Yes, before the war, I used to have a happy family, a beautiful wife, and two lovely children. The head of state said that our hometown is safe, we only need to fight and fight again, but on that day, the bomb of the Allied forces came down with a bang. From then on, all my concerns in this world were gone.
From the age of six, I started collecting stamps. I collected stamps from all the places where I was stationed. Without my relatives, I can only put my affection on the stamps. I regard them as treasures. Only when I look at them can I feel peace. War and killing seem to be really far away from me.
I am not a murderous German, nor do I hate Jews like our head of state. But I never thought that one day I would fall in love with a Jewish woman and hope to be with her forever.
I was in the box of the train that day, looking at my beloved stamp, she just came along. With beautiful blond hair, blue eyes, delicate red lips, and sexy figure, please forgive me if I describe it straightforwardly, I am just an ordinary man, a man who hasn't touched a woman in a long time. She opened the door of my box straight away, carrying two heavy boxes in her hands. Out of a gentleman's manner, I said that the lady is not suitable to carry such a heavy box-help her put the luggage on the shelf. She smiled and told me that there were her gramophone and records in the box, and she was a singer before the war. Really, what a beautiful singer, how charming. But I am a well-educated man, and flirting with women is not my strength. So I can only sit gently and look at my stamps. The secret police in the train were conducting routine inspections. The lady opposite me was a little nervous. These were all things I didn't see. Finally she came over and asked me what I was doing. I showed her my stamps. She said that she also collected stamps when she was a child, and then she gently asked if I could take them over and have a look, she would be very careful. The secret police opened my door for a routine inspection. I glanced at them and said that I didn't see that it was busy here? Yes, I am the senior leader of the SS, don't they need to obey me? Do I have to endure their harassment when I am with a beauty?
We had a great conversation along the way, but the train arrived at the station. I offered to send her off, but she refused, saying that someone would pick it up, and also took away her gramophone and record. I said I hope we will meet again, her eyes tell me that she doesn't want to see me again. Yes, this is the Netherlands during the war. How can we agree on the story of tomorrow in a foreign land? I walked a long way, and then looked back at her, she also looked back at me, smiling sweetly. Forget it, shake our heads, what can we expect in war?
What I didn't expect was that, really, I could see her again so soon. When the receptionist told me that a lady named Alice was looking for me, my heart was singing. I ran downstairs and saw her in the hall. I stretched out my hand and said it was a pleasure to see you again. She came to give me stamps. They are so beautiful. These stamps are so beautiful, but I didn't tell her that these stamps are far less beautiful than hers.
The secretary brought coffee and chocolate. The chocolate was seized from the captives of the resistance organization and was very rare during the war. I noticed that she ate a lot. Seeing that she wanted to eat but still had to maintain her own self-esteem, I felt a little distressed, so I invited her to the dance party of the senior officer I was going to. There were food and wine, and she should be there. Are you full?
I suggested that we go get her gramophone and record. She smiled playfully and said, "Why don't I sing it to you?"
That night I will never forget, wine, food, and beauty. The way she stood and sang really made me fascinated. I think we all drank too much. After the end of the song, she put her legs on my body and said she wanted to see my stamps. Will a man and a woman stay together late at night just to see stamps? I know what she is implying, but I am a good man, so I said that it takes a lot of time to look at stamps. She said she has time. I said I don’t have any extra toothbrushes. She laughed, drank a sip of champagne, and vomited. Then he opened his mouth and said to me: Look, it's all clean.
I couldn't resist this temptation, so I took her back to my residence.
Maybe alcohol is really an aphrodisiac, I can't wait to take off her clothes, her chest is beautiful, straight and round. She took off my shirt and I was sitting on the sofa, and suddenly I saw that the roots of her hair were black. Black is the color of the Jews—for us Germans, this is a must-have knowledge. I held her hand and asked if her hair could be dyed to save her life, she stopped, and her beautiful blue eyes looked at me seductively: "Yes, so what?" She put my hand on her On her chest, "This is also Jewish", she put my hand on her hip, "This is also Jewish"-yes, the Führer told us that everything about Jews is so dirty, but this Jewish women are so beautiful, everything is so beautiful, what do I care about? I kiss her, we make love, I just want to lose myself in the arms of this woman.
When I woke up again, she was not by my side, I lit a cigarette, and she came back and saw pictures of the children. Standing in front of the bed in lace pajamas, she asked me: "Are you married?" There was a faint disappointment in her voice. "Yes, once." I used the simplest language to tell the saddest story. She looked at me with sadness in her eyes, "Yes, I understand that feeling." Then she kissed me, at first She was looking at me, then she closed her eyes and kissed me. If the previous sex was only the need of two adults for each other, then this kiss, I can feel it is a kiss of spiritual harmony, I am convinced that she understands my pain and talks about the huge pain behind. She said "I understand", but I also understand it. We, in this war, have all lost our loved ones.
She got a job that night, and I saw her in my office the next day. She is beating in front of me like an elf, making my eyes inseparable from her. Every time I meet it makes me feel very happy, and I am a man addicted to love again. When I got off work, I asked her if she came to my house at night. I was like a little boy who had just tasted the forbidden fruit and wanted to be with her again. She said she was coming—she wanted to be with me too, right?
That afternoon, after she left, the informant of the party committee team was killed, and I suddenly found that it seemed like a trap. A lively and beautiful woman suddenly appeared in front of me and slept with me, and the first person she worked with was killed. All this can't be a coincidence. I prepared a gun and placed it under the quilt. I need to ask her what is going on.
She came, faded all her clothes, and the beautiful ketone body showed up in front of me again. I erected the gun slowly, and she smiled and asked me what it was? She was frightened when she opened the quilt. I pulled her over and told her of my doubts. I asked her if she confessed everything or handed her over to the SS tomorrow. She looked at me with tears in her eyes, how could it be? In my eyes she is such a strong woman, but I actually saw tears. She asked me to shoot, I shook my head, she said pitifully that I should kiss her, I shook my head, that's all, I was destined to be unable to pass this level, I kissed her, kissed her very hard, she was not afraid I—a gun in the hand of a German Nazi, but let me kiss her like an aggrieved child who wants to be approved by his parents? God, maybe she's crazy, maybe I'm crazy.
I did not arrest her, on the contrary, I wanted to avenge her. The executioner who killed her whole family was my subordinate, and his actions were outrageous. I reported to the general and asked him to check that guy's safe, but to my surprise, the safe was full of documents, and all the gold and silver treasures looted from the Jews were gone. The damn lieutenant actually took a bite back, saying that I was negotiating with the resistance group. When the general stared at me and asked me why, I could only tell him that to avoid more bloodshed, the Allied forces were already close at hand, and we also needed to leave ourselves some back. The general, an extreme fascist, did not allow me to make such remarks and convicted me of treason, and was executed on the same day.
Before I was taken away, my woman looked at me behind the door. This kind of ending was unexpected by none of us. Before such a change, she didn't panic. She didn't know maybe this was our last side.
Later I learned that the resistance organization organized an operation that night to rescue all the prisoners. She asked them to rescue me at the same time or they would not cooperate. It turned out that she didn't panic because she wanted to save me. But the action failed that night, almost everyone died, and she was also framed and thrown into prison.
But what they don’t know is that after so many years of fighting, in the SS headquarters, I also have my cronies. He saved me and this woman I love. We were hiding in a car in a car. Under the sheets, I put my arms around her and escaped from life.
We hid in a small boat, the night was so quiet, and the surroundings were so peaceful. The woman was busy there, like a happy little housewife. I just lay there, looking at her, I really hope that this kind of life will last a lifetime. . . . When I kissed her, I never knew that the happiness of the rest of my life was actually in a Jewish woman. . . The news of the German retreat came on the radio, and her face became solemn. She said that she had never expected to fear the days after liberation. . . Yes, the resistance groups still think she is the traitor. I comforted her that we must find a way to clean up her grievances, but I forgot that I used to be a Nazi officer and a war criminal that everyone wanted to catch.
That day, that last day, we left our boat and went to find the traitor we thought-the lawyer. The doorbell rang and the lawyer was shot. My only thought was to catch the murderer. He was the only one who could clean up Alice's wrongs. There were a lot of people on the street. They were celebrating the retreat of the German army. I couldn't see the murderer. I fired the gun, but it attracted more attention. They yelled my name and rounded up me, which must have been so exciting for them to catch a major German leader. She heard the movement in the room, standing in front of the big French window looking at me, it was still so beautiful. . . This is our last glance.
That damn general was actually working for the Canadians, and he took out my execution order to continue execution. The cowardly Canadian actually agreed to his request and agreed to my shooting order. I rushed forward fiercely, trying to strangle this Nazi who insisted on killing me. I hate him, hate him why he didn't give me a chance, I just found my own happiness, just like this, he extinguished all my hopes of life.
(Please forgive me for not knowing how to write about Munz’s death. This is one of the scenes I can’t bear in the whole movie. The director didn’t explain any inner monologues, and he didn’t even have a single look in his eyes and let him die like that. 。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。 Still alive?)
There is no purpose for writing such a story. If there is, then it should be to vent. The love story in the Black Book, although so simple, defeated all my defenses with such simple scenes. That night, I replayed the bits and pieces, ethnicity, hatred, and conspiracy between them over and over again. All omitted, I only see the love between a man and a woman, which keeps me awake at night and cannot be pulled out of the plot.
I am not a master of storytelling, nor is my writing so flowery, I just vent the great compassion in my heart. I like the role of Munz, the gentle look in his eyes, and the love of a Jewish woman in his SS uniform. What kind of love is this. . .
Today I put this story here, I hope people passing by can see it. If you have the same feelings as me, if my story can make you feel a little bit afflicted, then I am very satisfied.
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