Life and Destiny © 2015 (short story) by Joe Vojt on AuthorsDen

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Life and Destiny © 2015
by Joe Vojt
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
Rated "PG" by the Author.

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Not anything but silence, no one dared to enter the region that swallowed up their loved ones. Nothing made sense as the wives, mothers, girlfriends and sweethearts began to realize the impact Have you ever wondered how one event can influence generations of people? Forgiveness comes from the heart of those that survived. Mostly the innocent people suffered the longest. The transition from occupation to freedom requires patience from all those that need to have closure.

Life and Destiny © 2015
Destiny covers the road of life. No one can see it passing or even predict the occurrences that change. Every new event is unique and remains a part of every person. Looking back, gives you insight of what you are and how much you traveled to be here today. With that in mind, I will share a part of what destiny has given a common man. The first few years were the hardest to capture and reflect on. In my case it has been somewhat harder to get accurate data and at best, it has been one sided. When you are young, knowledge is not a part of your make up.
Not all life started in the U.S. All the other countries have their own way of life and activities that form another part of destiny. You cannot control where or when you are entering life. The best I can recall, being around four, living under stress conditions that were partly fun, but mostly mass confusion. Simple life was not the case. Even for a young child with no knowledge, what was happening should not have been a part of any ones childhood.
Somehow, it did not matter, when you are controlled by an outside force that dominates people and other countries. There is no escaping the wrath of ternary. Once a population becomes restricted, and confined within an unknown environment, life is modified. Restrictions can be accepted as routine, but a child lives, the best that this systems offers.
What child could understand the true meaning of a compulsory labor camp? Especially when parents are under stress and are forced to work as directed. Going outside was never a part of the plan, unless a parent went with you. Even then, the atmosphere was tension driven based on the fact that we should not have been there. Living like outcasts from your native land, was a fact that was never known. For the most part, you were left alone in a house that remained dark and lonely, until one of the parents came home. Then they find you sleeping under the bed for safety.
People become pawns of others and in this case, you became a part of the masses that were mistrusted equally. Children cannot comprehend the level that drives any new forced society. Being forced to leave your homeland and enter into a foreign country, offers new culture and ethical issues. Missing your childhood and learning a different language, you become a byproduct of migration.
Here you turn into yourself and try acting like a child. How much time was missed with your parents? Can you recover the long lonely hours? Time with your parents was stressed, but what you could not understand was that your parents were putting on their best face just for you. The strain of living in a compulsory labor camp environment was never clearly realized. Being brought up as a young child that had never knew the reality of freedom, because he had nothing to compare.
Based on all the activity you knew, something was not right, but who knew the real story. Sleeping fully clothe with blackout conditions, did have an everlasting impact. At any given time, day or night your parents made you run to an air raid shelter, regardless of the season. It might sound like fun for a child, but only once.
Repeating this uncontrolled event without warning became normal. Based on the sirens and the sounds, sometimes the population could not make the dash for cover. During those times, the only source of protection was the cellar of the house; you were forced to live in. Here you were a part of many occupants that lived in crowded quarters. This was based on rules driven by the elite force that you were mandated to serve.
Freedom as a child under these conditions was limited and controlled, but you never knew what it meant, because it was a part of life. Living conditions in the compulsory labor camp was simple and the displaced people were guarded. This forced homeowners to be become automatic keepers of the migrated force. They were allocated by pure numbers and nothing could be done except go with what was in place. Daily the workers were marched in a group, toward whatever was required.
Never learning what that meant, accept when the males came back they were beat. If they had a wife and child with them, it was both a blessing and a course, because this became leverage for their compliance. Early morning till late at night was considered normal, until the day when the male workers did not return. That day was a shock, because there was no explanation for this action. How could a child accept that his father was not coming home?
Moving on from house to house made the impact harder. The remaining partner had to find a form of survival. Finding work as a displaced person did not make it easy. Yet survival became the only motivator when you loose your partner. Maybe some day, he will come back and be free of his labor, it drove many survivors. Here life and destiny gets its real test. Endurance is the outcome, regardless of what was experienced.
Accepting that your father was never coming back would not be accepted, because your mind retained hope. What made it harder, you never knew him, because the only life there was, and it was the life of a forced compulsory labor camp. Learning a new culture and language became secondary, adapting was required. Cultural events have a way of influencing a child, but the impact was never perceived, regardless of the reality. One day my parents were talking in an unknown foreign language at night. It was strange, but I tried to figure out.
Then a couple weeks my parents called me to sit down, we have sounding to tell you. I was interested, when my father said, son we are all Polish. My mind was sad that we where not German. Later on it made sense. Those standing in long lines to survive were one of many forced mandated systems. Food was a commodity that we take for granted, but even a child knows that it was wrong. The parents gave of themselves so that you could get the best there was. Living and surviving was strained under these controlled conditions, yet you endured it, because it was the destiny of life.
When a child grows into adulthood, all the events that occurred during his or her the time remain in the memory. The pain how one group inflicted such suffering on so many was real. You would like to think that this was not, but the reality of the past, derived the future and with it, we are apart of that cycle.
This dilemma had a far-reaching affect on life, without ever realizing it, until the day of liberation. Even then, you never understood what the issue was or why this had to be a part of life. You moved to freedom, never knowing your starting point. It only becomes clear when you search the history of your time.
Never really knowing what happened fifty years ago drives the mind into the many unanswered questions. Learning your father was killed or died when he could not come home to his loving wife and son, this still burns in the youthful heart regardless of age. Destiny plays a part that drives all, whether you believe it or not. Many events that were hidden and guarded became clear.
You will never find all the facts, but you can get a general over view. To obtain verified official data was a challenge. Drawing a line and willing to accept the information, caused life to move on. Allowing time to heal the heart takes acceptance and that is the best history has to offer. Sooner or later, you have to move onto what guided your life. What makes it all work, is being a part of a free society that accepts all people regardless of their make up.
No other country would have guided people to their new home with open arms. Here you can re-acquire the spirit that you are. Finding the truth necessitates the freedom of time and the ability to focus on what is important. Moving forward becomes easier if you can get the inspiration of a free society.
Have you ever wondered how one event can influence generations of people? Forgiveness comes from the heart of those that survived. Mostly the innocent people suffered the longest. The transition from occupation to freedom requires patience from all those that need to have closure.
Finding a form of closure is up to each individual and it takes you deep within yourself, to decide how to accomplish real peace of mind. It is not material, but more spiritual in the acceptance process. You do not need much faith in any organization, but your own divine acceptance of the facts that will allow the healing. Here is what my process was and the healing is about as good as it gets. Only you have that ability and it was never meant to be easy.
The challenge makes the reward acceptable for the future. I some times wonder what it would have been like to live a normal life and how destiny would have treated me. It is difficult at best to visualize a normal family when a father is there for all. You cannot change what happened to people.
Doing research helped me understand events that at best were blurs of a child and continued through all the years. The search of destiny is always a challenge. It shows facts, with the exception when it comes to your life. The causalities of war range through many, with it you can feel good by surviving when many could not.
That night when my father left and never returned was only a blur. Without knowing a date until almost fifty years pass, when I learned what happened. Living with the enemy of the world created pressure of occupation that was not totally recognized at the time.
During the early part of November, 1943 my father was formally drafted by then the nation of power. That year the war was not going according to the plan that had been envisioned, based on the causalities inflected by the free world, desperation set in. Manpower was needed and where could they be found, in the compulsory labor camp. This population was not the hated group, only displaced by force to occupy the depleted nation.
Thus drafting the required manpower was a source that became mandatory. At first he was assigned were we lived, but he was never allowed to return to his family, like most military rules of war. He was trained as grenadier, that still is not clear what that included. His group was a so-called reserve unit of the armed forces at that time. The following year the masses of military were assigned to head out to the western front that was weakening and needed reinforcement.
In this case, bodies regardless of type had to fill the void. Again, none of this was known at the time, but survival played a role with mother and son. In 1945, the war was winding down and we gave up on ever finding my father alive. Acceptance of that fact sure burned deep in both hearts, especially being young. Close to the last day of the war, my father died and four days later, he was buried. Learning that he was in a hospital for three months prior to his death did not shed any light as to the reason.
The assumption on my part, it was war related based on the limited facts available. Learned that he was buried in a military type system was interesting and with the help of a local town official, I was mailed the actual burial site, including photos showing the head stone with his name inscribed.
Finding where the final resting place gave a limited amount of closure. With fifty years passing, it removed some of the deep feelings that lingered a lifetime. I some times wonder what I would feel like seeing and standing by his gravesite. Emotion would take over and then happiness by allowing real life closure.

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Reviewed by Ronald Hull	11/25/2015

Although I was about the same age and we were under rationing, I don't recall any stress like you express from your frightening and confusing childhood. It is so sad that your father was conscripted to serve the Germans in war and lost his life as result. I commend your mother for taking care of you through those awful years as best she could. Finally, I'm so glad that your research helped you find some closure about what happened to your father after all those years of wondering. Ron





Reviewed by Eva Pasco	11/24/2015

I feel privileged to have read your personal account of life as you foggily remembered it as a child, bolstered by historical research to provide a framework and perspective. Sadly, oppression is rampant throughout the world, and this becomes the norm for children who adapt from day to day.

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