When they came for the gypsies, I did not speak, for I am not a gypsy;

When they came for the Jews, I did not speak, because I wasn't a Jew;

When they came for the trade unionists, I did not speak, because I was not a trade unionist;

When they came for the Catholics, I did not speak, for I am not a Catholic;

And when they came for me, there was no one left to speak.

- Reverend Martin Niemöller

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There have always been collaborators with oppression. My father, may he rest in peace, survived four years in Auschwitz and saw this almost every day. Some people were ready to sell out their fellow prisoners for nothing more than a few cigarettes or an extra ration of bread. Others collaborated merely by turning a blind eye to atrocity. So it doesn't really surprise me that a civilization was willing to make a deal with the devil and sacrifice their own to the Wraith. What does surprise me is that they got away with it for so long.

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I was in the gateroom when Colonel Sheppard's team returned from M47-whatever-the-hell-they-were-calling-it. I didn't have anything else to do at the time, and these guys came in hurt so often that it paid to have at least one medical person standing by. We've seen them run through the gate, crawl through the gate, stumble though the gate, and be blown through the gate. Until today, though, we hadn't seen them coming through the gate looking like a Three Stooges routine. Sheppard was first, looking for all the world like he had taken a racing dive into a swimming pool. He landed gracefully and rolled out of the way of his incoming teammates.

Well, he tried to, anyway.

What actually happened was that Sheppard flew through the gate and landed in a belly flop in front of it. He tried to roll away, but was brought up short by an obviously swollen knee. A second later, he was followed by Teyla, an unfamiliar man, McKay, and Dex. Each cushioned the fall of the one behind, until they all lay in a groaning tangle of arms and legs that would have made Moe, Larry, and Curly proud.

That Canadian guy who replaced Grodin (I'm terrible with names) made a heroic effort not to burst out laughing, especially when his fellow countryman tried to simultaneously yell at Sheppard and Dex and whine about his bad back. Dr. Zelenka, who was overseeing a sensor upgrade, was not able to manage this feat. He laughed for two solid minutes before running out of breath, well on the way to a new record.

I simply clicked on my earpiece, figuring that this was something Carson would want to know about. He had just returned from hiding out after the involuntary smooch with Rodney, so he should be prepared to deal with any weirdness that came along. And it certainly looked like this was going to qualify.

"Aye? What's happening up there, lad?"

I couldn't quite hide a sigh as I replied, "Colonel Sheppard and his team have just dived through the gate. Not quite Olympic quality, but it looks like they were under fire at the time."

There was a pause on the other end and then, "I'm on my way up there with a team, although I'm not really sure I want to know the details."

Surprisingly, though, when we got everyone to the infirmary we found relatively little physical damage. Rodney and Teyla were fine, although the former carried on in his usual hypochondriacal fashion. I took a look at Ronan's arrow wound, but there were no fragments requiring surgical removal. All he ended up needing were antibiotics and a tetanus shot. We suspected a concussion in John in addition to the knee injury that he was rather close-lipped about, so he was the lucky winner of a one-night stay in our establishment. And Eldon, the little alien guy, was uninjured but badly malnourished. He would need a thorough medical history and physical exam once things quieted down a little.

So all in all, it was one of the lightest-casualty missions yet... if you only counted physical distress. Emotionally, all five of them looked traumatized. John, Teyla, and Rodney had haunted expressions on their faces the entire time they were being examined. Ronan, despite the nonchalant image he tried to project, radiated a quiet anger. Eldon just looked completely in shock. (I made a mental note to recommend that Kate Heightmeyer speak to him soon.)

At first, none of them were willing to talk about what they had seen. But later that evening, when everyone but John had left, Carson went over to his bed and sat down to talk. And although he can be brusque and plainspoken at times, he's got a fabulous bedside manner when necessary. From where I sat writing up my charts, I could hear Carson's gentle encouragement. And it eventually worked.

"So what's the story, lad? I've never seen all of you so subdued like this. Even Rodney was unusually quiet -- for him, at least."

"I've seen some totally whacked out societies, doc, but this one was the sickest of the lot. They fed their own to the Wraith." He shook his head. "They tried to justify it by only sending "the worst of the worst" to the island. But then the supply of truly evil criminals dwindled. By the time we crash landed, pretty much anything that the ruling government didn't like was grounds for turning someone into Wraithbait. The rest of the people either didn't know or didn't care what was going on."

Carson smiled sadly. "Aye, it does sound like a terrible thing. But it was going on for hundreds of years. It's amazing that you accomplished as much as you did by setting those people free."

"No, you're not getting it. Where do you think those Wraith ships went after we sent everyone on the island away? They went to the mainland to run wild. And while there were undoubtedly some innocent people on the island, there were a hell of a lot more of them on the mainland. It was a hell of a choice. Do nothing, let the Wraith cull the prisoners, and allow the vile cycle to continue. Or, let the prisoners go and have the Wraith cull the mainland. They'd get rid of the corrupt SOB's who ran the government but take countless others with them."

This might be something I could help with. I caught Carson's eye. "May I?" He nodded. I walked over and sat down on the bed opposite from John's. "You know, that society sounds like Nazi Germany in a way," I said. "You had a marginalized group that was rounded up and persecuted. At first it was justified by the government on the basis of "crimes" these people committed. Later, nobody even bothered to try to justify it. Do anything even remotely seditious, and you were labeled a "Jew" and disappeared." I swallowed, my mouth dry. "And the places these people were sent rivaled the Wraith in their cruelty. I heard my father's stories."

"Your father was in the camps?"

"Auschwitz. He was there from 1942-1945. And he was the only one from his family who survived. But the only people he really felt bitterness towards were the ordinary German citizens."

Carson was listening just as intently as John. I'd never told these things to anyone before and I certainly wasn't happy telling them now, particularly to my boss. John obviously needed to hear it, though, and Carson just watched us both in a nonjudgemental, compassionate way.

"Why?" John finally asked.

"Because they could have stopped it." Now my voice was harsh. "You really think that if the entire community repudiated what was being done in their name, the government could have survived? 'All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.' Edmund Burke."

"I think I see what you're getting at, then," Carson said thoughtfully. "You're saying that the average people of Olesia should have tried to stop what was going on."

"And because they didn't, it makes them almost as guilty. So, in spite of what you first said, I don't think there were 'a hell of a lot more' innocent people on the mainland." I suddenly felt very tired. "A few people say that Franklin Roosevelt knew about the atrocities in the concentration camps, but chose to bomb factories and railroads instead, supposedly to end the war more quickly and thus save more lives. Small consolation to those in the camps who died before being liberated. For whatever it's worth, I think you did the right thing today. Once the Wraith came through the gate, you couldn't do anything to save the society on the mainland. But at least you gave a few innocent people a chance."

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Somehow telling my father's story brought it home to me in a way that nothing had before. Perhaps it was seeing history's mistakes being reenacted by people not even from our own galaxy. Despite my words to John, I knew that there weren't truly any right decisions in situations like these. Knowing didn't make it any easier, of course, but that wasn't necessarily such a bad thing. Maybe remembering the pain of our choices would be an incentive to help others we meet in the future avoid ever having to face them.