A Kid Can Face War

The Holocaust was a war that broke out, and at that time, our mother found out that children were going to be taken. She was told by one of her closest friends, whose name was Maria, and she told my mother,

“I heard from my husband that kids five and up will be fighting.”

Our mother was very shocked and scared. She was acting very nervous because she knew what was going to happen. At that time, my mom told Maria she didn’t think it was true. Maria also had a son who was one year older than me and we were best friends. That was before war, though soldiers had later taken his life, and when I found out about his death. I was sad and upset because I couldn’t help him.

I still remember the date of the war starting, it was September 1st, 1939. My friend died in October. I’ve forgotten the date, though. I remember I was scared for my life when I was holding my first gun. I didn’t even know how to use a gun at the time. It felt like I was holding 100 iron bars to me because I was young and weak, now a gun to me is light like a feather. The leather on my gun was the only thing comfortable for me at the time. Seeing how old the other kids were, I thought that maybe I should just be bait for them, but I was also terrified of getting killed. I helped around more, though, because we would find abandoned war houses and I healed the men there even if I was only six at the time. I did experience a lot of things, and we had to be careful because there could be German soldiers there. 

When I treated my first soldiers I was horrified and I asked myself, Am I being punished? Why did you send me here, mother? I was traumatized, but I knew that I had a job. When I healed men, I would have to either use water and medicine or kill them if they couldn’t make it. Killing them was the hardest option for me because I wanted people to live, but it was war so I couldn’t do anything. I remember wishing I was older so that I could be like the rest of the kids and that I could be able to do more.

I think I did get hurt about two times. The first time, I was kicked and punched by a soldier, it was painful because it was my face and my stomach and I remember feeling the hardness of the shoe. The second time was when I was shot for the first time. I thought I was going to die right there. I was crying from all the pain and that I couldn’t say bye to my mom. I saw light. I thought I was done but I was lucky and got saved by one of my fellow soldiers. I remember asking him,

“Can I say bye?”

He stood quietly. I love telling this story and will keep telling it until I’m old. I wish that this world could be a more peaceful place and that wars could end.