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WW II Assignment page two
May. 3rd, 2005 03:45 pmEven after all the destruction that the people of Caen had witnessed, they would still all stop and gawk at some new pile of wreckage. Rescue teams moved aimlessly through the piles of concrete and twisted metal, kicking aside broken furniture, not really working all that hard. Edgardo watched them disdainfully. How foolish they were, to think that there might be survivors in the rubble, and how stupid they must be to think that there would be medical treatment available even if there were survivors. The Jews had monopolized everything, because of them there was only enough of medical supplies, food, and other necessities for the army. Every one else must fend for themselves, for if the army couldn’t not fight then was all was lost. Any people who had been in that building were just regular people, they didn’t deserve help like the army men did.
Edgardo wished more than anything that he was just a few years older. His heart burned with fervor, and he understood the danger to the world. No other nation stood in a position to prevent the Jewish threat, that was what his teacher had said, and he believed his teacher. The evidence of his own eyes repeatedly bore out what his teacher had said. The Germans had come for the Jews, and had not hurt innocent people unnecessarily. The Germans had taken care of them, had watched over them. Only when the enemies of Germany united against them, and the struggle became tougher, did things change. Now the British bombed them mercilessly, even though they were only people. There were few German soldiers in the actual city, instead their positions surrounded it, and yet the city was attacked constantly, ceaselessly, by faceless bombers. Yet Edgardo didn’t doubt that the Germans would protect them if they could, it was so clearly the fault of the British, and the Jew conspirators, there could be no other explanation.
The streets of Caen were littered with the dead, corpses or parts of corpses causing a stench in the summer sun that left the air sweet and disgusting. Everywhere, the buildings, both old and new, stood shattered apart, one whole followed by three with not a wall standing, then an entire block still standing, except for one in the very middle with hardly a stone set against another. There was no rhyme or reason to the destruction, and it caused a burning anger in Edgardo. The bodies of a small child and her family lay in one ruin; in another lay the corpses a German rescue team, a small contingent of soldiers who had come to try to rescue those in a fallen house, until another bomb had hit the same location, destroying them all. As he looked at their bodies, though, an idea began to form, an idea he liked a great deal. Their uniforms were largely intact, their weapons lay beside their bodies, it would be so easy to simply become one of them, to finally get the opportunity to take his stand against the cowards, to fight for freedom and justice, to fight against the centuries of Jewish manipulation.
Picking his way across the wreckage, he stripped a soldier of all of his various paraphernalia, taking careful note of all the details of how the uniform was worn, how the gun was held, at least as much as he could tell from the body. He had always watched the German troops, so he had a decent idea of how to hold himself, how to act, he even was pretty sure he knew how to load and operate the gun, all from watching. He wasn’t worried what passerby’s would think, for he would not be the first to loot a body, and though the very idea of desecrating a German soldier in such a fashion sickened him, he knew, with a certainty he had never felt before, that he was right to do this. Once he had completed his task, he found a secluded spot – with the number of casualties the bombing had caused there were plenty of these – and changed into the uniform.
Confidence streamed into him, the feeling that the uniform was a badge of honor was inescapable. He walked down the street with his head held high, and the people that he saw deferred to him, and he threw back his head and laughed. He was only 13, but right now he looked the part of a youthful German soldier, and no one was questioning it. Now he could finally make them pay.
Edgardo wished more than anything that he was just a few years older. His heart burned with fervor, and he understood the danger to the world. No other nation stood in a position to prevent the Jewish threat, that was what his teacher had said, and he believed his teacher. The evidence of his own eyes repeatedly bore out what his teacher had said. The Germans had come for the Jews, and had not hurt innocent people unnecessarily. The Germans had taken care of them, had watched over them. Only when the enemies of Germany united against them, and the struggle became tougher, did things change. Now the British bombed them mercilessly, even though they were only people. There were few German soldiers in the actual city, instead their positions surrounded it, and yet the city was attacked constantly, ceaselessly, by faceless bombers. Yet Edgardo didn’t doubt that the Germans would protect them if they could, it was so clearly the fault of the British, and the Jew conspirators, there could be no other explanation.
The streets of Caen were littered with the dead, corpses or parts of corpses causing a stench in the summer sun that left the air sweet and disgusting. Everywhere, the buildings, both old and new, stood shattered apart, one whole followed by three with not a wall standing, then an entire block still standing, except for one in the very middle with hardly a stone set against another. There was no rhyme or reason to the destruction, and it caused a burning anger in Edgardo. The bodies of a small child and her family lay in one ruin; in another lay the corpses a German rescue team, a small contingent of soldiers who had come to try to rescue those in a fallen house, until another bomb had hit the same location, destroying them all. As he looked at their bodies, though, an idea began to form, an idea he liked a great deal. Their uniforms were largely intact, their weapons lay beside their bodies, it would be so easy to simply become one of them, to finally get the opportunity to take his stand against the cowards, to fight for freedom and justice, to fight against the centuries of Jewish manipulation.
Picking his way across the wreckage, he stripped a soldier of all of his various paraphernalia, taking careful note of all the details of how the uniform was worn, how the gun was held, at least as much as he could tell from the body. He had always watched the German troops, so he had a decent idea of how to hold himself, how to act, he even was pretty sure he knew how to load and operate the gun, all from watching. He wasn’t worried what passerby’s would think, for he would not be the first to loot a body, and though the very idea of desecrating a German soldier in such a fashion sickened him, he knew, with a certainty he had never felt before, that he was right to do this. Once he had completed his task, he found a secluded spot – with the number of casualties the bombing had caused there were plenty of these – and changed into the uniform.
Confidence streamed into him, the feeling that the uniform was a badge of honor was inescapable. He walked down the street with his head held high, and the people that he saw deferred to him, and he threw back his head and laughed. He was only 13, but right now he looked the part of a youthful German soldier, and no one was questioning it. Now he could finally make them pay.
