Chapter 13: To the Shame of all Man
(This is the ‘liberating a concentration camp’ chapter. You’ve been warned.)
”Cursed is the man who dies
While the Evil borne from him lives on!”
-Abu Bakr, Muslim Caliph
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”You’re ‘Applejack,’ huh? That’s a funny name.”
“You think we’re gonna see some action, Applejack? I ain’t going home and saying the war was over before I got here.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if you were a pegasus? Then you could just clear this rain right up.”
Jackie looked irate, but Applejack hadn’t seen him any other way ever since he became ‘Sergeant Flynn.’
“Hey AJ,” he said, both a whisper and a snarl. “Is it just me, or do these new guys annoy the Hell out of you, too?”
”We’ve been walking all morning! Hey Applejack, any chance you could let me ride you for a spell?”
“You’ve been here since D-Day? How many Germans have you bagged?”
A second’s pause, and she shook her head. “It’s just you.”
He grinned. Jackie was no stranger to sarcasm. “That’s what I thought. I swear, we were never this dumb.”
Flynn’s little unit wasn’t considered to be on ‘combat duty,’ so they had always been last in line for replacements. Only now, well past any use they could be, had fresh troops from the States been bequeathed to them.
Applejack could’ve really done without.
“’Got sort of a soft spot for Mohammed,” she conceded, wanting to focus on the positive. “He’s quiet. Saw him standing with Big Lee and Macintosh, the three of ‘em just silently enjoying the silence. Kinda cute, in its own way.”
Jackie made a face. “Mohammed? Hmph. Don’t know if I trust him.”
That got a blink from Applejack. “Huh? Why not?”
“It’s just…ah, never mind.” The human spat to the side. “He’s different, you know?”
He continued quickly, before Applejack could give one of the many comebacks that sprang to mind. “Anyway, AJ, I got good news. We’re actually gonna be doing some construction work. You know, what we were supposed to be doing from day one. ‘Bout a dozen miles down the road, we’ll be building some temporary shelters. Cut some wood, dig latrines, get the rain off people’s backs.”
Some hard, honest work. Good. She nodded deftly.
The new kids’ll probably whine like there’s no tomorrow.
“Any idea who for?”
Applejack asked the question distractedly, not really interested in the answer. Hopefully some refugees or wounded folks. Hopefully not some general who doesn’t want to get his boots wet. Either way, wouldn’t change the job much.
What caught her attention was the hesitation. Jackie glanced at her and smiled a little, nervously. For just a moment he was the trembling corporal again, and not the irate sergeant.
Applejack gasped. That nervous pause told her everything. Strange that she hadn’t thought about it for months. Lost in her own troubles, she had forgotten the reason she was here in the first place.
“Concentration camp,” Jackie said simply. “Your people.”
----------
Less than a quarter of those gathered at the campsite were ‘her people,’ as it turned out. A few dozen hornless unicorns out of a few hundred prisoners.
Skinny humans in striped pajamas, and skinny Equestrians leaning against each other for balance. None of them were smiling. None of them had anything to say. When Lee called out for them to gather in groups of ten, they mutely obeyed.
Applejack didn’t really have anything to say either. So she got to work.
Made her feel…good and bad, at the same time. Good to be here for them. Bad that she wasn’t as thrilled about it as she should be.
Applejack grunted, glancing up from the latrine she was digging. What was wrong with her? This was the whole reason she was here. These hungry, beaten ponies who had forgotten how to smile. Shouldn’t she feel…accomplished? Maybe not ‘happy,’ but at least satisfied that she was helping them?
But all she saw was a job to do. A good job; a dang good job that would give them something they need. But that was it. A job. There’d just be another one after this.
She remembered how ripped up she was when she saw those pictures in the Ponyville Express. How she hid them from Applebloom. How she ran off into the orchard so the little one wouldn’t see her cry.
Manny’s face entered her mind, and Applejack gave a wry smile. ’Guess it’s easy to feel sympathy when everything’s okay. When you’re thinking about the dead and wondering if you’re next…it gets a little harder.
The war was over. She could still be next to die, sure as sure. One of the new kids had stepped on a mine yesterday.
Climbing out of the hole, she saw the Americans were avoiding eye contact with their charges. That made it easy. Tell yourself that you were the good guy, that you were helping. But don’t look too hard. Don’t think too hard about it.
Applejack grit her teeth. That wasn’t her way. If it was, that habit ended today.
The camp had been liberated by a recon company earlier that day. Their lieutenant was handing responsibility off to Jackie as fast as he could.
“Scared of the truth,” she grunted with more than a little contempt.
Then, an internal reprimand. Where do you think he’s going? Maybe into harm’s way, while we sit here and play the hero.
“No I can’t stay and help!” The lieutenant snapped. “We already wasted too much time waiting for you guys to catch up! Only reason I stayed in the first place was to keep things from getting ugly between them and the villagers.”
Jackie snapped right back, heaving twice as much bile. “What, you’re too good for a little work? Why not just keep ‘em in there?”
He gestured to the barbed-wire prison. Wooden longhouses and guard towers, all still in perfect shape. Even the fence was intact. When the guards fled, the prisoners…never quite thought to break out. The recon guys had to herd them outside.
Applejack blinked. It was a good point – why not just use the camp?
The lieutenant shook his head again, this time with fear rather than hurry. “Oh, Hell no. I ain’t going back in there, and I ain’t asking any of these poor suckers to go back, either.”
A short moment passed, Jackie taken aback by the abrupt horror in his voice.
“It ain’t fair,” the man snorted his nose loudly. He looked away, trembling slightly. “It just ain’t fair. Typhoid or the Flu or something hit this place like a hammer. I mean, just, just…puke and shit all over the floors. Guards never did nothing with the bodies, just left ‘em there. Any prisoner who touched ‘em got killed, so everyone had to just let the bodies sit. Twice as many as survived. In the sleeping rooms, out in the mud…”
He pointed to one of the towers, bringing his arm high to try to hide his face. Applejack pretended not to see the tears. “You know what they say? They say this was one of the good camps, where you died slow rather than fast. Jerry never did nothing with the prisoners, except when a few Nazis made rounds on the unicorns. But one of the guards played this game…shot someone, but just wounded him. The one who got killed for real was the first one to try to help.”
A bitter laugh clawed its way from his throat. “They say the bastard got in big trouble when he shot a unicorn. But you know where he is now? He’s in some town, somewhere. Wearing his lederhosen and spinning a story about how he just goddamn loves America.”
He made his escape then, getting back to the war he knew.
Jackie sighed, glancing back to where the others were setting up tents and cabins. He was shaken, but still in control. “God, it’s hard enough to work with the living ones…think anyone’ll volunteer for some grave digging?”
The farm mare swallowed hard. Don’t look away. This is the truth.
“Me.”
Applejack wondered if Jackie would question her, but he just nodded and waved her on. “Looks like you’ve got your job for the day.”
----------
Following Applejack’s lead, a few of the others started helping out with the burials. Maybe they were stubborn like her, or maybe seeing her shamed them into it. Strange to see Fred among their number…the boy was stronger than she thought.
A horrible place, inside that fence. Spring mud and no maintenance had turned it into a swamp. At least most of the bodies were dry in their beds – the starving and the sick who had curled up to die. The ones outside, half-swallowed by the mud…those would be the ones that gave her nightmares.
At first, Applejack took her time. Tried to memorize every face. Tried to recall the little details. Even for the humans. They were the victims, too. Gave them each their own little grave.
She got through about six before realizing she’d be at it for months at this rate. There were far and away too many.
Nothing else for it. She picked up the pace. Dragged them out of the longhouses and into a ditch. Nasty, muddy work. Pushed them onto a canvas to pull, rather than touch them with her mouth.
She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t people she was dragging around. Just empty shells. The person in each was long gone – who knows where, but not here anymore.
Couldn’t help it, though. They were people, dead or no. She couldn’t take the time to remember every face. But she did apologize to each one for the rough handling. Made her feel a little better.
The last one Applejack moved flipped over as it fell into the ditch. Human woman. More maggots than backspace left to her.
Applejack veered her head to the side before throwing up. None of her lunch ended up in the ditch. It made her strangely proud. These poor souls had enough indignity heaped on them.
She spat out the remainder and shook her head. Back to work. Gotta get back to-
A hand gripped her shoulder. Jackie, and next to him was…
“Derpy?” Not who she was expecting.
“B-b-brought your mail,” the postmare stammered, completely out of place in the muddy graveyard. She was shaking so hard her teeth were chattering. Head swaying slightly, one eye fixed on Applejack’s ditch. Pawing the ground like she was ready to bolt.
Then bolt! “Derpy, y’all get out of here before you pass out on me.”
“Had to see it,” Derpy returned, breathless. “Heard some people say the pictures were fake. P-proga…proda…propaganda. Lies to get us involved. Had to see it.”
Rumors. This army was full of them. Applejack grunted, adopting her best ‘big sister’ voice. “Well now you have, so you be getting yourself gone. Ah’ve work to do.”
“Let me help!” The pegasus squeaked.
That got an incredulous look from Applejack, but it quickly faded to a gentle smile. Derpy was scared out of her wits. Knees knocking. Smelling that terrible filth-smell. Mind reeling at the senselessness of it all. Ready to hurl and pass out, maybe not in that order.
And through all that….all she wants to do is help. Applejack was damn proud of her. She’s everything that’s right with Equestrians.
Still with her best ‘in charge’ voice, Applejack nodded. “Then you get yourself to the folks outside. See what needs doing for the people who can still be helped. You leave these ‘uns to me.”
Derpy nodded, giving a wide grin. Applejack hadn’t shooed her away. She could help, just…not here.
Jackie snorted gently, giving a quiet grin as the pegasus retreated. “Damn, AJ, you’re good with kids. I think we got room for another corporal, if you want the job.”
He probably meant it. The system would have other ideas. Applejack shook her head, drawing a shrug from the sergeant. “Figured. Good job letting her down easy, though. The last thing we need right now is a scene.”
“’Let her down easy,’ nothing. She’s helping, same as me.”
Applejack’s gentle, proud smile continued. “She’ll do good by someone. Stars only know that the folks still breathing need more help than these sorry sorts.”
“Hm. ‘Bout that.” Jackie jerked a thumb towards the gate. “I need some level headed people, and your name’s at the top of the list. Need to do a bread run at that village we passed. Didn’t exactly plan on feeding an extra three-hundred when I woke up this morning.”
A ‘bread run.’ Only one, creaky step above out-and-out looting. If the civilians gave up the food willingly, the soldiers would pay in scripts they could theoretically redeem later. It was just like any other business transaction…except the soldiers didn’t have to take ‘no’ for an answer.
Three hundred mouths to feed…mouths that had already been hungry for some time now.
Applejack’s smile fell, but didn’t entirely disappear. No, Sir. “No” wouldn’t be much of an answer at all.
----------
It was a scenic little German town, too small for the bombers to bother with. Probably hadn’t changed much in the last century. Not a Swastika to be seen.
They tried saying “no.” A lot of apologies and pleasant smiles. They said the village never had much in the first place. The bakery was empty, but a quiet bribe loosened an urchin’s tongue: The baker knew what would happen and dispersed the food among his neighbors. It was a small enough town that they all knew each other. Far better to give the bread to friends and neighbors than let it be seized for strangers.
With no luck in the shops, the soldiers turned to the houses. If they didn’t open up, Applejack kicked down the doors. Everyone advertised that their cellars were bare. Some were telling the truth. Others had sausages, hard bread and flour. The soldiers seized these without ceremony. No one complained too loudly, not with a gun in every American’s hands.
There was some crying, though, and begging. They didn’t lie when they said the village didn’t have food to spare.
One man, Applejack’s heart broke for him. He was on his knees, begging them to spare his larder. He had a pregnant wife and a baby, and a twelve year-old sick with the flu.
Poor man, it had to have killed him inside. Human men hated to beg, hated to look weak.
Applejack wouldn’t’ve believed Mohammed could get angry, but he made up for lost time then. He gave the man a savage kick, right in front of his wife. And then another, in the stomach.
“YOU DON’T GET TO BEG!” He roared. Even Applejack flinched away from him. “Not after what you people have done! Not even five miles away!”
“I don’t know anything about that,” the man groaned, guarding his stomach. His wife kneeled down next to him, shielding his body with her own.
Barely five country miles outside of town…and you didn’t know?
Applejack snorted disdainfully at the lie. Mohammed did more. “YOU LIE! YOU LIE BEFORE ME, AND YOU LIE BEFORE GOD!”
That was it. They took his bread and meat and went on to the next house.
Maybe there was something wrong with her, but Applejack didn’t feel too sorry after that. These people would be lean for a while. Good. Five miles up the road were some folks who had forgotten what food tastes like. The villagers had to have seen the construction, or went out for a look…
…Or heard gunshots when a guard played target practice.
She frowned. Did they just not care? Were they scared?
Doesn’t matter. Applejack growled the thought in her head. They did nothing, not one finger lifted to help folks who never did them no wrong. They’ll make it right. We’ll make ‘em.
Maybe we should have them come down and dig the graves.
Would that be justice, or just spite? Applejack wasn’t too sure, but she wanted it all the same. Bring the pregnant wife and the kids. Show them around the camp, at gunpoint if need be. Show them all what went on so close to their precious homes. Give the whole town a bitter dose of wisdom they’d never swallow on their own.
Let’s see them say ‘I don’t know’ after that.
The thought consumed her enough that she broke off to find Jackie. Maybe he could make it happen.
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i take applejack's side to
this cut's so deep my for me my grandfather helped liberate a concentration camp
3143045
It would be a strange coincidence, Sir, if your grandfather liberated the camp where my grandfather was held.
What really sucks is that one of the Jewish Holocaust survivors moved the United States, taught at Virginia Tech... then died trying to protect his students from an insane killer. :,(
Didn't something like this happen in Band of Brothers? (I haven't seen the series in ages.) Where there was a concentration camp just outside of the town the soldiers liberated that could be seen from the main road and could be smelled from town when the wind was right and everyone in town claimed they didn't know it was there.
And yet, at some point, you must repay hatred with kindness; else the world will drown in its own blood and bile.
It is a hard issue. I take the side of the soldiers and Applejack. If they do this, maybe, just maybe, "I didn't know" would never be an acceptable excuse again. Maybe people wouldn't lie to themselves so they could live one more day in peace and comfort.
Yet, they would live one more day. Isn't it to be better to be on the outside of a prison than on the inside? If you do what's right in this situation, won't you stand alone? Who would stand with you? If, all together, they stood for what was right, would there be a chance? Perhaps, it was better to simply pretend that the world is like it used to be, and death is not outside your door, that even he wonders at the atrocities being comitted.
one of my biggest rules in life is to always ask questions
the ss were really good at information control most civilians didnt know