Evil Bethlhem
#4 of Non Furry
The cold knife that encrusted my body in an icy reality that forever changed me..
As I look at the small set of numbers embedded on my arm I remember the day that my life had changed. I remember the yell of the soldiers and the clicking of triggers; the howls of women as they were ripped away from their husbands. The chains, oh those chains, the cold knife that encrusted my body in an icy reality that forever changed me. Looking back now it seemed a very long time ago.
It was the time of the Passover in early 1940 when the soldiers came. Hundreds upon hundreds of men dressed up like toy soldiers skulked around our neighbourhood district hunting us all down. Who are we you may ask? Why we are the Jews, the scourge of the Third Reich, the dirt at the bottom of the shoe of Fascist Germany the most hated of all men. Herr Hitler wanted us all dead, he did not see us as humans only as animals made to be slaughtered. The hoards of screaming women and children massed around, like at the synagogue on the Sabbath, as the soldiers rounded us up and loaded us onto trucks. The ride towards the work camp was the easiest part. The bumpy lanes and coarse roads littered throughout the journey towards a new definition of hell.
We arrived at the work camp where the stench of death plagued my senses. A nightmare arose, a nightmare worse than death. A nightmare controlled by the evilest man of all Bethlehems, whose wicked soul had slouched towards to be born there. Faceless people plagued my sight as a troop of men and women were led to the horrors that waited below the smoking chimney. Why is there so much hatred, so much suffering? Is there not a hopeful strand of memory worthy of humanity in this dark hour? The muddy entanglement that waited outside the trucks was horrific.
Bodies seemed to glide across the grounds while in a desperate moaning they all served the same purpose, to work. Eager stomachs possessed us as fat soldiers and overweight generals roamed the grounds. Having to live on a small ration of bread and water; it was difficult to say we were fairly treated. The first night, well that was a thing to remember. It was a day to end all days, and a night to begin the ending of my life. The camp's hard floors and even harder personality seemed to make the cool night even worse. Ragged figures haunted the small cabin. The soldiers formed up a small group of prisoners before lights out, the chimney smoked again that night. Hell had opened its wide, gaping jaws and swallowed up friends and families of many people. All this occurred in the name of Herr Hitler and his "cleansing" of the world.
Looking back on this I remember the chains and the trucks, taking us all away towards our doom. The soldiers and generals treatments never were forgotten. We were barcoded and shipped off like meat and many never got the chance to escape. The distant screams of a life once forgotten now echo on to the end of eternity.