'Riddle'

Ladies and gentlemen, shall we do a twist…?

We’re inside another realm, even though nothing is altered. The place we’re in is at the same time so radically similar and unlike to Cemetery where I took you last time!

For a very short while we’ll lurk inside the shadow of Jewish Necropolis, where Red Army and Wehrmaht once clashed. Where secrets collected through ages got shattered by bullets.

'Spectacle'

I. Prologos.

It’s so calm. Only moans of the wounded remind you what happened a minute ago. Artillery thunders shake the ground somewhere far away from here. So peaceful. You’ve been leaning against the broken tombstone for the past few peaceful moments. Mauser with a cracked stock lies beside you, accompanied by two stick grenades.

Is this really last cigarette in the pack, goddamit?!

II. Parados

Feldwebel roars with hoarse bass. Time to move… Run away, I suppose. Assuming you still can! Hans whispering prayers two steps from me ain’t so lucky. Both his legs are badly shot. Poor Hans.

I’d love to have his Sturmgewehr right now.

III. Epeisodion

I lift this constantly dropping, oversized helmet. I won’t see the death coming after me with this shit getting in my sight! Decorated inscription flashes before my eyes. Sounds rather human, just like my neighbours surname. Is this cemetery really Jewish? Having my swollen body risen, there is no time left to contemplate. The officers seem to be panicking. What has happened with those proud soldiers of Thousand-Year Reich?

IV. Stasimon

It wasn’t even a second after I made my first step. Marble behind me explodes with a rain of stings. Whistling bullets carve this death sentence. Second. Third. So this is the…?

V. Komos

The fourth bullet pierces my body, painting snow-white plate crimson. Fourth crack joins the mosaic, covered with a veil of my flesh. No pain. Am I going numb? It’s just like in those stupid stories! My hands lose strenght, legs refuse to obey. I slide down the tombstone. Why isn’t my mind going blank? Where is the light? Why can’t I look dem Tod ins Gesicht? Why can’t I lift this goddamn helmet?!

VI. Exodos

Du stirbst. Besitz stirbt.
Die Sippen sterben.
Der einzig lebt - wir wissen es
Der Toten Tatenruhm.

Text
Photo
Quote
Link
Chat
Audio
Video