“Heil Hitler!” I saluted my friend, Ralph. 

       “Heil Hitler! Hi, Jack!” Ralph bellowed slightly too loudly in his ebullient voice. Our crisp Hitler Youth suits made us look identical and smart under the fading Dresden sun. The leaves of the Douglas Firs wavered on its branches, then finally falling, like a tiny pebble rolling off a cliff. The sudden yelp of vendors on the streets made me snap out of my fantasy.

       “Let's go,” I insisted. It was getting late, and school was about to start at 12:00 PM. We elbowed into the street. Ralph stuck out his tongue and spit in the face of a woman wearing the Star of David. I elbowed a man wearing the same thing; he turned around and glared. I was startled but immediately covered up and glared even harder back. Who was he to disrespectfully look at a member of the Hitler Youth? I stuck out my tongue and spit all of the spit I had into the face of the scrawny man.

       The light, fall breeze combed my hair, delivering the curled up, brown corpses of what used to be flowers. Birds landed and left, leaving behind their peaceful chatter. A distant radio played the Heil Hitler Dir. Even though there had been many bombings on cities around Germany, there was still a bit of spirit.  The myth was that the Germans were somehow losing to the Allied Powers. All of this was nonsense. How could we lose? The thought of Germany losing made my blood boil. The mayor had said that it wasn’t likely that Dresden would get bombed because there were many refugee centers scattered around. Why weren’t people listening to their own mayor? I had heard many muffled conversations between Mother and Father about the occasion. I wasn’t worrying, though, because we had an excavated bunker in our house. We had a built-in alarm, too.

      My quiet walk with Ralph was suddenly interrupted by the school screeching like a hawk. It’s fine, just another fake attack. Ralph sprinted to the school, dragging me with him. I made sure he didn’t crinkle my suit, just in case we still had class later. 

       “Ralph, stop pulling! It’s probably fake!” I exclaimed, purposely stamping my feet to slow us down. Teachers were directing students to  bunkers. With no warning, Ralph’s grip was ripped away from mine, and we were separated. What a mania. I was prodded into a shadowed bunker, and the room was abruptly permeated with darkness. Kids sniggered. Teachers shushed. All I could see was the line of light coming from the gap between the door and the wall. It was calling my name. I stared down with petulance. There was no way that this alert was a real one.

       The line of light that led to the outside world gradually dimmed, leaving me with a pitch black room that smelled of sweat and lacked oxygen. Dresden was supposed to be safe. Prosperity was supposed to be Dresden’s motto, not war. Gradually, my eyelids rocked, pulling with fury, not letting me stay awake. My neck gave up on keeping my head up. 

       CRACK! POOF! My head bolted upright so fast that I nearly twisted my neck. Was that a plane?! The bomb was going to fall. I would be dead. Ralph would be dead. Mother and Father would probably be dead, too. Why is war so evil? Tears that hadn’t formed since first grade came to my eyes. My breath was a car swerving. I was scared my heart would crash and never start again. Every part of my body was petrified, including my breathing. Nothing fell, though. There was no heat up bomb and no explosion. The air was stuffy and awkward. I became restless. The cycle of anticipation repeated as planes kept zooming by. The worst thing was that the door to the bunker never opened. 

       Finally, after much suffering, the hatch opened, and we were told to immediately go home and seek safety. I glanced at my lavish B-Uhren watch. It was already 10:00 PM, and the city seemed unharmed. Since I couldn’t find Ralph, I ambled home. Adults chatted outside of their homes. Children that were too young to go to school played aimlessly. We all wanted a breath of fresh air despite the fact that it was pitch dark.

       Within 15 minutes of my dark walk home, I heard something highly disturbing: a popping noise. At first I thought it was those stupid kids trying to make me cross. Then, it was Father chopping down a tree. Finally, it was the sound of dispatching bombs. Everyone outside lifted their heads to the sky, trying to spot a flaming bomb in the midsts of the universe. 

       Then, something caught my eye. It was a barely seeable dot, shooting down. There was a slight bit of light added to the circular piece of projectile, which made it clear that it was there. Then, the dot disappeared, only to evolve into an explosion, firing up into a beam of light. My breath was caught in my throat. It was as if the Sun was crashing into Earth. The freshly plowed land was replaced with a fired up hole. More dots showered Dresden, the safest city in the world.

       Within seconds, the city was in a frenzy. All of the bombs that landed, I noticed, were firebombs, bombs that not only exploded, but also created a mass amount of heat and fire. 

       I dashed around, looking for a hiding spot. With each step I took, ten degrees were added to the temperature. I was nowhere near home! Sweat burned my body. Fire bit my leather shoes into ash. I bowed my head and ran. Roars rattled my eardrums unrelentingly as fires tortured me left and right. Fighting the urge, I stopped running and let the rest of my community stream by me. I was a rock in a gushing river. I thought Dresden was safe! The mayor lied to me! 

        Looking around, I witnessed the most frightful sight ever. People, young and old, were running for their lives. A grumpy, poor old lady that I had kicked in the shins yesterday collapsed right behind me. I didn’t see my parents. I was surely about to kick the bucket. 

       My shoulders shook uncontrollably. I dashed around purposelessly, trying to find a place that was safe to hide. Bunkers and houses were useless at this point. Although they could block bombshells, they couldn't block heat. I would die of high temperature, just like the people piling up around me. My vision blurred. I felt like a flying fish, struggling to breathe. My heart pounded as fast as a cheetah, and before I knew it, everything went dark.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

       “Close…that was real close. ” A withering mumble made me snap awake but immediately lay down from dizziness. 

       “Take it easy, buddy,” the somber voice echoed in what sounded like an enclosed room. An old man above me came to my vision. And then I saw it. The Star of David. He was Jewish. I gasped and started to try to escape. Panting like a dog, I was rooted to the ground, hands shaking and heart pumping.

       “T-t-there are bombs…,” I was at a loss for words. This was the worst case scenario. 

       “I am well aware of that,” the old man replied.

       We stayed in the basement of the old, creaky house, accompanied by only each other and the sound of bombs and planes. The old, Jewish man told me that he had spotted me laying on the ground when he was heading down to his bunker. He risked his own life and had run out into the thunder of bombs and rescued me from entering death’s door. 

        “I wasn’t afraid. I’m as ripe as an apple, anyways. So, child, do you know what you did wrong?” the old man asked.

       “What do you mean?” This wasn’t a school. What had I done wrong?

       “People are dying - mostly Jews. Many of them once had your spit on their faces,” the old man answered grimly. 

       I stayed quiet, ashamed. How did he know? Why had I spit in their faces anyways, though? The old man shook his head in dismay and turned away toward his tea. 

       I spent two nights in the bunker, barely getting any sleep. I came to learn that this bunker in which I was in was a very deep one. It was isolated below the old man’s house and was indeed heat resistant. When the old man had told me this, I sighed in relief but also smiled a bit in gratitude. I never knew Jews helped Germans. Jews are supposed to hurt Germans! 

       Gradually, the bombs stopped. The old man and I emerged from our hiding spot to find a stunning scene. Nothing was still in its regular shape.

       “Wow,” I mumbled in both amazement and regret.

       “We may be the only ones alive.” The old man pulled out a handkerchief and wiped down all the sweat and ash on his forehead.

      I walked home and suddenly realized that I had been lucky. Not only did I escape the bombing, but I had luxuries that others didn’t have. I had parents. My parents at least had a bunker. We weren’t poor. All of these had acted to my advantage. Why had I ever even assumed Dresden to be safe?

        I gazed across the city and caught sight of the limp body of the man that I had elbowed outside of my house. Oh no. I fell to my knees. These people didn’t deserve to be like this. Tears welled up in my eyes, and it was too foggy to see anything. This was not right; none of it. My mind was a tornado, thinking. I had been really disrespectful, I noticed. Not only did I spit in people’s faces, but I had disrespected myself, too. If bombs had started to fall when I was trying to slow Ralph down, I would have actually died right there and then. 

       Standing up, I felt stronger and lighter. I was going to do something about the injustice of Jews. After all, a Jew had saved my life. 

-Catherine Z.