A/N: Did I upset you guys? I used to hear from more of you a lot and I am lucky to get two reviews now for the past two chappys... I am not demanding reviews or anything, I am just kinda saddened. I love hearing from you guys. If you have complaints about the story let me know, they help me improve. I want you guys and gals to like it. :D

P.s. Leena, thank you for the review. I wish I could have replied. It was hard. But, like you said I wanted the readers to really get a feel to what not only Lena felt, but people at that time.

Lena

Chapter 9: Liberation

I stood stoically as the guards lined us up. I didn't feel anything as they pointed the gun at me. I have been blissfully numb for the past four months. When they told me to dig, I dug. When they gave the scarps, I ate. I decided that if they were going to shot me, I would die. I no longer felt fear, anger, or sadness. Maybe this was it was like to be crazy. If this was madness, it wasn't so bad.

"Move! You are taking a bath!" they shouted at us. I didn't know why they bothered lying to us. We all knew that bath time was code for either the furnace or the gas chambers. Why the others trembled with each step, I walked steadily. I was prepared for death. Dare I say, that I even welcomed it?

We entered the building and removed our clothing as instructed. Our naked bodies collided as they crammed us in the tight room. I saw the broilers. Furnace it was. I considered breaking the two little girl's necks they made come in with us. Roasting was a slow horrible death. One that I wished them not to endure. But alas, I could not reach them. It was two cramped.

They room started to heat up and women who did not grow up with each other or were even friends, but were bonded by tragic circumstances, held hands. My hand was held and I reached out for another lonely hand in our time of death. I thought of papa. I thought of Wicki and his pretty eyes. I thought of little Milo and wondered if I would see him in the afterlife. I thought of Donny, Hirschberg, Hugo, Aldo and the rest of the Basterds.

Sweat drenched my body and I felt the small puddles of perspiration form beneath my feet. The heat had become unbearable. I cringed as it only got hotter. I heard the little girls scream. I vaguely heard alarms in the background. Maybe it was my mind melting from the heat.

I blast of cool air hit us. It was a strange thing to feel in oversized oven. I heard a yell. It was not German nor any language I was familiar with. People started to move and I realized that we were moving out of the room. Was I dead? Were we moving on the afterlife? The hereafter was cold or maybe I was just hot.

We were brought back into the changing room. The mysterious angel pointed to our clothes. In our dazed state, we just put on the nearest clothing, not caring if it was the same one we were wearing earlier. We were filed back outside. The first thing I noticed was the Nazi bodies that littered the ground, there were a few unfamiliar uniforms. I noticed one had the Russian Communist flag stitched on the arm.

I heard English behind me. I saw American soldiers with gloomy faces as they looked around the camp. Relief hit me like a ton of bricks and my frail body couldn't hold it. I fell to my knees and wept. One of the soldiers rushed to my side.

"Are you alright?" It was an American. He had an accent that reminded me of Aldo.

"Thank you, thank you," I choked out as I wrapped my fragile arms around his neck. He gently hugged me back before standing. He helped me to my feet.

They were Russian and American soldiers. We heard that Russia and America were winning the war, but now I really believed. I was thankful that I was sent to a small camp. I fear that if was in a bigger camp, we would have died. It felt nice to feel again.

They loaded us up on trucks. Everyone one of us cried with joy, but we also wept for the ones who did not make. I wondered where we would go. Would they take us to America? Honestly, I was fine with the aspect. Maybe I would wait in Brooklyn for Donny or Maynardville for Aldo. I didn't know where Wicki would go. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. I dreamt of pretty eyes and blue dresses.

-o-

When I woke it was dark. I was no longer on the truck so I assumed one of the soldiers carried me. I was so thankful to all of them. I glanced around and noticed that we were in a makeshift base. I decided to explore it sense most of the other from the camp were sleeping.

As I walked around the base, I passed by several soldiers who just gazed upon me with pity filled eyes. I heard laughing from around one of the tents. I peeked my head around the tent and saw two men facing each other. One was wearing a bomber jacket while the other wore a cream colored trench coat. They noticed me and stopped talking. The one with the bomber jacket turned to me. He had bright blonde hair, blue eyes, and a large playful grin. The other smiled slightly. He had pale blonde hair and eyes that almost seemed purple in the glow from the fire.

"Hi!" said the bright blonde man, cheerfully. "My name is Lt. Alfred Jones and the big nose Communist over there is Cpt. Ivan Braginski." I smiled at the man. It was a relief to hear jests in such a horrible time. "What's your name?"

"Lena Zimmerman," I was never happier than this moment that I was passable in English.

"German?" asked Ivan, in an accent that I know was able to place as Russian. Though, the question seemed rhetorical. Like he was just talking aloud.

"How are you holding up?" asked Alfred.

"I've been better," I said lightly. Alfred's smiled dimmed. "Thank you." Ivan nodded his head in acknowledgement. Alfred looked confused until it dawned on him what I was thanking him for.

"Just doing our duty, ma'am," Alfred said, his smile impossibly wide. "And not to worry about the other camps. We'll free them too. America will win this war! We are kicking some serious Nazi ass!"

"Russia is doing a great deal of the kicking," piped in Ivan.

"Yeah, but America is the hero. You are more like a sidekick, like England." I expected the other man to get angry, but he simply rolled his eyes. "You know what! We should go drinking! The boys were talking about a tavern that doesn't have any Nazi bastards crawling about. But just in case we can dress as civilians. Ivan and I both know French. You know French, Lena?" I nodded. I was surprised that men I had just met were dragging me off to go drinking. From an outsider it would be suspicious, but I had a gut feeling that these men were good men. Strange, yes. But good men.

I looked down at my concentration camp clothing. I was dirty and half starved. Ivan seemed to have notice my concerns. He nodded for me to follow him. Alfred and I followed him to a tent. He pointed to a bucket of water and he dug thru a knapsack. He pulled out some trousers and a button up shirt.

"Alfred, see if you can find her some boots, if you are still set on taking her drinking." Alfred smiled and ran off.

"He is like a child," I said, laughing softly as I wiped my face. "Why me?"

"He is just like that. As childish as he is, Alfred has a remarkable judge of character. If he considers you a friend or a good friend, he would bend hell and heaven for you. He is a good person. Though don't ask about his wife and kids. He will talk your ear off," Ivan said laughing as he exited the tent.

I removed my clothing and looked down at my naked body. It was covered in scratches and bruises. I touched my ribs and hollow stomach. I was so skinny. Constant work and lack of food really took a toll on a person. However, I was still a lucky one. I had only been there for a short time compared to the others.

I finished washing myself and put on the too big clothing. I rolled up the sleeves until they rested just above my elbow. I tucked the shirt in the pant and tied a piece of excess tent rope around my waist to hold up my pants. I ran my hand over my hair. It had grown over the four months. I wasn't sure on how I looked like, because there was no mirror, but from what I could see it was a great improvement from before.

I exited the tent and saw Alfred holding a pair of boots. They seemed to be on the smaller side. I slipped my feet into them and though they weren't a perfect fit, they weren't far off. I tucked the excess pants into the boot and laced them up. Alfred laughed a little. My guess is that I looked a little funny in the clothing.

"You could almost pass for a boy," teased Ivan.

"Where is this tavern?" I asked with a little more confidence, ignoring Ivan.

"In a village called Nadine," Alfred said.

A/N: I know there was no Basterds, but I like this chapter. I felt it was getting to be such a downer. Therefore, I borrowed some lighthearted characters from Hetalia. Thanks for the idea, Shelbs! Love ya :D However, do not fear you will see the Basterds next chapter. As well Dieter and Archie :D Man, I have the biggest crush on Michael Fassbender. Till next time -Macbeth