I slide under the fence,
Run through the cold mud
Listening for his voice
Begging, pleading to God
That he will be alive.
His nine years of life do not deserve
To be cut off this short
Reinhardt, Reinhardt.
The soldiers try to stop my path
I shove them out of my way
'Bruno!' I scream,
Tears fall down my cheeks like waterfalls
Rain slicks my hair to my head
An alarm bell sounds in my mind
He'll be gone soon, hurry!
Reinhardt, Reinhardt.
I run through the open door
Stand in the doorway
Of the steel vault
Holding the cruelty
The scars of my people:
The stripe-clothed ones.
Reinhardt! Reinhardt!
I scan the sallow faces
I spot my brother's face
His hands around his friend
His imaginary friend who is
A real boy
A Jewish boy
Oh, Reinhardt, Reinhardt!
I envelope them in my arms
Sobbing into their shoulders
A thin skeleton to my right
A plump corpse to my left
Hands try to pull me away
I beat the soldiers off.
No! No!
'I'll be alright, Hannelore'
Reinhardt calls
'They'll keep us from the rain.'
'I love you, brother, and your friend too.'
'I am Polov' the skeleton calls.
'I love you both! Your mothers love you!'
I call, fearing the worst.
Never seeing either again.
I am pulled out of the vault
The door closes
An impenetrable wall
Between my brother and I.
Screams fill the gassed air behind the wall.
My fists echo on the metal door.
REINHARDT, REINHARDT!
Father races across the field
Through the gate
Through the wire fence
That divided our worlds
The divided my peaceful home
And this hell my brother is in.
But are we too late.
A woman stands behind me
'My son! Polov!'
She calls through the wall.
'I told him you love him.'
I reply, staring at the wall.
We both cry for our loved ones
Who we will never see or hear again.
The sounds inside are silenced.
All my hope is gone.
I throw back my head and scream.
'REINHARDT!'
'POLOV!'
My common woman screams.
Our families shattered.
I slam my fists into the guards.
'You let him die!' I scream.
'You let my brother die!'
They hold me back
From the pain and sadness
From my memories.
Oh, Reinhardt. Oh, Polov.
I stare at a soldier with tear streaked eyes
'Let me in.' I beg.
He lets me step in
Hands me a gas mask.
The simple protection
Reinhardt and Polov did not have.
Oh, my darling Reinhardt.
The steel door opens.
A portal to hell.
I step with mud-covered feet
Over the thin wire-framed corpses.
The yellow see-through skin,
The thin bones.
Ghosts of torture.
I find the boys on the stone floor
Hands still intertwined.
I am afraid to cry
For fear of ruining their memories.
I lift them up gently
Worried they will shatter in my hands.
Like shards of glass.
Like memories I have lost.
I take them to a shower
Wash off the poisonous gas.
Step out through the outside door.
Emotionless, shielding the onslaught
Of pain, sadness, and hatred
For these torturers.
For the men I once called my people.
I hand Polov to his mother
Undoing my brother's fingers
Breaking apart their last earthly link.
The woman sobs into the corpse
I gingerly remove the mask,
Put my face into my brother's skin
Crumple to the ground and sob.
Father touches my shoulder
I look up to his blurry face.
'He's dead.' I hiss.
'I will never speak to him again.'
I cry again, throw back my head and scream.
"NO!!"
Soldiers around me circle
Their trained masks break
At a young girl's pain
For her lost brother
They see a mother lose her son
A sister lose her brother
They silently cry.
I stand up on shaky legs
Turn to the mother.
'They will forever remain friends.'
I tell her. 'And we will remain common women
For the loss that we have shared.'
We nod goodbye, and turn away.
Remaining connected like our menfolk.
I walk through the camp
My brother's face on my shoulder.
Jewish folk see a German teen
Suffer the pain they have
Of losing family to the dreaded gas.
My heart goes out to these people
Different than I, but yet the same.
I turn to my father in anger.
'How can the Führer allow this?
All this death? All these corpses?
The broken families, the tortured people?
We are separated by religion,
But they are people as we are.
How can he let this happen?'
'It is his intention to cleanse
This country of impure blood.'
My father says,
Pain lining his deep voice.
Our hearts speak what our mouths cannot.
'How can we be proud of this country
Of that devil with what he has caused?'
My mother stands with my sister
On the other side of the fence.
They scream in anguish
As they see Reinhardt's crumpled form
Resting in my arms.
Tears flow freely down our faces.
Reinhardt, Reinhardt.
I look up and see two doves
Flying up to the sky
Connected by wingtips.
I smile at this sign.
'Reinhardt will rest in heaven.'
I say, marvelling at this sight
'Ignoring the dark events of this day.'
We bury Reinhardt in the garden
My heart sealed in his memory.
Polov rests in the land of the camp
On the other side of the fence.
I meet Polov's sister, Kirsten there.
We meet as our brothers did.
And Though walls divide us,
Hope unites us.
She looks like me, but sicker.
Her blond hair hangs listless and dirty
Her blue striped uniform hangs
Loosely on her thin body.
'I can't survive here any longer.'
She says. 'Neither can my family.'
I reply, 'By our brothers' memories
I promise I will set your family free.'
Under darkness, I pull Kirsten through
The hole under the boundary fence
Her parents follow
As does her little brother, Sören
We run through the forest
Into my house
As I risk my life for these people.
My family welcomes them
But we rush into our plan.
Kirsten's family goes to our bathroom
They strip and wash in our shower
I wash the striped uniforms
Fold them, and put them away
To keep a solemn memory
They dress and hide away
In a secret compartment
Under my floor.
They hand me armbands
With David's Star on it.
This goes in my baby trunk,
With Reinhardt's things, my things,
and the uniforms.
In the morning, they pack small bags
Kirsten protests as I give her
My travelling purse to carry
The clothes and gear she and Sören will need.
Sören gets Reinhardt's birthday clothes
And his shiny black boots.
Oh, Reinhardt, I hope I know
What I am doing.
We walk to the train station
Eva, Kirsten and I hold hands
Sören dances around our feet.
I pay for the tickets for their family
So they can go to Switzerland
To start a new life
To be free.
The train comes in one hour,
So I sit with Eva, Kirsten and Sören
I draw all four of us sitting here
Kirsten's plumper body
After a good breakfast
All four of us are smiling
Ready to separate.
I draw the adults
Solemnly exchanging news
And Jewish gossip.
I know Father will write a book
Telling of the horrors that we have seen.
Secretly, I hope one copy goes to the Fürher.
Just so he knows.
We hug as the train comes
Pulling into the station like a noisy chariot
'I bet our brothers are watching us right now.'
I tell Kirsten.
She smiles, and nods.
We hug one more time,
Tears of sadness and joy in our eyes.
The train pulls away from the station.
The four of us wave to the four inside.
Relief fills me
Knowing they will be safe.
'Godspeed,' I call.
Kirsten sticks her head out the window
'Godspeed,' she replies
Although we do not share the same god,
We can still be friends.
'I know now, Reinhardt.'
I whisper to the sky.
'We did the right thing.
And we did it for you and Polov.
They escaped the cruelty we saw.
God bless you, and Polov, and
His family, as they set off
To a new free life.
I love you, brother.'
Somewhere inside me
I feel as if Polov and Reinhardt
Are looking down at me
And the train
Smiling and laughing
And running towards the bright light
That is heaven.
