Author Topic: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust  (Read 2906 times)

Offline SmokinLoon

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #45 on: February 05, 2012, 12:40:25 AM »
6 of my uncles served in vietnam. 2 of the 6 also in korea.1 who was a Green Beret in vietnam. I say on behalf of most vietnam vets I've spoken to.

they think that the vietnamese are rats. nothing but vermin. they felt no different killing a VC or NVA soldier then they would shooting a racoon. To this day my uncles still think that they are nothing but sewer rats

P.S didnt mean to hijack the thread  :salute

Are you the same guy with the SS grandfather?    You are full of information.   
Proud grandson of the late Lt. Col. Darrell M. "Bud" Gray, USAF (ret.), B24D pilot, 5th BG/72nd BS. 28 combat missions within the "slot", PTO.

Offline SmokinLoon

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #46 on: February 05, 2012, 12:47:31 AM »
No we don't. His character is very much like the other "characters" we've been discussing in this thread. He's a man who's dehumanized an entire people and reduced them to "sandbags". We do not need more people whose souls are ripped out when they're barely adults. People who struggle trough life and only regain their humanity when they're senior citizens. That's Eastwood's character.

Me thinks you are taking that too far, waaay too far. 

That movie was awesome, btw.  One f my favorite movies of all time!   :rock
Proud grandson of the late Lt. Col. Darrell M. "Bud" Gray, USAF (ret.), B24D pilot, 5th BG/72nd BS. 28 combat missions within the "slot", PTO.

Offline 4Prop

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #47 on: February 05, 2012, 01:01:21 AM »
Are you the same guy with the SS grandfather?    You are full of information.   

yep. but this is on the other side of the family

Offline Patches1

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #48 on: February 05, 2012, 08:53:53 AM »
Quote
If they asked me why I did what I did, I honestly wouldn’t have an answer… If they asked me how many poor souls I had brutally beaten or killed I feel that I could not answer. If they asked me how I could live with myself after this horror story I could not tell for I do not have an answer. One story haunts me more than any other a woman who had used her own body for protection for her young child, I was their death sentence, they had no chance.

Before the war the idea of killing someone had never come to mind, if it had I’m sure I would have protested the idea. To think that a person could kill another person is beyond me. I mean the victim has a history in life, all that was worked up to get to where they were cut off by the brutal hand of man, the idea sickened me. Yet here I am doing the very thing I never gave a second thought about.

I worked at a sorting station at a concentration camp somewhere in Austria, I forget the name as it has been to long. Day after day hundreds and sometimes thousands of Jews would pass me, my Mp-40 at hand constantly ready to pull the trigger. I felt it was my duty to protect the world from all impurities that challenged our perfection in this world.

 

I had never shot anyone yet, most of the time someone got out of line I would simply kick them and shout to get back in line, sometimes I would hit them with the butt of my gun to make them cooperate. The questions that followed I had no answer for, the “Why are you doing this” they often times shouted under the blows of me and my fellow collogues. I didn’t like to think about the pain we inflicted on their frail bodies, the injuries that could end up having them die or be killed. I was a monster but at the same time attempted pity on the poor souls.

In early fall of 1944, we were done in, I was moved to another camp that demanded more brutal treatment than my previous one, We were on edge as news that the Soviet front was fast approaching and was becoming unstoppable. Brutality increased as we attempted to eradicate as much life as we could before the final blow was stuck to us. This was the first time I was ever demanded to shoot a living person. In the sorting line men were separated from young children and women, the women and children were send off to the crematoriums or shot on the spot, I was assigned to kill a woman who was on the ground huddled over her young infant who appeared to have been severely beaten. The tears strained the ground, the screams pierced the air, she begged for life.

My Superior officer dragged the two over to a dirt field and exchanged my submachine gun for a rifle, he ordered me to shoot them like dogs. I thought about asking to have someone else do it, I thought of the rebellion I would get for being soft, I grabbed the rifle and told them to stand. The woman shouted again that her life be spared along with her child. My superior walked off to go beat some other prisoners who weren’t cooperating and left me the job to do. I walked over to her and the child and kneeled down. Words refused to come out but I finally uttered “I’m sorry I have to do this, it pleases me no more than it does you” I sighed deeply of all the things I wanted to do this defiantly was not one of them.

Her shouting stopped and she looked at me, the eyes showed no sign of life just fear and despair. There was nothing I could do but assure her it would be quick and I would try to be fast about it. She begun crying again and clutched her child close to her “I don’t care about myself anymore, just please don’t hurt my baby” she managed to scream out. The child had begun to cry to over his mother’s distraught figure. These words still haunt me today. For I wish I could have saved one of them, but in the end my superior came back and asked why I had not killed them. He laughed and went over and stood them up, I had no choice. I raised my gun to her head, I’m sure she didn’t want to see her child die before her eyes. She turned around and shielded the toddler, I aimed and closed me eyes. I didn’t hear the shot, all I felt was the pat on my back as my superior told me to open my eyes and behold the scene of which plagues my dreams still. The woman had been shot in the back of the head, her figure was spread along the ground, eyes open, staring blankly at me.

The feeling of sickness filled me as I saw the infant crawl up to her and cry for her to move. I turned my head I did not wish to see this horrible scene. Gunshots rang out, my superior seeing I didn’t have it anymore to shoot again pulled out his pistol and fired at the child multiple times. They were both dead before me, this I may never forget.

"Show, don't tell..." These are the words spoken to me by my Writing Lab Teacher when I was in High School way back in 1966 when I wrote a three page story based upon an actual encounter my brother had experienced in Viet Nam.

"Show" versus "Tell"...what does that mean? What I learned was that it means to paint a picture with words.

Your task was to write about a picture that you selected, and I think you did a credible job. I do have a few questions for you to think about as you look at the picture in depth: was the Soldier shooting at the woman, or something else? Is the Woman the Mother of the child, and if so, what is she doing? If the woman is not the mother of the child, what is she doing, and who is she, and whose child is she carrying? If the Soldier is not shooting at the woman and child, at what is he shooting, and why? Who is the Soldier? Is the Soldier actually shooting, or just pointing his weapon? Where is his home? Where is the woman's home? Who is the child? Why do you think the Soldier is exterminating the Woman and Child and not protecting them from an unseen threat? How could you adopt your story to reflect an unseen threat and write it from the unseen threat's point of view? Who, or what, is the unseen threat?

When you think of each question I have asked, it opens up opportunity to enhance your story; paint with words.

Keep up the good work!
"We're surrounded. That simplifies the problem."- Lewis B. "Chesty" Puller, General, USMC

Offline Old Sport

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #49 on: February 05, 2012, 10:20:26 AM »


This version of the image appears even less ambiguous.

Offline F22RaptorDude

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #50 on: February 05, 2012, 11:45:45 AM »
(Image removed from quote.)

This version of the image appears even less ambiguous.
Well there goes my story up in flames...
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Offline Old Sport

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #51 on: February 05, 2012, 12:49:51 PM »
Well F22, the photo you posted is more ambiguous so if that's the one assigned, then go with it. Apparantly the original photo is even wider angle and includes some other civilians on the right who look like they are trying to get away. At least one web location that has the photo posted said this was an Ensatzgruppen action, and that would not lend itself well to the idea of squimishness. On the other hand, a few years ago I saw a video about someone I believe was an SS officer at one of the death camps, I believe Auschwitz, and he recently went public with his story as a clerk in charge of accounting for the money taken from the victims to refute the revisionists who say that very few Jews were killed, and that Germany wasn't really guilty of this crime. He went on record to say that the usual estimated number of victims is correct, not the low numbers of the revisionists, and that he was remorseful for what he did.

Offline Penguin

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #52 on: February 05, 2012, 05:36:19 PM »
Be careful when you talk about all of revisionist history like that.  Much of it cleared away the hard feelings of the time that the previous history had been written in, but others took it too far, like what you said.  The SS are a tricky subject not least because of their position in history.  However, there is a rational explanation for their actions.  First, empathy is not distributed equally, and so some people will naturally be more disposed to acts of exploitation, violence, even genocide than others.  If you take that distribution and combine it with the distributions of those who were more active in the muscle side of the Nazi party and soldiers who had good track records in combat, you get a pretty good approximation of the criteria that described most SS members.  Of course there were exceptions, such as the Jewish members, but every society has an 'SS' if you substitute any violent extremist organization for the Nazi party.

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Offline jimson

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #53 on: February 05, 2012, 10:44:49 PM »
I think it's a good story. There has to be some people who were involved in that had some shred of humanity and would have been distressed by having to commit such an act.

It strikes a good balance between the callousness of the superior and the despair of the underling.

If the subject had looked upon it as stepping on a bug, it wouldn't be a very interesting story now would it?

Offline Old Sport

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #54 on: February 06, 2012, 08:45:14 AM »
Be careful when you talk about all of revisionist history like that...

Perhaps you should send your comment to Oskar Gröning, the person I referred to.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oskar_Gr%C3%B6ning

Offline Guppy35

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #55 on: February 06, 2012, 09:11:34 AM »
You can not speak for all of the members of the SS.  Many joined the SS not because of they felt they were superior but rather as a status symbol.  Be very careful when you try and tell the story of the executioner, you don't know a think about him other than her is wearing the uniform of a German soldier.  I'd be willing to bet he was forced to do what he is doing in that photo.  He probably didn't enjoy doing any more than you or I.  Don't worry though, I don't blame you or anyone else for the knee jerk responses regarding Nazis, they are everyone's favorite bad guy to berate.  After all, each and every one of the Nazis were a cold-blooded Jew-hating German, right?

Not a knee jerk reaction.  I've spent most of my 51 years reading and researching WW2.  I've had a long time fascination with the SS and how they got to be what they were.  I did not say all Germans were Jew hating Nazi's.  We're talking about an SS Einsatzgruppen, who were the first in after the troops, with the sole job of rounding up and executing the Jews and other undesirables.  We're talking about fanatical Nazi's whose only purpose was to serve their master.

If you want to talk SS history and their role in WW2 I'll go up, around, down and over talking about them.  Do not try and lump them in with the ordinary German soldiers who fought in WW2.  You didn't join that club for the perks.
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Offline Shuffler

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #56 on: February 06, 2012, 12:54:39 PM »
You can not speak for all of the members of the SS.  Many joined the SS not because of they felt they were superior but rather as a status symbol.  Be very careful when you try and tell the story of the executioner, you don't know a think about him other than her is wearing the uniform of a German soldier.  I'd be willing to bet he was forced to do what he is doing in that photo.  He probably didn't enjoy doing any more than you or I.  Don't worry though, I don't blame you or anyone else for the knee jerk responses regarding Nazis, they are everyone's favorite bad guy to berate.  After all, each and every one of the Nazis were a cold-blooded Jew-hating German, right?

Yes the Nazis were.
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Offline PR3D4TOR

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #57 on: February 06, 2012, 02:18:57 PM »
All Nazis didn't hate Jews, though they were at least indifferent to the suffering the Nazi party was inflicting on European Jewry, which isn't much better.
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Offline Penguin

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #58 on: February 06, 2012, 02:36:18 PM »
Perhaps you should send your comment to Oskar Gröning, the person I referred to.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oskar_Gr%C3%B6ning

You misquoted me.  I had and still do concede that some revisionist historians went too far, while most of it cleared the picture up.

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Offline F22RaptorDude

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Re: Little something I wrote about in Lit. About the Holocaust
« Reply #59 on: February 06, 2012, 02:52:55 PM »
updated it before I turned it in today, teacher had the  :O face, I felt awesome!

Quote
If they asked me why I did what I did, I honestly wouldn’t have an answer… If they asked me how many poor souls I had brutally beaten or killed I feel that I could not answer. If they asked me how I could live with myself after this horror story, I could not tell for I do not have an answer. One story haunts me more than any other, a woman who had used her own body for protection for her young child, I was their death sentence, they had no chance. Before the war the idea of killing someone had never come to mind, if it had I’m sure I would have protested the idea. To think that a person could kill another person is beyond me. I mean the victim has a history in life, all that was worked up to get to where they being cut off by the brutal hand of man, the idea sickened me. Yet here I am doing the very thing I never gave a second thought about. I worked at a sorting station at a concentration camp somewhere in Austria, I forget the name as it has been too long. Day after day hundreds and sometimes thousands of Jews would pass me, my Mp-40 at hand constantly ready to pull the trigger. I felt it was my duty to protect the world from all impurities that challenged our perfection in this world. I had never shot anyone and hoped I would never have to. Most of the time someone got out of line I would simply kick them and shout to get back in line, sometimes I would hit them with the butt of my gun to make them cooperate. I had sympathy, I was weak minded but the pressure of what would happen to me if I didn't not meet the demands of the SS was un-Imaginable. I did not want to end up like the majority of the Jews that passed before me and were beaten and killed. I wormed my way in and out tuff situations. The questions that often followed their arrival I never had an answer to, the “Why are you doing this” and "What have we done to deserve this" they often times shouted under the blows of me
and my fellow collogues. I didn’t like to think about the pain we inflicted on their bodies, the injuries that could end up having them die or be killed. I was a monster but at the same time attempted pity on the poor souls. In early fall of 1944, we were done in, the Russian front was inching close and closer every second as we lost ground to the constant barrage of bombs and bullets. I was moved to another camp that demanded more brutal treatment than my previous one, We were on edge. Brutality increased as we attempted to eradicate as much life as we could before the final blow was stuck to us. This was the first time I was ever demanded to shoot a living person. In the sorting line men were separated from young children and women, the women and children were send off to the crematoriums or shot on the spot, I was assigned to kill a woman who was on the ground huddled over her toddler who appeared to have been severely beaten. The tears strained the ground, the screams that pierced the air, she begged for life, it was all too much for me. My Superior officer dragged the two over to a dirt field and exchanged my submachine gun for a rifle, he ordered me to shoot them like dogs. I thought about asking to have someone else do it, I thought of the rebellion I would get for protesting, I grabbed the rifle and hesitantly told them to stand. The woman shouted again that her life be spared along with her child. My superior walked off to go beat some other prisoners who weren’t cooperating and left me the job to do. I walked over to her and the child and kneeled down. Words refused to come out but I finally uttered “I’m sorry I have to do this, it pleases me no more than it does you” I sighed deeply of all the things I wanted to do this defiantly was not one of them, I never wanted to have to do anything like this. Her shouting stopped and she looked at me, the eyes told the story, nothing but fear and despair. I wanted to help more than anything but there was nothing I could do but assure her it would be quick and I would try to be fast about it. She began crying again and clutched her child close to her “I don’t care about myself anymore, just please don’t hurt my child” she screamed out. The child had begun to cry too, Reality must have set in and he realized that something bad was to happen soon. The looks of hopelessness still haunts my mind to this day. I wish I could have saved one of them, I would have given anything for both, but in the end my superior came back and asked why I had not killed them. I told him I was not feeling well. He laughed and went over and stood them up, I had no choice. Mind snapped to panic mode, I tried not to show it in my face, but inside I was screaming. I slowly raised my gun to her head, I’m sure she didn’t want to see her child die before her eyes. She turned around and shielded the toddler, I aimed and pulled the trigger eyes closed. I didn’t hear the shot, all I felt was the pat on my back as my superior told me to open my eyes and behold the scene of which plagues my dreams still. The woman had been shot in the back of the head, her figure was spread along the ground, eyes open, staring blankly at me. The feeling of sickness filled me as I saw the toddler crawl up to her and cry for her to move. I turned my head I did not wish to see this horrible scene. Gunshots rang out, my superior seeing I didn’t have it anymore to shoot again pulled out his pistol and fired at the child multiple times. The toddlers body lay spear across his mother's body, face tear stained, eyes blank and dead. Never would he see happiness, nor would he experience the joy of life alongside his parents. They were both dead before me, I made no move to save them, but I felt at the same time there was nothing I could have done anyway. My superior walked off laughing, the feeling of hatred filled me. There was nothing I could do, I took one last look at the 2 bodies and got back in line, still screaming inside to this day.
The paragraphs were spaced, but on copy and paste it isn't
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