Where did your life go from childhood days, cast out, moved about
one family to the next, enlisting in the Army, in the hope to leave
the country of your birth
How many times ~ how many? Three you said, when a gun was pointed
at your head, but a guardian angel held you close and let you
breathe another day
Thrown in jail, hard wooden beds, a cell for three fits twelve, facing
court your penance, for trying to escape, you revisited eight years ago
it doesn’t look the same
Bomb blast, the SS and their cohorts gathered round and you and friends
were ordered to pick broken bodies off the ground, how hard this would have
been for you
The head of the girl you knew, had spoken to that afternoon, your friend
that served you drinks ~ and you were told put ‘it’ in a pail to throw amongst
the pile of corpses
~ did you scream then Pop?
Running, forests now your home, European winters so cold, threadbare clothes
for covering, partially frozen lakes you had to swim across, that chilled you
to the bone
Empty tin with water from the stream, covering an old potato this is all
you ate back then
Is this why you love food so much?
Trains, twice, you were nearly caught, as guards stood eyeing civilians
a password given ~ freedom called
‘Professor Schmidt here’ you yelled as you confidently walked past those who
carried rifles, who didn’t give a second glance
Far from the border where you hid at day and scoured through night, until a group
of smugglers helped you and your friends plight
The escape plan had been hatched, a man who hid you in a truck and told you to move
quickly, when he whispered coast was clear
Into a grocery store and up the stairs you fled, waiting for a day and night
till in the morning you were called, when an officer with a gun marched to
the cabin door
Danny with a knife in hand, ready for the kill…. but
This man was in on ‘the act’, this ‘good samaritan’ helped you both escape and as he plunged
a tape into your hand said ~ ‘Make sure you give this to the Americans ~
when you reach your promised land’
©jmtacken 11/11/2013
This has been difficult, as it is a story and I have tried to condense it as much as possible.
great story Jenny, excellent for us on Remembrance Day. We should never take for granted how good our lives are compared to that of our parents and men like your dad. Great tribute.
Thank you Michael. No, we should never take for granted. He went to hell and back, I am so lucky that this wonderful human being is my father and if possible I love him more with every day. Thank you my friend.
Well told. Heartbreaking.
Thank you for reading Tess.
😉
This is moving, violent and tender at the same time; what our parents had to go through sometimes makes me so sad. Thank you for sharing his story with us, particularly on Remembrance Day.
Thank you hun, you’re welcome – it’s strange how I decided to do this 3 part series, not even thinking beforehand that Remembrance was looming. xx
oh my gosh
*nods* xx
dang. stilling. the head in the pail. frig.
geez. i don’t have much.
well writ. a fitting poem for today.
Thank you Brian – yes, I don’t know how Pop’s life could not be effected with what he went through back then – thankfully he got through and is okay.
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Thank you Al.
That really brought a lump to my throat
as it did mine when writing it Al, there is a part 1 also – and I shall be finishing the Series tonight (hopefully)
Thank you for reading.
I will look for that later when I get the chance to (it’s 7am here, and I am just going through my archive as I wait for the kids to rise from their slumber. Trying to wake teens is like trying to swing a cruise liner lol
Morning then! lol ~ let me tell you it doesn’t get any better – my youngest is 26 and she is the same 😦
Hopefully I will complete it tonight – at least it isn’t as gruesome or sad as the last 2.
Oh dear … lol
I look forward to that piece as well then 🙂
Be brave 🙂
Hehe
Thank you so much for sharing. People rarely consider the indelible scars left on the folks who understand all too well the cost of freedom. Give your dad a hug and a “thanks for never giving up” from me. So glad he made it through to the other side. I see where you get your courage. 🙂
Thank you for your gracious comment Kitt. I shall hug him tomorrow when I see him and also show him the posts. I am so glad too, as I wouldn’t be here to tell his story…..you are very sweet 😀 xx
And you have truly been a precious gift to him, I’m sure. (Probably one he thought he’d never have during those dark days.)
that is so lovely – now I am teary – he is my darling and I love him more each day ~ so thank you xx
what a man, you are doing a great job here!
he is that lovely – thank you xx
😉
Oh! I shudder at the hardships he faced during the war. You are so beautifully giving words to his story. 🙂
Yes, as do I anmol, appreciate as usual – your very kind words – thank you. 🙂
Oh, wow. Jen, just wow.
Hmmm is a bit isn’t it xxx
Very much. You’re Dad must be an amazing man to come through all that.
*nods* I won’t disagree with you there my lovely 🙂 xx
🙂 XX
Oh Gentle pop! how did he face the trauma? he came back though. Yes, he did.
Hug him from me.
xxx
Yes he came back and started a new life. I will darling – he has had a few of late from WP friends – think he likes it 🙂 xxx