Cartman is beyond doubt the most fascinating character Trey Parker and Matt Stone created. I mean, the kid is real a case-study! His childhood issues, his sexual issues, his obsessions, everything is truly, infinitely surprising. He can be a sweetheart (he loves cats, he befriended Shelly, he saved Kyle more than once) while he can be the world's greatest asshole. A selfish evil deceiving opportunist. And the more he fucks our mind, the more we hate him and the more we love him. I hope my interpretation of this chapter comes even a tiny bit close in making justice to this magnificent character.

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!

Herr* Cartman was a wonder child.

Like many good boys from model German families, he attended Hitlerjugend** School. He was a role student and scored the highest grades. He was an example of all the good qualities to be found in a Nazi. He defended Hitler's ideologies zealously and truly believed Germany was building up a new and better world. A perfect world ruled by order, strength and intellect. A world ruled by a race superior to all other races in both physical strength and brilliant mind: the Aryans. Despite his young age, Herr Cartam had already written two extensive essays that caught the interest of the Nazi's Propaganda Ministry. One was about the undeniable Aryan race's superiority, the other about the indispensable extermination of the Jewish race.

Herr Cartman's hatred and despise for the Jewish people was inexplicably limitless. He loathed the short skinny pale dark haired people in every possible manner. Their looks disgusted him. Their arrogance and know-it-all attitude made him sick. Jews were always greedy for money, for gold and would steal it from others, independently of their condition or status. The Jewish children only attended the best of schools and once they reached adulthood, they exerted the best well-paid jobs. But that was before. That was past. The world was changing and evolving, because the Jewish threat was being eliminated.

Herr Cartman's essays were so impressive that the Nazi's Propaganda Ministry contacted der Führer. This child was a prodigy, a symbol for the future of their nation, an inspiration to all other German children. A special meeting was arranged so the young Nazi got to fulfill his wildest dream and meet his Führer*** in person. Herr Cartman had been emotional in that special and unforgettable day. He and Hitler had talked hours about their theories and their common dream of a world deprived of any imperfection. Der Führer had been so impressed with this boy's loyalty and love for the Party, his resolve to eliminate all Jews, his ambition to build Hitler's utopic world, that he promoted him to SS officer, at the very young age of 16.

Herr Cartman had cried tears of joy and kissed his leader's hands with love and devotion. He promised der Führer he would make every Jew that crossed paths with him, live hell before they would meet their inevitable death. And so, unsurprisingly, he was ordered to fulfill his life's mission in the prestigious concentration camp of Dachau. Any Jew that entered this camp was doomed to endure a torturous slow death. Herr Cartman would take away everything they possessed. Their riches, their loved ones, their dignity. He would humiliate them to the point of breaking their souls, to the point they would forget any nice thing about life. He would kill hope and steal the will for life. Herr Cartman believed there was only one fate for the Jews. To bow in defeat to the superior Aryan race and die.

…

Herr Cartman watched proudly as another train full of Jews arrived at his camp. He watched with great satisfaction the Jews being dragged out of the crammed wagons. Nothing could give him more pleasure than the look of terror in their eyes. He loved the sound of the women's desperate screams as they were separated from their loved ones. The cry of frightened children was music for his ears. He grinned while he watched the suitcases and trunks being piled up in a big mountain of cases. Their rich possessions would be confiscated and the rest of their contaminated belongings would burn in a great fire. He watched closely as one soldier opened a trunk and found gold in it.

These filthy sick Jews always take their gold everywhere. They just cannot separate themselves from their precious gold. Fucking greedy bastards!

The soldier threw the suitcase that no longer had valuable things into the pile of already burning trunks. Herr Cartman watched happily as other soldiers added bags, clothes, toys, books and a violin into the fire.

Wait…a violin?

"Hey! You fucking shithole!" Herr Cartman scolded the soldier that had just thrown the violin into the fire. The officer stared at his superior confused and frightened. "You don't fucking burn a violin!" He quickly grabbed the violin before the heat of the flames would reach it.

"But sir, we were ordered to burn all useless belongings." The soldier protested.

"You are an idiot! Violins are no useless belongings, you big piece of crap! They are music instruments!" The soldier stared back with a stupid expression. "Bah, you know nothing about culture!" And as he said this, Herr Cartman walked away with the violin in his hand.

…

Kyle still could not believe how the human being had the ability in adapting to extreme circumstances. He had been living in the D34 barrack at the Dachau camp for already four months. He remembered how uncomfortable it was sleeping in a small bed, with an itchy mattress and a thin blanket the first nights. He remembered feeling cold all the time, losing the feeling in his hands and feet due to the winter low temperatures. He remembered how his muscles remained sore and painful all day, result of the continuous heavy work. He remembered feeling starving at all times.

Despite of how challenging things were, his life had become a little bit more bearable than during the first weeks. His body had adapted itself to the physical adversities. At a certain point, his body simply stopped feeling the cold and instead got used to it. Just like it got used to the hard work and the lack of food. Above all, it were little survival tricks he learned during his stay in the camp that made the difference between life and death.

He and his brother always slept together, their bodies close, producing both warmth and comfort. The exhausted body from a long hard day of labor made it easy to fall asleep; but Kyle's mind had trained itself to wake up just before the waking call. He would wake up his father and brother, so they could wash themselves when few used the common bathroom, just before the morning's rush.

Kyle was observant and learned a lot by being creative or imitating Jews that lived longer in the camp. He noticed, during the long waiting minutes or hours (whatever pleased the Nazi's) for the morning rollcall, when the Jews stood immobile outside in the cold wind, sometimes in the cold rain; that placing himself close to his father and brother and right behind a taller man, helped to keep part of the cold away.

He had watched a few particular Jews during lunchtime. They always waited purposely at the end of the line to receive soup, unlikely the rest of the starving Jews that always struggled to be the first on the line. He followed their example and discovered, if you wait back on the line, the soup will actually have some solids in it instead of only water. Because the food sinks to the bottom of the pan. All these little tricks eased a bit the tortured days that passed by. Kyle had also ceased focusing in the life he once knew and lost. He gave up of all his dreams and ambitions his teenager's heart ever longed. His new purpose was now to survive and take care of his family. His only goal was to make sure they lived one more day. Just one more day.

Gerald Broflovski too had learned important tips from other Jews living in the camp for a while. It was the key to stay alive, the key to never anger the Nazis. Keep a low profile. He passed this knowledge to his sons.

Always walk with your head down. Never look up when a soldier calls you. Never look to their faces, above all, never look into their eyes. The eyes must always be fixed on the ground. Because Nazi's love submission, love to feel the power of superiority.

Never show that you are tired. Never give up. Because those who give up always die.

When a soldier insults you, never reply. Never protest. Never go against him. If he asks you anything, always agree with him. There is one Nazi in particular you must always avoid upsetting. Herr Cartman. Kyle knew who he was. He had seen him several times, scanning the work fields of the camp. It was a young SS officer. The bastard clearly hadn't reached adulthood yet, he was about his age. This fat pig, who screamed the most degrading insults, who lived from other's pain and suffering, was the most sadistic of all people in Dachau.

"He's the dangerous one." An older Jew warned him, the first time Kyle caught a glimpse of the large silhouette from the corner of his eye. "He hates Jews like no other Nazi hates them. Be sure to never cross paths with him if you wish to stay alive." And Kyle had no plans to piss up the SS.

He always worked between his father and Ike. Every day it was the same routine. Breaking large stones into smaller ones, carrying them with their hands, dumping the stones on a chart, so they would be transported to a truck. Even though his hand's skin was broken and bled all the time, he didn't not feel the pain anymore. He had learned to ignore the pain and accepted it as part of his life. It was when they were carrying the stones that his father stumbled and fell on the floor. Kyle, without thinking, dropped his amount of stones and rushed to help his father get up. His action didn't pass unnoticed.

"Hey! You red haired Jew!" Kyle's eyes widened in terror. That was Herr Cartman's voice. The monster of Dachau. He froze and read the look of fear in his father eyes. Other Jews looked up very momentarily, but ignored the happening and went on with their work, like if nothing was going on. This was survival. Each one for himself. "Fucking Jew!" The voice came closer.

Remembering all the warnings and rules he learned since he arrived in the camp, Kyle stood up quickly and fixed his eyes on the ground. His father too, hastened to get up, and started gathering the fallen stones, while he urged Ike to continue working and act like nothing was happening. He had to limit the damage Kyle had already done.

The red haired Jew felt his heart beat increase and his breathing accelerated when his down casted eyes distinctively discerned the round form of a fat belly under the dark uniform opposite of him.

"What do you think you were doing?" Herr Cartman asked in a low but threatening voice. Kyle remained silent, just like he was taught to. "Well Jew. What were you doing?" He asked upset, but Kyle didn't dare to speak a word. "What were you doing, fucking retard Jewrat?! Answer me! NOW!" Kyle flinched at the shout and hesitated for some seconds. He had a dilemma. He had learned never to address a Nazi if he wanted to live, but he also had learned one should never disobey an officer's order.

"N-Nothing, sir" Kyle's voice was nothing than a mere whisper.

"What? You expect me to believe you? Tell me the truth!" Herr Cartman demanded impatiently. "Come on. Tell me the truth, you Jewish piece of shit!" Again Kyle hesitated but figured out the safest was to answer the angered Nazi.

"I saw a man fell down and went out to help him." Kyle whispered, his eyes shut tightly, anticipating the worst now.

"You what?!" Herr Cartman sounded truly outraged. "Tsc-tsc. So you little Jewboy thought you could just stop working?" He said in a fake sweet tone. "Well it doesn't work that way!" Kyle flinched at the sudden yell for Herr Cartman's satisfaction. He loved to see how Jews would waver under his power. He looked at the mass of red curls on front of him and became curious. Most Jews were dark haired, had dark eyes and long pointy faces. He wondered if this one was like this too, despite the rare hair color. "Look at me." He coolly ordered. Kyle's eyes widened. Herr Cartman had just ordered him to do the most forbidden thing. This would mean his death. "Look at ME!" The Nazi shouted, losing his patience.

Kyle bitterly realized it made no difference what he did. Being a Jew in a Nazi's world simply didn't offer any options. Whether he chose to look up or not, it did not matter. He was condemned to die either way. And so he regretfully accepted his fate, knowing death would finally come to claim him. All he could do was chose how he wanted to die. He did not want to die like a coward. So he obeyed. Kyle slowly lifted his head. Herr Cartman was slightly taken aback, not expecting him to actually look up. This action was the last thing he expected from any Jew. He had done this before and never did a Jew ever take their eyes from the ground, no matter how hard he yelled, no matter how much he insisted. This redhead was whether a fool or suicidal.

Kyle commanded all his fears to vanish. He lifted his chin slightly because the Nazi was taller than him and looked straight into the eyes of his enemy. If this would mean his death, at least he wouldn't give this monster the pleasure of seeing fear and defeat on his face. Herr Cartman was perplexed. This Jew actually dared to look at him in the same level. Worst of all, he dared to look into his eyes. Other Jews saw Kyle look up and broke the gaze, knowing the tragic end that awaited this foolish boy. Gerald Broflovski saw it too, but said and did nothing. He couldn't change events now and still had a young son to take care of. So he broke the stones with more force, breaking his skin and nails altogether with each blow, regretful tears cascading from his eyes. Kyle's action wasn't missed by the other Nazis either, who smirked both for his daring and imprudence. Soon he would be gone like many others, but he would be remembered as the Jew who dared to look upon Herr Cartman.

As for Herr Cartman, he remained a few moments paralyzed. He was lost in the depths of the young Jew's eyes. They were green. A forest green kind. And there was no fear in them. They were deprived of any kind of despair. Deprived of sadness and even weariness. And he wondered shocked, how was this possible? Why wasn't this Jew showing suffering like all the other Jews? Because all he read in those deep green eyes was inner strength and determination. Hatred, a great deal of hatred. Obviously, this Jew was not the quitting type.

Herr Cartman had become curious. He slowly walked around the Jew and examined him better. Short, skinny, frail. The typical Jewish body type. Kyle could feel his heart beat race to an unhealthy speed, wondering what was going on in the Nazi's head. Why had he not shouted at him? Why had he not struck him dead? Other Jews, including his father, gave short glances in his direction, too wondering what was happening. Just like the Nazi soldiers, that were now more curious than ever to see what their superior would do.

Herr Cartman walked twice around the Jew, watching him closely from up to down. He stood again opposite Kyle, held the boy's chin up and studied his face, turning it from one side to the other. Not exactly the typical long and pointy jawline from most Jews, long thin nose though. Although the skin was pale, it didn't have the sickening yellowness or grey shade some Jews had. He concluded, if this boy weighted some more pounds, was washed and well kept, was actually attractive to look at. And that was a strange characteristic for a Jew. Attractiveness. He wondered if this Jew belonged to some subcategory of Jews, one that had evolved itself in order to lose their ugliness and deceive the world with pleasant looks.

Kyle still had his eyes on Herr Cartman and couldn't understand the hell was going on. Why this guy was suddenly so interested in observing his features? He should have yelled his death sentence by now. Herr Cartman looked back into the green eyes and read the momentary confusion in them. He grinned maliciously and before Kyle could understand what was going on, he slapped him right across the face, so the redhead lost his balance and fell on the ground.

"Go back to your work, you lazy piece of shit! Move it!" Herr Cartman shouted and his wicked smile grew wider when Kyle quickly got up, grabbed his stones and ran away as fast as he could. "You have just unleashed hell on yourself, you little son-of-a-bitch." He whispered to himself. He turned to leave and his eyes met some soldiers that were still staring at him. They received cold chills in the back of their spines when they saw the malicious look on his face. And automatically knew, death would have been a kinder fate for this Jew.

While Kyle worked again, his cheek still glowing, but relieved nothing horrible had happened, he could not stop wondering why the Nazi had spared him. Maybe God had for once listened to his prayers. Little did he know Herr Cartman followed the Jew's movements closely with an evil smirk. There had been something in those eyes that intrigued him. Something that made him curious about this Jew. He wondered what it would take to break his will.

Herr Cartman had found new challenge.

*Herr: (German) Mister, formal use.

** Hitlerjugend school: (German) The Hitler Youth: It existed from 1922 to 1945. It was a paramilitary Nazi group and was composed by:

- Hitlerjugend, for male youth aged 14 to 18;

- Deutsches Jungvolk (German Youth), boys aged 10 to 14;

- Bund Deutscher Mädel (the League of German Girls).

The Hitler Youth were viewed as future "Aryan supermen" and were indoctrinated into racism. One aim was to instill the motivation that would enable Hitler Youth members, as soldiers, to fight faithfully for the Third Reich. The Hitler Youth put more emphasis on physical and military training than on academic study.

***der Führer (German)= The Leader, Hitler's well-known title

A/N

Camp prisoners used all kind of tricks to survive. I learned the story about the soup during my visit in Camp Vught. Many managed to survive long periods of hard work and starvation, not only because of their persistency, but also thanks to the little tricks that eased their lives a bit.

The rollcall was the moment the prisoner's number would be called out so everybody had to mark their presence by shouting "Present". It took place in the morning and the evening. If there wouldn't be an answer to a number, they would start all over again, so sometimes it would take hours before they were ready. But sometimes, they just make the prisoners stand for hours, for the sake of cruelty. Try to stand 5 minutes without moving one muscle. Then picture yourself doing this in the cold wind, under rain, or during the hot sun of the summer. And then for hours. Unbelievably hard.