I had a choice, to run and save my dear life or to take my stand, hold my Gewehr 24(my rifle in case you don’t know) up and wait to be transformed into a sieve by my one and only fellow enemies!
I felt remorseful for I was too young to die (at least according to me). I looked around myself. Heck! Some of these lads here were even younger than me. I was may be about 17, no one keeps a record of your age if you are born in a poor country and an orphan over that as toppings. Voila!
I prayed for half an hour to God to screw this old moustache who was the ‘Fuhrer’ of my blockhead country. You must be thinking then why was I standing there, why was I not running already. Well it may seem ludicrous to you but I felt a responsibility towards my only father nation in the world (maybe the Universe), I felt a responsibility towards these dumb chaps waiting for their funeral.
And now I feel even more plagued because this one page I had found and was writing upon with charcoal spread over the road, was about to end. I felt agony for not being able to finish my first and last say. I am leaving a little space below to write down the information regarding my survival, but if I didn’t……….
Well you know.