“I don’t think it’s nonsense, Bernard,” said another man. “I heard the same thing. From Shmuel. For the right price, and it’s pretty steep, you can get a U.S. visa. He’ll even supply the sponsor for you.”
Daniel uttered a gravelly huff. “It’s all true, Bernard, and it’s not good. Cheaters spawn resentment. Anger. People waiting in line don’t want to be passed up by a cheat. It could undermine the stability of our community.”
Eli felt his blood boil. “What else did Frau Helstein tell you about this man named Max?”
Daniel slowly shook his head. “She said he’s arrogant. He has powerful connections in America, and you do business on his terms or not at all. Why do you say it’s impossible, or that the man’s dead? Do you know this Max?”
Eli pursed his lips and nodded. “Maybe. I knew such a man in Lublin—tall, black hair, fancy clothes, arrogant. And his name was Maximilian. But there was no way he survived.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Maximilian Poleski, as crooked as any thief that ever roamed the earth. An unprincipled profiteer. Soon after Lublin was occupied, he cozied up to the Nazis and curried their favor. He was quick to supply them with a bottle of the finest brandy or to pick up the check at a trendy café or to supply some SS commandant with an innocent young girl. He’d bide his time, lie in wait like a predator, waiting for desperate people to come to him. If you needed food, he could get it. You needed housing, you needed to be transferred from ghetto A to ghetto B, you needed a place to hide, you needed an exemption ID card, Maximilian was only too happy to oblige. For a price. He was open for business—the merchant of war.”
“He could do all that during the occupation?” Bernard asked.
“Oh, yeah. He had his own office in Nazi headquarters. But in the end he double-crossed the wrong people. I was sure that they killed him.”
“Did you see the Nazis kill him?”
“No. But he was as good as dead when I last saw him.”
“Then maybe he’s not dead,” Daniel said. “Or maybe this Max is not your Maximilian after all.”
Eli felt his muscles tense. “If Maximilian lives, he and I have unfinished business. He will answer to me for what he did to my family, and he will tell me what I need to know. If Maximilian roams the earth again, I will have my day of reckoning. That is my sacred promise!”
Bernard slowly stroked his beard. “This is all very distressing. We’ve dealt with black market butchers and black market cigarettes, but the illegal sale of an official U.S. visa? That’s a new one on me. Let me know if you find out anything more about this man.”
* * *
After the meeting was adjourned, and as people were filing out, Dr. Weisman pulled Bernard, Eli and Daniel aside. “Please treat what I’m about to say confidentially. I don’t want to raise an alarm, but two more people have come down with symptoms.”
Eli and Daniel were puzzled. “What symptoms?”
Bernard understood. He had an uneasy expression. “Are you sure?”
The doctor nodded. “We’ve put them under quarantine, but we’re fairly certain.”
“What’s he talking about?” Eli said.
The doctor sighed. “Tuberculosis.”
Daniel’s expression froze. “The White Plague.”
“Is there a cure?” Eli said. “Do we have medicines for that?”
The doctor shook his head. “Not in Föhrenwald, not in Europe. There are trials of a new medicine at the Mayo Clinic in America, but the drug is still experimental and not available. We treat the disease with sulfonamides, rest and fluids. Some recover on their own, but not many. I’m proposing that we post bulletins warning residents of a flu-like virus and advising them all to wash carefully, avoid someone coughing or wheezing and report that person to the camp hospital immediately.”
Bernard spoke soberly. “For the time being and until we’re sure, let’s keep the word ‘tuberculosis’ to ourselves. News like this could cause a panic.”
As Eli walked home, his thoughts returned to Lublin, to Maximilian Poleski. And to that first day of September 1939, when the world caught fire.
CHAPTER FOUR
LUBLIN
LUBLIN, POLAND
SEPTEMBER 1, 1939
In the predawn hours of September 1, 1939, the German battleship Schleswig-Holstein moved silently southward through the Baltic Sea toward the free city of Danzig. At 4:45 a.m. Central European Time, its massive guns commenced firing on the tiny Polish fort of Westerplatte, ushering in what would become the Second World War. Contemporaneously, sixty-two German divisions supported by 1,300 Luftwaffe aircraft crossed the western Polish border. A million German troops invaded Poland from Prussia in the north and Slovakia in the south. The first bombing raids hit Warsaw at 6:00 a.m. The Polish Air Force, caught totally by surprise, was vanquished on the ground within hours.
In Lublin, Poland, not far from the Grodzka Gate, a hand-painted sign over the entrance to a brickyard read ROSEN & SONS BUILDING AND CONSTRUCTION MATERIALS. The sun was warm, the sky was clear, and it was forecasted to stay that way all day. No one predicted storm clouds rising in the west. Eli was hard at work in the yard filling an order. Although there had been a lot of noise on the radio—threats, assurances, and still more threats from Adolf Hitler—there was no reason for Eli to think this day would be anything out of the ordinary, which was why he was so startled when Jakob Rosen rushed out of the office, yelling “Eli, Eli, we’re at war!”
Eli set a load of bricks onto a pallet, turned and wiped his brow. He stood six-two and was strong, tan and fit. His ribbed tank top carried the dust and sweat of the morning’s work. “What are you talking about?” he said as his father approached.
“Germany. Hitler. They have declared a war on Poland. I heard it on the radio. Tanks and planes have crossed our borders! They’re shelling Danzig.”
“Papa,” Eli said. “Calm down. Look up at the sky, what do you see?”
“Nothing, but…”
“Exactly. Hitler wants the free city of Danzig. It’s no secret. He’s said so for months. He whines that Germans in East Prussia are cut off from the mother country. So he’ll occupy Danzig and then he’ll tell Britain and France that he doesn’t want anything more and there’ll be a truce until the next time.”
“No, son, you’re wrong. This is not Czechoslovakia; this is not Austria. He’s not just marching in; he’s bombing Poland from the sky. According to the radio, there are hordes of troops and tanks crossing our western border.”
“Then I will keep an ear to my radio and listen for what comes next. But right now I have a load of bricks and cement that is due at our construction site near the Gate.”
* * *
The sun was setting when Eli arrived home. Though his day had been physically demanding, and though he was troubled by the political news, it always lifted his spirits to walk into his home, watch his young son bound into his arms and see his sweet wife, Esther, her apron around her waist, come out of the kitchen with a smile and a small piece of whatever she was creating for dinner. As he walked over to embrace her, she held up a finger, kissed him on the cheek and said, “Maybe you should shower before you give me one of your famous Eli bear hugs. You have half a brickyard on your shirt.” He chuckled and started for the bathroom but turned around and said, “Essie, did you hear the news?”
“About the Germans?” she said. “It was all anyone could talk about at the clinic. What do you suppose that means for us in Lublin? Will the war come here? Should we be worried?”
He shrugged. “I know my father is. He was upset when he heard it on the radio. But I think it’s just a political maneuver to annex the Polish corridor, similar to what was done with the German population in the Sudeten mountains. Hitler will go into Danzig, full guns blasting, the world will give him the Polish corridor and then there’ll be peace. Just like Austria and Czechoslovakia.”
Esther wrinkled her forehead. “Eli, those countries are now occupied by
German troops. They’re hardly at peace.”
Eli shook his head. “He’ll occupy Danzig. That’s all he wants. What would he do with Poland?”
“Does he need a million troops and tanks just to capture the corridor? The radio reported that German troops were crossing from the north into the corridor, but also from the south through Silesia and Slovakia. Does he need to drop bombs on Poland? It sounds like a lot more than politics to me.”
“Nah. I doubt it. Hitler is full of bluster. He’s heavy-handed in everything he does. He’ll get his way, he always does, and then he’ll quit. Anyway, there’s nothing the Rosen family can do about it. We might as well have dinner.”
She smiled. “Beef and noodles.”
Esther’s smile was gone when Eli emerged from the shower. She was putting on her nurse’s uniform. “The Germans are bombing Warsaw,” she said in a frightened tone. “I heard it on Warsaw radio. There are planes over Lodz. Those cities are nowhere near the Polish corridor. The radio reports that the Polish army is moving to defend the west and calls have gone out to Britain and France for military assistance. I’m going to the hospital. The director has asked us all to come in. We’re making triage plans in case the war comes to Lublin.”
“Essie, you can’t leave. You have to stay with Izaak tonight. Louis called to tell me that there’s an emergency meeting at the Chachmei tonight. All of the town leaders will be there. I have to go.”
“Then you have to take Izaak with you.”
“Esther, he’s six years old.”
Esther placed her hands on her hips. “I can’t take him to the hospital, and we can’t leave him here alone. So, Papa, you have to take your son.”
* * *
Izaak and Eli walked hand in hand to the five-story, sand-colored stone structure that anchored the Jewish quarter. Covering an entire city block, the Yeshiva Chachmei of Lublin, the most important center for Torah study in the world, held the largest collection of biblical writings anywhere on earth. A half-moon crown formed an apex over the eight-columned entranceway. Gold Hebrew letters were scrolled over the doorway. A line of men had already begun to file into the building when Eli and Izaak arrived.
“Why is it called the Chachmei, Papa?”
Eli loved Izaak’s inquisitive nature. “It is the name for the yeshiva. Yeshiva Cachmei. School of the Wise Men.”
“Will I go to this yeshiva someday?”
“Maybe. You have to be at least fourteen years old, and what’s even more important, you have to memorize four hundred pages of Talmud. Only the best students from all around the world are accepted. The teachers are very choosy.”
“Did you go there, Papa?”
Eli laughed. “No, son. Your papa was not a very good bible student.”
“But you’re a real good builder, right?”
Eli hugged his son. “That’s right—you know it! Rosen and Sons built this yeshiva. Your grandpa laid the cornerstone fifteen years ago, in 1924. It took six years to build, and when it was finished in 1930, they presented Grandpa with an award. They named the entry hall after him. Now it is the most important building in Lublin, and that is why we are all meeting here tonight.”
Aaron Horowitz tapped the podium and began the discussion. “We have gathered here tonight under the darkest of clouds. The Nazis have invaded our country. We know what happened to our Jewish brothers and sisters when they occupied Vienna and Prague. If they come to Lublin, we should expect no less.”
“Aaron, they haven’t occupied Poland,” said a man dismissively. “They sent troops and bombs, but it may only be a show of force to secure Danzig and the corridor.”
“That’s foolish,” shouted a man from the back. “They’re bombing Warsaw, Lodz and Poznan. I heard it on the radio. There are panzer tanks rolling in only two hundred kilometers away from us. They could be in Warsaw in a week. Lublin as well.”
There were several grunts of approval.
“Rabbi, what should we do?”
The rabbi held up a finger. “The roads east and north are still open. I wouldn’t think it cowardice or unwise to take your families and go. Lithuania, Latvia, Ukraine. Find a place in a community far away.”
“What about the Russian army? They are Hitler’s allies.”
“This is true, and we believe the Soviets have designs on Eastern Poland, but as far as I know, the roads to the Baltic countries are still open. For those who choose to stay here in Lublin, our ancestral home, we must make plans. We must hold regular meetings here in the Chachmei. This building will stand as our center for information. We don’t know what the future holds for Lublin, and maybe, God willing, the Nazis will never come this far, but we must plan for the worst.”
CHAPTER FIVE
LUBLIN, POLAND
SEPTEMBER 8, 1939
ONE WEEK AFTER THE NAZI INVASION
By the sixth day of September, two Wehrmacht army divisions had joined forces at Lodz and cut Poland in two. Two days later, panzer divisions had compressed the Polish army into five isolated areas around Pomerania, Poznan, Lodz, Krakow and Carpathia. On the seventh day of September, German planes strafed and decimated Warsaw. On the eighth day of September, the war came to Lublin. The city was unprepared.
“Eli, don’t go to work today,” Esther said, getting out of bed. “Stay home. I’m afraid for us. I’m afraid for Izaak. Warsaw radio has gone off the air. The Germans are marching through Poland, and I think it won’t be long before they reach Lublin. Last week Britain and France declared war on Germany. That didn’t stop Hitler or even slow him down. What if the bombs start falling here? Eli, we should listen to the rabbi and leave Lublin. Leave Poland. Now. Today.”
“The rabbi didn’t advise everyone to leave. He only mentioned it as an option. He is staying here along with all the leaders of our community. That includes me, Essie. I’m a councilman, and I don’t think I should run away from my people. I have to stay and protect our town.”
“The Polish army can’t protect our town. How can the rabbi and a few Jews?”
“I didn’t mean we would pick up rifles. But we have forty thousand Jews in our community. Our council needs to speak for our people and assure them during times of trouble.”
“The Nazis wage a hate campaign against our people. You have heard the tales about what they did to us in Vienna. How they torture and abuse us in Germany. The rabbi’s right. We can expect no less in Poland. I think we should leave.”
“And go where, Essie? Where do you want to go? East? Do you trust the Soviets? They’re no friends of the Jews. Things will be just as bad in Ukraine as they will be here.”
“Then maybe we should move into the Polish countryside. Get a cottage on a farm or in a wooded area where the enemy won’t bother with us. Some small village that’s too little to occupy. Think about it, Eli.”
Eli sighed. “All right, I will. We’ll talk about it when I come home tonight. Right now, I have to go to the brickyard. We still have a business to run and we’re working on a huge project. I’ll try to come home early. I promise.”
* * *
The sounds came first. Frightening sounds that caused Eli’s bones to resonate like a tuning fork. Whirring and buzzing and thundering sounds off to the west that shook the ground as though they were earthquake tremors. Eli stood with a sledgehammer in his hand and looked across the yard. Dark clouds were rising on the western horizon, unmistakable bursts of bomb smoke, at first far away but drawing ever closer. Buzz bombers circled in the western sky like swarms of dragonflies. He dropped his tool, dashed into the office and yelled, “Everyone go home. Go to your families. Lublin is under attack!”
By afternoon, German Stukas, single-engine dive-bombers with a hideous whining growl, dove out of the sky above Lublin’s main street, Krakowskie Przedmieście. The city’s main Catholic cathedral and several apartment buildings were destroyed or badly damaged. Like giant wasps, the Stukas dove and soared, dove and soared, stinging their victims and returning for more.
&nbs
p; Eli reached his home, burst through the door, and screamed for Esther. If she heard him, and if she answered, Eli couldn’t tell, as the deafening noise caused his ears to ring. He finally found Esther and Izaak huddled in the cellar next to the coal furnace.
“Essie, you were right all along. I should have listened. We should have fled the city.”
“We cannot focus on what we should have done,” she said, “but on what we must do now.”
There was panic in Eli’s voice. “I don’t have answers, Essie. I don’t know what to do now.” He wrapped his arms around his wife and son and pulled them close. “Whatever comes, we’ll face it together. That’s the only answer I have.”
“When the bombing stops, I’m going to try to get to the hospital,” she said.
“How will we know when the bombing stops?” Izaak said.
“The earth will stop shaking.”
* * *
Ten days later, Nazi tanks and trucks rolled into badly damaged Lublin, followed by hundreds of goose-stepping soldiers. Five hundred Jews who lived on Lublin’s main street, Krakowskie Przedmieście, were given ten minutes to grab whatever belongings they could carry and move into the poorest quarter of Jewish Lublin. Krakowskie Przedmieście was renamed Reichsstrasse, and it quickly became the Nazis’ main thoroughfare. The famed Litewski Square was renamed Adolph Hitler Platz.
CHAPTER SIX
LUBLIN, POLAND
SEPTEMBER 25, 1939
ONE WEEK AFTER THE NAZI OCCUPATION OF LUBLIN
“Please take Izaak with you again today,” Esther said. “We don’t know when or if the schools will reopen. The synagogues are still shuttered. We are treating hundreds of people at the clinic. More come in every day. Some of the Polish soldiers who fought in the Lublin suburbs escaped capture but suffered wounds. I treated four of them yesterday. They tell a horrible story. They were overwhelmed.”
Eli's Promise Page 2
