As the first American officer, a major, descended from his tank, "the young Teutonic lieutenant, Heinrich Skodzensky," emerged from the guard post and came to attention before the American officer. The German is blond, handsome, perfumed, his boots glistening, his uniform well-tailored. He reports as if he were on the military parade grounds near Unter den Linden during an exercise, then very properly raising his arm he salutes with a very respectful "Heil Hitler!" and clicks his heels. "I hereby turn over to you the concentration camp of Dachau, 30,000 residents, 2,340 sick, 27,000 on the outside, 560 garrison troops." The American major did not return the German Lieutenant's salute. He hesitates a moment as if he were trying to make sure he is remembering the adequate words. Then he spits into the face of the German, "Du Schweinehund!" And then, "Sit down here" - pointing to the rear seat of one of the jeeps which in the meantime have driven up. The major gave an order, the jeep with the young German officer in it went outside the camp again. A few minutes went by. Then I heard several shots. Martin Gilbert, based on an account given by Albert Guerisse, The Day the War Ended. ------ The small Catholic chapel had been requisitioned by the Americans for a front-line hospital when they entered the town two days ago. Down in the basement, candles lit a darkened room where Dr. Roger Mason was checking up on one of the patients, examining the soldier's I.V. drip as the statue of Our Lady of La Salette looked on silently. Satisfied that the young Private's condition was stable, he walked out of the side room across from the sacristy where the priestly vestments were usually kept for mass and where six patients were currently squeezed in. Turning to his right, he headed down the narrow hallway towards the small library in the back, his back to the wall as he slid by the two soldiers lying in cots who were in his way. "Almost done," a woman's voice reassured from behind the closed door into the library. Dr. Mason opened the door to see the nurse on duty completing a sponge bath she was giving to a Master Sergeant who'd lost both legs to a land mine. As she finished her job and carefully put the soldier's pajamas back on, the medic came up to her. "You look exhausted Sarah," he said, "Come on, let's go upstairs and grab some coffee." Sarah Shore looked over to the doctor and smiled wearily. The attractive twenty-six year old nurse pushed a few stray brown bangs away from her dark eyes, "Thanks," she said, "But if it's all the same to you, I think that if my shift is over I'd rather get some shuteye." "Yeah," the medic muttered, "I know what you mean, I..." Dr. Mason's voice died off as footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs, "That's probably your relief now," he said, turning to exit the room as Sarah let out a long yawn. The nurse watched as the doctor looked out in the hallway and suddenly stood at full attention, saluting whoever it was that had come down the stairs. A few seconds later an older doctor came in, followed by a rather imposing-looking soldier with a riffle slung over his shoulder. Sarah saluted as well once her eyes drifted from the red cross on the older doctor's helmet to the bird on his collar, signifying he was a full Colonel. The Colonel returned both their salutes. "At ease," he ordered, suddenly turning his attention to the nurse, "Second Lieutenant Sarah Shore?" "Sir, yes sir," Sarah responded, her mind racing as she tried to think of anything she might have done wrong that would warrant a visit from the commanding officer. "Lieutenant Shore," the Colonel said in a low voice as he and the foot soldier came over, "I'm Colonel Tyler Walker, from the 451st MASH unit a few miles east of here. I understand from your record that you arrived on D-Day plus five, correct?" Sarah nodded, "Sir, yes sir," she answered, adding, "By the time I and the medical unit I was assigned to had arrived, the landing beach had already been cleared of the dead, sir. Since then we've been following our boys. I haven't actually been near the front line," she said a bit embarrassedly, "I guess I got lucky, sir." "Hmm," the Colonel responded with a nod. Coming closer, he added in an even lower tone, "I also understand that you're Jewish." Sarah cocked her head to the side at that, "Sir?" "Do you speak any Hebrew?" the Colonel asked, "Any German or Yiddish?" "I know a few prayers in Hebrew that I learned as a child," Sarah answered nervously, unsure why the Colonel was asking such a question, "I don't know any German, but I'm very good with Yiddish. It was practically all I spoke as a child until I was twelve." "I see," the Colonel answered as he turned to the foot soldier behind him. The soldier then came forward to address her. "Lieutenant Shore," he began, "I'm Major Tom Sanmartino of the 157th Regiment of the 45th Thunderbird. We're trying to gather as many Red-Cross and military medics and nurses who understand the languages Colonel Page just mentioned as we can. I'm sorry, you look like you could use some sleep. I'm afraid you're not going to be getting any for a while." "I see," Sarah said slowly as she digested what she'd just been told, "Major, might I ask exactly what it is I'm being volunteered for?" Major Sanmartino suddenly looked uncomfortable as he turned away from the nurse, scratching the side of his face as he avoided eye contact, "We... We've found a camp," he explained, "About three hours ago. I... I just came from there." "A camp?" Sarah asked, "What do you mean? Exactly what sort of camp?" "We believe it to be a concentration camp," Colonel Walker answered for the major, "We'll brief you more on the situation later. In the meantime, Major Sanmartino will show you to the ambulance truck you'll be traveling in." Sarah nodded, her mind racing back to some of the stories that had been coming out of the front lines about the recently discovered camps. Of course, part of the problem was that this was a war, and during war all sorts of stories began to circulate about the enemy, tales often fed by the propaganda department. Thus, the nurse had learned took such horror stories with a grain of salt. She followed the Major up the stairs of the chapel. At the top, he turned to her, "Before we leave, you want to grab some coffee?" Sarah smiled. Dr. Mason had already asked her that same question, and she'd turned the offer down. But then, she was planning on going straight to bed, not out into the field directly after an eighteen-hour shift. "Coffee sounds good," she answered. As the Major motioned a fellow soldier over, Sarah looked over to her right where a convoy of Red Cross ambulances were forming, nurses and doctors already filling four large trucks. The Major said something to his fellow soldier who proceeded to run off before turning his attention back to the nurse. "The hundred and first came upon one of the sub camps earlier this morning," he said, "The Germans somehow knew they were coming, and set fire to a group of barracks with prisoners still inside and shot as many of the other prisoners as they could before they ran out of bullets and ran off. My own regiment, along with the 222nd of the 42nd Rainbow and the 20th armored came upon the main camp where we..." his voice died off as he studied the nurse more closely, "Lieutenant Shore, I think it's only fair to warn you, what you're about to see is going to be extremely unpleasant. Again, I'm sorry you have to get involved in this." Sarah turned away from the ambulances to look at the Major as the soldier from earlier returned with a thermos and a tin cup. Pouring the coffee into the cup, he handed it to her. "Here you go beautiful," he said in a southern accent, winking at the nurse as she took the cup from him. "Private," the Major said sternly, "This is Lieutenant Shore, not 'beautiful.' Now salute her properly and get back to your platoon." The private looked from Major Sanmartino to the nurse, saluted her nervously, and quickly scurried off again. "Forgive him Lieutenant," he said, "It's been awhile since most of these boys have seen an attractive woman." Sarah smiled at the compliment, "So," she said as she took a sip of her coffee, "Which transport will I be with?" "You're going to go out with ambulance truck four," he said, pointing to the vehicle in question, "Once there, you'll be assigned to a doctor who needs an interpreter." A short time later, Sarah climbed aboard the truck filled with doctors, nurses and medical equipment. She sat next to an older nurse who was knitting a scarf as, in front of her, two other nurses talked of the latest gossip in the MASH units and what doctor was seeing what nurse. As the trucks started out, the group broke out into song. "When the Fuhrer says, 'Ve is de master race,' we'll say 'Heil, thppt!' (they yelled as they gave the bronx cheer) 'Heil, thppt!' right in the Fuhrer's face!" The singing ended a few minutes later, and Sarah closed her eyes as memories of an earlier time slowly crept into her consciousness. ------ -June 12, 1942- Sarah's parents never fully understood why their daughter wanted to become a nurse. And they certainly couldn't imagine why, after three years at nursing school she'd voluntarily enlisted into the Army medical corps. Sarah didn't bother to try to explain herself to her parents anymore. It was enough that her younger brother Rich was supportive of her at least. Leaving her parents' apartment up in the lower east side of Manhattan, she went out and hailed a cab, checking the mirror in her compact to make sure her makeup was on right and she looked her best. Sarah had always considered a beautiful girl growing up, a beauty that only seemed to increase with the years. She'd gained a reputation of being a bit aloof at the nursing school however due to the fact that she never seemed to show much interest in some of the male teachers all the other students had crushes on. That, and the fact she never seemed to have a boyfriend, earned her the title of "ice queen." As the cab dropped her off outside a large movie theater, the attractive young woman was soon met by a fellow recent graduate of nursing school, Jess Sullivan. Unlike Sarah in her dress and high heels, Jess had chosen a pair of fashionable women's slacks and saddle shoes. "Have you got the tickets yet?" Sarah asked as she smiled warmly at the other woman. "Right here," Jess said as she pulled the two tickets in question out of her purse, handing one to Sarah as they both entered the movie palace, "They say it's supposed to be a good one." A short time later, the two women sat next to each other in the back of the balcony of the movie palace, Sarah leaning her head on Jess' shoulder as the other woman wrapped her arm around her. As the movie began, Jess looked down at her fellow nursing student, "Comfortable?" she whispered. Sarah nodded, adding, "You know I'm always comfortable around you,"as she took Jess' free hand into her own. Jess smiled at the compliment as Humphrey Bogart appeared on the screen. They sat for nearly an hour in silence as the film played. Finally, Jess whispered out of the corner of her mouth, "When do you head out with the army?" Sarah swallowed hard. She knew this moment was coming, but it didn't make it any easier for her, "Next week," she answered, "Yourself?" "I head out to the Catskills tomorrow," Jess answered, "The hospital my father works at accepted my application, and I'll start working there next Tuesday." Silence fell upon the two as the film's musical score rose in volume dramatically. Finally, Sarah lifted her head from Jess' shoulder and looked at her sadly, "We... We're never going to see each other again, are we?" she asked, her voice cracking a bit as, on screen, Humphrey Bogart was saying goodbye to Ingrid Bergman. Jess turned to the woman next to her, "No," she managed to get out, wiping away a tear as it traveled down her cheek. The two young women silently sat in the theater holding each other's hands as the film raced towards its conclusion, both forgetting the screen as they focused instead on one another. They wrapped their arms around one another in the darkness of the back of the theater as they kissed passionately, the taste of buttered popcorn and salty tears mixing around in each other's mouths while up on the screen Humphrey Bogart and Claude Reins walked off into the foggy night together. ------ Sarah was brought out of her reminisces by a foul, acrid odor. She looked out one of the glass windows on her side of the ambulance, and saw a series of buildings fenced in by a type of chain-linking made of barbed wire. Outside the fence lay the dead bodies of several recently killed men in SS uniforms. As the ambulance convoy continued onward, she saw them; the inmates. They stood there like living skeletons, watching the trucks slowly drive past the M.P.s at the gate and enter the camp. The nurses around her likewise gasped, two beginning to cry as they caught sight of the pathetic inmates. Where they parked the ambulance, Sarah had an unobstructed view of a cattle car on the tracks surrounded by G.I.s. As she watched a man in army fatigues with a camera came up to the group, at which point the soldiers covered their faces and opened the cattle car, revealing stack upon stack of bodies in advanced states of decomposition. As she and the other nurses were quickly ushered out, they found themselves surrounded on all sides by starving female prisoners who were reaching out to try and touch them. She turned to her right and saw one younger prisoner walk up to the nurse who'd been knitting on the way over here, and watched as the inmate wrapped her arms around the American nurse and began to cry on her shoulder. Suddenly, Sarah felt something on her hand. Looking over, she saw an old woman tenderly taking her hand up to her lips, kissing it as she wept something out in German. The nurses and doctors found themselves surrounded on all sides by the grateful survivors of the concentration camp. As they surrounded her, Sarah saw in the distance two American soldiers with one of the women prisoners and a man carrying a film camera. As he set his camera up on a tripod, the two Americans removed the frail inmate's dress, holding up the now nude woman as the camera started to roll. Turning away from the sight, she began to work her way through the crowd towards a jeep where she saw two soldiers standing, one of whom wore Captain's bars. "And that building over there," he said, pointing a large structure out to the private he was talking to, "Is apparently where they kept the ovens for disposing of the dead, and right next to it is a building that was supposed to look like a shower area, but instead of water coming out poisoned gas would..." "Captain!" Sarah yelled over as she strode toward the officer. The Captain looked over at the Lieutenant, then quickly turned to the Private to dismiss him before turning his full attention over to Sarah. "Yes Lieutenant," he said, "What seems to be the problem?" "Captain," she began, "Why are these women still here? Why in..." she walked closer to the soldier as she dropped her voice, "Why in the hell did you send for nurses and doctors without sending for food for these poor women as well? And them," she asked angrily as she pointed at the photographer and the man with the film camera, "These women aren't here to be put on display like pieces of meat. There being posed before them like they're on exhibition or something." "They're taking pictures as evidence," the Captain explained as he removed his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair, "Once this war is over and we nab the Nazi bas... those responsible," he said, quickly correcting himself in the presence of the nurse, "We can then use those pictures to make them pay." Sarah narrowed her eyes, "And what about the food, Captain?" she asked. The soldier looked down at the ground as he drew in a breath, "We can't feed them." Sarah's jaw dropped in disbelief, "What?" "We can't feed them!" he snapped as he met her gaze once again. Taking a deep breath, he continued on more calmly, "Look, I'm sorry, but those are our orders." "It's not his fault," a voice behind the lieutenant said. Sarah turned around and saw Major Sanmartino walking up to the two of them, "Look, try to understand; these women are starving," he began, "If we give them too much to eat too quickly it'll kill them. They'll literally eat themselves to death." Sarah stared at the major silently as she digested that bit of news. She then looked away from him, back to the group of inmates being tended to by some of the other nurses, "Can't we at least get them out of here?" she pleaded more than asked. "We're trying to find suitable sites to relocate them to in and around the nearby town," the Captain spoke up again, "Until we do though we have no choice but to keep them here." "We need to keep these prisoners centralized," the Major put in, "We need to closely monitor how much they eat and ensure they get proper medical treatment in order to get them back on their feet, and we can't do that if we allow them to scatter." Coming closer, he added, "Lieutenant, we hate this just as much as you. We're human beings too." "Major Martini," a Sergeant called over as he came up to the group, "Doctor Stevens wants to know if you've found him a nurse yet who speaks the local lingo." Major Sanmartino looked over to Sarah and smirked, "My men call me Martini," he explained with a slight shrug. Turning back to the Sergeant he nodded, "Lieutenant Shore here speaks Yiddish. She'll go with you to help Captain Stevens." Sarah numbly turned from the Major to follow after the Sergeant, a bulky man in his late twenties who was in desperate need of a shave and who was currently smoking a cigar. He led her past a truck where fresh blankets were being passed out toward a building in which a gangly young doctor currently had a tongue depressor in an old woman's mouth. He looked over to the nurse and sighed in relief. "Nurse," he asked, "Can you please ask this woman to say 'ah' for me?" Saran nodded and, turning to the shaven-haired woman, gave the doctor's instruction in Yiddish. The woman complied, and the doctor visibly winced as he got a look into the windpipe. "The fresh water won't be arriving for another two hours," he said to Lieutenant Shore as he took out his stethoscope, "Ask her to breath in and out deeply." Sarah conveyed the request and the woman complied as the doctor continued, "Besides the malnourishment, the overcrowding in this hellhole has caused a widespread typhus epidemic, as well as an epidemic of lice among the prisoners. We need to delouse these poor women as soon as possible and... Lieutenant? Lieutenant, are you okay?" Sarah began to step back away from the doctor, the ghostly faces and skeletal figures overwhelming her as she shook her head slowly. "Nurse," the Doctor said, "What..." She didn't stay to listen to the rest of what the captain had to say, instead turning around and running out of the structure as fast as she could. ------ Gilda watched as the American soldiers began passing out blankets and doctors, real doctors, not like those SS bastards who ran the sick ward and performed the medical experiments she'd heard about from survivors, began the overwhelming task of trying to take care of the thousands still living. She slowly began to stagger towards one of the lines the soldiers were forming to get looked at when she saw someone running across her field of vision. She turned to get a better look, and felt her breath catch in the back of her throat at what she saw. An angel. It had to be an angel; she couldn't remember anyone, not even her Alka from the girl's school in Poland, looking as beautiful as this. As she watched the vision run, she wondered why an angel would come down to a hellhole like this. Without realizing it, she had begun to follow after her, wobbling unsteadily on her thin legs as she watched the angel run behind barrack number five. ------ Sarah stopped once she got behind the building with the number five painted on it. She reached out a hand to steady herself against the building as she struggled to catch her breath, closing her eyes as the images raced through her head; the human skeletons, the barbed-wire gates, the cattle cars filled with the dead, the ovens, the gas chambers... The stench... Sarah opened her eyes, her stomach muscles tightening painfully as she threw up. She began to convulse as the tears came, stinging her eyes as they ran down her cheeks. How could anyone, the Nazis, the SS, anyone, commit such a horror against so many people? She covered her mouth with her hand as she continued to sob, her crying causing her to start to hiccup. A hand came to rest on her shoulder from behind. As Sarah took a deep breath to try and calm herself, it started to gently rub back and forth across her shoulders, silently offering the nurse comfort. She hiccuped again as she began to calm down. "Th... Thank you," she managed to get out, pulling her hand away from the building as she reached up to place her hand over the stranger's. She froze when she felt how thin and cold the hand was. Turning around, she saw it was one of the inmates whose hand she was holding, a tall woman wearing wire-framed glasses. As she looked into the woman's sunken eyes, she felt like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. They were grey in color, and they looked at her in a mixture of sadness and pity. Gilda likewise was speechless; she never thought an angel could cry. Then she saw the Red Cross insignia on her armband. Not an angel it would seem, but a nurse. She began to wonder to herself if she would've made the same mistake if she were out in the real world, or if Dachau and hunger had driven her mad, when the nurse spoke. "I'm sorry" she muttered in Yiddish as she wiped the tears from her eyes. Gilda found herself smiling back in spite of the surroundings as she gave the American nurse's hand a slight squeeze, "It's alright, you don't have to apologize," she reassured, adding "You're not the first to break down in tears upon arriving here." Sarah looked back up into the prisoner's grey eyes in surprise as she shook her head slightly; she was supposed to be here with the Americans in order to bring comfort to these poor women, not be comforted by them. Instead, here she was being consoled by one. What kind of a madhouse was this? Gilda heard movement to her left, and turned to see one of the women from her barrack walk by with a new blanket draped over her shoulder. She turned back sadly to the nurse before her, giving the slightly older woman's hand another squeeze as she turned and began to slowly walk away. As she watched the inmate turn away from her, Sarah noticed something unusual; her Star of David wasn't all yellow like most of the Jews here; it was yellow and pink. As the tall prisoner continued in the direction of the jeeps, Sarah began to loose her in the crowd. She thought of those grey eyes, so intense, so big, so... beautiful? Yes, somehow, in the middle of the bowels of hell, she'd managed to find beauty in the eyes of one of these walking dead. She began to head after her, not sure why or what she would do or say once she caught up with her. Before she got to far however, she felt a strong hand grab at her upper arm. "There you are!" Captain Stevens said as he tightened his grip slightly, "Nurse, in case you've forgotten I don't know any German or any other language these women speak. I need your help to treat them." Lieutenant Shore turned to him with desperation in her eyes, then looked back to the sea of inmates. "I lost her," she whispered to herself as she felt her heart sink. "What?" "Nothing doctor," she answered despondently as she looked back over to the doctor, "Come on, let's get started," she said, following him to the building the SS had originally set aside as an infirmary and which the Americans were now about to use for the exact same purpose as they would try to save as many inmates as they could. Sarah turned and took one last look out at the throng of prisoners before following the doctor into the building. ------ End Notes: The two Divisions mentioned are the 42nd and the 45th Divisions of the US Seventh Army. The members of the 42nd wore a patch with a rainbow in it, whereas the patch that designated the 45th had a golden eagle design. Thus, their nicknames- the 42nd Rainbow and the 45th Thunderbird. There is still to this day an argument over whether it was the 42nd or 45th Division that actually first liberated the prisoners of Dachau's main camp. I went with the 45th, although I did make a point to mention the 42nd as well as the 20th armored and the 101st Airborn who liberated one of Dachau's sub camps, an event captured in the HBO mini series Band of Brothers. This chapter is dedicated to my sweetheart Helena Elrod, who proofread part of it to see if it sounded authentic.
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