The Nazis or Achsenmächte as we are to call them now that die italienischen Faschisten have joined them are a strong force, especially after die japanische attacked the American base of Pearl Harbour on behalf of them. But die Alliierten are fueled by anger. The same anger that helps prisoners of war escape. They remember why they fight, and they think of ways to use what they have to get out. Some die trying, while others make it to my country, that is supposedly neutral. A country that though its armies don’t fight in this World War II, is torn apart by the sides fighting.
A time not too long ago, my best friend Karl Wagner asked me what I was.
“Josef, are you a Nazi or Alliierten?”
“Ich bin Schweizer,” I replied, not wanting to choose.
“No one is just Swiss anymore. To be Swiss is to be neutral. You can’t stay neutral. The Americans learned that after they were attacked.”
“What are you?”
“Nazi.”
“Why?” I asked, surprised.
“Because my father is.”
“You don’t have to be what your father is.”
“What’s your father, then?”
“Swiss. His country is Swiss, so he’s Swiss. Like I am.”
“Belgien was neutral, too, like us. Now they’re Nazi.”
“The government’s Nazi. Doesn’t mean the people are.”
“Eventually, the Nazis will take our country. What will you be then?”
“Alliierten.”
“Why?” he challenged me.
“Because I won’t be part of a government that kills people because of their beliefs.”
“Why? Are you Jewish?”
At that I left, sick of my so-called friend’s choice.
Another friend, Franz Kleine practically became a Briton. He went into the Royal Air Force as soon as he graduated. He became one of their best pilots, but I got word a month ago that his plane was shot down by Japanese fighters. I’m not sure if he’s alright, but I pray to God that he is somewhere safe, or at least alive.

This is the fourth year of the war, and no one has won yet. How long can such a grueling war last? The Great War was finished in four years, ended by a truce. Yet somehow I feel that someone has to take more drastic action. The Hundred Years’ War, more than a hundred years long, was just a dance between the two sides. But this war is not. Hundreds die everyday from either side. I can’t tell who will make the next major advance, but I am only a sixteen-year old Swiss boy. Not a soldier. Not an analyst. Not a journalist.
My father is a journalist, though so he knows everything that goes on in the war. When the war first started, he never told me what was happening, even though I insisted. he didn’t want his twelve-year old son worried about an argument between China and Japan about resources. Then later, Nazi germany became involved. My father used to go to Deutchland to report on issues there, since die Schweiz already had so many journalists at home. He also likes to travel, so it was nice for him to get out of the mountains. But later he wasn't allowed to, since the only thing to report about was the war. He went to Poland instead. But the same thing happened; Poland was taken over by the Nazis. Now my father is a reporter specialised in the war, although he is not allowed to go anywhere other than France, Spain, and Britain.
Once in a while, he gets a chance to go to the United States. One time in 1941 before the United States became involved in the war, my father went. They were talking about staying neutral as long as possible, like us, but that if they needed to, they would fight. He also went there on the week of the Attack on Pearl Harbour, although then it was just known as the week of the first of December.
Though he wasn't on the Hawaiian islands when it happened, he was able to convey the emotion of the Day of Infamy to his people back home in die Schweiz. The anger of the Americans could be felt across the Atlantic Ocean and over the mountains. We all knew that the Japanese had made a huge mistake in bringing the United States into the war. Everyone knows that they will end the war. It was they who organised the truce to end the Great War.
I hope they will do the same with this war, but I don’t believe the Axis will accept it. The Germans brought the United States into the Great War after torpedoing a passenger boat, killing most aboard. The Japanese brought them in by bombing a naval base. My father in one of his articles called this “Den schlafenden Riesen wecken”━”Waking the Sleeping Giant.” He criticised it saying that it was one of the most stupid actions a general could order. He was thrown in jail for three months, by Nazi polizei, but was later released. If the Swiss were to be called neutral, we can’t hold political prisoners for the Nazis.
Now I know that the Swiss are cowards more than just the way Christine thinks. Not only do we not choose a side, but we are afraid to even think about what is going on. Here, parents are afraid to say to their children why the United States is now involved in the war, or if the British are losing more soldiers than the Nazis.
When I was younger my father was like that too, although he is one of the few adults who cares about what is going about. Now, he tells me when I ask, and sometimes even when I don’t, as he knows that I am one of the extremely few sixteen-year olds that care. Christine’s letter woke me up two years ago. i had been a reckless fourteen-year old, not caring about what happened. The United States had entered the war then, but I didn’t know when it was official or why they did it.I only cared about Fußball and grades. I still do, but now my father tells me everyday the progress of the war, and I write it down as a timeline. A sort of history of what happens from the exact moment it does. I started it late, though, in 1941. I have a list for everyday a military advance happened from December 16, 1941 to today June 9, 1943. A year and a half of recording in my notebook. I figured that if I recorded everything that had happened, that maybe I could predict the next big attack. But so far, I’m clueless, as clueless as the generals on the sides fighting. Maybe the Allies will turn the tides of the war. Maybe the Axis will.
My father also tells me that the Nazis have created an unbreakable code as a way of safe communication, but the British stole a code-book to figure it out. No one knows if they have actually cracked it because if they do, my father says that they wouldn’t want the Sxis to know.
After my talk with Karl about whether I was Nazi or Allied, I realized that although my father says he is neutral, his articles are usually about the successes of the Allies. He always tells me about a hard-fought battle that that Allies eventually win. I see his green eyes are lit up as if he had been there helping them.
Now I know that my father is Allied, and that if my mother was still alive, she would be Allied. I never knew her, but from what my father tells me about her, I know she would be Allied.

Today, my father told me that he is going to Deutchland in a week to interview a Gestapo Kommandant. I told him that I though he wasn’t allowed back in the country, but he said the the Kommandant had set it up. He would be given safe passage through Berlin to meet with him. What they are to talk about, I don’t know. He has a way of getting information out of the people he interviews.
I used to think of journalists as spies for the common people. They find out information and relay it back to the cities. In a way, my father is helping the Allies by rallying supporters and keeping an eye on the Axis. That’s why being a journalist, especially a war reporter is a dangerous job. Yet, my father still does it.
There are stories, rumoured to be just those, but I believe them. They speak of a prison camp called formally Stalag IV-C, but to everyone else it’s known as Colditz Castle. It’s rumoured to be the hardest prison to escape, so the Nazis put the prisoners that almost escape several times from other prisons there. Its security measures are tight and well-thought up that it’s almost impossible to escape from. I hear that the majority of the prisoners there are Britons and Americans, but the Polish have it easier to try to escape. Their uniforms are close enough to the Nazi guards’ that they can pass as guards. By the time the Nazi guards find out who the Pole really is, he can disappear into the forest surrounding the castle. But most never make it. Maybe my father will be able to find out about it.
I’ve heard that Colditz is like a city. Prisoners made up a currency so they could “buy” things they need for escaping. More often now, they just trade. My father gave the example of a Pole, not planning to escape, trading to a Briton who is. The Pole gives his Army coat to the Briton for a few packs of cigarettes since he needs nor wants nothing else. They system works well for escapees so that they can trade what they don’t need for things that they do.
Most other prison camps are probably like this too. Some escape and later get recaptured. Some come close to the gates, but never make it out. And others, either the lucky or smart ones, make it to Belgien or, since Belgien became occupied, die Schweiz. Even here, many people would like to see the prisoners recaptured and maybe even sent to Colditz.

In History class today, we talked again about the war. There is one student, Justin Schwartz, who is Deutsch-americanische, and he doesn’t tolerate my “friend” Karl Wagner’s hatred of the Jews and Allies. The majority of my class is politically Nazi, but there are still some Allies, such as myself. We became very good friends with the American, despite his heavily-accented Deutsch and American thoughts.
At first, his father disapproved of his friendship with us, believing that all Schweizer were politically Nazis. But then, he found that we had ideas like the Americans, and allowed us to come to his house. We have discussions about the war, something normal teenagers don’t talk about here. Many of our professors consider us to be a cult, or secret society of schoolboy spies for the Americans. There is one exception to the teachers who hate us.
One man, Herr Konig, is my history professor who lets us talk about the war in class, and even encourages it. Sometimes he comes to our “secret society” meetings and listens to our discussions. Occasionally, he will comment on someone’s argument for or against the Allies status in the war.
One time my father joined us and told us all about the things he’d seen the war do. He’d seen poverty in Stalin’s Russland, death in Frankreich, and paranoid in Großbritannien. Our whole group was stunned by his description of life outside the neutral zone. Not much had changed in the United States, other than wheatless Mondays and Meatless Tuesdays to save food for soldiers here in Europe. Women and children started taking jobs that men normally hold.
Justin, the Amerikanischer, as we liked to call him, told me I was lucky to have a father who knew the truth about the war. Someone who never lied to me or gave me false hope for the Allies. When I was younger, I used to lie to him often, so we agreed on a deal for life. I would never lie to him as long as he always gave me the truth about the war when i asked. It benefitted us both, so we could trust each other in a time when so many people are suspicious of each other.

Today was Saturday, so we had no classes. I realized that even though I’m only sixteen, I will have to go to Universität soon. That is, unless I get a job sometime soon or join the Swiss Army. Even if I joined the Army, we cannot advance in rank without a university degree.
I’ve finally decided that I will be a war journalist like my father. it would give me a chance to travel and see the things he describes with my own eyes. The only issue is my grammar. It’s not the best in the world, and it’s definitely not newspaper-worthy without an editor’s corrections. I would bring it to my grammar teacher, but he is a Nazi. My articles would be pro-Ally, and I could be arrested for showing favour to either side in the war, especially trying to publish it. I’d have my father look at it, but he would disapprove of me trying to do his job. He always tells me that I should be aware of the war, but not encourage or take part in it.
To him, journalism was a part of the war. In his eyes, journalists inform regular people about events, but also are important to generals.
“With the past, you can predict the future,” he said to me once.
It’s a philosophy that many generals follow. Journalists provide intelligence for briefings. I read in an American book once that almost two-thirds of the information from the American president’s daily briefing comes from newspapers and radios. It was interesting because it means that with my father as a journalist, I know almost as much as the American president Franklin D. Roosevelt does about the war.