The reasons for this secret bunker are quite vague. There are two main reasons that they may need this bunker. The first would be, they may need it for guerilla warfare since we are in a forest. We can rule that out since this is a few miles from the frontlines. That means they have something to hide, and it's something big.

At this point, I can at least confirm that I'm serving in the US Military during WW2 and that this isn't some prank. If I go in there, it could mean the death of me. However, if I don't go in there, I will have to turn back with the risk of getting caught, and that just isn't going to work. The uniform I have on will only fool people who don't perform a headcount. So, I'll have to move fast if I want to figure out what is down there.

Carefully reaching down, I brush off the rest of the sticks and leaves covering it. Trying to pull up the trapdoor briefly, I immediately notice that it isn't locked yet. They probably only bolt it from the inside when they get back. Hmm, it's probably safe to enter then since there shouldn't be anyone opening it for them. The only reason a bunker-like they wouldn't bolt it closed on their way out is that there aren't enough people to have someone always watching the trapdoor.

Taking the obvious safety precautions, I knock on the top of it and take a position behind the hinge and wait.

...

I suppose nobody is at home.

It's time to go in. Getting back in front of the trapdoor, I slowly open it fully. Slightly popping my head in, I check carefully to confirm my theory that there isn't anyone hiding inside.

Good. Slowly, I pull out my handgun with my right hand and crawl down the ladder. Going step by step, I quickly reach the bottom and jump the few feet gap to the ground.

Thud.

Observing my surroundings, I'm currently in a rectangular room with large and thin pipes all around me. Their function is probably to supply safe oxygen, water, and electricity. Going outside of the room, I come across two splitting hallways, and one is much larger and looks like it comes from the center while the other goes off to the side.

It's too late to turn back now. Keeping my head lowered, I start heading down what looks like the main hallway. Shortly after, I come across an 8 foot or so futuristic-looking door with a neon blue light that runs through these weird artificial cracks that spread across into the door frame. I've never come across anything like this in all my years back as a mercenary.

I can see that the cracks have what looks like pure energy running through them have some odd reinforced glass over them as a protective sealing. Indeed, I am by no means a genius. However, you don't have to be a genius to see that whatever this may be, is far ahead of whatever technology we have at this time. I need to find out whatever is behind this dense stream of energy powering this door and whatever room behind it.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

The door requires a key card along with a retinal scan on a panel to the right of the door that verifies for me whatever could be behind this door is dangerous and is valued highly by these nazis.

It's obvious what I'm going to have to do. Traversing back where I came from, I quietly head down the left hall to not alert whoever is inside.

Quickly I reach the edge of the hallway, in which there is a regular steel closed door. It probably isn't locked, but it's presumably where the soldiers sleep or the underground tunnels into the bunker end. Listening closely, I can hear a few people talking.

"You need to get back to work! What happens if Maxon or Zola finds out you are slacking? We could both be killed just for that."

"Bertram... why do you care whether or not I lay around? It's none of your business what I do. It's not like they ever leave that lab of theirs anyway. Who's going to find out? Are you going to tell them, Haha?"

Rigorously angered, the man slams his fist on what I presume to be a metal table, "Bastard! You will drag me down with you! Don't you remember what they did to Ferdi, just because he didn't log his patrol rounds for a single night? They butchered him! It's just us two and that elitist nazi squad. Who do you think they will value more? You or the research that is going to get the funding for an entire base?"

"Alright! Relax man. You're right. I'll start taking this more seriously. It's just so boring around here. We don't even have a radio. I'll go get back to guard duty."

What he said signals the end of their argument. Propping myself in the corner of the door, I anticipate quietly behind the door.

...

Creeaakk.

Pushing the door open, the man Bertram was arguing with yells back, "Alright, see? I'm going right now".

Stifling my breath even further, I pull out my trench knife with my free left hand while readying my pistol with the right. The moment the man walks out of the doorway, I swing my trench knife right at his head.

Reacting near instantaneously, he blocks it with his forearm and steps back into the room.

Shocked, the man screams out, "Fuck! Help me, Bertram!".

Bertram immediately tries to pull out a Gewehr 43, to which I respond by swiftly firing two rapid shots with the pistol in my right hand.

BANG! BANG!

Now left with four bullets left, I watch them both crumple to the floor with two clean holes down the center of both foreheads. Heading over to the body of whom I presume is Bertram, I check his uniform for his ID card and pocket it. Following that, I ready my trench knife and hack furiously over and over at his neck.

Splitch, Shplort, Shluck.

Once I have his head chopped off, I carry it with me back to the futuristic door with blue energy. Placing his ID on the scanner along with his face, it starts scanning. The two bars repeatedly go back and forth, up and down.

Shroooom. Shroooom. Shrooom.

Soon, the door starts talking, "Identification verified, you may proceed." The door starts to open from the top, left, and right as they fade slowly into the cracks in the doorframe. Seeing this start, I drop the head and quickly pocket the ID again, and draw my gun.