by Emma Fraser
‘You are too young, perhaps?’
‘It isn’t the time to think of marriage.’
‘You know with your blond hair and pale skin you could almost pass for a German. Are you sure you don’t have German blood in your antecedents?’
Irena made herself hold his gaze, hoping he couldn’t read the revulsion in her eyes. ‘I am Polish.’
She made a show of looking at her watch before rising to her feet again. ‘You really must excuse me. I need to get back to the hospital. They’re expecting me on duty.’ She held out her hand although the thought of touching this man turned her stomach. ‘Goodbye, Oberführer Bilsen.’
He had risen too. He bowed over her hand and clicked his heels together. ‘Goodbye, Fräulein. I look forward to talking to you again.’
Chapter 22
As winter turned to spring and the days grew warmer, they no longer had to forage for firewood just to keep themselves and their patients from freezing. Aside from taking her share of the trips into the ghetto, doing what she could for its occupants, her days followed a familiar routine: work, then something to eat, and perhaps a short walk if the weather was fine. The German presence was less than it had ever been and so far she had managed to avoid bumping in to the major. One afternoon, Irena, Henryk and the nurses were discussing patients when Stanislaw burst into the room, looking agitated. He waited until the nurses had left before he spoke.
‘The Germans have become suspicious. I suppose it was bound to happen. They want to know why we have so many cases of typhus. They’re sending a team in to visit the hospital.’
Icy spiders of fear crept up Irena’s spine. ‘What are we going to do?’ she asked.
‘We are going to keep our cool,’ Henryk said calmly. ‘Remember the results have come from their laboratory.’
‘Then it’s all right?’
‘Not entirely.’
‘Do we know when they are coming?’
‘Tomorrow.’
Irena wasn’t sure how, but Stanislaw and Henryk seemed to have advance warning of what the Germans were going to do. She suspected that one or both of them were part of the underground army – or in contact with them – but she knew better than to ask. The knowledge could only endanger them all.
‘With doctors?’ Irena asked.
‘Experienced doctors,’ Stanislaw replied.
This was bad. A doctor would know as soon as he examined the patients who were reported to have typhus that there was nothing wrong with them – or at least that they didn’t have typhus. It wouldn’t take them long to realise that Henryk and Stanislaw had been deceiving them.
‘I don’t know who is to be part of the team,’ Stanislaw continued, ‘but we must stay calm. We must pretend that everything is as it should be.’
It was mid-afternoon the next day when the German doctors came, two with the rank of major and three more junior officers. Irena’s heart had been in her throat all morning, although she’d been told by Stanislaw and Henryk to keep out of the way.
‘If they discover what we’ve been up to they will arrest us and you will be needed here more than ever. It is better that they believe you to be a nurse or a ward assistant. You will have a chance that way.’
Given that the Germans often shot people who were completely innocent, Irena didn’t care for the chances of anyone who worked at the hospital.
‘If they arrest us, we will say nothing,’ Stanislaw said. He held out a little pill on the palm of his hand. ‘We will die first.’
Irena felt sick. She had grown fond of the two men and the possibility she might have to run the hospital without them didn’t bear thinking about.
Despite her anxiety, she couldn’t help but find an excuse to be near the front door when the Germans arrived. Henryk was there to greet them and introduced Stanislaw who managed an ingratiating smile.
‘It is good of you to come and visit us here,’ Stanislaw said. If the doctors were aware of the irony in his voice they made no sign of it. ‘Although I’m afraid you will find our hospital a little provincial.’
‘It is either a disgrace or there is something wrong here,’ the major said. ‘You have the largest number of patients with typhus in the country.’
Henryk smiled ruefully. ‘It is simple people who live here. They are peasants mainly and their hygiene is not the best. We try to tell them to keep themselves clean.’ He shrugged. ‘But what can we do? When they come to the hospital they are covered in fleas. Of course we disinfect them, but then a family member comes in,’ he spread his hands, ‘and before you know it the fleas are back.’
‘Perhaps you have a solution for us?’ Stanislaw said. ‘Your medicine is ahead of us. We are only simple country doctors.’
Don’t overplay it, Irena thought. They’re not stupid.
But it seemed as if Stanislaw and Henryk had judged it just right. The major’s mouth turned down in distaste. ‘You Poles will never be civilised. You should be grateful that the Reich is willing to show you how you should live.’
Stanislaw’s eyes flashed and Irena sucked in a breath.
‘Now, let us get on with it,’ the major went on, ushering them ahead of him with an impatient wave of his hand. ‘The sooner we have sorted out this problem, the better.’
‘Of course, of course. But you have come a long way. Let us have some refreshments first. Then we will take you to the patients. We have some on the wards – the sickest – the ones who we think will die regardless of what we do. The others, as you know, have been quarantined in their homes as there isn’t space in the hospital for all the sick. After you’ve visited the wards I can take you there so you can see them for yourself.’
‘We will want to take some blood from the infected patients, but perhaps we should have some tea first,’ the captain said, looking at the major. He clearly was in no hurry to examine the patients.
‘Or a little vodka? And something to eat?’ Henryk turned around and indicated to one of the ward assistants who had the misfortune to be passing by to come forward. The woman glanced at Irena, her face slack with fear. Although she wasn’t aware of what they’d been doing, no one wanted to be noticed.
Irena stepped forward, ignoring Henryk’s tight shake of the head. They couldn’t let the Germans think that they had anything to be frightened of.
‘What would you like, Doctor?’ She kept her head bowed submissively and coarsened her accent.
‘Bring some food and a bottle of vodka to my office.’ Henryk clapped his hands. ‘And hurry. We don’t want to keep our visitors waiting.’
If Irena had her way she would put rat poison in the Germans’ drinks. She grabbed the ward assistant by the hand and led her out of hearing. ‘You’ll find what you need on the table in the kitchen. Take it to Dr Palka’s office. Keep your head down and say nothing. Don’t even look at them.’
The woman nodded and scurried away, clearly relieved to be out of sight of the German officers.
Irena waited as Henryk ushered the visitors into his office. Two of the soldiers with them took up positions outside the door while the others remained at the hospital entrance.
None of the soldiers could be long out of their teens, yet many of them had surely used their weapons on women and children. Did any of them have nightmares – or even doubts – about what they were doing? Would they be the ones to shoot her and her colleagues? The German doctors weren’t stupid. As soon as they examined the patients, they would know they had been fooled and retribution was bound to follow. She wished she could pray, but she hadn’t been able to turn to God since the death of the Jewish mother and her child. Whatever happened now, it was out of their hands. All she could do in the meantime was carry on as if everything were normal.
Avoiding the soldiers’ stares she headed back to her patients.
Two hours later, the German doctors arrived on the isolation ward. Surprisingly it was just the three juniors, who couldn’t have been long out of medical school.
Irena continued
to help her patient, a young woman with dysentery, eat her soup, but all the while she watched the doctors from under her lashes. All the patients in the ward with a diagnosis of typhus did have the disease, so it wasn’t them she was worried about. If the junior doctors were here that meant the more experienced medical officers had gone out to the villages with Stanislaw and Henryk to the patients who didn’t really have typhus.
She wondered if she would ever see either of the doctors again.
A nurse hurried over to the German doctors. ‘I understand you are here to see our typhus patients,’ she said.
‘Some syringes and specimen bottles please,’ the captain replied, covering his nose with a handkerchief. Clearly the smell in the ward was getting to him. The nurses had left a pile of soiled sheets in the corner, behind a screen, something they never did. Irena hid a smile. It was a small act of defiance but one that hopefully meant it was unlikely that the doctors would stay a moment longer than they had to.
And it seemed she was right. They took bloods from the three patients without even examining them and wrapped the vials in plastic bags to take away. Nodding curtly to the nurse, they snapped their heels together and left the ward.
It was late afternoon before Stanislaw and Henryk came to find Irena in the laboratory. The two men looked pale and tired but they hadn’t been arrested – at least not yet. A small flame of hope flickered in her chest. Was it possible they had got away with it?
‘Thank God!’ she said. ‘I wasn’t sure I’d see either of you again.’
Henryk perched on a laboratory stool and dragged a hand through his dark hair. As vodka fumes filled the room, she noticed Henryk was decidedly unsteady on the stool while Stanislaw’s eyes were bloodshot.
‘How much have you two had to drink?’
‘I lost count.’ Stanislaw grinned.
‘They might not care for our country and its people but these Germans like our vodka,’ Henryk added. ‘I hope you’re up to taking care of the hospital tonight, Irena. At least until Stanislaw and I have slept it off.’
‘Yes, yes,’ Irena said, ‘but what happened?’
‘It seemed that the major and his lieutenant weren’t too keen to actually examine patients with typhus – especially dirty Poles.’ His lip curled on the last phrase. ‘Particularly not after some decent food and several vodkas. In the end they decided to send the junior officers with Stanislaw while they stayed behind with me to finish the vodka and to discuss the best methods of blood transfusion.’
‘They came up to the ward but they hardly looked at the patients,’ Irena told them. ‘They just took blood and left. I think the fact that the nurses had left a load of faeces-stained linen out of sight and hadn’t opened a window all day might have had something to do with it.’
Henryk’s grin was wide. ‘They did look a little pale around the gills when they came back down.’
Stanislaw slapped his friend on the back. ‘It was the same at each home I took them to. I made sure they were the dirtiest, most overcrowded and the poorest. The Germans could hardly bear to step inside. They didn’t even want to touch the patients – so I took the bloods while they watched and then we left.’
Unsteadied by relief, Irena felt her legs give way. She reached behind her for the bench. ‘So it’s going to be all right?’
‘I don’t see why not,’ Stanislaw said. ‘The bloods will come back positive.’
‘It’s over then?’
Stanislaw yawned. ‘My dear, it’s a long, long way from being over. Let’s just say it’s over for the time being.’
Chapter 23
Irena couldn’t avoid the SS major for ever. Not unless she never put a foot outdoors. It was a week after the doctors’ visit when she almost bumped into him on the pavement.
‘Fräulein,’ he said, clicking his heels together and bowing. ‘I was hoping to see you again.’
As a shard of fear pierced her, she forced a smile.
‘Oberführer Bilsen! I thought you must have been posted elsewhere.’
‘I spend most of my time in Krakow these days, but I thought I should check up on what’s happening in the other areas under my jurisdiction.’ He smiled. ‘I must admit, if we hadn’t met today I would have come to seek you out.’
‘I’m not sure it’s safe for you to be here,’ she said. ‘As you know we have had so much illness in the district.’
He gave her a sharp look. ‘So I’m told,’ he said.
Her heart jerked again. ‘I should get back to the hospital,’ she murmured. She made to pass by him but he blocked her way.
‘Why always in such a hurry? It is lunchtime. I’d be honoured if you will join me for something to eat.’
‘I really do have work to do. Perhaps another time?’ She would rather eat from a rubbish bin than dine with him.
‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist, Fräulein. I don’t care to dine on my own.’
The steel in his eyes chilled her. She wouldn’t put it past him to arrest her – he wouldn’t even have to give a reason. She moistened her lips. ‘Very well. If you like.’
He hooked her arm into his and led her off in the direction of the German part of the village and into one of the cafes reserved for the soldiers of the Reich.
Almost every table was occupied with German army personnel, some with female companions – not every Polish woman stayed away from the Nazis – and the sound of their voices merged with their cigarette smoke. Apart from the language and the military uniforms, it could have been any cafe in Poland before the war.
He pulled out a chair for her. A waiter scuttled over to them with a menu, but the major didn’t even glance at it. ‘Bring me your best bottle of wine and the best meat dish on the menu.’ He smiled at Irena and her skin crawled. ‘I hope you’re hungry?’
Was he serious? He had to know that their rations were barely above starvation levels. She’d almost forgotten what fresh meat tasted like. Saliva flooded her mouth and her stomach clenched. However, she didn’t think she could swallow even a mouthful of food in the company of this man.
‘Not really,’ she lied. ‘I had some soup and bread a short while ago.’
He leaned back in his chair. ‘You must have something, if only to keep a lonely man from eating alone.’
‘You haven’t been back to Berlin to visit your wife?’ she said pointedly.
‘As a matter of fact, I was there two weeks ago.’
‘And she is well?’
‘Of course.’
‘And your children?’
‘They are well too. However, I didn’t invite you to lunch to talk about me. I would much sooner talk about you.’
His words sent waves of panic through her. Was it possible the German doctors hadn’t been deceived? Or that they’d found out that they were helping the Jews? At that moment the waiter appeared and set down a plate of stew and vegetables along with a carafe of wine in front of them.
‘Would you excuse me while I freshen up?’ Irena said. She needed time to collect herself. He mustn’t suspect she had anything to hide. He’d expect a little nervousness – he’d be stupid otherwise, and she knew he wasn’t – but she mustn’t show how terrified she felt.
‘Of course,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘Don’t be too long. We don’t want our food to get cold.’
She rinsed her face and hands with cold water and, leaning against the rim of the basin, drew in a shuddering breath. She had to stay calm and answer his questions as best she could without giving anything, or anyone, away.
When she returned he leaped to his feet again and once more held out her chair for her.
‘What did you do before the war?’ she asked. If only she could keep him talking about himself.
‘I was a teacher,’ he replied. ‘Of physics.’
‘Really?’ She couldn’t help but show her surprise.
He studied her. ‘And you? Were you always a nurse?’
‘I’ve always wanted to care for people,’ sh
e replied evasively.
‘Please, eat.’ He gestured to her plate. Reluctantly she picked up her fork.
‘Are you not frightened that you’ll get the disease, this typhus, from the people you look after?’
She couldn’t tell whether he was genuinely interested or sounding her out. ‘It is a chance I have to take. I’m safe as long as I follow the rules of good hygiene. Wash my hands after seeing to each patient, that sort of thing.’
‘You know you don’t have to stay here. You could come with me to Krakow. As my guest. You must miss your old home.’
