A MISTAKE?

Petra Hadžidaova
Jul 7
3 min read

A soft gasp echoed throughout the barracks. Familiar hands reached up towards their owner's mouth, covering them to prevent further noise. Anxiety and soul-crushing worry marred the face of a young man who has seen and experienced far too much. The heat of the day and the pangs of hunger he suffered were not what was breaking him. It was the unknown fate of his beloved wife, daughter, and unborn child.

For a split second, he wished it were already day and instantly thought of the great irony. There he was, a couple of days ago, contemplating how pointless their work was, yet at times it gave him something else to think of.

Flashback

A bead of sweat ran down a scorched forehead toward a dirty, bushy brow. There, similar to its predecessors, it ended its path. Soon after followed another, and another … under this scorching heat, it was no wonder. But the sun was not what bothered the man. His hands were busy digging a pit. Yes! A pit. A pit for what, you may wonder. Well, that was what was bothering our still relatively young man, according to his years.

All of a sudden, an inner image of a man pushing a boulder up a hill, only for it to roll back, entered his mind. “Wait”, the man thought. “I remember reading about this. Gods punished some guy. As punishment, he had to roll a boulder up a hill, but it always fell back. Who was the guy again?” he further pondered. After a while, the answer came to him: “Sisyphus”.

That Greek story may have been only a myth, but our hero was being hit by a realization. In this modern day and age, here he was reliving a myth of ancient times. With each scoop of the shovel, they came closer to finishing their assignment. And in all reality its destruction. In this camp, under the guards from hell, digging up pits could only mean a couple of things. The majority were covered up after being finished. And they? They were assigned to dig up another. They were like modern replicas of Sisyphus. Assigned to labor in vain.

Dig, dig, and dig.

Dig, dig, dig!

'Irma..., my love, ' he thought, then his thoughts involuntarily went to another memory. He still remembered it as though it had happened yesterday. Everyone gathered around a small podium; upon it stood a notorious figure.

There he was, appearing tall, though to our young hero, he looked quite small. All listened attentively to his speech, to what he preached. The young man couldn't quite agree. When all hands lifted up to salute him, his remained at their sides.

Now, years later, he wondered if it was a mistake. But then, how could he stand and salute one who wanted his beautiful wife and her people gone?

An almost silent call disrupted his line of thought: "August. Are you awake?" asked one of his fellow prisoners. A newcomer who still had spirit in him.

He remained silent, pretending he was asleep. He went to his third favorite task - reminding himself of who he was. If not careful, one could lose oneself in a place such as this.

'August.'

'Yes. August Landmesser. That is who I am.'

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