Hopelessness. (March) - a short story written by Berni Albrighton.

 


The prisoners were ordered out of the overcrowded barrack and told to run towards the courtyard.

The ground was uneven due to the small rocks and stones that carpeted the area.

They had nothing on their feet and several of them stumbled.

Some reached out for a hand to rescue them, to lift them out of this hell.  

No one had the strength. 

Resignation for what was to come had drained their last scrap of energy.


‘Line up’ the officer shouted.

‘Faster, faster’

Weak, starving, unable to comprehend what they were being asked to do, the prisoners were disorientated, unable to move quick enough for the frustrated soldiers who screamed orders in their faces.

‘Strip, everything off. Now.’ 

They dropped the rags they had been wearing and stood skeletal like in the October freezing air.

Young soldiers ran up and down the lines picking up the small mounds of filthy materials, trying not to breathe in the smell of fear that permeated from the prisoners. 

Some of the prisoners cried, others prayed, some begged.

A few were silent.


‘Turn, March’ yelled the Officer.

‘Do not stop. Walk straight through the doors’


The towering chimneys spewed the remnants of death high into the clear crisp October skies. 

Meanwhile the barracks breathed out as space was freed up, and the remaining  prisoners prayed thanks that they had lived to see another day. 

Comments

  1. Vic DaveyMarch 2, 2024 at 6:23 PM

    I'm always amazed at man's inhumanity to man....this illustrates it so well...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Tom FynesMarch 2, 2024 at 7:03 PM

    A sad story of a recurring theme. Nicely done.

    ReplyDelete

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