Chapter 3 – The Photograph

Six years earlier…

August 1, 1940

Berlin, Germany

“What are you doing?”

Wilhelm froze. His father stood in the door way, an unhappy look on his face.

“I don’t recall ever giving you permission to come in here.”

Wilhelm quickly scrambled to his feet, holding his hands behind his back. He knew he was in trouble.

“The door was open…”

His father’s eyes drilled into him. “And does that give you a particular right to come into my office?”

“No sir.”

Wilhelm could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. Uncomfortable, he looked down at the floor and chewed on his lip. There was a moment of silence before his father asked, “What’s in your hand?”

Wilhelm had almost forgotten about the picture he was holding clenched in his fist. The black and white shot was of a younger version of his father, dressed in his uniform, newly promoted to the rank of Lieutenant. Next to him was a younger man whom Wilhelm didn’t recognize. The second man had a striking resemblance to his father. A cousin maybe? He slowly handed it over to his father and tried to explain, “I saw part of it behind your book shelf, so it picked it up.”

Wilhelm lifted his head to see what his father’s expression would be. To his surprise, it was one of anger.

“This should have been destroyed a long time ago,” his father said through clenched teeth, crumpling the photograph.

“Why?” Wilhelm was too curious not to ask. “Who is the man next to you?”

His father began to rip the photo to shreds.

“That man is a liar, a traitor, and a disgrace to our family.”

Wilhelm knew better than to ask any more questions, so he held his tongue. After tossing the remnants of the photograph into the trash bin, his father continued, “I suppose it is time I told you… that man in the photograph is your uncle, my younger brother, Karl.”

Wilhelm was confused. He had never knew his father had a younger brother.

“Back… oh I don’t know, twelve or fifteen years ago, Karl and I had a fight. He was trying to convince me that if the Führer came to power, he would destroy the only good that was left here in the Fatherland and make it a horrible place.”

Wilhelm’s father sighed and looked lost in thought, as if reliving the argument all over again.

“As you know, that is not true. The Führer has made us better than ever before. So I told him that he was a traitor to Germany; he did not want what was best for us. But Karl would not listen to me. He said we needed to become more like England or America.”

Wilhelm shook his head in disbelief. Who would ever want to be like England or America? They were the enemy, and from what he had heard, they were terrible countries.

“I told him to leave, that I never wanted to see him again. He was no longer part of our family. And so he left. I have not heard from him since; but I know he hates our family. After he was gone, I was so angry at him that I destroyed all memories of him in our house.”

As he watched, his father’s eyes grew as cold and hard as steel.

“He is a traitor to the Fatherland and I will never forgive him for that.”

Wilhelm felt his anger and hatred for this man, his uncle, growing. He swore that he too would never forgive his uncle…