I Hope Your Proud

I stepped out of the barracks. A blister was starting to form on the back of my heel, from the tight leather of my new boots. I straightened my uniform. It was a size too big, but I was used to the oversized shoulders and shirts that reached my knees. I stroked the rough grey of the uniform that my father would be proud to see me wear. I remembered his words as we watched the German soldiers march through our town, “now that’s a real man.”
I looked around me. The sun hid behind the clouds creating a bleak scene. Jewish adults were pulling their clothes on after passing the health test and the other German officers were walking their rounds. A smile played on my lips as I watched the adults celebrate. I guess they could have one happy memory. The music spilled out of the speakers. It had begun.
The song slinked towards me, filling my ears and pouring into my head. It used to remind me of a happy childhood, but now it left a vile taste in my mouth. The war was not what I thought it was. With shaky hands I gripped my gun.
“Please if anyone’s listening, don’t make me use this.”
I watched the children emerge from the barracks. They walked hand in hand with smiles spread across their faces. Their high-pitched little voices sang along to the song. Their happiness made my heart ache. ‘You have to make your father proud,’ was the only words that filled my head as the kids approached the trucks.
“Hey you!!” I watched a German Officer chase after a child making a run for it. ‘I guess not all of them believe the story of a day off work, they can’t all be clueless.’
Then the screaming started. Mothers wailed as they watched their precious children being taken away. They weren’t clueless. A shiver ran down my spine.
“Make your father proud.”
I stared at the crowd of children climbing into the trucks. Then I spotted a tiny brown cap moving through the crowd away from the trucks. I stared at each German Officer. No one had noticed the little boy in the brown cap. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Do I grab the boy and make my father proud? Grab the boy who was only living as his parents did, without knowing any different. Grab the boy and allow him to fall into the roaring fires? His ashes mixing with all the other children, creating a black cloud of despair.
‘You have to make your father proud!’ My heart pounded in my ears. I watched as the boy straightened his cap and started to run and made a decision that would change my life forever.
I let the boy go. As he disappeared to safety, I looked up and watched the sun move from behind the clouds, creating a warm glow in the sky. “I hope your proud father.”

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