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Personal Narrative Essay: The Holocaust

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Being in the camps was horrible. They smelt like dead flesh and were as cold as Antarctic. Ever since I was a kid, my mum said I had a big heart and the camps had proved that. Even though I was on the Germans side, I didn’t support anything they were doing; it was disgusting, to say the least. The Germans would shoot the Jew’s as if they were wild animals just running around waiting to be shot. Their faces so stiff, that they no longer seemed human themselves. Days spent hearing cries of despair and sadness, all caused by one guy who believed that, this is what they had deserved. A human life being put in the hand of another. I hated it, and the worst part was being able to do nothing but watch on and see hundreds, thousands lose their precious lives. It was silly and stupid, an unimaginable experience that doesn’t even sound real. How someone could be that evil is something that I could never comprehend.

I couldn’t handle it anymore. I needed to do something to help the Jew’s, even if I may not be able to help them escape. I
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He was a very nice guy, an average person who deserved to live. He talked and talked about his wife Anja, I could tell by his eyes he desperately wanted to contact her. That’s when he had asked if I could pass on a letter to her, of course, I had said yes. His face lit up with happiness, as truly in that moment he was happy. It was as if at that moment all the guilt I had felt for the holocaust had gone anyway, I was a good person. Slowly all the bad memories started fading away, being replaced by the faces of those I had helped. I had admired them, all of them, the ones who had gotten this far and not given up because I would have. Yes, it was a risk and some people would call me crazy, but I not only helped multiple Jew’s hold on hope, but I was able to forget about some of the traumatizing events that I experienced. The Jew’s weren’t the only victims of the holocaust I was one as
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