My guilt

Without screaming or weeping these people undressed were walking to their last port. A father was holding the hand of a boy about 10 years old and speaking to him softly; the boy was fighting his tears. Nearby there was a tremendous grave. People were wedge closely and laying on top of each other so that only their heads were visible. Nearly all had blood running over their shoulders from their heads…I estimated that it contained a thousand people. I looked for the man who did the shooting. He was an SS man, who sat at the edge of the narrow end of the pit; his feet dangling into the pit. He had a Tommy gun on his knees and was smoking a cigarettes