(The use of this prisoner number falls back to an issue where the original drawer didn't know the numbering system of Auschwitz. It was changed later to represent that he was one of the original prisoners from Poland. Source sighting can be found here.)
"Prisoner 24005, step to the line!" The swiftly fading light saw an officer approaching the work group. Black smoke poured from a stack in the distance, while a group stood scooping piles of ash into the river. Schmidt, he loved to antagonize Max, to push him as though trying to find something of what he had witnessed. Max had no access to the power that had manifested itself that day. It wouldn't be till many years later that he understood his abilities were blocked due to hepatitis from working in the camp. Magda gave him a push, he couldn't believe he had found her here of all places. When he had been taken he hoped that she would escape his fate, finding her was a blessing and a curse.
Max stepped forward and toed that line. He was compliant, not eager to please but willing to listen and do as he was told if it would keep the others safe. To his right stood a gate that had been repaired, the metal barbed wire still held a few kinks from the mass bending that had broken the gate. Dr. Schmidt knew who he was"had done this previously but still he lifted the left arm to check the numbered tattoo. Behind him the other Sonderkommandos watched. He had been forced to clear the dead from the chambers where others of the unit had lied telling them that they would be showered and broken into work units. So many others had passed; of those originally taken he was the last remaining. They had succumbed to sickness and died painfully. The others in the camps considered them to be collaborators at best. He was ostracized, alone until Magda appeared.
The Germans preferred it that way, separated and not mourned when killed. And they had to be killed because they knew too much of what had happened to those train loads of people. There had been plans of uprising that had never taken flight. When rumors that the sondorkommandos were to be killed made it through the ranks, the Kommandos took it seriously.
"Prisoner 24005"order your crew to the line as well!" The machine gunner in the bunker watching over them turned the barrel of his weapon towards them. Max understood this would be the moment, just as he knew that he would be spared. Schmidt let the arm fall; he had marked the boy as a non target by his actions.
"SonderKommandos! Now is the time!" Grenades created from the very gas that was used for the genocide flew through the air at the bunker. The popping sounds and subsequent gagging from the machine gun nests gave Max a sense of satisfaction"perhaps even a sense of justice. The group free of the mounted gunners easily overwhelmed the remaining guards. Schmidt had retreated as he realized they were using gas bombs. Max began to issue orders, weapons distributed. The machine gun nests were allowed to clear of the gas before those guns were taken as well.
The group made its way towards the camp where it met up with another group of Kommandos. The two joined and made ready to begin the camp uprising. The prisoners however did not rise, leaving the kommandos with overwhelming odds. Their numbers dwindled, only a few managed to complete the escape. Magda had made it out Max had seen to it, the soldier aiming at her as she lay stricken on the ground, Max bringing his club down upon him.
Max woke with a start sitting upright clammy and breathing hard. It had been a long time since he had dreamt of those days. What could it mean, why now" A decidedly female voice pulled at his closed eyes. "Bad dreams?"
"Prisoner 24005, step to the line!" The swiftly fading light saw an officer approaching the work group. Black smoke poured from a stack in the distance, while a group stood scooping piles of ash into the river. Schmidt, he loved to antagonize Max, to push him as though trying to find something of what he had witnessed. Max had no access to the power that had manifested itself that day. It wouldn't be till many years later that he understood his abilities were blocked due to hepatitis from working in the camp. Magda gave him a push, he couldn't believe he had found her here of all places. When he had been taken he hoped that she would escape his fate, finding her was a blessing and a curse.
Max stepped forward and toed that line. He was compliant, not eager to please but willing to listen and do as he was told if it would keep the others safe. To his right stood a gate that had been repaired, the metal barbed wire still held a few kinks from the mass bending that had broken the gate. Dr. Schmidt knew who he was"had done this previously but still he lifted the left arm to check the numbered tattoo. Behind him the other Sonderkommandos watched. He had been forced to clear the dead from the chambers where others of the unit had lied telling them that they would be showered and broken into work units. So many others had passed; of those originally taken he was the last remaining. They had succumbed to sickness and died painfully. The others in the camps considered them to be collaborators at best. He was ostracized, alone until Magda appeared.
The Germans preferred it that way, separated and not mourned when killed. And they had to be killed because they knew too much of what had happened to those train loads of people. There had been plans of uprising that had never taken flight. When rumors that the sondorkommandos were to be killed made it through the ranks, the Kommandos took it seriously.
"Prisoner 24005"order your crew to the line as well!" The machine gunner in the bunker watching over them turned the barrel of his weapon towards them. Max understood this would be the moment, just as he knew that he would be spared. Schmidt let the arm fall; he had marked the boy as a non target by his actions.
"SonderKommandos! Now is the time!" Grenades created from the very gas that was used for the genocide flew through the air at the bunker. The popping sounds and subsequent gagging from the machine gun nests gave Max a sense of satisfaction"perhaps even a sense of justice. The group free of the mounted gunners easily overwhelmed the remaining guards. Schmidt had retreated as he realized they were using gas bombs. Max began to issue orders, weapons distributed. The machine gun nests were allowed to clear of the gas before those guns were taken as well.
The group made its way towards the camp where it met up with another group of Kommandos. The two joined and made ready to begin the camp uprising. The prisoners however did not rise, leaving the kommandos with overwhelming odds. Their numbers dwindled, only a few managed to complete the escape. Magda had made it out Max had seen to it, the soldier aiming at her as she lay stricken on the ground, Max bringing his club down upon him.
Max woke with a start sitting upright clammy and breathing hard. It had been a long time since he had dreamt of those days. What could it mean, why now" A decidedly female voice pulled at his closed eyes. "Bad dreams?"