The Sunflower_ On the Possibilities and - Wiesenthal, Simon copy

was better to keep my mouth shut about what I had heard in the hospital death chamber.
I feared that Arthur, the cynic, might say: “Just look at him; he can't forget a dying SS man
while countless Jews are tortured and killed every hour.” He might add: “You have let
yourself be infected by the Nazis. You are beginning to think that the Germans are in some
way superior, and that's why you are worrying about your dying SS man.”
This would hurt me and then no doubt Arthur would tell me about the unspeakable crimes
that the Nazis had committed. I would be ashamed of myself. So perhaps it was better to
keep to myself what had happened in the hospital.
I strolled over to the parade ground and chatted to some acquaintances.
Suddenly one of them hissed: “Six!” That was the agreed warning that SS men were
approaching, I hurried back to Arthur and sat down by him as the two SS men walked to the
bandsmen's hut.
“What were you going to tell us?” asked Arthur.
“I have been thinking it over and I don't want to talk about it. You might not understand
or…”
“Or what? Tell us,” Arthur insisted.
I was silent.
“All right, as you like.” Arthur stood up. He seemed annoyed.
But two hours later I told them the story. We were sitting in our stuffy hut on our bunks. I
told them about our march through the city and about the sunflowers.
“Have either of you ever noticed them?”
“Of course I have,” said Josek. “What is so special about them?”
I was reluctant to tell him the impression the sunflowers had made on me. I could not say I