Her Memory's Freedom Journey

The sun was rising over the Polish countryside as Jhosh, Edward, and Claude crept along the wall of the small shed. The early morning mist was beginning to lift from the field, but it would be hours before it would burn off and create a summer's day. Their aunt Luisa had told them that they were going to walk from her house in Czestochowa to Sulejwek. They knew that this meant a distance of two hundred and sixty-seven kilometers, or about one hundred and thirty miles. She had told them that they would need to keep walking for twelve days if they wanted to make it there by Christmas. It was now day three.

The boys had spent most of the night huddled together in the shed. Not even their aunt had been able to warn them that their former home would have collapsed due to an attack. Instead, they found themselves on the ground in darkness with only the stars above them and the sounds of Schutzaffel boots scuffing on their lawn as they searched through what remained of the house.

Jhosh was fourteen years old and the eldest of the group. He had taken it upon himself to make sure that his younger brothers stayed safe during this journey to Sulejwek. He was a tall boy with broad shoulders, dark skin, large brown eyes, and hair as black as a moonless night. A scar ran down his face from just below his left eye to just above his chin. This scar was a permanent reminder of another journey he took many years ago when he was just nine years old.

Edward was thirteen years old and the middle child of the group. He had soft brown eyes, curly brown hair, and pale skin that made him look like he needed more sun than he usually got back home in Czestochowa.

Claude was seven years old and the youngest of the group. He had silky blonde hair that fell just past his ears, green eyes, and fair skin like Edward's.

The boys left their temporary shelter and approached the edge of their property line where they could see what was left of their aunt's house across a wide dirt road lined with trees on either side. The roof had caved in under its own weight after being struck by what looked like a mortar shell fired by Schutzaffel soldiers during their initial search for survivors inside their home last night. The boys' aunt hadn't made it out alive either; she died when she jumped from her bedroom window in an effort to flee from those who would kill her without hesitation as punishment for having hidden Jhosh and Edward away from them for so long all those years ago.

A lump formed in Jhosh's throat as he thought about what happened last night when he peeked out from behind a curtain just before jumping out of the window with his aunt's diary clutched tightly in his hand. He saw at least ten Schutzaffel soldiers storm into their house carrying flashlights and automatic rifles, looking for any signs that people might still be inside hiding from them. They were all clad in light grey uniforms with flat green helmets adorned with red swastikas on both sides facing forward like open beaks ready to peck at anything that moved while they marched down streets searching houses like theirs throughout Czestochowa with white circles marked on doors indicating which homes were Jewish homes and which ones belonged to Polish Catholics whose lives weren't worth anything more than those who owned Jewish properties or worked for Jewish people, or sold stuff to Jewish people, or ate food cooked by Jewish people, or went near Jewish people or even spoke too loudly near Jewish people. All of these discriminatory beliefs stemmed from the Schutzaffel leader Adolf Hitler, who claimed Jews should be punished for crimes against humanity simply because they were born Jews, regardless of whether they chose to follow Judaism or not, much less whether they believed in God at all.

No sooner did Jhosh catch sight of Schutzaffel Captain Rudolf Schen marching through their garden gnome collection than he realized his mistake: Captain Schen carried a rifle in one hand while holding up a large metal detector contraption with another, aimed at different areas inside their garden where it seemed he expected someone might try to hide something. Being discovered would mean certain capture and punishment.

Jhosh quickly ducked behind a sofa just before Captain Schen spotted him and pointed an accusing finger towards him, saying he knew there was someone else hiding nearby. Just then, blood-curdling screams erupted upstairs where Aunt Luisa lay dying after jumping out of her second-story bedroom window upon hearing footsteps approaching her room, fearing her nephews might be discovered beneath her bed.

Jhosh watched helplessly as four men rushed upstairs, shouting directives in German and pledges of loyalty to Hitler while Captain Schen stood nearby, holding up his metal detector contraption, apparently satisfied with the situation.

It was in that moment that Jhosh understood the terrifying