Daughters of the Resistance

by Lana Kortchik

  ‘I understand. And I don’t expect you to. Even I know I’m beyond saving.’

  Azamat walked out with his head hung low. He shuffled past Lisa without seeing her. She stood at the entrance, watching Maxim as he lay there with his eyes closed. She thought he had fallen asleep and was about to turn around and walk away when he opened his eyes and saw her. ‘Hey there,’ he said.

  ‘I heard your conversation with Azamat.’

  ‘Are you disappointed in me? Because of me, your best friend is dead. Other people too.’

  ‘I’m not disappointed in you.’ She wanted to tell him she was disappointed in the war that had an ability to break anyone, even the best of people.

  ‘You should be. I’m disappointed in myself.’

  He closed his eyes and suddenly looked so tired, she knew he wanted to be alone. ‘I just wanted you to know I understand,’ she said before she walked out of the prison hut.

  Outside, shivering in the rain, she thought of the man lying on the dirty straw, with his skin grey and eyes dull, and her heart ached. Yes, because of his mistake, many people had died. But had she been faced with the same impossible choice, could she honestly say that she would have acted differently? Maxim was the strongest man she knew, the most dependable and loyal. If he could be broken, what hope did the rest of them have? How many others would have crumbled sooner?

  With tears in her eyes, she thought of Sonya, giggling and calling for her daddy, running to him as fast as she could, wrapping her chubby arms around his legs. She thought of Irina’s adoring eyes on her husband as he played his guitar and smiled affectionately at his wife. His family needed him. Only a few short months ago Lisa would have given anything to take Maxim away from his wife. But having seen the three of them with one another, having witnessed the love they shared and the heartbreak they were facing, she knew she would do anything in her power to keep them together.

  November 1943

  Chapter 23

  Irina lived the next few days as if in a daze. If anyone had asked her what she’d done, she wouldn’t be able to say. And yet, outwardly, her life continued as before. She got up in the morning and rocked her daughter. She bathed Sonya in the little baby bath Maxim had found for her in a village somewhere and cooked their meagre breakfast. Outwardly, she was functioning, but inside she was dying. Although she looked after her daughter, she didn’t look after herself. She didn’t wash or brush her hair or eat. She barely slept. Every afternoon she walked unsteadily to the prison hut where Maxim lay on his straw bed with his hands and feet bound, awaiting his fate.

  And then the unthinkable happened. At an assembly one morning Danilo announced Maxim was condemned to die. Irina never attended the assembly but she was walking past with a bucket of water and when she heard it, she stumbled and fell, the water spilling on the ground. She pressed her head to the damp soil and wailed like a wounded animal, like a fox caught in a trap. But no one paid her any attention. Her voice was lost in a chorus of other voices.

  ‘He’s innocent,’ someone cried. ‘You are sending an innocent man to his death.’

  ‘Maxim is the best partisan this country’s ever known. Go on, shoot him. What a nice present for the Nazis,’ said someone else.

  ‘Are you out of your mind? Are you going to allow this, Azamat?’

  These people Irina didn’t even know were standing up for her husband. No one believed Maxim was guilty. But Irina barely heard them. Leaving the bucket on the ground, she stumbled through the meadow, not looking where she was going. She could no longer cook or bathe or feed. She could no longer look after her daughter. Thank God for Ramona, who helped her, because all Irina could do was lie in bed and stare in front of her with unseeing eyes.

  And that was where Lisa found her later that afternoon. ‘No more moping around. You need to come with me,’ she said, taking her hand as if they were friends.

  Irina didn’t move from her bed. Even opening her eyes required a tremendous effort. ‘Come with you where?’

  ‘To see Azamat. He’s the only one who can help us.’

  ‘Us?’

  ‘I don’t know about you but I’m not sitting here and doing nothing. Maxim has made a mistake. I know him well and he’s better than this. He saved my life twice. Once, when I was on the train headed to Germany. And again, when our settlement was attacked. I owe him.’

  Lisa helped Irina get dressed and together they walked outside. The pale October sun blinded Irina and she leant on Lisa’s shoulder. She felt like she herself was condemned to die, like she was seeing the world for the last time. Was it her imagination or were the partisans watching her with pity? Azamat was not at the headquarters but Danilo was. Irina backed away at the sight of him. There was no point talking to Danilo about mercy. He was not a merciful man. But Lisa was having none of it. She pulled Irina inside and the two of them stood in front of Danilo, mute and accusing.

  ‘If you are here to plead for him, save your breath. He’s been tried and condemned to death.’

  ‘Tried by what authority?’ demanded Lisa.

  ‘By the council of war.’

  ‘In other words, by you and a few of your cronies. What about a court hearing? What about justice?’

  Irina could feel Lisa’s hand tremble in hers. From fear or from anger, she wasn’t sure. But Danilo didn’t seem to care. He carried his own anger like a weapon in his hand. ‘And those who died because of him? What about justice for them?’

  ‘So that’s how it is? An eye for an eye?’ asked Irina, turning away so she couldn’t see the bloodthirsty expression on Danilo’s face.

  ‘Is there any other way?’

  ‘We are not barbarians. We are not Nazis.’

  ‘Tell that to those who died at the hands of your husband.’

  ‘We have a small child. Have mercy on her, if not on him. She’s innocent in all this and she needs her father.’ She shivered, adding in a small voice, ‘Please.’

  ‘Your husband should have thought about his daughter when he gave up our location to the enemy. The people who died, they had families too. Children, parents, husbands and wives.’ Danilo’s face clouded over. Irina knew he was thinking of Yulya, burnt to death because of Maxim.

  ‘Don’t you think there have been enough deaths?’ exclaimed Lisa.

  ‘Not nearly enough, when it comes to traitors.’

  ‘Maxim is no traitor. He made a mistake.’

  ‘He condemned all of us when he disclosed our hiding place. He’s responsible for the deaths of almost half of our people.’

  ‘The Nazis are responsible for their deaths. Not him. They tortured him until he couldn’t take it anymore.’

  ‘He was weak and selfish.’

  ‘Don’t talk about him in the past tense, as if he’s already dead,’ cried Irina. To her horror, she started to cry. She didn’t want Danilo to see her tears. She wanted him to think she was strong, like Lisa. She wanted him to know she would stop at nothing to save her husband.

  ‘He might as well be dead. And in a few days, he will be.’

  ‘This is a partisan battalion. Not a racecourse for your personal ambition. Let’s go, Irina. We’ll come back when Azamat is here.’

  ‘Don’t waste your time, girls. Azamat agrees with me. The decision has been made.’

  At the door, Lisa turned to Danilo and said, ‘If you were in Maxim’s position, can you honestly say you wouldn’t have done the same? If they had a gun to your loved ones’ heads, what would you do? And what wouldn’t you do?’

  Before Danilo had a chance to reply, the two women were gone.

  *

  Irina was nestled into Maxim’s shoulder, trembling from head to toe. He held her gently, as if afraid these were their last moments together. When she was without him, her insides froze with unspeakable horror and she moved through her day as if in a stupor. And only when she was with him did she feel alive. He had an incredible ability to make her heart lighter just by being close, the way he did when she was in Kiev
, dreading every Nazi patrol, afraid for her daughter’s life, doing her best to avoid her mother-in-law with her sharp tongue. When he whispered how much he loved her, there was an intensity to his voice that broke her heart. She wanted to absorb him through her skin, to keep him with her forever. To keep him safe. There was a raging panic inside her, a suffocating anger – at him, at herself and at the people who were trying to hurt them. And there was pity too, for him and those who had died because of him.

  ‘We are not giving up,’ she said. ‘We’ll talk to Azamat. He can stop them from doing this.’

  His finger was circling the palm of her hand. Slow reassuring movements that were meant to soothe her but didn’t. ‘Who is we?’

  ‘Lisa is helping me. She’s been really supportive. It seems she’s the only one who understands what I’m going through. The only one who cares.’

  ‘There is no use. They will never let me go.’

  ‘You made a mistake. You don’t deserve to die for that mistake.’

  ‘An unforgivable mistake that cost many lives. Of course I deserve to die. Whatever happens, I’m ready for it. I am not afraid.’

  ‘But I am afraid because I can’t lose you.’ They were both silent for a long time. Nothing could be heard but the din of heavy rain outside. Irina tried not to think about what was coming but couldn’t help it. She couldn’t imagine it. Here he was, by her side, kissing the palm of her hand. And yet, he was slipping away from her and there was nothing she could do about it. ‘Can’t you see?’ she whispered. ‘I can’t live without you.’

  ‘You are going to have to learn,’ he said grimly, his arms tightening around her.

  ‘Never,’ she whispered. ‘Never. I can accept anything – prison, labour camp, exile, as long as you live. As long as I know that you are out there somewhere, that one day you will come back to me.’

  ‘Labour camp? I would rather die.’

  ‘Sonya and I will follow you. We will wait for you.’

  ‘You want to take our two-year-old daughter and follow me to a Gulag in Siberia or Kolyma, to inhumane conditions, to wait for what?’

  ‘To see you again. For the end of your sentence.’ The thought made her sit up in excitement. It was a glimmer of hope in their hopeless universe.

  ‘You will be waiting for twenty years. And when I’m released, I won’t be the same man anymore. I will be broken, no good for you. Besides, what makes you think I would even survive the labour camp? Not many people do. You’d just be replacing a quick and merciful death with a slow and painful one. Believe me, I prefer it this way.’

  ‘How can you say that?’

  ‘You haven’t thought this through. If I live, you will be the wife of a traitor. Do you know what that means? When you least expect it, they will come for you. They will knock on your door and take you away to one of those labour camps you talk so longingly about.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, as long as one day we can be together.’

  ‘They will take Sonya away from you. Our daughter will grow up without knowing her parents. This way is better. Partisan justice is swift and, with luck, once it’s done, the authorities will not hear about it. When I’m gone, you and Sonya will be safe.’

  ‘Is that why you wanted us close to you? Because you knew this was coming? Is that why you finally let us join you here at the battalion?’

  ‘I wanted you close so I could spend what little time I had left with you. I wanted you close so I could protect you.’

  ‘So there is no way out for us? Either way, we are doomed.’

  ‘I am doomed. But not you. I die so that the two of you can live.’

  She held his strong body in her arms and cried. Inconsolably she cried for all their happy moments together. The day he had introduced her to his parents and Kirill said she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. When Zina had glared at him, he added, ‘Besides my wife, of course.’ And Maxim beamed, looking at Irina like she was everything he had ever wanted. The day they had brought their daughter home. They locked themselves in their room, and no matter how many times Zina knocked on the door, they pretended they didn’t hear, so it could be just the three of them for those precious first few days as a new family.

  The morning after their wedding, when they packed a little suitcase and told Maxim’s parents they were going to their dacha, so they could be alone together. ‘When will you be back?’ Zina had demanded, her mop of grey hair bouncing with indignation.

  ‘In a few days,’ replied Maxim. They had stayed there for three weeks. They were the happiest three weeks of Irina’s life.

  She cried for the happy moments because they would never come again. Had she known she was living through the best time of her life, she would have savoured every second a little bit more. She would have laughed louder, held him tighter, kissed him harder, made love to him longer. But she hadn’t known. She had thought they would have a lifetime of happy moments together, that they would grow old together and die surrounded by children and grandchildren. And now this life was being snatched away from them and Irina couldn’t bear it.

  With a creak and a sigh, the candle burnt to nothing. All hope was gone and soon only the darkness remained. Still they clung to each other under the cannonade of distant battles like their lives depended on it.

  Chapter 24

  Lisa saw Maxim everywhere. Not yet dead, he was haunting her like a ghost. Here he was, leaning over her, teaching her how to take aim and press the trigger. And here he was again, by the trees, chopping wood, his body glistening in the frosty air as her adoring eyes worshipped him. And here the two of them were, her hurting body in his arms as he carried her to safety at risk to his life.

  All around her, life continued as before. The partisans woke up, went about their daily tasks, departed on their missions, returned, sang and played their guitars. They gathered in circles – without him – and spoke about things other than him, as if he was already gone. How could that be? How could the world go on as if nothing had happened when Maxim was shackled a hundred metres away, awaiting death?

  As she made her slow way towards her hut with two boiled potatoes on a plate, rain running down her face like tears, she saw Danilo sitting on the grass with his back to a tree, staring into space. He looked thinner, less imposing. Was he always this grey and Lisa had never noticed? She was about to walk past when, to her surprise, he waved and motioned for her to join him. ‘Why don’t you sit with me? Just for a moment?’

  She sat next him, not saying a word. And for a while, neither did he. Finally, rubbing his eyes as if he was waking up from a dream, he said, ‘Do you believe in God? Do you ever go to church?’

  Astonished, Lisa watched Danilo. Until this day, he had never said a word to her unless she spoke to him first. And now he was asking her if she believed in God. ‘I grew up in the Soviet Union. Of course I don’t go to church.’ She didn’t answer his first question. She didn’t know what she believed in anymore.

  ‘That’s true, there’s no place for religion in the Soviet Union. And yet, God is everywhere. Take this sunset, for example. Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘There is so much beauty around us, even at a time like this. Especially at a time like this. So close to our own deaths, that’s when we appreciate life, don’t you think?’

  Lisa didn’t reply, her eyes on the sunset. She thought about Maxim, close to death at the hands of the man sitting next to her.

  Danilo’s fingers fiddled with his cigarette but he didn’t light it. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible. ‘I know Yulya could be grumpy at times, but she was the kindest woman I’ve ever met. She loved kids so much. We had three of our own and five foster children. For her sixtieth birthday, just before the war, they all came to our house to celebrate, with spouses and children of their own. It was pandemonium but I’ve never seen her so happy.’ Danilo’s head dropped to his chest. ‘She believed in forgiveness. She wouldn’t have
wanted this. And I can’t do it. I can’t go through with it.’

  Lisa’s heart thudded with hope. Was it possible? Was he talking about Maxim?

  ‘I was so angry at him at first. We all were,’ he added. ‘But as time passed, so did my anger. Nothing can bring Yulya back. And I can’t destroy one of God’s creations in cold blood. It’s not my place to do so. There will come a day when everyone will face the higher judgement. Not the judgement of our peers but that of God. And when I stand before Him, I don’t want a comrade’s death on my conscience, no matter what he did. Who am I to decide if he lives or dies? He, too, will one day face the judgement. Let it be on his conscience.’

  ‘Do you mean it? You will let him go?’ Lisa was crying with relief. She didn’t want Danilo to see it but, fortunately, he wasn’t looking at her.

  ‘I wish I could. The others have lost too many loved ones and are demanding justice.’

  Lisa’s heart fell. ‘What can we do?’

  ‘Leave it to me. I will think of something.’

  As she ran to tell Irina what had happened, she thought how wrong she’d been about Danilo. He was nothing like she had imagined. She was convinced it was Yulya, helping her from above, influencing her husband. For the first time in days, her heart filled with hope.

  *

  They had two days left together. In two days’ time, Maxim was going to be shot at dawn. When Irina had first heard the order, she was surprised she could continue breathing. It felt like something had exploded inside her. She was prepared for it, was expecting it and yet, she couldn’t take it.

  She had been spending all her time with Maxim, bringing Sonya to see him, trying to make the most of what little time they had left. ‘I love you. And I always will. Don’t you ever forget that,’ Maxim said to her while she was cradling his head and crying softly, her tears falling in his hair.