The following is taken from a journal of a man named Moishe Moscowicz.
They stole us from our homes, our shops, and our schools. We were torn from our lives. And put here, in this pit of Hell. They made it clear to us that we are to be treated like “the filth that [we] are”. Many of us were slaughtered like cattle. I will not be one of them. I shall bide my time.
A week of this. Most have already been broken. I have retained my mind. Physical labor shall not break me. I mold my face to appear as if this is causing me great strain. Our overlords look at us with contempt. They beat us with whips, cat o nine tails and with metal rods. We get moldy bread and rancid swamp water. As much as they hate us, we hate them more. I have found others like me. Strong wills and strong backs. As long as we are united against our common enemy, we will remain.
Time seems to blur together. The one good thing is that the cruelty of our keepers is matched only by their stupidity. They’re so blinded by their false superiority, that I was able to smuggle this journal in. Not only that, but my group has managed to construct weapons and hide them. The time isn’t right. We keep finding more of us to strengthen our cause. We won’t be held in this place for long.
A man tried to escape today. He was shot as soon as he started to climb the wall. Everyone that he bunked with was told to build a trench at the base of the wall. When they were finished, they too were gunned down. Turned the stomach. I am no stranger to war, but this isn’t war. This is Hell.
This is it. We have amassed a group of about sixty of us. We have weapons all over the camp. These slavers won’t know what happened. They treat us like animals. Time they learn that animals have fangs!
I walked outside our barracks. The fences and the wall loomed above me. The mass graves just below. The guards paced in their guard towers or cleaned rifles. I walked towards the wall, as my friends gathered behind me. A guard shouted at me.
“Do NOT go near that wall, filth!” He raised his club over his head. I turned to face him.
“I won’t go for the wall,” I said as I pulled the steel pipe from my pant leg. “I’ll go for your head!”
I swung the pipe with all of my might and connected with the guard’s jaw. A sickening crack and a spray of warm blood splashed my face. As I stood above the guard’s broken body, my friends charged.
“Shoot them!” We heard from one of the guards. I bent down and plucked the sidearm from my victim. I took aim and placed a large round in the neck of the closest sentry. He dropped.
Soon, everyone had a weapon that was more modern. We went room by room, exterminating our overlords. Our bloodlust fueled by the atrocities they had committed against us.
What they did to us was pure unadulterated evil. We didn’t make them suffer. We wanted it to end. And it ended.
We made sure of that.