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"Albert Einstein once said...Technological progress is like an axe in the hands of pathological criminal. It took me a while to get what he was saying; How often have we chased the dream of progress, only to see that dream perverted? More often than not, haven't the machines we built to improve life shattered the lives of millions?I used to be one of these forsaken people. Always looking past the things I was doing, and never back at what I had done. But how far, I wonder, must we go before we as a whole see what we've done to ourselves."
Wilhelm gingerly grasped the barb wire fence, staring out vacantly towards their periphery. It was almost as if he were waiting for someone. Someone he knew wouldn't come. The chill of the December evening air wracked his body with pain. It had bee several months since his capture by his own Germans--even less time than that had come to pass for them to find him guilty. Guilty they said, of treason. Harboring Jews, and even helping the enemy escape. That's what the back aches, the high fevers, the hacking and coughing, the muscle aches, the nausea and vomiting--the typhus was for.
Yet, even now as he passed his bowl of rotten potates and gruel onto a child standing inline; with a gentle ruffle of the girls hair an a faint smirk he wondered if she could see him now. Lorraine Manon. He wondered, if it was for naught; saving what lives he could manage to spare with his now bony, malnourished fingers. He couldn't possibly make up for the damage his people had done. It was all he could do to atone for his own crimes.
" It's in our Nature to want to rise above our limits. Think about it. We were cold, so we harnessed fire. We were weak, so we invented tools. Every time we met an obstacle, we used creativity and ingenuity to overcome it. The cycle is inevitable... but will the outcome always be good? I guess that will depend on how we approach it. These past few months, I was challenged many times, but more often then not, didn't I try to keep morality in mind, knowing that my actions didn't have to harm others? In the past, we've had to compensate for weakness, finding quick solutions that only benefit a few..."
It was colder now. Wilhelm, along with twenty others were stripped bare and herded like cattle into a chamber that looked no different than a shower room. Yet, even Wihelm's dull, listless eyes could tell those were no shower heads. Those were spouts for releasing Zyklon B, a form of hydrogen cyanide. In the dark, all alone he heard coughing and wheezing. The cries of little children and the strained voices of their parents trying desperately to console them. Shutting his eyes slowly, he let the tears fall silently.
God...what had he been doing all this time....?
Wilhelm gingerly grasped the barb wire fence, staring out vacantly towards their periphery. It was almost as if he were waiting for someone. Someone he knew wouldn't come. The chill of the December evening air wracked his body with pain. It had bee several months since his capture by his own Germans--even less time than that had come to pass for them to find him guilty. Guilty they said, of treason. Harboring Jews, and even helping the enemy escape. That's what the back aches, the high fevers, the hacking and coughing, the muscle aches, the nausea and vomiting--the typhus was for.
Yet, even now as he passed his bowl of rotten potates and gruel onto a child standing inline; with a gentle ruffle of the girls hair an a faint smirk he wondered if she could see him now. Lorraine Manon. He wondered, if it was for naught; saving what lives he could manage to spare with his now bony, malnourished fingers. He couldn't possibly make up for the damage his people had done. It was all he could do to atone for his own crimes.
" It's in our Nature to want to rise above our limits. Think about it. We were cold, so we harnessed fire. We were weak, so we invented tools. Every time we met an obstacle, we used creativity and ingenuity to overcome it. The cycle is inevitable... but will the outcome always be good? I guess that will depend on how we approach it. These past few months, I was challenged many times, but more often then not, didn't I try to keep morality in mind, knowing that my actions didn't have to harm others? In the past, we've had to compensate for weakness, finding quick solutions that only benefit a few..."
It was colder now. Wilhelm, along with twenty others were stripped bare and herded like cattle into a chamber that looked no different than a shower room. Yet, even Wihelm's dull, listless eyes could tell those were no shower heads. Those were spouts for releasing Zyklon B, a form of hydrogen cyanide. In the dark, all alone he heard coughing and wheezing. The cries of little children and the strained voices of their parents trying desperately to console them. Shutting his eyes slowly, he let the tears fall silently.
God...what had he been doing all this time....?
-Several months earlier-
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