People have many dreams which vary in intensity. Mine are like drawn out dramas that are like sagas with detailed plots, interesting characters, and colorful backgrounds. This is one of my dreams that left a mark I have never forgotten. I will say of this story; it does not have a nice ending, and while I have only visited a German concentration camp, Dachaw, a couple of times, the place and plot were not a manifestation of those visits.
It was an all female concentration camp far from any town, set in a forest and isolated. No other camps were nearby and rarely was there contact beyond the forest. The camp held 10 bunk houses for the prisoners and 3 main buildings for guards, main commander, and kitchens. Gardens were allowed for the women to grow and harvest our own vegetables. I had been in this camp a year and knew all the women, about 200 in all. I even knew and were on amicable terms with the guards since they did not rotate out of their assignments at the camp on a regular basis and only left to go home on occasional visits.
How all the POW women ended up in this camp seemed a pointless matter. We all pulled together to make the best of it and being women, knew how to work the system to get additional considerations. We were able to bath and wash clothes regularly, since discovering the commandant's phobia about bugs, germs and disease. The food wasn't bad, having convinced the guards that our cooking far exceeded the flat, tasteless fare their camp cook provided. We were able to obtain blankets and socks to keep warm. Rarely was anyone sick. Even on rare occasions, small groups of women with guards were allowed to go beyond the two perimeter fences topped with barbed wire to find wild strawberries and other herbs. Not a bad life, but still the guards posts and the lower weapons never let us forget that we were prisoners with no chance of freedom.
To be continued....
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Friday, January 1, 2010
Timeless aging
AGE is marked by the passing of time, and much like the ancient roads of Rome crisscrossing through western civilization, time leaves the marks of age on our skin and in our minds.
Slight evidence of the thoughts of only a few people will pass into the future and make an inprint as solid and long lasting as a stone engraved tablet, a towering column, or a paved road.
One definition of age is the length of time during which a being or thing has existed; length of life or existence to the time spoken of or referred to: trees of unknown age.
It is sad to think that many of us will pass beyond this earth, time will pass, and no one will even know we were here.
Slight evidence of the thoughts of only a few people will pass into the future and make an inprint as solid and long lasting as a stone engraved tablet, a towering column, or a paved road.
One definition of age is the length of time during which a being or thing has existed; length of life or existence to the time spoken of or referred to: trees of unknown age.
It is sad to think that many of us will pass beyond this earth, time will pass, and no one will even know we were here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)