Millions of Pebbles

by Roberta Kagan

  It was early November, and a dagger of fear struck through Ilsa’s heart when she thought about the upcoming winter. Having nowhere else to go, she walked to the train station and sat down on the bench. Looking around the crowded station, she felt like crying. That bastard stole all my money. Now I have to find a job in a hurry, she thought. I need a place to stay. Sitting here is accomplishing nothing. Her stomach growled with hunger too. So she got up and walked back into town. All day long she went from shop to shop looking for employment, until she saw a woman’s dress shop. The sign above the store said Weinstein’s Fine Apparel for Women. The large picture window was filled with lovely dresses and suits. Ilsa looked down at her worn-out, handmade dress, and she turned away. I can’t go in there looking like this, she thought. But what difference does it make? So what if they laugh at me? I am so hungry that I can’t keep wandering around. And as it is, I am going to have to go back to the train station to spend the night. She entered the dress shop and huddled in the corner. There was a man and his wife behind the counter and several elegantly dressed women scanning the clothing racks. The man was short and heavyset; his wife was short but slender. The wife spotted Ilsa and came out from behind the counter. She wore black, high-heeled pumps that clicked on the floor as she walked over to Ilsa.

  “Can I help you, dear?” the woman asked.

  Ilsa shook her head, and intimidated, she turned to walk out of the store.

  “Wait,” the woman said.

  Ilsa turned around.

  “You look hungry. Are you?”

  “Yes, I am very hungry. And I need a job,” Ilsa said, then she fabricated a story. She told the woman that she had come to Berlin with her new husband, and he left her there alone.

  “Well, that’s terrible. Why don’t you follow me, and let’s see if we can’t get you something to eat.”

  Ilsa felt tears welling in her eyes. “Thank you.”

  “Marsha, get this girl some latkes, will you?”

  A pretty, young girl with dark hair and bright blue eyes came walking out of the back of the store. “Of course, Mama,” she said.

  “I’m Esther Weinstein. This is my husband, Sam, and this is our daughter, Marsha.” The older woman said, “You look to be close to Marsha’s age. What’s your name, child?”

  “I’m Ilsa Guhr.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Marsha set a plate of latkes in front of Ilsa. “I’m afraid they might have gotten cold. They were left from our lunch, but that was several hours ago. I hope you enjoy them anyway.”

  Ilsa gobbled the latkes with a dollop of applesauce. She ate so fast that she couldn’t stop to speak.

  “We could use some help here in the store, couldn’t we, Sam?” Esther Weinstein said.

  “Sure. We can always use help here.”

  “Let’s get you a few dresses to wear when you’re working. And, by the way . . . where are you staying right now?”

  Ilsa looked down. “I was going to sleep in the train station."

  “Nonsense. We have a room right here behind the store. You can stay here.”

  Ilsa began to cry. “Thank you,” she said. “Why are you being so kind to me?”

  “It’s a mitzva. Thank you for allowing me to do a mitzva.” Esther smiled. “That means a blessing. I am blessed because I am able to help you.”

  In the beginning, Ilsa was grateful to the Weinsteins for their generosity, but as the months passed, and she watched Marsha waltz out of the shop after work with her wealthy American boyfriend, wearing lovely dresses and delicate jewelry, jealousy began to stir in Ilsa.

  That summer, Marsha took Ilsa to Munich for a few days to thank her for all her hard work. The Weinsteins adored their daughter and they indulged her. She attended university and took piano lessons. Even though Marsha was very kind to Ilsa, Ilsa resented her. Ilsa’s father had never loved her like that, and she could hardly remember her real mother.

  Winter came again, and this time the Weinsteins gave Ilsa a brand new wool coat for Christmas. Even though they celebrated Hanukkah, they wanted Ilsa to feel like a part of the family. They wanted her to know that they accepted and respected her religion too.

  Ilsa’s jealousy started small but it grew, and as it did, Ilsa began to plan revenge. Using her sexuality as a weapon again, she set about to seduce Marsha’s boyfriend. He succumbed to her sexual advances rather quickly. However, when she threatened to tell Marsha what had happened between them, hoping to hurt them both, she was disappointed to find out that Marsha and the American were only childhood friends. He had come to Berlin to study art for the winter. They had no plans to marry. Marsha intended to start medical school. She had plans to become a doctor. This infuriated Ilsa even more. However, Marsha’s American friend didn’t trust Ilsa. He told Marsha everything that happened between himself and Ilsa, and he warned that Ilsa was not a friend to the Weinsteins, especially Marsha. Marsha told her parents what her boyfriend said, and they fired Ilsa.

  “Can I just stay the night? I’m so sorry for what happened. I know you don’t believe me, but it was all his fault. He seduced me. I don’t know why I let it happen. I got caught up,” Ilsa begged, with tears in her eyes. Now that she had to face the consequences for her actions, she regretted having done such a pointless and stupid thing. “Please, I’m begging you. It’s so bitter cold outside. And it’s late.”

  “Very well, we aren’t going to turn you out in the middle of the night. But it’s best that you go as soon as possible,” Mrs. Weinstein said.

  “I will leave early in the morning. You won’t see me again.”

  Mrs. Weinstein didn’t say another word. She turned and left the store.

  Ilsa sat on the cot where she’d slept since she’d begun working for the Weinsteins. She was angry at herself for doing what she’d done. Why do I do these things? Why can’t I Iet myself be happy? I had a place to stay that was rent free. It was clean and warm too. The Weinsteins gave me a decent job. It didn’t pay a fortune, but it was enough. Why did I ever do this? I was blinded by hate and jealousy of that girl. It wasn’t my fault it was hers. Her’s and her parents. If they had not had so much money and flaunted their wealth in my face, I would never have been so jealous. And now that bitch, Mrs. Weinstein, is sending me away in the middle of winter. Well, that’s just fine. I’ll leave. I’ll go away and never come back. I have some money saved from the money I earned. I’ll be fine. But first I am going to make them pay for what they did to me . . .”

  Ilsa took the scissors out of the drawer and walked from the backroom apartment, where she slept, into the main store. Rage filled her. Her hands shook. And by the time she was done, she had cut up all the dresses in the store that were not in her size. Then she packed the ones that fit her, along with her own clothes, and walked out without locking the shop door.

  An icy wind bit her cheeks as she entered the train station. She boarded a train which took her to the other side of Berlin where she rented a cheap hotel room.

  CHAPTER 50

  Ilsa floundered. She could not find a place for herself. First she found a job working in a factory. It was long hours and she hated it. One day she left her machine unattended to go outside and smoke. Her recklessness caused another worker to be hurt in an accident. She was let go.

  Next she was hired as a waitress in a restaurant where she lasted for almost two years. The other waitresses were more friendly and outgoing than Ilsa. They made the customers feel comfortable, and consequently they were more well liked. They got the better shifts and were treated better in general. Ilsa blamed the owner for giving the others preferential treatment, deciding that the owner, through no fault of her own, just didn’t like her. So she began stealing money. At first she only took a little. But soon she was taking more and more from the money box each night she worked. When she was caught by the owner, he threatened to press charges. But she wept and carried on so much that he, a nonconfrontational man, finally said, “I won’t call the police. But
get out of here, and don’t come back. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  By 1939, Ilsa was miserable and desperate. When she left home, she hadn’t thought that living on her own would be so difficult and that earning her own living would be a daily grind. And over the past few years Ilsa had developed a love for cigarettes and alcohol, both of which put a financial drain on her. The small hotel room she rented was a dingy, rat-infested place with a small kitchen and a lumpy mattress that had bedbugs. The bathroom down the hall was a breeding ground for cockroaches that were bold enough to run across the walls as soon as the light was turned on. She spent all her free time alone because she had no friends. Most nights after work she went to her room and drank. However, occasionally, when she was out of beer or schnapps, she went to the local tavern to have a drink. It was on such a night that Ilsa’s life was changed forever.

  She sat at the bar drinking a beer. The bartender had the radio on loud enough for all the patrons to hear. Ilsa took a sip of her beer when she heard the familiar voice of Dr. Goebbels on the radio. He was speaking about how the führer was Germany’s savior. She’d heard him speak before, and there was no doubt that he was well spoken and very logical. Then Dr. Goebbels introduced the führer, Adolf Hitler. The führer’s strong voice came through the radio, quiet at first, building momentum, persuasive and full of promise until it filled the entire room. Everyone in the tavern grew quiet to listen. Including Ilsa. She was mesmerized by the power in the führer’s voice. And the truth she heard in his words resonated with her. Before she knew it, she and all the other people in the tavern were clapping and cheering for Adolf Hitler. They were raising their hands to salute him almost as if he were right there in person in the tavern instead of just a voice on the radio. It was exhilarating. Hitler was promising a better world for the German people. Promising to restore Germany to the greatness it deserved. And promising to take back all that the Jews had stolen from the Germans and return it to its rightful owners. Not only was he making these promises, he was making them with such conviction that Ilsa truly believed that every vow he made to the German people would be fulfilled.

  A man who was sitting at the bar a few feet away from Ilsa smiled at her. He was not handsome, but he wore a uniform that gave him an air of power and superiority. She returned his smile.

  “Our führer is quite marvelous, isn’t he?” the man said.

  “He is,” Ilsa agreed.

  “He will save Germany. I know it.”

  “I believe he will.”

  “I’m Oberstrumbannführer Fredrich, but you can call me Wolfgang. And your name?”

  “I’m Ilsa Guhr,” she said.

  “Are you hungry, Ilsa? Can I buy you dinner?”

  She smiled and nodded. By the time they’d finished eating, he had offered her a job working as a guard at the first prison camp that the Nazis were building which would be only for women. It was to be opening in the spring. He made the job sound important and glamorous.

  “Not only will you be helping to rid the Reich of her enemies, but you will be paid good wages and live in nice accommodations right on the grounds.”

  Ilsa smiled.

  She was also promised beautiful, well-made uniforms to wear. Ilsa was elated. This new job proposition seemed to be everything she could have hoped for. It seemed to be a solution to all her problems. The name of the prison camp was Ravensbrück.

  CHAPTER 51

  Before Ilsa started working at Ravensbrück, she’d been looked down upon by the owners of the business where she worked. She became known as a drifter. And she always felt insecure because she was at the mercy of the whims of her bosses.

  But once she started to work at Ravensbrück and the prisoners arrived, Ilsa found herself in a place of power. Never before had anyone shown her respect. Never before had she had so much control over others. All her life, Ilsa felt beneath the other girls she met. In school she’d been teased mercilessly. Then once she became an adult she always felt like an outsider. It was easy for her to use her sexuality to control men, but women never seemed to accept her. Ilsa hated these women, but she enjoyed dominating them. So she began to delve into the inner depths of her own depravation. Ilsa found there were very few rules as to what she was allowed to do to the prisoners. She imposed sadistic sexual torture on the prisoners: sometimes beating them, sometimes even killing them.

  For the first time in her life, Ilsa felt like she was coming out of her shell, and she began exploring all sorts of new things. On occasion, she had sexual encounters with the other female guards. And then there were numerous dates and one-night stands with the male SS officers, some married, others not. Most of the time she had no emotions at all. She could go through the motions of a complete relationship and feel nothing at all.

  Only one person, whom she met at Ravensbrück, touched her cold heart. His dark hair was shiny like black leather. His eyes were deep and mysterious. He was meticulously clean, handsome, and educated. A doctor. One of the prison doctors who was notorious for his sadistic experiments on the prisoners. He and Ilsa had worked together for a while. From the first time she met him, she felt connected to him as she had never felt to any other person. They had wild and experimental sex. But when he found out about her appetite for homosexual encounters, he said he could overlook anything but that. And he broke off the relationship. Then without saying goodbye to Ilsa, he moved to another prison. Ilsa was heartbroken. She was not ready to let him go, so she kept in contact with him by sending him letters or calling him. And even though he was cruel to her when he occasionally dropped in to see her, she could not resist him. Ilsa continued to sleep with him whenever he wanted her.

  Then one afternoon, Ilsa was called to the office of her superior where she was given new orders. “I want you to show a new recruit around the camp,” her superior officer said. “Her name is Hilde Dusel. Show her to her quarters, and tell her what is expected of her. Understand?”

  “Yes,” Ilsa answered in a firm voice.

  She hadn’t thought much of the new assignment. After all, Ilsa had introduced several new recruits to Ravensbrück. However, from the first moment she saw Hilde, something inside her was uneasy. Hilde reminded her of herself when she was young, fat and unattractive. Her feelings toward Hilde were mixed; she found the heavy girl repugnant, and at the same time, she felt a need to keep Hilde close to her. Ilsa could not put this girl out of her mind. She yearned to play with Hilde, to toy with her mind and her body, but she didn’t know why.

  Ilsa seduced Hilde. The sex between them was both appalling and fascinating to Ilsa. It almost felt like she was having sex with her younger self.

  Hilde made it clear that she had not really liked their sexual encounter, but she made it understood that she deeply valued Ilsa’s friendship. Whenever Ilsa saw Hilde, she was excited by the admiration she saw in Hilde’s eyes. This was fun for Ilsa. And she wanted to see just how far she could push Hilde. So one night she arranged for Hilde to join her in one of her sessions where she sexually tortured female prisoners. Ilsa saw the fear in Hilde’s eyes, and it made her laugh. But she also saw that Hilde was excited by the power. This aspect of Hilde fascinated Ilsa far more than the prisoners who had no choice but to bend to her will.

  Each day, Ilsa explored her sick obsession with Hilde pushing things harder and further. She would treat Hilde like a best friend, and then in the next breath, she would humiliate her. Ilsa enjoyed the confusion she saw in Hilde’s eyes.

  One day, Ilsa didn’t even know why she did it, Ilsa called Hilde by her old nickname “Butterball.” The look of hurt on Hilde’s face made Ilsa smile. I have the power to make her happy or make her sad. I can decide if she is miserable here at Ravensbrück or if she feels welcome. I control her like she is my own fat, little marionette.

  But as time passed and Ilsa’s cruelty toward Hilde increased, Hilde began to pull away from Ilsa. Ilsa did not acknowledge that she was losing her friend because she treated Hilde so poorly. Ilsa was quit
e sure Hilde did not want her around because Axel, Hilde’s fiancé, had become attracted to Ilsa. Well, who could blame him after all. I am beautiful, and Hilde is ugly. Ilsa could not help herself from flirting shamelessly with Axel, especially in front of Hilde. She enjoyed the distress she saw in Hilde’s eyes and the power she had over her.

  Then Hilde and Axel were married. Ilsa had expected to go to the wedding. But Hilde had purposely arranged things so that Ilsa would not be able to attend. Ilsa was livid. Then to make matters worse, she discovered that Hilde had invited another girl, whom she called her best friend. This was a girl Hilde knew from her childhood in Berlin. Her name was Gretchen. Ilsa was jealous of Gretchen. Who was this girl whom Hilde had dared to choose over her? Ilsa vowed to someday make Hilde pay for the slight.

  Hilde got pregnant quickly, but she had an early miscarriage, then she conceived again within a couple of months. And because of her problems with her first pregnancy, the doctor suggested that Hilde stop working and get plenty of rest. So Hilde left her job at Ravensbrück. Ilsa thought that Hilde would stay in contact with her but she didn’t. In fact, months passed without any word from Hilde. The next time Ilsa heard anything about Hilde, she learned that Hilde had gone to Berlin to visit her friend Gretchen. Ilsa felt left out. She had thrived on Hilde’s worship of her, and now that she’d lost that worship, she needed to get it back. Ilsa needed to feel that she was in control of Hilde. And because of this, she was sick with jealousy over the relationship between Hilde and Gretchen. Each day that passed made her more angry. She thought of Hilde and how Hilde had replaced her so easily, and Ilsa was overcome with a strong need to hurt Hilde.

  Three days later, to add to her dark mood, Ilsa overheard some SS officers talking at a party. The officers didn’t realize anyone was listening, so they spoke candidly. They said things were looking bleak for Germany, and it looked as if the fatherland would lose the war. If this proved to be true, Ilsa needed to secure a safe place to escape. However, to do this she would need money, plenty of money. She had saved, working for the Reich, but not enough to pay for papers and safe passage out of the country if things did go sour. She had to find a way to get her hands on valuables. If these men were right and Germany did lose the war, reichsmarks would be worthless.