Jot down the first thing that comes to your mind.
Marta Voelker has been at Mauthausen less than a week. The rumor precedes her that she is here as a prize from the commandant of Plaszow to his colleague, Col. Hans Schwitz. Marta is obviously physically appealing and did come here among many other Jewish women from Plaszow in the last several days.
Going to bed with the devil
Now, she is summoned, not forcibly dragged to the Colonel’s joint office and living quarters. Marta and Sarah connected quickly. Both are young women about the same age. Both have family roots in Poland. A few days is not long to form a strong bond. For Marta, Sarah is probably the only one who treats her as an equal. The rumor preceding her makes her a prostitute to most other women in the barracks and therefore a lesser human being.
“If it keeps me alive and sane,” Marta admits.
“These SS men cannot be trusted,” Sarah pleads, “you could be literally going to bed with the devil.”
“He is just a man like any other man,” Marta rises to meet the Colonel,”maybe I can influence him to treat all of these prisoners better.”
“You are a Jew. He sees you as an object to bring him a moments pleasure.”
“He could have me tortured or even killed to refuse him.”
“I’d rather die,” Sarah declares. “Trusting him to save us, even spare you is foolish.”
He Is Unlike Anyone I’ve Ever Known
The trek from the women’s cabin across the courtyard to the officers’ quarters takes two minutes. She enters the hallway of the office spaces for all officers. Marta considers speaking with Col. Schwitz about working here as a secretary, maybe his personal secretary.
As her thoughts transcend from future possible plans to present reality, Marta looks up and sees the colonel flinging open the door which actually bridges the path from these offices aligning this hallway and his personal living quarters.
“Hello, Marta, you’re a breath of fresh air,” the colonel’s voice sounds tender and kind. “That drab dress wears well on you complimenting your form.”
She has heard many men tell her she is beautiful and sexy, but never with so much class. It causes her to blush.
“Thank you, Col. Schwitz.”
“For the next hour or so, why don’t you call me, Hans.”
“For the next hour or so,” Marta registers silently in her mind. She had hoped maybe she could stay over night so she could actually relax and sleep without hearing rats run, feeling insects or spiders crawl across face and limbs, or be awakened by groans, weeping, or screams from cabin mates disturbed sleep. Maybe I can change his mind.
He Likes What He Sees
A warm shower, a clean slip and for the first time Marta feels feminine. She tests her feminine charms by flaunting it in front of a real red blooded, physically strong male.
His caress shows Marta she is still beautiful. She is still human even after months and months of treatment like an insect or a stain on the Earth.
He is pleased at what he sees. He wants more of her. He desires an intimate human connection. She is clean. She is desirable. She is alive.
It Feels Like Love
Marta knows now Sarah is so wrong about Hans. He is a soldier. He has to obey orders. The tyranny, the hate and prejudice are the Nazi leaders. Hans is not that man.
Marta lay on his chest. His heart beats like any other man. He is muscular, not iron or wood, only flesh and blood. His love making was gentle, compassionate, and respectful. It may not be love he feels, at least not yet. But it’s the closest thing to love Marta has experienced in over a year.
Women despise her, talk unkindness behind her back. Prison men feel nothing anymore. Captors treat her inhumanely at best and like garbage every other time.
Marta caresses his face. She cuddles with him. Three words slips out. Maybe because Marta has experienced cruelty, injury, and death that she is so hungry for kindness, healing, and love.
“I love you” leaps out her lips from her heart that had lost its protective shell with the intense intimacy with another love-starved being.
Marta feels Hans body become rigid influencing the atmosphere in the room with a chill in the air.
“You will need to leave, now.”
His tone convinces her to immediately and silently rise, dress, and leave. She was hoping to stay the night, but maybe next time.
The two minute trek back to the cabin becomes a long, painful walk of shame. She suddenly feels dirty and guilty. Most of the cabin mates are awake and every judgmental eye fixes on her. She cannot look at even Sarah. She lays down on her bunk her face to the dark, dusty wall and her back to the mass of hurting humanity.
Pleasure is only temporary satisfaction. Her faith in her appeal is diminished. The feelings that were triggered by intimacy with another are now being forced into hiding inside a survival mode.
Categories: Holocaust Short Story
Douglas Knight
I have the rich life full of a sinner wounded by misunderstanding and punishment but blessed by mercy and forgiveness.
Knight Writer 