Turned Away

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Turned Away Page 9

by Carol Matas


  Anyway, it was so interesting. Young Judea Camp Kvutza. Naturally since it’s a Zionist camp there was much discussion about Palestine. Maybe I’ll go there when I’m grown up and work for the Jewish people.

  I’ll describe a typical day.

  7:00 a.m. woken by the sound of a very loud whistle.

  7:15 everyone is fighting at the washstands for a place.

  7:30 mattresses aired out.

  7:45 exercises. Mostly jumping jacks and touching toes.

  8:00 breakfast! No, services first, then breakfast. Porridge, milk, bread, butter, jam, fruit juice. Always a fight for who gets the butter first, and then how much bread we can stuff into ourselves. Singing.

  8:30 cleanup. I did the clearing away, Marcie washed dishes. Clean our tents.

  9:00 morning Sechot. All of the TO’s were in the same group, the juniors. Such interesting discussions. The Future of Jewish Youth. Arab-Jewish problem. Great Jewish Thinkers, etc. And all discussions came back to the purpose of the camp, Zionism. We even had Hannah Grossman, who has lived there, talk to us. Inspiring!

  10:30 swimming!

  12:00 lunch. Singing.

  1:00 rest and mail. Elizabeth was very good about writing me and I’m very sorry for being so mean about her here in these pages. It’s true, she isn’t concerned about the same things that I am, but she’s been a good friend. Daddy wrote me a couple times, Mommy once. I wrote them 4 letters. And Elizabeth daily.

  2:00 Sechot.

  3:00 swimming.

  4:00 games.

  5:00 rest.

  6:00 dinner, wiener roasts, marshmallows, popcorn, (yes, many stomach aches) and then dancing the hora and singing until bedtime.

  I’m so glad I went. It was so much fun and we talked about important things and yet somehow I didn’t worry all the time. I could have stayed another two weeks.

  Later

  So much has happened since I’ve been gone and now all the worry has returned. Mommy told me all of it at dinner. There has been an official report from Hong Kong about the prisoners. They say that conditions have improved and that the number of wounded has dropped from 1150 to 391 by the middle of March. They also say that the prisoners are satisfied with their food. But March is so long ago — what about now? I guess we’ll have to wait another four months to hear about that! The chances that Morris or Isaac were wounded have to be pretty high.

  There was some terrible trouble in Paris. Over 12,000 Jews rounded up on the 16th. I wish Sarah would write. Adam is back in England.

  Oh how I hate this war!

  Mommy says that there are 5000 Jewish children in France that the Jewish organizations are trying to rescue. They are lobbying the governments in Canada and the U.S. to get them out and are trying to arrange visas for them. But so far, nothing. Daddy is working very hard on it too. I said I wanted to help but they say there is nothing I can do, except not to mind if they are out most nights at meetings. Well, I can certainly take care of myself.

  July 22

  At dinner Mommy explained that they have been told that the French children they are trying to get visas for have been left in camps, their parents deported east. Both the American groups and Canadian groups are pressuring their governments. She is organizing a letter-writing campaign. Daddy’s group is raising funds so they can show the government that they can care for the refugees.

  Mommy read to me from an American Yiddish paper and I’m copying parts of it here.

  Is it too much to hope and expect that these countries will open their door just long enough to admit the Jewish exiles at France … it’s now or never. Either these Jewish victims hounded and persecuted beyond belief and imagination are now given a home in the countries beyond the seas … or the free world, when it rises on the ruins of war, will see only graves where living Jews with ability to create and desire to contribute to human happiness had roamed … Is it too much to ask that these children be given a new lease on life?

  Surely the government will listen now. They have to!

  July 24

  Mommy came home in tears of happiness today. All the work she’s done with her Hong Kong committee has paid off. We will soon be allowed to write the prisoners at Hong Kong and receive letters from them. Until we do I don’t think any of us are really sure they are alive!

  Went to see Cowboy Serenade today starring Gene Autry. Met all the TO’s there and sat beside Joe. He bought my popcorn! Tomorrow we’re meeting at the pool for a swim.

  July 25

  Bad news in the paper today about Hong Kong prisoners. Headline: POOR FOOD CAUSING WIDESPREAD DISEASE. It says that beriberi, pellagra, boils and dysentery are widespread and that some men have lost as much as 60 pounds. Mommy was pacing up and down the living room and cursing!

  July 30

  Elizabeth’s basement flooded last night because of the horrible storm. We got some water as well and Mommy has been down there with Martha all morning, washing everything down with chloride of lime. She’s had to throw out all her pickles, but fortunately the sauerkraut and jams were on a shelf in the garage and didn’t get ruined.

  What a storm! Lightning every few seconds and torrents of rain. I loved it. It was exciting.

  There’s a new Anna Neagle movie opening in a few days. Of course we’re all going. And the TO’s have said that Elizabeth can come along.

  July 31

  A letter from Sarah. It’s all too horrible.

  Ma chère Devorah,

  We are living in misery now after the horror that occurred in Paris. Let me tell you what preceded it, though. May 29 the Germans declared that all Jews here must wear a Star of David sewn to the outside of our outer garments — just like the Jews in Germany and other countries were forced to do. We had to pick them up at the police station and pay for it ourselves through our clothing coupons. It was yellow, outlined in black, the size of a man’s fist, and the word Juif or Juive written in black letters in the centre. I cried. But I had to wear it to school in June. I cannot tell you, my dear, the feelings I had when I walked into class that first day. Fear, humiliation. But Maman and Rachel told me to hold my head high, so I tried. And once at school, the principal made an announcement to the entire school that no one was to be treated any differently because of it and there was to be no teasing. But the looks of pity were so dreadful I almost might have welcomed a fight. Well, perhaps not. My friend Marie was not so lucky and at her school she was teased mercilessly and no one stopped it — the teachers seemed to enjoy it!

  I cannot tell you how it made me feel after a while. I’ve never thought of myself as anything but French, just as I’m sure you think of yourself as Canadian. A Canadian who happens to be Jewish, yes? But when you need to wear something like that and it shows everyone that you are different, I just can’t explain how you feel. Some in the city are supporting us by wearing yellow handkerchiefs and I saw a dog wearing a star on his lead! And when I travelled with Papa on the streetcar then people would get up and offer him a seat, just to show respect. But when the Germans noticed that was happening all over the city, they declared that Jews could only ride on the last car so then we couldn’t even ride like everyone else. Less than six weeks after that, on July 8, we were banned from all public places, such as theatres and parks, libraries, museums, cafés, restaurants, swimming pools, even campgrounds. We can only shop between 11 and noon for food, between 3 and 4 for anything else, and by then the stores are picked clean. So no matter how difficult it was when school was in session, when it ended there was nothing to do and nowhere to go. I spend the afternoons in our courtyard with my friends, playing and trying not to think about the hunger pangs. Rachel is always away.

  And then it happened. On the 16th of July the French police — not the Germans, the French — rounded up thousands, thousands of Jews, most of them foreign born. I must tell you that my friends Martha and her baby sister Arlette are dead. When the police came for them their maman pushed them out the window and threw them to their deaths, and th
en she followed. Maman didn’t tell me — I found out from my friend Alex. Martha was a year younger than me and lived in a different area than us, but we became friends through our piano lessons. She was a true talent and made my playing seem babyish by comparison. Her little sister was the sweetest child you could hope to meet. It’s true her maman was high strung, but she used to say that she didn’t want her children to suffer and she would make sure they didn’t. We didn’t dream that she would mean that. I have not been able to shed a tear, I am so shocked. I feel numb inside, dead.

  The Jews they rounded up were taken to Drancy or to the Vélodrome d’Hiver, a big sports stadium. We heard the most dreadful stories from there. No facilities for the bathroom, people trapped there for days with no food or water and having to relieve themselves out in the open and the stench and sickness. This in our France! Again imagine it happening in Winnipeg and you might have a small idea of the shock we felt. How could our city have sunk so low? Papa seems to be in some sort of trance, and barely speaks. Maman fusses over him but to no avail.

  We still hope to hear news of a visa or a way out of here but hope is hard to hold onto these days.

  Pray for us.

  Sarah

  I showed the letter to Mommy and Daddy. Neither spoke after they read it. Finally Daddy said, “It’s as if the darkest part of the human soul has taken over and crushed anything good.”

  “Not crushed,” Mommy said. “This is what happens when the worst in human nature is encouraged instead of the best. But our side is encouraging the best. We need to remember that, Devorah. Just remember that many people are fighting this evil.”

  Mommy had also had a letter from Uncle Nathaniel, of course, but she didn’t tell me what was in it. Something similar, I wonder, or just another fruitless plea for help? I’m sitting here feeling so rotten I can hardly describe it. I can’t even think of anything to write.

  I just don’t understand. I just don’t.

  August 1942

  August 1

  The Anna Neagle movie, They Flew Alone, was inspiring. After the movie we went for ice cream sodas. I told the TO’s about Sarah’s letter. It upset them all and no one really knew what we could do about it.

  Finally Joe said, “The best thing for us kids is to do what we can. We can’t fight. We can’t really make the grown-ups listen to us. But we can help in the war and that’s what we should do, because the sooner Hitler is dead and defeated, the sooner Sarah will be free. So next year we should have as many fundraisers as we can and do whatever else we can to help.”

  “I have an idea,” Mollie said. “We could baby-sit for free after school so moms can go to meetings or if they need to do factory work.” We all thought that was a grand idea and agreed to do it. We’ll put notices up at the synagogue. And we’ll continue David’s education idea and we’ll still do our own fundraising with teas and sales and we’ll do our knitting.

  I think we all felt better after. There’s nothing worse than feeling helpless.

  August 3

  Daddy is on vacation this week and we’re going up to Clear Lake until Sunday.

  Later

  We had a good drive. When we arrived we went straight to the lake and it was swarming with airmen who are here on leave. Auntie Adele and family are here too, including Jenny (allowed a week leave from training), and she’s being mobbed by the flyers. No wonder — she’s so pretty! There’s a dance tonight and she says I can come with her.

  August 4

  I was too tired to write after the dance. I mostly just watched of course but occasionally a young fellow would let me dance with him just to impress Jenny. Mommy and Daddy came too and Daddy danced with me on his shoes. It was wonderful!

  August 6

  We spend all day at the lake swimming, or barbecuing at night, and we have to go back to the city too soon. There are lots of kids my age and we play all day together — made a new friend, Rosie. She’s a year older than me and will be at Robert H. Smith next year in grade eight. She also has two brothers away and so she understands me and we can talk about our worries and it feels good.

  August 9

  We’re back home. Busy every night playing a very long game of ring-a-levio and some of us are Jerries and some are Allies and it’s been going on all week until all our parents call us to come in and then I’m too tired to write.

  August 12

  Saw Mrs. Miniver with Elizabeth. I cried my eyes out and to my surprise so did Elizabeth. All the way through you are sure that their brave son will die in the war, flying, and then a random bombing and his wife dies! Just like that. It was such a shock and I guess pretty true to life. The things you think will happen often don’t, do they, and you worry and maybe you are worrying about the wrong things. Although in the case of Adam and Morris I think it’s hardly worrying for no reason — or Sarah for that matter.

  August 13

  You won’t believe this, dear diary, but I am writing from the train to Ottawa! I am so excited I can hardly hold my pen! Mommy just woke me up this morning and said, “I’m going to Ottawa to see what I can do about Nathaniel. Do you want to come with me?”

  “Do I?” I exclaimed. “I’ll say!”

  “Well, you’d best get packing, the train leaves at noon.”

  And here we are. I’m sitting in the viewing car writing, as Mommy writes letters to Mr. Blair and his boss Mr. Crerar asking for interviews. She’s also writing to the leaders of the Jewish Congress in Montreal to inform them about what she is doing.

  At 4 o’clock we had tea in the dining car. It was so glamorous. White china and real tea, and little cakes. We sat with a young nurse returning to Toronto from leave in Winnipeg who will soon be going overseas again, and a young officer also returning from leave. He was stationed in England. He’s in the navy, not a flyer, though, so he didn’t know Adam. He too has decorations for bravery and I think he and the nurse hit it off!

  Dinner was even more glamorous than tea. I dressed in my white dress with pink trim and Mommy put on her navy suit with the cream blouse, and we were seated with an elderly couple going to see their new grandchild in Ottawa, their son being away at the Eastern Front. Mommy did not tell them why we were travelling, she just said we had some business in Ottawa. I suppose she doesn’t know who will look on our mission with sympathy and who won’t.

  We have a darling little room with bunk beds. I will sleep on the top. It’s like some fabulous dream and part of me has to remind the other part that the reason for the trip is so serious because the other part is having so much fun!

  August 14

  We are staying in Toronto over the weekend spending time with people from the Canadian Jewish Congress — they have a regional office here, Mommy says. We’re staying at the home of friends Mommy made doing her Hong Kong work. Their names are the Hamiltons and they live in Rosedale and it’s the biggest, fanciest house I’ve ever seen. They aren’t Jewish. Red brick, two stories, six bedrooms and we have our own bathroom attached to our guest bedroom! They have a son in Hong Kong and a daughter two years older than me, who has not been very friendly since I’ve arrived. Her name is Corrine. She’s a real snob. We had a very fancy dinner and there were so many knives and forks, I had no idea which one to use, so I watched Mommy; she seemed to know what to do. We ate four courses and they had servants serving us. First there was clear soup, which I hated but forced myself to eat. Then there was fish — also disgusting so I mashed it around my plate and made it look like I’d eaten it, and then these little birds called Cornish hens that are impossible to cut up and a wing went flying up and hit me in the nose, but everyone pretended it hadn’t happened. If it had been at my house I would have been teased for weeks!

  August 15

  We went to Spadina and College and met a bunch of Mommy’s friends for deli. Now that’s a meal! Oh boy, the food was delicious. I had a huge pastrami sandwich and a huge pickle and a huge piece of apple pie for dessert.

  The adults talked for hours and it got
pretty heated. After about an hour they all just kept repeating the same things. Some thought Mommy shouldn’t be doing what she was doing and that she should be leaving it to official channels, and some thought that it couldn’t hurt because both Crerar and Blair were refusing to meet with the officials from the Congress.

  I got very bored with all the details and asked permission to walk outside. Mommy said I could so I walked down Spadina and looked in the stores and bought little presents for my friends. I bought two scarves, one for Elizabeth and one for Marcie, and they were only 25¢ each! The street was packed with people, as were the shops. It was very exciting.

  August 16

  We’ve arrived in Ottawa and have checked into a hotel downtown. We ate at the hotel dining room and it was very elegant. The train ride here was crowded, full of people who had been visiting Toronto for the weekend and now have to return to work in Ottawa — as well as troops, of course. I stood for much of the trip, as there was always an older person who needed my seat. Of course I offered before I was asked.

  August 17

  What a horrible day. Mommy had word from the secretaries of both men and they have both said they will not see her. She decided to go their offices, but that was fruitless. We sat in the waiting room of first one, Crerar, for three hours and then the other, Blair, for four hours! I thought I would die of boredom and at one point almost broke into Blair’s office by force, but the secretary was a man who looked strong and ready to lift me and throw me out if he had to.

  Mommy wrote letters, again, to them both as we sat there and asked the secretaries to show them the letters. They agreed and then the same thing happened in both offices. They came out, said the letters had been read, there was no point in waiting, that they would write her if there was any change in policy, otherwise there was nothing that could be done. Mommy actually then tried to get into Mr. Blair’s office but she was barred by the secretary standing in front of the door. So Mommy said to him, “I hope, sir, that when the war is over we will all be able to say that we were proud of our actions during such a trying time.” He went pale and said, “I hope so, too.” But wouldn’t budge.

 

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