The good minister has played a little joke on you. Not only did he find you a job in a cemetery in Weissensee, but even in a Jewish cemetery! You are responsible for keeping the grass cut and the weeds down, but there are no new graves to dig. You live in an old mausoleum, and while it is cold in winter, you manage without great difficulty. The SS is strangely superstitious and will not enter a cemetery; everyone else it seems to leave you alone, thinking you odd, but harmless.
In April 1945, the Russian army captures that part of Berlin in
which you are living. A squad of soldiers pushes you against the wall
and prepares to shoot you. You know only one word of Russian, and
you shout it out: Zhid, Zhid,
Jew, Jew. The Russian sergeant
doesn't believe you. We know that the Germans killed all the Jews
in Germany. You're lying.
But you strip off your coat and reveal the
yellow star you were forced to wear, now sewed to your undershirt.
Finally, the Russians believe you and let you go.
You settle in East Berlin and try to make a new life for yourself.
But one day, you overhear two men in a cafe: Damned Jews are
returning. I thought we'd finally gotten rid of those lice.
This bitter reminder of anti-Semitism is too much for you to bear. You cross over into the Allied zone of West Germany, eventually making your way to Israel. You will never again live in a country where Jews can be slandered or attacked in this way.
END