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Reincarnation Stories
A Prisoner of the Nazis

When I was in about the eighth grade, I began to experience ongoing dreams after listening to a Holocaust survivor's story in school. These dreams continued for three or four years. I dreamed each episode only once and I can still remember most of them. Each dream was in great detail and seemed to go on all night.

The first dream was very choppy, something about hiding in a car, being found by two men in uniform and hiding a ring in my mouth. I don't remember a lot of it but I was being dragged away. Maybe this is when they realized I was of value and put me to work; I don't know.

I dreamed I was a secretary to a German officer whose makeshift office was located in a tarpaper warehouse. I seemed to be pretty important as a secretary because I spoke English, German and another language and could interpret documents for them. I don't know if I was a willing employee or had been forced to work there. I was told never to go to the lower level of the building but I once snuck down to see something and stumbled upon a group of people being held there. It was very scary to me and I fled. I feared for my life, knowing that there was Jewish blood in my family. They disposed of the prisoners' bodies by placing them in the tarpaper rolls and trucking them out of the tarpaper warehouse.

Next, I was traveling with a large group of people and hiding in various places. This dream continued for years, often including the death of different people to whom I had became very attached. I remember hiding in the basement of an antique store, a sewer and a large drain pipe that emptied into an open field or valley. During that dream there were only three of us left and we were starving. The group included me (blonde, wearing a skirt, blouse and sweater, not at all like I look now), and a small-built man and his wife.

Since we had seen German soldiers down in the valley, the woman decided to run to try to get away, even though we told her she wouldn't make it. We heard shots and the woman made it back into the drain pipe. She told me, "Don't worry, it doesn't hurt as much as you think." That was the last dream I ever had. I believe that is because we were all killed by the soldiers. I was born with a portwine birthmark on the left side of my face. I wonder if that has any relation to my death.

All my dreams were in color and some of the language was in German. I don't speak any language other then English, but in my dreams when I heard German being spoken I understood it. I am now 50 years old. If I ever traveled to Germany and found the town I worked in, I would know my way around.

I am now engaged to a man with a very German name. I looked it up and learned of a German officer with the same last name, same spelling, who was very big during World War II and who worked closely with Hitler. My fiancé and I have joked that we must have known each other before, because when we met, it was like an instant connection.

Wendy Bortugno
Please respond to: john@beyondreligion.com