Holocaust Short Stories

Free: Pt. One

Disclaimer: This short story has the use of the word: Kraut. If you don't know what it means, it's simply a derogatory term for Germans. With that said, I have no offense towards Germans in any way, and do not intend to insult. This is what they called them back then during the war, so it is only being used for the purpose of the story.

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The first concentration camp Louis ever saw, was the first his platoon came to let out. With Hitler dead and the Germans on the run, the enslaved Jews were finally able to be set free.

Louis thought that it was the most hopeless place he had ever seen. Jews gathered by the fences, their faces grim an broken down. The gates were opened letting out an onslaught of people desperate to be gone from the camp. Soldiers passed out food to the hungry men and women, providing medical treatment where needed. Men were sent out to search the rest of the concentration camp in hopes of finding any other Germans or Jews who had been left behind. The Germans would be taken back and most likely killed, while the Jews would be fed and helped away from the awful hellhole of the camp.

Louis couldn't seem to get their bleak faces out of his head as he walked down the streets of the camp, eyes peeled for survivors. A cold rain began to fall, pinging on his dented helmet. With a heavy sigh, Louis ducked into one of the buildings, stooping his head so as not to hit it on the door frame. He reached just over six feet, like most of the men on his platoon, who all had similar problems with doors.

A small whimper and a shuffling noise from deep inside the building made Louis turn to look towards the far corner. He seemed to be inside of a barracks of some sort. The walls were dominated by bunks that stacked almost up to the ceiling, all filled with remnants of what looked to be straw or hay. Another rack of bunks stood in the center of the room, concealing whatever lay deep inside of the building from his view.

Louis took another step forward, his heavy feet sounding like a thunderclap in the silent building. The scuffling noise emitted from the corner again, causing Louis to tense and pull out a Luger he had stolen from a German. It was the only weapon that didn't seem too extreme.

Carefully rounding the corner, with the Luger brandished out in front of him, he stopped abruptly upon seeing what was in the corner. Smashed between two rows of bunks sat a Jewish woman with her legs pressed to her body and her hands thrown up in front of her face in what was either defense or surrender.

Her face was bruised and one of her cheek bones appeared to be broken, with dried blood smeared over the side of her face. Her eyes held only pure terror, something Louis had never seen in a person before. This woman truly thought she was going to die. It was the look in her eyes that made him realize that he was a six foot mountain of muscle looming over her, pointing a German gun at her head. Louis quickly dropped the Luger on the floor. Her eyes widened as he sunk to the floor, holding his hands out for her to see.

"Do you speak English?" he asked. He desperately hoped that she did. The only German he knew was from high school, and he hadn't excelled in the course either. She only looked at him for a long moment, and he was about to ask the same question in a botched version of the german language when she slowly nodded.

"Y-yes." She wrapped her arms around her small body, bowing her head.

"I won't hurt you, I promise. I thought you were a Kraut." He apologized. She glanced up at him, her eyes filled with confusion at the slang. "German," he amended. She nodded slowly, averting her gaze down. After a long moment, she spoke again.

"So, you're not one of them?" she asked, nodding her head towards the Luger he had dropped earlier. The question was clear. Louis shot her a grin and pulled off his helmet, revealing a mess of spiky, unruly blond hair.