The Road to Liberation: Trials and Triumphs of WWII

by Marion Kummerow

  “Thank you, Trudi. I don’t know if we should stay. We may have led the Gestapo straight to you. I wasn’t thinking. I just had to get away, they broke up the whole house, every dish and…” Mrs. Bernstein dissolved into tears. Trudi gathered the woman to her and half-carried, half-dragged her to sit down on the couch.

  “Heinz, a glass of water please for Mrs. Bernstein and take the girls into Tomas. They will be company for each other.”

  He did as he was told, without argument. As he gave Mrs. Bernstein the glass of water, he listened to her story. They had destroyed everything. What about his Oma and Opa? They lived further away. Were they safe?

  3

  The noises outside escalated, as the sounds of stamping boots came closer. Mrs. Bernstein seemed to recover. She stood up, took off the fur coat and gave it to Trudi.

  “Try to hide it. Together with any other valuables you have. The stuff that is easy to carry. They’ll fill their pockets with your gold, your diamonds.”

  Trudi flushed, her eyes looking at the floor. “There isn’t much left. I have been using them for food.”

  Mrs. Bernstein held her hands out to Trudi who clasped them to her. “My dear, we all have to do what we can to survive. We don’t have much time. Get your jewels now. Ruth, Rachel, come here please.”

  The girls came forward, they hadn’t stayed in the bedroom but all three children had taken up residence behind the couch as if by staying closer to the adults they would be safer. Trudi ran to the bedroom she shared with Papa and returned carrying some jewelry. Heinz recognized one piece as his mother’s engagement ring. He’d never seen Trudi wear it and had assumed it was buried with his mother. Mrs. Bernstein picked it up, the large diamonds sparkling against the darkness.

  “Now children this is a game. You know how we play hide and seek? I want you to do that with Mrs. Beck’s jewelry. Ruth put this ring in your shoe and don’t take it off. Don’t tell anyone you have it.”

  “Yes, Mama.” Ruth put the ring in her stocking and then put her shoe back on, wincing as she tried to put her foot on the ground.

  “Good girl. You can pretend you hurt your ankle and that’s why you are walking funny.” She turned to Rachel, “put these on Rachel, hide them wherever you can think of.” She gave Rachel a pile of jewelry that the girl took with her to the bedroom. When she returned, there wasn’t a piece visible.

  “Your engagement ring Trudi, take it off and put it somewhere else. Be quick.”

  “But I…”

  “Quickly. This is no time for arguments.” As she spoke, Mrs. Bernstein undressed Liesl and wrapped up some jewelry in her diaper, before redressing the child. All the time Liesl didn’t cry but she didn’t giggle either. She just stared. Mrs. Bernstein gave her a cuddle before handing her to Trudi. “She’s just a beauty, isn’t she? Best to put her back to sleep in the bed with the little ones.”

  “Now, children, I want you to lie down in the bed and stay there no matter what happens. I will tell you to get up if you have to. Otherwise, you are not to move.”

  “Not even for the bathroom?” Tomas piped up, a look of concern on his face.

  “No, Tomas darling, not even for that. We need you to be little soldiers. Can you do that and obey the order to stay in bed? The girls need you to protect them, as you are the man.”

  Heinz watched, in amusement, as his younger brother’s chest pushed out. Tomas took Ruth’s hand and led the girl to the bedroom as if she was younger and not almost six months older. Rachel looked at her mama before she took Liesl with her.

  “Now Heinz,” Mrs. Bernstein turned to him.

  “I’m not sheltering in the bedroom.”

  Mrs. Bernstein gave him a look that would have caused Hitler to rattle in his boots. He was about to apologize when the banging started on the door.

  “Open up, you filthy vermin. Open or we will bash the door in.”

  Mrs. Bernstein moved toward the door but Trudi put her hand out. “This is my home. I will answer the door. You take a seat and let’s try to be as civilized as possible with these animals.”

  Trudi took a deep breath before she opened the door, just as a solider attempted to break it down.

  “Gentlemen. How can I help you?”

  Heinz watched, as the men stopped, as if taken by surprise to be greeted with such politeness. Then an officer stepped forward.

  “Out of my way. We are looking for Beck. He is to come with us immediately.”

  “My husband isn’t here. As you can see it is only us ladies and the children. You are welcome to search the property.” Trudi stood, straight as an arrow, still pretending that it was her choice to invite them in. It seemed like it was working too. The men lost the earlier swagger they had.

  The officer directed two of the men to search. Heinz would have been amused in other circumstances as the two men took apart everything in the room. How they expected a grown man to hide inside a cushion was beyond him? But then it was just an excuse to pull apart the cushions and other furnishings. When they got to the children’s room the screaming made them hesitate.

  “Shut those kids up, or we will.”

  Trudi rushed to the room to comfort the children, with Mrs. Bernstein following suit but she was stopped.

  “You don’t live here?” The officer grabbed Mrs. Bernstein roughly by the arm.

  She looked at the hand on her arm and then into the man’s face.

  “Unhand me you lout. I am visiting a friend. Since when is that against the law.”

  Heinz held his breath. The man’s face twisted in anger before he drew his arm back and slapped Mrs. Bernstein across the face, knocking her to the floor.

  “It’s late and after curfew. Your sort shouldn’t be on the streets.”

  “I wasn’t out on the street. I live…” but whatever she was going to say next was drowned out by a second slap. Heinz had seen enough. He stepped forward and grabbed the man’s arm just as he was about to deliver a third slap.

  “Did your mother bring you up to hit women, you oaf? Let’s see how you like to be hit.” With that, Heinz delivered a punch of his own, his hand connecting with the man’s right cheekbone.

  His moment of satisfaction was all too brief, pain exploding over his shoulder, as something heavy came down on his right side. Then a boot kicked him in the ribs, as he lay on the floor. Darkness, mercifully descended, just as another kick was delivered. He dimly heard Trudi screaming to leave him alone, he was just a child and didn’t deserve to be treated that way and then he heard and felt nothing.

  4

  “Water, please water.” His mouth was dry, his throat all scratchy. When he raised his head, his body exploded in pain. He groaned and couldn’t bear to move but his need for water superseded everything else.

  “Heinz, try not to move. You’ve been hurt.”

  He knew that. But he didn’t know where he was, only the smell and sense of overcrowding meant it wasn’t home or even a hospital. The floor under his bum was hard and freezing. He didn’t care, the need for liquid was all-consuming.

  Wait, he recognized the voice. “Papa.” He’d help him. “Water, water,” he repeated, hoping his father would help him out of his misery. His wish was granted, as a few trickles of liquid spilled into his mouth, most of it escaping, as it dribbled down his chin. He opened his eyes, quickly closing them again, as the light hurt.

  “Heinz, wake up son. You need to sit up. If you are still lying down when they come back, they’ll take you to the hospital. We can’t be separated.”

  Where were they? He tried to do as Papa said, his father’s arms around him but it was too sore. He couldn’t move his leg.

  “Heinz, try harder. I know it’s painful but you have to try. I can’t send my son to his death.”

  Why would going to the hospital make him die? Why wasn’t he at home? None of this made sense. He struggled to sit up, his father and someone else helping him. Then he passed out again.

  He heard the noise of boots. Someone
was coming. Were they going to help him? Tension rose around him, as the men in the room seemed to hold their breath. The boots were making them anxious. Heinz was too tired to make sense of anything. He tried to stay asleep, keep his eyes closed but someone else had a different idea. They dragged him to his feet and held him tight, by their side.

  “Stand up as straight as you can, Son. Don’t let them win. I need you with me,” Papa whispered. “Help me with my son. Please.”

  His father kept whispering but Heinz couldn’t hear every word. The pain was too strong to focus on anything else. He tried taking a deep breath but that only made it worse. His side ached. Gingerly he tried to move his hand over it but his father pushed it aside.

  “Don’t draw attention to your injuries. Just stand straight. It won’t take long and then you can lie down again. I’ll get you more water.”

  The promise of water did it. He could barely tolerate the pain but his thirst was worse. He stayed standing, rocking slightly in his shoes but he couldn’t fall down, as there were too many bodies packed around him. He heard someone behind him whispering a prayer. You could almost taste the fear in the room. He opened his eyes, as the door screeched open, the sound of metal grating against metal sending shivers through him. His gaze traveled up from the boots, recognizing the SA uniforms and the hate in the men’s eyes. The same type of men who’d come to his home and hit Mrs. Bernstein. What had happened to her and the children? Tomas? Was he in this room? He wanted to call out but sensed he shouldn’t.

  5

  An officer read out their names. Everyone had to answer. Those that didn’t were pulled or carried from the crowd to the top of the room beside the uniformed men. Heinz missed his name but a poke from his Papa made him answer.

  Those who hadn’t answered were carted from the cell before the doors clanged shut loudly, behind the uniforms.

  Papa and his friends helped him to lay back on the floor, his head on Papa’s lap. Papa kept his promise and gave him a small drink. Heinz found his voice.

  “Where are they taking those men? To the hospital?”

  “To the morgue,” came the reply but Heinz didn’t see who’d answered. He gazed into his father’s eyes and read the answer right there. No wonder his papa had pushed him to stand. He tried to smile, to remove the worry from his father’s eyes but the effort proved too much. He felt himself falling into the welcoming darkness.

  The next few days continued in much the same way. The men clamored for food and water. They were given something resembling watery soup and black, hard bread. There was never enough for everyone and riots broke out when the food arrived. Papa stayed with Heinz but he still got his portion of food. The other inmates, possibly realizing the benefit of having a doctor in their midst, made sure of it.

  They’d been incarcerated for about a week when the rumors started; they were going to be moved to somewhere called Dachau. Heinz had never heard of it before but judging by the reaction of the men it wasn’t a holiday camp.

  “Why don’t they just let us go home? We haven’t done anything wrong.”

  Over and over the men repeated the same questions but to no avail. A couple of men were released, those who could prove they had fought in the First World War and had been decorated for bravery. Papa could have gone but he refused to leave Heinz behind and, Heinz certainly wasn’t up for release.

  “Is it true? Did you hit one of those Nazis?” men whispered, as they passed over food to his Papa. Heinz didn’t want to talk about it. It had been stupid, although if it happened again, he didn’t think he would be able to stand back while someone beat up a woman. But now, he was stuck in here and what was worse, so was his Papa. Papa could be at home now if it weren’t for him and his temper. Rachel Bernstein had been right; his temper had gotten him into trouble.

  6

  The next morning the routine changed. The door screeched open, the metal noise vibrating through the crowd who shrank back as if by putting distance between them and the uniforms, they would be safer. Instead of taking people out, the Nazis pushed a crowd of men into the room, more and more until there was no room for anyone to lie down, only to stand. The door clanged shut behind them. Only then did the questions start.

  “Where had the new arrivals been? What was happening on the outside? Was anyone going to rescue them? Where were they going?”

  On and on with the questions but Heinz didn’t pay any attention to the answers. His whole being was consumed with trying to deal with the pain. His father had fashioned a splint from a belt and some pieces of wood from an old box. He said his leg would heal quickly. Papa hadn’t met his eyes when he spoke but Heinz didn’t question him. He didn’t care about anything other than the pain and was grateful to pass out once more.

  Sometime later, after the new people arrived, he woke up to see Mr. Bernstein and his sons.

  “I thought they were bringing us to a camp not another detention center.” Mr. Bernstein looked around. “My boy, I heard what you did for my wife. Thank you. Was she alright when you saw her last? What of my girls?”

  “Rachel, Ruth. Fine,” Heinz gasped, as he tried to form a sentence. “Mrs. Bernstein, very brave. Think okay.”

  He didn’t know what had happened once he passed out but he hoped he’d told the truth. He could still see the man hitting Mrs. Bernstein, his whole face twisted up with hate.

  “Have you heard anything about the women? Have they been taken?” Papa whispered to Mr. Bernstein.

  “No, I don’t think so. Nobody saw women being taken away. But other things happened. Things I don’t want to discuss.”

  Heinz had no idea what the man was talking about but Papa paled even more if that was even possible. He reached up to hold his papa’s hand.

  “They are together. Mrs. Bernstein will look after Tomas and the baby.”

  “And Trudi. My darling, brave, fearless Trudi. Who will look after her?”

  Heinz dropped his papa’s hand. Always Trudi.

  “We should have listened to your wife, Mr. Beck. She was right. We should have done everything to get out. Now my boys and I… what will happen to us?”

  Heinz wanted to shout at the man to pull himself together. He was fit and healthy, wasn’t he? He looked at the Bernstein boys and saw his anger reflected in their faces. Izsak, the eldest, spoke firmly. “Papa have faith. We will get our chance to fight back. They will not defeat us.”

  “My son, the fighter,” Mr. Bernstein spat out.

  “If you had listened to me, we would be in Palestine now, not locked up like animals. You couldn’t be wrong, could you? Even Mama wanted to leave but you… you knew better. You knew all the answers. But you were wrong. So wrong.”

  “Izsak, that’s enough,” Gavriel admonished. Heinz knew him to be Rachel’s favorite brother, he was about nineteen-years-old. “Papa did what he thought best. We can’t turn on each other now. We have to stick together to get through this and back to Mama and the girls.”

  Izsak shrugged his shoulders but stayed silent. Gavriel patted him on the back.

  “Papa, enough defeatist talk. We won’t last long if we believe we are beaten. Together we will survive, at least some of us. We have to live to tell our tale. Make people listen.”

  “Well-spoken Gavriel,” Papa said. “You will make a fine leader one day. Tell us what you have heard.”

  “They intend to take us to Dachau and keep us there. Some of the elders believe they will hold us for ransom. Others believe we will be freed after a certain time period. There is no way of knowing who is correct.”

  Papa concurred. “True.”

  “Mama and your wife will work to help us on the outside. Mama knows some of my Gentile friends.” Gavriel lowered his voice. “We must do everything we can to survive, by sticking together. We know how the SA minds work. They prey on the weakest link. The old, the sick and the in—”

  Papa cut him off. “We must agree to share resources. Food and water. To help each other get through this. Agreed?”<
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  Gavriel and Izsak nodded but Heinz saw Mr. Bernstein eye him doubtfully. He tried to stand but gave up, as the exertion brought him out in a cold sweat. “I can handle myself.” But the words came out in a whisper rather than a roar.

  Papa put his arm around his shoulders and Gavriel moved closer. It was Gavriel who spoke. “We are in this together. We, the whole Bernstein family, owe you a debt for protecting mama.”

  Heinz smiled but even that took more effort than he had. He hoped it would be a few days before the Nazis took them to this new place. He couldn’t march anywhere just yet.

  As Heinz recovered, he grew more interested in the men around him. The only thing they seemed to have in common was their Jewishness. Some men wore tailored suits and jackets, with leather shoes, whilst others wore torn trousers and what looked like slippers. Some men had no shoes and looked like they had been dragged from their beds.

  The stench became unbearable, as the slops bucket overflowed. Some men gave up moving to the corners and peed where they stood. Heinz could see some men try to keep themselves clean, using a portion of their drinking water to clean their faces and hands. Others stared into the distance, unseeing, as the shock of the change in their circumstances grew too much for them.

  Gavriel, Papa, and Izsak moved around the men, imploring them to keep to the rules. To use the corners to relieve themselves while trying to keep the center of the room clear of debris.

  “We can’t give up hope. Our salvation will come. We must be ready when it does,” Gavriel said, over and over. Some men listened but others turned their faces away. Some grew belligerent, telling Gavriel he should be taken away by men in white coats.

  Papa and the Bernstein boys kept talking and issuing instructions. It was possible for some to sleep if the other men moved closer together. By rotating spaces, everyone could get a few hours rest.