We held hands, touch communicating emotions words could never do justice to, and we drew strength from one another’s presence.
I knew, very soon, we would have to make a decision, whether to go on with our bold but increasingly reckless plan, or to surrender ourselves to Henryk’s responsibility at this late stage, with the inevitable return to the care of Wojciech and Izabella.
If everything had seemed so simple just hours before, suddenly it was so very complex. The true nature of Henryk’s prevarication the previous evening was now apparent, and while I still believed that Nicolae and I would find Mama upon arrival at Auschwitz, Elone’s hopes had been cruelly rent asunder.
Images of the depredation of the Jews’ luggage at Warsaw station were slowly beginning to make sense to me, and if the whole picture was as yet unclear it was still plain enough that, for the Jews at least, Auschwitz was intended to be their final resting place. I imagined they would be made to work until, quite literally, they dropped, for such cruel brutality by the Nazis was no longer beyond my ability to conceive.
But now I was faced with the dilemma of determining Elone’s fate, and with hers ours. It would be quite impossible for us to present ourselves to Henryk and hope he would take Elone back with him but allow Nicolae and I to continue on to Auschwitz-Birkenau.
Yet the alternatives were stark: either we all return to the forest home of Wojciech and Izabella and remain there until the war’s final days, or all three of us continue the journey to Auschwitz.
Much as I wanted her to come, much as I wanted, needed, her company, so too I knew that at best she would face only heartbreak when we arrived at our destination. And at worst...
Henryk’s words would not leave my thoughts.
“No Jew leaves Auschwitz alive.”
54.
It was not a decision I could make on her behalf and I resolved to raise this with Elone at the first opportunity, for Henryk would surely need to stop and leave the truck soon, for fuel, food or to meet nature’s call.
But when we next stopped I peered cautiously through the tarpaulin to be greeted by the legend Zwangsarbeitslager Plaszow. Then, without warning, we were driving through the heavily-guarded gates of the Nazi labour camp.
Suddenly we were tense, the Rubicon crossed. To be discovered now would surely mean ours and Henryk’s detention by the SS and if I could hardly bear contemplate the possible consequences for Nicolae and I, the fate Elone faced was quite unthinkable.
I grabbed both children and brought them alongside me, a hand over each mouth, unwilling to trust either child in these dire circumstances. In doing so I drove home to them the importance of their total silence, and they made no protest.
From our hiding place we heard the canvas cover of the wagon pulled back and men shouting orders, some in German, some in Polish. At any moment I expected our huddled bodies to be exposed to the merciless gaze of the SS, and I could not drive from my mind memories of the Nazis spraying the dead and injured with bullets after the train crash those many months before. My whole body trembled and I could feel the children tremor likewise.
Suddenly the wagon floor rocked and I realised laden pallets were being loaded onto the rear of the wagon, pushed back towards us. I held my breath, realising we were about to be crushed by the cargo. As the tarpaulin over us began to push up against our bodies I began to silently pray.
If I had seen too much evil already to believe my prayers should suddenly be answered now, still it was surely a miracle that, even as we were forced against the cabin wall and I was about to cry out and declare our presence, the pallets’ advance stopped and we heard the canvas drag back across the wagon’s roll bars.
As the engine started up we breathed again, struggling from under the tarpaulin into the semi-darkness of the wagon. Just how close we had come to death or discovery was now apparent, for there was hardly room for us to sit up, so little space was left between us and the cabin wall.
Again too noisy to talk we huddled together, three frightened children, desperate for guidance, but in the sure knowledge our options were few. We drove only a short way across the camp before the vehicle stopped again. The engine switched off and I heard Henryk climb from his cabin and call out for someone to sign his documents. From the gap in the tarpaulin I could just see him, some way distant, in conversation with a guard, and knew this was my only opportunity to consult my companion.
“Elone, dear friend, our fate rests with you now. I will surrender us all to Henryk’s tender mercy once we clear this camp, if that is your wish, that you may return to Izabella and Wojciech. They will care for you, Elone. They will look after you as if you were their own, I promise you.”
She took my hand. “And if I did, Anca? What of you? What would you do?”
I answered without hesitation. “I would somehow make my way to Auschwitz still, with Nicolae. I have to, Elone, please try to understand. For all that we now know, still it is there, I am certain, Nicolae and I will learn the fate of our own mother.”
Her fingers clasped tightly around mine. “Izabella and Wojciech are kind people, Anca, but they are not my family, nor could they ever be so.”
She peered at me through the dim light and I could see her eyes glisten. “You are my family now, Anca. You and Nicolae. You are all I have. All I need. I will go with you, wherever you must go.” She leant across and kissed first me, then Nicolae, on the forehead, saying, “My sister. My brother.”
55.
Cramped by the pallets we had no choice but to sit upright for the duration of the journey and I found myself drawn to the gap in the tarpaulin which afforded a view of the passing countryside.
We had travelled only a few minutes beyond Plaszow before encountering a steep hill and were slowed to a walking pace, the engine straining to haul its heavy cargo against the unforgiving slope. Peering out, indifferent to the dull scenery, I realised we were passing lines of Jews, easily identified by their clothes, being marched at gunpoint along the road.
Our speed was such that I could study each one individually and I found myself doing just that, willing one of them to be Chaim or Golda, hope winning a futile battle against reason in my mind.
Of course I recognized no-one and as the anonymous faces continued to pass us despair won out. But as we reached the brow of the hill and began to gather speed once more I was suddenly staring in horror at the scene unfolding just a short distance away.
I looked back the way we had come, unable to believe my senses. Yet there could be no doubt at what I was witnessing. There before me, distant enough not to make out every detail but still close enough to allow no room for mistake, the Jews, as they arrived at a given spot in a field across from the road, were being made to strip at gunpoint and, when completely naked, men, women and children alike, were lined up in neat rows and then mercilessly gunned down with machine-gun fire.
As the truck eased on to a level ground and the strain of the engine relaxed we could hear the guns fire in short bursts and I found myself placing my body across the side of the truck for fear Elone or Nicolae would want to see the cause of the commotion.
I watched helplessly, in morbid fascination, as Jews fell, their naked bodies exploding in a frenzy of blood as bullets ripped them open, to be placidly replaced by their fellows, while behind them others stripped and still more filed into view to take their place. Even as they did so bulldozers pushed the fallen bodies unceremoniously into a pit.
I could not decide which was the more incomprehensible: the slaughter taking place as I watched, adjacent to a public road as if a commonplace act; or the way the Jews continued to march with quiet dignity to their inevitable deaths.
Seconds later the view was obscured by rows of birch trees and very soon we were long past that dreadful place, the images consigned to memory, from where they would not easily depart. As we trundled on through the Polish countryside I could not strike the scene from my mind, and tried to find reason, some logic, some semblance of sanity
that might make sense of what I had just seen.
But such a task was impossible, for in truth there was none.
56.
ARBEIT MACHT FREI.
I knew no German, but would later learn these words, wrought in iron above the entrance, stated optimistically ‘work sets you free’. These black gates, the pallid grey soil and a nauseating smell the like of which I had never encountered before, were my first impressions of Auschwitz-Birkenau as we reached our final destination.
The truck pulled up a little beyond the main gate and amidst loud exchanges in Polish and German I managed to establish that Henryk was being taken to the administrative quarters. In the silence that ensued I guessed we were alone. There was not a moment to lose, for Henryk and the guard might return at any time, and we edged our way hesitantly around the pallets to the rear of the truck.
I dropped myself to the floor and reaching up plucked first Nicolae then Elone from the tail board and as one we slipped beneath the truck’s undercarriage, there to study our terrain and judge our next move. The children, sensing the parlous nature of our circumstance, performed magnificently, murmuring not a word, each child responsive to my every unstated gesture.
There was a hut a short way distant, raised from the ground to protect against damp and we raced for it across grey mud rutted by heavy vehicles. Stooping low for fear of attracting attention, we dived as one beneath its shadow.
As our heart beats slowed and we found our breath again, the noisome empyreuma that hung over us violently assaulted our nostrils. It clung to our clothes, permeating every nook and cranny of the complex, leaving no escape from its presence.
At first we, all of us, heaved at its contractions and, though we soon became accustomed to its presence at Auschwitz, it was a uniquely cloying, putrescent stench that would find an indelible imprint in our memories.
Nor was it the only bizarre feature about this place, for though the sky was blue in the distance the air around us, even beneath the hut under which we sheltered, was filled with a mixture of ash, cinder and ecru flakes which I quickly realised were responsible for the strange colour of the soil.
Nicolae whispered, “Anca, I am hungry,” and I was reminded, for it was so easy to forget, that he was a child of just six years, void of even the limited understanding Elone and I enjoyed.
Elone said quietly, “It will be some time before Anca can get us anything to eat, Nicolae, so please be patient. Try to rest now, to sleep, then when darkness falls we can search for food.”
“And for Mama too, right, Anca? And for Mama too?”
I leant across and kissed his forehead. “We will try, little one, I promise you we will try.”
He seemed reassured by this show of confidence, for he stretched out beside me on the hard ground and, slipping his hand into Elone’s, closed his eyes, sleep quickly consuming his fatigued body. How I envied this ability to succumb to sleep almost at will, for it was by far the best way to ease the pain. I smiled at Elone and she smiled back.
When she was sure Nicolae was quite asleep she whispered, “Anca, do you really believe you will find your mother here?”
It was a question I would have preferred to avoid. Thus proffered I had no choice but to consider a response.
I rolled across and lay against her, wrapping one arm around her shoulder, my other hand gently stroking Nicolae’s hair. Somehow, here in the very heart of Auschwitz, hiding like fugitives beneath a wooden hut on pain of death were we to be discovered, I felt secure and confident.
Looking deep into Elone’s eyes I said, “We can only hope, Elone, for the future is unknowable. But consider this. If you are now my sister and I yours, then Mama is mother to all three of us. If we should find her then, I promise you Elone, she will be your mother too.”
Elone clutched my hand tightly. “Elone Pasuclata,” she said and smiled. “Yes, I like that. I like that very much.”
I reached to my collar and retrieved the necklace and amulet Raisa had presented me, placing it over Elone’s head.
“This was given me by my best friend, Raisa, that I might remember her by it. I would like you to wear it for me, Elone, as my new sister.”
Elone took the amulet in her tiny hand. “I will treasure it, Anca, until the day you and Raisa meet again, when I shall return it to her for you.”
And so saying she rolled tight against me, and we lay quiet an untold time.
57.
We were soon benighted, dusk prematurely advanced by the strange cloud of fumes that hung over the camp. The generators roared and the spotlights of the guard towers dissected the complex into incandescent ranges delineated by sharp, deep shadows.
I knew our time had come.
I mustered the children and, stressing the need for absolute silence and supreme caution, led them to the very edge of our shelter, where we stopped, hesitant, the younger ones awaiting my instruction.
I had no concept of direction, no plan beyond finding a hiding place more secure, and acted accordingly. We crept into the dark shadows and edged our way, hardly daring to breathe, to the end of the hut, there to purchase a better view of the camp’s layout.
It was obvious enough we should move away from the perimeter gates, but barbed wire fences loomed in all directions, intermittently patrolled by armed guards. The perimeter fences were still more securely policed, with fierce dogs as well as soldiers, while searchlights swept the outer boundary incessantly.
The inner compounds were clearly less well guarded and I knew it was in this direction we should head. Though I could see no evidence of a passage through the fences I knew there must be one and cautiously led the children as far as I dared, fearing at any minute a heavy hand on my shoulder or even, though I struggled hard to keep the thought at bay, a bullet in my back.
But we were to prove blessed, for neither event transpired and, over the course of several hours, we managed to steal our way further into the camp, running from shadow to shadow, stopping each time to regain our breath and restore our composure.
Our task was made all the easier for that the camp’s workers were kept in barracks at night, and the few guards we did encounter were more concerned with their own private preoccupations than searching the shadows for intruders. All security was geared to the opposite purpose, to prevent anyone leaving. An observation that left me quietly uneasy, reinforcing my belief that, whatever danger we might face, there could be no turning back.
Just how far we had smuggled ourselves onto the site, or what function the buildings against which we hid might have I could only guess, but already it was becoming clear Auschwitz-Birkenau was a complex of immense proportions, stretching on and on whichever way one looked, though still the true scale of the camp, like the enormity of its purpose, had yet to be realised.
Many of the buildings were raised constructions, affording useful hiding places for us, and occasionally, as we hid beneath one, we could hear German voices, laughing and joking as they partook their evening repast. The smell of hot food managed to penetrate our nostrils even over the fetid, heavy atmosphere that hung all around us, screening the sky, obscuring a bicephalous moon.
Inevitably Nicolae was reminded of his hunger and I was thankful once again for Elone’s ability to occupy my little brother’s attention.
From our hiding place beneath one such hut I became aware of a strange glow on the horizon, which I concluded must be a furnace, perhaps of an iron foundry or like industry.
While hardly anticipating Mama would be employed in such an operation this was the first suggestion of where the camp’s workers might be found, and that it appeared to be operating through the night was all the more encouraging, raising the hope we might be able to approach someone under cover of darkness and at least establish the location of the women’s quarters.
This empyreal glow thus became our goal and we began a slow, tortuous progress towards it. As ever the children were stoic, Elone indomitable of spirit, comforting Nicolae when his determinat
ion flagged.
Several times we came close to discovery, for many were the occasions when we had to race across open areas where no shadows reached, and even to smuggle ourselves through guarded gates as we crossed from one compound to the next. Fortunately the guards seemed more concerned with huddling together to share a cigarette than to perform their duties, secure in the presumption that no-one, least of all three children, would even then be making their way across the camp.
As we continued the glowing sky loomed ever closer until we could at last see the chimneys from which the candescence emerged, and with it the fetid fumes and filth-laden, ashen smog that descended everywhere, coating everything, permeating our clothes to our very skin.
So obsessed had we been in pursuit of the furnaces that time had passed unnoticed. But as dawn began to break we slipped beneath the floor of a raised hut for a final time that night. In hushed whispers I advised the children it would be necessary to remain here through the day, until night fell once more.
Elone received this news bravely, but for Nicolae the strain was too much and he began to sob, no longer able to contain his emotions, no longer able to constrain his physical needs. He, we all, were tired, hungry and spiritually drained and I knew that lassitude would be our undoing, if I could not soon make good our plight. For now, however, all I could do was offer quiet comfort.
As I turned to do so I found Elone once more had assumed this role and it sunk home to me now that this young girl, though no relative by blood, was far the better parent to my little brother, for he clung to her now as he had once, but no longer, clung to me, and it became clear he treasured her comforts more than mine.
For an instant I felt jealousy impinge sharp on my heart, but I banished the emotion with some effort, knowing I could not fulfil the role of mother to Nicolae and at the same time lead us all to ultimate salvation.
Anca's Story--a novel of the Holocaust Page 16
