Theseus and the Minotaur myth WW2 versionA Story by rae52 written for school thought i might as well post it Rachel Davies Theseus
and the Minotaur WW2 style.
Adolph Hitler was a formidable man;
he was the leader of the German Nazi campaign.
He had piercing steel-blue eyes and brown hair, he wanted to create a
new race of people who had blue eyes and blonde hair, he believed that physical
disabilities were punishable as was old age and following the Jewish religion
along with many other uncontrollable things.
When he came to power Hitler began to punish these people, using
concentration and death camps, Hitler imprisoned these undesirable people. The concentration camps were work camps
people were forced to under take back breaking labour and the death camps were
worse; there people were killed in a number of different ways, some were use to
test medicines and vaccines; these were injected with deadly illnesses and
almost all died. Others were subjected to gas chambers, while some were frozen
to death.
Juergen Kuczynski was the son
of the leader of the ‘Free German’ campaign and when the British Intelligence approached
them looking for volunteer spies he vowed to go, “Father, I must go on this mission,
for years now we have been campaigning, but if no one will go and gather this
intelligence how will what we dream of come to be, I have now heard rumours of
these camps, I will go and you shall know I will not die for the sheer
determination in my heart will not allow it.
I shall not die for I owe it to these people to live and have them
freed! I shall not die for a great man
taught me you must fight for what you believe in! I will go, my mind is made up
and it shall not be unmade!”
One month later Juergen was still of
the same mind, he wasn’t going to be stopped he knew that much though he knew
little else, but as he boarded the plane he could see his fathers face haggard
with worry, with the worry that he would not return. In a moment of guilt Juergen tore a page out
of his diary on it he wrote to words ‘I will return’ and he threw it out of the
plane door seconds before it slammed shut.
Hoping against hope that somehow it would come to his father and give
him what little comfort it could.
As Juergen got a glimpse of his
fatherland his heart raced, for even though it was a land besieged by war it
was his home, a true home not just a refuge.
Lost in the happy memories of childhood, the reality didn’t crash down
till he was called forward. As the last
checks were made, he steeled his nerve, he wasn’t about to back out now. “Juergen Kuczynski, do you
understand you will jump into enemy territory, that it is your role to
infiltrate a concentration camp, that your safety is not guaranteed? Do you
know if we find you have leaked our secrets to the enemy assassination will
soon follow?” “Yes Sir” “Do you understand the evacuation
times, and that if you don’t return via the latest evacuation you will be
presumed dead and your relatives will be informed?” “Yes Sir” “Then the best of luck to you. You jump in five…four…three…two…one…”
Now to find a concentration camp,
getting in wouldn’t be hard Juergen looked like he’d been sleeping rough for
weeks, not just a few days. Just as he arrived at what appeared to be a large
town, he saw some nazi officials seeing an opportunity, he crept behind them. “…organised for the… but…
tonight…soon? We’ll
ro…scum…alright! Take…quietly, don’t
alarm… check…churches… I h…they’re hi…there…” Not quite believing his luck Juergen
made his way to a church spire he could see amidst the roofs.
The footsteps were coming closer, long,
firm footsteps. Juergen’s heart raced,
but still the footsteps came slowly, as Juergan began to tense, not daring to
look back, the footsteps ceased.
Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, and before he knew what had
happened he was lying face up on the floor of the church. “You dirty Jewish vermin hiding in a
place of true worship, how many lashes does that warrant?!” “I’d say ten Commander, and add
another five for despoiling a holy place with his dirt.” “Right you are then; your turn to do
the honours Junior.” Juergen writhed with pain as the
whip thrashed against his back, but no sound escaped his lips, he wasn’t going
to give them that satisfaction.
It could have been days later or
merely hours when Juergen began to think again, he’d been bundled into a cart,
and as the houses changed to fields he began to grow weaker he’d had little to
eat or drink since he’d been shoved into the cart and it was beginning to
show. Some of the many prisoners had
already died, he began to think of their families, how they would not know what
had become of those poor innocent people.
As the thoughts of families lead him to think of his own father he
remembered how he had vowed he would not die, he smiled as he thought of the
man he had been back then, just over a month ago, as he thought those thoughts,
that man began to come back, the old fire began to roar again, he would not
die, he would protect his fatherland, and it was that memory that kept him
alive for the many months he would spend at the camp.
Five days before the first
evacuation trip he began to realise he had no clear idea where he was, or how
he would co-ordinate his breakout. Later
that day he felt that things weren’t quite right; his diary wasn’t quite where
it had been, it looked as though somebody had fingered through it, assuming
he’d misplaced it, he returned to thinking about the more pressing matter of
his escape. As he did his duties he
began to feel he was being watched, the hairs on the back of his neck began to
stand up, thinking it was just nerves he pushed it to the back of his mind, he
needed to think about his escape…
“Number 9005, number 9005 please
report to the Commander immediately!” Juergen
ground his teeth in frustration he’d missed the first evacuation and he had his
sights set on the second, he needed time to think not more beating. He dragged his feet as he walked into the
office making no eye contact for he knew it was considered rude and would only
lead to extra beatings. “Now look here son, now shut that
door… I made some mistakes in my life, I can see that, and reading through your
journal I can see I need to help you if I am ever to right my wrongs. Here’s my offer, I’ll get you out of here, if
you’ll get me refuge in “Yes sir, I thank you very kindly,
what day?” “A fortnight on Thursday, that’s the
only day I can do it, if you don’t shake then I’ll turn you in now, I can’t
have my secret regrets all over the camp it’ll be more than my life’s worth if the
Sergeant finds out,” knowing it was useless to disagree Juergen shook on it, it
was the day after the second evacuation; there would be only one chance, one
chance to get out of the fatherland, it was going to be tough…
The agreement was that the commander
would pull the fire alarm while Juergen ran for the only fault in the fence,
about 100 meters from the fault was a wood and that was our meeting point. I thought it all through as I ran through the
chaos; under the fence 100m to go…50m…25m…10m then he heard the shout! The
commander had been caught, he needed Juergen to help him, to go back and turn
himself in, say he had never helped him.
Juergen though for a moment before continuing to run, the commander was or
had been a nazi, he deserved to die!
The look on the Commander’s face
would haunt him forever, he was sure of that, but as he took train after train racing
to get to the evacuation point he knew he had made a mistake. There was nothing he could do now but move
on, the only way was on, on and back to
Twelve hours! Twelve hours till evacuation; he wasn’t going
to make it. The only way out now was into the Netherlands from there he could
hopefully get a boat to London, if he was going to get a boat back he would
need all his money, he would hike to the Dutch border which was about
twenty-five miles away. It would take
about ten hours in his weakened state.
He could do it. He would do
it. For his fathers sake he would return
home!
As he thought back to how close he
had come to dying on that long walk he was grateful he had made it over the Dutch
border before his strength failed, he had been saved by a Dutch woman who had
found British Intelligence documents and diary that had lain hidden for all of
his time in the camp. She had called her
local police and from there he had been saved.
As London appeared on the horizon Juergen knew British officials were
waiting to congratulate him on achieving what no other had ever achieved, the
infiltration and escape of a concentration camp, and somewhere, somewhere would
be his father; prouder than ever!
As the quay side came into view
there was a gloomy air to it, and where was his father, he should have been
there embarrassingly proud but there he wasn’t.
As Juergen stepped off the gangway a short but official looking man
walked towards him. Juergen realised it was the same man who had counted down
to his jump a staggering year ago, he looked grim; like he was about to report
someone’s death… “You remember I told you if you
weren’t on that last evacuation you would be presumed dead?... and that your
family would be notified…Juergen…when we told your Dad you were dead…well you
were all he had left… just hours after we broke the news… a suicide was
reported…Juergen your Dad… well he’s… dead…
© 2013 rae52Author's Note
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