The drawbridge was on fire when me and my men crossed it. Screams

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The drawbridge was on fire when me and my men crossed it. Screams surrounded the country side, the cast the hills in flickering shadows and we could make out the farthest people crossing over the mountains.

We burst open the door and let the family out. There were two boys and six girls hiding behind the father and mother. We killed the father, the mother and the boys immediately. Then we led the girls inside. They were screaming and crying as my me and my men took off our armory. We were sweating from head to toe, and the youngest was no older that six years, the oldest not older than fourteen. One by one we, that is me, Oskar, Pin, Gunter, held the girls down one by one and raped them. The pigs squealed in the back, outside the fires roared, the smell of dung, blood, and young flesh burned into my senses and the memory now still haunting the hallows of my concience. I do not regret what I did, for I could not have if it were not meant to be. Those days are marked by many a battle victory and booty, and this not much different but that these were the youngest and fairest children I had ever seen. In the hurry had not properly looked but had we it would have been plain to see the father and mother of good stock by the very appearance their daughters possessed. The fairest skin lay shivering under me, the bluest glowing eyes now watery globes of the sadness, the softest voices whpering and pulsating with each savage ravage. I will never forget that night.