Karolina's Twins

by Ronald H. Balson

  “Wait a minute, Lena,” Catherine said. “You never told me what happened when Karolina told Siegfried that she was pregnant. What did he do?”

  “I’m trying to keep this chronological. Siegfried was sent on a delivery detail, taking finished coats in a convoy up north. He was gone and didn’t return for a few weeks. The day he returned, Karolina was sitting at her station, and he came over to tell her he was back and that he wanted to see her. She didn’t come home that night.

  “I saw her at the break the next afternoon. She winked at me. Because there were other women around, all she could say was, ‘It’s good. Tell you later.’

  “She didn’t come back to our apartment to sleep for a few days. When she did, she filled me in. Siegfried had stopped at his home on his way back and told his mother that he had fallen in love with a German girl. He wanted to get married as soon as possible.”

  “A German girl?”

  “Well, technically he was correct. Chrzanów had been annexed into Germany along with the Upper Silesian towns in 1939 after the Blitzkrieg. So she really was a German girl in 1942. And she could speak German. He figured he could get away with it.”

  “She was a Jew, not a German citizen.”

  “Details, details. He figured with the progress the Germans were making, the war would soon be over and he’d return to Bavaria with Karolina, his German girlfriend. But Karolina wasn’t quite as optimistic. She related the conversation to me.

  “‘Did your mother ask you about my religion?’ Karolina had said.

  “He hemmed and hawed, and finally said, ‘Well, she didn’t ask me. I guess she just made her assumptions. She only asked me what kind of a person you were—and I told her beautiful, exciting, sweet and lovely.’

  “‘What’s she going to do when she finds out who I really am?’

  “‘Why would she find out? Who would tell her?’

  “‘Siegfried, I think you’re being naïve. The Germans trace everybody’s bloodlines. They’ll want to know who my parents and grandparents were.’

  “‘Don’t worry,’ Siegfried said. ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. After the war no one will care.’

  “So, that’s how Karolina and Siegfried left it. They would take it day by day. For the moment they were both at the Shop. He would make sure she was well taken care of, with food, clothing and special treatment.”

  “Pretty risky, if you ask me,” Catherine said. “What if Siegfried were transferred? There was a war going on.”

  “What were her alternatives? We were prisoners in a ghetto, under awful circumstances. We had learned that the ghetto was to be cleared out, that we would be sent somewhere else. What did the future hold for us? Karolina’s plan, no matter how improbable, was at least a plan.

  “From then on, Karolina would spend an occasional night away and I didn’t question her. I came to understand that it wasn’t all for food and privilege. She had genuine feelings for her German soldier. I was not about to sit in judgment on my best friend.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  THROUGH THE SPRING OF 1942, Karolina and I stayed locked in a routine. We went to work every day at the Shop. I would occasionally carry reports to the colonel, though they were coming much less frequently. Karolina would spend time with Siegfried and I was increasing my time with David. But routines are so deceiving. They make you believe in constancy. In Chrzanów, the only constant was unpredictability. Chrzanów was changing. Deportations were on the increase. More names were posted every day.

  “To some extent, productive workers at the Shop were spared from transports. David made sure that Karolina and I were known to be among the best coat producers, so we were sure to be left off the lists. But the writing was on the wall. The ghetto was shrinking. Soon there would be no more Jews in Chrzanów.

  “Changes were also taking place at the Shop. New German managers were arriving and David was training and delegating some of his responsibilities to younger German soldiers. One night in May, as we lay together in David’s room, he told me that he had heard about a new garment factory at a sub-camp in Germany. He was asked to participate in a meeting where the organization of the camp was discussed.

  “‘I may have to go there to set up the factory.’

  “‘When?’

  “‘They didn’t say. If it happens, it’ll probably be next year sometime.’

  “‘Can you take us with you?’

  “‘You mean you and Karolina?’

  “‘Of course.’

  “He thought about it for a while and then said, ‘I can train you as a shop foreman. But not Karolina too.’

  “I nodded. ‘It’ll be okay. Siegfried will take care of her. He’s going to marry her and take her to live on his parents’ farm in Bavaria.’

  “David shook his head. ‘Are you kidding?’

  “‘Why?’

  “‘We’re in the middle of a war. Siegfried is a young enlisted man, a schütze, an infantryman. How is he going to take Karolina as his wife and go to live in Bavaria? He’s stationed here. He could be sent anywhere. Right now, Germany has almost four million troops fighting on the Eastern Front. Every infantryman I’ve talked to is afraid he’ll be shipped there tomorrow. Siegfried has no rank, no seniority.’

  “‘He’s told Karolina that when he gets the chance he’ll take her to stay with his mother until the war is over.’

  “‘I hope for her sake that it works out, but I’m skeptical.’ He rolled over and kissed me. ‘But you—I don’t want to lose you. I can train you as my shop foreman and try to bring you along.’

  ‘What does a shop foreman do?’

  “He smiled. ‘Whatever I tell her to do.’

  “‘Is that so? Well, I don’t know if I like this job.’”

  Lena stopped and took a deep breath. “It’s funny—in the middle of the horrors of the occupation, we found moments to be happy. Life could be sweet and laying with David was the sweetest of all. I knew he’d do everything he could to protect me. I felt certain we’d survive and be together forever.”

  “But?”

  “He was sent away a week later. It was all sudden and shocking. I came to work and a German officer was introduced to the Shop workers as the new foreman. Siegfried told Karolina that David had been transferred to a new location deep in Germany. I was devastated. We didn’t even get a chance to say good-bye.”

  “That must have been awful. The two of you had become so close.”

  “We were intimate one night and separated the next. I had no idea when or if I would ever see him again. My protector was gone, my lover was gone, and I had no idea what my role in the network would be. No matter which way you turned, the war would punch you in the face. I decided to go see the colonel.

  “I had no assignment to take coats and no written authority to leave the ghetto. I couldn’t push the cart full of coats as I had in the past. If I were stopped on the way to or from Colonel Müller’s, I would have no excuse. But I went anyway. I knocked on the door and the colonel’s daughter answered. She turned and yelled, ‘Daddy, the girl from the coat factory is here again.’

  “Colonel Müller came to the door with a puzzled look on his face. We stood on the stoop. ‘What are you doing here?’

  “‘David has been sent away.’

  “‘I know that. He’s been transferred to Gross-Rosen. There’s a textile factory up there.’

  “‘When is he coming back?’

  “He shook his head. ‘There are no plans to bring him back.’

  “‘But what about the Shop?’

  “‘Major Fahlstein is now in charge. I’m sure you’ve seen him. But it doesn’t matter. The Shop will be closed within eight months.’

  “For me, it was like getting hit in the gut with a series of punches. One right after another. ‘What about the network?’

  “‘You’ve never heard about a network, remember?’

  “I was dazed. ‘I want to be sent to Gross-Rosen. Can you arrange it?’


  “He shook his head. ‘You don’t want to go there, it’s a concentration camp. The conditions are terrible.’

  “‘They’re terrible in Chrzanów.’

  “‘They’re much worse at Gross-Rosen. Now go home, little hitchhiker. Stay in Chrzanów as long as you can. Survival. It’s all about survival.’

  “He went into the house, came back with an authorization for me to be on the street and told me it would be best if I didn’t come around anymore. He wouldn’t be able to explain it.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  SUMMER PASSED AND THE crisp autumn nights returned. Life at the Shop went on, but all around us the ghetto was deflating. Each week, the names of families were posted on the town kiosk. They were instructed to appear at the square with their suitcases. On the appointed day, German soldiers, many with dogs, took roll call and marched them off to the train station for their so-called resettlement. Some of the transports were going north to labor camps at Mauthausen and Gross-Rosen, but as the fall progressed, the majority of the trains were going straight to Auschwitz. I watched in horror as families walked with their young children and babies, knowing from the secret reports that they were destined to be separated on arrival and sent to die. Fourteen years old was the cutoff for survival at Auschwitz.

  “By November, Karolina was getting as big as a house. Major Fahlstein would look at her and shake his head, but Siegfried lobbied for her and convinced the major that she was producing better than most of the girls at the Shop. After all, it was the production numbers that mattered. If you produced, you stayed. If your numbers fell, you were shipped out. With the transports, the number of seamstresses was declining significantly and the major needed all of his good workers. So Karolina had a job as long as she could sit up.

  “Without David, news of the war consisted only of scattered rumors, mostly untrue: the British had retaken France, Berlin had been bombed, Hitler was dead. All nonsense. Through Siegfried, we heard the other side, the Nazi propaganda: German troops were on the steps of Moscow, America had surrendered to the Japanese, London had been bombed to smithereens. In Chrzanów, we were truly on an information island, isolated from the rest of the world.

  “One day turned into the next. We continued with our daily routines even though the ghetto’s fate was preordained—all Jews were to be resettled. By December, more than half our population had packed a suitcase and boarded the trains to other camps. I was told that the Shop would be closed within weeks and that the manufacture of coats and uniforms was being relocated to labor camps. It made sense. In Chrzanów, workers were still receiving wages, even Jews. But a shop that paid wages could not compete with the concentration camps that had slave labor. Manufacturing Economics 101.

  “December also saw the return of the winter freeze. Once again we stuffed newsprint in the window seams. We slept in our coats. But this time around, it was hard for Karolina and me to sleep together under the same blankets. She was so uncomfortable, she couldn’t sleep anyway. She’d get up in the middle of the night and roll her back over a soccer ball. She’d have to stretch to take deep breaths. She was always apologizing for all the grunts and groans that came with every movement.

  “With the end of the ghetto patently in sight, Karolina decided to raise the issue of going to live with Siegfried’s mother in Bavaria. Wouldn’t it be wiser to have the baby there, in a clean and warm environment? When could we go? But Siegfried said the timing was bad. He couldn’t get leave to travel and he hadn’t figured out how he’d get Karolina out of the ghetto just yet. But he told her not to worry.”

  “That bastard never intended to marry her, did he?” Catherine said.

  “You’re wrong. He loved her very much. I know that now. I suppose, given the time and circumstances, they were just fools in love. She believed they’d make a home together and raise a family, just as he was foolish enough to think he could accomplish it all during the war. But he loved her and he continued to provide us with food, fruit, milk, cheese and meat. As a result, we were the healthiest two girls in the ghetto.

  “Karolina’s contractions started in the first week of January. After work, we asked Muriel Bernstein to come and have a look at her. Muriel was a student nurse in Kraków before the war, and thank God she was still working at the clinic. The Judenrat had been able to keep two doctors and three nurses in the Chrzanów clinic and off the deportation list.

  “‘She’s dilating,’ Muriel said. ‘It won’t be long now. Get yourselves some clean sheets and clean water. Come get me when the contractions are ten minutes apart.’

  “Muriel wasn’t wrong. At six the next morning I ran to the clinic. ‘Where’s Muriel Bernstein?’

  “‘She hasn’t come in yet. She’s probably still at home. At number fourteen Sosna Street.’

  “I ran there as fast as I could, but found that Muriel had gone to the bakery to stand in line for bread and rolls. Off I ran again. When I got to the bakery, I found her near the back of the line. ‘She’s having her baby,’ I said, totally out of breath. ‘She says her contractions are three minutes.’

  “‘Three minutes? I told you to get me at ten minutes.’

  “‘I know, but I was sleeping and she didn’t want to wake me.’

  “The two of us took off and ran back to the building to find Karolina lying on her back, her hands clenching the sides of the mattress with all her might. ‘Oh my God, it hurts,’ she cried.

  “Muriel bent down, spread Karolina’s knees and said, ‘Oh, mercy, not a minute to spare. I see the crown.’ She spread the clean sheet underneath and washed her hands. ‘Okay, it’s time. You’re going to have your baby now, Karolina. Give her a push. Harder, Karolina. C’mon, girl.’

  “Karolina screamed and Rachel entered the world, a beautiful little six-pound girl. Muriel handed the baby to me. ‘Hold her,’ she said. ‘Karolina’s not finished yet.’ Muriel kneeled back down on the floor. ‘Karolina, you’ve got another one coming. You’re going to have to give me another big push. C’mon, honey. Push hard.’ The second little girl was born two minutes later. She named her Leah. The three of us sat there looking at these two lovely babies and cried. There they were. Karolina’s twins.

  “I carry that image in my mind as clearly as if it were this morning. Karolina lying on her bed, a baby on each arm. The sweetest smile you ever saw on my best friend’s face. Muriel stood washing her hands. Me? I just stood there crying.

  “‘May God bless the three of you,’ Muriel said. ‘May we all survive this war in health and love.’”

  Catherine set down her notepad, stood and stretched. “That’s lovely, Lena. A beautiful story. Now we need to break. It’s late, it’s Friday night and I’m tired. Let’s pick this up first thing tomorrow morning.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  LIAM MET CATHERINE AT the door, helped her with her coat and gave her his welcome-home kiss. “How’d it go today?”

  “Remember when I said that listening to Lena’s narrative didn’t disturb me as much as when I sat with Ben?”

  “Right. You said it was no less horrific, but more manageable because you thought you could help her.”

  Catherine nodded. “I could be wrong.”

  “About helping her?”

  “About being more manageable. It’s unsettling, Liam. It disturbs me to the core. I’m angry. I want revenge. I want retribution. I want to parade every one of those Nazi monsters to their ultimate roll call and watch as judgment is pronounced.”

  “It was seventy years ago, Cat. They lost the war, many stood trial before a war crimes tribunal, and most of them went to jail or were executed. Germany paid billions in retribution.”

  “And the lives that they took, were they restored as well, Liam? The moms, the dads, the babies—did they give them back their lives?”

  “I understand. How is Lena taking all this, reliving the story day-by-day?”

  Catherine shook her head. “Cool as a cucumber. Oh, every once in a while she’ll pause, take a deep breath and plow for
ward. Sometimes she’ll weep, but she keeps it all under control.”

  “She’s a woman on a mission. How far did you get today?”

  “Karolina had her babies. Rachel and Leah. The story was beautiful, heartwarming. I wanted to cheer. Except there’s no way those babies survived.”

  “Lena thinks they did.”

  “I know. I was tempted to go all night just to find out how she thinks they survived, but all my instincts tell me it would have been impossible. Siegfried’s never going to take those two Jewish babies to his mother’s home deep in Germany. Karolina’s a fool to think that. Winter is coming to Chrzanów and the buildings are unheated. Food is scarce. How are newborns going to survive? And then, of course, there is the Final Solution. The ghetto is being deconstructed, due to be cleared of all Jews within months. The buildings will be razed. The ghetto torn down. Whoever is left will board trains for transport to other camps, and most will go to Auschwitz. Babies, children under fourteen, disabled, the elderly—they won’t be resettled. They’ll be murdered as soon as they arrive at a camp. Only the young and strong have a chance at survival. We know now that almost all of Poland’s three million Jews were murdered.”

  “But Lena believes the twins survived?”

  Catherine shrugged. “Apparently.”

  “Do you still believe there is a hidden secret yet to be revealed?”

  “Without a doubt. Every bone in my lawyer’s being senses a deep, dark secret. But I don’t know if she’ll ever willingly reveal it. I might sniff it out, but maybe not.”

  “Delusional?”

  “I don’t think so. She’d have to have one hell of an imagination. She tells the story in such detail. But do me a favor. See if Nazi records show the existence of a Colonel Müller. If so, was he assigned to Chrzanów? And if so, what happened to him?”

  “Okay. I should be able to do that. But I have to tell you, I’m more than a little concerned about you. In your condition, you know, experiencing the details, bit by bit, of…”