I sat quietly, my demeanor peaceful but my mind going a million kilometers per hour. How was I to get Hans out? Even more important, how was I to pass him off as my brother?
All I could do is wait by the fence and hope he would be able to come.
Chapter 17 - Hans’ Story
I was overwhelmed seeing Herschel. I had thought I would never see him again. I was sure the American military courts would hang us all. Now, I might have a reprieve. Herschel had it worked out, a plan to free me, I hoped. To free me, but what of my friends? All I could do was help them get through the fence. After that, they were on their own. I knew I must make a plan to free myself from this camp. Herschel could only help me after I was on the outside.
The fence was the problem. The Americans had built a very tight compound. Around our camp was a fence made up of many strands of barbed wire, taller than my head. There was a gap of possibly three meters and then another barbed wire fence, just as high, surrounding the first fence. If we walked to the front of our camp near the gate and looked across the street, there we could see the other camp, this one surrounded by a single fence, not as high. I’d heard it was a camp for displaced persons from all over the Reich.
I went to our tent and got Karl, Josef and Heinrich. We walked the fence line, stopping behind a large canvas tent in the rear, and I whispered to them, “I am going to escape from here in two nights. I am not going to wait for them to hang me for something I did not do.”
Karl looked at me, shocked, “If the Americans catch you, they will shoot you. Are you insane?”
“Yes, Hans, you do not know if they will hang us. Don’t they have to give us a trial first?” asked Josef.
Josef was the youngest of us, barely sixteen years, short with curly black hair and a slender build. His father had been a fighter pilot and Josef had not heard from him in more than two years. His mother and two younger sisters had lived in Dresden. None of us mentioned what happened to that poor city. He was naïve, had only been in Dachau two or three months before the camp was overtaken by the American soldiers.
I rounded on him. “Every man here was a guard at a camp that killed thousands of innocent people! You think the Amis care about a fair trial? Do not be a simpleton.”
Karl grabbed my arm, pulling me back. He stood at my side and said to the others, “Hans is right. Any trial will be a farce.” He looked from one to the other, “I will go with you, Hans.”
I felt a hand gripping my shoulder. Karl and Heinrich and Josef stiffened, almost standing to attention.
A voice behind me whispered, “So, young man, you and your little friends are going to try to escape?” The Sergeant-major came around and stood before us, hands on hips. He had on a clean uniform, a tall cap and a sneer on his face. He was much older than any of us, with short, graying hair, a deep scar under one eye and thick wrists. A tattoo of a chain was around one of those wrists. He laughed, a short bark.
“I, I don’t know what you are talking about, sir.”
”Oh, come, come now, young private. I overheard everything you said.” He eyed me as if he were used to using a monocle, “And just how do you propose getting through the wire?”
I pulled my shirt up slightly. Tucked into my trousers was a wire cutter. I let the shirt drop. “I was helping a soldier on the new building and found these. One of the working men must have left it behind.” I shrugged. “I thought that I would need it someday, perhaps.”
He held out his hand, “Give.”
“Nein,” I replied, stepping back.
The Sergeant Major came at me and attempted to grab the cutter, and I slapped his hand away. He looked at me in amazement. Once again he came at me and I struck him in the stomach with all my force. He expelled a huge rush of air and clutched his sides, nearly falling.
I’d held my ground against this supposedly superior
All I could do is wait by the fence and hope he would be able to come.
Chapter 17 - Hans’ Story
I was overwhelmed seeing Herschel. I had thought I would never see him again. I was sure the American military courts would hang us all. Now, I might have a reprieve. Herschel had it worked out, a plan to free me, I hoped. To free me, but what of my friends? All I could do was help them get through the fence. After that, they were on their own. I knew I must make a plan to free myself from this camp. Herschel could only help me after I was on the outside.
The fence was the problem. The Americans had built a very tight compound. Around our camp was a fence made up of many strands of barbed wire, taller than my head. There was a gap of possibly three meters and then another barbed wire fence, just as high, surrounding the first fence. If we walked to the front of our camp near the gate and looked across the street, there we could see the other camp, this one surrounded by a single fence, not as high. I’d heard it was a camp for displaced persons from all over the Reich.
I went to our tent and got Karl, Josef and Heinrich. We walked the fence line, stopping behind a large canvas tent in the rear, and I whispered to them, “I am going to escape from here in two nights. I am not going to wait for them to hang me for something I did not do.”
Karl looked at me, shocked, “If the Americans catch you, they will shoot you. Are you insane?”
“Yes, Hans, you do not know if they will hang us. Don’t they have to give us a trial first?” asked Josef.
Josef was the youngest of us, barely sixteen years, short with curly black hair and a slender build. His father had been a fighter pilot and Josef had not heard from him in more than two years. His mother and two younger sisters had lived in Dresden. None of us mentioned what happened to that poor city. He was naïve, had only been in Dachau two or three months before the camp was overtaken by the American soldiers.
I rounded on him. “Every man here was a guard at a camp that killed thousands of innocent people! You think the Amis care about a fair trial? Do not be a simpleton.”
Karl grabbed my arm, pulling me back. He stood at my side and said to the others, “Hans is right. Any trial will be a farce.” He looked from one to the other, “I will go with you, Hans.”
I felt a hand gripping my shoulder. Karl and Heinrich and Josef stiffened, almost standing to attention.
A voice behind me whispered, “So, young man, you and your little friends are going to try to escape?” The Sergeant-major came around and stood before us, hands on hips. He had on a clean uniform, a tall cap and a sneer on his face. He was much older than any of us, with short, graying hair, a deep scar under one eye and thick wrists. A tattoo of a chain was around one of those wrists. He laughed, a short bark.
“I, I don’t know what you are talking about, sir.”
”Oh, come, come now, young private. I overheard everything you said.” He eyed me as if he were used to using a monocle, “And just how do you propose getting through the wire?”
I pulled my shirt up slightly. Tucked into my trousers was a wire cutter. I let the shirt drop. “I was helping a soldier on the new building and found these. One of the working men must have left it behind.” I shrugged. “I thought that I would need it someday, perhaps.”
He held out his hand, “Give.”
“Nein,” I replied, stepping back.
The Sergeant Major came at me and attempted to grab the cutter, and I slapped his hand away. He looked at me in amazement. Once again he came at me and I struck him in the stomach with all my force. He expelled a huge rush of air and clutched his sides, nearly falling.
I’d held my ground against this supposedly superior
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