Let Us Never Forget Bob Blundell (bio) In a secluded forest near the city of Krakow, a young sentry stood watch. Muted rays of sunlight filtered through the pines casting a pale light on the soldier, just a boy of 17. A tattered grey uniform sagged over his thin frame and the silver eagle on his helmet was faded to the color of dust. The emblem, denoting him as an infantryman in the army of the Third Reich, had once been a symbol of pride and honor. But those days had long since passed. Though it was early Spring, a biting wind whispered softly through the treetops, and he raised his collar and peered up into a morning sky turned murky grey. He felt the moist sting of snowflakes on his cheeks and closed his eyes, reflecting on more tranquil times. His mind began to drift and for a moment he could see his loving mother's face, the noble lines of age etched above her lips, and the gentle creases beneath deep azure eyes. But soon the image faded, and he returned to this place and time. He wiped a smudge from his watch and stared pensively back toward the camp below him, watching the soldiers scurry about in preparation. Soon the trains would come, and the madness would begin. A tall SS colonel, hardened by years of combat in north Africa, strutted from the comforting warmth of his barracks and quietly surveyed the expanse of rail tracks stretching to the south. He lit a cigarette with his right hand and exhaled, sending a blue plume of smoke drifting into the frigid air. His left arm dangled uselessly at his side and a serpentine scar snaked along the length of his jaw. [End Page 349] Both were remnants of his service to the cause. He had been selected for this commission because he had spent his life devoted to the fatherland. But more important, there was a harsh coldness in his heart that suited this task well. Thin strands of ice clung to the barbed wire stretching around the camp, and he seemed to regard this curiously. He stood in the early morning mist, pacing and smoking his cigarette, then tossed it to the ground and began to shout orders to the troops. The young soldier and his comrades moved to their assigned positions, and within minutes the ground began to rumble, and the mechanical grind of the locomotive pierced the air as it lumbered toward the camp. Suddenly the face of the engine broke through a silver fog hovering over the tracks, and it crept toward them slowly like a great beast. It's bones creaked as its weight was absorbed by the steel rails, and when it finally came to a stop, it uttered a loud sigh like a mournful mother. The soldiers quickly began their business of unloading the cargo as terrified screams filtered through the tired wooden slats of the cars. The victims, men, women, and children poured through the narrow doors and some stumbled to the icy ground to be trampled by those behind them. The officer watched this melee with no emotion, then strutted to the entrance of the camp and waited while the people were herded into two lines. As the innocents marched past him, he studied them carefully as a farmer would view livestock for purchase. The strongest would be chosen for a slow death through starvation, and disease. The rest would be ushered into the buildings for disposal. The first group of women and children were herded into the courtyard by guards brandishing rifles with bayonets. The wet steel of the blades glistened like teeth in the morning mist, and the terrified shrieks of frightened children filled the air. After they had been carefully counted, they were ordered to remove their clothing. They slowly disrobed, dropping their garments to the snow, and as their bodies were exposed, the soldiers laughed, shouting taunts and jeers. The women huddled against one another, covering their breasts, and shivered under an icy mist that fell like tears from the sky. [End Page 350] Towels and bars of soap were distributed to some, and they...