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I have seen images of the Jews camped out in small trains, breathing into nowhere…”Take us home,” they say to the tracks...

...Of course the trains do not, we know the history. But the passengers do not know that, these tired broken off families hoping for soup.

Instead the people are stolen, broken down into piles of dental fillings, shoes or eyeglasses, it only takes about an hour to make a big heap. What rules could they live by that day?

I can see this in the periphery, not dead on of course, or I would die from grief. These trains slowly creeping past neat houses, far away standpoints and high cliffs.

I can hear the shivering sorrow and fear of a small child, chin high in sewage, waiting for a time when it is safe again.

Hitler must have heard this too, or he would not have fought so hard for the pedestal. After all he was a dark eyed, dark haired Jew of small stature, a rotten little blemish on his own Aryan ideal.

I have heard that when we die, we are judged according to the standards by which we judge others. Looks like Hitler gets to be hungry, defeated, humiliated and tortured on an endless train ride to no where, for the rest of ever.

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