Free A Murder in Auschwitz by J.C. Stephenson Page A

am a bit worried about the snow, though.”
    “Klara, if I have to carry you there through snowdrifts, I will make sure that we go dancing tonight.” Meyer then fished out the box from his pocket.
    “I have a Christmas present for you,” he said, holding up the wrapped box for her to see.
    Klara made an excited gasp. “What is it?”
    “You will have to wait until morning, no opening until then!”
    “I have something for you, too,” she said. Klara then scurried away before returning with an equally beautifully wrapped box.
    “You have to wait too,” she teased, before her laugh infected them both.
     
     
    Christmas was an unusual time for Manfred and Klara Meyer. Both were from Jewish backgrounds, but Meyer had celebrated Christmas to a certain degree since neither of his parents were practising Jews and it helped him fit in with his gentile neighbours and school friends. His family decorated their house, had a Christmas tree, and exchanged presents with each other.
    Klara, on the other hand, had not celebrated Christmas before. She was from a much stricter Jewish household, and the idea of celebrating a Christian festival was seen as ridiculous, although her father always gave her and her brother a small gift each on Christmas day as a reward for being ‘good Jewish children’.
    Klara and Manfred shared another belief though. They were both atheists. Klara’s scientific background and Meyer’s father’s belief in socialism had removed any faith in the Jewish, or any other religion. So it was a surprise to Klara when, on their first Christmas since having met, Meyer had bought her a Christmas gift. When she questioned Meyer jokingly on whether he had secretly converted to Catholicism or whether it was a purely capitalist Christmas he celebrated, he gave her a letter to read.
    She had opened the envelope, which was dirty from fingerprints and slightly torn at the corner due to the letter inside being taken out so often over the years. There was no stamp, but the franking on the letter showed the Imperial German crown and was dated 1915. The letter inside was addressed to Manfred, who would have been ten years old at the time, and his brother Nils, who would go to France the following year. It read:
    ‘ My dear boys,
    I have had a letter from Mummy telling me what good boys you have been and what a help you are to both your mother and your grandmother. Thank you very much for your own letters, they are a constant comfort to me and I read them over and over again when I am missing you all.
    Manfred, to answer your question, the food is very nice, lovely black bread and bratwurst with potatoes and gravy. It is always lovely and hot as the weather has been particularly cold recently.
    Nils, it is difficult as a soldier on the front line to determine which way the war is going, but I can tell you that we have been making good advances along the line. If you can, talk to Herr Koch about machine gun training. I think that this would be the best position to try to get when you join next year, but hopefully the war will be well and truly over by then.
    But I am writing to tell you of a wonderful thing which has happened here on the front line. In case you did not know, the Kaiser had Christmas trees sent out to all the troops at the front so we could have a little bit of home comfort.
    We decorated the trees and put them up above the parapet. I fully expected the enemy to shoot them down, but instead, when we sang Christmas songs, they joined in the singing! I could hear them clearly across no-man's-land. It was wonderful. Then some of our boys, who had worked in England as waiters before the war, got up out of the trench and walked over to them, hoping to swap cigarettes and wine for chocolate and whisky.
    When I could hear them talking I couldn’t stop myself from laying down my rifle and joining them. I ended up talking to a Scotsman from a place called Glenfinnan. We managed with a little bit of English and a