Along the Tracks, chapter 1
I saw the Angel of Death, I spoke with the Angel of Death... And I survived. It happened in 1942, in the Ghetto of Rohatyn, in Poland. For Jews in the Ghetto, the SS men with their black uniforms, with their black skulls, were the Angels of Death. Once they saw you, you were finished, you were gone...
Billie Joe woke with a start. The cold northern polish air was seeping through various openings in the nearby window. It sent a shiver down his spine and he pulled the blankets tighter around him and his wife Adi. He could hear shouts outside and the low rhythmic sound of machine gun fire in the distance.
"Can you hear them," Elie cried from his bed in the corner. "I told you, the Russians they're almost hear. Liberation is around the corner my friends by next week we will all be free men and this war will be over!"
"Shut your mouth Elie," groaned Adi from beside Billie as she slowly sat up. " Talk like that will have us all hung."
Various voices filled the room from all corners as Elie's prophecy of freedom roused many from their sleep.
"Da... Dad," whispered Joey from beside the bed. "What's going on?"
"Go back to sleep Joey, it's nothing," Billie whispered back into the darkness.
Moments later the room was once again filled with silence. He sat in the darkness holding tightly onto Adi's frail hand underneath the thin covers. He could feel tears well up in his eyes and was glad the room was so dark so that no one could see him in this moment of weakness. Slowly Billie lay down and wrapped his arms tightly around his wife. Little did he know this was the last night he would sleep in this room or in this ghetto. For that matter it was the last night his family would be together under the same roof ever again.
... Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, which has turned my life into one long night, seven times cursed and seven times sealed. Never shall I forget that smoke. Never shall I forget the little faces of the children, whose bodies I saw turned into wreaths of smoke beneath a silent blue sky.
Never shall I forget those flames which consumed my faith forever.
Never shall I forget that nocturnal silence which deprived me, for all eternity, of the desire to live. Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to dust. Never shall I forget these things, even if I am condemned to live as long as God Himself. Never.
Billie Joe woke with a start. The cold northern polish air was seeping through various openings in the nearby window. It sent a shiver down his spine and he pulled the blankets tighter around him and his wife Adi. He could hear shouts outside and the low rhythmic sound of machine gun fire in the distance.
"Can you hear them," Elie cried from his bed in the corner. "I told you, the Russians they're almost hear. Liberation is around the corner my friends by next week we will all be free men and this war will be over!"
"Shut your mouth Elie," groaned Adi from beside Billie as she slowly sat up. " Talk like that will have us all hung."
Various voices filled the room from all corners as Elie's prophecy of freedom roused many from their sleep.
"Da... Dad," whispered Joey from beside the bed. "What's going on?"
"Go back to sleep Joey, it's nothing," Billie whispered back into the darkness.
Moments later the room was once again filled with silence. He sat in the darkness holding tightly onto Adi's frail hand underneath the thin covers. He could feel tears well up in his eyes and was glad the room was so dark so that no one could see him in this moment of weakness. Slowly Billie lay down and wrapped his arms tightly around his wife. Little did he know this was the last night he would sleep in this room or in this ghetto. For that matter it was the last night his family would be together under the same roof ever again.
... Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, which has turned my life into one long night, seven times cursed and seven times sealed. Never shall I forget that smoke. Never shall I forget the little faces of the children, whose bodies I saw turned into wreaths of smoke beneath a silent blue sky.
Never shall I forget those flames which consumed my faith forever.
Never shall I forget that nocturnal silence which deprived me, for all eternity, of the desire to live. Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to dust. Never shall I forget these things, even if I am condemned to live as long as God Himself. Never.
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