by Margo Gorman
But if you could get her started on a story and keep her going, she was almost back there and it was like watching someone on T.V. She searched now for something that would get the aunt going again: ‘So how did you get out of the camp?’ She put emphasis on the how to distract from whatever.
‘I was only there seven months but it was the longest seven months of my life. There were so many people who died or were gassed or killed in some other way I didn’t expect to live through it. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Worse than waiting for Katharina to move out. Worse than waiting for Katharina to die. Worse than waiting now for Katharina to be buried. Waiting for Anna to die in the camp – hours that were as long as days. What would come first – the end of the war or some new torture of desperation? Waiting without knowing is worse than living without hope. People talk of the numbers who died. I marvel yet that there were some who lived all those long years there. I wouldn’t have survived so long.’
‘So how did you get out?’ Aisling put the emphasis on ‘did’ this time.
‘Irma saved me. She came to our block when the whole place was falling apart. We talked of looking forward to spring. We meant surviving that place. We could smell the fear of the guards rising as the Allies advanced on the East Front or the West Front. Irma wanted me because I could help her communicate with the British or Americans if she needed that. It was her who told me that I had been arrested after the Allies had entered Germany in September 1944. I didn’t even know that the Allies had made it that far. She was a red star but wasn’t cliquish like some.’
‘The end of the war must have been hard,’ Aisling prompted.
‘In those last days, the place became chaotic. That caused problems too. The more the fear rose up in the guards, the more unpredictable they were. The women were worse than the men. Only once, while Anna was alive, did I ever see signs of feeling. There were some good singers in our block although it was mostly hymns that they sang. They weren’t supposed to sing but sometimes, like around Christmas, even the guards couldn’t stop it.
‘The worst of the guards was a women built like a tank. I heard someone once murmur her nickname. I thought they said Tänzer – Dancer not Panzer. Anna loved that new nickname. It was hard to imagine her dancing so that made it even funnier. We giggled like schoolgirls about ‘tanzen’ when she was near and the best was that she never knew why talking about dancing made us laugh.
‘One night around Christmas she asked one of the women in our block to sing a song about a pony. It was some well-known German folk song they told me. I couldn’t really follow what happened this pony but it must have been a sad story because she cried. Anna and I hugged each other with laughter later. The Panzer had an underbelly. There was delight near happiness to see some sign of weakness in the monster. I hated her and I hated her dog, which was like an extension of her. They all thought more of their dogs than they did of fellow human beings.’ Brigitte paused again and Aisling filled her glass with water. They sat in silence for a few minutes.Brigitte’s tone was so low when she started the story again, the street sounds seemed louder, ‘After Anna died in January, life there became more and more unbearable. It was harder and harder to keep clean – the showers and toilets hardly worked any more. The guards did nothing except talk amongst themselves and beat anyone who stepped an inch out of line. Irma taught me how to be like a shadow. Taught me how to show respect even to the guards without fear and without accepting the ugliness and cruelty. She is my best friend even now. She is so clever too. ‘
Pause. A dog barked into their silence from the street. Brigitte’s voice became stronger and louder. ‘One day I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Irma lying down on the floor and playing with Panzer’s dog. She would let it lick her face. She even gave it a bit of precious bread. She dared me to do it too. The only reason I did it is that I had been practising how to keep on the right side of that dog. My brother Liam taught me how to not be afraid of dogs. He said they could smell your fear but if you could control your fear they would pass you by and bite someone else. I wanted to impress Irma. I needed her respect.’
‘Does she live here?’
‘No, she lives in Austria. She always sent me a card at Christmas with photos of her children and grandchildren. Now she goes nearly every year to the commemoration and she visits me when she comes. She says it helps to visit and to remember and that I should do it too. Katharina and Irma talked and talked about those times and what they have done to make it a museum. How could they make a museum of that place? They should have put bulldozers through it long ago.’
‘So if it’s a museum, I could go and look?’ Aisling perked up –might make an interesting day trip. She could check out for herself what was true and what wasn’t.
‘Nowadays it is easy, you can go there by train from Berlin to Fürstenberg and you can walk to the camp. She always asked me to go but I never want to see that place again. I’m glad that the Russian soldiers used it all the time Katharina was growing up. The only regret I have now is that the Russians didn’t destroy that place before they left. Now it is a place for students and tourists, Katharina told me. She went with Irma when Irma visited us for the first time in 1992. She went back again with her Jules. Now they have talking films and photos. She was cross with me for not telling her more. She wanted me to do one of those videos she found there.’ Brigitte mimicked Katharina, ‘Mama, why didn’t you tell me it was as bad as any concentration camp. You talked always about the Lager you spent months in as if it was more of a workcamp. I didn’t know it was like Belsen or Auschwitz. It’s typical that because it was mostly women, no-one hears about it – not even in Germany.’ She made it sound like a conspiracy. I didn’t tell her most of the people who survived that place don’t want anyone to know about it. What good is talking about it now? To bring the misery back? Every time Katharina went there, she came back from there with questions, questions and more questions.’
She mimicked Katharina again: “How did you get out? Were you still there when the Allies liberated it? Were you on the death march?” I laughed in her face and told her that we ran away into the woods and then took a train back to Berlin. Katharina was angry then and told me she found out more from Irma in a few hours than she did from me in a lifetime. I reminded her then of her favourite bedtime story when she was a child – the story of Mitza and Biddy,the two cats who escaped into the forest and hid with all the other animals from the hunter and his dog. If they were captured they would be taken back to the place of cruelty they had escaped from. If they fell down and couldn’t walk any further, the hunter would shoot them. “Mama, you and your riddles,” she said and looked at me as if she despised me.’
‘So how did you get out – was the War over then? Did you really run away into the woods and then get a train back to Berlin?’
Brigitte laughed her throaty laugh, ‘Almost true. So what’s wrong with that?’
‘Not a thing,’ Aisling replied, knowing now that she would hear more.
‘Katharina says Irma told her we were freed by the Soviet army. But Irma would say that. Even now she is still some sort of Communist. I don’t talk to her about politics. We weren’t freed by anyone. It was more being ready to take the… the what?’ Brigitte stopped, ‘So many words in German and in English and sometimes I can find neither of them – die Gelegenheit.’
‘Chance, opportunity,’ Aisling prompted.
‘You know more German than you let on, young lady, you should practise it more. You never know when it will come in useful. Das blinde Huhn findet auch einmal ein Korn.’
‘Die hund? What has the dog finding its corner got to do with anything?’ Aisling asked.
Brigitta laughed so much she nearly choked. ‘I said the blind hen can always find some corn. Huhn for hen, hund for dog, Korn for corn not Corner for corner.’
Aisling blushed. She hated being made to feel a fool. ‘So what actually happened? What did you do?’
Brigitte coughed new wind into her
sails from the laughter and took a breath, ‘There was no point trying to get past guards in the camp – getting caught and then everyone in the block would be punished. I wouldn’t have risked that – not even for Irma. The guards were more and more jumpy so we knew something was happening. Irma found out that they planned to move us to another place. There were so many movements of people in and out; none of us knew what would happen from one day to the next. Every day there were whispers that the Russians were getting closer on the Eastern Front. Irma pieced together every snippet of news. Even the Zeugen Jehovahs would listen to her. They were more afraid of the Russians than the German guards and many planned to flee with the families of the German guards if they got a chance. Irma told me always to be ready and to stay close to her. She didn’t need to tell me. I clung to her like a baby – night and day. She told me I should try to keep some bread if I could. Hard as it was, I managed a bit,’ Brigitte paused and lit a cigarette.
Aisling watched the smoke rise and breathed in, telling herself it was a joint. An imaginary joint was good enough in this strange new space of listening and watching herself and this old woman, who was becoming more and more of a person as the days went by. The young Brigitte from the War didn’t fit so easily into ‘the aunt’ box.
Chapter Eighteen – Liberation
‘Waiting is the worst,’ Brigitte breathed out another column of smoke into the streak of sunlight that crossed the room, bringing with it the sticky heat of the street. Aisling sat in cut-offs and a sleeveless t-shirt with her legs slung over the arm of the sofa.
‘You are a persuasive young lady. You make me want to talk. But you must first show me your drawings.’
‘What drawings?’
‘The drawings in the book beside you. You told me you wanted to tell Anna’s story with drawings like a comic-strip with only a few words?
‘I haven’t done any drawings of the camp yet,’ Aisling lied.
‘Take care not to make lying a bad habit, young lady.’
‘O.K. so I’ve made a few sketches but nothing I could show anyone yet.’
‘You have no need to be shy with me.’
‘I’m not shy. I’ll show you later. You didn’t finish the story of your escape and you haven’t told me why they put you in there in the first place.’
‘When we knew the war was nearly over, it fed hope. We watched the guards make a big circus tent to house women who came from other camps. You could hear it flap in the wind. Those creatures barely had latrines and no tap for water. No beds. If they were lucky they had something to lie on. I could see them sometimes with their spoons held up to catch the rain or their faces and mouths open. Irma risked her life many times in those last days of chaos to take a bucket of water to them. To me, she whispered words – not long now. We knew something was brewing when the Red Cross came and Suhren let them take several thousand of women with them.’
‘Suhren?’
‘The camp chief, a name without a face for ordinary inmates like me. Irma found out he allowed the Red Cross to take prisoners of war from England, France, Denmark and Belgium. It was rumoured there were well-known women among them and Suhren was hoping that they would speak up for him later. Irma tried to persuade me to put myself forward with the other Irish.’
‘There were more Irish in the camp?’ Aisling found that unexpected.
‘Only two. They were Irish but they were in the British army. Probably undercover agents. We managed whispers across the brick line on the building work. I was glad it wasn’t easy for us to meet. I didn’t want any part in the war. All through the war Ireland stayed neutral. I was afraid the Red Cross would send me to England or back to Ireland. If the war was really over, I wanted to go back to Berlin. My love affair with Germany wasn’t over in spite of Hitler. I trusted Irma more than any of them, so I stayed with her. She knew they would move us all in a few days.’
‘So you didn’t escape?’
‘Not so quick, young lady. It took time. They moved the end blocks first on 27th April. From the size of the first column, Irma worked out that there would be at least three lots of us and we would be in the second or last. The guards were even more jumpy than usual. We hardly slept that night – more waiting and waiting, then it happened so fast. Appell was even earlier than usual. They called out the numbers of those they were moving. I listened so hard that I didn’t even hear my number but Irma nodded to me. I followed her every step. We breathed the sharp air of dawn. I said goodbye to Anna when the sky turned pink over the tall pine trees. Everything was confused and disorderly leaving the camp. If you were lucky you could find some of your belongings on the tables made ready for those of us in the column. I got my bundle tied up in Delia’s Sunday tablecloth – just as I had left it. The most amazing thing was the Red Cross parcel we were given as we left. We didn’t even have time to open it as they marched us out. It was cumbersome to carry but the whispers of bread and sugar kept the string tied to our numb fingers.’
Aisling poured them both some water then sketched a few outlines in her book, ready to work on later. The aunt watched her but continued with her story without commenting on her drawings.
‘There were about five hundred of us in our group. Even Irma had no idea where we were headed but I could see her take bearings. As the sun rose, it made the steam rise on the cool earth like a low mist. I thanked Anna’s God she was dead already; she would never make it through this. The first day we walked non-stop. We were marched so fast we almost had to run, those wooden clogs flaying the skin on my feet. First we were on the main road in the direction of Neustrelitz but not for long. There was a sign KZ, which led us into the forest. Irma was happy when we crossed the train tracks. She was obsessed with trains. She needed trains to be there to reassure her she would make it back to Vienna. All day we could hear the sound of cannon from the east – the Russians. Irma liked that too. Well she would, she was a communist and saw the Russians as her allies but the Zeugen Jehovahs were more terrified than ever. At that point I didn’t care about anything except putting one clog in front of the other. At times I was sorry I didn’t ask to be among the Red Cross group. We had little energy or little breath to talk,’ Brigitte stopped to take breath.
Aisling was afraid she would fall back into a doze and stop the story, ‘and the escape..,’ she prompted.
‘The escape… ’ Brigitte paused again, ‘Well, I knew Irma was planning to use this march as a chance to escape. It was a matter of time and luck. Moving too soon meant death. Too late could mean being caught up in the last struggle with the Russians coming from the East. Even the Zeugen Jehovahs were thinking escape at this point. Irma watched and waited. One woman in our column who tried to disappear into the trees was spotted and the guard went after her and shot her on the spot. Better to wait – something would have to happen soon. Later we came close to the main road again and now we walked alongside the railway and sometimes we could see the main road full of people – German soldiers, trucks, civilians.’
Brigitte stopped to take some water and Aisling poured some more.
‘I don’t know to this day how Irma picked up the rumours that the Germans were planning to blow up the munitions factory at Fürstensee in the afternoon. Irma had antennae and could pick a whisper from thin air. She must have overheard the guards and understood why they marched us at such speed. We found out later the local people were told in the middle of the afternoon what would happen so they had to leave their homes. Irma’s eyes were bright with warning when the time came to pass on the news. Sure enough at some time in the afternoon of 28th April, there was a sudden almighty explosion – so close everyone in our column including the guards ran for more cover among the trees. We intermingled with some local Germans who were taking refuge in the forest.’
Aisling fiddled with her pencil. Making more notes now. This part would be better told without any words. And the faces full of terror?
‘Were you more afraid of the explosion or the guards?’
> ‘There wasn’t time to be afraid. Everything was so confused. We didn’t know whether the guards were still with us or not, or whether they would come and shoot us on the spot for running. From the Bifos in our group, we heard some of the women guards were waiting for the chance to run away and some of the Bifos from our block had joined with them, but there were other guards ready to shoot any prisoner. Irma pushed us through exhaustion deeper and deeper into the wet marshy land. They couldn’t reach us with jeeps there and it was hard for the dogs to keep track. Later in the evening a group of us collapsed on the damp ground. Irma found a spot for us to sleep on the damp earth under the trees near a lake. At first it was so welcome just to lie there and breathe in the smell of clean earth and trees but after a couple of hours, the cold woke us. We all knew by then that blowing up the munitions dump was a sure sign the war was over. We celebrated by washing our feet and our faces in the lake by moonlight. Irma pushed us to walk through the rest of the night. Sometimes a stumble on a tree root would wake me as I dozed.’
‘What, you slept while you were walking along?’ Aisling cocked her head to one side.
‘When you are tired enough, you can sleep anywhere, even on your feet.’
Aisling wanted to tell Brigitte to wipe the trace of chocolate from the corner of her mouth. It took the edge off the drama. The march of prisoners with their German guards – right in the middle of the war with the advance of the Russians on the one side – was something to live through. A good antidote for boredom. Enough terror and heroism to match any comic but rooted too. How to get over the confusion and keep the sequence easy to follow?
‘So if the Russians were coming close to you, where were the Americans and the British?’
‘I don’t know about the British but the next day we saw American planes in the sky. It was on the third morning when the sound of birds singing woke me, I knew something had happened. Irma was awake already. Later we learnt that by then the Russians were already at Fürstensee. So we knew either the Russians or the Americans would round up the rest of the soldiers and guards. So we were free. Free to be hungry in the middle of no-where. Free to wait for crazy guards to shoot us for fear we would incriminate them. Irma and I still had something of our Red Cross parcel and we breakfasted from that – bread sprinkled with a bit of sugar. We drank the water from the lake. We hid during the day in a hollow. Irma made us collect twigs and branches to conceal us from guards fleeing the same way. We shared the last of our Red Cross parcel. Irma was elated – the Communists were going to rebuild a better world and she would be alive to see it. She knew better than to say as much to the Bifos though, and even joined with them when they prayed in thanksgiving.’
