The Voyage: A Historical Novel set during the Holocaust, inspired by real events

by Roberta Kagan

There was blood on her underwear and blood in the water of the toilet. Anna felt like crying, or screaming, or beating her fists against the wall, but she knew it wouldn’t help. She was less than a month pregnant, and now she’d lost the baby.

  “Anna, are you here?”

  Damn him, she thought. Can’t I have a single moment that is not about taking care of his needs? I am upset, my heart is breaking. Can’t I just be left alone?

  “Anna...”

  “I’ll be right there,” she said.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,”Alex said.

  “I said I’ll be right there.”

  Anna washed away the blood that had stained her inner thighs, and then she put the rags she used for her menstrual period in place. She had been so hopeful that this child would fulfill her need to love something pure and undamaged. Leaning her head against the cool cement of the bathroom wall, she sighed; then the tears came, and she lost control and wept.

  “Anna, are you all right? I said I need to discuss something with you.”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” She frowned, annoyed, as she splashed cold water on her face. Then she dried off and walked out into the living room to see what Alex had in store for her now.

  Chapter 69

  “I’ve enlisted in the army,” he said, placing his enlistment papers on the table next to his uniform.

  “My God, Alex,” Anna sunk down into a chair. “You should have talked this over with me first.”

  “I know, but now at least I will be doing something to help. I won’t be so useless. I will be fighting against the Germans.”

  “Alex. Come on, you’re not a fighter. My God, you could be killed.”

  “Yes, I realize that, but this is something that I must do. I will be an American soldier.” He smiled at her, a strange, sad smile.

  She could feel the deep furrow between her eyes, but she just nodded. It was no use to argue with him.

  “I will be paid fifty dollars a month. I’ll send you money to live on until I return.”

  Anna was tired, physically, emotionally, and mentally. She was too weak from the loss of blood and the loss of the baby to cope with the bomb Alex had just dropped on her.

  “Your dinner is on the stove. I am going to bed,” Anna said.

  Chapter 70

  When Alex left for boot camp, Anna felt lost and so alone. Except for when Alex had been gone for a week during her hospital stay, and when she’d boarded the St. Louis by herself, Anna had never lived alone.

  She continued to go to school, but classes only lasted a few hours a day, and then she would return to the dark, lonely apartment and wait for a letter from Alex. As she had expected, he corresponded regularly, and she promptly answered. From what his letters told her, Alex was stationed at Camp Pendleton in Southern California. “Besides learning to fight, I am learning to repair vehicles, tanks, planes, and automobiles.” His letters explained how rigorous his basic training was; each morning he was awakened before sunrise and put through an intensive exercise regimen. Alex wrote of his difficult, demanding drill sergeant, and of how he had almost no time to himself. But at least, he said, he did not have very much opportunity to dwell on his depression. At night when he lay down, he was so exhausted that he fell asleep immediately.

  Anna was lonely. She had no real friends. Her school friends were all much younger, and although she asked them to come to dinner, none of them ever came. With no one to cook for but herself, she hardly ate, so her already slender figure grew sickly thin. Staring out the window, reading, or listening to the radio all night was maddening. The days faded into one another. She began falling asleep as she read, sitting in her chair. To Anna it felt as if she’d become an old woman with no place to go and no one to talk to. Hers was not a fulfilling life. Realizing this, Anna decided to go to work.

  The following morning she walked to the corner and bought a newspaper. Then she returned home, put on a pot of coffee, and began to search the want ads. With all of the men going off to war, the jobs had grown more plentiful. There was an opening in a meat packing plant for a secretary. Anna could type, but not very fast, and she had never learned shorthand. She continued to scan the list of jobs that met her limited qualifications. Housekeeper for a family on Long Island, a waitress in a family diner, a line server in a hospital cafeteria, an elevator operator… She took a pen and put a check beside each one. Then, as her eyes moved down the page, she saw an opening for a sales person to work in the women’s dress department at Gimbels department store. Anna loved fashion. This was a job she would enjoy.

  Anna got dressed, and with paper in hand, she headed to the subway. She wore a straight black skirt that came to her mid-calf, and a starched white blouse with a peter pan collar, and a simple, but stylish black wool coat. Her shoulder-length hair was parted on the side and combed neatly into a pageboy.

  Why not start by applying for the job she would most prefer? Anna took the subway to 34th Street, got off, and began walking. Although it was already April, it was still cold outside. Now the snow had begun to melt and turn to gray slush, making way for spring. Anna pulled the collar of her coat tighter around her neck. She knew right where Gimbels was located. Occasionally, she’d come downtown shopping, and as she’d passed the window she couldn’t help but stop and stare at the beautiful window displays.

  “Excuse me,” she said to a young girl straightening a gorgeous pair of black velvet opera-length gloves in the millinery department. “Can you direct me to personnel, please?”

  The woman laid the gloves on a glass table next to a wide-brimmed black hat sporting a red feather plume. “Sure, right down that hall and then to your left, there’s a big sign that says ‘Personnel.’ You can’t miss it.”

  Anna loved the click her low-heeled pumps made as she walked along the white marble floor, clutching her small leather handbag. The overhead lighting cast a glow over everything in the store. When she happened to catch a glimpse of herself in a mirror in passing, she decided that the lighting made her look prettier than she actually was. A good selling tool, she thought. If people looked good in the product, they would buy without hesitation, especially women. Even though the war effort had taken all of the silk and nylon, the stockings of cotton and rayon that were presented were stylish and well made. Each department displayed gorgeous items in the latest fashion, and she couldn’t help but turn look at each one. As she passed the perfume counter, a whiff of a light floral fragrance rose up to greet her. This was where she wanted to spend her afternoons. This store was where she wanted to work.

  Anna entered under the sign that said Personnel Office.

  “May I help you?” A pretty young girl with clear skin as pale as fresh cream sat behind a mahogany desk.

  “I would like to fill out an application for the position that you have advertised in the paper,” Anna said.

  With a smile, the girl handed Anna a clipboard with the application and a pencil. “Just let me know when you are finished, and I will tell Mrs. Parker.”

  “Thank you,” Anna said, and she sat down.

  When Anna finished writing her answers with careful penmanship, the girl took her application and asked Anna to have a seat and wait.

  A few minutes later, a woman entered. Her dark hair was cropped in the latest style; she wore a knee-length dress that fit her slender frame perfectly. She picked up the clipboard at the reception desk, and then extended her manicured hand to Anna.

  “I’m Grace Parker,” she said, “I will be interviewing you for the position.”

  Anna smiled and extended her hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker.”

  “Come into my office.”

  Fifteen minutes later Anna had a job. She could not believe that it had been that easy. Grace Parker said that she liked Anna’s style. She also appreciated Anna’s willingness to work long hours. For now, Anna would put her education on hold. She thought it best to save as much money as she could, and when Alex returned, perhaps they could move out o
f the city and put a down payment on a house.

  She wanted to get home to put her clothes together to decide what she would wear tomorrow, because tomorrow would be her first day of work.

  As soon as she got her first paycheck, she would send Valente the money she owed him.

  Anna stopped at the store to pick up a few grocery items, and then she went home. When she arrived, she checked her mailbox. There was a letter from Camp Pendleton, but the address was not written in Alex’s hand. “Oh my dear God,” she thought as she unlocked the door to her apartment. “What now?”

  Chapter 71

  Although she was a nervous wreck and she wanted to rip the envelope open, Anna forced herself to go to the kitchen to get a knife to open the letter. She had manicured her nails that morning and wanted to keep them looking groomed for work the following day. Grace had made a point of telling her that since she was working in ladies dresses, it was important that her nails be manicured and her hair styled at all times.

  Anna could hardly hold the letter straight to cut the envelope open, her hands were trembling so badly.

  As she carefully put the knife into the top of the envelope, there was a knock on the door. Since Anna almost never had visitors, she jumped. Was it the army, with bad news? She looked at the front of the envelope again. It was definitely not Alex’s handwriting; if not his, then whose? And why had someone else needed to write to her? Was Alex dead?

  Breathe, she thought. Just breathe.

  The knock came again. Anna stood up. She straightened her skirt. Then she opened the door, calmly.

  “Anna Mittleman, right?” It was a woman. She looked to be close to Anna’s age, but unlike Anna’s, her clothing was old fashioned and her hair styled in a bun, like a grandmother. She was heavyset and had thick skin and a ruddy completion.

  “Yes, I am Anna Mittleman.”

  The woman pushed herself inside. “We are neighbors. I was wondering if perhaps you had some onions I could borrow.”

  “No, I’m sorry; I don’t have any right now,” Anna said, looking at the strange woman with annoyance.

  “I was cooking and I ran out.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t help.” Anna still stood at the door holding it open, expecting this odd creature to leave.

  Instead the heavy set woman sat down. “Do you have a cup of coffee?”

  “Not prepared but I can brew a pot, if you would like.” Anna found the woman irksome and wished she would leave.

  “Yes. I would love that. By the way, my name is Wera Krubinsky. My husband was just shipped overseas, to somewhere in the Pacific. I got a letter today, but he said he couldn’t give me the exact location. I’m really sorry to bother you, but I just needed someone to talk to. That’s why I came over. I don’t have no family here. My family is Europe, Poland. And now with my husband gone…”

  Anna nodded feeling sorry for the woman. “My family is in Europe as well.”

  The coffee began to percolate and the smell filled the apartment. Anna looked over at the envelope. She wished this Wera woman would go and leave her alone so that she could see what the letter contained.

  “I’m so worried. My Joey, he was shipped off yesterday. I’m beginning to wish we had never become citizens of this America. Maybe then he would not have felt like he had to go. What if he gets killed? What am I going to do without him? I can’t go back to Poland, not with Hitler there.”

  The more Wera Krubinsky talked about her husband, the more Anna’s anxiety increased. Please, Wera Krubinsky, go home already, Anna thought. Any other time she would have welcomed the company. But now all she wanted was to be alone so she could open that letter.

  “I’m sorry, Wera. I must get ready for school,” Anna said after a half hour had passed.

  “Why don’t you come across the hall for coffee tomorrow?”

  “I am starting a new job. I won’t be home until seven tomorrow night.”

  “Then, I will make supper for the two of us. You’ll come?” Wera smiled. She seemed so happy to have a friend.

  It would be good to share some time and a meal with a friend. Anna smiled and nodded. “Yes, I will come. Thank you for dropping by.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

  “Yes, tomorrow.”

  “Don’t worry; just come over whenever you get home, even if you are late or early. I will be waiting.”

  Anna nodded again. “I will.” She smiled and closed the door.

  God bless that poor woman, Anna thought. She is lonely. She needs a friend. So do I.

  Then Anna sat down and picked up the envelope; then with a deep sigh she opened the letter.

  My dearest Anna,

  I am dictating this to a fellow soldier because I am unable to hold a pen. I was bitten on the index finger of my right hand by a rattlesnake while out on a training mission. I must admit it hurt like hell, but the medic who was in the desert with us had a syringe with an anti-venom serum. So, I am fortunate to be alive, and for the most part, I am all right.

  We train in the hot desert sun all day. It is exhausting. I have seen scorpions, tarantulas, and all varieties of snakes, including the one that bit me.

  I think of you constantly, and I keep your picture in the breast pocket of my uniform, close to my heart. You are my one true love, Anna, my Anna. From the day I first saw you, I knew that we were meant to be together. I think of those days on the ship, and I think of Manny. He loved you too. He was the reason I held back in the beginning. But of course, you know all of this. I only repeat it because now that I am here without you, the past becomes clearer, the memories more tender and distinct, and I miss you so very much.

  Know always that you have my love,

  Your husband, Alex

  A snakebite. She ran her hands through her hair. Well, at least he was not going to be going into combat for a while.

  Chapter 72

  From the first day, Anna loved her job. It was not easy, especially physically. She had to stand on her feet for ten hours wearing high heels. And for the most part, the wealthy customers could be snooty and demanding. However, the first week of her employment, Anna sold the most dresses on the floor. Women simply wanted to look like Anna, to share her sense of style, and to emulate the elegant way that clothing draped across her slender frame.

  There was no doubt that the other saleswomen in her department resented Anna, the new girl who had no problems making a sale. In fact, she made it all look too easy.

  So when the girls in her own department shunned her, Anna made friends with two girls from other departments in the store. There was Alice, who worked in men’s clothing, and Bette, from perfumes. The three took lunch together every day. Alice was dating a customer, although it was strictly forbidden. And she told the others all about him. He was a handsome man born in Texas, she said, and although he never said how he came by it, he had plenty of money to spend. Bette, like Anna, was married to an enlisted man. His name was Paul, and according to Bette, he was terrible at writing letters. The last time she’d heard from him he was on a small island somewhere in the Pacific. He was not at liberty to tell her the name. The three women shared their love of fashion and brought magazines to thumb through on their breaks.

  Although, Anna saved a little of what she earned, and all of what Alex sent her, she still managed to buy a few new dresses, a pair of black high heels, and a tube of creamy crimson lipstick.

  Often Wera and Anna had dinner together. Wera did not have a job, so she insisted upon cooking, and Anna insisted upon paying for most of the food. Although they rarely discussed it, they shared a common bond, a fear of what might be happening to their husbands far away from their homes.

  In July, Gimbels had its annual summer picnic. The company had barbeque grills up in Central Park, while the employees and management challenged each other to friendly games of softball and participated in a three-legged race. The employees voted, and prizes were awarded for outstanding behaviors. One of the men who sold shoes won a trop
hy and five dollars for being the best at telling jokes. Another woman who worked in cosmetics won for creating the prettiest displays. Anna received the prize for best dressed. She giggled like a schoolgirl as she was awarded a small trophy and a ten-dollar gift certificate to the store.

  Even though all seemed well at Gimbels, it wasn’t. Employees had begun to complain of long hours and insufficient pay, which enticed the unions to come pounding at the door. They began by infiltrating the staff, meeting the employees at off hours, and promising a forty-hour workweek and two dollars additional pay.

  Alice was a staunch supporter of the union and she constantly tried to sway Bette and Anna.

  “I work too hard to give my money up for union dues,” Bette said. “I need every penny. I just can’t spare anything right now.”

  “Yes, you’re right we will have to pay union dues, but the extra money the union will get us when they bargain with the management will pay the dues, and then some. We will be much better off than we are now.”

  “What if they fire all of us?” Anna asked.

  “They won’t. They can’t. That’s why we have to make sure that everyone joins. If everyone joins, then they can’t fire any of us or we will all threaten to strike. Then they won’t have anybody to work. If we stand together, we have power. What you don’t realize is that they need us more than we need them. We do the work, we keep this place going.”

  “They could hire outside people,” Bette said.

  “And if they do, and those people cross our picket lines, we will make then sorry. The union calls people like that scabs.”

  “It all sounds good, but I’d hate to lose my job,” Bette said.

  Anna nodded in agreement.

  “We won’t lose our jobs. I promise you that. Now, if it comes to the point where we are going to take a vote, you two have to vote yes for the union. Come on, promise me…”

  Anna and Bette both nodded reluctantly.

  At the end of the day, Anna walked to the subway. Her high heels hurt her feet after standing for ten hours with only a half-hour break for lunch. Perhaps, Alice was right. Maybe the employees did need to stand up for themselves.