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    Survivor of the Holocaust

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    Registration date : 2009-03-28
    Number of posts : 91
    Location : USA
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    Age : 24
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    Survivor of the Holocaust

    Post by Legolas on March 28th 2009, 15:55

    I wrote this story for an English assignment:

    A time of tyranny, a time of panic. There seemed no end to this wickedness. German soldiers stormed the streets, taking prisoners who yielded, and killing those who resisted. From my hiding place, I saw friends and relatives falling. I kept waiting for them to get up but they wouldn’t, for they were dead. I heard the screams of anguish and pain all around me. People were being shot and beaten and torn away from their loved ones. I could not move for fear that I would soon join those desperate, helpless voices, crying for mercy.
    Soldiers were everywhere, and there was no escape. I saw my sister running, scanning for a safe place to hide and wait for an end. There was none. Just as met my hidden eyes and took a running step, there was a loud bang. Blood trickled down her face. A tear ran from the corner of her eye as she turned and fell upon the street. I wanted to shout for her and run to her side, but I too would end up with the same end. I wanted to cry, but fear of making any noise kept me still and no tears would come.
    I looked up and saw two trucks full of women and children; families that had been torn apart and mixed together. Children were made to watch their parents die, and were forced into the vehicles, shut up inside them like stray dogs, and hauled off to concentration camps.
    Time seemed to slow down. Two teenagers, one carrying her baby sister, ran toward my hiding place. She had been my friend through all the hardest times. She slipped the baby behind the wooden slab and into my arms. Just as her fingers left the precious bundle, her body jolted. Blood gushed from her chest and she fell to the ground. With her last breath, she whispered, “God save my little sister and my best friend…” Her boyfriend, kneeling by her side, was jerked up by the hair and beaten. They carried him off into another waiting vehicle.
    I don’t know how much time passed, but I found myself blinded by daylight in my dark hiding place. A soldier took me by the arm and jerked me up, forcing me to walk into the midst of his fellow torturers. He tried to take the baby, but I withdrew. He struck me so hard that my lip bled and then forced her from my arms.
    “Please! Please don’t hurt her!” I begged, “She’s only a baby! She has nothing to do with this! Please! Spare her!” My cries went unheard. They had no compassion. I kept screaming for the child’s sake as they forced me into the truck and ordered me to be quiet. He handed the baby to another soldier. I, with all the other prisoners, kept praying that we would somehow escape this treachery.
    We are victims because of what we believe, because we don’t agree with Hitler’s propaganda—because we think freely! I thought. We never directly opposed them; we merely minded our own business and lived our daily lives. That wasn’t good enough. No, he wanted absolute control. He may have had control over my body, but never over my mind. My faith was strong and I trusted the Lord to take care of me.
    We rode for a while and then stopped. The atmosphere was quieter, yet very dreadful. I knew exactly where I was. I was at a concentration camp. The soldiers opened up the back of the truck and had all of us walk in single file, down a dusty, gray path. Dusty and gray—that is how the whole camp looked, such a gloomy and dreadful place. I walked down the path, looking back and forth, meeting the eyes of the other prisoners. They looked miserable. They were half-starved, and they had dirt smudged on their faces, calluses on their hands. They were made to work like dogs and it seemed they were given little rest. No mercy was in the stone hearts of the enemy. Their eyes were fierce and cold, filled with so much hatred. Whatever they hated, they made a point to eliminate.
    We stopped walking. The gate was open, and people began filing in. This was to be the end of my freedom. Panic filled me once again. In a last-ditch effort I began running, the guards shot at me, but it was as though God had put a shield around me. The bullets kept missing their mark.
    I reached the forest, and kept running, until at last I found refuge. I could hear the soldiers running past me. I had left no trail, but they were relentless. They would bring dogs. I had to get away. For hours I walked, until I came across an unlocked vehicle. I instinctively got in and hid. I heard footsteps approaching. I prayed that it was not another soldier on a search. My prayers were answered, for it was the owner of the vehicle, a common citizen. He started the car and we began riding down a paved highway—I peeked from my hiding place in the back seat and saw something I never dreamed I’d come near. It was the border of Germany, crossing into Denmark. At last I would be free!
    I was not out of danger yet—soldiers were patrolling the borders, making sure there were no refugees hiding in the vehicles. I was sure I was done for. But, once again, the Lord was on my side. The soldiers were too busy talking to notice much and when the tourist came through, they merely looked at his identification and let him pass. I felt such relief that I let out a sigh. When he stopped driving, I got ready to spring from the vehicle. He left to go into a store and as soon as he stood on the doorstep of the building, I got out and ran…
    Never again would I see my friends and family. Never again would I willingly set foot in that detestable country called Germany. I would never watch my best friend’s sister grow up; I could never see her marry the man she loved, I would never marry the man I left behind. Now I am free, but a part of me still feels trapped—trapped in the past. I feel so alone sometimes when I remember the Holocaust.

      Current date/time is June 20th 2018, 17:02