Warsaw

by Richard Foreman

  A pool of hushed tears still glistened in Jessica's sore eyes. Occasionally the tears welled to the point where they couldn't help but spill down her face. The stunned woman barely noticed the sensation and she had long left off wiping them away. Instead the remnants of the tears could be seen encrusted upon her cheeks.

  Adam had been gone for hours. Maybe, like the policeman had said, he was not coming back. Maybe he had seen the group of constables enter the building - or heard them in the flat whilst on the top of the stairs - and fled. No. Maybe Thomas was still with him and they were forming a plan. But what could they do?

  The one called Marek approached an increasingly fractious Yitzhak Meisel. Jessica pretended not to notice but she flittingly darted her eyes in the direction of the pair. Marek grinned and whispered something into the more senior policeman's ear whilst gesturing towards Jessica.

  Christian was in good form. He had generously arranged a flask of brandy each for the half dozen men who were willing to brave the winter evening and accompany himself and Dietmar on the hunt. Even when the truck kept stalling in the cold the Lieutenant was patient with the driver and merely whistled snatches of classical music over the spluttering sounds of the unserviced engine.

  Next to him Dietmar again checked the action upon his new rifle and again altered the length of the strap, attempting to find the perfect fit. His breath misted up in front of his face but the youth failed to feel the cold, warmed as he was by his sense of anticipation.

  His pacing ceased. Yitzhak Meisel formed a plan and came to a decision. He ordered Jessica to write a note to Duritz, saying that she feared the apartment block was unsafe and that she would hide out in a room on Sliska Street and that she would now wait for him there. At first Jessica lamely shook her head to refuse but then the malicious policeman addressed the woman, his truncheon resting under Kolya's chin.

  "We might still need you, but the boy we can dispose of at any time. It's Duritz who we want. I promise that if you co-operate in helping us apprehend the felon then we'll happily let you both go," Yitzhak pronounced, lying.

  "Why are you doing this?" Jessica asked, shaking her head in confusion rather than defiance; strands of hair became matted to her moist cheeks.

  "Why not?" the policeman exclaimed, shrugging. Yitzhak then grinned, his yellow dog tooth poking out beneath his upper lip, pleased as he was with the villainous humour and honest wisdom of his reply.

  Torn, shaking, Jessica was pressured into writing the condemning note. She begged for Adam's forgiveness as she did so. Marek had handed her the pencil and paper, amused by the girl's desperate state but also still aroused - wanting to possess her. He inwardly smirked, remembering that Meisel had a spare room and bed in the flat he was taking the woman to.

  The coughing sounds of a distant, stuttering truck engine disturbed Thomas' thoughts as if a fly were buzzing around his ear. A light drizzle freckled the air as the two men entered the foyer of the tenement block. Thomas placed a hand upon his friend's shoulder at the bottom of the stairs.

  "Wait Adam, there's something I should say. I've never said this to anyone before but -"

  The pause was at first created from the German still not knowing quite what to say, but then a distinct noise from above interrupted Thomas in his speech. The soldier grabbed his companion's arm and put his finger to his lips. They hurriedly retreated into what was previously the superintendent's office. The empty room was doorless - the door having been broken up for firewood - but still easily concealed the two men. The clatter of footsteps came to the bottom of the stairs and Adam's stomach sank upon hearing the familiar, dreaded voice.

  "Make sure you keep a good hand on the boy. He's as slippery as an eel. Although you wouldn't want to run off and leave your sister would you boy?" Yitzhak Meisel remarked, emitting a couple of croaky chuckles as he did so. The policeman had regained his confidence in catching up with the student - and was there not a further sense of triumph in leading his prey into a trap? As the party descended the short flight of stone steps and came out into the street the smile was suddenly wiped off the face of the policeman.

  After his initial paralysing shock Adam compelled to confront the policemen rescue Jessica. Thankfully Thomas anticipated and restrained Duritz from committing any rash act that could condemn them all. The stronger man forcibly pinned his friend against the wall.

  "Wait, now might not be the best time."

  Thomas could not know how right he was. Outside, a truck had pulled up in front of Meisel. At first the constable stood transfixed, scared, but then he acted confidently in dealing with the unwelcome SS patrol.

  "What are you doing there? Where are you going?" the brawny Sergeant commanded in a brusque voice, his square head jutting out from his greatcoat and fur hat.

  "We found a couple of evacuees who slipped through the net. We're taking them to the Umschlag, ready for tomorrow's deportation."

  "No you're not. You can put them on the back of the truck. We'll take care of them."

  If it had been another Jewish policeman - even his superior -Yitzhak Meisel would have argued his point. But he knew he had no choice but to comply with the German soldier.

  Thomas and Adam heard a stationary truck and carefully came out from their hideout to decipher the exchange of voices that they could hear in the background. The German cocked his rifle. Thomas also had a pistol (a Walther P38) concealed inside his greatcoat but he refrained from handing it over to Adam yet in case it could prompt him to act recklessly.

  Yitzhak Meisel was temporarily in two minds, whether to stay with his hostages or proceed to the apartment where, hopefully, he would finally corner Duritz. He solved the dilemma by ordering his two cohorts to rendezvous with him at the address whilst he stayed with the prisoners and went with them in the truck. Marek wanted to be further compensated for his time (petulant from having the girl snatched away from him). Sztokman reluctantly grunted in assent.

  "You don't mind if I come with you in the truck? These two have already got away once. I'd hate to see it happen again."

  "Don't worry, they won't be going far now. But you're welcome to ride along with us. We'll need the extra pair of hands later," the Sergeant garbled, his mouth half full from the bite of a sausage sandwich he had just taken.

  From what the German said - and the way he intoned it - the policeman realised that the routine patrol was not just a routine patrol. Meisel climbed into the back of the truck to find a collection of dishevelled Jews - who were about to act as quarry for one of Kleist's hunts.

  Jessica closed her eyes and willed her heart to be a beacon in the darkness that Adam would espy and be drawn to.

  The Sergeant glanced at the haul of the Jews he had rounded-up, looked at his watch – he was due to rendezvous with the Lieutenant five minutes ago - and ordered his driver to move on.

  Again Thomas had to pull back a despairing Duritz, a mixture of hopelessness and energy vying for sovereignty in the youth's features. The Corporal not only had an idea where the truck was heading but the brace of remaining policemen needed to be out of sight before they pursued the vehicle. The German briefly closed his careworn eyes, either in disbelief and despair at how a simple plan was spiralling out of control.

  "Remember Dietmar, squeeze rather than jerk upon the trigger. Make sure the butt is firmly, but comfortably, pressed into your shoulder. You shouldn't run before you can crawl so aim for a torso shot rather than thinking you can hit your target in the head or leg. To save any confusion keep to the targets on your side of the street rather than mine. Although I must confess that when I run out of my quota I'll look to finish of your share also," Christian playfully, yet also sincerely, remarked.

  Dietmar duly put on an attentive expression when listening to his partner's advice but then his studious face broke into a grin as Christian joked and winked at the youth. Fortunately they were only a block away from Elektoralna Street, near the old courthouse. Christian had ordered one of his Sergeants for them to mee
t outside the building for the event. Once the driver got underway, after the heaving engine finally turned over, they made it to their destination in a couple of minutes. The Sergeant was ten minutes late for their rendezvous but Christian was in such an agreeable mood that he allowed the tardiness to go unnoticed. Indeed rather than admonish his Sergeant Christian smiled upon seeing the man's dour, brutal mug. He clapped and rubbed his hands together - both in anticipation of the approaching sport.

  Before they set off from the apartment block Thomas gave Adam the pistol. The soldier sensed the Jew's unfamiliarity with holding the weapon (Adam was surprised by its weight) and knew now that he had to take control of the situation. It remained unspoken between the two men that they had crossed the point of no return - and that they were prepared to do what they had to do.

  "You have eight rounds. Keep your arm straight but then be ready for the recoil. Things will become loud and confusing but that can work to our advantage in the dark. They're not expecting us so make your first shots count. If possible try to keep track of how many bullets you fire. Aim low rather than high. Shoot the enemy nearest to you, then take his weapon and repeat the same tactic. I know that your first instinct will be to save Jessica but if we don't take out the soldiers between us and her then we won't be saving anyone. Try to keep to my pace when we run, but if you can't then let me know. Are you ready?"

  Adam pressed his lips together and tightly gripped the gelid handle of the gun in a show of wordless readiness. The two men then set off, the stygian darkness consuming the shadowy figures. Silvery-grey plumes of misted breath puffed out into the nothingness like chuffs of smoke from a night train as the two men sped away

  It was as if the savage evening had taken a bite out of the blotchy moon, but nevertheless the once majestic orb peeped out from behind the thick clouds as if it were curious about the events unfolding down upon Elektoralna Street.

  A tall SS Private with a harelip used his gun barrel to separate an ashen-faced Jewish woman and shivering boy. Jessica and Kolya had been holding hands. Even when their hands were parted the forlorn brother and sister still tried to maintain a connection through the telemetry in their expressions. The Private, who due to his deformed lip seemed to be perpetually sneering, nodded to indicate to his comrade that the "ducks" were ready. The soldier standing atop of the truck, manning the searchlight on the roof of the vehicle, nodded in reply. He grimaced as he heard the familiar tap-tap of rain fall on to the metal casing of the searchlight. Fortunately the initial droplets didn't presage a heavier downpour.

  Thomas felt the drizzle in the air as he surveyed the street, his face a picture of martial concentration. He recognised the unmistakable frame of Kleist standing upright in the cabin of one of the trucks. He was holding a rifle. Another figure, similarly holding a rifle, stood next to him. The driver's seat appeared to be vacated. A weapon-less soldier manned the searchlight behind the two men but otherwise the furthermost truck was empty. In front of the truck however Thomas could make out a tall Private lining the group of Jews up across the street. He could not yet see Jessica and Kolya but Thomas was prevented from surveying the entire street because of the two vehicles. The second, nearest, truck was parked directly behind the first, separated by about ten yards. The driver was still behind the wheel. Thomas noted the hulking Sergeant sitting in the back of the truck, his rifle ready in his hands. A quartet of soldiers congregated together just behind the second truck, smoking and stamping their feet in the cold. Three of the men had rifles slung over the shoulders whilst, ominously, the last man (a Corporal) possessed a MP40, a sub-machine-gun. One targeted burst from the weapon could end it all immediately. Between the group of soldiers and the line of victims who were being arranged to be fired upon Thomas could just about make out, through the gap between the two vehicles, a Jewish policeman.

  During this minute or so in which Thomas tried to scan the scene and hastily form a plan of attack Adam stood, doubled-up, behind the soldier, attempting to catch his breath. As much as Adam knew to take deep breaths he was still compelled to pant after the exhaustive pursuit of the truck.

  The Lieutenant removed his cap and placed it upon the driver's seat inside the truck's cabin. He straightened his hair and rolled his head around on his neck to relieve any stiffness. The young adjutant next to him did the same, watching and mimicking the mentoring officer's rituals as best he could.

  Kolya watched them, anxiety displacing hate. Small eyes in the darkness. He had heard about the Lieutenant and his hunts before. He knew he would not survive but at the same time Kolya still formed an idea as to where he would run. He would sprint diagonally to his right across the road and try to make the open doorway to the tenement block. Hopefully the building would have a back exit. The youth tried to subtlety motion his head and eyes to Jessica to communicate that she should do the same. The child's face was waxen in the dull moonlight, his blood flooding his vital organs.

  Jessica thought, from Kolya's prompting expression, that he was trying to tell her something but the girl felt she needed now to collect her final thoughts. Her head was bowed in submitting to God, rather than the Germans. She smiled, thinking upon Adam. She loved him. She would die happy believing that he would make it through the war. He had so much to give. So did Kolya. She would attempt to run behind the boy, try to shield him.

  "I need you to concentrate upon taking out the group of soldiers next to the truck on the left side. It's important that you aim for the man carrying the machine-gun first. You'll see the Sergeant at the back of the truck out of the corner of your eye but don't get distracted. I'll take care of him. Remember, you have eight shots. Try to make them count. I've got five, before I have to re-load. I'm going to take out Kleist and the man standing next to him. Upon my first shot, that's when you need to run towards your targets and commence shooting. After that I'm going to aim for the Sergeant. After that the driver should then be in my sights. There's a Jewish policeman with them but hopefully he won't cause any trouble. Hopefully, also, Jessica and Kolya will get themselves out of there as soon as the shooting starts."

  Adam nodded and then wiped his sweaty palm upon his trousers, re-fixing the Mauser securely in his hand.

  "Listen carefully. If you did not already know it, your sole and simple task is to try and make it to the end of the street. I am not going to lie to you; I'm a good shot (Christian here smirked to himself). If you do make it to the end of the block however I give you my word that you will be allowed to return back to your families."

  Yitzhak Meisel's overcast expression changed a little. This is why it had been worth remaining with the woman and boy. There was always a chance that something could happen and they would be set free, into his custody.

  A final prayer bloomed from the girl’s lips - her words like wisps of smoke spiralling up into the night.

  “The Lord is my shepherd;

  I have everything I need.

  He lets me rest in fields of green grass

  and leads me to quiet pools of fresh water.

  He gives me new strength.

  He guides me in the right paths, as he has promised.

  Even if I go through the deepest darkness,

  I will not be afraid, Lord, for you are with me.

  Your shepherd’s rod and staff protect me.”

  Thomas crept along the street and dropped to one knee like some nineteenth century skirmisher. He wrapped the strap of his rifle around in his hand in order to keep it out of his way. The soldier took a deep breath and exhaled. He flexed his hand a couple of times to take the tension out of it. It was a routine that Thomas had gone through many times - mostly before the war when he had gone on hunting trips. He heard Kleist's voice in the background but blanked it out as he ran his eye along the barrel of the rifle.

  "When you hear the sound of the -"

  The bullet thudded into the officer's back and came out through his chest, shattering his bottom left rib as it did so. Blood immediately flooded his lun
gs and vomited up into his mouth, his intended words becoming muffled in a series of gurgling noises.

  Thomas did not even look to register the result of his first shot before he efficiently fired upon the figure standing next to the Lieutenant. A disorientated Dietmar barely had a chance to be so before the terrible sound ripped through the air again and he was slammed against the windshield of the truck. The bullet sliced through his right shoulder. Shock and terror stopped his heart as the youth felt the blood splash against his face and pump out from the smoking wound. He fainted, slumping down in the cabin next to a still breathing, but dying, Christian.

  After the first shot Adam began to run, his heart beating wildly. He gulped for air and - either just before or after the Thomas' second shot rang out - Duritz began shooting himself. He ran with his arm raised and - squinting in some gesture towards an aim - he fired twice. The first shot, directed at the heart of the group, somehow managed to miss everyone. Adam's second pistol shot however caught one of the Germans. He had been squaring up to fire upon the Jewish assassin but the pistol shot had caught him in the chest, flooring him instantly.

  Kolya attempted to grab his sister by the hand but he somehow got separated from her in the confusion. Man-made thunder and lightning rained down on the street. So possessed had Kolya been by the idea previously that the boy altered not his plan to make it to the sanctuary of the building across the street. When he reached the protection of the doorway he looked back. Bullets scorched the air, zipping through the night like demonic fireflies. Flashes of light sneezed out from rifle barrels but then darkness shrouded over the scene again. Various chaotic sounds scoured the scene - fruitlessly attempting to find some common order and coherence.