Eli's Promise

by Ronald H. Balson

  “Tell us, David,” Bernard said, “what happened at the meeting?”

  “It was me, Frau Helstein and Max. He said he’d get me two visas for twelve thousand Swiss francs. I said I don’t have that kind of money. We talked a little longer, and he said he would do two visas for ten thousand. I didn’t have that much either, but I told him I would pay him after I got a job in America. Then he put his hand on my shoulder, like I was his good friend, and he said, ‘How much can you come up with as a down payment? I’ll take the rest in installments once you get settled in America.’ I said two thousand. He said that would be okay, he would order the visa and work out the balance with me. I gave him the two thousand and I haven’t seen him since.” David hung his head. “Don’t I feel like a schmuck.”

  Bernard stood. “Thank you both for coming in to talk to us. Don’t lose hope. Your names are still on the official immigration list here at Föhrenwald. God willing, all of us will soon get a visa.”

  When they had left, Bernard turned to Eli. “We need to pay Frau Helstein a visit.”

  “Yes, we do. I have to pick up Izaak at football practice, but I can meet you there at seven.”

  “That will be fine. How is young Izaak doing?”

  “He’s too smart for me, Bernard.”

  Bernard laughed. “They grow up fast, don’t they? I think they’re smarter than we were at that age. Of course, they’ve seen things that children should never, ever see. They ask hard questions.”

  “That they do. The other night he asked why the U.S. doesn’t bring us into the States and let us earn a living instead of housing and feeding us in displaced persons camps? You can’t fault his logic. How do I answer that?”

  “You could tell him the truth. You could tell him that the U.S. changed its immigration policy in 1924, restricting visas for Central and Eastern Europe while increasing them for Britain and Northern Europe. You know what that was all about. Flat out prejudice. Romania, with a million Jews, was given a quota of 377 at the same time that Britain’s quota was raised to 65,000.”

  “I’m not going to tell my son that it’s hard to get visas because of prejudice in the U.S.”

  “Not just the U.S., Eli. Canada needs farmworkers and industrial workers, everybody knows that, but Mackenzie King’s government doesn’t want to admit Jewish refugees. The head of Canadian immigration stated, ‘None is too many.’ But you’re right, you can’t tell your kid that the world is prejudiced against him. He’s had enough of that here in Europe.”

  * * *

  Eli watched Izaak run toward the sideline. He ran with abandon, with all the boundless energy of a healthy twelve-year-old. A smile spread from ear to ear. His shorts and shin guards evidenced an afternoon of mixing it up on the dirt and grass of the football field.

  “How did it go today?”

  “Good. We have a game Sunday with the team from the American army base. It will be tough because they have a fifteen-year-old. Josh is our oldest player, and he won’t be fourteen until next May. Do you know that the Americans call it soccer, not football?”

  “I’ve heard that. I’m sure you’ll do fine Sunday.”

  “I hope so. We were missing three players at practice today.”

  “How come? Did they also leave Föhrenwald?”

  Izaak shook his head. “Nah, they were sick. They had a cold or something.”

  “Izzie, do you remember what I told you about kids that are coughing?”

  “I know, I know. Stay away, wash my hands. I don’t want to catch their germs.”

  “That’s right, and if someone has a really bad cough, you should tell me about it.”

  “Why? You’re not a doctor, Papa.”

  “That’s true, but I would pass the information on to Dr. Weisman and make sure that the sick person gets medical help.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  FÖHRENWALD DP CAMP

  AMERICAN ZONE

  AUGUST 1946

  Olga Helstein was startled when she answered the doorbell to find Bernard and Eli standing there. “Oh, hello, Director, what brings you by tonight? What can I do for the committee?”

  “Are you busy, Olga?”

  “I, uh, I was just listening to the radio.” She pointed to her bookcase. “The Kraft Music Hour.”

  “Could you spare us a few minutes, please,” he said, walking straight past her without waiting for an answer. Olga backtracked a few steps and nervously gestured toward her kitchen table. “Of course, Director. We can all sit right here. May I offer you each a cup of tea?”

  “Thank you, Olga. Very kind of you. I think you know Eli Rosen?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, Eli is helping me with a very serious problem, and we thought maybe you could help as well.”

  Bernard watched as Olga moved about her kitchen. It was obvious she could feel their stares. Their eyes were locked on her. She became more and more unsettled as she went through the motions of setting a pot of tea on the stove. Her facial muscles twitched. When she brought the teacups to the table, they rattled in her hands.

  “Is there something you want to tell us, Olga?”

  She hesitated for a moment and then replaced her forced smile with narrowed eyes and curled lips. She set her hands on her hips and raised her voice. “Oh, no you don’t! I survived Treblinka; do you know that? I survived! They did not break me! You do not come into my house like the Gestapo and accuse me! Not now, not ever. Get out!”

  Bernard spoke calmly. “We haven’t accused you, Olga. We want your help.”

  “What help? Don’t take me for a fool, Bernard. I know why you’re here.”

  Eli pushed his cup aside and leaned forward. “Do you know what kind of man you are doing business with, Olga? Maximilian Poleski is a liar, a thief and a Nazi collaborator. He was responsible for helping the Nazis commit terrible atrocities in Lublin. He’s a war criminal. And I hold him responsible for what happened to my family.”

  Olga took a breath. “I’m sorry for whatever happened to your family, and I don’t know how or if Max is to blame. I don’t know the name Maximilian Poleski or if he’s the same person. To me, Max is a businessman with connections in the United States. He knows how to pull strings, how to cut through red tape. He can get a visa while the rest of you sit here in this lousy camp rotting like fruit on the vine. You should applaud a man like Max who can get people out.”

  “For six thousand Swiss francs?”

  She shrugged and answered smugly, “He provides a service. He has costs. If you want a visa badly enough, you’ll pay. No one’s forcing anybody to do anything.”

  “He’s not going through lawful immigration channels,” Bernard said. “He’s selling visas to the highest bidder. What he’s doing is illegal, and you are helping him. We’re here to put a stop to this scheme and see to it that criminal activities are punished.”

  Olga scoffed in denial. “I don’t think what he’s doing is illegal. Max told me he was working with people in Washington. How could that be illegal?”

  Bernard lifted his eyebrows. “Olga, you know damn well it’s illegal. The U.S. doesn’t sell visas. How much was he paying you?”

  “None of your business!”

  Bernard stood, looked at Eli and said, “Okay, we’re done here. Olga, you’re finished at Föhrenwald.”

  “What do you mean ‘finished’?”

  “I mean goodbye. Pack up; you’re leaving.”

  “Where am I supposed to go?”

  “Why don’t you buy a visa?”

  “Very funny.”

  Bernard leaned forward. “Where’s Max?”

  She smirked. “Are you and the mighty camp police going to arrest him? Good luck.”

  “As soon as we catch up with him, I assure you he will be arrested. And you as well, Olga. You have both committed crimes.”

  “This is a U.S. DP camp. The camp committee doesn’t own it.” Her sly smile widened. “Your camp police aren’t even real. And your Honor Court has no auth
ority, Bernard.”

  “It isn’t the camp committee that will be prosecuting you and Max. The United States Army has plenary jurisdiction over Camp Föhrenwald. Judgment of the military courts is swift and final.”

  Olga’s smile disappeared. Then her eyes widened as though an idea came to her. “But the army didn’t come here tonight, did they? You came here.”

  “That’s right, Olga.”

  She looked at Eli and then at Bernard. She understood there was a play for her. “You could have sent the military police, but you two chose to come here alone because you want my help, am I right?”

  “That’s the first thing we said when we walked in the door. Now you’re getting smart. How much did Max pay you?”

  She tipped her head from side to side. “If I brought him a customer, I was supposed to get twenty-five percent.”

  “How many of our residents did you bring to Max?”

  “Six.”

  “Does that include Chaim Warshawski and David Fromen?”

  She nodded.

  “How many paid money or property to Max and didn’t get their visa yet?”

  “Three. Max says he’s waiting for the visas to come from Washington. He’s sure they’ll come. He just doesn’t know when.”

  “Who is his contact in Washington?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. He would never tell me. Maybe he figured I’d go into business for myself and cut him out of the profits.” She smiled broadly. She had teeth missing.

  “When is he scheduled to return to Camp Föhrenwald?”

  “Not until there’s a reason. Either he’ll bring the visas for Chaim, David and Sylvia or he’ll come for a new customer.” She paused. “You want me to get him here, don’t you? You want me to get him here so you can arrest him.”

  Bernard sat down and folded his hands on the table. “That is exactly what I want you to do. I want you to reach out to Max and tell him that you have two new customers for him. Tell him they have the money.”

  “He’ll want to know who they are.”

  “Tell him it’s Joel and Leah Weisman.”

  “The doctor?”

  Bernard nodded. “And his wife.”

  “I’ll write to him. I have an address in Munich where he gets his mail, but there’s no guarantee he’ll come.”

  “How many other camps is he working?”

  “I’m not sure. I know Landsberg and Feldafing. I’m sure there are others, but I don’t know which ones.”

  Bernard stood. He pointed his finger and spoke emphatically. “Olga, you write to Max. Tell him Dr. Weisman and his wife want visas. Tell him they’re desperate. Set an appointment as soon as you can. But be careful, Olga. If you betray us, if you tip him off, I’ll turn you straight over to the U.S. Army.”

  “And if I help you, then this whole thing goes away?”

  Bernard nodded. “We’ll tell them about your cooperation. You might have to come up with some restitution.”

  Olga looked confused. “What restitution?”

  “The money you took as a commission, Olga. The twenty-five percent.”

  She laughed. “Oh, yeah, I’m wealthy. I got a total of fifty francs! Max still owes me my cut.”

  Bernard opened the door. “I want to know as soon as you hear from him.”

  * * *

  Once outside, Eli said, “Does Joel know that you just offered him up as bait in a sting?”

  Bernard smiled. “Not yet, but he won’t mind.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  FÖHRENWALD DP CAMP

  AMERICAN ZONE

  SEPTEMBER 1946

  Four weeks later, Frau Helstein told Bernard she had received a communication from Max. She wanted to know what to do next. Bernard told her they would meet her at the assembly hall at eight o’clock, and together they would make a plan.

  Eli, Bernard and Daniel sat in the empty assembly hall playing cards, passing time and waiting for Frau Helstein when a young woman entered, walked up to the table and asked for Bernard. “I am Bernard,” he said. “How can I help you?”

  “Camp Föhrenwald is having David Klyber, the Yiddish poet, next Sunday.”

  “That’s right. He is giving a reading of his poems here in the hall. Do you know him?”

  She shook her head, and as she did, her long blond hair danced from side to side. Eli tried not to stare, but the smooth lines and light complexion of her face reminded him of Esther. He quickly dismissed the thought. Only Esther should remind him of Esther. The woman was very thin, but that was not unusual, especially for those who had newly arrived.

  “My name is Adinah,” she said. “I sing.”

  “Where are you from, Adinah?”

  “Zamość.”

  “Are you a professional singer?”

  Again, a slight shake of her head. “I wanted to be. Before. Now, I just sing.”

  “Are you asking us to put you on the program next Sunday? It’s not a musical.”

  “Poetry is music.”

  She seemed so quiet, so shy, and when she moved, her movements were delicate and gentle. Eli thought her stage presence might not be strong enough to carry off a performance before a packed assembly hall.

  “May I sing for you?” she said softly.

  Again, the men looked at each other and shrugged. Bernard said, “Sure, if you like, you can sing for us, but we are not on the entertainment committee. We’re not running the program.”

  For the first time, a slight smile came to her lips. “You are the camp director. You are running the camp. I will sing now, if you will permit me.”

  Bernard returned the smile. “Please.”

  Adinah closed her eyes, perhaps to imagine herself at another time or place, took a deep breath and began the lovely Yiddish song, “Oyfn Pripetchik.” Her voice was pure and strong, and her artistry superb. The traditional melody flowed from her lips and carried throughout the hall. Eli and Bernard looked at each other in astonishment, as if to say, this voice cannot possibly be coming from this demure woman. And when she sang the fourth verse, Eli, his vision blurred by tears, could not stop from quietly singing along.

  She finished and smiled. Daniel said, “That was lovely, but I am not from Poland and I do not know the song. What is it?”

  Adinah shrugged. “Just a song.”

  “No, it’s more important than that,” Eli said. “It is a song known by every Jewish child growing up in Poland. And in the camps, if you heard someone humming or whistling the melody, it was an instant connection. A piece of our lives the Nazis could not take away. ‘Oyfn Pripetchik.’ ‘On the Hearth.’ It’s about a rabbi teaching young children the letters of the alphabet. It’s warm and it’s sweet, but the fourth verse is prophetic and poignant. It goes, ‘When you grow older, children, you will understand how many tears lie in these letters and how much sorrow.’”

  “You are a marvelous singer, Adinah,” Bernard said. “Do you know other Yiddish songs as well?”

  She nodded. “Many.”

  “Do you know ‘Tumbalalaika’?”

  “Of course.”

  “Will you sing it for me?”

  Once again, she sang, but this time her tone, her delivery, was more upbeat and playful. Adinah captured and held their attention with the traditional song about a young man and his riddles for the young lady he is courting. What can burn and never end? What can yearn and cry without tears? And the young lady answers, “narisher bokher.” “Foolish boy … love can burn and never end. A heart can yearn and cry without tears.”

  “Adinah,” Bernard said, rising from his seat, “you have quite a gift. I will make sure that you are on the program and that your performance will be properly promoted to the camp residents. Our folks should have the pleasure of listening to you as we have tonight. Do you have an accompanist?”

  She gently shook her head.

  “Would you like one? Myron Levy is an excellent pianist.”

  A slight hunch of her shoulders. “Okay.”

&nb
sp; Eli smiled. “I am looking forward to it, Adinah. I’m going to bring my son Izaak. Bernard, make sure I get a seat right up front. By the way, Adinah, back in Zamość, did you happen to know the Solomon family? Abraham and Leah Solomon?”

  She nodded. They had a daughter Beka. She was my age.”

  “And a son named Ben?”

  She nodded again and quietly said, “There’s no one left in Zamość.”

  “I understand,” Eli said. “I will see you at the program.”

  She smiled and walked from the room as silently as a house cat.

  * * *

  Frau Helstein entered the hall shortly thereafter and looked around, as though there might be hidden eyes spying on her. “What news do you have for us, Olga?” Bernard said, pulling out a chair for her.

  “Max took the bait. He’s excited that there are new customers, or should I say new pigeons. He is going first to Landsberg, and then he will come here.”

  “When?”

  “Soon. He didn’t give me a specific date. He told me to personally verify that each customer has the money before he comes. He doesn’t want to waste his time like he did with David.”

  “Waste his time? David gave him two thousand francs.”

  “And he didn’t get a visa yet, did he?”

  “The bastard.”

  “Max also told me to be careful who I talk to. He thinks the U.S. Army might be on to him. He says they would bust up his operation. He has to protect his sources in America.”

  “Where are you supposed to meet him, Olga?”

  “He said he’d let me know.” She stood to leave. “I also asked him about my commission. Where’s my money? He still owes me a lot. He said I’d get it out of the new money. Ha! The guy would cheat his own mother.”

  After she left, Eli said, “Are her commissions going to be a problem, Bernard? I don’t trust her. What’s to stop her from meeting Maximilian, taking a payoff, getting a visa and then skipping out on us?”

  “No doubt, that’s a strong enticement. We’ll have to keep our eyes on her.”

  * * *

  On the way back to the house, Eli stopped in the administration office to talk to Lawrence Davidovich. “Are there any updated residential lists?” Eli asked.