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A memoir of the Holocaust
By Jacob Zylberman
The online version
© Copyright 1995, 2000, Jack Zylberman
The Star of David
Awakened by a downpour, lightning illuminated pale faces tapping on the window pane, angry voices demanding he open the door.
"Who are you?" asked Jacob defiantly. "Must you disturb me at this time of night? Can’t you wait until morning?"
"Open the door before we break it down!" they roared.
Reluctantly he unlocked the door, facing two men wearing long dark trenchcoats, dripping water. The taller one with SS insignias and black swastika, the other, his sandy blond hair a shade darker, his muscular face set on a thick neck, broad shoulders, a huge cross resting on his ample chest.
"Why don’t you get out of those wet clothes?" Jacob said, his politeness exceeding their welcome. "Have a drink, then divulge the importance of this intrusion."
After the third refill, the officer, his bare feet at attention, exclaimed: "I am here to arrest enemies of the Third Reich, ‘Juden’ who don’t wear badges."
"And he," Jacob asked, "what is he doing here in such inclement weather? Is it so vital to your Fuhrer?"
"It seems to be," interjected the other. "I have more experience than he, going back a long time. I am here to make sure that there is no cheating, no hanky-panky.
"So, if you are Jewish, it is imperative that you wear the badge, the ‘Star of David,’ at all times."
"If this is the reason for your intrusion," said Jacob, turning to the Nazi, "then I pity you. I have no badge, but I am a Jew all right," lowering his pajama pants.
"The only distinguishing characteristic is my penis, surely a dead give-away, you nevertheless try to imitate, circumcising your boys, a ritual Jews began milleniums ago.
"The only obstacle is our faith, belief in one God, though branches of the same tree, the cause of our division, centuries of hate, bloodshed not only between us, but also among yourselves. … The most noble ideas, lofty thoughts, are turned into tools of death, and all in the name of God."
"Don’t try to bamboozle me," interrupted the German angrily. "My task is to hunt you down, dispose of you in any manner we choose, wherever you are. Moreover, the entire world would not lift a finger to help you."
"Is this your plan? To destroy a civilization your elders forged so tenaciously. You might impress the feeble-minded, your kind, but not the majority.
"Inevitably your power will disintegrate, because might does not make right. The victories of your undoing will haunt you, leave you defenseless. Stamped with the mark of Cain, the swastika drowned in blood would become the victim of your own destruction, and the dream of a thousand years’ hegemony of the world will end in doom.
"Now, look outside, the clouds have disappeared, the sun ushers in a new day, its beauty beyond man’s comprehension, and you, miserable creatures that you are, have the audacity to alter, reshape it your way. Is this the road you choose?
"That is all. I have nothing more to say and your visit is terminated."
When Jacob awoke the sun was at its zenith, golden leaves marking the first signs of autumn. Traces of rain had washed the streets clean, a cloudless blue sky embracing a fading rainbow; and the snapshot of his family prominently shone on the night table.
His 5-year-old darling sister sat on father’s lap, her tiny hands resting on her knees. Eight-year-old David clung to his mother, his tiny hands clenched in fists. The others sat around the small table staring into the distance.
Badges of the "Star of David" shielded their hearts, and the old perennial grandfather clock stood back in the corner marking time.
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