A Martyrs Tale
Author Unknown

This story is based off the events of the Holocaust
during World War II. Not only were 6 million
Jewish men, women, and children killed, but so were
Christians and other people of different ethnic backgrounds.
This story can not begin to recapture all the horrors of the Holocaust.

"Lucas! Hurry up! You'll be late for school!"

Lucas jumped out of bed and ran to his closet. Pulling on some pants and a shirt, he ran from his tiny bedroom. He grabbed an apple from the kitchen. Pushing it into his deep pocket, he laced up his worn shoes.

"Have a good day!" his mother yelled after him, as he ran out of his house.

That September morning in 1939 was crisp and cool. Lucas ran as fast as he could. The teacher would not be pleased if he was late. Lucas sprinted to the intersection as fast he could. He waited to cross.

"Halt!" yelled a cold voice.

Lucas stiffened. Not now, he thought.

The Nazi officer patrolling that street jogged up to him. "What's your name boy?" he asked.

"Lucas Awswitz," Lucas said.

"Address me as sir, boy! Are you Jewish?" the officer barked.

"Christian…sir."

" Ahhh. One of the hypocritical Christians. You are no better then those Jewish dogs!" spat the officer.

Lucas's head sunk.

"Empty your pockets!"

Lucas slowly pulled the shiny, red apple from his pocket.

The officer tore it from Lucas's hand, inspecting it. "Is this your lunch, boy?" he roared.
Lucas nodded.

The officer grinned. He said, "It's my lunch now. Now get to school!"

Lucas ran across the street. The school appeared at the end of the road. Lucas knew he was in for it.

Lucas burst into the classroom panting. The teacher looked up from his papers. His eyes narrowed behind the thick-rimmed glasses. "So glad of you to join us Mr. Awswitz. Please step up to the front of the classroom."

Lucas cautiously stepped to the front of the classroom.

"Now, hold out your wrists."

Lucas shoved out his wrists, shutting his eyes tightly. The teacher raised a ruler high into the air, and brought it down hard on the boy's wrists, hard. Lucas winced at the sharp sting.

"Let that be a lesson to all of you. Mr. Awswitz, go to your seat and open your text book to page thirty-three."

Finally, after what the students called "cruel and unusual punishment," they were allowed outside. Lucas stood his back on a wooden fence. Three boys came up to him. Lucas glanced around for any nosy teachers. Seeing the coast clear he grinned at the boys.

"Got the stuff?" Lucas asked.

Each boy held out a peppermint.

Lucas's grin widened. He purred, "Today's prize is a black, neatly polished, buckeye. When the German scum patrolling the street walks by this fence, you'll try to peg him with a stone. Whoever hits him, wins the buckeye."

The boys handed Lucas their peppermints. Lucas handed each boy a stone and said, "Fire away."

As the Nazi officer walked by, each boy threw their stone, and missed. Lucas lightly tossed his own stone to himself. As the officer swaggered by a second time, Lucas threw his stone, and hit the officer in the helmet. The officer staggered off balance.
Lucas said, "Congratulations! I won a buckeye! Thank you for playing."

Popping a peppermint into his mouth, Lucas walked over to a group of his friends. He said, "Want to try and win a buckeye?"

Molly Reitzer shook her head. Her curly blond hair shimmered in the sun.

"Lucas, someday you are going to get caught by one of those officers."

"Relax, Molly. It's just a game. And we know I won't get caught."

James Fitzburg grinned. He said, "Don't bet on it, Lucas. Just a week ago I was chucking stones at this old guy. Turns out he was one of those Nazi Gestapo. He sent an officer after me. I could have taken the old guy, but not Nazi Boy he sent after me. Look what the ugly bloke did to my finger."

James held up his finger. It was twisted and disfigured. You could easily tell it was broken.

James said smugly, "If it had the old guy after me, I would have beat the tar out of him."
"Yes," said Lucas. "Then he would have shot you down on the spot. See James, it takes brains to create a plan and brawn to execute it. Brawn you have, but brains you do not."

James punched him playfully in the arm. Lucas winced as his entire arm went numb.
James and Molly both were Lucas's best friends. The three not only went to the same school, but the same church. Molly and James were also Christians.

"Why, look who it is?"

Lucas turned around. There stood pudgy Hector Alotofat. As bully, Hector and his goon squad had a reputation to keep. So, when the teacher wasn't around, Hector terrorized the other students. The students were mainly afraid of Hector's size.
"Well, if it isn't the Christian crew! Better pray that I don't beat you all up after--"
Hector paused at the sight of Molly. Suddenly his chubby face turned all red. Hector said, "Why Molly, aren't you looking lovely today. Why don't you come join my group, and leave these geeks?"

Molly's eyes flared a pale blue fire. Then she said sweetly, "Why Hector, I don't think I would fit into the group, probably because you take up so much space."

Outraged, Hector raised a pudgy fist to strike her. Suddenly, James stepped in-between Molly and Hector.

"That's enough you stupid bloke," said James sternly.

"Get out of the way Fitzburg! You're half the man I am!"

James looked Hector up and down, grinned, then said, "You're right! I am half the man you are!"

Lucas laughed at this joke made about Hector's size. Hector turned on Lucas, anger in his eyes. He swung his fat fist when suddenly--

"Hector Alotofat! Come over here right now!"

The teacher had caught Hector in the act. Hector hissed, "This isn't over between you and me Awswitz!" He waddled off toward the teacher.

Lucas snickered again, and slapped James on the back. The teacher called, "All students line up, right now!"

Lucas glanced at James and Molly quizzically. The still had about five minutes left. Why were they lining up now?

Everyone lined up quickly. Lucas stood between Molly and James. He glanced to the front of the line and gasped. Two Nazi officers stood there questioning each student who came to the front. As the line moved forward some students were sent to a military truck in the street and others were sent back into the school. Soon Lucas, Molly, and James had reached the front. The first officer asked Molly some questions. Molly answered them quickly as possible. The first officer glanced at the second. The second officer pointed towards the school. Molly went into the school without saying another word.

Lucas now stood at the front of the line. He suddenly realized the second officer was the one that had stopped him that morning!

"Name?" said the first officer.

"Lucas Awswitz."

The second officer grinned and pulled out the shiny, red apple. He took a gigantic bite from the apple, spraying the sweet juice everywhere.

"Religion?" droned the first officer.

"Christian…sir."

"Do your parents agree with the Nazi cause?"

"No."

The first officer again looked at the second. Through a mouthful of apple the second said, "Head to the truck."

Lucas had no idea where he was going. He climbed into the back of the truck with several other students. Minutes later, James joined Lucas.

Lucas slightly cocked his head side-ways. He whispered in James ear, "Do you know where we're going?"

James shrugged his shoulders, wondering the same thing.

Lucas opened his mouth to whisper something else when he felt something press against his face. He slowly looked downward. The cold, black barrel of a rifle was pressed up underneath his chin. Lucas's eyes darted to the solider in the truck, which he hadn't noticed, and then back to the rifle.

The solider asked, "What are you boys talking about?"

Lucas didn't dare say a thing. He didn't breathe or move.

"Would you be plotting something sneaky? May you be getting ready to jump off the truck and run for it?"

"No, sir," said James. "We were just wondering where we are going?"

The solider grinned. In a sardonic tone, he said, "You're going to love where you're going!" He burst into a short chuckle.

The line quickly emptied. Few others joined them. The other two officers came back, and started the truck. The truck roared down the seemingly empty road. The acidic smell of smoke soon started to burn Lucas's nose. He glanced up to see smoke billowing from a street of houses. Lucas gasped when the realization kicked in. This was his neighborhood. The truck tore past Lucas's house. The house was engulfed in a blazing inferno.

Lucas jumped up and yelled, "Why? Why did you set my house on fire?"

The soldier's eyes glittered with malice, but he didn't utter a word.
"ANSWER ME!"

The solider shoved the barrel of the rifle into Lucas's chest, forcing Lucas to sit down. He hissed, "I won't be spoken to in such a tone you little dog! Now stay seated and shut your mouth!"

Lucas grabbed for the barrel of the gun. Quickly, James grabbed Lucas's arms. He yelled, "Lucas! Calm down! Your parents might not be dead! And…and if they are…they're in heaven."

The solider hissed, "Your little friend is right about one thing! You better watch your attitude, or next time I won't so compassionate!"

For hours, Lucas and James sat in silence. It seemed like the truck would be driving them forever. Finally the truck came to a stop at a train. An officer yelled, "All right. Everyone get onto the train. If any of you little rodents think of running, you'll be shot dead!"

Lucas, James, and their fellow students clambered onto the train with meek whispers floating around. As soon as they were all aboard the train, it pulled away from the truck.
In their train car, it was dark and cold. There was hardly any room to move at all. It reeked an unimaginable stench. Whispers fluttered about. Babies screamed. It was most unbearable.

Lucas sat next to James, not a word spoken between the two of them. "This sucks," said a whinny voice next to Lucas.

Lucas stared at the person in the darkness. The person glanced back. Then he hissed, "Awswitz!"

Lucas realized he was sitting next to Hector Alotofat. Before he could say anything Hector pounced on him. Hector sat on top of Lucas and started hitting in the face. Lucas punched Hector in his plump, round gut. Hector gasped for air. Lucas then punched Hector in the nose. Hector reeled from the blow. Lucas ended the brawl by grabbing Hector by the hair and smashing his head into the wall of the train.

James stared up at him. The slightest bit of fear edged into his eyes. He whispered, "Are you okay, Lucas?"

Lucas was calming down. He rapidly inhaled and exhaled air. Soon his breathing slowed to normal. Tears started to stream down his face.

James whispered, "Don't worry. We're in God's hands."

After two days of misery, the train finally slowed to a stop. The door was swung open. Light filtered in and burned their eyes.

A Nazi officer yelled, "Off the train! You will form two lines. Men in one line. Women and children in the other."

Lucas and James were unsure of which line to proceed to. Were they considered men or children?

James cautiously approached the officer. He asked, "Sir, are we considered men or--"
The officer yelled, "Don't speak to me dog! Get in line with the men!" Lucas and James went into the line with the men. They walked along a barbed fence. As they approached the gate entrance a solider inspected each person who entered. Lucas and James were at the back of their line. They finally reached the solider. He looked at Lucas and pointed into the gates. He looked at James and pointed to the other line.

Lucas gasped, "No." He broke free the guards and sprinted towards James. There was a loud explosion! A hot pain entered Lucas's leg, right below his knee. Through blurred vision he saw his leg bleeding. He'd been shot.

Lucas glanced up at James. James said, "See you later," and followed the line of women and children.

The hard butt of a rifle landed on Lucas's ribs with a crack. A solider said, "Get up boy! We got to get you all cleaned up and ready for work."

Lucas was escorted into the camp by two guards brandishing rifles. They took him to an officer. The officer shaved his head. Then they branded the numbers 675043 with a hot iron. Lucas bit his lip hard to keep from screaming.

The officer handed him a uniform and told the guards to send him to the barracks.
Lucas sat on his bunk dazed. An old man on the bunk above his said, "You okay, son?"
Lucas said, "My friend…he was sent with the other line. Where is he?"
The old man said, "He's in heaven."

Three years later:
Somehow Lucas had survived three years. He had survived through pain, suffering, and misery.

Lucas had changed. His skin was pale. He was a lot thinner. He was bruised and scarred all over. Only one thing remained the same.
His faith.

Lucas still hoped God would get him out of here. He prayed about that every night.
Lucas was awoken that morning with a harsh thunk on his head. He cracked an eye open. The officer stood over him with a club, ready to hit him again. Lucas got up quickly.

The officer said, "Outside, boy!"

Lucas stumbled outside. He stood with a group of others.

An officer said, "Start digging a trench…with your hands. I want it ten feet deep, ten yards wide, and ten yards long."

Lucas and the group started digging. Within ten minutes, they were covered with mud. It started to rain.

Lucas was digging slowly. He dug up another handful of mud. He glanced up at the Nazi officer, who was paying no attention to the work being done. Lucas brought his arm back and threw the mud at the officer. It splattered all over his tan uniform.
The officer gasped. He glared down into the pit. Lucas smiled sarcastically and waved at the officer. The officer yelled, "Boy! Get up here at once!"

Lucas went up to the officer. The officer said, motioning to his uniform, "Did you throw this mud at me?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to be punished for insulting an officer?!"

"Go ahead," Lucas said.

"Then follow me," hissed the officer.

The officer marched Lucas to a giant rock quarry. Rocks lined the steep walls.
The officer said, "See that rock at the bottom of this quarry? I want you to bring it back up here. If you stumble, drop it, or stop to rest you will be beaten rigorously by these soldiers. Now go!" Lucas prayed, God, I need your help now. He carefully scaled down the side. He grabbed the rock and started to tug it up the slope.

After about an hour, Lucas was at the top with the stone. A solider said, "Okay dog. Push it off the edge." Lucas obeyed. The solider said, "Now go get it again." Lucas gasped. He almost objected, but bit his tongue, and went back to work. After an entire day of that torture, Lucas headed to the barracks. He had been beaten several times. Lucas entered and the door was slammed shut behind him and locked. He looked around the bunks. Everyone looked defeated. They were worn and hurt. They had no hope. Lucas gritted his teeth. He said, "Everyone gather around. We're getting out of here."

The guard awoke with a start. There was cheering coming from the men's barracks. He strapped on his rifle and tramped out into the cold rain. The guard removed the keys from his belt, unlocked the door, and flung it open.
"What the heck is--"

Three grown men immediately attacked him. He pulled up his rifle, which was taken quickly.

Lucas sprinted out the door. He ran to the kitchen where meals were prepared for the officers and soldiers. Lucas grabbed a kitchen knife and drove a hole into the gas tank of the stove. The gas leaked from the tank with a sharp hiss. Lucas backed to the doorway with a box of matches. He lit one and tossed it into the air. The building erupted into flames.

Outside, it was worse than Lucas expected. People were being shot. The soldiers were defeating this small revolt. Then he saw a breach in the fight. Lucas sprinted fast as he could towards the barbed fence.

The ground next to him exploded! A solider had shot at him. Lucas leapt to the fence and started scaling it. The barbs cut into his hands, and Lucas felt the wet trickle of blood and rain running down his arm. He had hardly gotten two feet off the ground when he felt the cold barrel of a gun touch his neck. "Nice try, kid," said a cruel voice. The explosion echoed in his ears. Through his foggy vision he saw a figure standing over him. Lucas parted his lips and whispered, "Thank….y-you…..Jesus."