He Who Will Take You Didn't I see you before? Your face all grim and grey, Back on that gloomy cold day. You stroke my hair and I immediately pulled back, I still had time left, So off you go back to black. Harrowing sounds from your side, Left my breathless body in fright. So, for now I'll stay, We'll meet again eventually, Perhaps then I'll leave as your prey. © Ceyda Gundogan 2013. All rights reserved
Berga an den Elster (part 1) Heraus! Heraus!' We could hear them scream outside the stalags. The work must have been going slow, because of all the deaths happening. People were falling down, due to scarcity of food and water. There was no clean water, we had to boil it ourselves. The filthy air of the tunnels make us even sicker. George died last night. I think it was the combination of both dysentry and malnutrition. I am writing this down, as we speak. If I ever get out of here alive, I want people to read about our horrible experiences, about what happened to George or Sal.. They should know about him, or at least his family.. I'll never let go of this journal.. Take a good look, Because this is your home now. Stalag XI-B, recommended by the führer, Slaves of the Reich, Disingenuity we do not allow. Stripped of all your pride, Your cries will be in vain For your misfortune you will be tried, This home will teach you pain. (More will follow about Camp Berga) © Ceyda Gundogan 2013. All rights reserved
The Bataan Death March, 1942 "I walk and walk.. I drag my feet behind my #lifeless body. I hear him say: 'no more..' He wants to stop, because he knows. I still keep on walking. Am I trying to survive? Why? It seems so very pointless, though I keep going anyway. He falls on the dirty ground and I know this, because he was not the first one to make that sound. The one they make, just before leaving this world. He was one of many who's #life ended on this road to hell." The walk of shame, they told me, This one, you could not foresee. Dry days will take your head, Better keep up, or soon you'll be dead. What fate will you choose? It may not matter, For mother nature too, will make you loose. Get up, keep on walking There is no time for rest. The Japanese will end your #life, It's not a game, don't put it to a test. Again, that horrible sound, When a soldier's body hits the ground. I told him to move along, To the heavens, he will now belong. Twice came the shots, I couldn't get myself to look, As a fighter he will be in my thoughts, And as a man of honor in the book. Cap's pockets were searched. The big guy found a yen, Anger again riddled this man. This time the horror was clear for me to see, The thing that no one could foresee. He swung his sword over my friends' head, The body fell on the floor with hands opening and closing spasmodically, Again, another one dead. © Ceyda Gundogan 2013. All rights reserved
Never Be Forgotton After a beautiful ceremonial day, the gruesome memories of the WW2 follow. First of may, that means in 3 days we will remember the parished and on the 4th day we will celebrate our freedom, for this was not given. My country doesn't forget, they will never forget. And as for my generation: Our elders made sure we never forget. And we too, will never forget! I remember my first visit to a concentration camp. It felt strange being there, just horrible, but more shockingly were the childrens shoes all piled up. The next couple of days I'll be dedicating my writings to the fallen heroes. "All the great things are simple, and many can be expressed in a single word: freedom, justice, honor, duty, mercy, hope." - Winston Churchill