The Holocaust

The Holocaust

We stand by the river, which is cold and still, no ripples dare break the surface. Everything is silent, not even the wind dares to rustle the trees, not even a raven dares to cackle. For this is our last stand, along the river bed, silent and shaking in the early dawn mist.

Slowly the lines of Jews reach out to each other and lock their hands together. Then with clear intentions, as one, our hands raise. Silhouetted against the beautiful dawn sky, hands of many, together, united, reaching towards the heavens.

Suddenly the deafening call of a shot blasts out, cutting through the silence, followed by a sickening splash, as the first body slaps down in the water. 

They have screamed at us, spat at us, beat us, tormented us, and now they will go as far as to kill us. That is how our lives have been lived, always in fear of death or a merciless beating.

Now our lives will to be cut short by the ones who tormented us from the beginning.

Wet footprints in the sand, soon to be filled with water that will run red with the blood of our kin. Piles of shoes sitting, lonely, soon to lose their owners to the frothy waves of the calm river.

We stand, waiting. Now with no possessions, we are bare; our dignity is lost, lost with the lapping water that rippled from the slosh of bodies hitting water, lost when our clothes were stripped from our bare skin.

Silently we wait, flinching as the men, not unlike ourselves, shoot down innocent people in cold blood. We watch in silence as the rows of men and women are shot down. The water is a frothy red mess from the number of bodies that have disappeared beneath the surface, many never to be seen again. 

An arm, a leg, a floating body, people, many a shape, age and size. Gone. Swallowed by the hungry waves.

A young girl stands a couple of metres away from me, shaking from fear, cold, or the endless tears that flow in steady streams down her soft cheeks. I watch her and I see her counting down the number of shots before her moment comes. She will be the first child to drown beneath the frothy red waves. 

I turn away as the shot rings out but all can hear the wet sloosh her innocent body makes as it sinks beneath the surface. 

Now I hear us, crying, wailing, staring glassy eyed into the distance. Hundreds of people, crying for the loss of one girl, a single innocent girl who was ruthlessly murdered by these men, these monsters.

I fall, head held tightly in my hands, gripping, clawing...The screams continue, the monsters do not pause, some of us run, but there is nowhere to run to. All that fills my head is the endless screams and cries of my people being shot down as they run, tripping, and falling as crimson red blood rains down and the river once so clear and pure becomes alive with the wails of those beneath the surface. The dead, calling out for understanding, for revenge, for forgiveness for those who caused this massacre. 

Body shaking, clawing and scratching at my head, my heart thundering, not slowing down, breathing comes out in harsh ragged breaths.. Between my fingers I see bodies, my friends, my family, people falling, people dead. I want it to stop, this massacre, all these deaths. 

I hear the footsteps, calm and strong, and now I know my time has truly come. Anger thrives and in my head, the voices lurk, of the dead. I turn and meet cold eyes of steel, I nod and say "My children, lost among so many, they are gone, forever, beneath the waves. You killed them all, so many graves, but my people will always remain strong." 

The man with eyes of steel bears down on me, I do not flinch, I do not care “You killed them all, the innocent, the scared, the ones who did not care; you killed them all with a single call. Dead, beneath your feet, but do you ever stop to think, now we are gone, why are you so incomplete?" 

The final shot rings out, the man is dead, cold eyes now closed. I look around to see mouths agape, I stand and walk, no looking back. Stand tall, be strong I remind myself. For I am the one God saved. The man gave his life in exchange for mine, cold eyes, cooler than steel but inside, kind and fine.

And the river runs red with blood,   

No escape for those already lost, 

The river banks now crimson mud, 

They have paid the utmost cost.