at the crowds outside his car, he seemed to stare past them. As if, he saw the future that his leadership would bring. A new utopia on earth, a brave new world order.

A peace that would rein a thousand years.

As he climbed up to the stadium, he gave a nod to his assistants. Their hard work had helped assure him that his vision, his dream was now on the path to reality. They smiled back as he passed by; he could feel the pride in their smiles. The adoration in their eyes, the unquestioning faith.

Finally, he reached the podium and looked out on the multitude that stared back. He took a deep breath. He could feel the electricity from the crowd. Their hopes and dreams now fused with his. Now they to, had the audacity of his hope, of his vision.

He held out his hand and made the gesture that had become the trademark of his campaign, of his struggle.

The crowd went wild in cheers.

Then, and only then, did Chancellor Adolf Hitler smile.