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Oct 2, 2003 In 1935 they killed her twin sister. Her sister was stricken with Downs Syndrome and was of course of no use to the Reich, so they led her away and killed her. It was all done; Erica was assured, very humanely. Regardless, Erica took it as her cue to get the hell out of Dodge, so to speak. She took the next flight to London, and penniless and hopeless, she arrived in England. She had one thing going for her though: She was bilingual. This would prove to be her saving grace. England was on the brink of war with her native country Germany and they needed bilingual peoples to translate all forms of communications. Erica had a job. She did her translation job well and was all too happy to help the Brits and the Americans defeat the bastards who had killed her sister. She knew. She knew on that fateful day in 1935 that her native country had become evil. She knew that she had to do all that she could to see that the evil did not triumph. In 1946 she returned home. This time though, as she stepped onto her native soil she did so with a job and with hope. The American government hired her to translate communication in connection with the railroad. They hired her to interview and hire young men who were seeking employment with said railroad. This time the ball was in her court. She knew. She knew that the Nazi’s, although evil, kept amazingly good records, many of which she had at her disposal at the Frankfort Railroad Department. And so, many young men would come into her office seeking employment and many young men would leave her office with their heads hanging low in shame. Erica time and time again would ask these young men if they had ever been members of the Nazi party, and time and time again they would lie to her, telling her that they were drafted soldiers but they never voluntarily joined the Nazi regime. And then Erica, with these young men’s fate in her hands, would open her records and show these young men pictures of themselves dressed in full Nazi regalia. She would tell them that no man who was once a member of the Nazi party was allowed to work for the government. They would have to seek jobs in the private sector, digging ditches, or laying bricks. Inside, Erica would smile because she knew that she had won. It was as if God himself offered a reprieve on that whole “Vengeance is mine” dictate. She knew that in her own way she was still defeating an evil regime. She was still seeing to it that evil did not triumph. She was refusing the greatest men of an old empire the best jobs of a new democracy. And she was doing so, she assured them, in as humane a way possible. To recognize evil and to run from it is one thing. To recognize evil and to do your part to see to it that it does not flourish is quite another. One takes common sense the other takes courage. Erica died in 1993 at the age of 87. I can’t help but think that she died with a sense of accomplishment. I can only hope that all of us have that same initiative and that same courage when we face what we know is evil. ------------ About the author: Wesley Mills is a full time student and a writing instructor. He enjoys writing and helping others write. He welcomes any questions or comments you may have about his articles and encourages debate. Please e-mail him at wmills1@esc.edu. Comment on this column in the forum. Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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