Keynes' Cruisers Volume 2

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Story 1883

Corpus Christi, Texas January 26, 1943



Josh sighed. Today had been a good day. His hands moved slightly. His fingers stroked his wife’s hair. From somewhere deep in her, she responded to his gentle touch with welcome and need. He lost himself stroking her long hair and feeling her move against his hip. His lover and his wife was hip to his hip, knee to his knee, shoulder to his shoulder. Her gravid belly was firm in his other hand and her round hips were rolling against him.

He smiled. They had been loud and enthusiastic and wet and messy a few minutes ago. Their toddler daughter was at a sleep-over with one of Margaret’s co-workers. Their little girl was best friends with Edna.

He had been flying almost the entire day. The squadron was starting to come together. The mighty new Corsairs were a different beast than the rugged Wildcats that had been his warhorse in which he had scored ten kills. It had more power and more punch. The Navy boys were still terrified of landing on a carrier with the big fighter; they were more than happy to stay in the new Grummans just being delivered but the Marines were loving their first rate machine. Today he had won seven dogfights and drew three more. His wingman, a new pilot with a deep Georgian drawl, had saved his ass at least once. Blackburn had done his job well, stayed tight and kept his eyes open while the element lead led the fight. That 4v2 had ended in a draw as Jaroschek and Blackburn were able to escape without damage.

And once Josh had opened the door to the kitchen, he was overwhelmed. His wife had one of his shirts on and little else beyond a saucy smile. She had finally started to eat well again and her hormones were kicking in to the most enjoyable part of the pregnancy. They rejoiced in their intimacy even as she told him how to please her in a way that would have shocked most sergeants.

Now he rested with his wife in his arms and his daughter sleeping peacefully a few doors down. Life was good for Josh Jaroschek.
 
Story 1884

Auschwitz, Poland January 26, 1943



The train stopped. Guards shouted for everyone to disembark. The huddle of humanity that had shared their warmth with each other split. Half a dozen bodies were no longer moving. Three pale blue children were clenched in the frozen arms of their grandmother. Another pair of older adults had passed overnight from the cold. They had no more reason to fight. Their bodies had absorbed some of the wind.

Rebeccah had been adopted by and adopted almost all of the orphans on the car. A dozen children held each others’ hands. A pair of five year olds held hers. Before they left, she straightened a few hats and buttoned the too thin coats. They walked off the train in a straight line towards a large brick building with several smoking stacks.

Guards yelled at them. These guards were seldom German. She could hear Yiddish accents and Polish tongues tripping over the harder vowels of both Yiddish and German phrases. Lines were to be seperated. Working age adults without children were to head to the left. Children and their caretakers would go in the center lane. Older adults incapable of work would go to the left and have a check into the infirmary. The guards promised hot showers and hot food once the initial processing was done.

She looked at the children who were following her. She had been the source of comfort, the source of hugs, the source of stories and the source of love on the long, cold journey. She could go to the left. Or she could stay with them. The imploring eyes of the young children answered the question. She strode straight through the door as a dozen children followed her.
 
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Auschwitz, Poland January 26, 1943

She looked at the children who were following her. She had been the source of comfort, the source of hugs, the source of stories and the source of love on the long, cold journey. She could go to the left. Or she could stay with them. The imploring eyes of the young children answered the question. She strode straight through the door as a dozen children followed her.

True heroism. May her memory be eternal.
 
OTL when the Warsaw Ghetto was being emptied, before the uprising, the Germans emptied the orphanage that was caring for children whose parents had died from one cause or another. When the Germans marched the children to the Umschlagplatz to be loaded on the trains, the doctors, nurses, and adult caretakers from the orphanage who were not required to get on the trains voluntarily boarded with the children so as not to abandon their charges. At this point in time, very few of the Jews of Warsaw had any illusions about the fate of those deported, although specific details may not have been known.

Merely writing this has brought tears to my eyes, literally and I am old and hardened.
 
I don't know how fester does it, he goes from a scene straight out of a romance novel to a scene depicting the very human aspects of the Final Solution.
 
The like I gave was a commendment to Fester for his truly brilliant writing. I personally refer to the Holocaust as "the shame of the Western world" because of the horror experienced by all who discovered it, and the deep guilt that followed for being unable to do more to stop it. Never before had genocide become an industry, never before did the perpetrators delight in making the victims feel like cattle going to the slaughter or tricking them with utter lies, never before had a regime been so determined to kill so many ethnic groups for simply existing as human beings. Never before had said ethnic groups been maltreated and murdered in every way possible, and never before had so much effort gone into stripping people of their status as human beings. The Western world never forgot that horror, and it is forever etched into their consciousness as something that must never be repeated.
 
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The like I gave was a commendment to Fester for his truly brilliant writing. I personally refer to the Holocaust as "the shame of the Western world" because of the horror experienced by all who discovered it, and the deep guilt that followed for being unable to do more to stop it. Never before had genocide become an industry, never before did the perpetrators delight in making the victims feel like cattle going to the slaughter or tricking them with utter lies, never before had a regime been so determined to kill so many ethnic groups for simply existing as human beings. Never before had said ethnic groups been malteated and murdered in every way possible, and never before had so much effort gone into stripping people of their status as human beings. The Western world never forgot that horror, and it is forever etched into their consciousness as something that must never be repeated.
A few years ago. I would have agreed 100% with your analysis, but, lately, I'm beginning to wonder. The capability to forget has never seemed stronger in the human race as it does now...
 
The problem I have with the like button for updates like the last from Auschwitz is that while I envy the ability to write such scenes, and admire fester's writing enormously, I really don't feel comfortable 'liking' holocaust scenes. Excellent work, and extremely well done, but still, uncomfortable 'liking' it.
Allan
 
A few years ago. I would have agreed 100% with your analysis, but, lately, I'm beginning to wonder. The capability to forget has never seemed stronger in the human race as it does now...

Ignorance is as great as a weapon as artillery. Education is the means to overcome it. The problem lies in how to educate, but that is a topic best suited for the political chat section.
 
The problem I have with the like button for updates like the last from Auschwitz is that while I envy the ability to write such scenes, and admire fester's writing enormously, I really don't feel comfortable 'liking' holocaust scenes. Excellent work, and extremely well done, but still, uncomfortable 'liking' it.
Allan
I completely understand. I try not to write horror porn, but I feel like that this story requires an acknowledgement of the Holocaust
 
I completely understand. I try not to write horror porn, but I feel like that this story requires an acknowledgement of the Holocaust
Your writing is scarily accurate portrayal of what happened there, such work though not looked upon with joy is necessary to try and ensure such a crime never taints the world again. By making sure people remember what can happen when such people gain power.
 
I’m 41 years old. Been reading history for at least 30 of those and could normally read about the Holocaust with minimal emotion

But I now have a 2 year old daughter.

I’ll be honest and say that it’s changed my perspective on many things. The last couple of chapters I keep reading and rereading trying to make sense of the horror and asking myself what I would have done

Fester...amazing writing to put such emotion on a topic many fail to address.

Now I’m off to hug my daughter
 
VERY well done...you wrote the Holocaust scene incredibly well. I went through the holocaust museum a few months ago--creepy! It is a very well done museum.
 
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