Bombs rain from the sky, it is a living hell for the Poland's. The German unit SS-3 and SS-4 march into Poland followed by tanks, and planes. The polish are rounded up on the cracked roads. An SS commander walks through the newly caputered. He stops by the last one, a little boy. Silence falls on the crowd. The boy looks up is he three, four? It didn't matter this commander had no mercy. A pistol was pulled out from deep in the commanders pockets. "Jude?" The commander snarls more then asks. The little child stares at him for a moment, the image of the commander reflecting in his eyes, he puffs out his chest and yells out for all to hear, "Zyd!" The commander pulls the trigger. No one moves except for the body. It slumps to the road in front of the commanders feet. "Filthy Jude." The commander said under his breath as he kicked the body. "The rest of sie, GET ON THAT TRUCK!" He pointed towards a dusty old truck. Many of the people who got on would later be classified as Jews and killed.
