I knew I wasn't the only one that had questions about the war and the camps. I knew everyone around me had their own questions that they so desperately wanted answered. We thought if we worked hard, we would be safe, but death was random. You could be working as hard as the person next to you and still wind up with a bullet in your brain. There weren't a set of rules we could just follow to secure our safety.
I once saw a woman in the middle of the yard, helping dig a large ditch where they planned to put some of the dead bodies. She was just doing what she was ordered, then a guard walked behind her and shot her square in the back of the head. Her body fell into the deep grave that she helped dig. The guard had used her body to see how deep the grave really was and how much more digging they needed to get done before the ditch was done. She didn't even know anyone was standing behind her. We risked getting shot in the back of the head every time we turned our backs, there wasn't a single moment that you could catch your breath and know you were safe. Sometimes, late at night, some of the female guards came in and shot women they thought were too sick or too weak to work. Sometimes they just shot so they would have room in the barracks for the new group of people. When I heard the shots, I tried to sink into my small space and be invisible. Some of the women screamed and tried to get out of the barracks, but they always locked the doors behind them so no one could get out. I never moved whenever it happened, I knew if they were going to shoot me, I didn't really want to be cornered in the back of the barracks. I stayed low and tried to keep quiet. I knew if they were going to kill me, they would.
The women in the barracks would sometimes talk about safe places. We had heard stories of a guard helping the Jews and saving lives. I think everyone hoped that someone would come to our rescue, but we knew no help was coming. Sometimes I wondered if the only people who were even aware of the camp were the prisoners and guards. Woods surrounded us, and I wasn't the only one who was afraid that no one would ever come and take us away from that place.
One day I was in the sorting section, when all of a sudden, a guard came and took me by the arm, and we started to walk. I had just been at my father's house hours prior. The guard who had me by the arm was the guard who had seen me after I met with John, he looked just as rigid as the other guards.
"It's you," I spoke without thinking, "Where are you taking me?" I asked.
"No time for questions," He said sternly.
"I already worked for the Commandant. He can't possibly want me back so soon?" I said with confusion.
"Just be quiet and follow me," The guard said with exasperation.
"Do I have a choice?" I asked bitterly.
"No," he answered plainly.
I didn't know what he was doing, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know. He started to walk me through the men��s side of Aussichtslos, and we began to walk towards my father's house. I looked up at him, wishing I knew what was happening and hating the fact I was being dragged around by yet another guard. The guard didn't hold my arm as roughly as some of the others had, which caused me to feel very suspicious. I couldn't help but feel uneasy around him. He wasn't like the rest of the guards in the camp. He unlocked the door that led to my father's house, but he seemed to scan the area for other people.
"Why are we here?" I asked, hoping for some information as to what was happening.
"You will understand in a moment," He said ominously.
He pulled me into the backyard of the house and told me to sit and hide behind one of the large bushes that lined the back wall. "Wait here," He said, "Your father isn't home, but sometimes there are guards that walk the grounds, so stay low. I'll be back."
He then so quickly walked out of the door and locked it, that I had no time to be surprised he knew who my father was. I looked around the yard cautiously. I didn't see any guards, but I did my best to stay quiet and hidden like the guard had ordered. I didn't like that I had to trust him with whatever his plan was, but he actually seemed to care about my safety for some reason. I didn't want to trust anyone, and I certainly didn't want to believe a Nazi guard. I sat against the wall for what felt like forever until, all of a sudden, I heard someone begin to unlock the door. I moved away from the door, trying to hide deeper within the bushes. Two guards who I hadn't seen before walked through the door. The two men were smoking and talking with one another casually. They lingered in the doorway and just stood there talking about the war and the women they had at home waiting for them. I wasn't listening very carefully until one of the men said something that caught my attention.
"Did you hear about the raid?" one of the men said.
"Oh, you mean the target practice?" The other man chuckled, "Oh yeah, they are trying to train the new guys that just came in this morning. Apparently, a few of them haven't ever fired a gun."
"I wish they had done target practice when I first got here." The first man smirked.
"Yeah, me too, you are a lousy shot." The two men laughed and talked for a long time, until I heard the sound of gunshots ring through the air. Screams were coming from inside the camp, and I jumped in shock at the sound. The two guards looked at each other, and then, with a grin, they pulled out their guns and ran back into the camp.
It sounded like a battle was happening inside the camp. All I heard were screams and gunshots. A few minutes later, the door to my father's back gate unlocked, and John appeared with the Nazi guard next to him. John knelt down, pulled me into his arms and held me tightly. I was in shock, I couldn't process what was taking place. I looked up at the guard who had brought John. He was clutching his arm, and he seemed to be in some pain.
"What's happening?" I asked, desperately wanting answers.
"The guards are shooting into the camp. They are teaching the new guards how the camp is run. I guess some of them aren't outstanding shots, so they are using the prisoners to make them better." The guard said, seeming to be in a bit of a haze.
"Target practice," I said in realization and horror.
"Unfortunately," The guard said with an expression of guilt that surprised me.
"Are you alright?" I asked John, looking him straight in the eyes.
"Yes, I'm fine. My friend here was less fortunate," he said, turning his attention to the guard. He was holding his arm and wincing, obviously trying to pretend he wasn't hurt.
"Your... friend?" I looked at John with confusion.
"Yes," He answered confidently.
I looked at John as though he had utterly lost his mind, but all of John's focus at that moment was on the Nazi guard. Growing frustration and annoyance was building within me, and I did all I could to not lose what little sanity I had left. "Well... are you okay?" I asked the guard, unsure if I cared or not.
He seemed to sense my annoyance and hesitated to answer me, but then replied, "I'm fine, my arm just got skimmed."
I looked at him with suspicion, and then with a very insincere tone, I said, "I'm sorry."
The guard knew I didn't really feel sorry for him, but he didn't question my fake apology and just nodded with a smile. The tension between the three of us was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. Having the guard looking over us the way he was scared me. I didn't understand what he would want in return for our safety. Whatever it was, I was sure I would rather die than be in debt to a Nazi.
"He's a good man, Beth. You can trust him," John said, almost as though he could read my mind.
I looked at John, and then at the guard, and then back at John, "How do you know?" I whispered.
"Beth, he saved us," John said, placing his hand gently on the side of my cheek.
"Why did you save us?" I asked, looking up at the guard.
The guard looked a bit confused by the question. Then he grimaced in pain and said, "I didn't just help you. I helped as many as I could without being caught or stirring up any suspicion."
I still felt uneasy, but I could see in John's eyes that he trusted this man, and if John trusted him, I would do what I could in that moment to trust him as well.
"Do you have a name?" I asked, trying to sound civil.
"Rolf," He said.
"Beth," I replied.
"I know," Rolf said, surveying the surrounding area.
I looked at him with surprise but assumed, like many of the guards in the camp, he knew who I was.
Rolf seemed to be uncomfortable and said, "I have to go, I'll be back when it's clear. Stay low to the ground." He noted with concern in his voice.
"But you're hurt," John said.
"It's nothing. I'm hardly bleeding, I'll be fine," Rolf said, he then unlocked the door and disappeared into the camp.
My eyes followed him with unwavering suspicion, but once he was out of sight, I refocused on John. "I don't understand, why are they doing this?" I asked, but he knew as much as I did.
"I don't know, but we are safe as long as we stay here," John said, holding me close.
"John, I don't trust him," I said with concern.
"I know you don't, but trust me," He said, and then he kissed me on the forehead.
"I do trust you," I promised.
"Good, I would hope so," John answered with a smile.
"John, I have missed you," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck
"I missed you too," He whispered sweetly in my ear.
Gunshots continued to whiz through the air. They echoed and shook everything around us. The noise was gut-wrenching. We were pinned down but safe. The sound nearly drove me insane, I hated feeling so utterly helpless and at the mercy of a Nazi guard. All John and I could do was hope that Rolf helped as many as he could. Although I didn't know Rolf, I could see in his eyes that he hated Aussichtslos almost as much as I did. I didn't trust him, but I respected him for doing what he could to help. As the sun went down, snow began to fall, and the large spotlights were turned on. After endless hours of listening to the nonstop nightmare, it all went silent. The silence was deafening, but calming all at the same time. John and I didn't move. We weren't sure if it was just the calm before the storm, or the target practice was over.
"We should wait for Rolf to come back, he'll tell us whether or not we are safe to come out," John suggested.
"What if he doesn't come back? What if this was his plan?" I said, trying not to sound frantic.
"He will come back," John said with certainty.
"How do you know?" I asked, wishing I could share John's faith in Rolf.
John stayed silent for a moment and then said, "Because he has to."
John looked worn down and sick. I knew that if Rolf didn't come back, we had no way out. We couldn't run, some guards stood just outside the front of my father's house, and there was no way to sneak by them. Rolf was our only way to get back into Aussichtslos without being caught or shot. It was getting colder, and the sun had vanished, causing the air to bite at our already brittle flesh. We sat there for another three hours, as more and more guards seemed to come and go through the gate. The only comfort the night brought, was a shield of darkness that hid us from the view of the guards.
The once solid soil we sat on became slush with the slow falling snow. Suddenly, John's whole demeanor changed, and I could see the panic begin to set in. He started to breathe hard, his eyes were darting every which way, and I could feel his heart racing faster than I had ever felt before.
"John, we're fine. Rolf will come back and open the door for us," I soothed.
"What if you're right and he doesn't open the door? We'll be left here to get shot by the guards." He said, grabbing at his heart. His eyes were wide and bloodshot.
I placed my hand on his chest to try to calm him down, "John, he will come for us. He will come!" I said louder than I intended. I attempted to get him to stay down and out of sight, but he was too restless and panicked, I had never seen him like that.
"We must keep out of sight," I urged.
I moved and took both of his hands in mine, and I noticed he was sweating. The snowfall was getting harder, and the temperature was dropping rapidly, yet sweat glistened on his brow. I didn't need to feel his forehead; I could tell just by touching him that he had a fever.
"John, you are burning up," I was surprised by how sick he was. I knew when he first arrived that he hadn't come healthy, but I didn't expect him to be so sick so soon. He had been there for less than 4 months. I wrapped him up in my weak arms, trying to give him what little strength I had left. His fevered body also helped to keep my frozen flesh somewhat warm. I was growing frantic quickly, but I did all I could to sound calm and in control.
"I'm fine, Beth," John said, resting his head against me. He took deep breaths and tried to gather himself together as best he could.
I had never seen John so sick, and I knew there was nothing I could do to help him, which made me sick to my stomach. John buried his head in my neck; he felt like he had just stepped out of the sun after a long hard day outside. His forehead shone with sweat, and his face was pale. I knew if he got worse, the guards would shoot him. John started to shake, and I held him as tightly and as close as I could. He looked so tired and broken, I just didn't know what to do.
"I'm so sorry, Beth," John whispered hoarsely.
"For what?" I asked gently.
"I should have been there," He said in a tired voice.
"What are you talking about?" I asked with confusion.
"I should have been at the Siegfried's with you the night you were taken. I should have come looking for you." As John spoke, I saw tears forming in the corners of his eyes
I lifted his face so that he had to look me directly in the face.
"If you had done anything, they would have shot and killed you. There was nothing you could have done to save me. There was no way you could have known my father was planning a raid that night." I implored him to understand.
"I should have done something," John insisted with a shaky voice.
"There was nothing you could have done." I fought off my own tears.
John leaned back against the wall. "I'm tired, Beth," He said weakly.
"We all are," I replied.
John looked at me and smiled, "You have always been so resilient, Beth. I wish I were as strong as you."
"I get my strength from being with you," I said, hoping to manage a smile.
I rested my head on his chest; I could feel his heart beating rapidly.
"You have to be strong with or without me, Beth," John said with a stern voice.
"I don't need to be strong without you. You're here with me, and I refuse to let you go anywhere," I said.
"Promise me you'll stay strong whether I'm around or not," He said with sadness in his voice.
"Stay around, and I won't need to be," I answered, not wanting to talk about losing him.
"Beth, please," He begged.
"I won't promise you anything because I'm afraid you will take that as permission to leave me," I said, my body shaking with cold and fear. I tried not to focus on my nearly frozen body.
John looked tired and weak, too tired, and too weak to argue with me. "Please, Beth. Promise me," John said with an eerie ease.
A tear slid down the side of my cheek, "I promise," I said weakly. I rested my head on his shoulder, and I could hear his shallow breathing.
"Don't worry about me, okay? Please don't worry," He said, taking my ice-cold hand in his.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to fight the tears away, "Who said I was worried?" I said through my chattering teeth.
John chuckled and kissed the top of my head. We just sat against the wall and waited. The colder it got, the more hopeless we became, and I quickly felt justified in my lack of trust of Rolf. I knew no Nazi was worth trusting, even the most innocent looking ones. He was smart, I had to give him that. He had managed to earn the trust of many helpless people while also keeping his alliance with the Nazi party. I suppose I couldn't blame people for trusting him, we were all looking for safety. He offered that, and so, I guess, he presented a temptation that simply couldn't be resisted. I felt foolish for almost giving in myself. I wondered what he had offered John to gain his trust. John was no fool, and I knew he wouldn't dare trust a man who was part of such a depraved group of people. We were all looking for hope, perhaps he offered them that. I didn't know, all I knew was it was thanks to him John, and I were left to freeze to death in the snow.
I prayed for God to save us and hoped he heard my prayers. I felt myself getting tired, weak and numb. No matter how hard I tried to stay awake, I felt myself begin to drift in and out of consciousness, until all of a sudden the door to the camp opened and Rolf walked through. He quickly came to John and me and began to wake us up. I did my best to get up. I struggled to stretch my stiff, nearly frozen legs, but eventually, I managed to stand.
"Where were you?" I asked, attempting to keep my voice low but also wanting him to feel my fury.
"I was held up," Rolf said, focusing on waking John.
"John could have died," I said, weakly but with anger.
"I know, I'm sorry," Rolf said, still trying to get John to respond to his gentle slaps to his face.
"John is already sick, this will make him worse, and he will get killed for it," I seethed.
Rolf grabbed John by the arm and pulled him to his feet, then he grabbed him by the waist to keep him upright.
"I know. I will do all that I can to make sure John is all right," He said with concern.
I glared at him. "John trusts you, and I trust him, but I will never trust a Nazi."
Rolf seemed a little surprised by my words, but he just nodded and said, "I wouldn't either." He walked over to the door of the camp and looked at me like he was trying very hard to think of something to say. "I'm going to have to pretend he is dead, all right? You need to try to make it back to the other side of the fence. Go against the far side fence; they won't see you there, and if you see a guard, hide someplace, or tell them you are coming back from your father's house."
"Coming back alone? I'm always walked back from working at my father's by a guard," I said.
"Then tell them your father ordered you back into the camp, and he needed the guard to stay back at the house." He insisted.
"My father isn't home," I pointed out obviously.
"Not all the men know that though," Rolf said, seeming quite frustrated.
"What if the guard I run into does know?" I asked, poking holes in his ill-prepared idea.
He thought for a brief, frustrating moment, "Tell them your father just came home and called for you. They nearly all know who you are, they won't question it," Rolf said quickly.
I thought over his words for a second and realized it may be my only choice, "What about John?" I asked with concern.
"I'll take him back to the barracks. I will ask the men there to do their best to keep him warm. I'll see if I can find some extra blankets," He spoke as if he were reciting the plan to himself.
We walked through the door, and Rolf made his way back to the barracks. I did my best to stay in the shadows of the buildings, I did my best to keep out of the spotlights from the towers that stood in all four corners of the camp. I looked around the camp, and saw hundreds of bloodied bodies lying around the camp as though they were garbage that no one had bothered to pick up.
I heard music coming from one of the officer's barracks as I passed by it. I looked into one of the cracks that was on the side of the large building, and I saw the officers drinking, dancing, and singing. I could see that some of the guards still had the blood of their victims on their uniforms. I couldn't understand how those men could sing and dance and cheer after a day that was full of bloodshed. I wondered if the men who were laughing and drinking realized what they had just done. I wondered if any of them truly realized how much damage they were causing or if they cared.
I tried to quietly step over the bodies that lay all around me, even in the darkness, I could see the destruction. I felt the blood of the dead seeping through my worn shoes. I slipped past the spotlights and managed to wedge myself through the hole in the dividing fence. When I was just feet away from my barracks, I heard someone shout at me. I froze. It was one of the female guards. They were just as cruel as the men, and felt as little empathy as the rest of them. The tall woman walked over to me, she squinted her eyes and glared at me through her glasses. She was an older woman.
"What are you doing out here?" She demanded, looking me over.
I felt as though my heart was going to stop. I kept my eyes to the ground and responded,
"Coming back from my father's house. I work for him."
"You are Beth?" The woman seemed surprised.
"Yes," I replied simply.
She circled me and then said, "Get back to barracks."
"Yes, ma'am," I said, walking quickly away from her.
I will never forget walking back into those barracks after that terrible day. Half the women I knew were gone. Grace had been one of them. She had defended me when one of the women had tried to kill me to get revenge upon my father. I wasn't sure if anyone would know that she was dead. She arrived to the camp alone, and she died in the camp alone. She would be thrown into an unmarked mass grave that she most likely helped dig. Tears spilled from my eyes, as my already broken spirit cracked even more. All around me, the women were crying, praying and sobbing. Some of the women just sat in their beds staring at nothing, because they had just seen their world torn apart. The brokenness in that place that night was overwhelming, and I couldn't help but fall apart right along with them.
No rest was had that night or any night after.