Brace yourselves. I personally find this chapter emotionaly intense. It's heartbreaking because it is real.

Warning: AU –Second World War

M-Rated!Contains coarse language, violent imaginary related to the context of war, and sex.

I do not own South Park. I do not own anything. I wish I was that f* genius!

A large army of soldiers started moving before the first daylight broke. They moved southeast, Dachau being their destination. They were focused in winning more ground from the Germans. For the soldiers it was just another day's work. Nobody suspected what was hidden in Dachau. Nobody ever dreamed about the horrors that took place there. Because none of these soldiers had ever heard about concentration camps.

They arrived around 11 o'clock in the morning. The soldiers were divided in several groups so they would enter the camp from different directions. Private Gentry's group entered through the railway. He carefully calculated it was about 10 meters between the train he was hidden behind and the gate to enter the camp. It was only when he looked to side that he saw for the first time in his life, literally, hundreds of bodies. He stared at the gruesome display, silenced and petrified from shock. These people had been shot and were spilled out of the boxcar as if somebody had taken it and just turned it over to pour the people out onto the side of the tracks. Some of the bodies were still in the train, some were hanging out over the tops of the piles of people outside. His heart beat faster and his insides turned when he realized these people weren't soldiers.

Private Gentry was used seeing bodies, both American and German soldiers who had been killed during the war battles, but he never had seen anything like this before. These people, dressed in blue and white striped clothes, had their heads as their largest body part, so extremely skinny they were. Their eyes were all sunken back, they were ashen white, almost a blue color. Their ribs would protrude, their arms were the size of broomsticks, legs the same. He felt tremors and chills run down his body. He switched nervous glances with his comrades. They were as shocked and confused as he was. Nobody had any idea who these people were.

Private Gentry shot his head when he heard his leader's voice shouting a command. Lieutenant Colonel Cowling, who was gesturing the soldiers to follow him, looked horribly pale. He too probably had never seen such a sight like this before. They stormed into the camp. Screams and shots were heard everywhere. Nothing new for Private Gentry and his comrades. The images of the corpses they saw just moments ago were quickly forgotten, as their minds had to concentrate in the battle, for their own survival. The soldiers pointed their guns at any Nazi they encountered. There was little resistance and they surrendered easily, going down on their knees with their hands behind their heads. The SS-officers were outnumbered, after all.

They continued exploring the different areas of the camp. Private Gentry followed Lieutenant Colonel Cowlings to a trail that led them to the main part of the camp, to the wooden barracks. The world here was strangely silent, the only sound being produced was the one of their heavy boots crushing the cold ground. They stopped and Lieutenant Colonel Cowlings studied the wooden barracks. It was surrounded by a 5 meter wide moat through which a torrent of water circulated. Atop was a 3 meter fence charged barbed wire. The silence was heavy and unnatural. Private Gentry instinctively held his breath, like if the sound of his breathing would disturb this strange silence. He watched his leader slip the lock in the main gate, stand up and check the surroundings one last time. Still, no sign of life inside this area. Lieutenant Colonel Cowling looked around for a few seconds and then a tremendous human cry roared forth.

A flood of people poured across the flat yard. It had happened so quickly that Lieutenant Colonel Cowling had had no time to react. Before he and his men knew it, he was surrounded by an enormous mob. Suddenly, he was hoisted to the shoulders of the loud crowd. Only then did he and his men realize these people were happy and were cheering the Americans in their multiple native tongues. Private Gentry couldn't make out a word they were saying, but the sound of pure joy was unmistakable. It was universal. He knew they were cheering words of sheer happiness.

It took a long while before the international mob would release Lieutenant Colonel Cowling and would stop with the ecstatic cheering to finally calm down. Private Gentry and his comrades were perplexed, still having no idea who these people were and what they were doing here. It was only when the enormous mass of men and women finally calmed down, did he see their faces properly and felt all the blood go down his face. His stomach revolved at these people's skeletal appearance. This sea of faces. Every one of them looked like living corpses. They were only skins and bones. They clearly had suffered long periods of extreme hunger. Although they smiled, their white ghostly faces screamed out agony and terror. The countless men and women were dressed in the same striped outfit he saw earlier by the railway. Private Gentry was truly shocked. His heart sped up in anger and revolt, while his insides turned from disgust. He had witnessed horrible things in this war. He had run under the danger of bullets and explosions. He had seen young comrades die from terrible wounds, others from infections and diseases. He had seen the haunted faces of civilians who were abused by German and Italian soldiers. But never in his life did he think he would ever see something as gruesome as this.

"Monsters." Private Gentry heard his comrade next to him whisper in a shaky voice. He stood next to him, his face paled, his eyes shining from bitter shock. "How can people to this to each other? These Nazis are real monsters!"

Private Gentry found himself involuntarily making the sign of the cross. He was a religious man. He believed in God. He believed in good, love and compassion. But this war made him believe in the Devil too. He believed there was a great evil that lured in the world. He was convinced now, as he watched the many, many haunted faces, evil had incarnated in the form of Hitler, just like good had once incarnated in the form of Jesus. He believed the Devil had the power to germinate mad cruelty in men's souls. Because today he was sure he had stepped into Hell and saw what evil did to people. And for the first time, he wondered if this war was more than just a battle between the Allies and the Axis. For the first time, he wondered if this was in truth a battle between good and evil, between God and the Devil. And he was glad good had won the war. He only wished it had won earlier.

The soldiers released the prisoners. If the crowd was moments ago cheering madly of pure happiness, now their joy seemed to die away. Everybody fell silent. Private Gentry had expected, once they were released from this horrible prison, they would continue making a lot of screaming and yelling and jubilating. But no. It was nothing like this. Instead, their ecstatic overjoy was quickly replaced by the surreal realization that it was all over. All the suffering was over. No more torture, no more fear. The prisoners were blank faced, they were stunned as they exited the prison area, surely not believing this was actually happening. That all their prayers had been finally heard. Even after they had lost all hope. Private Gentry watched as they stepped out of the prison area, walked to the nearest soldier and hug him.

"Don't let them kiss you on the mouth." He heard somebody's voice say and suddenly Private Gentry realized these people had diseases, like the typhus fever.

He was overwhelmed when some prisoners would fall down to his knees and hug him around the legs. They kissed his legs and boots. He had to fight the knot in his throat, fight back the tears that threatened to spill. Monsters. His comrade's voice echoed in his head. These Nazis are real monsters. He wished he knew German so he could understand what the prisoners were saying. But then he realized some of them were not German. They uttered words in foreign languages. Russian, Polish, French, Czech and German. Languages he didn't know, didn't understand. All he knew was that they were extremely grateful to be released.

They worked their way through the camp. It was a pitiful sight watching these skeletal people wander on the barren ground. It was a silent and mournful march to the area with sad grey buildings. Then suddenly something happened. The mob of prisoners saw a SS-officer running from one building to the other. He was clearly seeking a place to hide. He was desperatly and cowardly trying to save his own skin. The German guard stopped in his tracks when he saw the prisoners. He paled when he saw thousands and thousands of accusing, revolted angry faces staring back at him. He stood frozen for a moment. And then his body flinched as he made a run. This was the moment the mob of prisoners was possessed by a maddened fury. A loud clamor full of sheer anger and hatred filled the air, while they chased the solitary Nazi.

From that moment on, chaos installed itself in Dachau. Prisoners attacked SS-guards. There were dozens of hands pulling and pushing, hitting and strangling isolated Nazis. The SS-officers were running in all directions but had no possible escape. Revenge was in the air. Days, weeks, months and perhaps even years of torture, of injustice, of fear had dominated these men and women. But today they were free. Today the persecuted became the pursuers. All the pain, all the hurt, all the despair, all the misery came out in the form of crude fury. Madness had taken over the prisoners' minds and there was no way the SS-officers could ever escape such rage. There were scared screams and pleas. There were screams of anger and lusty revenge. There were tears and there was blood. Private Gentry, fuelled by the same rage as the Jews, shot a Nazi when he threw himself on his knees in surrender. Private Gentry could feel the tears run down his face. He could feel his arms tremble, his hands shake uncontrollably. The faces of the dead were haunting him. The faces of the living were haunting him. The cruelty of evil's work was haunting him.

Private Gentry was a religious man. He believed in God. He believed in good, love and compassion. But today he was in Hell and he was facing the allies of the Devil. Monsters. Evil disguised in the form of men. And so he shot without blinking, each and every SS-officer that appeared in front of him. He shot them mercilessly, filling their bodies with bullets, staining the floor with their blood. Because these men weren't human. Only monsters can make such atrocities to others. Only evil had this kind of power. And evil had to die. Today. Right now.

The German guards that had stayed in camp Dachau, well, none of them ever left it. They were all were killed, either by the American soldiers, or by the prisoners themselves. None of them ever left that camp once the Allies entered it.*

…

Evening had fallen. The sky was slowly darkening. It was colored by a beautiful mixture of golden, pink and purple shades that reflected in large fluffy clouds. Private Gentry was lost in this beautiful sky, its shades and lights calming his turbulent soul. It had been an exhausting day. Never had he lived such intense feelings as today. Such indescribable feelings of sheer hate, of desire to kill and hurt others for justice, to avenge innocent nameless faces. Today he had behaved like a beast, like a blood-thirsty animal. A part of him felt guilty and disgusted by his barbarous actions. A part of him felt relieve, felt like the sickening revenge had made some justice to the countless innocents that died in the hands of the Nazi.

His thoughts went to the bodies he saw earlier by the railway. Their glazed eyes. His thoughts went to the 32,000 men and women they found in the barracks. Those dead faces still breathing. Today he witnessed the sickened tortures they had to endure. It was impossible to not feel compassion for these poor people. It was impossible not to feel revolted and infuriated by this great injustice. He felt a wave of pain and anger sweep over his body and install itself in his heart. He did not know these people. They were perfect strangers to him. But it was the notion they were once people like him, like his brothers and sister, like his mother and father, like his friends and neighbors; condemned to be tortured till death. And because of what? Because of one man's madness? Because of one sick ideology? No human being deserves to live and die in such a horrible way. What had these people done to deserve such an awful fate? How was it possible that God allowed the Nazis to commit such atrocities? No human being should ever suffer this way. They were innocent. Their only crime was being different, not fulfilling the Nazi's ideology's standards.

He looked around with a concerned expression. There were so many of them. 32,000 men and women. Starving, sick and weakened. And still dying. But many more would still die. He unhappily understood the inevitable. These people could not stay in the camp. There was simply not enough food to feed them all. Not enough blankets, not enough medicine. Because they came unprepared for this. They had no idea today they would enter a camp and liberate thousands and thousands of people. It would take ages to receive supplies. In this famished poor Europe, with barren lands after a severe winter, provisions would have to come from over the Atlantic. It would take weeks before they would reach Dachau. And these people could not wait this long. The reason why General Dwight D. Eisenhower was already appointing groups of soldiers to escort the prisoners, most of them Jews, to Munich. He had already volunteered and awaited further orders. It worried him that the city lays 16 kilometers from the camp and, there weren't enough trucks to transport the weakened men and women. Most of them would have to go on foot, walk miles and miles to reach civilization. Many would die in the way. He sighed at the irony of life. They were finally freed from the Nazis, but they weren't free from Death.

As for now, soldiers did their best to feed the prisoners. They did their best to take care of those suffering from typhus. For now they had to bury the hundreds and hundreds of decaying bodies and avoid the spreading of diseases. Private Gentry sighed exhausted, consumed by this sorrowful reality. But he was distracted from his thoughts when he saw a movement that he caught in the corner of his eye.

He turned around and stood immobile for a while, staring at the figure of a young man walking in his direction. The first thing that called his attention was his hair, auburn curls with red reflexes under the setting sun. He was dressed in a simple white long sleeved shirt and brown trousers. On one hand was a small brown briefcase. On the other, what could only be an instrument case. As he came closer, Private Gentry could make out his face. His heart sunk when he saw such tortured features in such a young face. He was pale like a ghost with dark bangs under the eyes. Although he was not as skinny as the rest of the prisoners, he was clearly under a desirable and healthy weight. The redhead walked steadily and stopped firmly opposite him. Private Gentry could now see he was still very young. He wouldn't give more than 17 or 18 years to this boy. But his eyes looked too old and wise for such a young face. Although the boy was almost expressionless, he could see he was in agony, suffering internally. The boy looked at him and then presented him the briefcase.

"Das ist die Liste aller, die in Dachau untergekommen sind.**." The boy said in a shaky voice. The soldier looked lost at him. He didn't understand a word the teenager had said. "Hier sind die Toteneinträge.**." The boy solemnly spoke, his eyes translating the pain of his soul.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't understand German." Private Gentry said. The boy's eyes widened a bit and the pain in them seemed to increase.

"Tzead Juden." He slowly said, realizing the soldier spoke English. He pushed the briefcase on Private Gentry's hands. "Naames of Juden in Dachau… Registerr." The boy said in a broken English and the soldier, understanding his words accepted the briefcase. He opened it and looked inside. There were about thirty files and he took one out. He opened it and gasped when he turned page after page, filled with handwritten long lists of names and dates.

"These people are all…dead?" He asked shocked and the boy nodded. His green eyes were in the brink of tears. "How did you get these registers? Where?" He slowly asked, hoping the boy could understand his words. Apparently the teenager understood better English than he could speak and pointed to the large building in the far background.

"Herr Cartman." The red-haired boy said in a choke when he said the name and did an enormous effort not to cry. The soldier became worried and wondered what kind of torture this Nazi had done to the boy. "SS. Monster von Dachau. I… buchhalter … schreiben, eh...wrrite in registerr."

"You were his bookkeeper!" The soldier gasped in understanding and the boy nodded in a sad smile. Private Gendry put back the file in the briefcase and gestured to the boy's left arm. "May I?" The teenager hesitated but consented. The soldier lifted the sleeve a bit, enough to see the ink under the boy's skin, where a number was imprinted. "Are you a Jew?"

"Juden. Yes. Kyle Broflovski." The boy confirmed.

"Kyle, please come with me."

A/N

Kyle is already 19th years-old, he just looks younger, mainly due to his small frame.

Dachau concentration camp was liberated in the 29th April 1945, by the U.S. 7th Army. The allies came to free the camp on the morning. They encountered 32,000 men and women packed up in the wooden barracks, from which 25,000 were Jews. Chaos ruled the day. Shots were heard. Germans arrested. Infuriated Jews who had the chance murdered guards with their bare hands. By lunch time the American soldiers had arrested more than 350 SS officers but at least 40 guards were murdered by revolted Jews. The Allies, by witnessing the terror of the camp, crossing many dead bodies; by witnessing the horrible tortures that took place in this camp, showed no mercy to the 560 German officers that were still in the camp. One by one, each and every German soldier was killed. Cold blooded executed. Just like they had executed countless innocent Jews.

* The first part of the chapter (till the *) is based in the eye-witness account of Jimmy Gentry of Franklin (Tennessee). He was a soldier with the 42nd Rainbow Division. He gave an interview with G. Petrone and M. Skinner on 25 February 2000, and recalled what it was like on the day that Dachau was liberated. My text is an adaptation of his account. For instance I wrote it in the third person instead of the first (as used in the interview) and added thoughts and feelings (I tried to imagine how it should have been for a soldier to experience such a thing). Some parts, though, are literally his words. Also the mentioned Lieutenant and General are real and truly found themselves in the context I described in this chapter. I decided to use real personsfor this chapter, because I wanted to write an accurate and loyal description of this historic moment. Also I wanted it to sound more real, avoiding exaggerations or making it all sound sloppy, overdramatic or cliché.

Here is the interview with Private Gentry:

2013/05/28/a-detailed-analysis-of-jimmy-gentrys-claim-that-he-was-one-of-the-liberators-of-dachau-on-april-29-1945/

** Das ist die Liste aller, die in Dachau untergekommen sind. = (German) These are the registers from everyone that entered in Dachau.

** Hier sind die Toteneinträge. = (German) In these are the deaths registries.

A Big thank you to Random German (Guest) - for helping me out with the German dialogue!. As for your question...who knows? He is after all well-known in the Nazi sphere in this AU Fanfic...