“How?” Peter asked. “You don’t have control over the military units. We can’t make the battle go faster. They’re telling you to fix the problem, but they’ve taken all your power away.”
“Not everything,” said Klaus, musing. “We have to think about these resistance fighters. Where are they weak?”
“We’ve identified several of their bunkers,” Peter said. “But we don’t have the weapons to attack them. That’s what Stroop is here for.”
“The forces under our control are not meant for combat,” said Klaus. “That’s not what I meant by weakness. What would make these men and women put down their arms?”
“I don’t know,” said Peter. “They don’t have anything left to lose, do they?”
“That’s it,” said Klaus, snapping his fingers. “That’s the key.”
“What do you mean?” Peter asked.
“Hurry up,” said Klaus, “let’s get back to the office. I’ll explain on the way . . .”
An hour later Peter interrupted Klaus, who was poring over a map of the ghetto in his office.
“The informer is here,” he said.
Klaus looked up and nodded. In this context, there was only one informer. “Bring them in,” he said.
Peter led the informer in and gestured to a seat in front of Klaus.
“Now,” Klaus said, “I need to know how I get to egota.”
“I’ve never heard of egota.”
“Don’t lie to me,” said Klaus. “I know you’ve been withholding information.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“In order to stop the resistance, I need to find out where egota has hidden all of these children in Aryan Warsaw.” He leaned forward. “You know how to lead me to them, don’t you?”
The informer hesitated. “What difference would that make? Most of their parents are dead. They won’t stop fighting just because you uncover another few thousand Jews who they aren’t related to.”
“I disagree.” Klaus hoped he was right, and the informer was wrong. Otherwise, he was already doomed. “You let me worry about what will happen when we apprehend them. You just tell me how to get to them.”
“I’m not certain I know.”
“Like I said, don’t lie to me. I want all your information and I want it now.”
The informer was quiet for a long time.
“I guess you’re not going to tell me. Well, in that case, I’ll have to adopt more direct methods. Peter!” he yelled, calling for his assistant.
“Wait!” said the informer. “I do have one name.”
“That’s a Jew,” Klaus said when he heard the suggestion. “I don’t want Jews. I want Poles.”
“That name will lead you to egota.”
“You better be correct.”
“I’ll bet my life on it.”
Klaus leaned forward. “You just did.”
Chapter 26
A Desperate Plan
April 1943
Warsaw Ghetto, Poland
Irena stood across the street from the ghetto wall. She could see the smoke billowing up from several directions. In the distance she could hear the staccato barking of machine gun fire. She breathed the acrid smell of gunpowder. As she held her vigil, she kept looking up and down the street. There were plenty of bystanders, spectators who’d come down to gawk at the last gasp of the Jews. However, it wasn’t entirely safe here. German soldiers periodically accosted pedestrians, demanding their papers and what their business was this close to the wall. They even made some arrests.
Irena desperately wanted to get inside the ghetto. She’d been unable to enter the Jewish Quarter since the fighting began, a few days ago. She’d attempted on the second day to walk inside, but she’d been stopped at the gate. She showed her documents, but the guard shook his head. She’d threatened. She’d tried other gates, but the answer was the same: The old passes were no longer valid. The ghetto was sealed, permanently it seemed. There was nothing she could do. At least by conventional means.
She returned to the office. Maria was there, as was Jan. She huddled up with them in Maria’s office. She couldn’t take her eyes off the stack of boxes. The paperwork meant for five hundred children who they’d intended to remove from the ghetto less than a week ago. Now, these children were stranded, perhaps forever, as were her friend Ala and Ala’s daughter, Rami. After months of success Irena felt the old failure haunting her again. Would she lose these five hundred as she’d lost Dr. Korczak’s orphans? She didn’t think she could bear another failure of that magnitude. There had to be something they could do.
“Why can’t we still use the trucks?” Jan asked, as they debated alternative rescue plans. “We could still overwhelm a gate easy enough, even if the Germans have had some reinforcements.”
“That’s not the problem,” said Maria. “Those bastards have tanks in the ghetto now. Once they had word a rescue was underway, they’d turn those monsters on us, and carve us up like a Christmas feast.”
“She’s right,” said Irena. “The trucks were our best option for a mass breakout, but we can’t use them now. Not until the Germans remove the tanks, at least.”
“That might never happen,” said Jan.
“Agreed. So, it’s not an option. We’re going to have to look at getting the kids out in smaller numbers.”
“I don’t think there’s time,” said Maria.
“I don’t mean in waves,” said Irena. “I mean all at once, but fragmented. Smaller teams, with a set number of children, escaping in different directions to designated points.”
Jan whistled. “That’s going to take a lot of coordination and there’s not much time to make it happen.”
Irena nodded. “We’ll need fifty guides through the sewers. Ten kids to each.”
“Where are you going to find fifty guides?” asked Maria. “Will you grow them in your garden?”
“The Jewish resistance can furnish them,” she said.
Maria shook her head. “They’re fighting for their lives. You’ll never convince them to set aside operations—even for some children. They’re trying to keep fifty thousand people alive, not five hundred.”
Maria was right. She’d counted on the cooperation of the Jews, but right now that was impossible. “What about egota?” she asked.
“We don’t have a half dozen people qualified to get through those sewers into the ghetto. It’s not possible.”
“What if those few could train others?” asked Irena. “Couldn’t we spend a day or two getting more Poles acclimated to the routes?”
“They’ll never agree to it,” said Maria. “Too fast, and too risky.”
“Let’s go and find out,” said Irena.
A few hours later she received the same answer from Julian. “That’s not possible,” he said.
“Why not?” Irena responded. “If they have a day to learn and another day to practice, they’d be ready.”
“Have you been down there?” Julian asked.
Irena shook her head.
“There is an endless maze of passages. It takes weeks to learn even a couple of them. Worse, the Germans have booby-trapped the main routes, and they’re pumping poison gas down inside. They have patrols too. There’s no way we can send a bunch of newly trained men and women down there. Half won’t make it into the ghetto, and the other half will be caught on the way out. I won’t be responsible for losing fifty of my people.”
“And what will happen to those five hundred children if we save fifty of your people?” she demanded. He didn’t answer. “They’ll die,” she said. “Can you live with that? We’ve sat back while the Germans exterminated half a million Jews. There aren’t many left. We have a chance to save a few of them. But we don’t have long. The Germans will conquer the ghetto any day now. Our friends are fighting bravely but they’ve hardly any arms or ammunition. And they can’t fight an army of professional soldiers with tanks. We have to do something, and we have to do it now!”
Julian he
sitated. “I’ll have to run this by the council. You want fifty of our fighters involved in this suicide mission. This is bigger than me.”
“I understand. How soon can you have an answer for me?”
“We have a meeting tonight.” It would mean another day of delay, but Irena knew there was nothing she could do about it. She spent a long and anxious afternoon at the office, trying to focus on her paperwork. Maria stopped by periodically, trying to lend a supporting hand. Irena went home and spent the evening with her mother, trying to make small talk and wind the long hours down. As she was getting ready for bed there was a knock at her door. She opened it to a young man. “Your plan is approved,” he said. “Meet Julian tomorrow at headquarters to begin operations.”
* * *
“Stop!” the man whispered. They were in almost total darkness. Irena had her hand on the leader’s shoulder. She felt a firm grip behind her neck. Behind her, she heard gagging and someone retched into the foul liquid that lapped at her waist. Another person vomited, and another.
“Pull yourselves together,” their leader, Moczar, demanded in a quiet but harsh tone. “I need absolute silence.”
Irena saw a flicker of light as their guide turned on his flashlight. They were at an intersection of two sewer lines. Moczar whipped the light to his right and his left. Satisfied there were no Germans waiting to ambush them in the side passages, he moved the light up and down the walls of the sewer. Irena looked up. The ceiling here was barely above her head. She could easily reach out and touch the slimy stone above her. The walls on either side of her were close, with barely room for the party to squeeze through in single file. She fought down a fit of panic as everything seemed to close in on her.
“There!” Moczar said, pointing.
Irena looked along the line of his finger. She saw nothing at first and then realized there was a thin wire stretched about halfway between the waterline and the ceiling. He ran the light toward the wall and she saw that the wire was connected to a grenade on both sides, the ends of the wire wrapped around the pins. “We have to move slowly, one at a time. Don’t touch the wire! Even a tremor and it might pull loose.”
“Can’t we go back?” asked Irena.
Moczar turned, staring at her for a moment. “Do you want to find a passage in, or don’t you?”
“I do,” she said, feeling ashamed. She’d never expected this. The stench was unbearable. Every moment she fought back the nausea. The thick sewage lapped at her stomach and her chest. They’d seen rats and heard other ominous noises in the darkness. She’d insisted on coming on this training exercise. She wanted to see how the preparations were coming along and, perhaps more importantly, she didn’t want to go into the sewers for the first time during the upcoming operation. For she had decided, against Julian’s wishes, to personally accompany the Polish men and women involved in the operation.
A few hours later and they were back in Aryan Warsaw. They had reached the ghetto, although they did not attempt to open one of the coverings and reach the street level. Irena was relieved to step back out onto the street, and even more so when she was able to bathe and wipe away the filth she’d walked through for hours.
Julian found her as she was recovering. He held his nose in an exaggerated expression of disgust, although she was now clean and had changed clothes. He laughed.
“Are you sure you want to go back in there?” he asked.
She wasn’t, but she was determined she would see it through. She nodded.
He shook his head. “You’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met, Irena.”
“When are we leaving?” she asked.
“Tonight. After curfew.”
“Are they ready for us?”
He nodded. “They’ve sent one of their best out to help us. All they could spare. You know her.”
Just then Sasha came around the corner. Irena smiled as the young woman flew into her arms.
“You’re coming with us?” Irena asked.
Sasha nodded, a grin covering her entire face. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Besides, they’ve assigned me to you.”
“What?”
“egota and our organization decided together. You’re too important to risk. I’m taking you in and out again. We’ll get Rami and Ala. The Poles will get the rest.”
Irena wanted to protest. She didn’t want special treatment, but she admitted to herself she was glad. Sasha was an expert. She’d been smuggling goods and people back and forth in the sewers for several years now. If anyone could bring her in and back again, it would be Sasha. “I’m glad,” she said finally.
“I thought that was going to be harder,” said Julian.
“What would be?”
“Getting you to agree. I was expecting an argument—and since I haven’t won one of those with you yet, I had feared the worst.”
Irena laughed. “I’m not that difficult.”
“You’re every bit that difficult,” said Julian, smiling. “But that’s what makes you effective.”
The sun was already sinking behind the buildings and the resistance members sat around headquarters, going through maps they had drawn of the routes, taking a little cold cheese and bread. The room was quiet, each person alone with their thoughts as they prepared mentally for the dangerous operation.
Finally, it was time. Sasha found Irena, who was sitting in a corner, eyes closed, thinking about entering the sewers again. “It’s time,” the young woman said.
Irena nodded and accepted a hand as Sasha pulled her to her feet. She looked up into the smuggler’s eyes, smiling. “I know we’re going to make it tonight,” she said.
“Just another trip under the wall,” said Sasha. Her face grew grave. “Stay close to me,” she said. “No matter what.”
“I will.”
They stepped into the darkness, heading on foot toward the ghetto. The resistance fighters spread out, moving in groups of two or three, some taking turns down streets to their right and left as they moved away from the headquarters. This was part of the plan. If someone had the misfortune of coming across a German patrol, the entire operation would not be compromised. Irena followed Sasha as she dashed down a side street, moving a few blocks away from the group and then turning again to her left and back toward the ghetto.
“How close will we get before we enter the sewers?” Irena whispered.
“We can’t risk closer than three blocks,” Sasha responded. “Too many eyes on the nearer streets.”
“Do you know the route we’re using?” Irena asked.
Sasha nodded. “I’ve been down it many times.”
They traveled for another half hour in silence. Irena had a difficult time keeping up with Sasha. She was still young, a little over thirty, but Sasha was sixteen and used to physical endurance. Fortunately, her friend seemed aware of the situation, and she slowed down periodically to allow Irena to catch up.
She felt the excitement course through her as they neared the ghetto. She’d planned the removal of these children for weeks now. She’d thought the operation was hopeless after the fighting started, but she’d persisted and now all the moving parts were coming together. If she succeeded, they would take another five hundred children out of the ghetto tonight. She felt in a small way this would help make up for the terrible failure at the orphanage. Best of all, she would be bringing Ala and Rami out. Her friend had done enough. More than almost anyone. She deserved to rest, to survive the war and with luck, to be reunited with her husband, who had spent the war outside of Warsaw with his resistance group.
Sasha stopped them abruptly as they reached the corner of a street. She looked up and down the side street and then led Irena to the right. Halfway down the block she angled out from the sidewalk and approached a manhole cover that lay in the middle of the street. She stopped over it and retrieved a small metal tool from her pocket. Looking up and down the road again, she inserted a hook fashioned on the end into one of the holes in the cover. She stepped back an
d pulled, grunting for a moment before the cover pulled loose on one end. She kept tugging until the entire edge was over the pavement, and she rotated, pulling the cover to the side. The metal clanged loudly, and Irena started, looking around and expecting lights in windows and heads looking out. But nobody seemed to have heard anything.
“I’m going down,” said Sasha. “Cover me.”
Irena kept watch while Sasha climbed the iron rungs fastened in the concrete below the street level. She stepped carefully down, turning on a flashlight and examining the lower steps for any wires or other booby traps the Germans might have placed there. “It’s clear,” she whispered. “Let’s go.” Sasha descended the rest of the way down and then lowered herself onto a ledge next to the river of sewage. Irena followed her, relieved to see that this route, at least at this point in their journey, did not require her to wade through the foul liquid itself.
The journey into the ghetto lasted about two hours. The entire time Irena fought back the bile in her throat. She kept her focus on Sasha in front of her, barely perceptible in the darkness. Her guide turned this way and that, seemingly at random, but she never hesitated. Irena was impressed by Sasha’s knowledge and bravery. She was a true hero of the ghetto.
Finally, she stopped underneath a circular well and put her hands to the ladder leading out. “We have to go quickly and quietly,” she whispered. “When we get to the top, do not hesitate. Stay low and follow me immediately.”
Irena nodded and Sasha moved forward, climbing the steps rapidly. She followed her guide, not as nimbly. Sasha reached up with both hands and pushed as hard as she could. The cover would not move, and Irena was afraid for a moment that she would not be able to open it. She heard the metal wrench and the left side of the cover jerked up. She rotated and pushed, sliding the cover out onto the street. “Now!” she whispered.
Sasha moved quickly. Irena followed as fast as she could. She climbed out of the manhole and onto the street. She looked around, shocked at the piles of rubble and the fires illuminating the night. Whole blocks were destroyed around her. “Get down!” Sasha shouted. Irena bent down low and waited anxiously for Sasha to move the cover back into place. “This way,” she said, scuffling forward low and into one of the buildings across the street that was still partially intact.
Irena's War Page 27
