Millions of Pebbles

by Roberta Kagan

  “Then I will arrange what I can for you.”

  “But . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “I would prefer to go to America, if it’s possible,” she said.

  “America?” He rubbed his hand over his chin. “Really?”

  “Yes, I would.”

  He let out a laugh. “Anything is possible . . . if . . .”

  “If?”

  “If you have enough gold, jewels, etcetera.”

  “I’ll get them.”

  “If you can get them, I’ll do what I can to see that the arrangements are to your liking.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips. He smiled. “So perhaps I will make a trip to Ravensbrück next month to see you.”

  “I would like that.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Three days later, Ilsa was sitting in the dining car of a train headed back to Germany. She had just finished her evening meal when a distinguished-looking man approached her. “May I join you?” he asked, his voice thick with an accent she did not recognize.

  “Yes, of course.”

  He sat down but did not introduce himself. Instead, he waited until the waiter came to place his order.

  “What can I get for you, sir?”

  “Nothing, thank you,” the man said. After the waiter left, he took a cigarette out of his pocket. “Would you like one?” he asked.

  “Yes, thank you.” She took a cigarette, and he lit it.

  “What is your name?” he asked. She was trying to place his accent; it was not German or Austrian. Perhaps it was Spanish?

  She stared at him. “Why do you ask my name?” Then in a huff, she added, “What is your name?”

  “My name is of no importance. But I am going to need to see your papers before I talk to you.”

  She didn’t trust him. “I am not going to show you my papers.”

  “Indeed,” he said, taking a puff from his cigarette. “Let’s just say that we have a mutual friend. His name is Otto.”

  “Otto? I don’t know anyone by the name of Otto,” Ilsa said, puffing on her cigarette.

  “Perhaps you know him by Adolf? Adolf Eichmann?”

  “I know him,” she said. Her eyes opened wide.

  “Well, he asked me to meet you here on this train. However, it will be necessary for me to see your papers before I go any further.”

  Ilsa showed him her papers.

  He nodded. “Come to my private cabin, number thirty, in ten minutes.”

  Then he stood up and left.

  Ilsa sat back in her chair and watched the man walk down the hall. He’d mentioned Eichmann. That could mean he was someone Eichmann had sent to help her with her escape. Or this man could be an enemy of the Obersturmbannführer’s who might use her as a means of revenge. It was a bit risky to go to a strange man’s cabin, but she had no choice. After she paid the waiter for her dinner, she walked down to Cabin 30. She knocked.

  “Who is it?”

  “Ilsa Guhr.” Once she was inside, he locked the door.

  “Sit down,” he commanded.

  She did as she was told.

  “I am with a secret organization called ODESSA. Eichmann gave me your name and told me to take this train in order to find you. He’s instructed me that you are looking for aid. Someone to help you leave Germany if it so happens that you need to leave.”

  “You mean you are the person who will help me get out if there is no doubt that Germany is losing the war, and those of us involved with the camps need to get out quickly?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  Ilsa nodded. “ Would you be able to get me to America?”

  “That is not for you to know right now. Right now, you should be grateful that you will be able to get away. I predict things are going to be very bad for those of you who were high up in the party,” he answered sharply. “I will need an address for where you can be located, and I will need gold and or diamonds.”

  She expected as much. “I have diamonds and gold. But I don’t have them with me.”

  “Where can I send someone to collect payment?”

  “Ravensbrück Concentration Camp. I am a guard.”

  He nodded. “Good.”

  “What guarantee do I have that I will ever hear from you again once I have paid?”

  “None. You have no guarantee. You will just have to trust me.”

  “Hmm.” She bit her lip. “I don’t know.”

  Then his voice grew warmer, and he smiled. “Don’t worry. There are plenty of Nazi sympathizers who are just waiting to help you escape if you need to.”

  “For a hefty price,” she said.

  “Of course. There is a price for everything, my dear. Nothing in life is free.”

  She nodded. “I will expect someone to come and collect payment.”

  CHAPTER 32

  After work one night when Ilsa was getting ready for bed, a man knocked at the door of her room. She knew instantly who it was. He identified himself. “I’m here to collect your payment,” was all he said.

  She had already prepared a box of jewels for him. She knew that it had better be a sufficient amount, or ODESSA might keep her payment but never deliver on their promise. So she divided all she had into quarters and placed three quarters of the jewelry into the box, leaving a little for herself. In the back of her mind she planned to have Hilde increase the stealing so that she could replenish what she’d just given away. There was a large three-carat diamond among the things she’d taken, that she truly fancied. She held it up to the light and marveled at how it shimmered. I don’t want to give up this beautiful diamond, but I am going to have to put this in the box if I want to be taken seriously.

  She handed the man the box. He did not open it. He thanked her, then turned and walked back out into the night.

  She wondered how he’d gotten in and out of the camp. He must be working with other guards here who let him come and go as he pleases, she thought. So there must be plenty of others just like me who are also looking for an escape route. It was treason to discuss Hitler’s possible defeat, but Ilsa was beginning to believe that it was probable, probable enough to have given a stranger a bag of gold and diamonds.

  After the strange man left, taking her payment, Ilsa did not hear from anyone concerning her plans. She was disappointed that Eichmann didn’t call or come to visit either. And she began to fear that she might have been taken. If she was, there was no one to complain to. The goods she’d given the stranger were stolen from the Reich, and then she’d used them to engage in treasonous activity. So if she never heard from any of them again, she would have no choice but to bear the loss in silence.

  CHAPTER 33

  September, Auschwitz

  On the morning following the murder when everyone was at roll call, the Nazi guards announced that they found Rumkowski, the old Judenrat from the Lodz ghetto, beaten to death in the crematorium.

  Ben kept his eyes glued to the ground as the guards walked through the lines of men trying to look in their eyes and see if they could determine who was responsible. But for some reason, unbeknownst to Ben, that was the end of it. There was no further investigation. A month had passed since Rumkowski’s murder. With the exception of Jake, Ben never saw any of the other prisoners who’d been involved in the incident, again. And although he and Jake had grown closer since that fateful night, neither of them ever spoke of what happened. They remained good friends and continued to play cards with Isaac on Sunday. Occasionally, someone in the block would mention something that had happened with Rumkowski back when they were in the Lodz ghetto and a brief look would pass between Jake and Ben. But it was only a momentary connection that was gone as quickly it had appeared.

  Sometimes there were quiet whispered conversations among the prisoners in the block at night. They’d heard rumors that the Nazis were losing the war. Ben often wondered if there was any truth behind these claims or if the poor prisoners were just wishfully thinking.
He’d heard that America had entered the war, and that Germany had suffered great losses on the eastern front. Some of the prisoners had given up, but there were those who held out hope that the Americans were on their way to liberate the camps. He wished, with all his heart, that it would happen. Sometimes he would have dreams of American soldiers bursting into the camp and shooting the Nazi guards. But in the morning, when he opened his eyes, he was still starving and still wearing his striped uniform, and the bedbugs were still leaving itching and burning welts all over his emaciated body.

  As he’d promised Ben, Jake had tried to find out if Zelda was in the women’s camp. He’d asked everyone he knew, who had any contact with the women’s camp, to check and see if they could find out anything about Zelda Lipman. But no one had heard of her. Ben was disappointed and worried. He hoped she’d been sent somewhere other than Auschwitz, somewhere better. However, deep in his heart, he was certain that she’d probably been sent to Auschwitz and gassed when she arrived. The thought of her and the children dying so young tore at his heart, and sometimes he wanted to give up. He’d entertained thoughts of running toward the barbed wire. In his mind he could see and hear the guards in the overhead tower shooting him down. At least if he were dead, this would be over. But something inside stopped him. Something told him that things would get better if only he would just hold on.

  On a Sunday in late September, Ben returned from work to find Isaac hunched over and weeping as he sat on their bed.

  “Are you sick?” Ben asked Isaac, who was sitting on his cot slumped over.

  “No, it’s Jake.”

  “Where is he? Is he sick?”

  “He didn’t come here tonight to play cards. You know how he usually gets here a couple of hours before you get off of work. So I walked over to his block and asked one of the other prisoners who worked with him if they knew where he was.” Isaac was trembling. His hands lay on his lap. There was no flesh on his hands; they were just bones covered with a thin layer of skin like the hands of a skeleton. The prisoner I talked to told me that the Nazis gassed a whole group of sonderkommandos this morning. Jake tried to run. He didn’t go into the showers willingly. He tried to get away. But they shot him. He’s dead.”

  “Oh my God,” Ben said. “Oh my God.” He walked away from Isaac. Unable to catch his breath, Ben went outside. Standing alone in the semidarkness he looked up into the sky and cried out, “Why, God? Why have you taken everyone and everything away from me? And yet you don’t take me? Why? Why do you let me go on living to suffer alone?” Then he fell to the ground, and with his face in the dirt, he wept.

  CHAPTER 34

  September 1944

  Sometimes, even though Ben was exhausted, he would wake up in the middle of the night sweating and crying. I should have given up all hope by now. I should be an empty shell with no feelings left inside me, just waiting to die. So many of the other people in here are that way. And yet I am still haunted by a tiny spark of hope, still praying that Zelda and Moishe might be alive. I am still longing to believe that all this will end, and things will get better. The human spirit is so strange, the will to live so strong, so desperately, miserably strong.

  One night during dinner, Ben was ladling out the watery soup when Paul held out his bowl.

  “Do you remember me?” Paul asked.

  “Yes.” Ben nodded.

  “Move along,” one of the prisoners from the back of the line said in a testy voice. “We’re hungry, and at this pace there won’t be time to finish before the whistle sounds.”

  “I’d like to talk to you. Can you meet me in Crematorium Three tonight after you finish work?”

  “Yes, I’ll come,” Ben said, wondering if perhaps Jake had mentioned Caleb Ornstein to Paul before he died, and perhaps Paul had some information on Caleb.

  After work, Ben quickly went to meet Paul who was waiting outside Crematorium III. “Come, let’s take a short walk. What I have to say is for your ears alone. I don’t want to risk anyone else hearing us.”

  Ben nodded and fell into step beside Paul.

  Paul said, “You remember that I work as one of the sonderkommandos? I was a good friend of Jake's. He always spoke very highly of you.”

  “He was a dear friend,” Ben said. “I miss him every day.”

  “Yes, so do I. And because Jake trusted you, I feel that I can trust you too.”

  “What is it that you want to tell me?” Ben kicked a stone with his shoe.

  “You must swear that you will not tell anyone what I am about to tell you. Because if one thing goes wrong with this plan, the entire scheme will fall apart, and everyone involved will be executed.”

  “Go on. What plan are you talking about?”

  “Swear that you will not tell a soul.”

  “You have my word.”

  “All right, then. I’ll tell you. Do you know the Nazis have been killing off the men in the sonderkommandos?”

  “Yes, I know. Just like they did to poor Jake.”

  “Exactly. The men in the sonderkommandos believe that the Nazis plan to execute all of them.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. Nothing they do surprises me anymore,” Ben said in a somber voice.

  “We, those of us in the sonderkommandos, are planning an uprising. “

  “An uprising?”

  “Yes, we’ve had enough. I had to dispose of the bodies of my father and sister. I was forced to sort through their possessions. I thought I would die when I had to put the pocket watch that I gave my father into a pile for the Nazis—my own father, my own sister. For God’s sake, after they were dead, I was forced to shave my sister’s hair and remove my father’s gold tooth. I want revenge. I want to spill some Nazi blood.”

  “How many of you are there? I thought they were killing everyone in the sonderkommandos.”

  “Yes, they’ve been killing us off, and there aren’t as many of us as there were. But we’ve joined with a very strong group of nineteen Soviet prisoners of war who are going to help us. We need men who can be trusted and who will be willing to take great risks to help us with this uprising.”

  “And you want me to help?”

  “Yes.”

  Ben reflected for a moment. “What do you want me to do?”

  “We need weapons. Do you receive the dirty trays from the women's camp?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you get direct access to them?”

  “Sure. All I would have to do is ask for clean-up duty,” Ben said.

  “We have a connection with some of the girls who work at the Weichsel Union Metallwerke.”

  “That’s a munitions factory, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. These women have been smuggling explosives in the bottom of their food trays, but the fellow they were working with in the kitchen recently became ill. He’s been taken to the hospital. We have no doubt he’ll never be seen or heard from again.”

  “Was it Simon Lebowitz?”

  “Yes, you knew him?”

  “Not really. I knew who he was, and I knew he got sick. I never knew he was working on something like this. May I ask how long you have been preparing for this?”

  “Since June.”

  “From the size of the trays, I’d assume these will be very small amounts of explosives,” Ben said..

  “You’re right, but they add up. Like I said, we’ve been working on this for a while now. Are you with us?”

  “I’m with you,” Ben said. “For Jake.”

  “Good. Very good. You’ll start tomorrow at dinner. You’ll have to be very careful and very discreet. Make sure no one knows what you are doing, and be sure to check every tray. Even if you think you can trust a fellow, don’t tell him. These girls are putting their lives at risk to smuggle these explosives to us. Make sure you don’t miss anything.”

  The whistle sounded. “What do I do with the explosives once I have them?”

  “Bring them here to me each night as soon as you’ve finished work.”

 
CHAPTER 35

  The following day after work, Ben brought four small collections of powder, each of them folded carefully into a tiny piece of paper.

  “There should be another one,” Paul said.

  “This was all I found.”

  “There is no room for error, Rabinowitz. Like I told you before, the women are going to great lengths to get this stuff out to us. You must not overlook even one. Do you understand me? Be more careful. Please.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ben said. He was angry with himself, although cleanup was not his favorite job because it posed no opportunity to steal an extra potato skin or bit of carrot. After all, no one ever left a thing on their tray. And he had to be so careful that no one noticed him searching through the trays. However, the very idea of an uprising had somehow breathed new life into him. It had given him a reason to continue to fight to live another day.

  “We believe that there will be opportunity for escape during the uprising. The guards hardly expect any of this of us, and so everything will be very chaotic.”

  “Do you have any other weapons besides the ones I am collecting? Guns?” Ben asked.

  “We have hammers, axes, things that some of the prisoners have been able to steal from their jobs.”

  “It all sounds very ambitious. I am hopeful that we can pull it off. But to be honest with you, I don’t know where I would go if I were able to get out of here,” Ben said. “I have no home, no family left.”

  “None of us do. If you can get out, run like hell until you can get into the forest. Then search until you can find a group of partisans.”

  “If I don’t, then I will starve to death alone in the forest,” Ben said.

  “But you’ll starve a free man, yes? If you stay here, eventually the Nazis will murder you. So, I say, if you must die, it’s far better to die on your own terms than to be murdered by these bastards.”