Moe’s Search for Treasure

I

t was over.

The madman — no, not a madman, the descendant and inheritor of Amalek — the monster who’d plunged an entire planet into chaos, was dead. Rumors had been flying as fast as bullets storming out of a machine gun: Hitler was captured, he’d been hanged, he’d killed himself, the Germans were attacking, the Germans were retreating, the Germans had surrendered…

Now, it appeared, at least one rumor was true. On May 8th, Lieutenant Moses Freed joined the others in his division to hear the announcement: Yesterday, the Germans surrendered unconditionally to our forces. The war in the European theater is over.

A roar burst out of hundreds of throats. These were throats that had known hunger and thirst during battle, that had screamed in pain under a hail of bullets. Some of these throats had tightened with unshed tears when an army buddy died in a comrade’s arms. These long-suffering throats now roared and shrieked and screamed in joy.

It was over.

But it wasn’t.

The German High Command might have surrendered, but there were still nests of snipers to be cleaned out, and renegade SS members desperate to go into hiding and willing to kill anyone in their way. The country was a roiling mass of refugees, death camp survivors, Nazi prisoners, Allied soldiers, all on the move.