“Every year we easily recall the one who died for everything. As easily as we forget, the following week, the multitude that died for nothing.” Quoted an Author Unknown.
It’s the same. It’s always the same. It begins with a last breath of winter wind slipping past a closing door. A spinal chill, a shaking shudder and awareness.
Uninsulated plank-board walls barely hold the exterior cold at bay. A single incandescent bulb dangling at the rooms center provides the only light. Illuminating the rooms sparse furnishings, the paper plan-work on the table directly below it. Occasionally glinting off the iron and hooked crosses which are so prominent against gray uniforms of the three men standing round it.
Conversing behind their hands, in concealed whispers. With side glances of disgust and distrust in my direction. They have learned of my deception, are aware of my defection but know nothing of the bayonet concealed in my sleeve.
Time shortens by moment. Darkness blends blood (some mine, most not) to mine own gray. Slipping away into the night to inform, warn and forewarn the… enemy? Sidling along in the barrack’s shadows my heart aches for the cries from within. There is a face, at a window, a young girl with wavy brown hair. Too pale, too thin, and somehow, she knows my heart and smiles. If only you… all of you could only exit those wretched gates with me. But my egress is not forthcoming.
Surrounded. My treachery discovered. My bayonet is drawn. So too are their Lugers. Bullets rip and tear. My body twists, writhes and I fall… awake.
That war is long over. I was never there. It is the morning of April 24th, 2025. (You might be reading this sometime today). And the girl from my dreams, flits past my open door.
Finding her in the kitchen with John Q. (my diminutive yellow, stuffed-bear sidekick). Wearing matching striped pajamas? John’s crayons are scattered about the table as he struggles to draw a 6-pointed star. Then asks “Holly” (because that is what he calls her) if it is right. Smiling and nodding she explains the significance of the star.
My “good morning” goes unanswered. Because I am not really here. As she produces a small clay top and presents it to a delighted John Q.
My lack of reality is further endorsed when the prim and proper Thee Secretary (HCSAWWT’s secretary in residence) enters the room with an armload of DVDs and VHS tapes and walks right thru me. Thee informs- “Mister Q. and Missus Caust” that the viewing will commence in the living room shortly. John asks if there will be movie snacks. No snacks… not today.
Frank a.k.a. the angel of death (a close friend of mine) is already there. He’s in his human guise, looking like a silent-era movie star dressed in a ruffled black suit and fedora with a Marlboro lodged between his lips. Ever composed it’s surprising that he bursts into tears when Holly enters the room- “There were so many and so many so young!” She goes to him, embraces him with compassion, touch of death notwithstanding, and comforts- “Tis not the fault of death but the err of evil men who deal it.”
Eyes dried, breaths caught. Before they begin Thee reminds them that they are all welcome to attend the candlelight vigil at her local church tonight. All confirm their attendance.
As this impromptu WW2 film festival begins, there is a feeling of reverence in the room. As we play silent witness to the horrors that unfolded and the stories of the few that walked away. I turn my head not to look. I toss it back to hold back the tears. I toss; I turn… I wake up.
It’s the morning of April 24th, 2025, and it was just a dream. But from the kitchen I can hear John Q. singing the Dreidel song… with female accompaniment.
During World War II, Adolf Hitler’s Nazi Germany, aided by its collaborators, systematically murdered some six million European Jews, around two-thirds of the Jewish population, between 1941 and 1945.
We will not dwell on this subject and give precedence or unintentional morbid glory to this horrific time in human history. April 24th 2025 is Holocaust Remembrance Day. Please take time to dedicate a moment. Thank you.
I welcome almost all questions, comments via Focus, or email me at wanderingchainsaw@gmail.com. Hope to hear from ya, until then try and stay focused! See ya.
