The 3 Children and The Cry

The 3 Children and The Cry

A Story by Napoleon has returned
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Relive the tale of the Second World War through the eyes of three orphaned Jewish children.

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The thundering roar of overhead German Luftwaffe, it layered itself onto the peaceful streets of Berlin;like a blanket from hell, a dark moment to tear away all colored pleasance from the city. Thick, foul smelling grey smoke trailed iron bombs with the swastika, as they dropped to the cobble lain ground with a sickening, piercing whistle, only to be met by a cloud of fire in moments. Bricks and shrapnel scattered themselves across the streets, and the Germans beat the civilians to blood and tears, as they screamed for mercy and cried for life. Shattered glass of the windows strewn in a messy manner, reflecting the horrors of war feet away from them, under the clouded black sky of war and tears, no mercy, and no hope of life.

 

A caring mother, caressing her three children onto her lap, comforting them away from their tears. Through their modest house and dust-stained windows, they could see the Germans taking away the other’s, forcing them into lines as they screamed and shouted for their families. They could see the shiny, leather boots of the soldiers, and the blood red armband bearing the black inked swastika. Bodies were piled onto the streets, a frozen look of fear forever plastered onto their faces.

‘Go, my children, the car awaits for you! You must look after each other, the time has come!’

The children looked upon their gentle mother’s face once more, and forcefully pulled themselves away, and into the horrid outside. A truck awaited them, the ‘secret’ men and women who would bring them to safety. The children were quickly shoved into the empty seats of the vehicle, as they waved their mother farewell once more, never to be seen by them again.

 

The truck carried the children away to a lonely neighborhood, but still the  rumble of the bombs echoed in the far distance. The eldest of the children held his sister’s head into his chest as she shook with fear and sorrow, and the three of them huddled in silence as they struggled to make out the word’s of the people on the truck. Abby, Abella and Aaron were their names, Abella the youngest, Aaron the eldest and Abby the happy boy who always had a smile on his face until now. He remembered the times where he and his brother would play on the streets, chasing a ball with their school friends. The school was bombed first, and then were the Jewish teachers shot in front  of the students. The truck came to a stop at a home, similarly large in size as their old home. Abby began to cry, as this reminded him of .his mother, and his father who was taken by the Nazis, forced away from them, forever separated.

‘You must remember, Abby, the meaning of life-it is a give or take world, my son. If you do good for the world, they shall forever repay you of your deeds.’

7y7jbj  nnb   children, as they shook with fear and unknown facts. The man’s eyes were full of both the smoke of the war, and kindness.  ‘Your...new home’ He sa.op;k;;/0

//[ id in broken hebrew. The children stared at him with both confusion and shock, as another person came around them and opened the doors. Aaron, brave and curious, was the first to step out. The house was tall and straight, with neat little flowers and emerald colored grass lining the stone path, to the brown oaked door. He motioned for his sister and brother to come out of the car, and so they followed, taking unsure steps. Their faces were ragged with blood and dirt, but underneath the grime for each of them were two, shining brown eyes. The man stepped out of the car and knocked on the door, three knocks, with second intervals between.

 

A woman, in her middle ages rushed to the door. She was frowning in confusion, but as the man continued to speak she broke into a knowing smile and ushered the three children inside the house. The man continued to speak in a foreign language to the children, and soon the woman closed the door behind her and turned to the children. ‘Welcome to my household,’ She spoke in perfect hebrew, unlike the driver. Abella rushed to her and embraced the woman, and smiled. Aaron stood still, along with Abby. ‘Well then, come upstairs and wash, it's almost suppertime!’ Aaron and Abby walked up the stairs, noticing the clean, tidy smell of the house, and the stacked books and wooden furniture. The glass windows were washed, and the carpet was clean and in its full glory. After the bath, they were seated across a table, and watched as the woman put her hands together and began to recite a prayer; Aaron mumbled a few Jewish ones he was taught in school, and Abby sat uncomfortably at the table with raised eyebrows and a straight mouth. As days went by, the children began to feel more connected with the woman, Adele, they were taught. Adele treated the children with the care of a mother, and had educated them with her own books, as she was a school teacher. Every weekday she would go out to the local school, and bring home the assignments she had handed out to the class. The children had learned many things, from English to the sciences, and had lived a happy life, though every night they would dream of their mother, and their father.

 

It was dinnertime, and as Adele was telling the children a story of Hansel and Gretel, when a pounding went on the door. ‘Offne Dich! Offne Dich!’

‘Quickly, children, go upstairs to the attic, and hide under the red flag bearing the swastika. Do not make a sound and make sure to care for each other! Go!’

The pounding of the soldiers began to loudon, as Adele rushed to the door, and opened it with a plastered smile, and request for them to seat themselves. ‘We hear that you have been hiding some children in your house?’ The soldiers spoke in slightly broken Hebrew. ‘Nonsense! Their are absolutely no one else in this house except for me! My husband died in service for the fuhrer 2 years ago!’

 

‘Then you will not mind us checking the attic then, will you?’

‘Of course not, gentlemen, proceed, but you will find nothing.’ Adele spoke with a surprising calmness, as if this has happened before. The soldiers squeaked the stairs as they walked up, and the rattle of their guns made Abby shiver with fear. Aaron had a hand on Abella’s mouth to prevent her from screaming. He could feel the pressure of the soldier’s boots on the ground as they came closer, and his frozen nerves calmed as they left. Suddenly, a soldier stopped in his tracks, as he bended over, and picked up a doll of Abella’s. ‘What is this?’ He said, in poison laced words. The other Nazi grabbed hold of Adele, and pushed her to the ground. ‘Come with us.’ The door slammed, and the house was deadly silent.

 

A minute passed before the soldiers came back to the house, to search for the children. Aaron had shut the door to attic, and locked it with an iron heater from a table. The soldiers pounded on the door, as they shouted in German for them to open it. ‘Abby! Grab hold of that window and open it!’ Abby rushed for the attic window, and opened it, revealing a 1 storey drop. Underneath, were the shrubs and bushes that Adele had planted. ‘Jump Abby! Jump!’ It took only a moment's hesitation before Abby leapt from the balcony, and unheard. Aaron grabbed hold of Abella, and leapt from the same place as Abby. The soldiers pounded the door, as it shattered into two pieces. The children landed on their backs, and stood up, brushing off the dirt. Everyone was fine. The children rushed to their feet, and followed Aarons lead across the field into the town, where they hid behind a dark alley for hours, starving and crying. A mystified woman came to them, and for a moment they thought it was Adele, but they stopped when they got a closer look.

 

‘Mother!’

‘Follow me, my children, peace at last, peace at last….’

 



© 2017 Napoleon has returned



Author's Note

Napoleon has returned
This short story is only a preview of a bigger coming book, one with more chapters and dialogue. Think of this as a written 'trailer' for literature.

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Added on June 25, 2017
Last Updated on June 25, 2017
Tags: WW2, Nazis, Germans, Jews

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Napoleon has returned
Napoleon has returned

Toronto, Richmond Hill, Canada



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Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules Of Hector and Lysander, and such great names as these. But of all the world's great heroes, there's none that can compare. With a tow, row, row, row, ro.. more..

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