My Mother's Secret by J. L. Witterick

when I was quite young, my
oma
has said to me, “Vilheim, all this will be yours one day, and you must know how to look after it.”
    I feel a great responsibility toward all the animals.
    I won’t be like my father or mother, who don’t care about anyone but themselves.

Chapter 45
    O ma looks very serious one evening as we sit by the fireplace after dinner.
    She has dismissed all the farm workers early and asked that we not be disturbed.
    â€œVilheim,” she says solemnly, “Germany started a war and although we are far from it on our farm, it will come for you.
    â€œYou’ll be asked to kill people you don’t know, and the opposite will be true too.
    â€œSurvive this by keeping your head down. Avoid as much as you can. Do not be brave. This is not a war of necessity or principle.”
    I understand—play along.
    Oma warns me, “Trust no one.”
    I know that her words are enough to have her shot for treason.
    â€œYou must live and you must come back to me, Vilheim. I have no one else. If you die, I die.”
    I listen to her and nod.
    It’s heartbreaking.

Chapter 46
    T he day I turn eighteen, the army reaches out and pulls me into it.
    Oma packs my favorite foods and tells me over and over again that she loves me.
    It’s terrible from the first day.
    The army crushes gentle souls.
    My poor performance during training is the reason I am sent to a place where no one wants to go. I take comfort in thinking that there are no good places.
    I am sent to Poland, so that we’ll be ready to move into Russia when the order comes.
    I dread that.
    When I arrive in Poland, I am sent to Sokal, a town I never even knew existed. It’s a small town, and that works better for me. Not far from town, there are pastures, which remind me of home. I know that I must never let my true feelings show, so I learn to follow orders with a serious expression on my face. My new commander thinks that I am a most conscientious young man. He’s reading me all wrong, but I keep it up.
    When I arrive, I am given the job of patrolling the ghetto. I really hate doing this because I am instructed to shoot anyone trying to escape.
    I feel like such an imposter.
    If I could set these people free, I would.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    O NE NIGHT, while I am patrolling the inside perimeter of the ghetto, I round the corner of a building and happen to see a man trying to slide under the wire. It’s too late for me to look away and our eyes meet. It’s dark, but we both know that we saw each other. I am about to bring my rifle down from blind training, but I don’t. I turn and pretend that I never saw him. A few minutes later, enough time for him to have made it across, I resume my patrol.
    I wished him well.
    I don’t know why we are holding all these Jews in this confined area. I never even met a Jewish person before I entered the army. It makes no sense to me whatsoever. How can a war be based on persecuting innocent people?
    Then, the orders come.
    We are to deport all the people in the ghetto to concentration camps.
    I hear that they will be executed there.
    It is sickening and I want no part of it, but there is nothing I can do—if I don’t want to be executed myself.
    That day is one of the most horrible of my life.
    There is chaos everywhere.
    Although most people are broken in spirit and just follow the orders shouted at them to get into the trucks, some try to run and many are hiding. Our orders are to shoot anyone trying to escape.
    One of my fellow soldiers says, “Just throw a grenade into the building if you think there are people hiding there. It’s easier.”
    I want to stop him but can’t.
    I feel sick and want to run away myself.
    I have to repeat Oma’s words in my mind:
Don’t stand out. Keep a low profile. Play along
.
    I run around and look like I’m chasing someone, but it’s just for show.
    I shoot high