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Ethan Beaulieu
Mr. King
Pre-ap English 2
10, March 2015

The Night They Came

The soldiers stumble down the alley, their greenish gray uniforms decorated with an
assortment of beer and wine stains. They lean on each other to maintain some
resemblance of balance; as they do so the rifles slung over their shoulders clack together.
My mother pulls me close as they stumble into the street. My father stands protectively in
front of me as they near us. Suddenly, the soldiers point and shout at a hunched figure
behind us. The figure turns revealing his terror struck face. As the man turns to run his
cloaks falls from his shoulders revealing a Star of David badge on his right shoulder. A
soldier pulls the rifle slung from his shoulders off and starts to load it with clumsy
fingers. Finally the soldier succeeds and takes his aim. The barrel of the gun sways as his
shot and the muzzle of the gun flashes. The world slows and in a moment of shock I see
the bullet travel through the air and instead of hitting its target it finds its way to my
mothers body where it hits her just bellow her left shoulder, striking her heart. Shes dead
before she hits the ground.
I wake up screaming my hands clenched tight into fists. Its been three years since
she has died and I still relive the moment in my sleep. I crawl off my tattered mattress
and pull on my clothes. As I walk through our small farmhouse to the bathroom I hear my
fathers radio playing the forbidden British radio channels. They speak of heavy German
casualties and promise an end to this brutal war. I look in the mirror and see a mess of

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dirty blonde hair and a pair of pale green eyes set upon an angular face. I wash my face
and head over to the kitchen to fix myself some breakfast. I set out a plate but my father
plucks it away saying, You wont be needing that. I look at him confused then a smile
breaks out as he pulls a plate of eggs, sausage and biscuit from behind his back. Happy
birthday Mr. Frieden. His eyes twinkling. Youre officially sixteen. Soon to be a man
but for now still my little Schmitt. He says. I look at the food astonished. How could we
afford such a thing? Money was far and few between times being what they were. How
did you get this? I ask. I have my ways he responds with pride in his voice. This must
have cost you a fortune I mutter as I dig into the breakfast. The bread was a bit lumpy and
the sausage is a bit over cooked, he undoubtedly made it himself. Still, it is much better
than what we usually have and for that I am grateful. I bring the dishes to the sink and so
begins the days monotonous chores that come from life on a German farm.
My father and I pull on our overalls and lace up our boots before trudging out to
the barn. I fall into a state of half consciousness and complete my work more out of
muscle memory than actual conscious effort. Its around noon when the sound of
breaking glass snaps me out of my stupor. I look over to my father who is looking
intently at the house. What is tha- he cuts me off before I can finish with a harsh
SHHH. He slinks over to the other side of the barn and grabs the shotgun he keeps
close at hand, Just in case we see any rats as he always says. Quietly we make our way
over to the house as we do I see that one of the windows has been broken with a brick
which now lies on the floor inside. My father and I peer in through the window but see no
one. We open the front door slowly and wince as it squeaks. My heart pumps adrenaline
through my body and my mid searches rapidly for an explanation. Is it thieves? Are they

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here to rob us? If they are then theyre out of luck for our belongings are limited to only
the absolutely necessities. Most everything had been sold or bartered off long ago. My
father steps inside the shotgun ready to fire. We make it through two rooms before we
find them. As we turn the corner and enter the kitchen we see them. Two children stand
over the counter, opening and closing drawers and cabinets desperately searching for
something. The largest was a boy, no older than I. He has long black hair and was so thin
that his ribs jutted out even through his torn shirt. The second was a girl; she looked no
more than seven or eight years of age. Her clothes were much too large for her and was
just as skinny as her brother. On her back she carried a small red backpack with a filthy
stuffed bunny with a missing eye and torn ear. I stepped on a loose board and visibly
cringe as the boy freezes and whips around shoving the little girl behind his back
protectively. For a whole minute no one so much as breathes and the tension in the air
crackles. The boy breaks the silence and says, Im sorry we are just looking for food. We
havent eaten in days. Please dont call the SS. His voice shakes and there is fear set
deep in his eyes. My father slowly lowers the gun and says, You have nothing to fear
from us, if its food youre looking for then Im afraid you wont find much. We havent
had a full meal in nearly two years. He holds out his hands Adalhard Frieden and this is
my son Schmitt, and you? The boy shakes his hand weakly and responds with Abdiel,
this is my sister Adina. I see the boy more clearly now. His feet are bare and are covered
every inch in blisters making them twice the normal size. His body has been stripped of
any fat and muscle making him look like a skeleton, his skin stretched tight over his
bones. My father slowly walks toward the cabinets and reaches up and pulls down a half
loaf of bread then hands it to the little girl who has said nothing. She looks at the bread as

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if it were gold in her hands. Suddenly she leaps at him with a hug and for a moment the
boy and my father tense. After a second they relax and my father pats the girl awkwardly
on the back unsure what to make of the situation. I ask them where they are going. Abdiel
shrugs and says honestly, Im lost. You can sleep here if you would like my father says.
We dont have much but the barn will keep you dry and we can spare a blanket or two if
you need them. Abdiels eyes light up and he accepts.
Just then there is a knock in the door and an official sounding voice barks Open
up! This is Officer Kampf! Cellar, now. My father whispers urgently. The officer
continues pounding on the door so my father runs over and opens it. What can I do for
you Mr. Kampf? he says with an exaggerated smile. Theres been a reported sighting of
two escaped prisoners from a Jewish transport vehicle. You wouldnt happen to see
anything would you? Kampf says. My father shakes his head. We dont see many folks
out here, towns twenty miles away. We dont see anything really. The officer nods One
more thing, your son needs to join up and fight with his comrades. My fathers eyes flash
dangerously but he remains calm. My son has asthma; he wouldnt make it though
training. Without medicine hell die within a span of hours. The officer gives him a look
that clearly says he could care less. Its an honor to die in service of your country. My
fathers voice is pleading as he says I thought we had an understanding. Kampf starts to
speak harshly but stops mid sentence and notices the glass. Why is there a broken
window and a brick in your house? Are you aware of this Adalhard? he barks. Yes, yes
the boy broke a window this morning and Im using the brick to mark where the glass is.
My father says hastily trying to hide his fear. Kampfs eyes narrow as he pushes roughly
past my father. As he searches the house we sweat through our clothes knowing that if he

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finds them well be shot or worse. He finds nothing and we pray he doesnt remember the
cellar. We have no such luck; he stops by the old cellar door. Our blood freezes in our
veins as Kampf rips open the door and peers into the darkness. From within his jacket he
pulls out a flashlight and shines it against every surface. My heart pounds and I wait for
him to finally find them. But he doesnt, instead he looks confused and angry. As if he
was sure they were down there. He turns on his heel and storms up the steps to the main
floor and looks around as if he thought that someone had slipped past him while he
looked. My father and I follow him back up the steps and I share a nervous look with my
father. On his way out Kampf makes sure to grab my fathers wallet, which contained the
majority of what little money we owned. My father dint dare say anything out of fear of
being arrested or worse. Ill be back tomorrow to collect the boy. He says. Kampf then
turns on his heel and walks back to his car a satisfied smirk on his face. As we watch him
go he suddenly turns, narrowing his eyes he says in a calm voice Harboring Jews is
punishable by death Adalhard, youd do well to remember that.
For a couple minutes neither one of us do anything. Then he looks at me
realization finally sinking in. He rushes over to the window and checks to make sure that
Kampf is gone then tells me to find the children while he packs. Where are we going? I
ask softly. Anywhere but here. He says already grabbing supplies. I nod slightly and go
back down into the cellar. I hear a whisper, Is he gone? I look around and then finally
look up to see that the boy and his sister had somehow found a way to get up onto the
beams that support the ceiling and now he and his sister, perched there like owls. Yes,
how did you get up there? He looks at me with a grin and says, A magician never
reveals his tricks. And with that he hops down then catches his sister as she carefully

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slides off after him. Weve run into some trouble, we leave tomorrow morning I say
hastily. Grab all the supplies you can and bring them out to the barn, Eat as much as you
can. We wont be able to bring it all with us. We head up to the kitchen the girl instantly
starts to devour everything in sight. Shes got an appetite I chuckle. You would too if
you hadnt eaten in three days. He says darkly. Once we eat and we pack we bring our
backpacks out to the barn. What do we do with the animals? Adina asks. I dont know
so we go in to ask my father. Well theres no sense in leaving them here to starve. We
might as well sell them off, we will need the money for later. He says. And with that my
father was off to the market with a trailer full of pigs, cows and sheep. Three trips and
seven hours later he returns home with a heavy wallet and empty trailer. We all stayed in
the house that night but none of us got any real sleep. It was around two in the morning
when I woke with a start. There was a pounding at the door. Instantly I knew who was
there. I woke my father and explained the situation. He told me to get the others and go
out to the barn. I wake the others and grab a few packs we kept inside with us. My father
goes and answers the door. As he starts to talk to the soldier I only catch bits and pieces
of the conversation. Wheres the boy? one soldier demands. I dont hear my fathers
response but he must have said something to upset them because they try to push past
him. My father is a big man from working long hours on the farm so he was able to push
them back. One soldier tumbles back and falls on the end of his rifle. His scream shatters
the otherwise quiet night air as the bayonet goes clean through his stomach. My father
wastes no time in slamming and locking the door. He moves just in time to avoid getting
shot by the second soldier. My dad may have been lucky but the kerosene lamp on our
table catches fire and instantly the hungry flames climb up the curtains. I ran down the

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hall and see the flames licking the walls and turning them black. Outside I hear voices
shouting back and forth and the hum of awaiting vehicles. I gather the others and we
begin to push our way through the house. We crouch trying to avoid the smoke.
We make it to the kitchen but the fire has consumed the rest of the house. It
seems as if there is no way out when suddenly I remember the window. The glass has not
yet been picked up so as we crawl out the slivers send red-hot pain spiraling through our
bodies. We crawl out but my fathers hands are cut and bleeding from having to touch the
glass. Careful, there are soldiers out front I say. We are about to make it out to the barn
when suddenly the side of the house collapses and the main support beam falls. I am
transfixed as down down down the support beam falls toward me. At the last second I
feel myself being pushed out of the way as I hit the ground hard and the wind is knocked
out of me. I prop myself up on my elbow and look to the side to see where I would have
been only a second ago. In my place my father lies with a massive piece of lumber
crushing him. His arms still stretched out from having pushed me out of the way. All I
can think is this is my fault. This is my fault. It repeats in my head over and over again. I
must have gone incoherent because Abdiel is pulling the next thing I remember away
from my father. We must get the rest of the supplies he says urgently. Numbly I run to
the barn and gather up my bags my still pounding those four words into my memory
forever. If only I had been faster instead of standing there or have avoided all of this and
just joined the army as the officer had asked. We flee into the woods leaving my father
and my old life behind. I never saw home again.