A/N: Hey guys, sorry it's been so long, but here is the new chapter of the story. I hope you're liking the story so far. Plz,plz,plz review. And thanks to everyone who reviewd so far.

Chapter 3

Because I was still rather young, I wasn't in the army during the first invasions. But I did take note of all that was happening. My family spoke of it all the time, of course they wanted to know what countries were now under the control of Hitler. My family; my grandparents especially, believed that these countries should belong to Germany. And they really liked the idea of Lebensraum, the belief that Germany was superior to other countries and should have more land. But Germany was being fair the land taken to begin with was German land to begin with, nobody had any real problems with it. The Nazi's were simply considered by many to be taken back what was rightfully Germany's. We were taught that the stronger country had the right to take the weaker one, and if you are being told this from a young age you do not question the logic behind the opinion or where the thought came from. When the leader of your country tells you this, you believe him, for the leader of your country is to be trusted and adhered to.

I cannot say without doubt that I never questioned what was happening internally in my own thoughts but I did not speak them aloud. Although perhaps I wondered if maybe people of certain religions or race were not as bad as we were told, in the end I saw the Nazi way of thinking to be accurate. It was all I knew.

Eventually, there was no choice but war. Hitler had invaded The Rhineland, Austria, Czechoslovakia and eventually Poland. Britain and France I know now had tried to appease Hitler, but after the invasion of Poland they declared war. Although the Hitler Youth still existed, myself along with most of the older boys took up military training. I had expected to fight in the war, and I admit that the thought scared me. I wanted to defend my country, and since the war started I had come to firmly believe that everything we had been taught was the truth. After all, if Germany had not been treated so unfairly to begin with this wouldn't have happened. The thing that scared me most was that my family seemed anxious for me to join the fight. They always told me how proud they were that I would be fighting to protect my country from those who wanted to suppress us. I was never sure how I felt about that, I wanted to defend my country too. But at the same time I was afraid of being involved in serious fighting. We may have been trained to be strong and tough but we all still have our internal fears and nothing can take those away. I was surprised that anyone would be anxious to see their only child go to a war that they very possibly would not come back from. German soldiers were dying in the war just like soldiers from every other country involved but that didn't seem to be a concern to them. And I wanted to make them proud, so I kept up my training. In the end, I was never called on to fight. But I was still a soldier. My job became one of working in the camps. I worked in many different camps. I was called to begin work in the first one two years into the war. It was one of the smaller camps, there were a couple of hundred people being held there. It was a work camp, the people were dirty and many were ill and we treated them badly. But they deserved it. Many of them were Jewish, in fact a large majority. We all knew that eventually they would most likely be moved to a different camp and it would be a death camp. The soldiers really considered this camp to be a holding camp. Sooner or later most of the people there would be moved and probably killed. Of course we knew that not all of them would be. But we also knew that some wouldn't die in death camps. Some would be here working until the end and some would die here of some illness or another in the work camp. But it was our job to be there and make sure they did the work demanded of them.

I was moved from camp to camp over the next year, each one was more gruesome than the last. Eventually I was moved to Melk, a newly established work camp. It had only been established about a month or so before I was posted there. By now it was June 1944. The work there was to construct a system of tunnels. These tunnels would later be used as munitions factories. We did not treat the prisoners well. Although some soldiers were much worse than others. The conditions were bad. There was overcrowding, dangerous working environment and this meant a high death rate. But this was not a worry of the soldiers. We were used to it, we worked in these camps for a long time and we saw these conditions every day. It was no concern to us. We didn't care about the people in the camps. All we knew was that they were beneath us, less than us. Their deaths were no bad thing. There was no one dominant race in the camp, but that wasn't important to us. All that was important was that we didn't care. And that included me. These people were nothing to me, what happened to them was not my problem or even something I cared about. At least, not to begin with.