Finally night fell and the hour arrived. It was decided that they would all meet on the platform, but would pretend to be strangers.
The train’s loud rumble sounded like a tornado as it broke the silence of the night. At fourteen minutes after nine it came to a jolting halt in the Warsaw station. The partisans grew jittery with anticipation as they waited for the signal from the Polish leader to attack. Unsuspecting of any foul play, the SS guards strutted about the train station, joking and flirting with the local girls, offering to buy them beer from the vendor. The Polish leader gave the signal and then, as was planned, with a bird call coming from one of the Sinti that could never be detected as unauthentic, the ambush began. The element of surprise worked, leaving the SS confused as the ratta-tat-tat of gunfire dropped men where they had stood, laughing, only moments before. Quickly the plan went into effect. Each group began to carry out its designated task, and before the Nazis realized what was taking place, the prisoners were freed and armed, while most of the guards had been killed. The few who remained alive ran for their lives, and the art was easily confiscated. There was no time to linger. Once the mission was accomplished, the men retreated out of the city limits.
Back in the forest, the mission was proclaimed a success; only three freedom fighters had been lost, and they had taken down a whole train of SS guards. The released prisoners gratefully followed them and now stood at their sides, ready to take up the cause themselves.
“We will all return to our homes. This has been a good night,” the leader of the Polish Underground said.
Bottles of whiskey that had been purchased earlier that day and hidden were now raised, while freedom and death to the Third Reich were toasted.
Christian had fought bravely; he’d moved quickly to eliminate the guards. Because he knew it was a imperative to preserve bullets, for the first time he’d killed a man with a knife. It had been difficult; he’d felt the man’s breath on his face as he’d died. And the death of any man, even a Nazi, at his hand, troubled Christian. The others were excited about the victory, but Christian was glad it was over with. Ion noted with disappointment that his parents were not among the prisoners that they’d freed. Christian had hoped that he would be able to bring Nadya’s family home to her. When he saw the young boys lying dead, it haunted him. Even though they were the enemy and he knew it must be done, Christian though it such a waste of life. Ion had lost too much to the Nazis; he was filled with anger, and consequently felt no pity for the death of the young guards.
Chapter 55
Lydia saw Nadya’s footsteps in the muddy earth, but she could not catch up with her as Nadya raced in frantic search of Hanzi.
Nadya knew it was far too close to the road to risk calling out Hanzi’s name. One could never be sure who traveled along the open road. From the protection of the trees, she looked out to the street and then she saw something that made her blood run cold.
Chapter 56
The men rode quietly on horseback through the night. They were headed back home to their respective camps. As much as they wanted to brag in excitement at the success of their mission, they knew it was best to stay silent. Even in the woods, danger could be lurking. The art work was hidden in a safe house in Warsaw, so they were not burdened by carrying it back through the forest. It would be sold directly from the house, and the money would be sent to a Swiss bank.
Along the way, as each group turned off in different directions to return home, they separated with hugs and well wishes to the each other.
It had been two days that Christian had been away from Nadya, and he was overwhelmed with longing. When he was forced to spend even an hour away from her, it seemed like a lifetime. And he knew how happy she would be when she saw him return safely, with Ion at his side. For Christian, they could not arrive back at the gypsy camp soon enough.
Once Ion’s group turned off the path on their way home, because of the loss of two of their men, there were spare horses, so he and Christian each rode alone. At dawn a gentle rain trickled from the sky, sending warm pin pricks of water down to the earth. Then God painted the morning sky in soft muted shades of pink and purple against the sunrise. “It’s a good omen; do you see that?” Ion pointed as Christian looked up to see the rainbow.
“It is a good omen. It is like tears of joy coming down from the sky and filling it with brilliant color. Maybe it means that the war will be over soon,” Ion said.
“Perhaps… I truly hope so,” Christian said. “I’ve had enough. And God knows your sister would like to see this end.”
“We all hope so. Then, maybe I can get married too, yes? That would be nice, a soft and gentle wife to warm my bed and cook my food.”
“That would be very good. I cannot tell you because there just are not enough words, how happy I am to be married and to have found such a perfect woman.”
“My sister, perfect…ha!” Ion laughed.
“Perfect for me…and that is what you need my brother. No one on this earth is perfect… You must find a woman who is perfect for you.”
“I hope to; it is my dream…my goal…when this is all over,” Ion said.
“Yes…when this is all over.”
Chapter 57
As Nadya gazed out to the road from her hiding place in the forest, she saw Lil lying on the ground. Hanzi had flung himself across the body of his beloved dog. From where Nadya stood she heard Hanzi’s cries of pain and anguish. Without thinking of the danger she ran out into the open…to the side of the road.
“Hanzi what happened? Are you all right?” Nadya asked.
Screaming and wailing with sorrow, he did not answer as Nadya rushed up to him. The dog had been shot, that much she could see. Blood pooled everywhere, and Hanzi was covered in it. Not sure how or why this had occurred, she knew that she must grab the boy and run, for whoever had done this could quite possibly still be somewhere in the vicinity. With cold, trembling hands Nadya grabbed Hanzi’s shirt, trying to lift him, but he’d grown too heavy for her. And before she knew it, a group of five SS officers came traipsing out of the woods on the other side of the road. They carried rifles and newly-killed game. It was apparent that they had been out hunting.
“Lovely afternoon, Frauline,” they taunted. “You look like a gypsy to me. Does she not?” One of the men smiled slyly, “and dare I ask who this boy is, it looks to me like we have a mentally deficient child here? Is he yours?”
Nadya did not answer. Pulling harder at Hanzi, she could not believe the strength of the child as he held fast to his dead pet.
Finally Nadya pulled Hanzi free, and taking his hand, she tried to run back to the safety of the forest. One of the Nazi officers stopped her by grabbing her shoulder roughly.
“Where are you going is such a hurry?” He shook his head at her. “Tsk, tsk…little lady, we’ve only just met. You can’t leave so quickly.” He held on to her as another of the officers, a dark-haired man of barely five feet, six inches tall, pointed his gun in her face.
Nadya’s heart pounded and a lump grew in her throat. Standing her ground now, she knew that if she tried to get back to camp they would follow her, and then she would endanger the entire group. She glared with defiance into their eyes. She would not let them know how afraid she was. Hanzi looked down at Lil, and once again he fell back onto the dog and began to howl. A slender, lofty officer with perfectly trimmed graying hair smiled at her as took a shiny black pistol from his pocket, and with one shot to the head, he killed Hanzi. Unnerved, Nadya stood staring in disbelief. Her hand went to her mouth; she covered it to prevent herself from screaming. But even though her voice was silent, her heart cried out for Christian as she stood in peril, surrounded by the SS.
‘Well, that certainly rids us of that distracting noise, doesn’t it?” The Officer smiled as he put his pistol away.
Nadya wanted to cry. The tears threatened to come, but she fought them. She would not let these animals see how they had hurt her. “Hanzi,” she whispered beneath her b
reath. Before she could say another word, the man with the gray hair nodded to two younger SS men, who grabbed each of her arms and dragged her into their waiting black automobile. Throwing her thoughtlessly, like an old coat, into the back, they locked the doors and began to drive. Just as the Nazis were taking Nadya away, Lydia came upon the scene. She stood frozen, not knowing what to do as she witnessed Nadya being forced into the car by the Nazis. From where she stood, she could not tell who or what was on the ground, but she did not dare venture out of the woods to find out. Lydia ran back to camp and alerted several of the men, who with arms and ammunition, came back to the scene to discover the bodies of the child and his dog. Dread of what the future might bring came over the men. They had been left behind to guard the women, and Nadya was to be their most important charge. They knew that Christian would be livid when he discovered his wife had been taken by the SS.
Chapter 58
Terrified, Nadya sat in the back of an oversized black automobile. For months she had prayed that she would never see the camps, and now she knew that she was on her way to one, or to a prison like one where they had been torturing Christian when she first went to him. Perhaps, she thought, she might see her parents again at the camp, and for a moment she allowed the thought to comfort her. Then she was brought back to reality by the harsh guttural German voices of the men. Two of them sat in the back, looking at her with lust, and she worried what else they might have planned for her. She had never ridden in a car before, and the motion made her sick, afraid she might vomit. Feeling dizzy, she held her head and tried not to look out the window as the world flashed past her too quickly. First Ion, and then Christian, had protected and sheltered her, and so until now she had only heard of the SS and their cruelty. She’d never seen it firsthand, never experienced it. In her wildest dreams, she could not imagine any man actually forcing himself on her, but now looking at these two and realizing they had absolute power over her, she shuddered. Christian’s face appeared in her mind, bringing her strength; how she longed for him. If he survived the job he had just undertaken, he would surely come looking for her. Then, although she tried to block them, her thoughts turned to Hanzi; that precious, loving little boy and his dog were both dead. She swallowed hard, fighting to hold back the tears. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her misery. Nadya considered fighting her captors, but she knew that she was a small and not very strong girl, and against five muscular SS officers she would only be gravely injured and punished severely for her resistance.
By noon that day they arrived at the Nazi Headquarters, a large building with many rooms. Nadya, had never been in such a place before, and as she was pushed along she saw that each of the rooms was occupied with men. Many wore black uniforms with death heads on the breasts and shiny black high boots. Others were clad in gray or street clothes. There were women as well; some sitting in front of typewriters, wearing skirts and blouses, their mouths stained with lipstick. Large red flags with black swastikas loomed from the ceiling, like dark omens above her as Nadya was led in to a very ornate office. Behind the desk, she saw a picture she had seen once before, and she knew it was a painting of Adolph Hitler. The key turned in the door, locking her in, and she realized she was a prisoner. Nadya had no other option, so she waited to see what they planned to do with her as the sweat dripped down her back and into her long black hair.
After several hours, a bald, meaty man, red-faced from the love of alcohol walked in. He surveyed the situation. Nadya studied him, searching for some semblance of humanity.
“So you’re a gypsy; I think they call you Roma?”
“Yes.”
“What tribe? You see, I know a lot about your people. I am a very good friend of Dr. Mengele’s. He is the chief doctor at Auschwitz, and he just loves gypsies, so he talks about your people much of the time when I visit. Do you know that he gives all of the gypsy children candy? They call him ‘uncle.’” His face broke into a half-smile as he paced around her. “Why, last time I spoke with him he said that he has a gypsy orchestra that plays violin music just for him. Can you imagine?”
She wanted so badly to believe him, to dismiss all that she knew of the Nazi cruelty from her mind, to believe he might treat her with kindness. “I am of the Sinti tribe,” Nadya said.
“I see….well… You’re much too pretty to be sent off to Auschwitz…which means of course that this is your lucky day, Frauline,” the Nazi said as he winked at her.
Something in the way all of these men spoke was the same, and it gave her chills.
“However, before I send you to your final destination, it would please me greatly for you to meet Dr. Mengele. I know he will have something very special planned for you.”
Was he enjoying her nervousness? What was it about these people that made them so heartless? Never had she met people like them; it was true that some of the gypsies had hot tempers, but they had hearts and they had emotions. It was the intentional cruelty that she found so different and so distressing, the way they toyed with her like she was an insect and they were pulling off her legs one at a time, watching her shiver in fright and anticipation of the next blow. If only she had her husband’s incredible strength, she could hide her fears and never give them the pleasure of watching her fall apart, but as the clock ticked and the horror increased, she felt herself losing the battle. As she stared down at her hands she saw the gold band Christian had given her. When she was sure the officer would not see, she slipped the ring off her finger and hid it under her tongue so they would not take it away from her. She felt the strangeness of the metal in her mouth, but there was comfort in knowing that even if they killed her, she would still have this small bit Christian with her to help her endure whatever they might have in store.
Chapter 59
It was the in afternoon following Nadya’s abduction that Ion, Christian and the rest of the men returned to camp. Tired and hungry, each of them went quietly to their respective wagons to rest. Christian dismounted his horse with a single jump and requested one of the younger boys to come and care for the animal. Then he ran to find Nadya. First he looked inside their vurdun, but did not see either his wife or the child. Next he checked the common circle where most of the food was prepared; there was still no trace of her. Christian decided that she had probably taken the boy to go and see the old widow, so he made his way to her wagon. When he arrived, he found Kizzy with a red-eyed, tear-stained face, staring blankly out the window above her bed. She had a long black cloth covering her mirror; he eyed the woman with strong concern.
“What’s wrong? What’s going on here?”
“Oh, son, while you were gone something so terrible has happened,” Kizzy said wringing the fabric of her blanket in her gnarled fingers.
Christian wanted to shake her. She spoke so slowly, and he felt as if he might go mad before she explained. “Go on tell me what happened,” he said, forcing himself to be patient.
Kizzy looked at him with dark, foreboding eyes. The deep lines etched into her copper skin seemed to be even more prominent than he remembered.
“While you were gone, the child, Hanzi, ran out to the street. The Nazis saw him and killed him…the puppy too.”
“Nadya? Where is Nadya.” Christian was hollering he could not control himself.
“The Nazis took Nadya away in their big black motorcar. Nobody knows where she is or even if she is still alive. We think maybe they took her to a camp, but we don’t know which one.”
“Do you know who the Nazi’s were? Were they Gestapo or SS? Did anyone see them?”
“It was the Nazis with the black clothes; the ones with the hats with the skulls on them. Lydia saw it happen, but she couldn’t help Nadya; she was too afraid, so she stayed hidden. It happened like this: Nadya had gone out looking for Hanzi. He was chasing the dog, and from what I understand, when the Nazis saw Hanzi, they shot him. Nadya must have seen them kill the boy, and I guess she tried to stop them. I don’t know if that is for sure what happene
d. I can only guess. But now they have her and she is gone forever.” Burying her face in her hands, Kizzy began to wail.
Christian could not bear to stay in the old woman’s wagon any longer. There was nothing more she could tell him, and her incessant rambling was grating at his nerves. He must find his wife. Anger and fear filled him as he spoke to Lydia, who only repeated the same story he’d already heard. He wasted no more time; racing to his horse, he took it from the boy who was putting it up for the night, and without a word he mounted the animal and rode to the camp of the Polish Underground. When Ion found out what had happened, he knew where Christian was headed and he followed him. Arriving a few minutes after his brother-in-law, Ion heard the yelling coming from the tent of the leader of the Poles.
“I have no time to wait for you to take action. My wife is in danger. I insist that you find out where she is now. Do you understand me? I will give you whatever you want. I will do whatever you ask.” Christian was shaking the man like a rag doll. “When you asked for my help, I helped you. I demand that you help me now. If you ever want my help again…”
“I will do what I can… Please try to calm down… It will do no good to lose control,” the leader of the Underground sympathized.
“Don’t tell me to calm down. My wife is in the hands of the SS; nothing else matters to me. Find out where they have taken her, and find out now.”
“Go back to your camp. As soon as I have some information I will come to you. I am on my way to find out whatever I can,” the Pole said as Christian released him. Then, shaking out his legs and back from the stiffness of the previous ride, the leader of the Underground remounted his horse, leaving Christian and Ion to wait for answers.
The Heart Of A Gypsy Page 18
