BIRTH: The Last Six Years

Chuck Tank

Outside, the streets were wet, and depression was visible on the faces of many of locals dressed in tattered clothing. The buildings looked as if they would tumble down any second now. I had just been sent to live with my mother, after a fight broke out between my sister Patrushya and me. I think there is no doubt, I can never return to that house again. We have lived here our whole life. I don't profess to know the future of this war, and I shan't go out of my way to affirm this, but we will die if the Germans seize us. I must protect my mother. We have a few people staying at the house here. There are a few families close by; they have lived in poverty like us, all their lives. Today, I brought little Joey some bread; the poor kid had not eaten in a day, and had mud all over his brown trousers. I asked him about his mother, and he told me, "She is sick, but she has been cleaning sheets for half of the morning." So I went to see her to help her with the laundry, and had little Joey assist me in gathering the dirtiest from the barrels in the yard. Rats! Those filthy little creatures were scattering, running about in a frenzy, looking for crumbs. Joey's mother clung to a load of dry towels and asked me what I thought of the war, what I thought would happen to us. I said I didn't know. Then I looked at Joey, and touched him on the chin and made him smile. I picked up a dirty, old soft toy and turned to him saying, "Look what I got," and then I pulled it from behind my back, "Here, it's your favorite stuffed animal." Joey sat down in the mud and started beating the ground with his hands. He asked for his mother, who came over and comforted the boy. "How could you?", she said to me, "Look what you've done." Then she picked Joey up and took him away. I left the yard, the laundry, and the rats behind me. I walked through an alley, where many men were hanging around, chattering, mostly drunk murmurers who were no longer thinking straight. It was a Saturday, I think, when I went back to see if Joey was alright. He was in bed, sick. It was around this time that I offered my apologies to the mother. She refused them, however, and told me never to return, blaming me for the young boy's sickness. People would stop and ask me who I was, as I walked down the dark alleys on that cold autumn night.
     A massive fire broke out in the night. A great many people died, including the family of a interesting person I got to know over the past few months. Some got badly injured, while others got trapped inside. Sirens woke us up around 3 o'clock in the morning. "What do you think it is Chuck?" "I don't know," I said, "Come on, I'm going go check." She came with me, and we saw that a hospice was burning down. The tanks had forced their way through the gates and were aiming their canons at our beloved village. The Germans were now vehemently trying to get in and close off the exits. A blonde-haired man could be seen driving forward in a tank, making gestures to round up anyone they could. Then, to our horror, the girl and I saw Joey and his mother being dragged out in the rain. The Germans' uniforms were all soaking wet. I didn't speak German, but my girl did, so she translated for me. The guy with the blonde hair, which must've been in command, had asked Joey's mother if she knew of anyone else in the area. He said they were seizing control of our village, and told her that if she lied she would be shot. I ran out and begged for her and Joey to be kept alive. They quickly grabbed my waistcoat and soon me, Beatrice, Joey, and his mother were taken away.
     I was thrown in a cold concrete cell, where I stayed long enough for my family to presume I was dead. But, for some reason, the Germans were good to me. They fed me and groomed me. I soon learned German, and they trained me as a SS soldier. I didn't know what this meant back then. However, I didn't want to die, so I obeyed to all their orders. Eventually, I even got married. I completely forgot about my past, the memories I had with little Joey and his mother. Beatrice had vanished, I never saw her again. She did say one thing before we all got separated though, she mentioned a farm, a Loundalds Farmhouse. I hope the mother and that boy made it through okay. I always loved them. I wanted the best for everyone during those war days in Poland.