The ones who got away.

Content warning: This story contains depictions of Holocaust violence, abuse, torture, suicide, and trauma.

Prisoner number eleven. 

Part one. 

Lost. 

Before the war he who must not be named was a busker of art. He was admitted to a military hospital as a patient for a Pych assessment and received treatment for trauma he suffered when his unit was attacked by mustard gas in the trenches. He had schizophrenia, Bipolar, and was a psychopath. 

 During the nineteen hundreds six million Jews were murdered by those who cannot be named. They came to their power in Germany in May 1933 and it ended in 1945. Discrimination at its finest level with all due respect. He was a man with great power. He hated society and stereo types. He ordered soldiers to turn on the showers. To burn anyone who was unfit to work. Pregnant woman and children would go first, then it was the elderly and most venerable. 

He would tell them that they were just taking a shower. They were made to take off their belongings and their clothes off their backs. They would turn the showers on but it was actually a gas chamber. Their screams were so ear piercing when they stopped you would know that they were all dead. The soldiers would burn their clothes and dump their bodies in a pit of fire. The soldiers would throw up because of the smell. Brutal. 

If you smoked you would not inhale the smoke chemicals you would draw back the smell of the burning bodies. They would force them to do illegal slave labor, with no toilet brakes but there were no toilets just a bucket that you had to clean when you were finished with it. If they didn't have any buckets, they would have to dig a hole and bury it like a dog and use leaves to wipe. Poor and Inhumane. 

As death rates grew higher the soldiers were asked if they could tattoo the slaves that were fit to work. They used two piercing needles dipped in ink with a grip. The tattoos had three different modes to mark and intimidate the prisoners and to prevent their escape. And to use them as identification numbers. 

The leader of the pack was almost assassinated because a man from his crew let off a bomb in one of his meeting rooms. He failed. In retaliation he killed 4,000 people who he believed were involved. 

So, he went to his underground bunker to tell his hidden wife that they all turned on him. He spiked her drink with cyanide and watched her die right in front of him. They were after them now, so he put a gun to his head and shot himself right next to his wife on April 30, 1945. He left a note saying, "Burn Us." 

This was the end of a very dark era of life. The soldiers went in to hiding, most of them wounded up in jail. The ones that didn't get captured lived their lives with horrible PTSD and saw the faces of the people they killed every minute of every day. 

Part two. 

Connected. 

You might wonder how much I know about the camps and he who must not be named. My great great grandparents were captured in the holocaust. But escaped with money and good knowledge. Malnourished prisoners were forced to work and walk the Death March which was hundreds of miles on foot to evacuate to Germany. Those who were exhausted and had the need to have a brake got shot or severely beaten with battens from the soldiers. Or they were frozen to death and starved to death. 

When the soldiers weren't looking people would try to escape. They would head straight to the water. They'd run as fast as they could. My Omi and my Opi were in different concentration camps, but they boarded on the same boat. 

There was a boat waiting for them to go to Australia they first travelled to China and met at a small cafe right near the water. China was a very busy place. It was so beautiful, but they didn't stay for long. They paid their way, and boarded the connecting ship to Australia was on the docks and ready to save them all. 

They boarded the boat the tide was heavy. Made a lot of them sick. As scurvy was going around at the time. The weather was horrid so windy. As the trip went on, they stuck with each other. Holding hands wherever they went. Smiling. When the ship reached Australia, they felt safe. A massive sigh of relief. They didn't feel lost anymore. They had enough money to see a local doctor. They were both suffering from malnutrition. They both got treatment at a Jewish Hospital. 

After all that they conceived my Papa. Born perfect. He married my Mumma my dad's mum. They were happy. Bought a house together. He was rich. Had a decent job no kids. One brother, two nieces. 

They welcomed my dad and her into their family. She would clean the house and Papa would cook. They got married. He would go overseas for his work and my Mumma would stay at home. She grew to be lonely. This made her depressed. She'd bottle up her feelings with a Gin and Tonic and then explode. Telling my Papa that something was different about him. As it turns out my Papa was cheating on her with a woman that she was great friends with. COWARD! She'd never cried this much before. 

She left him and got an apartment on her own. She grew lonely again. But she knew how to cope. Gin and Tonic. A few years later my Opi passed away from a heart attack in his sleep and my Omi died soon after because of a broken heart. If they were alive today, they would both be around a hundred years old. They died at 81 years old they lived a very happy life surrounded by family and friends in hospital.