Narrative Essay On The Ghetto

Daniel Lee I hadn’t seen food for days. I was starving, homeless, weak and alone. I had been in the ghetto for two years now and surprisingly, I was still alive. I missed my old life. I missed my parents. I missed Warsaw. I could still clearly remember that very day when the Nazis raided our district in the winter of 1940. I was still asleep when I was awoken by the screams of my neighbours down stairs. I could hear plates smashing, Nazis barking orders, thuds and crashes, and a sudden silence when a pistol went off. I hid beneath my blankets in fear and began to cry. I was alone. Mama and Papa had already left for their night shifts. I was so scared. I didn’t want to die. I could hear voices getting closer and closer. Louder and louder. …show more content…
Too many mouths to feed and only a small amount of food, even the ration coupons did very little to help. The Germans also made sure that we did not get any extra food, whatsoever. “They’re trying to starve us!” people cried in the streets. Most of us didn’t want to believe that. I believed it though. Even those in the lines that marched out of the ghetto every day to slave for the Germans did not receive more food to eat. They didn’t need all of us. ‘Austauschbar’ they called us. Interchangeable. Replaceable. But I pushed those thoughts away. I simply wouldn’t allow them to starve me. We weren’t pigs in a shed waiting for the farmer to throw us some garbage. We couldn’t lose …show more content…
Everywhere I looked, I saw people giving up. People no longer looked up but looked down. People no longer had hope, but began to doubt. I was sick of it. Not one person I knew had the courage to resist the Germans. We were being trampled on, yet we just stared and watched. We were such intelligent people, yet not one of us took advantage of it. Not one of us stood up for our rights, our dignity, and our pride. We were all so weak, mentally and physically. All I saw were cowards. I was so mad at my people. Until… I met a man called Avraham. He had been leading a resistance force within the northern end of the ghetto for over a year, where he had already established an army of over two hundred people. He was a man I strongly admired; a true father figure to me. He was strong in the mind and full of courage. He understood my anger and feelings towards our people and with no hesitation, he recruited me as a resistance fighter. We were here to win back our stolen pride, dignity and hope. We were here to take advantage of our intelligence. Anyone who showed determination and courage was recruited, young boys, girls, fathers and mothers. We all worked together as one people. We had connections with Polish forces on the other side of the wall. They smuggled in food, weapons, and most importantly information about the Nazi’s next moves. We bought, smuggled, stole and captured anything we could fight with. Soon, we had a full