One day as we were running we once again heard the familiar sound of gunfire. I have no idea where we were, but I did know this. We were running out of cover. Stefan and I started to run in an easterly direction, I think. Unfortunatley we ran right into a group of German soldiers. I have no idea what happened next because one of the German soldiers hit me on the head and knocked me out. When I next woke up I was lying on the floor of a moving train. When I looked around all I could see was completely petrified people. But not one of those faces was Stefan's. I looked around the cart, just incase, but there was absolutely no sign of him.
At that moment someone tapped me on the shoulder and said "If you want any chance of living come over here."
I turned, not expecting Stefan because the man had a strong German accent, to see an elderly looking man. I followed him as he told me who he was.
"Sorry for scaring you like that but it looked as though you were a little lost. My name is Paul Sinnhuber. Now, what is your name and where are you from?"
"My name is Emily Bekowsky and I'm from Warsaw, Poland. Please tell me if you've seen my brother, Stefan."
He looked down at me and there was no sign of hope for my brother.
"I'm sorry, but no. I have not heard that name. You were thrown onto this train alone. Who is he?"
"He is," I said hoping it was still true, "My older brother. I think he is the only family I have left now."
He heaved a huge sigh and said, "I am terribly sorry for your loss. I do hope you find him.
I could tell he meant well, but one man's sympathy could never replace the loss that had just set into my heart. I don't know how, but somehow I managed to keep the tears of pain in my eyes, so not one single tear would run down my face.
"I am sorry, but I need you to remember a few things. I have no idea if we will be separated when we stop, which I have no idea either. Do you think you can remember what I am about to tell you?"
I nodded, knowing that if I tried to respond nothing would come out, except for the bitter tears I was trying to hold back.
"Firstly, if they ask you where you are from answer Vienna. If you answer Warsaw they will shoot you right there on the spot. Poland was the first country they invaded and for some reason they hate the poles. Secondly, try to act like a man. They will most likely kill you faster if you are a women. Thirdly, and most important of all, don't give up hope. No matter what happens, no matter what you go through do not give up. Keep on fighting until you can no longer stand. Now, do you have all that?"
I nodded my head and trying to hold back the tears, "Don't say anything like Poland, act like a man, and never give up."
He smiled down at me, just like my own father might of if he had been there. That happiness was short lived because just after I recited the word "up" the train stopped and the door opened. A man in a grey, military, uniform with some kind of black symbol his arm bored.
"Last names M-Z off the train. If anyone else gets off I will shoot you." He had a strong German accent and, certain enough, a small revolver of some kind on his side.
"Well, I guess this is where we part. Remember what I told you. You'll see your brother again," Paul said smiling at me.
But as he got off the train I knew I would never see that broad smile from him ever again.