Modern History World War II Creative Writing

*All names are of real people, who were in the ghettos, and or concentration camps.*

This Diary belongs to

Samuel Steinmann.

Born 1926 december 15

1941, March 16

They've sealed the Ghetto. The foul stench of dead bodies rotting is now contained by tall, looming walls that are certain to spell death for anyone who wishes to escape. The sharp steel of the barbed wires adorning the top of the wall glint in the sunlight, a menacing reminder of where we are. This stinking, wretched prison, where the, where people are sick, dying, dead, no matter which way Iturn. Looking out now, I can see about 5 young children, none must be much over 6 years old, begging for food from people who clearly have nothing to eat themselves, let alone give away such a precious resource. I can’t stand it. The only things I have left to call my own is this book, a pencil (if you can even call it that) and a whole lot of free time on my hands. I spend my days scavenging through the rubble of buildings that once stood tall, desperately trying to find things which I could trade in for food. To think that once upon a time, long, oh so very long ago, I might’ve had it all. And I took it all for granted.

I remember everything clearly, the day when my life took a turn for the worse. It was 1939 the 1st of September. The Germans declared war against Poland. That morning, they surrounded us from all sides, began air raids that lasted every night for a month. Living in Warsaw began to seem like we were cattle, all being prepared for the slaughter house. The death toll started steadily rising, and the days dragged for what felt like weeks. Dad went off to join the army, help with the war effort. He never came back. It was only mum and I, dad leaving broke mum slowly each day, we were each other’s life support. Finally, after almost a month of heavy bombardments, we surrendered. Within a few hours, German soldiers were marching through the streets of the ruined city, which once resonated with cheerful laughter and music. Their chants overtook any happiness that ever existed there. I snuck out and managed to capture a few candid shots of them marching through the streets with an old camera that used to belong to my father from when he was a manager of a well known newspaper agency. Once upon a time, a long, long time ago.

I call this one. “The Devils March Together”

I had lived there for most of my life. Considering the amount of time I spent in the city, the number of people I was in contact with were not very many at all. A few of my neighbours, some kids who were friends of kids who lived close by, the usual. Our family had a ready air raid shelter built in the backyard, a precaution against rumours about Poland going to war.. Rightly so too. To this date, I can’t help but wonder...what happened to all my neighbours? All those happy, joyful faces, unrecognisable through to the dried up blood, twisted grins...the image makes a chill run down my spine. I remember my father, sitting with me at dining table, telling me about WW1, I remember the way my father’s eyes bore into my own, and I remember realising, even at the tender age of 13, that was was no joke. I had been acquainted to the concept, yes, my father had been telling me the truth about war since I was a child. He knew what it was like, he knew the pain and the struggle - he fought in WW1 when he was just 18. I know people died in wars. And for the time being I choose to accept it. There was nothing anyone could do for the dead. Here's another photo. took of a nearby building, now in rubble.

1941, March 21

Me, Jette, and Mendel haven't eaten anything in five days, the water we get every now and then is filthy, they are definitely trying to kill us, as if we didn't know that already. Oh and jette and mendel Buchbaum were the two kids who i've been surviving with. We became friends the day we were forced into the Ghetto. Anyways back to how it all began. The Germans.

Those bastards, took the life of so many innocent people, both Jewish and Polish. The days that followed, were ones of long hours and humiliation. People of Jewish origin, like me, were forced to wear the star of David on our sleeves to set us apart -, as if it was a disgraceful thing. But we soon realised that these first measures were just the beginnings of a long process, with more edicts everyday, it didn't take long for them to stop us from working in industries, they forbid us from earning more than 500 zloty every month, I earned my living in a small shop, helping with newspapers now that my father had...well, passed. One of the journalist offered me a job since he knew my father, I earned barely enough to survive for me and my mother(which was something to be more than thankful for at the time for us Jews). Mum started washing laundry for people so she would get paid too, hell they even forbid us from baking bread. Weeks went by more and more edicts stacked up for us. Before long we weren't allowed to travel by train or trolley, to leave the city limits without special permits, to own gold or jewellery. Soon enough we started living, (or should I say barely living) our daily lives constantly in fear. We were regularly humiliated, beaten and or even executed in broad daylight, for little or spurious reasons.

1941, March 21

I guess it'll be another night without food, we've been scavenging items and trading them for food, but I don't know how long that'll last. Anyways going back to the Germans.

By October the nazis started the construction of a wall,, it was almost at the centre of the city, south of old town. Brick by brick they built it, as we watched them lay the building blocks of our soon to be prison.

The Wall itself was formidable. If I remember correctly it was the 16th of October 1940, the Governor General Hans Frank ordered all jews in Warsaw rounded up and thrown into the Ghetto.

They loaded trucks and trucks of people on, and herded them back to the Ghetto. My father used to go to community support gatherings, he once told me there were around 350,00 jews living in and around Warsaw. I still had my father’s camera with me so I took a few pictures for our news agency. Here is one of them now. Its of nazI officials kicking jewish men onto the back of a truck. Truck after truck they loaded us.

The day they announced that all the jews were to move to the Ghetto, I was working at the agency. I tried to