by Lily Graham
Sofie touched her shoulder, her hands shaking.
‘I – I’m just going to get help.’
‘No,’ breathed Eva, opening her eyes in terror.
‘Kritzelei, we have to. I’ve never done this, and I’ve seen…’ She didn’t finish, her eyes full of all the horrors she’d seen from malnourished women giving birth in the camp. ‘Geneva will know what to do – how to give it the best chance, even though—’
Again, she didn’t finish, her words breaking off. Eva was well aware that her baby was early.
Eva started to cry again, and Sofie touched her hair. ‘It’s going to be okay, Kritzelei,’ she lied.
Eva’s lips trembled. She didn’t know how long she waited, the pain almost blinding as the contractions ripped through her, getting closer and closer together. Her tiny baby was determined to be born tonight.
Helga sat behind her, lending her what strength she had.
After what felt like an eternity she felt cool hands on her forehead, and looked up to see the Blockalteste’s calm black eyes. She began undressing her, and examining her body. ‘It’s going to come soon,’ she said. They had brought with them all they could from Geneva’s room, a pair of scissors sterilised in a kettle full of water and some fresh linens.
With Sofie acting as nurse – as the snow began to fall in thick drifts outside, the wind howling through the barren plains outside – they all knelt by her side as her baby entered the world in one of the most unwelcome places on earth.
Eva tried to sit up to see her child, and Helga held her back, her eyes worried as they all peered down at the tiny baby between her legs. They were all waiting for the cry.
Which did not come.
Eva closed her eyes, her breath coming in fast. ‘Is – is the baby—?’
‘I’m checking,’ said Geneva, putting her ear to the baby’s chest, tapping her slightly, but she didn’t make a sound – they would soon find out that it couldn’t, not really.
The baby fitted easily in Sofie’s hands. It couldn’t weigh more than two and half pounds.
‘Breathing,’ said Geneva at last. ‘She’s alive.’
Eva took in a deep breath. ‘It’s a girl,’ she gasped, a smile butterflying across her face in relief, and unexpected joy.
Geneva nodded, cutting the cord, and wrapping the baby in a cloth and handing it to Eva very gently. The new mother sat up painfully to cradle her child.
‘She is terribly small. Her lungs are very weak, I don’t think she can cry,’ said Geneva, her eyes dark and full of sympathy. ‘I’m not sure if she will survive. But if she does, there might be other problems, her bones look very weak. I’m sorry.’
Eva’s lip trembled as she held her baby gently in her arms, and stared down at the perfect, minuscule face, Michal’s features stamped in miniature, and her heart felt like it might just burst.
‘Naděje,’ she breathed. ‘You will live, I will make sure of it.’
Sofie touched her friend’s arm, tears coursing down her cheeks. ‘I will too.’
A few hours later, Eva’s milk had arrived. It was a miracle. There were other women who’d had babies in Auschwitz, but without milk there was no way to feed them and death soon followed.
After she fed her, they both fell asleep, exhausted from their long night.
She woke up to the heavy sound of marching boots outside, and shouts in loud, angry German.
‘Schnell! Quick. Line up!’
The guards were shouting for them to come outside. Her heart clenched in fear. Suddenly they were there.
‘Everyone who is able to stand – move, outside, quickly!’
Acting fast, Helga and Sofie helped Eva wrap the baby in Eva’s coat, and they left the baby on the top bunk.
‘She will be safer here,’ said Sofie.
Eva wasn’t so sure. Leaving her behind felt like the hardest thing she had to do so far. But taking her could mean death if they saw her, or heard her.
Standing outside in the freezing cold, the snow heavy on the ground, was the longest two hours of her life. It wasn’t an Appell. It was something else, something to do with the aeroplanes that were flying overhead. Finally, when an air raid sounded, the guard told them to return to their barracks, quickly. They scrambled. Eva was freezing cold in her thin dress, but all she could focus on was getting back to Naděje. Was she all right?
She raced back inside, on weak frozen limbs and hurtled into the top bunk, her shaking hands finding the tiny little bundle undisturbed. A small, perfect hand by her mouth, her cheeks faintly pink. Alive. Eva breathed out, fighting against a sudden bought of nausea from the fear.
She clutched her tiny newborn to her chest, rocking her and feeding her moments later, unbearably grateful that she could at least offer that to her child.
But the relief was short-lived. Throughout that cold, long day, the guards kept coming back, kept shouting at them to come outside and line up, and just as quickly the air raid would begin again and they would have to return, cold and shaken, to their bunks. After the third time, the guards stopped coming inside to call them out, and Eva decided to risk staying behind in the bunk, with the baby. Many of the sick, elderly and frail had chosen to wait inside too.
As the days passed, Eva tried her best to hide the baby from the others, it was easier now that the work units had stopped, and with it being so cold, no one ventured much past their bunks apart from going to the latrine or to eat what tiny portions of rations were available to them. Hunger had become a real problem, it was harder than ever to get what they needed now.
One bleak January morning, the snow turning everything white outside, Eva shuffled back from the latrine to her bunk on weak legs, her eyes bleary from fatigue and worry. She’d left Naděje in the warm bunk, and she climbed up to the top bunk, tired, and weary, wanting only to climb inside, clasp her child to her chest, and go to sleep – to try to block out the hunger pains that were ripping through her, only to gasp in sudden, paralysing fear.
It was empty.
Chapter Thirty-One
Eva scrambled down from the bunk, her heart roaring in her ears, her eyes scanning the barracks, which had emptied out from all the raids; many of the women who’d been ordered to leave and had followed had never returned. Had she missed a march?
‘Have you seen Sofie?’ she begged one of the women in the bunk below. ‘Or Helga – it’s important—’
The woman looked up and pointed to the end of barracks. Towards Maria’s room. ‘The Kapo was sniffing around here, she took something from your bunk. I saw her.’
Eva saw spots before her eyes as she raced to the small room at the end of the barracks that was for the Kapo’s sole use. She found the Polish woman with her back towards her.
‘What have you done! Where’s my baby?’ cried Eva.
Maria’s eyes were cool as she turned around. Naděje was asleep in her arms, and Eva’s body grew limp in relief.
The Kapo considered Eva, then sniffed. ‘You really are a fool.’
‘Give her to me!’ Eva demanded, coming forward to snatch her out of the woman’s arms if need be.
To her shock, Maria gave her the baby. An annoyed look on her face.
As Eva clutched Naděje to her, Maria’s expression grew resigned as she stared at the tiny baby in Eva’s arms. ‘If I were you, I’d say my goodbyes now – she’s small, weak. It’s likely she will die soon anyway. If you want, I will do it – take her outside – leave her with the others—’
‘The others?’ repeated Eva. A prickle of fear made her eyes snap to the Polish woman’s.
Maria crossed her arms over herself as she explained. ‘The dead.’
‘No!’ shouted Eva, cradling Naděje to her chest, tears pouring from her eyes.
Maria made a sound of disbelief. ‘Look at her, you fool, she’s going to die anyway. I won’t risk my life for it.’ Her jaw tensed and her expression softened slightly. ‘You shouldn’t either – if the guards come back and find her – and fi
nd out that I didn’t tell them about it, they’ll kill all three of us anyway – me, you, and the child.’
Eva shook her head wildly, trying to scrub away the Kapo’s words. ‘No, please, Maria, I beg you. Don’t do this.’
Maria shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to.’
‘No, you don’t, Maria! You’re a mother, that’s what I heard. Please, I can’t bear to lose my child.’
Maria’s mouth turned into a frown. ‘They killed my daughter. I’m not a mother anymore.’
Eva’s eyes beseeched hers. ‘You’re still a mother—’ A tear fell heavy from her lashes, and she didn’t bother to wipe it away, as Naděje fussed in her arms, waking up. She patted her child’s back gently. ‘You went through that – why would you want to make someone else do it too? Please, Maria. I can’t save your child, but you can save mine.’
Maria looked at Naděje. Her eyes grew cold. ‘I won’t call them – but if they come here, I won’t lie for you – I will tell them about her – no one tried to help me, so that’s the best you can hope for from me.’
Eva blinked at the Kapo’s words, then backed out of the room, her expression bleak. She would kill Maria before she allowed her to betray Naděje to the guards.
She walked slowly on leaden feet to her bunk – it felt like she was on death row, like an inmate waiting for the executioner to arrive, come dusk. She clutched her baby to her chest, and climbed back into her bunk. She didn’t tell Sofie what had happened. She couldn’t. Her friend had risked so much already with Meier, with Geneva. She wouldn’t put her in that position again.
Outside the air raids continued, and the sound of guns and shellfire sounded ever closer. The war was turning against the Germans, but not soon enough.
Two days later they heard the sound of hob-nailed boots outside their block. Eva’s heart hammered loudly in her chest. They were back! She picked up Naděje, and hid her beneath her clothes, close to her chest. The baby squirmed, but lay still, quiet.
A second later they were inside. Women scrambled from their bunks in fear, in haste. Fear ripped through the room, leaving behind an acrid stench.
‘Schnell, quickly, follow us!’ shouted Hinterschloss at the entryway. Eva scrambled with the others, landing awkwardly with her small bundle crooked to her breast, so that she took the impact on her knees, wincing in pain.
His eyes scanned over the room quickly, pausing to look at her for a second, before he marched on, tapping women with his rifle and making them hurry up.
Eva quickly lined up with the others, as far away from him as she could, looking frantically for Maria. Would the Kapo betray her? Surely it was safer to keep quiet? She had to believe that and believe that somehow she could convince her of that. She could find no trace of her as they were led outside into the fallen snow.
Those who were frail or could not stand were left behind. They marched out into the frozen night, and they didn’t stop even as their knees sunk into the thick snow. Eva’s heart thudded in her chest – in the other raids that she and Sofie hadn’t followed, many of the people who had left the barracks hadn’t come back.
She couldn’t help her fear as they were led down to a tunnel, following behind Sofie. The baby squirmed beneath her coat, and she soothed her with a gentle pat.
‘Halt,’ cried Hinterschloss, shining a flashlight in their faces, as he came to walk back down the line.
Eva’s legs flooded with fear. He stood looking at them all for a while, his cold, grey eyes falling on hers for a moment, then moving on down the line.
‘Carry on, walk!’ he ordered, shoving one of the women so that she stumbled. The flashlight clicked off and Eva breathed out a sigh of relief, and followed, shifting the bundle in her arms slightly.
Suddenly she felt a hard hand clamp on her shoulder, and she smelt his foul breath before she saw him. She looked up in the dark tunnel, to find Hinterschloss’s face inches from hers, his mouth twisting in an evil leer. Behind him she saw a flash of a frightened face, Maria. Eva felt as if she’d been doused in icy water. As angry and scared as she’d been, a part of her had naively believed that Maria wouldn’t betray her, despite her words. The Kapo didn’t meet her shocked eyes.
‘Let’s see what we have here,’ he said, making a mad snatch for the baby in her arms. Eva wrenched her arm away, and he took out a pistol, looking over his shoulder at the Kapo. ‘This one has been asking for it for a long time,’ he said with a leer. ‘Our little translator. Always putting herself in places she shouldn’t – including spreading her legs.’ He spat on the ground, then sneered at her. ‘You filthy whore!’
He cocked the pistol. The sound was loud in the dark tunnel and there were sharp intakes of breath. His eyes flashed dangerously. ‘I should have done this the day I met you.’
‘No!’ cried Sofie behind her.
Maria looked away, she had the grace not to meet Eva’s eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, so softly Eva wasn’t sure if she had imagined it.
‘What’s going on?’ called Meier, down the snaking queue of women in the tunnel.
As Hinterschloss turned to answer, Eva made a sudden dive for the gun. Sofie scrambled to help her, and was pushed back. The pistol fell to the ground and both Eva and Hinterschloss dived for it. Eva’s fingers were inches from it, but she was hindered by the baby in her arms, unlike the stronger, fitter guard, who kicked at her side, his hand closing over the pistol. Suddenly there was a loud crack and Hinterschloss slumped over, falling to his knees, blood pooling from his temple. Eva looked up, in shock, to see Sofie standing behind him with a rock in her arms.
There were cheers as the ragtail group of prisoners saw the guard lying face down in the dirt. But the cheers quickly turned to screams as the sound of a rifle blasted through the cold, dark air, leaving a smoky trail.
Eva watched in slow horror as her friend fell over, a look of shock and betrayal flitting on her face as she slid onto her knees, blood mushrooming out of her chest.
‘No!’ shouted Eva, racing forward to catch her friend. Maria followed, and was pushed back angrily by Helga, who screeched, ‘Get away from her!’ To everyone’s surprise she stood back, a look of regret on her face.
Eva watched in agony as Sofie slumped forward, the life draining from her.
Helga stepped forward. ‘Give me Naděje,’ she whispered. Eva didn’t respond, and the old woman prised the child out of her arms. She dipped her head to listen to the child’s lungs, ‘The child is fine,’ she said, touching Eva’s shoulder softly as Eva knelt before her friend, trying somehow to stem the flow of blood with her hands. She couldn’t see for the tears in her eyes.
‘Help her, please,’ cried Eva, sobs wracking through her thin frame. She couldn’t lose Sofie!
Meier stood frozen, a few metres away from where he’d shot the woman he’d claimed to love, a look of disbelief on his face. The rifle was still pointed in their direction.
Eva cradled her friend against her chest. Sofie’s face was as pale as the snow outside, and a thin trickle of blood ribboned from her lips as she tried to speak. Eva wiped it away, ‘You’ll be okay, Sofie, you’ll survive this,’ she lied, she hoped.
Sofie’s breathing was thin and ragged. ‘I’ll miss you, Kritzelei,’ she said. ‘Find Tomas for me.’
‘We’ll find him together, like we said,’ cried Eva, holding on tightly, but Sofie’s body was already limp in her arms, her dark eyes seeing no more. Eva howled, clutching her all the harder.
‘G-get back to your hut,’ commanded Meier. ‘I will deal with the body.’
Eva launched herself at Meier, ready to tear him apart. Maria grabbed hold of her. The Kapo was strong, and resisted her even as Eva tried to attack her instead. ‘Stop,’ she hissed. ‘You’ll get yourself killed!’
‘Which is what you wanted!’ shouted Eva, but the Kapo just held on tight, not letting her go. Eva was weak, her body tiny and malnourished, no match for the well-fed Kapo.
After some time, Meier just shook his h
ead. His blue eyes fell on Sofie’s body. They were full of regret. He knelt down beside her, then picked up her hand, his own shaking as he lifted it to his face. He closed his eyes, and shook his head. ‘I didn’t want to do this,’ he whispered. He looked like he’d aged ten years in the space of seconds. He glanced up, and there was moisture in his blue eyes, as he gave Maria an order.
‘Take Eva away. The baby can stay with her. It will die soon anyway.’ Then, very softly, as he turned back to touch Sofie’s face, closing her eyes, they heard him say, ‘It’s what she would have wanted.’
The Kapo nodded. As she frogmarched Eva back to the barracks, she whispered, ‘It’s your lucky day.’
Eva managed to get one hand free enough to strike the Kapo across her face. She paid for it with a punch in return, and saw only black stars afterwards, as she passed out.
A few of the other women half carried her back to the barracks – they were sick and frail, and it took far longer than it normally would. Helga carried her tiny charge safe in her arms, cradling her to her chest. Naděje had fallen asleep, oblivious to the horror surrounding her. Helga touched her little face with a gnarled finger. It was for the best. One of the other women looked at the baby in the old woman’s arms and shook her head. ‘Poor girl, all of that over a doll.’
She wouldn’t believe that the tiny bundle was a real baby.
When Eva came round, she was in the top bunk again with the other women, Naděje in a blanket beside her. Her head was splitting in pain from where Maria had punched her, but all she could do was gasp from the ache in her heart when she remembered what had happened.
Helga passed her a wedge of black bread, and she ate it with unseeing eyes for her daughter’s sake, thanking the old woman for her kindness. Helga patted her back. She didn’t offer empty condolences, didn’t pretend that things would be better in time, and Eva was grateful for that.
