Savannah Jane McCrary

Prologue

“I’ve always felt very strongly that when we do evil, we will have to give a final accounting for everything. And then I thought, I would absolutely hate to be in your shoes, boys. It is very difficult to explain, but I felt a sudden peace come over me in the middle of that hearing,
a hearing I had dreaded for months…”

–Diet Eman

Early August 1944

Vught Concentration Camp

Pieter

“Pieter Knies!”

Startled at the sound of his name after being called “Prisoner 24015” for weeks, Pieter looked up. A German officer stood in the barracks doorway. “You are summoned for a hearing,” he announced.

This is it, Pieter thought. The hearing was a mere formality; he already knew what his sentence would be. He took a deep breath and glanced at the other prisoners sitting on the bunks around him. Several gave him nods of support and sympathy. Pieter’s Catholic friend made the sign of the cross. Give me courage, Lord.

Pieter stood up and walked to the door, his head held high. The German officer cuffed his hands behind him, took his arm, and escorted him away from the barracks. They marched past a dull, colorless landscape of concrete and barbed wire. Even the sky was gray.

Halting before a large building, the officer led Pieter into the hearing room. He ordered Pieter to sit on a hard wooden chair, then stationed himself nearby. Several German officers were seated comfortably at the other side of a large table. A portrait of Hitler hung on the wall behind them. The table was some distance away from Pieter’s chair as if they didn’t want to be too near him. Pieter looked down at his filthy clothes and decided he wouldn’t want to be too close to himself either if he had the choice.

Pieter didn’t bother to listen as one of the officers gave his testimony. He studied his scuffed shoes and prayed. When at last the officer was finished, another German asked Pieter, “Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

Pieter raised his eyes to meet the blue-gray ones of his accuser. “Will anything I say change my sentence?”

The officer smiled, a cruel smile. “Nein.”

“Then all I have to say is this: All I did was seek to love my neighbor. I do not regret anything I did. And I would hate to be in your place and stand before God having killed His chosen people and those who tried to save them.”

Pieter knew the blow was coming before it came. He’d been hit so many times over the last few months, he wasn’t afraid of it anymore. Blood trickling down his chin from where the officer had struck his mouth, Pieter kept his eyes fixed defiantly on the men.

“I see no reason for further deliberations or to delay sentencing,” one of the officers said. His gaze bored into Pieter as if he could break him with a look. None of the other Germans objected, so he continued in an official tone, “Pieter Knies, you are hereby sentenced to death for attempted murder of a German officer, accessory to murder of ten German soldiers, sabotage, possession of a gun, dodging the labor draft, forging official documents, and giving false information to a government official.”

Quite the list of crimes, Pieter thought. And they don’t even know all of it. If I wasn’t handcuffed, I’d consider adding a few charges. Assaulting a German officer. Vandalizing a portrait of Hitler.

“Execution will take place tonight at sunset,” the officer finished.

Pieter tried not to let his face betray any emotion. He thought of his family: his parents, grandparents, younger sisters and brothers. If only I could see them one last time. I never wanted this. All I ever wanted to do was study theology and become the pastor of a little country parish. Now here I am, twenty-four years old and sentenced to death. How did I end up here?