The boy in uniformBang! Slam! Slam! There was a hard, distinctive knock on the door and they all knew who it was. The Nazis had finally arrived, they were ready. The Feierabend family had stayed quiet and out of sight in a small, cramped apartment above their watch shop in Poland. It had been two years and now here they were, with only a cold wooden door to separate them, the Germans waiting. Shmule Feierabend was scared and didn't really understand what was happening. “Put on as many warm clothes as you can,” Dad had said, and that’s when three Germans knocked at the door. The tallest of the group said, “You have five minutes to gather your things and meet me on the street,” in a loud, loud manner that left the words ringing in their ears. Was all he said before quickly turning around and walking out, followed by one of the guards only a few steps away. The third guard, however, stood in the corner of the room and watched as Shmule, his parents, and his older brother gathered what few possessions they had. They left the dark apartment and stepped into the light outside for the first time since. two years. Cold air passed over their faces as the Feierabend family wandered through the crowds of Jews gathered in the streets to make friends, but found no one. The Nazis piled up their suitcases and loaded everyone into the boxcar of a train. Shmule, panicked, looked at his mother and asked, “Where are we going, Mom?” His mother smiled and said, "On adventures, darling, don't worry," but he detected a tone he had never heard in her voice before and he knew something was wrong. not, terribly bad. The boxcar was filled to capacity and...... middle of paper...... I'm old enough but I had brown hair and nice clothes like the camp guards. The boy came and sat down and the two looked at each other for a while, looking back and forth between the chain link fence that separated them. It wasn't long before the boys finally spoke. “Who are you?” said the boy. Afraid to speak, Shmule did not respond. The stranger then said: “My name is Bruno, Bruno Hoess, I just moved here. » “My name is Shmule,” said Shmule. “Shmule?” » Bruno said several times, trying to pronounce it the same way he had heard it a few moments earlier. “Yes, Shmule, that’s the Hebrew name for Samuel. » The two talked for a while, both answering the question asked by the other. Night fell and Shmule had to return to his barracks for roll call to take place soon. The two got up, made plans to meet the next day, and said goodbye..