Lilly Kikendall A Holocaust Testimony

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Lilly Kikendall A Holocaust Testimony
Years of War
A weekly look back in time to the events that changed our world.
Volume V, Issue XX
Lilly Kikendall
31 January, 2013
Price: free!
A Holocaust Testimony
“Violence is never the answer,” says my mom. I think to myself, what part of that
sentence did the Germans not understand? Why did they make others suffer for no good reason? How come the
world doesn’t treat all people the same because we all are the same in a different way? Obviously, they never took
just one second to think about what they were doing, and the horror they were causing. It would be terrible just
hearing the cries of the children and the yells of the men and women that were being tortured. I can’t even
imagine how many times worse it would be to wake up every day in the morning,
and think; this could be my last day.
Since before I can remember, I have always loved history. I have read
many holocaust testimonies and none have really grabbed me and kept me
reading. That is, until I read the story of Solomon Radasky’s experience. He was
born May 17, 1910 and raised in Warsaw. He lived with his mom and his dad, two
brothers, and three sisters. After the holocaust, he was the only one in his whole
family that had survived. His mother and sister had been together. The Germans
demanded all furs and jewelry, and his mother said she had none. The Germans
shot both his mother and his sister. His father was killed in April, 1942. He went
to buy bread from the children in the ghetto. The Germans thought he was taking
it from the children and shot him in his back. His other four siblings were
deported to Treblinka, and Mr. Radasky never saw them again. After a few severe
months, he was at a work camp in Auschwitz.
They were given a striped shirt and wooden shoes to wear to their job. Before he went to work the next
day, he wanted to say “Goodbye,” to an old friend. When he was at the gate, the gatekeepers told him that it was
not safe to see his friend at the time. Instead of making him leave, they asked him what his job was. Mr. Radasky’s
job had been working in the gold mine. They told him that the longest time any worker had lived with that job was
no longer than eight days. One of the gatekeepers ran inside the building and changed his job immediately. The
next day, on the way to his job, the Germans demanded him to take his wooden shoes off. The only path that lead
to the jobs was a very sharp-gravel covered dirt road. He scraped his feet until they were bleeding. Some fell down
because their feet hurt so badly. The “Rules” were that if you lay on the ground for too long, you would be shot. As
weeks passed, he never fell, but his feet finally could bear no
longer.
Years of War
Solomon was shot in the right ankle. He knew that if
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he limped at all, he would be shot to death. Such torture the
School District, Washington State.
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Jews were put through. They forced him to watch Germans
Journalism Club Advisor: Mr. Bryan Dibble
grab children by the head and one leg and throw them into
By mail at Years of War
the crematoria alive. “There were smokers. I was in line to
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work and a German saw smoke. The soldier asked who had a
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cigarette. No one answered. He said that 10 dogs would be
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hung. That is what they called us, dogs. I was being hung and
beaten when another soldier came up and said that I
couldn’t die. He needed 750 dogs alive and I was one of them. I was saved, but crammed into a train. I no longer
felt safe. After a while, we were slowing down. I looked out the window at a station expecting to see Russians, but
instead I found Americans. I reassured myself that we were safe.” Today, after the years have passed, Solomon is
married with two children, and continues to tell his story. This was the testimony that impelled me to action.
I chose Solomon Radasky’s story because it made me realize that no matter how mean, nice, weird or odd
someone is, we should treat them like they are the best thing that ever happened to this world, because God made
us different, gave us different personalities, and if you think you can judge someone for what they believe in, you
are wrong, and you obviously aren’t thinking things through. We are all human, and yes, we make mistakes, but
ponder over this thought “Why are we killing our own species?” Killing others is injustice. Injustice is caused by
bullies. When bullies feel small or insecure, they make others feel bad, so they want to make the others fight back,
and sloop down to their level. When I see injustice, I know that it needs to be stopped. I will try my hardest to keep
anything even close to the holocaust from ever, ever happening again. I also hope that you will, too.
Bunker Hill War Story
By Colton Redtfeldt
June 17, 1775 8:00 a.m.
We were huddled together, my fellow Patriots and I, mystified by the words being shouted out by
General Putnam. He walked back and forth with a slow and confident stride, across grass that was still wet with
morning dew. The General looked into the eyes of each man that stood before him, including myself, before
continuing his speech.
“I have no fear of the British and neither shall you,” his voice echoed over Breed Hill and into the ears
of every colonial soldier, “for what they gain in weapons and numbers, they lack in spirit and virtue. Us
patriots, we possess a quality unfamiliar to the British Regulars, and that quality is passion. Our passion for
freedom is stronger than any cannon or musket the Redcoats drag onto the battlefield. So stay strong men,
conserve your ammunition, and above all else,” Putnam paused briefly, and I felt my anticipation for the words
to come grow unbearable, “Don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes!” Our cheers rang louder than the
cannons that had been bombarding our makeshift fortifications since dusk.
I’ll never forget those words, whether my last breath is drawn today at the wrong end of a musket, or
years from now. General Putnam’s speech inspired hope, a hope that one day we shall truly be free from the
tyranny of the crown. I feel for the first time that I have a chance to survive this war.
1:15 p.m.
We’ve finally seen action. The first wave of British troops marched towards our position, bent on
conquering Breed and Bunker Hills. I remember every gruesome detail with an acute perfection, the memory of
this battle never to be erased from the depths of my mind. When the order came I jumped up from behind the
stone redoubt, aiming my rifle at the first unlucky blur of red that came into my field of vision. My finger
squeezed the trigger, painting the grass with the dark color of a man’s fresh blood. My eyes never left him; I
watched as he fell to the ground, clutching the gaping hole in his chest. His lifeless body was followed by those
of his peers, redcoat after redcoat dropped as the guns beside me roared to life, spitting death at anything that
lay before them. In the end, as smoke slowly drifted from the battlefield, we saw that we had won this fight. I
suspect more to come before the day is out, but for now
I am content.
2:45 p.m.
My suspicions were correct; more Recoats
marched towards our position, clinging to their muskets
as if doing so would grant them a life that saw long past
the battles of this day. Did they gain another hour, a
day, a fortnight? No, for this fray saw similar results to
the first and ended with British defeat.
Although another victory has been awarded to
the Sons of Liberty, I find myself unsure on whether or
not we can stand another assault. I ponder the
question as I sit here, leaning against the
redoubt and watching for enemy troops. Can we
keep going? I am positive that every soldier will
fight their best, but surviving two attacks has
left us little ammunition; many men go without
a bullet in their musket. The few bayonets we
have spread out amongst our tired soldiers
aren’t enough to save us if the British push
through and infiltrate our meager defenses.
Furthermore, where are our reinforcements?
Men and ammunition from Bunker Hill should
have arrived to provide aid, but we are left by
ourselves. The fate of this battle is unclear to
me.
These concerns weigh heavily on my
mind; our future is one that seems dark, like the
cloudy horizon of a day plagued with rain.
Every rainy day is followed by sunshine, so I
hold out hoping that my rainy day is followed by all of the happiness sunshine entails. I will fight with a passion
unseen by the world so far.
June 18, 1775 3:00 a.m.
Defeat; the word rings through my head like the sound of musket fire on the battlefield. We were unable
to defend ourselves when the Redcoats came, and because of this, Breed and Bunker Hill is now in their
possession. Seeing as our ammunition was nearly depleted, the British were able to parade directly into our
camp and slaughter our men. Tonight, many men have met their demise with a bayonet heaved into their gut,
and the last image seen is the evil grin of a Redcoat. Our loss is a tragic one, indeed.
I am ashamed, so much so that I fear traveling home to my beloved Ruth. How can I face her with the
guilt of this defeat fresh in my mind? I will - *after this point the journal’s script is worn out, left illegible*
The Accounts of Emily James
by Addie Erickson Historical Fiction
The first account of Emily James appeared
February 8th, 1940
in Issue 19 last week. Click the link below
“My story begins on a cold February
to jump to Issue 19 if you want to start with
morning in New York City, New York. I was
the introduction to this serial!
going to school to be a nurse. I was
taking my usual route to the college, but
http://www.selah.k12.wa.us/JHS/YoW/Years-of-War_2013-01-24_V5_19.pdf
before I could enter the wide doors a
small poster caught my eye. In bold it stated:
‘Trained Nurses needed for the war. If
interested please come to this address: 300
Carter Way, New York City, New York.’
So after class that day I took a Taxi Cab
to the address. It was a large office that
was used for recruiting soldiers. I slipped
through the door where many young men sat
waiting for their name to be called out. ‘I
Want You!’ posters hung everywhere in the
room, ‘Uncle Sam’ seemed to point right at
you. I walked straight to the counter and in the most demanding but, soft
voice I could muster I said:
‘Excuse me, but I was wondering if there are still nurses needed for
the war.’
In an obviously bored voice she looked up at me and handed me a
paper, ‘Fill this out and hand it to the doctor at the end,’ she said as
she pointed down the long white counter.
‘Thank you.’ I uttered as I sat on a long wooden bench.
I filled out the application in a matter of minutes; it asked me
stupid questions like they thought I was an incompetent two-year-old.
I stormed over to the doctor at the end and shoved the application
into his hands.
‘Is there anything else you would like me to do?’ I grumbled at the
doctor.
‘Yes, there is,’ I was suddenly surprised and taken aback by the
doctor’s German accent, ‘Right this way please.’
The doctor had thick round glasses, dark brown hair, and tan skin.
‘Y-you’re G-German?’ I said as I stuttered over my words.
‘Yes, I am.’ He said as he led me into a small examination room.
‘Sorry, I haven’t seen any German’s in a while since…you know… yeah.’
I said slowly.
‘I think some people forget that the first country the Nazi’s invaded
was their own.’ He said with a small sigh, ‘You can take a seat now.’ He
said with a smile.
‘I will start by asking you a few questions.’ He said.
‘Sounds wonderful.’ I said with a smile. He started by asking me the
simple questions like: How old are you? This went on for about 10 minutes
until all of a sudden he looked up at me ‘Why do you want to be a nurse in
the war?’
There was a brief pause then he added ‘Do you want help us defeat the
Nazi’s?’
‘No, no I don’t.’ I hesitated at
first, but as soon as I said the first
word the rest came trickling out.
‘Then, why do you do this?’ He
sounded very confused.
‘I want help people; I want to send
more men back to their mothers and wives
alive, not dead. I want to feel useful,
I’ve never been one to just sit and do
nothing, that’s just not in my
character. So, this was the
alternative.’ I finally felt in that
moment that I was understood, I could
say anything without being afraid of
anything.
‘You are definitely different, like
me I guess.’ He smiled at me like he
felt the same way, that he could open up
too, ‘ Well you told something about
yourself so it’s my turn,’ He sighed, ‘I
lived Germany all my life, my family
were farmers, but I had always wanted to
be a doctor. So I left Germany, about ten
years before it turned into what its
become. I was coming to America for the
promise of a better life. I went medical
school and graduated with a perfect
degree, I quickly found a job at a
children’s hospital and was living a
wonderful life. Of course this all
changed when Hitler took over Germany. I
lost my job, my house, and all my friends. I was now seen as the enemy and
life became increasingly difficult. I began to apply for every job in the
medical field possible, every time I was turned down because of where I
was from. Until one day I happened upon here, finally I was offered a
position as lead doctor. But you see, I am not mad at those people,
because I know that in human nature the enemy is always feared. They were
just doing what was natural to protect themselves and the others around
them. So I don’t blame them. Instead I find the goodness within them. I
guess that’s how we are similar, we don’t want to be mad or defeat others
who have wronged us, we want to be kind and help.’ He stared up at the
clock in surprise.
I checked the clock and gasped ‘Wow, I didn’t think we were here for
an hour. Time flies by way too fast. I said with a sigh.
‘Well it was very nice meeting you miss....?’ He slowly trailed off.
‘James, Emily James.’ I smiled sadly at him.
‘It was very nice to meet you Emily, I am afraid I never mentioned my
name either. But, no matter my name is Doctor Benjamin Austerlitz and I
hope to see you again soon. Sorry I feel as though I have been talking
this whole time.’ He said with a small, sad voice.
‘It’s okay. Sometimes it’s nice to listen to other people talk for a
change. Well anyway I should be going. Goodbye.’ I replied.
‘Goodbye.’ He added as I started to leave.
I walked straight out of the waiting area to the front door and on
the streets of New York. I finally felt as though I might be useful for
something.
Two weeks later I received a letter saying that my application had
been accepted, I would leave two weeks. I broad smile appeared on my face.
But, little did I know what I was getting myself into.
To be continued...
GAMES-------------Auraxis: Terran Republic
Based on the PC first person shooter Planet Side 2 By Isaac Nelson
On a planet far away from earth, three empires fight for control of Auraxis. There is the Terran
Republic, which have the most military experience and the most efficient vehicles. They choose bullets over
lasers. The first empire to break away from the TR is the New Conglomerate. They are the freedom fighters and
there weapons pack a punch. There vehicles are the slowest but have the most armor. The third and final empire
is the Vanu Sovereignty. This group found alien tech knowledge. They use laser weapons and batteries. There
vehicles use magnets to hover over the ground. These three empires want something on Auraxis.
“Ten seconds till drop,” said the pilot over the radio. “When
you get down there, find a squad. Don’t worry if you die, you’ll just
re-spawn back at the main stronghold. Good luck, rookie.”
Whoosh! The drop pod shoots out of the ship flying down
toward Auraxis. It lands on some Vanu soldiers and opens to a
massive battle. I quickly run towards some cover. Soon, some friendly
TR soldiers came running up to me.
“Hey, rookie,” said one. “Did you just drop in?”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“Stick with us and you’ll be fine,” he said. “By the way,
what’s your name?”
“Kent, sir,” I replied. “Rodger Kent.”
Lasers start flying by. One of the squad members got up and
fired back. “We’re going to have to push forwards,” said the first
soldier.
More TR soldiers run by to join the fight. I looked around the corner and fired at one. There were more
TR soldiers than there was Vanu. Our squad ran out of our hiding place and cleared the buildings on the sides.
We continued toward our goal. Some Mosquitos (TR specific air ship) flew over to take care of some of the
Vanu scum we couldn’t see. The main building was swarming with Vanu soldiers. We capture point C and got
control of the area.
We moved in on B, which was an easy capture. Our final goal was point A. This was the hardest. Up
high a Vanu infiltrator took aim. I saw him fire and then I was out.
I re-spawned back at the main stronghold. I felt woozy and dizzy. My head was spinning. I could see
someone but they were blurry. They began to speak. “Hey, are you feeling okay?” they said.
“What do you want me to do?” I said.
“Get back out there in the fight,” said the person. “You should jump in that galaxy that’s about to leave.”
I ran out to the galaxy and hopped in. They flew back to the battle that I was just. The Vanu still had
control of point A. The galaxy landed on a platform. Vanu soldiers started shooting at it. Are squad jumped out.
I switched to my rocket launcher, fired, and killed most of them. We all ran in. Some more TR soldiers came in
another way, bullets and lasers flying back and forth. Soon we over powered them with numbers. We captured
point A in a few seconds.
“Facility captured,” said our leader over the
walky-talky.
Now the only thing left was to conquer
Auraxis and populate it with people. No one was
going to stop us. The Terran Republic was going to
win.
Thank you for reading
YEARS of WAR. The
students in this year’s class
will witness a milestone. The
journalism program will have
one-million publish words
under our belts in about a
month’s time. These
students are really working
hard! Let them know how
they’re doing with a letter or
email!