Chapter 1

Hugo - Offenburg, Germany

A few days later: October 1, 1943

"I am Kommandant Oskar Kühnvogel. You all know you're here for several reasons, and those reasons are to kill all those disgusting Jews, satisfy der Führer in all his glory, and enlarge our empire. The French and English took what was rightfully ours and started this stupid war we will win no matter what the price. Do I make myself clear?" The Commander leaned uncomfortably close to my face.

"Y-yes sir," I stuttered.

"Wonderful, now, let's work on upper body strength."

"Yes sir!"

We walked to the flat grass and dirt ground. We all plopped on the ground and took the form of a push-up.

"Eins … zwei … drei …" the Kommandant counted.

One of the soldiers, who I would later learn his name as Eugene, only made it to a pathetic twenty-five push-ups. Many of the soldiers stopped around seventy-five or eighty.

"One hundred," Oskar called out.

My arms gave way and the bottom of my palms dug into the soil. I collapsed onto the ground, my chin stung in pain as it got slammed against the harsh dirt ground. Oskar's slim eyebrows were raised. He looked mildly impressed.

He then turned to the other soldiers and ordered us to practice on our core strength, reprimanding, "That's an order!"

I focused on doing planks with my comrades. They appeared to be like a wolf that had just found its next tasty meal. I prayed to God that I wouldn't be brainwashed by this camp. I could see the transformation of the soldiers already happening; and, to say it wasn't pleasant would be an understatement.

I looked to my left and said, "Guten Tag, what's your name?"

I found one of my comrades who, at the moment, was trying to maintain his now trembling form.

"Wolfgang von Frieden, but you can call me Wolfie if you want to. Yours?" His face was as red as a tomato.

"Hugo Goldberg, but please, call me Hugo."

"Well, Hugo, great job on your push-ups, how do you do it?"

"When my friends and I play Fußball, we have to do seventy-five push-ups every time we get a penalty."

"That's great! I love Fußball!"

"Thanks," I replied, "hey Wolfie, who do you want to win the war?"

"Me? The Allies, I guess. I don't want to follow Hitler's path. I would like to kill as few people as possible. One of my best friends happens to be Jewish, and I need to protect him. Could you please keep this between us? I wouldn't want anyone to catch wind of this and have me killed for 'high treason'."

"Deal."

The Kommandant then called for us to work on sit-ups. We stayed where we were, but got into the sit-up position, and worked more on our core muscles, which were now sore.

"Thank you, Hugo, but I still can't believe I chose an Arschloch like him to lead The Third Reich, had I known his plans, I wouldn't have supported him. So Hugo, what do you want to gain during this war?"

"I would just like to end the fighting and go back home to my brother. Please don't tell the Kommandant or I'll get killed for 'high treason'."

"Of course."

"Since we are now friends, can I tell you a secret?"

"Ja, I did tell you about my friend, so it's only fair."

"Will you tell anyone?"

"Not a single soul," Wolfie looked me dead in the eyes.

"Alright, I was born here, but my brother was born in France."

"Oh, ok . . . wait, was your father's name Otto Goldberg?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Your father and I were very good friends, so I will make sure to be on the lookout for your brother."

"Thank you so much, and I'll make sure to not kill any Jews."

"Danke, Hugo. It means a lot to me."

The Kommandant ordered us to go back to our cabins. I heard some of my comrades talking to each other in small groups about me doing one hundred push-ups. I ignored it and went to the Falcon's Nest, my assigned cabin. I shared my cabin with Wolfie, as I hoped.

I awoke the next morning to a bugle playing outside. The wind was great in my straight honey blonde hair as I dressed in my uniform.

Wolfgang greeted me by saying, "Morgen."

I greeted "Morgen," back to him.

The horror of the first day of real training had begun.

That bitter cold morning, Oskar shoved a wooden musket and a sharp dagger into our once innocent hands. He then pulled out a mannequin made of cardboard and a David's Star around its neck and demanded that we kill it using the weapons we had with us. Full of regret, I fired the musket and threw the dagger after carefully aiming it at the heart. The dummy was full of bullet holes ranging from where the hairline would be to where the toes would be and my dagger went to the forehead instead of the chest. The Kommandant told me my aim could use some work. Wolfie dismissed Oskar's remark, saying it was pretty good for my age. After all, I was only sixteen years old. Weapons were a whole new world for me, and the most I've encountered with one was seeing a hunting gun in one of my friend's houses. I've never held a weapon, much less used one. Today was the day to change that, I guess.

The same afternoon, we worked on throwing bombs, which were duplicated by baseballs. My throwing wasn't as good as everyone else. But, I still tried my hardest, hurling and chucking the baseballs over a 'border', which was just a narrow strip of white ribbon.

During the evening, the other soldiers had some mouthwatering bratwursts and a refreshing glass of classic German beer in the bar. I, on the other hand, had a bratwurst and a glassful of water instead of beer, because I didn't want to do anything I may regret the next morning.

I later returned to my cabin to get a good night's sleep when I found Wolfie at his bunk, with a small canvas bag on his bed, packing his clothes and personal belongings in it, along with a red wool scarf.

"What are you doing?" I walked over to where he was standing.

"Packing, we leave the next morning."

"We are? Where are we going?"

"The Kommandant never told you!? Well, in that case, we leave the next morning to go to Natzweiler to do some bombing, but don't worry. I'll make sure your brother stays safe."

"Vielen Dank, Wolfie. I'll make sure you stay safe, too."

"Danke, Hugo."

I packed what I needed inside of a large, tan, duffel bag, and climbed into my soft and squishy bunk for one last time. I might not come back to Germany or this town again. This is the first time I'll ever be in an actual war. I kept thinking about this scary yet true realization until I yawned and let sleep overtake me.

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of a bugle playing. I quickly put on my army uniform and packed the remaining items. When I caught up with the others. Oskar was going through the basics of flying and bombing with a German Messerschmitt Bf 109, after taking attendance, of course. When he was done clarifying, I jumped into one of the jets, number 33. Wolfgang took the one next to me, number 34.

I put on my headset and pressed the start button on the dashboard. The Messerschmitt Bf 109 thundered with eager glee. I secretly hoped we would lose. I can't imagine what horrors would happen if we won. I drove across the runway and got off the ground and into the bright, blue sky. In a few moments of gentle inclination, the wondrous white clouds were below me. Wolfie's plane eased up next to me after about thirty seconds.

I hope Peter's doing alright.