Post by Cpl. Joe Claude on Apr 15, 2011 18:19:13 GMT
OOC - Staff people, I know that this is after the war, but it is within a matter of weeks afterwards and it is going to tie up loose ends if that's alright?
It was over. Finally, this nasty war had come to end and Joe had survived. He had been in one of the Nazi Concentration Camps for the last few months but the Allies had broken through and they’d been liberated. He had spent the last few weeks being rehabilitated along with other Jews by the Allies. He’d been near to death but they’d saved him – it was bizarre. The unit that had liberated the camp had been an American one, Joe (who had served as an American soldier – a corporal – before all the disaster that had befallen him), had made it known to the soldiers that he had been one of them and they had saluted him...they hadn’t asked questions or anything like that....he was just one of the millions of Jews found in those ghastly places.
But he was back. He had survived and was making the long journey home. This war had taken its toil on the man. He’d seen some fighting, but the bulk of the war had been in German occupied Germany and he’d come out alive – a small miracle by many standards. One day, the idea of writing a book on his experiences had flittered in and out of his mind over the last few days, but that was to come, he just wanted to get home now.
He’d arrived in Dover, still slightly thin and frail but well enough to keep his spirits up and wits about him. He had left the dreaded camp a week earlier. He would vow never to see the place again. Ever. He’d never forget that place; he’d never forget the things he had seen there. Not only that, but he would never forget the people he’d met inside and outside of the labour camp. He had heard reports that Erhard Strumfelder was dead, committed suicide some people had said, others thought he’d been assassinated by his own men – the scars on Joe’s face would remain forever as a reminder - he had no idea where Otto Wolff was, or his wife – were they still alive? Were they still in Berlin? Otto had been the one who’d sent him to the camp....and then the girl. Adelheid had been so sweet, so kind, and so innocent and he’d betrayed her. Told of her history to Otto and....and he hadn’t seen her since. He wondered if she was dead, killed by Strumfelder perhaps?
But now, now he was to go home.
He’d been told by the army officials at Dover, that he was being sent to Wales and then from Wales to New York. He did not know why but that was what he’d been told. He was told that in Wales, he should report to an army base there, to be recognised, papers filled out, history taken etc, etc. His parents would be notified that he was alive and well....as well as he could be from his ordeals.
So now he was on a train, making his way through the English countryside to Wales. As he passed through towns and villages, he saw the places still had the effects of war on them. It was a dreadful and horrible thought to think that this little island had been so badly damaged. He wanted to know how his own country, America, was doing....but no-one really knew the full details. Finally, after several train transfers, he arrived in Wales, in a small town with a station that Joe did not know the name of. He got off the train and looked around in the bright sunlight, flags everywhere – Welsh and English flags and “V” for Victory posters everywhere. He did not know where to go, he was lost again. A woman at the station office looked up at him as he approached; she gave a double take as many did when she saw the scars and the thinness of his face even now. ”Hello m’am, I am wondering if you could tell me the way to the Army base here?” he said, his face blank and expressionless. She nodded and told him so; along the street was where the offices were located. He nodded at her and hobbled away. Compared to the majority of the inmates in the camp, Joe was quite fit still as he hadn’t been there long but he was still not up to eating much.
He walked away from the station and along the street where she’d told him, his face turned away from the happy, smiling, cheering people that seemed to suddenly appear all around him.
It was over. Finally, this nasty war had come to end and Joe had survived. He had been in one of the Nazi Concentration Camps for the last few months but the Allies had broken through and they’d been liberated. He had spent the last few weeks being rehabilitated along with other Jews by the Allies. He’d been near to death but they’d saved him – it was bizarre. The unit that had liberated the camp had been an American one, Joe (who had served as an American soldier – a corporal – before all the disaster that had befallen him), had made it known to the soldiers that he had been one of them and they had saluted him...they hadn’t asked questions or anything like that....he was just one of the millions of Jews found in those ghastly places.
But he was back. He had survived and was making the long journey home. This war had taken its toil on the man. He’d seen some fighting, but the bulk of the war had been in German occupied Germany and he’d come out alive – a small miracle by many standards. One day, the idea of writing a book on his experiences had flittered in and out of his mind over the last few days, but that was to come, he just wanted to get home now.
He’d arrived in Dover, still slightly thin and frail but well enough to keep his spirits up and wits about him. He had left the dreaded camp a week earlier. He would vow never to see the place again. Ever. He’d never forget that place; he’d never forget the things he had seen there. Not only that, but he would never forget the people he’d met inside and outside of the labour camp. He had heard reports that Erhard Strumfelder was dead, committed suicide some people had said, others thought he’d been assassinated by his own men – the scars on Joe’s face would remain forever as a reminder - he had no idea where Otto Wolff was, or his wife – were they still alive? Were they still in Berlin? Otto had been the one who’d sent him to the camp....and then the girl. Adelheid had been so sweet, so kind, and so innocent and he’d betrayed her. Told of her history to Otto and....and he hadn’t seen her since. He wondered if she was dead, killed by Strumfelder perhaps?
But now, now he was to go home.
He’d been told by the army officials at Dover, that he was being sent to Wales and then from Wales to New York. He did not know why but that was what he’d been told. He was told that in Wales, he should report to an army base there, to be recognised, papers filled out, history taken etc, etc. His parents would be notified that he was alive and well....as well as he could be from his ordeals.
So now he was on a train, making his way through the English countryside to Wales. As he passed through towns and villages, he saw the places still had the effects of war on them. It was a dreadful and horrible thought to think that this little island had been so badly damaged. He wanted to know how his own country, America, was doing....but no-one really knew the full details. Finally, after several train transfers, he arrived in Wales, in a small town with a station that Joe did not know the name of. He got off the train and looked around in the bright sunlight, flags everywhere – Welsh and English flags and “V” for Victory posters everywhere. He did not know where to go, he was lost again. A woman at the station office looked up at him as he approached; she gave a double take as many did when she saw the scars and the thinness of his face even now. ”Hello m’am, I am wondering if you could tell me the way to the Army base here?” he said, his face blank and expressionless. She nodded and told him so; along the street was where the offices were located. He nodded at her and hobbled away. Compared to the majority of the inmates in the camp, Joe was quite fit still as he hadn’t been there long but he was still not up to eating much.
He walked away from the station and along the street where she’d told him, his face turned away from the happy, smiling, cheering people that seemed to suddenly appear all around him.