Love In Dachau: Part 1

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Sara is a young Jewish girl during World War II. The Nazis have invaded her town. Sara hides in an old factory with her mother, who dies shortly after.

When Sara is discovered, she is sent to a concentration camp. Here she meets Milo, a Nazi guard at the camp. Milo, though tough and harsh, takes a risk when he begins speaking with Sara.

Note: I tried to use real Jewish and German names. I also tried to distinguish the difference between extermination camps and concentration camps. If I make in mistakes with the Holocaust history, please let me know! Also, this is where I got the German names:

A picture of the Nazi uniform:

Picture by title taken by Elena Ayllon.

Submitted: July 20, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 20, 2011



A/N: I've never done a story about the Holocaust. And I've only done a few in third person. So hopefully this turns out well! It'll probably be 3 parts, maybe more. I don't want to make it into a novel, because I'm still not done with my other novel. Enjoy :D

Sara was nineteen years old when the Nazis came for her.

She had been hiding in an abandoned building. There had been a factory fire there, and no one had the money to rebuild it. The conditions were terrible, the smell even worse. Sara’s mother had died a day ago, and she had begun debating when she would venture out of the factory to bury her. She had no shovel; she would have to use her hands. She pictured herself pulling at the ground, her fingernails stuffed with dirt.

Sara looked over at her mother, who was already being eaten by the rats that covered the ground. She had tried to keep them away at first, but there were too many and Sara was too weak from lack of food.

A fat rat scuttled by, its stomach sagging with human flesh. Sara closed her dry eyes, already drained of any tears. She needed to bury her mother soon.

Her mind had blocked out her mother’s last night. Sara couldn’t remember a thing about it. She was vaguely aware that her mother had been leaning against her, tiny and weak. She told Sara she was sorry, and Sara didn’t know why.

Could a concentration camp be as bad as this? The Nazis patrolled the streets day and night. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of them. They went looking for Jews every day, ransacking through houses.

Sara didn’t have anywhere else to go. She would die here. Her and her mother had eaten the last of their food four days ago. They couldn’t leave to get any more; the Nazis patrolled too close to the buildings.

But now, Sara thought, I have to risk it.

Sara knew she needed to bury her mother first. But she could never dig a deep hole without someone noticing. So she began searching the old factory, searching for something to start a fire. She prayed for a match to be somewhere in the building. Sara climbed over fallen down banisters and old rusted machine parts.

She came across what looked like it used to be an office. Sara climbed in and there she found the answer to her prayer. There was a book of matches in one of the drawers of an old desk. The box was scorched, and she opened it quickly, her fingers shaking. She picked up a match, noticed it had already been used, and cursed silently to herself. The next three she found were the same. The very last match in the box was unused, and Sara smiled wearily.

She made her way back out to her mother, saying a few prayers over her body. Sara only had one chance. If that match didn’t work, she would have no way to dispose of her mother’s body. Sara cringed, hating that she thought she had to “dispose” of the body. Yet it was true.

Sara didn’t know where she would go next, but she thought anything would be better than her current situation. She stroked the match against the box, and a flame started. She sighed, a bit out of relief and a bit out of nervousness. The flame danced before her face and Sara had a longing for the life before the war.

Sara dropped the match. She hoped the Nazis would be so distracted by the fire, that they missed her exit entirely.

She began to run, already feeling heat from the fire. She began to smell the burning flesh, and it made her run faster. It was terrible, the smell and the feeling. She could hardly bear it. Her stomach growled, surprising her. It had stopped growling the day after they didn’t have any more food. Sara heard shouts getting closer.

Sara finally reached the back entrance and realized it was half collapsed. She only had a small area to climb through, which could be okay considering her recent weight loss. Sara began to climb through, pushing against the wood that pressed against her. She was halfway through when she realized she was stuck. She could feel the outside air on her left hand and the hot, inside air on her right. She struggled, huffing and wanting to scream. She heard shouts that grew even louder now.

She just wanted to give up, but something in her kept going. She watched as the fire grew closer to her as she struggled against the doorway. She cried out accidentally and began to worry. Just when she felt she would be stuck there to die in a fire of her own creating, she felt a hand on her left grab onto her wrist and pull. She tumbled out of the crushed doorway and onto the soft, wet grass. She went to look up, to thank whoever it was that saved her.

It was a Nazi guard. His uniform was tan, his hat slightly crooked atop his dark wavy hair. His boots were a dark brown and the sign of the Nazis was on his arm like a bandage. Sara looked into his light blue eyes and gasped. His jaw, covered with a five o’clock shadow, was chiseled. His mouth was tight, as if he was so strict that he would not loosen it for a moment in case someone was to attack.

The guard looked back at her, stunned. She was pretty and young. Dark brown sausage curls cascaded around her face, which was smudged with dirt and soot. Her eyes were light brown and stared at him with surprise. Her lips, which were incredibly a natural bright red, were in a perfect O. Her eyelashes were a thousand feet long, stretching upwards. It’s a shame, he thought, that she is a Jew.

The guard hadn’t thought much about pulling her out of her situation. He had been called over to help put out the fire when he saw a porcelain hand hanging out the side of the building. Without another thought, he had just pulled. If it had been another dumb guard sneaking around, he would have reported him. If it had been a Jew, he would simply bring her back to the camp and get a pay raise.

But for some reason, he hadn’t thought it would be a Jew. Yet he could tell, somehow. It was not as if she had a Jewish nose, for it was actually rather small and slender, but perhaps it was in the creases of her face.

He could tell she was terrified. She backed up; running into a tree that she hadn’t realized was there.

“Please-“ She started, her soft voice also surprising him.

“Milo!” Another guard yelled, sounding angry. Milo turned and saw Theodbald walking up towards him. He came to Milo’s side and saw the young Jewish girl and grinned. “Found another, have you? She must have been hiding in the building. I told Hano to check this building days ago, that idiot.” Milo smirked.

Milo sighed. He half waved at Sara, turning away. “Grab her.” Theodbald obliged, roughly grabbing Sara’s arm. Sara yelped angrily.

“Should we take her to Auschwitz?” He asked. Milo shook his head and turned back to face them.

“We’ll give her to Dachau,” Milo said. He walked to Sara and bent down to meet her furious eyes. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” He asked, laughing a little. Theodbald had both of her arms behind her back. Sara’s eyes were in flames and Milo only smiled.

Then, Sara jerked back before spitting right in Milo’s face. He backed up, shocked. He had never seen a young girl with such anger towards him before. Okay, perhaps he had. But not one that had spit in his face! Milo was just as furious now, wiping the saliva off his face.

Theodbald was laughing hysterically, but still maintaining a grip on Sara. She struggled against him, trying to get away. But I don’t know where I’d go, she thought. Yet Sara was not willing to go freely. If they were going to end up killing her anyways, then why not go out with a bang?

Milo stepped up to her, sizing her up. She was tiny and slender, yet he could tell she still had muscle on her legs. She wore only a faded blue dress that hung off of her, so he could not tell if she had any curves. He didn’t know how old she was either, but he thought she must be around twenty. Milo was twenty three himself.

Sara looked up at him, only to find a hand blocking her view. His hand collided with her cheek with a loud smack. Water involuntarily went to her eyes and her vision blurred. Her cheek stung and she was in shock. Her head suddenly fell to her chest as she drifted into pure black, her head pounding. Her breath echoed in her ears and her heartbeat seemed to slow.

Theodbald groaned as he felt the dead weight of her. Milo looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Is she still breathing?” He asked, wondering if he’d not have to deal with her after all. Theodbald checked her pulse on her neck.

“Yea,” He said with a grunt. “Still wanna take her to Dachau?” He asked. “Auschwitz would take much better care of the bitch.” Milo shook his head.

“No,” He said. “I’m being transferred to Dachau. I’ll keep a good eye on her. Why let her die when you can have a bit more fun?” Theodbald laughed and then grunted again.

“Damn,” He said. “Come help me carry her, would you? She’s heavier than she looks.” Milo obliged, stooping down and taking her from Theodbald’s arms. He carried her, bridal style, past the others guards who looked at the girl in his arms and laughed.

“Hey Milo, got a new girlfriend?” One asked. Milo only rolled his eyes and sighed. He could hear Theodbald behind him, telling the other guards about the girl’s temper. He listened as they laughed and hollered.

Milo looked down at the girl in his arms and cocked his head curiously. Her mouth was parted slightly, taking in the fresh air. Her eyelashes lay against her pink cheeks. He could not help but wonder what her name was, this girl with the fiery temper. He set her down in the back of the old green car and continued to stare.

“Who are you?” He whispered. Milo knew that if it wasn’t for this war, she would probably be well sought after as a wife. She was beautiful and ageless. Who knew what kind of life she could have had? She was just a young woman. There’s so much she could have done…

He noticed then a dark purple spot beginning to appear on her cheek. He looked away, knowing that he couldn’t get attached.

She’s just another Jew, he reminded himself; just another of the filthy breed. Training had confirmed this, pounded it into his head. Now he knew for sure. Besides, it was obvious that she deserved whatever she got. She had assaulted him; and he was a higher up officer now. He could have her punished any way he liked.

He heard Theodbald approaching and he closed the car door. “Ready to go?” Milo asked. He nodded.

“Let’s get this Jew to camp,” He said. He grinned and Milo smiled in return. They got into their seats and started the car. Pulling away from the rest of the guards, Milo had a strange thought.

What if the girl was killed the minute they got to camp?

It doesn’t matter, Milo reminded himself. It’s just a Jew.

Part 1:

Part 2:

Part 3:

Part 4:

Part 5:

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