creating a world

[Mr_Hursh]

Its on purpose. Wanted people to make the connection.

Oh. Well in that case...

 

[Jane_the_Bane]

Changing the last letters in a word can help too , if I may add. All eight Unity Generals have a base in my story, each one is named after a Nazi death camp to show how evil they are. ex. Aushwitz and Triblinka, I just added -en to each one and presto! The Death Claw now rules from Aushwiten and Dread Shadow rules from Treblinkanen.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... no, sorry, but...HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Hoo, hoo, hoo... I can't breathe, I can't breathe!

 

[Mr_Hursh]

Your laughter intrigues me...

 

[Jane_the_Bane]

I had to choose between utter dejection and boundless mirth, and figured that I'd prefer the latter in spite of its rudeness.

It's almost shocking to see that the horrors of the past century are invoked to show just how EVIL "the Death Clan" is. That's such an insufficient and shallow perspective that it almost frightens me in its simplicity.

(For the record: my grandfather barely survived the atrocities of the 3rd Reich, and my family was greatly diminished, suffering enormously due to Hitler's reign. But to shrug it all off by saying: "Oh well, they obviously did it because they were the villains" fails to encompass the TRUE horror of those times.
The Nazis weren't demonic entities or evil space aliens. They were human beings, and in their HUMANITY lies the genuinely scary aspect of those days. We cannot push them away, claiming that they are something entirely OTHER. Their monstrosity is greatly magnified by the fact that they were ordinary people, and STILL committed such atrocities.

 

[NeoScribe]

I apologize if I offended you in some way. If its any consolation, the Death Claw is a single person and his underlings are ordinary people who have made some seriously bad choices, you just reminded me of that actually. Odd how I never thought of the Nazis as human 'til I read this.

 

[Jane_the_Bane]

I apologize if I offended you in some way. If its any consolation, the Death Claw is a single person and his underlings are ordinary people who have made some seriously bad choices, you just reminded me of that actually. Odd how I never thought of the Nazis as human 'til I read this.

Oh, it's not that odd. Almost every movie about those times only shows us sneering henchmen with a barking voice and a permanent scowl, committing atrocities offhandedly.
They don't have a name, they don't have a personality, they don't have a history or family. They are just "the Nazi" - which works well enough and is all that you need for the context of the average film, in fact. You cannot bother to give depth to your cannon fodder, after all, and you want the audience to feel that they deserve what is getting to them (which they did anyway, at least those who were involved or even fully aware of the atrocities that were committed).

But once you reach deeper, once you go beyond the surface and delve into the dark heart of the matter, true horror waits.

Imagine Gerda Schütz. Gerda was born in Bavaria in 1924. Her father has been crippled in the trenches of WW1, and is an embittered veteran who just cannot believe how miserable his life has become. He is a staunch patriot, intensely proud of his country, and still cannot understand that all has led to utter defeat. But then, there's the story of the dagger thrust: some of his fellow soldiers claim that Germany didn't just lose - it was betrayed from the inside, by Jewish conspirators who wanted to topple the Emperor and seize power for their own sinister plans. And why shouldn't he believe that this is true? He's lost his job, and the economy is collapsing, but all around him he sees Jewish lawyers, doctors and bank managers living comfortably.
So he teaches his daughter from an early age on that she must never forget what those traitors have done to the Best Country In The World and its People. It's a family of proud Germans who sing the national anthem whenever they go to the stadium to watch a football match, standing up and touching their heart with their right hand: "Unity and Justice and Freedom for the German fatherland. Germany, Germany above all."
The nation of poets and thinkers. The country of Goethe, of Kant, the country that gave birth to the automobil, the printing press and so many other achievements. And it lies in ruins. (They won't mention Marx, the evil Jewish communist who started the whole mess that led to the treason of 1918.)

The Nazi party promises them everything: they want to redeem the injustices of the Great Defeat, undoing the damage caused by the pact of Versailles and bringing Germany to the top again.

But when Hitler has just been voted Chancellor, a Jewish anarchist burns down the house of Parliament! Revenge! Retribution!
So Gerda and her father cheer when Hitler declares that he will seize power and dismantle parliament. After all, it was just a debating club that could never arrive at a conclusion because there were too many dissenting voices. Now, the nation stands united, led by One Strong Voice. (to be continued)

 

[Jane_the_Bane]

Gerda is 11 years old when the Nuremberg laws are passed, effectively making Jews second-class citizens. Her father loudly praises this at home - he sees it as a sign of Justice, a belated retribution for the damage done to him by the scheming traitors. No longer will the Germans suffer while the viper that has fed at their breast prospers!
But Gerda doesn't just hear this at home. It's also what she's taught at school, and she feels a deep sense of hatred and resentment towards the Jews who have crippled her father and the country. Her teachers tell her that the Jews are an inferior race, a parasitic species that feeds on the strength of nobler men, prospering while its unwilling host becomes emaciated.
Aged 14, she joins her father during the "Reichskristallnacht", vandalising Jewish property. It feels good to DO something at last! The traitors must pay for what they've done! She watches the Jewish moneylender, a hook-nosed wretch who always charged her father too much, even though he knew that her family was almost starving. Now the miscreant is kneeling in the mud, wailing while the flames consume his miserable little shop. And Gerda feels a deep sense of satisfaction. Her family has been humiliated, and now she'll make them all PAY.

After school, Gerda attends the BDM, the Nazi version of the girl guides. They sing patriotic songs, celebrate together, march in rank and file, and it pleases her enormously. She's part of a larger whole, and the sense of comaraderie, of BELONGING, is pure bliss. They are all friends here, united by a common ideal, good German girls sitting around camp fires and feeling that a bright future is waiting. And they will work to bring it about!

She falls in love with a boy, Hans Meyer, a slightly introverted adolescent with a melancholic smile and eyes that seem to pierce Gerda's very soul. She never approved of other girls having casual flings, but this is something different. There is a deep bond between them, and they know that they want to spend the rest of their life together. He is not a Nazi, and sometimes, he seems to be troubled by what Gerda tells him, although he never says a thing. But even that cannot trouble her in her determination. They marry in 1941, a few days before Hans is sent to the Eastern front. She's intensely proud of him! He'll fight for their country, and return a decorated war hero - and then they'll settle down and raise a bunch of beautiful children!
Five months later, she receives an official letter. Hans has died at Stalingrad, although the letter doesn't say how. She'll never see him again.


At 19, Gerda is approached by some of her girl guide friends. They know how dedicated she is, and they offer her a job - top secret. They say that it won't be easy, but that she will be able to contribute to Germany's final victory significantly. Gerda agrees at once.
She is sent to Poland, to a little village called Auschwitz. The sight shocks her at first: emaciated prisoners, new convicts arriving in trains all the time. The misery, the dirt, the stench of fear and death. But then she remembers that these people are JEWS, and she forces herself to keep going in spite of her sense of horror. Her task is easy: she has to attend to the children that arrive with the new trains, playing games with them and keeping them occupied until the gas chambers are ready for them. She watches their little faces. They are troubled by their surroundings and yet oblivious to the death that awaits them within a few hours. Sometimes she's horrified of herself, but then she remembers once more that these are the traitor's children, the next generation of parasites that would threaten her well-being if she allowed them to live on. And then she convinces herself that there is something sinister about their faces, a shifty look, something that reminds her of caged rats. Revulsion grasps her, but this time, it only helps to strengthen her determination. Smiling, she orders the children to line up in twos, seizing the hand of a child and waiting for the others to form a queue behind her. She tells them that they will take a shower now, and see their parents again afterwards. The gas chambers are waiting.

 

[NeoScribe]

Who is Gerda? She reminds me of someone in my story. (Not a villian by the way!)

 

[Jane_the_Bane]

I just made her up. An impromptu invention.

 

[Jane_the_Bane]

Can you see that the very mechanism that allows us to see the Nazis as mere villains is exactly what allowed THEM to commit atrocities?

Dehumanization.

 

[NeoScribe]

Love the sinner, hate the sin.

I suppose many of us have forgotten that. Please except my apologies.