Part 1- A Girl Of Wax
Nothing is more enjoyable than educating a young girl- a girl of eighteen or twenty, as pliable as wax
~Adolf HitlerI was walking along the Brienner Straße (Briennerstrasse), I had moved to München (Munich) a month ago for a reporting job at München Post. I had just been given a job to do on a Nazi Martyr, Klaus Müller, since I was the only person there.
I noticed a crowded around an ally, I went over and saw a Jew from the Hasidic sect. I saw two people standing over the man, the man seemed to only be in his mid-twenties, he looked badly hurt, blood going down his face. In the automobile there was a girl, maybe a year older than I, rocking back and forth, looking like she was going to cry, I assumed she has involved in what happened in the ally.
I felt knots in my stomach, I noticed two boys were standing over the man. Both seemed my age, I recognised one to be Klaus Müllers son, I've seen him at Herr Hitler's speeches, he looked to be not much taller than I, maybe six foot?I noticed he was talking to a girl who looked a bit like him, I recognised the girl, it was Fräulein Gretchen Müller, the very person I was looking for. She seemed to be a few inches shorter than myself, what I could guess was dark blonde hair in a single plait, and a fair complexion. Her brother had started to walk toward her, I heard the other SA fellow start to laugh "We're defending ourselves, Gretchen." I was right, I got the right person. "Didn't you see the subhuman walking across the street, right in front of us? Why, I did all I could to avoid hitting the fellow!" The SA fellow said before grabbing the man's hair, yanking the poor guy up, making the fellow looking into the other SA fellows' eyes.
"You ought to let him alone," The girl said, I was rather shocked at this action, I thought she would cheer them on. Maybe there is some hope yet for her. Her voice had the typical Bavarian accent I've only just gotten used to, it was somewhat calm, but I assumed from her body language, and the slight unevenness at the end she was nervous; I wouldn't blame her, her brother was tall, and very capable of hurting her if he wanted to. "This behaviour is exactly the sort that Uncle Dolf says makes the SA look like a bunch of brutes." Her stern, factual voice said. It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself of her actions. Although she has a point, the SA and SS are known for street fights, I didn't know Herr Hitler opposed these actions, well, I assume 'Uncle Dolf' was referring to Herr Adolf Hitler.
The two siblings stared at each other, I knew my sisters and I fought, but never once was it this intense, I could just imagine how Fräulein Müller would be feeling, her brother put knots in my stomach, her brother looked annoyed, daring her to speak again.
The Jew had looked towards Fräulein Müller with a desperate expression, I guessed she saw it, given she was looking that way, the Jew had hung his head, giving up on her help. "Let him alone. Uncle Dolf is waiting for us, and he'll be annoyed if we're late" she said slightly rushed, making me struggle to understand since she had spoken quickly and quietly."Waiting for us fellows, you mean" Herr Müller corrected, uninviting Fräulein Müller, and the girl in the automobile "I think you and Eva have shown you're quite incapable of handling an evening out on the town." He reasoned. I tried not to scoff, she just watched him beat a perfectly innocent man, who wouldn't want the fight to stop? And if I recall correctly, their father had died not that far from here due to a street confrontation.
Herr Müller grabbed the Hasidic man and pulled on the fellow's coat and punched the fellow, I had to try not to reach "Stop!" Fräulein Müller screamed, her voice startling me, it sounded like she was the one getting punched, rather than the man who had just met her brother's fist. I noticed a police officer standing in the mouth of the ally, probably investigating the scream.
Suddenly Herr Müller let go of the man and wrapped an arm around his sister's waist, I saw panic in her face as he pulled her close. He said something, making the girl pale even more than she already was "...get back to the car" he practically ordered.
"What's the matter here?" The officer questioned in a stern voice.Fräulein Müller's brother let her go, making the girl stagger into the wall, resting her hand on it to gain her composure.
"Nothing is wrong, a misunderstanding, that's all" Herr Müller lied.
"Get along, then, and look smart about it" the officer ordered. I took a few steps back, not wanting to be seen by the boys, if they recognised me, I might as well consider myself as unfortunate as the other Jew.
The boys walked out and went to the car, however Fräulein Müller stayed in the ally, this was my chance to speak with her.Her brother and comrade had already gotten to the café behind me when Fräulein Müller looked up, her face had a confused expression. She started to breathe heavily before she stood still and looked blankly at the wall, like she was reliving a harsh memory. She turned to the man and spoke some quiet words to him.
I saw him give her his thanks before she replied in a blank tone "You'd better get home," she said after a few seconds.
The man limped off before the girl looked my way, she took a few steps, probably trying to figure out what I might look like, as I was hidden in shadow "You're not like the others," I said, she seemed taken aback to hear me, maybe my accent, or the fact I even spoke, "Are you Fräulein Müller?" I asked, wanting to confirm it was her, although I'm almost certain it was her.She stared at me, shocked and confused, I couldn't really blame her, I had just addressed her by her name, and who wouldn't get slightly confused, that is unless they are famous, and Fräulein Müller would only be known by those you read the local papers or are in the Party.
"Who are you?" she asked in a cautious tone.
I took a step towards her, letting some street light wash over me, making myself easier to see, her eyes widened, and she took a step back, I opened my mouth to speak again "You've surprised me, Fräulein Müller. Not an easy feat, I promise you." I said, referring to how she had spoken up against her brother, and had checked on the Jew.
"Who the devil-" she had started to speak, almost to herself before she was cut off by her friends' heels on the cobblestone path, I pulled my fedora down and jogged off quickly and quietly, not wanting to keep her and her friend waiting.
I heard her friend call Fräulein Müller's name "Gretchen!" her friend called as I turned the corner.
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Daniel Pov Prisoner Of Night And Fog
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