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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Teens
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: War & Peace
- Published: 07/27/2010
Journal Entry - 1 January 1942
Born 1970, F, from Canoga Park, CA, United States(This story is written as a Journal entry. It is comprised of 26 sentences, consequtively following the letters of the alphabet. It is a fictional, first person account of what it might have been like to experience life in Holland during the occupation of the 3rd Reich.)
Journal Entry - 1 January 1942
A Country under Occupation is a sad, depressing and dismal state of affairs at best, but at the turn of a new year, there is a poignant sense of despondency mixed with a faint glimmer of hope that someone somewhere will come and save us from this ever present darkness that has taken over our beloved land.
Before they came there were promises of protection, aid, and a swift defeat of the German army – in fact, many felt the Germans were “no real threat to Holland” – my how wrong they were!
Certainly it would seem to me - and I, dear diary, am no military strategist - that Hitler’s swift occupation of much of the continent of Europe would certainly suggest the possibility of a real threat.
Days, weeks, months, and years have gone by since the day they arrived and it seems the allied forces are no closer to defeating them than the first day.
Everyone I know is living in a constant state of fear. Food is scarce now and it seems that all of the supplies that come are kept to feed the German soldiers.
Forgive me for saying this, but it makes me sick to think that there are people starving – children starving – and all that food is being wasted on men who are no better than animals.
God knows it would be better to use the food to feed the animals, and then at least we would have some livestock that was healthy enough to breed.
Heavens, listen to me go on.
If anyone ever found these pages I am afraid it would be off to the Commandant for me, my dear diary.
Just when you think you have things figured out, they throw something new at you – curfews change at the drop of a hat; one day you are allowed books, the next you are not; sometimes music is ok, the next a certain composer is on the banned list – especially if he or she is Jewish or of Jewish descent.
Keen attention must been paid to these rules, because the consequences of breaking them are disproportionate to the crime, for one, and horrific, for lack of a more descriptive word.
Let me give you an example that has broken my heart.
My nephew plays the piano, fairly reasonably.
Now, he was giving a small concert for a group of friends – nothing big or fancy, just a small gathering of people.
On a whim, he started to play the anthem of our beloved Country.
People were moved beyond words!
Quiet reverence; tears of pride and a renewing of human spirit flowed through the room as his fingers flowed across the keys.
Right as the piece hit the crescendo (I am not musical but I think that is what Nephew had said one time), in burst a whole regiment of soldiers –guns primed, shouting “Raus! Raus!” (I swear that is one of the only words they know – well that and “Juden Raus” or “Verbotten”).
Shots ricocheted around the wooden rafters as the soldiers barreled their way through the crowd.
Those who resisted were beaten, dragged to the street, or shot.
Unbending and unyielding to cries for mercy or pity, the Germans are cold automatons – obeying mindless orders and killing at a whim.
Vast amounts of lives have been lost since they came here; mostly our good friends who happen to be Jewish, those who help them in the underground, those who are different in any way, or do not wish to conform to the cruelty being forced upon us – for that you risk your life. Wilhelm, my nephew, is in Germany now – apparently he is in one of those labor camps.
We have not had word officially but have heard through the underground network that he was taken there on one of the transports that left a week ago – Christmas Day – can you imagine they even transport prisoners on Christmas!
“Xenophobia” – that is what I have decided I have – it is racial intolerance – I do not think that describes me or my feelings towards the Germans actually, although it is something that the Nazis have managed to take to a whole new level and meaning of the word.
Yet I fear for myself, that in all of my resistance, and in all of my struggle to understand this extremely dark side of human nature we are exposed to on a daily basis, that part of this darkness is reflected in my own heart and resonates through my being to the extent that I comply to their demands and live within their rules.
Zeig Heil – that is their cry – I wonder if they know who it is they are praising?
Journal Entry - 1 January 1942(Liz Linn)
(This story is written as a Journal entry. It is comprised of 26 sentences, consequtively following the letters of the alphabet. It is a fictional, first person account of what it might have been like to experience life in Holland during the occupation of the 3rd Reich.)
Journal Entry - 1 January 1942
A Country under Occupation is a sad, depressing and dismal state of affairs at best, but at the turn of a new year, there is a poignant sense of despondency mixed with a faint glimmer of hope that someone somewhere will come and save us from this ever present darkness that has taken over our beloved land.
Before they came there were promises of protection, aid, and a swift defeat of the German army – in fact, many felt the Germans were “no real threat to Holland” – my how wrong they were!
Certainly it would seem to me - and I, dear diary, am no military strategist - that Hitler’s swift occupation of much of the continent of Europe would certainly suggest the possibility of a real threat.
Days, weeks, months, and years have gone by since the day they arrived and it seems the allied forces are no closer to defeating them than the first day.
Everyone I know is living in a constant state of fear. Food is scarce now and it seems that all of the supplies that come are kept to feed the German soldiers.
Forgive me for saying this, but it makes me sick to think that there are people starving – children starving – and all that food is being wasted on men who are no better than animals.
God knows it would be better to use the food to feed the animals, and then at least we would have some livestock that was healthy enough to breed.
Heavens, listen to me go on.
If anyone ever found these pages I am afraid it would be off to the Commandant for me, my dear diary.
Just when you think you have things figured out, they throw something new at you – curfews change at the drop of a hat; one day you are allowed books, the next you are not; sometimes music is ok, the next a certain composer is on the banned list – especially if he or she is Jewish or of Jewish descent.
Keen attention must been paid to these rules, because the consequences of breaking them are disproportionate to the crime, for one, and horrific, for lack of a more descriptive word.
Let me give you an example that has broken my heart.
My nephew plays the piano, fairly reasonably.
Now, he was giving a small concert for a group of friends – nothing big or fancy, just a small gathering of people.
On a whim, he started to play the anthem of our beloved Country.
People were moved beyond words!
Quiet reverence; tears of pride and a renewing of human spirit flowed through the room as his fingers flowed across the keys.
Right as the piece hit the crescendo (I am not musical but I think that is what Nephew had said one time), in burst a whole regiment of soldiers –guns primed, shouting “Raus! Raus!” (I swear that is one of the only words they know – well that and “Juden Raus” or “Verbotten”).
Shots ricocheted around the wooden rafters as the soldiers barreled their way through the crowd.
Those who resisted were beaten, dragged to the street, or shot.
Unbending and unyielding to cries for mercy or pity, the Germans are cold automatons – obeying mindless orders and killing at a whim.
Vast amounts of lives have been lost since they came here; mostly our good friends who happen to be Jewish, those who help them in the underground, those who are different in any way, or do not wish to conform to the cruelty being forced upon us – for that you risk your life. Wilhelm, my nephew, is in Germany now – apparently he is in one of those labor camps.
We have not had word officially but have heard through the underground network that he was taken there on one of the transports that left a week ago – Christmas Day – can you imagine they even transport prisoners on Christmas!
“Xenophobia” – that is what I have decided I have – it is racial intolerance – I do not think that describes me or my feelings towards the Germans actually, although it is something that the Nazis have managed to take to a whole new level and meaning of the word.
Yet I fear for myself, that in all of my resistance, and in all of my struggle to understand this extremely dark side of human nature we are exposed to on a daily basis, that part of this darkness is reflected in my own heart and resonates through my being to the extent that I comply to their demands and live within their rules.
Zeig Heil – that is their cry – I wonder if they know who it is they are praising?
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