night 2
Storyboard Text
- (Chapter VII) The Survival of Two
- (Chapter VIII) Perservierence
- (Chapter IX) Freedom
- "I tried to distinguish the living from those who were no more, but there was barely a difference."
- " Do not yell, my son... have pity on your old father... let me rest here... a little...i beg of you"
- "At 6 o'clock that afternoon the first American tank stood at the gates of Buchenwald"
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