Playing Chess With HitlerBrianna Izuno
I know Hitler wasn't a great man. He killed countless Jews and plenty of others. Genocide. I saw that side of him like everyone else; the other side of him is something only I saw. I don't even think Hitler saw it and certainly his mistress, who he later married, didn't. My family disowned my when I was fifteen and the army took me in. The Holocaust had newly started and I soon moved up to be Hitler's secretary. The accent was easy since not most of the men and women didn't have that well of an education. When I still had a family they sent me to good schools hoping for me to become a doctor. That's why they where shocked and quickly mad when I told them I wanted to be a writer and refused to be anything else. They said they now had a male heir, my younger brother. Then they left me to the streets, but I didn't leave that house in tip-top shape. That knife left a long scar that was physical and emotionally painful. Shoulder to elbow is where he let his anger flow. The army nurse who found me thought me dead at first. She said a living girl shouldn't have as many injuries as me. The bruises are long gone but I can still feel them. Of course my quick move up from street victim to secretary of a killer had everyone wondering about this new girl. Hitler must have heard because he decided to investigate the matter one day. I think he was seeing if I was a Jew or he just needed a break. He was quiet a moment after the end of my most recent past. Then with a quick nod he set off to his meeting. The last part had been about my birthday yesterday. Had he taken an interest in me? I wasn't sure. Around a week later I was called to that man's office. Hitler was sitting at a table with a chess set on top. He said for me to sit down and asked if I knew how to play chess. As I replied that I did he made his first move. He was a great chess player, but I was better. It looked like those seemly pointless chess tutors weren't so pointless. The game was over quickly. Hitler stared at the board after I took his king. He told me "good game" and I was dismissed. In time I was summoned whenever Hitler wanted a game of chess, and I soon figured out why. When ever I won and the few times he did he had a faint look of confusion on his face. I knew that I was the first to see that. I never knew if he the real meaning but my firm guess was it was something where he didn't need to be formal and know everything; somewhere he could be confused. He certainly was in chess. One day he asked me about what side I liked more: Nazi or Jews. I told him if it got to bad I would leave the country; I was independent. I knew what he was doing was wrong but I wasn't about to take sides. He lost that game. I guess I did take a side after that; my home became a safe haven for Jews. The army issued house was never checked or visited by many people because Hitler put me above suspicion. I helped the Jews and was never caught. When Hitler died I died to move to Egypt. That's where I spend my days now, a thirty-year-old women writing books and taking names. But ever once in awhile I sit at my desk and remember those days as a secretary at the Nazi headquarters. And whenever it was needed, playing chess with Hitler.