Disclaimer: I do not own Eliezer, or Elizer's father, or the book Night. Technically, I own Kris, and I know I own Louise.

Schadenfreude

Louise sighed as she grabbed the extra bandages from her first aid kit. There were about 50 meters of extra wrapping in the case, and for very good reason. As she slipped into her officer shirt, she looked in the mirror. Her long blonde hair had been cut short to just above her ear and her icy blue eyes could frighten even the bravest of men.

Louise really hated wrapping her chest, but it was the only way she could pass of as a male. It wasn't as if girls weren't allowed to be Nazis, but Louise didn't want to be a nurse. She wanted to fight, and be like any other soldier. As a child, Louise had disliked dolls and frilly dresses with much intensity. She kept a set of boy's clothes hidden in her room and when she was alone, she would escape the confines of the dress and go out to play as a boy. Most females did not get a big fighting role. They became nurses and helped the doctors get rid of bodies. When the time came to recruit German soldiers, 18 year old Louise Fuchs had signed up as Louis Engel, an eager boy who wished to fight on the battlefield. Instead however, Louise had been sent to Buchenwald concentration camp.

"Hey, Louis," a voice called, accompanied by several thuds on the door, "Beeilen Sie sich!(1)I need to pee!" Louise snatched the first aid kit, checked her appearance, and opened the door.

"Pleasant," she sneered. "Announce it to the whole world, won't you?" In front of her, her roommate Kris Reinhardt was hopping from one foot to the other. She glared as he pushed past her and slammed the door closed. After the sound of flushing and the sink, Kris emerged, wiping his hands on a towel.

"What do you do in there Louis? You take half an hour just to get ready!" Kris asked, throwing the cloth in the laundry hamper.

"The scar's acting up again," Louise lied smoothly, placing the case under her bunk, "I have to rewrap it every day."

"Oh, Okay then," Kris shrugged, accepting the answer. Louise didn't miss the sideways glance he gave her. It was well known in Buchenwald that 'Louis' had a scar across his chest that he got from his father. He didn't like to show it to anyone, and was very self conscious about it.

Taking a quick look at the clock as she got her backpack on, Louise noticed the time. "Scheißen Sie! (2)" She swore, grabbed her gun, threw Kris his, and ran out the door, heading for the gates of the camp.

Louise and Kris arrived just in time for roll call.

"Engle! Reinhardt!" the burly officer called.

"Hier! (3)" the two called, trying to catch their breath.

"You two will be assisting in getting the new Jewish trash into the bunks. Bekam es? (4)"

"Yes, sir!" Louise called, and marched off with Kris to the loudspeakers. As the dozen or so people got off the train, Louise felt a pang in her heart. These people were starved and bruised, barely hanging on to life. "Form fives!" she called into the loudspeaker, as Kris yelled, "Form groups of a hundred!" She punched him in the arm.

"There aren't enough prisoners for that, Sie Verzögern! (5) Five paces forward!" Louise watched as she spotted a young man, a few years younger than her, 15, maybe, support what seemed to be his father. The older man was stumbling across the snow, and seemed to want to rest. Still calling out orders, she kept her eyes on the two Jews until the lights went out and an alarm sounded.

Louise really didn't hate Jews, but it wasn't as if she really liked them, either. She simply pitied them. No person, pure or dirty, deserved to be treated like the Jewish were. She didn't know how the others were amused by their suffering. But that boy, his eyes were dead, yet there was a glimmer of hope, deep in his soul. The girl-turned-boy blinked sadly and hoped, truly hoped, that he would live through this experience.

--Time Lapse--

A week and a half later, Louise stared at the boy from the corner of her eye. She had stood in his block for awhile now, and as he sat there, she approached him. His head rose to look at her, his eyes unfocused. He was so delirious; he probably thought Louis was the head of the block or something.

"This is your father, isn't it?" She asked softly.

"Yes," he replied, his voice hoarse and dead.

"He's very ill." Louise pointed out. 'Stupid,' she thought. 'He already knows his father is suffering from dysentery.'

"The doctor won't do anything for him," the boy added sadly, looking back on his father.

"The doctor can't do anything for him, now. And neither can you." Louise admitted, placing her hand on his shoulder. She knew the father would not survive, but the boy- the boy could be saved.

"Listen to me, boy. Don't forget that you're in a concentration camp. Here, every man has to fight for himself and not think of anyone else. Even of his father. Here, there are no fathers, no brothers, no friends. Everyone lives and dies for himself alone. I'll give you a sound piece of advice- don't give your ration of bread and soup to your old father. There's nothing you can do for him. And you're killing yourself. Instead you ought to be having his ration."

He listened without speaking, and for a split-second, considered it. Louise knew it was harsh, what she was saying, but the father had no hope, she could tell. She walked away before Kris came in and passed by the beds, doing his rounds.

Then, she heard a rasping voice, hardly a whisper, but it broke the silence. "My son, some water…I'm burning…My stomach…" it was the boy's dying father.

"Quiet, over there!" Kris yelled, annoyed the man was speaking.

"Eliezer," the old man continued, "some water…" Eliezer. So that was the boy's name. Well, Eliezer will pull through, she thought.

"Verschlossen, Sie altes Blässhuhn!(6)" Kris screamed, storming up to the father. Boy was he touchy today. Unfortunately, the man kept calling Eliezer. Kris hit the father violently with his truncheon. Neither Eliezer nor Louise moved.

"Eliezer…" the man rasped. His breathing was uneven and spasmodic. His skull seemed crushed and he was bleeding heavily. Louise and Kris left after that, but the picture was still embedded in her brain. Kris simply laughed when he thought back at the pain he caused.

The man was taken to the crematorium the next morning, before dawn. Louise watched as his body was carried out with little care. 'Can't they have respect for the dead?' she thought, but obviously, they couldn't even give that honor. Louise thought, and started a plan of action. The American forces were advancing quickly, she heard. When all the others had fled, she would walk straight up to the enemy and guide them to Buchenwald. She would not be cruel to any person; she wouldn't laugh as they were hurt. Schadenfreude: Happiness at the misfortune of others. It was a thought and a feeling that went through all the other soldiers' minds. It made her sick.

--

Here are the meanings of the German phrases.

1 Hurry up!

2 Crap!

3 Present!

4 Got it?

5 You retard!

6 Shut up, you old coot!