Sarah and Solomon

by Roberta Kagan

  “You look like you have seen a ghost,” Dyta said. “If you’re worried about him ever turning us in, don’t worry. He won’t. After all, the man was a Jew and the child a half Jew. His wife was a cheating good-for-nothing sow who was soiled from laying with a Jew. She brought shame upon his good name. We are not filth like that. We are not vermin. He would never turn on us.”

  Ewa nodded and mustered a quick smile. Dyta patted her on the back. Ewa tried to pretend that she was all right, but her hand was unsteady as she chopped the carrots. Now she knew why Tytus was so generous with his wife’s belongings. Now she had the answers to all of her questions. Everything made sense, but the answers had unnerved her.

  Chapter 66

  Every other week, Tytus made a trip into town for supplies. He was getting ready to leave for his weekly trip when Ewa overheard Tytus and Dyta talking in the bedroom while she was preparing breakfast.

  “I wish I could take you with me,” he said. “I know how much you would enjoy it.”

  “I am afraid. It’s safe here on the farm, and I’ve been through so much,” Dyta answered. “I don’t want to risk anyone asking questions.”

  “I know, but wouldn’t it be nice if we could go into town and have a quick meal or a cup of coffee at a restaurant? I would so love to show you off.”

  “I would love to go. But it’s unsafe. I am happy to be here where I can breathe.”

  “I agree. But some day . . .”

  “Yes, we can only hope.”

  When Tytus returned from his trip to town that night he was exuberant. He came into the house and called out, “Dyta, Sylwia, come in here.” Once they were both in the living room he said, “I have good news. It looks like the end of the war is very close, and soon the Nazis will be nothing but an ugly memory.”

  Ewa watched him as he walked over to Dyta and kissed her. He was a strange man. In some ways a good man and in many, a bad one.

  “I don’t know if Dyta told you, but my wife recently passed away. She caught her sister’s illness. So as soon as the war is over, Dyta and I plan to marry.”

  “No, she never mentioned your wife to me,” Ewa lied.

  “Yes, it happened a few months ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Tytus nodded. “Thank you. But my wife and I had our differences. Anyway, you will attend our wedding?”

  “Of c-course,” Ewa said.

  Chapter 67

  April through May 1945

  Adolf Hitler found that he’d backed himself into a corner. His lust for power had cost him dearly, and now he knew for certain that Germany would lose the war. Distraught and addicted to narcotics, he decided to go down into his underground bunker and contemplate his options. He took his sweetheart, Eva Braun; Joseph Goebbels, his minister of propaganda; Joseph’s wife, Magda, and their six young children along with him.

  Then on April 30, 1945, just ten days after his fifty-sixth birthday, Adolf Hitler and Eva Braun Hitler, his newly married wife of one day, committed suicide.

  First the Goebbels murdered their six children, and then Magda and Joseph killed themselves.

  After Adolf and Eva Hitler were dead, Feldwebel Fritz Tornow who was Hitler’s dog handler, gathered all the dogs that had belonged to Hitler into the yard. Then he systematically shot them.

  On the seventh day of May 1945, Germany officially surrendered.

  Chapter 68

  When the news that Germany was losing the war reached Hedy and Ludwig, they left Poland and returned home to Berlin. Even though it seemed inevitable that Hitler’s reign was coming to a close, Hedy and Ludwig still held out hope that somehow Hitler would turn things around. However, after the führer's suicide became public knowledge they knew that the Third Reich would never see the thousand-year-reign that Hitler had promised. They were lost, frightened. Although neither of them voiced their concerns, they were both quite certain that the Allies would not treat the Germans kindly. Especially the Russians. They found themselves arguing more often but at the same time clinging to each other, terrified as the Russian army marched into Berlin.

  It was not long before the streets were filled with Russian uniforms. Hedy and Gunther tried to pretend they were just regular German citizens who had not been involved with the Nazi Party. However, the Russian army was cruel. They did not take kindly to any Germans, Nazis or not. Russia had just been through a long, hard battle against Germany, and many of the Russian soldiers who were now stationed in Berlin had lost family and friends in the war. So they hated the Germans, and they took their anger out on the German people every chance they got.

  When Hedy first returned to Berlin she went to see her mother who told her that her beloved father had been killed in a bombing. Without him she was lost. All of her confidence was gone. She and Ludwig moved into the apartment with her mother, and she hung on to Ludwig tightly. He and her mother were all she had left of her life before Germany lost the war. The apartment where they lived was missing walls leaving the front of the building open and exposed to the outside. There was no privacy at all.

  Hedy and Ludwig, along with the rest of the Germans in Berlin, found themselves at the mercy of the Russian soldiers who had control of all the food and housing. Not only that, but the bombings had left Berlin in shambles with rubble and broken buildings as far as the eye could see. The Germans were responsible for cleaning up the city. If they wanted to eat, Hedy, Ludwig, and Hedy’s mother, even though she was old and sick, were expected to get out and work.

  Hedy went into town one afternoon in order to get her hands on any extra food that was available and to offer her help in the cleanup efforts.

  It was painful for Hedy to see what had become of the places she’d known as a child. Most of them lay in ruins. She felt overcome with sadness. Everything has gone wrong. Hitler failed us. How could this have happened? He’d offered Germany such promise. We were respected and feared instead of treated like the losers of the First World War. We had pride in our country and in ourselves. And now . . .

  Her stomach rumbled. She put her hand on her belly to quiet it. We are given so little to eat, she thought as she looked around shaking her head. The streets of her beloved city were filled not only with soldiers but with ragged refugees of all kinds, German soldiers returning in defeat, orphaned children who had lost their families in the bombings. There were women in tight dresses willing to trade their self-respect for a piece of bread. And she was appalled to see that some of the refugees wandering the streets were displaced Jews who wore Stars of David on their filthy uniforms. Their bones jutted out of their faces sharp as razor blades. Their eyes were deep, dark canyons that she dared not stare into, lest she fall in headfirst and never find her way back to sanity.

  Walking a little farther, she noticed the body of a Jew with a bald head, wearing a gray-striped uniform with a Star of David, laying dead on the side of the street. The eyes were wide open, and the mouth of the corpse formed a silent scream as if it had died crying out in horror. I can’t tell if that is a man or a woman, but whatever it was, I am fairly certain that it’s dead. It looks so frightening. The Jews are such terrifying people; they look like monsters: demons, walking corpses. And I can just imagine the disease these filthy vermin are spreading throughout the city.

  That afternoon, Hedy worked for over six hours cleaning rubble to receive half a loaf of bread.

  One afternoon, Mrs. Klingerman and Hedy’s mother were sitting at the kitchen table in Hedy’s mother’s apartment. Hedy came into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of tea. “Hello, Mrs. Klingerman,” she said.

  “Hello, Hedy. Have you found work yet?”

  “No, but I am still looking. If you hear of anything, please let me know.”

  “Of course I will,” Mrs. Klingerman said as she sipped her tea. Then she added, “Listen to me, Hedy; this is important. I don’t know how to say this gently, so I will just tell you what I have to say. My niece Ingrid was raped by the Russians. She is so distraught that she tried
to kill herself. Her mother says she sits in a chair all day now and doesn’t talk. She hardly eats. It’s a dangerous world out there. I know it’s none of my business, but you’d better be careful, Hedy. You wander the streets too much. Instead of going out there, you should send Ludwig out to look for food.”

  A week later, when they had gone through all of their weekly rations, Hedy decided to take her neighbor's advice, so she sent Ludwig out to see if he could find a way to get his hands on some extra food. He was gone for over an hour, but Ludwig returned empty handed. He always seemed to return empty handed. Now whenever she looked at him, she was disgusted. Her father had been right about him. Ludwig was a failure. He’d failed her in so many ways. She had lost all faith in him. But even though she had begun to hate him, she could not let him go. He was all she had left. She looked at him with revulsion in her eyes because it was clear to her she that she could not depend on him. If they were to survive, she must depend on herself. So even though she had been hearing more and more rumors about how unsafe it was becoming for a woman to go out on the streets alone, she went anyway.

  It was late spring but still chilly. Hedy pulled her scarf tighter around her neck. Women gathered together in groups cleaning up the rubble. Her heart sank as she watched them. The glory of the Reich was over. She was hungry, so hungry. And her hunger made her bold. When she saw two Russian soldiers standing in front of a tavern, she approached them. She’d heard of German women taking Russian soldiers as lovers in exchange for the comforts that they might provide. The idea was appalling to her, but . . . she was so hungry.

  “Hello,” Hedy said, smiling at one of the Russians, but her lip was quivering with fear.

  “What have we here? It looks like a little German Fräulein to me,” the other soldier said, licking his lips.

  “How are you today, Nazi girl?”

  She felt a lightning bolt of fear shoot through her. Every instinct in her body told her that this was not going to end well. The skin on her neck tingled and the hair stood on end. Her legs trembled. She felt her stomach turn.

  “I’m not a Nazi. I was just a secretary, not political at all during the war,” Hedy said, but her voice was shaking, and every instinct told her that she should run. She must get away as fast as she could. A tremor of terror rushed through her, and then without another word Hedy began to run. She ran as fast as she could, but she was not fast enough. The soldiers were upon her within minutes. She screamed, but no one came to her rescue. One of them held her while the other one ripped her dress off and then her undergarments. The two of them took turns with her. When it was over, she lay strangled to death on the street in a pool of her own blood.

  Several hours passed, and it began to grow dark outside before Ludwig began to wonder what had happened to Hedy. He hated leaving the apartment. Not that it was a nice place, but the world outside was much more frightening. He considered waiting a little longer, but in a few hours, it would be night. Forcing himself to get up from the sofa, he stuffed his gun into his back pocket and put on his coat. Then he went outside.

  It didn’t take long before Ludwig was approached by an old woman. It was Mrs. Klingerman. He’d met her before. He knew she lived in the apartment directly upstairs from them. She ran up and grabbed his sleeve. Her body was shaking as she held on to his coat. Then she told him what had happened to Hedy.

  “Are you sure? Did you see it happen?” Ludwig asked. He didn’t want to believe it.

  “I did. I saw it all. But I couldn’t do anything. I was afraid. I am an old woman. What can an old woman do?”

  “W-where is she?” Ludwig stuttered.

  “She’s still in the street. Right down there.” Mrs. Klingerman pointed. “And she’s naked. It’s shameful, Ludwig,” she said.

  Ludwig didn’t stop to answer the old woman. Instead, he ran toward the scene. There she was, just as Mrs. Klingerman had described. Her lifeless body lay shameful and naked. He suddenly felt overcome by fear. Would he be punished for all the terrible things he'd done and witnessed during the war? He bent down to touch her face. Hedy wasn’t the best girlfriend. I can’t say we had a wonderful relationship or even that I truly loved her. But she was a good German girl, and she did deserve better than to be lying naked in a pool of blood like a filthy Jew. With trembling hands, he took off his coat and lay it over her to cover her nakedness. He felt like he might vomit. So he got up and looked away. There was nothing more he could do. Was there? Ludwig began to walk back toward his apartment with his head bowed, just as a group of Russian soldiers approached him.

  “What is that bulge in your pocket?” one of them asked.

  Ludwig shook his head.

  “It looks like the Kraut has a gun. Do you have a gun, Nazi?”

  Ludwig tried to back away, but two of the Russians caught him by the arms. One of them took the gun out of his back pocket and hit Ludwig on the head with it. He fell to the ground. The others kicked him in the belly and chest until blood ran from his lips. How did things ever get this bad for Germans? All we were trying to do was make this world a better place . . . Ludwig thought right before he took his last breath.

  Chapter 69

  Poland, Summer 1947

  It took two years for Tytus and Dyta to say their marriage vows in a small civil ceremony in town. Lack of funds to get to France, coupled with the chaos in the cities, kept Ewa from leaving the farm. Since she’d learned the truth about Tytus hating Jews, she was cautious of him. Yet she had to admit he had always treated her with kindness and generosity. A kindness she knew he would have forsaken had he learned she was a Jew.

  She yearned to go to France and collect the children, but It was easy to stay on the farm. She had a roof over her head and did not suffer the bitter cold of being outside during the winter. There was plenty to eat, so she no longer knew the misery of hunger. And Tytus made it clear that she was welcome to stay as long as she liked. However, Sarah and Solomon haunted her dreams. And Ewa knew she needed to find work in order to save enough money to find a place and bring them back from France to live with her.

  But there was another reason she hadn’t gone back to the orphanage yet. A secret reason that she hid even from herself. Ewa was afraid of what she might find in France. After all, anything could have happened to the children. They might be there waiting, and then again . . . they might not. She couldn’t bear to think of the possibilities.

  But the children were always on her mind. And she knew she must face the inevitable whatever it might be. So she told Tytus and Dyta that she needed to go to France and see if she could find the children.

  “You can bring them back here with you and stay here if you’d like. I know you and Dyta are best friends, and she would love to have you stay, wouldn’t you, Dyta?” Tytus offered.

  “Of course I would.”

  “I might have to do that. I am not sure what I am going to do once I find the children, but it is a very kind offer.”

  “Well, like I said, you are welcome here. Didn’t you say you had a boy? How old is he now?”

  “I think he should be about fifteen, and the girl would be around ten.”

  “A fifteen-year-old boy would be a big help to me on the farm.”

  “Yes, and he is good boy. A smart boy. I am not sure what I am going find when I get to France. And we just might come back here. I can’t say for certain. The truth is, I am hoping I find them alive. The war did a lot of things to a lot of people. Anything could have happened to them.”

  “Would you like me to go with you, Sylwia? I will. I want to be there in case you need me. You know what I mean . . .” Dyta said.

  “Don’t even say it, dear.” Tytus took Dyta’s hand. “Of course, Sylwia’s children are fine. But if you want us to go with you, I will put my work aside and go with you too,” Tytus said.

  “No, no need. You are both so wonderful, so kind, such good friends. I will never forget you, no matter what happens. But I must go alone.”

  “Do you have
any money or valuables to sell?” Tytus asked.

  “Nothing,” Ewa said. “I’m thinking about going into the city and trying to get work so I can afford train fare to France.”

  Tytus looked at his wife. “Dyta, may I speak to you for a few minutes?”

  She nodded, and the two of them left the room. They went into their bedroom leaving Ewa at the kitchen table with a cup of weak tea. When they returned Dyta was smiling. “It’s not much,” she said, handing Ewa a small pile of bills, “but it’s all we can spare. Tytus and I decided to give you this to help you get to France to find your children.”

  Tears burned the backs of Ewa’s eyes. She was so touched by this kind gesture that she could not speak. And besides that, she felt guilty for having lied to her friends. How can I love them and hate what they stand for at the same time? she thought. They are such good people, yet they hate the Jewish people. I know it’s only because they were raised that way, and they don’t know any Jews. They grew up to believe that Jews were evil. Yet not knowing I was Jewish, they became like family to me. What do I say? What do I do? Do I continue this lie, or tell them the truth?

  “Slywia, are you all right?” Dyta asked.

  “I’m just so touched by this,” Ewa said as tears ran down her cheeks. She felt her mouth open to tell them the truth. She felt the words form in the back of her throat, words with the power to change everything. Words that might cause the love her friends felt for her to disintegrate: I am a Jew. But she did not utter a sound. She swallowed her secret. Instead, she took Dyta in her arms and held her tightly. Then she looked into Tytus’s eyes and then back at Dyta and whispered, “Thank you, my dear friends. Thank you.”