Copyright 2011 © Rebecca Garner. All Rights Reserved.

Just a quick note. This is my first attempt at writing a story of Germany, or writing in the time of the WW's, so please be patient with me if i get facts wrong or if something doesnt make sense historically. I was watching a documentary about the third reich with my parents and got this idea, so i just wrote it down as fast as i could. So yeah, please leave a review, let me know how im doing with this, and just a note, all reviews will be returned. Thanks!

Becca.

Marilyn Schultz.

December 11, 1941.

Nazi Germany.

Applause rang in my ears from all around. The sound overpowered my child sense of hearing, and I winced at the pain it incurred. But I cared not, and hardly noticed, for he had just taken the podium. Soon, my shrill child's voice accompanied those already cheering on our great leader. His words, large and confusing though they were, spoke to me. He was awe-inspiring, charismatic, and proud. He was Hitler.

I stared at him, screaming at us with his booming voice through the microphone, and agreed wholeheartedly with what he said. At least, what I understood of what he said. My family and I were so far from the podium, I could barely hear over the crowds cheers. Halfway through the speech, that had lasted perhaps an hour or so, I looked to Mutti for explanation for she had such excellent hearing.

"Mutti, what is he saying?"

"War is being declared, my liebling."

I smiled at her warmth, and squeezed her hand. She always called me liebling. It meant, my darling.

"On who, Mutti?"

The warmth in her voice vanished. "Us, my liebling. Hitler is declaring war on America."

I frowned in confusion. I understood that when the Olympics were held in Berlin in the summer of '36, our family had traveled here as tourists to watch the games, from America. I was born there. My real father died when I was very young, before I was even born Mutti tells me, so it was just her and I who came. Mutti had told me to prepare for theft in the streets, religious prejudice, and racism. What he were met with instead in the grand city, were some of the kindest people we'd yet to meet. The managers of the hotel we stayed in offered us complimentary breakfast, every day in our rooms! The meals were quite tasty, as well I recall.

The only sign of any biased in the whole country were the swastika banners covering the city in a sea of red and white fabric. I once opened the window in our room for air and had a banner blow through and smack me across the face. However, other than the multitudes of red cloth hanging from the sky there wasn't a trace of the city's horrors. Mutti and I loved it here. It was so different than Massachusetts, our state in America, and I rather liked the change. Then, when we attended the first day of the tournament, Germany's chancellor and Fuhrer Hitler took the stand to give the opening speech. Mutti and I looked at one another and knew, moments after he began speaking, that we would never be able to leave. If only we had known then that everything we saw, the kindness we witnessed, was all an act to fool us. And we let ourselves be fooled, willingly.

Mutti married a local business man, and he, having friends in the right areas of the third Reich, managed to get her and I deemed German citizens. This of course required my new step father adopting me as his own child, and my having to take his name. Now, my name in Marilyn Schultz, and my step dad has made me forget my original surname. He tried to change my given name as well, but on that point, I was adamant. I wouldn't change it. Mutti named me after Marilyn Monroe, obviously, as she was such a great talent in America at the time of my birth. When father died, Mutti found strength in Marilyn's messages and sense of humor. The actress was all that kept Mutti lighthearted while she was pregnant with me.

I never like my step-dad. He was a classic German Nazi, and unfortunately Mutti and I didn't understand what this truly meant until after the Olympics were over, and the country returned to normal. He drilled me until I spoke fluent German, and didn't let Mutti and I speak in English to each other whenever he was there. When he was gone, we didn't hesitate to speak in our native tongue. I despised him.

Even though I wasn't directly German, I was still as awe-struck by our Fuhrer as anyone else. I mean, how could you not be? He managed to somehow instill a pride in me for being German, and for having fair blond hair and sea blue eyes. Hitler could do that to anyone, even while sending thousands of people to the gas chambers. Mutti once worried about our connection with the Jews in America, for her

mother and sister were of that persuasion. Mutti never accepted Judaism thankfully, and converted to Christianity very young. We told no one of the family connection to the Jews, for by their standards, my Mutti was still Jewish automatically because her mother was, and thus I was a Jew for my mother was. In accordance with my step-father's direct order, we never told anyone we were American either.

And now what was I to think? I, like every other German in the crowd of thousands listening to our chancellor, was enthralled by him into patriotism. But I had never abandoned my belief in American values, and in the capitalist economy. I considered myself both German and American, a sort of dual- citizenship. Here was Hitler, whom I adored along with the rest of Germany, declaring war on my country. I knew not what to do.