"The day of individual happiness has passed." – Adolf Hitler
I awoke. I wish I could say what I had experienced was reality. But, the truth was, it was just a dream. My one reoccurring dream, the last time I spend time with Adolf Hitler, mein Vati.
It was June 5th, 1944. I sat in my father's car as I waited for him to finish and conversation with some other authority. I sat in the back seat, picking at my nails. "Oh mein Gott…" I whispered quietly. I looked at the driver and opened the door. I slid on a nearby coat.
The driver turned around. "Hannelore, where do you think you're going?" He asked me.
"I am almost twenty goddamn years old. I am going wherever the hell I want!" I shouted, slamming the door behind me. I crossed my arm and stomped down the street. I started to get strange looks from people. I stopped in front of a shop, marked Jude, and looked at my reflection. My hair was alright, nothing in my teeth. Something did catch my eye, though. My coat. I had accidently slipped on my father's coat. I became flustered and tore off the coat and slammed it to the ground. I walked into the rather large story and looked for the cashier. She saw me, her Star of David sticking out like a sore thumb, and tried to hide.
"Wait!" I yelled, speeding up my pace to catch her.
"Was?" she asked, quietly.
"Hitler, you hate him, right?" I asked, like the cocky bitch I was.
She nodded her head, carefully.
"Well, I hate mein Vati also!" I screamed.
The woman relaxed and stared at me. "You're Hitler's daughter?" she asked. She laughed a bit. "Are you SERIOUS?" She yelled.
I nodded my head, trying not to cry, but the tears came. "He's a jackass!" I sobbed.
The woman reached out, uneasily, and hugged me. I sobbed into her shoulder. She hushed me.
I looked up at her, into her deep, brown eyes. "I don't want people to suffer any longer. My dad is a killing machine…" I said quietly.
"I know," said the woman, kissing the top of my hair. "I know."
Suddenly, in stormed a few SS officers. One of them approached me, and handed me to my father. The other SS officer aimed a gun at the woman.
I started to walk away when my father grabbed me. "Let go of me, YOU BEAST!" I screamed, squirming in his death grip.
The man with the gun clicked the trigger and the lady fell dead to the ground.
"Nein!" I screamed. "Nein, Nein, NEIN!" I kept screaming until my father whipped me around.
"Hannelore, I don't ever, EVER want to see you next to a Jude again!" He screamed.
"Dad," I said quietly. "You're a monster." I released myself from his grip and I walked out.
I walked down the street. It was about five in the evening in Munich and I needed to get on a train to Normandy, France. Lukas and I were going to a party together and then to watch the sunset in the Normandy hills.
I walked down the packed Munich streets towards the train stop. As I approached the same train stop, what just happened had sunk in. My father was a murderer. He was an advocate for genocide. He lied to the German population. I boarded my train and the entire two hour ride, all I could think about was the murder of that innocent, Jewish woman. All she had done was console me. Yet, father didn't want me to be touch by a Jew. That was my best guess.
At 5:45, my train stopped in Normandy and I met up with Lukas.
Lukas saw me and embraced me in a hug. "Hannelore," he said into my hair. "Let's get to the party."