The Book Thief
THE WAR MAKER
There was the smell of a freshly cut coffin. Black dresses. Enormous suitcases under the eyes. Liesel stood like the rest, on the grass. She read to Frau Holtzapfel that same afternoon. The Dream Carrier, her neighbour’s favourite.
It was a busy day all round, really.
JULY 27 1943
Michael Holtzapfel was buried and the book
thief read to the bereaved. The Allies bombed
Hamburg – and on that subject, it’s lucky I’m
somewhat miraculous. No-one else could carry
close to 45,000 people in such a short amount
of time. Not in a million human years.
The Germans were starting to pay in earnest by then. The Führer’s pimply little knees were starting to shake.
Still, I’ll give him something, that Führer.
He certainly had an iron will.
There was no slackening off in terms of war-making, nor was there any scaling back on the extermination and punishment of a plague. While most of the camps were spread throughout Europe, there were some still in existence in Germany itself.
In those camps, many people were still made to work, and walk.
Max Vandenburg was one such Jew.