Monday, December 1, 2014

Auf Wiedersehen, Fredrick


White, bright and endless white covers everything…

Somewhere in Poland – December 1951

A heavy blizzard falls announcing the arrival of yet another terrible winter. 

Something moves slowly far ahead, it is a tall pale man who wears an elegant bluish suit and a scarf. He is walking right towards a hill that is covered by snowy trees and mist.

The man is determined to get to the top of the hill, he holds two wooden boxes, one with each hand.

The box at his right is long and thin and made of clear wood.

The box at his left is tall and think and made of darker wood.
He moves onward.
The cold wind blows strong as if was the breath of a terrible frozen beast

The man looks up to the gray skies and tries to find the sun.

He remembers…
A tall and thin man is seen from behind wearing a stripped uniform, he holds a pickaxe and hits a pile of marble rocks that are in front of him.

The hill seems higher than ever before

The man in the stripped uniform lifts the pickaxe high, his hands are bloody, his spirit, weary.

The trees along the hill seem to be spectators to the agony of those who try to get to the top, spectators who whisper and dream of generations past, of revenges and terrible mankind acts.

The man in the stripped uniform falls to the ground bruising his knees and bleeding too. A shadow comes from behind and covers his whole aching body.

The man in the bluish suit gets to the top of the hill – finally – and, from there he sees a little town with no more than fifteen little houses that have several Christmas ornaments.
He then proceeds to open the box at his left and grabs a Mennorah and a kippah.

He lights up the twelve candles, wears the kippah and prays in absolute silence.

He then opens the second box, the box at his right and grabs a riffle, a long American Springfield rifle with an M73 scope.

He lies down and aims at one of the little houses and through the window he sees a family together around a Christmas tree.

There are two blonde children, a blond woman and a tall white bold man.

The shadow behind the stripped uniform man is Fredrick Hellstrom, an SS officer.

The tall white bold man at the living room is Fredrick Hellstrom a former SS officer.

The shooter pulls up his right arm’s sleeve and sees a tattoo that is permanently attached to his body “230385”

He loads the gun, aims to the head and breathes…


The time had finally arrived.

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