Out of the shallow depths of broken dreams Olga surfaces up into the shadowy dimness of barrack number Twelve.

Racking coughs and muffled weeping together with the stench of humanity invades the senses in one enveloping cloak of despair, reaching into the soul like an iron grip.

Olga lays there for a moment behind the safety of closed eyelids as if she could hide behind a cloak of false safety and hope. The sharp vicious shouts of the guards cut through the veneer. “ Wake up you filthy lazy Dogs, on your feet, move your selves!”

Slowly she opens her eyes, she feels fatigue like no other, deep into the marrow of her bones. She wants to give up but she stumbles to her feet, she knows the Russians are coming. Olga has been listening to the far off artillery for days now, she can barely hope to dream of rescue. 

The Guards have been taking more and more of the weak and sick from the barracks this last week. The smoke is a constant black cloud from the crematorium . Each minute, hour, day Olga thinks it is her time, the guards will come for her. In someways the end will be arelief. But something keeps telling her not to give up, drag yourself forward, one minute at a time.

The Guards go to work with their baton’s and their boots, forcing the weary to their feet, four more have died in the night. Theirstruggle is over. Maybe they are the lucky ones.

The inmates are hustled outside and made to stand in a line. Olga is hugging herself trying to keep in the warmth. She is lucky enough to have a thin pair of ill fitting boots taken from one of the dead early one morning. Others are not so lucky. But like the others she is skin and bone and very weak.

It would appear today they are to be honoured by a visit from the camp commandant. He stands on a platform and addresses the remaining inmates who have stumbled out of the other barracks. Everyone is lined up heads down, facing the commandant, he starts to speak.

“You may have heard rumours” he bellows. “These rumours are false!” We are not losing the war, the fatherland remains strong!”

“But we have decided…we are to move to a different camp, where you will continue to work, we are to march North today, if you fall you will be shot, if you march you will be given bread, that is all!”

The camp is slowly emptied, all the lines of people been funnelled out of the open gates.

The guards are setting fires behind them, destroying the evidence of their murderous regime. Olga stumbles and gets beaten across the shoulders, she straightens up and staggers forwards with the rest.

That day  they march twelve hours without rest, some have stumbled dead before they drop, they are left where they fall.

The guards appear to be getting more and more desperate, they can hear the Russian guns coming closer, they are arguing amongstthemselves.

Olga clings on to her sanity, the blisters on her feet are sending bolts of pain up her legs. The woman who started the march with her suddenly makes a rush for the trees. Olga watches as she nearly makes it, but the ratchet of machine gun fire stops the escape, the woman throws her arms in the air before she falls face down at the edge of the trees.

Olga close her eyes and says a silent prayer to a god she feels has deserted her. I must prevail she thinks, the end is near, whether at the hands of the guards or rescue by the Russians.

As the dark settles in the guards call a halt, everyone is told to lie down on the ground. Cries for food and water are ignored.

Olga closes her eyes, sleep comes in an instant.

She dreams of green meadows, lakes and birds singing in the trees. She wonders if she has died and this is the afterlife. She imagines she sees a waterfall and she walks towards it wading through a clear lake. She walks into the falls and allows the cool cleansing water torun down her head over her shoulders to her feet.

Olga wakes up, the waterfall has gone but it is raining in torrents, she is lying in pools of water. Desperately she laps up the filthy water taking as much in as she can before she props herself up on her elbow. Olga looks around and sees bodies lying everywhere, some not moving, others looking around bewildered.

The Guards have disappeared, she can feel a vibration through the ground and she hears a thundering noise in the distance. She looks into the fog and she can see tanks on the horizon, and soldiers, hundreds of them coming towards her.

It is an hour before they reach the survivors, they hand out water and bread. One woman is kneeling in front of a Russian soldier clutching his hand, weeping tears of gratitude. Others are wandering around, confused and bewildered.

A Soldier approaches Olga, he is young, nice eyes she thinks. He asks her name and she tells him her name is Olga. He explains that the survivors will be loaded onto trucks and taken to a field hospital where they will be assessed and processed. The man smiles at Olga, there is compassion in his eyes.

Everyone are given blankets and loaded ontothe trucks and are taken about ten miles back to where the Russians have set up camp, there are tents everywhere. One large tent in the middle has been set up as a makeshift hospital.

Olga’s feet are treated and she is told to get in a line where a man at a desk is asking questions of the people as they approach him. 

The man once again asks Olga her name and what country she comes from, he also asks about possible living relatives.

“I am Hungarian, she tells him, everyone I know was taken by the Nazis and taken to the concentration camp, I have a sister who lives in England, but I haven’t seen her in many years.”

The man thinks for a Minute and suggests it may be better if Olga was handed over to the Allies to deal with, maybe they can help her.

 

A week later and Olga is in an English compound in France. She is asked many questions, about how she was captured, her time in the camps, how she was treated.

Seemingly satisfied with the answers Olga gives, the English official has recommended Olga be put on a boat and sent to England so she may be able to track down her sister.Everything is overwhelming for Olga, she is alive but she feels lost and alone in the world.She hasn’t seen Helga since they were teenage girls having grown up in a small village in Hungary. Helga had met an English man who had come to the village while travelling around Europe before the war.

They fell in love and were married before he took his young wife to live in England.

Olga knows the name of the English Village and the man’s name, but that is all.

The Sea crossing is treacherous, the wind and the rain lash across Olga’s face as she stands on the deck staring into the distance, seagulls dip and glide on the winds , their cries sound mournful to her, she understands the sounds of despair like few others. she cannot stand to go below deck, she needs to feel the elements on her face, she has to keep reminding herself that she is free.

And soon through the mist she can see shapes starting to emerge, they are the iconic white cliffs of Dover, England, her sanctuary, her new home.

She once again joins a queue, she doesn’t have a passport but she has been told to give her name and some signed papers to the smiling official. The man looks at the papers, then back at Olga. “One moment please,” he says as he picks up a telephone and speaks to someone on the other end.

She is asked to go into a room where there is a picture of the King on one wall and a small picture of Winston Churchill on a desk where a man with white hair a moustache and small spectacles sits.

“Hello my name is captain Smith, I understand you are to stay with a’ he pauses while he flipsthrough a notebook on his desk, “ a Mrs Helga Thomson?”

“ Yes, that is my Sister”

“ I have an address and a Bus ticket for you, I have also been asked to give you a small quantity of money.” He looks at her then with sympathy in his eyes. “ And on behalf of the British government I would also like to say how incredibly sorry we are for this terrible thing that you have endured, if only we had known the full consequence of what those Animals were doing to your people.”

Olga thinks the man is trying to look for justifications where none are needed, what was done was done, the Nazis would in time answer for their crimes, she must now look to the future.

He wishes her luck and directs her to the Bus Station, the village where Helga lives is in Kent, about fifty miles away.

The Sun is shining as Olga stares out of the bus window at the English country side as it passes by. Just like Hungary there are a lot of farms, with cows and sheep. But she notices the scenery has a charm all its own. Lush Green pastures set in a patchwork quilt of meadows, farmland, and small copses, evergreen hedges framing fields of daisy’s and buttercups. She passes through small hamlets with thatched stone cottages, little shops,postboxes and telephone boxes.

A man on a bike rides along side the bus as it passes by, he doffs his cap and waves at her, a little girl runs along the pavement chasing a Dog. Olga senses are been overwhelmed, the normality of everyday life threatens toovercome her.

The Bus drives by a sign at the edge of the road: Little Higley. This is the village where Olga’s sister lives, Olga is looking forward to meeting Helga again but she is also nervous, it has been many years since they last spoke.

The Bus drives down a Narrow cobbled street and turns onto the Main Street where on the corner there is an oak beamed building with concrete steps leading up to an Oak door which has a wooden sign above it with a picture of a Dog and a boot on it, gently rocking in the wind.

As the Bus passes down the street Olga notices there is a Butchers window with the carcasses of recently butchered Animals hanging in the window. She then passes a fish mongers and a bakers before the Bus turns the corner at the top of the road where there is a shop that straddles the Main Street and another shorter road that runs down a small incline.

She gets off here but is not sure where Helgashouse is. She decides to go into the shop to ask for directions. She looks around and notices the shop seems to sell everything from tins of food to household items, cleaning materials as well as sweets lined up in jars,Behind the counter, where there is a matronly looking lady with grey, blue hair bunched up high on her head, and wearing an enormous pair of square spectacles that sit perched on the end of her nose.

“Can I help you love?” She says, looking at Olga with what seems to be weariness and suspicion.

“Yes hello, Olga replies, I was wandering if you could possibly direct me to the home of Mrs Helga Thomson, I have just arrived in England and I am afraid I may get lost if I am not careful” she gives an encouraging, hopeful smile.

“Helga you say, I can tell from your lingo that you must be a long way from home alright, and what would you be wanting with Helga may I ask.? The formidable looking lady crossed her arms over her ample chest and looked at Olga over her spectacles.

“Yes of cause, said Olga, you must naturally be very curious, Helga is my sister who I haven’t seen for many years. I have come a long way to see her.”

“Oh yes, now I see, you must be Hungarian like Helga, of cause she has lost most of her Accent over the years. She lives down the hill, take a left then a right, she lives in the third house on the right down that road, the one with the Red gate and with haycroft written on it.

Helga thanks her and turns to leave, but the lady is speaking again.

“Off cause after Bill died at Dunkirk she has been there by herself poor love, and now since she has been taken to hospital we haven’t seen much of her and all.”

Olga suddenly turns around, glaring at the woman, she wasn’t expecting this, all this information is too much for her. “ what do you mean madam, you say Bill is dead? I didn’t know this, and now you say Helga is in hospital.” 

“Oh poor love, this must be a terrible shock for you. I won’t say anymore now, you have to speak to Edie summers who has the house next door to Helga, she will explain everything.”

“Olga thanks her and makes for the door, but the lady calls to her as she grasps the handle.”

“My names Mrs Duffer, if you want to know anything about the village and anyone in it you come ask me sweetheart, now you go and see Edie now, she’ll get the kettle on and tell you what’s happened to Helga.”

Olga’s mind was in turmoil, while the war was raging and Olga was in the camp bill had died and now she learns her sister is in hospital.

She makes her way down the hill and turns right. And then she sees the house with the Red Gate: It resembles something from the fairy tales that her and Helga used to read when they were young; It is a small thatched cottage, the walls have ivy growing down them, there is a narrow pebbled path that leads to the front door which has a small thatched porch way and three stone steps leading up to the door. Either side of the path the garden grows wild and free, it has obviously been left unattended for many weeks.

A little woman is looking at her over the fence next door. Her hair is white and tied back in a bun. She leans on a stick looking at Olga.

“Hello there dear, you’re looking like a little lost sheep, can I help you with anything,” she said.

“Hello I’m very confused, I’ve come from a great distance to see my sister, and now the lady in the shop tells me she is in the hospital, and now I do not know what I am going to do, I don’t know where the hospital is and I have nowhere to stay.” Olga puts her head in her hands, she feels she might start to cry.

“Oh my love, don’t get yourself into a lather, You must be Olga, Helga talks about you all the time, you come inside with me now and I’ll get the kettle on and explain to you what has happened.”

As Olga follows the lady into the house next door she thinks this must be Edie. She is shown into a neat and tidy front room and told to sit down in an armchair by the window. Edie comes back into the room carrying a tray laden with cakes and a pot of Tea. She pours the Tea in to two china cups and hands one toOlga while she awkwardly tries to hold the plate with the cake on it in the other hand.

Olga is not sure of the English customs for drinking Tea and cake so for the moment she puts the Cake on the table and sips the Tea.

“I’m sorry to be a nuisance to you Mrs Summer but could you please tell me what has happened to Helga, and tell me where I can find her.”

“You poor love, everything must be so confusing for you, Helga has been in St Clemente’s Hospice for the last three months. After The army officer came to tell her that Bill had been killed at Dunkirk during the last evacuation, she didn’t hardly want to leave the house, I tried to talk to her but she became inconsolable, she stopped eating and took to the drink.

One day I came outside and saw she had collapsed in the garden. She was taken to the hospital and examined, they found out she hadcancer and it had spread to her bones.” Last week they moved her to st clements. 

Edie then paused, looking at Olga with sympathy. “Helga died yesterday, I’m so sorry love. I would say you should go and see the Solicitor in the village, Tom squires is his name, I believe he is handling Helgas estate.”

Olga finds her way back up to the high st and comes to a glossy Black door with a big Brass knocker on it. There is a silver plate attached to the door with the name Tom Squires etched on it.

When she knocks on the door it is answered by a man servant and she is shown into a room with a large desk in the middle. A man with black hair swept back with brill cream sits behind the desk.

The man servant introduces Olga and leaves the room. The Man behind the desk invites Olga to sit down and tells her his name is MrSquires and he has been trying to track down any living relative of Helgas.

“It would appear, and you have the papers on you to prove it that you were Helgas most closest next of Kin relative still living.”

“And as this is the case I have instructed by the Information on the last will and testamentthat you will now take ownership of everything that your sister owned prior to death.”

With a shaking hand Olga signs the paperwork and is handed the Keys to Helgas house, now seemingly Olga’s house. She now also has enough money to live quite comfortably.

Olga spends the next few weeks cleaning up the house and tidying the garden. She was determined to make something of this life, her family were gone, she didn’t know anybody, and the locals were suspicious of her.

The only person who spoke to her in the corner shop was Mrs Duffer, people looked at her with suspicion, some even muttered about her behind her back saying they didn’t want any bloody Germans living here. Olga didn’t try and explain herself, she quietly collected her shopping and left quickly. Mrs Duffer told her not to worry, and they would accept her eventually. But Olga just wanted to be left alone.

She was woken up one night by laughter and knocking at her window. Some children giggling and making jokes about Olga been a witch. She didn’t mind, she had suffered worst, much worst than this.

Most people continued to ignore her: in the shop, the fish monger’s and the Bakers, She kept her head down and went about her business.

Then one day there was a knock at her door. When she answered there stood a well turned out man, about twenty eight and near Olga’s age.

“He took his hat off and introduced himself. “ Frank Spooner, at your service.” He said grinning ear to ear. “ I’m from the Paris council and I have had a letter from the home office asking if you have settled in to life in old blighty, and I’ve also come with a proposition for you.”

After asking him in he explained that every Monday the village hall held a talk by a guest speaker in front of all the villages and would Olga be interested in telling her story.

Olga tried to tell him that her story was difficult for her to put into words, and she was afraid that the villages would object to a foreigner explaining what happened to her in the war when Britain itself was suffering a great loss of life in the Blitz and on the beaches of Normandy. “I don’t want to feel alienated any more” She said.

“And some people even think I’m German.”

“Even more reason to tell your story Olga .”They are good people at heart, but the war has hardened them, many of our boys haven’t come home. Tell your story and they will understand.”

Olga agreed, reluctantly, saying goodbye to the man called Frank. “ Excellent said Frank going out of the door, shall we say eight o clock Monday evening.? 

Before she could respond further he was gone. Olga didn’t know why she agreed, the memories were terrible and speaking in front of about eighty people was something she had never done before. But Frank had a charm about him she thought, smiling to her self.

Monday Eight O clock and Olga stared out at a sea of unsmiling faces. The silence cut through the hall and someone at the back coughed. “Get on with it then” some one shouted.

Olga took a deep breath, and she began. “My name is Olga, and I’m here to tell you my story.

Olga then went on to tell them how herself, her Mother, Father and younger Sister were taken from their homes, forced onto Trains like cattle, then after a twelve hour journey they were unloaded along with the bodies of those that had died on route. The night was filled with the hateful shouts of the Guards wielding batons and bayonets, dogs snapping at their shins.

Through the gates of the concentration camp, herded into one line where a Man sat at a desk dividing people into two lines.

Olga’s Mother and Father sent to the left, Olga and her sister to the right. Olga trying to  desperately hold on to her Mothers hand.

Everyone on the left were taken into a large building at the edge of the camp, Olga and her sister to another on the other side of the compound.

Olga never saw her parents again: The next day she learnt that her parents along with the elderly and the weak had been sent to the gas chambers.

Olga and her Sister were sent to work digging ditches and foundations for more barracks and crematoria to be built. A thin soup was given to them each morning, but it wasn’t enough, most died of malnutrition and disease, the weak were sent to the gas chambers. Olga’s sister died in her sleep within a week of coming to the camp, it was like she just gave up, what was the point of living she said the day before. Olga took her sisters coat and shoes telling herself she would survive, they would not break her spirit.

So she lived, day to day, slowly losing all resemblance of a human being, skin and bones, her rib cage barely covered by a thin covering of skin. 

Thousands died that winter before the Russians came, but Olga survived the camp, she survived the march, it turned out her will to live was stronger than the Nazis will to turn her into the animal they believed the Jewish Race to be.

She ended her talk to the same silence she had began, but this time it was a respectful silence, some people were crying, Frank Spooner wassmiling and nodding to her, he too had tears in his eyes.

Olga shyly thanked everyone for their time, and walked out of the hall without speaking to anyone.

Well that’s that then she thought, what is done is done, I must now make a life in England, with these people who have not welcomed me. I will live, tend my garden and my house. It is much more than I thought I would have. I will be happy for the sake of my family and my people.

Then the next day when she entered the shopeveryone in the queue stood to the side to allow her to move to the front. In the Butcher’s there was no charge for her meat. People invited her to their homes, the local Children cleaned her windows and tended her garden. This went on for a couple of weeks and then the village life went back to normal, she was treated as an equal, a privilege denied by the Nazis. The war ended and the world was at peace. The Nazis were brought to account. They paid for their crimes.

By telling her story Olga had been accepted. Frank invited her to the harvest dance, they were married a year later, children followed. Olga became a teacher at the local School.Young lives benefited by her wisdom. And Years later, sitting in the nursing home she looked back on her life and thought” no matter what life throws at you, keep moving forward, day by day, minute by minute. Live everyday, love your family, enjoy your friends, and respect your neighbours. And above all, cast off hate, learn to be tolerant, and smile at strangers.

In life there will be joy and sadness in equal amounts. Experience everything and learn something new everyday. Smile through the bad times and laugh through the happy times.

All in all thought Olga. Life’s not that bad is it.

The end.