Irena's War

by Shipman, James D.

  “He refuses,” her friend said.

  “Why won’t he trust us?” asked Adam.

  “He said it’s for your own good. He said the Germans would never let Adam through. He’s had the same crew for more than a year. They would stop them, search the cart. It’s too much risk. He said he would be ready tomorrow. Same time, same plan.”

  “Let me talk to him,” said Adam, starting toward the door.

  “No,” said Irena. “He’s right. If his absence increases the risk even a little bit, it’s not worth it. It’s only one more day.”

  “No!” said Kaji. “I don’t want to stay here any longer.”

  “I know,” said Irena, holding her. “But it’s just until tomorrow. Besides, I’ll stay tonight with you in the ghetto. I’ll sleep in the same bed with you. We can stay up late, and I’ll tell you stories from when I was a little girl, just like you.”

  Kaji’s face brightened. “I would like that,” she said finally.

  “Good, it’s a bargain.”

  They spent the long afternoon and evening together in the orphanage. Ewa and Adam lingered, sitting with them by the fire. True to her word, Irena told Kaji stories about growing up in Otwock, the resort town south of Warsaw on the Vistula. The Jewish families she played with. How the poor would come to her father for medical care and he took care of them no matter what, taking perhaps a chicken in payment or a day’s labor from the family. She spoke proudly of her father, his charity, his socialist beliefs, his dreams for a better Poland—a nation for everyone, rich and poor, Jew and gentile.

  The night moved on and Ewa went upstairs to bed. Adam stayed with them, stoking the fire. Kaji eventually fell asleep, her head in Irena’s lap.

  “I thought she’d be home with me by now,” said Irena.

  “She will be by this time tomorrow.”

  “If she’s still alive.”

  “The plan is a good one,” he said, taking her hand and running his fingers over her palm.

  “All plans are good until they fail.”

  “Why the gloom?” he asked. “You’re ever the optimist.”

  “There’s so much at stake.”

  “I know. But don’t you worry. I know these men. Ala trusts them. Besides, the Germans want nothing to do with the dead. She’ll be safe.” He moved closer and she rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. He was warm and comforting. He stroked her hair and she felt herself relax, her fears melting away in his protective arms.

  “When are you coming out?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “Have you looked at me?” he said. “My features scream Jew to anyone who would bother looking.”

  “Some Poles look like Jews,” she said. “You speak Polish perfectly and you know enough German to get by. I can get you the papers you need to survive out there.”

  “And where would I go? I don’t think your neighbors will believe you gained a niece and a cousin all at the same time.”

  “I’m working on a place.”

  He stroked her hair and he was silent for a few minutes. “I still have the same problems, my dear. My family is here. I can’t simply abandon them. Besides, the war is coming to an end. Surely once the Russians are defeated, the Germans will be busy with their new empire. Perhaps they will forget us?”

  “That’s wishful thinking, you know that.”

  “Only time will tell. For now, all I can think about is getting Kaji out of here and safely to your home. After that, we can talk about the future.”

  “Our future?”

  “All futures.”

  She fell asleep before she realized it. She awoke the next morning, still lying on the hard wooden floor near the fireplace. Kaji was snuggled up against her, fast asleep. Adam was sitting in a chair a meter away, his head pressed against the cushions. She checked her watch; it was nearly nine in the morning.

  She pulled herself up and moved away from Kaji, careful not to wake her. She moved to the chair and pressed her lips against Adam’s head. “Time to wake,” she whispered. He stretched in the chair and opened his eyes, blinking them a few times and looking around as if he was surprised by his surroundings. “That’s right,” he said finally. “There was a delay. I dreamt our little operation had gone off without a hitch, and Kaji was already in Aryan Warsaw.”

  “That’s a good omen,” Irena said. “Let’s hope that everything goes today as planned.”

  They ate breakfast and then spent the morning in the main hall of the orphanage. Kaji played with some of her friends while Ewa, Adam, and Irena waited impatiently for the time to slowly pass. At eleven thirty they departed and returned to the hospital. Ala was waiting for them, just like the day before.

  “Is everything set?” Irena asked.

  “Yes,” said Ala. “He’s already here.”

  Feeling relieved, Irena trailed her friend as she led them again through the hospital and down to the morgue. They entered the adjoining room. This time the outside door was already open and the cart was there, backed up to the entrance. Irena tried to ignore the stacked bodies lining the bottom. Janek was there, looking around nervously.

  “Is she ready?” he asked.

  “All right, Kaji, just like we practiced,” said Irena. “And remember, you must remain perfectly still, and entirely quiet. Your life depends on it.”

  Kaji nodded. “What if the Germans find me?” she asked.

  “Don’t you worry about that,” said Irena. “You just do what we’ve practiced and everything will turn out all right.”

  Janek reached a hand out and took Kaji’s arm. He pulled her up into the cart and helped her to lie down on the row of bodies, near the middle. Irena’s heart broke. How could she do this to her little girl? Still, she had to get her out of the ghetto and to safety. This was the best way. As she watched, barely able to breathe, Janek and his men carried additional bodies onto the cart, stacking them next to Kaji and then above her. They placed wooden slats on the bodies to her left and right, and then lay another corpse directly above her. The slats prevented the body from crushing her. They then filled in the rest of the cart until there were several more layers above Kaji.

  “Can you breathe?” Irena asked. “Are you okay in there?”

  “Yes,” Kaji responded. “But I’m scared.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Irena said, her voice breaking. “You’re my brave little girl.”

  “She’s going to be okay,” said Janek. “In an hour she’ll be on the Aryan side and safe forever.”

  “Take care of her. No matter what.”

  “I will,” Janek said.

  The cart departed. Irena watched them move slowly away. She didn’t move until they were out of sight.

  “You should be going,” Adam said.

  “I wish you could go with me.”

  “Someday, my dear.”

  She pulled Ala and Adam in and held them tight. “Thank you. Thank you both. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Don’t come back for a few days,” ordered Ala. “Spend some time with Kaji. You deserve it.”

  “Okay, I will,” said Irena. She relished the thought of a few days off. She would take Kaji shopping and buy her a new dress. They could walk in the park. Kaji had never known a normal life, and Irena was going to give her one.

  These dreams waltzed through her mind as she departed the hospital and made her way through the gate and into Aryan Warsaw. She walked back to her apartment, arriving there a little after one. She made her mother lunch and then they sat together, waiting for the knock on the door that would signal the beginning of a new life for both of them. They sat at their kitchen table as the minutes dragged by.

  “I’m proud of you,” her mother said. “Saving a life is a marvelous thing.”

  “Even a Jewish life?” Irena asked.

  “A child is a child. And I’ve never hated the Jews, Irena.”

  “You’ve certainly acted like it.”

  Her mother put a hand on hers. “Your father died from a di
sease he contracted taking care of a Jewish family.”

  “That wasn’t their fault. He was just doing his job.”

  “You’re right, but I suppose I did blame them in some way. It’s a difficult life to live when your husband dies and you’re still young. I lost my future that day, and your future too.”

  “I miss him too, Mother. But I didn’t give up my future. My life is just what I wanted.”

  “Including your marriage?”

  “Mietek is a good man. But I never loved him. I don’t think he ever really loved me either. We liked and respected each other, but there was never much in the way of romantic feeling.”

  “And you think you have that with Adam?”

  “We aren’t romantic, Mother.”

  “If you aren’t, you will be.”

  “I don’t know that. I thought we would be by now, but something always holds us back.”

  “If it comes to that—”

  “I know, Mother. Thank you.”

  An hour passed and then another. Irena could feel the fear growing inside her. Something was wrong. She waited until three, her eyes constantly scanning her watch. Finally, she could wait no longer. “I’m going back,” she said.

  “No, stay here,” her mother responded. “They are probably just delayed a bit.”

  Irena shook her head. “It’s something else. I know it.”

  She headed to the door and back out onto the street. She rushed toward the ghetto, her heart full of fear. They were caught. Her little girl was arrested, or perhaps dead. She knew this had been too much of a risk. Too many things could go wrong. She arrived at the wall and endured the endless wait at the gate. She pushed her way through, almost forgetting to show her papers, and rushed to the orphanage. Ewa and Adam were waiting for her.

  “What’s happened?” she demanded.

  “She’s here,” said Ewa. “Everything is okay.”

  Irena breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Why didn’t they take her out?”

  “The ghetto is sealed off,” said Adam. “They aren’t letting anyone out right now, corpses or no.”

  “But why?”

  “Nobody knows,” he said.

  “I do,” said a voice. Irena turned. Dr. Korczak was there. His face was pale, and a deep sadness creased his face. He held a crumpled paper in his hand.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “They are taking us away,” he said, handing her the paper. “They want six thousand of us tomorrow for relocation to the east. And six thousand each day thereafter. We are to assemble at an Umschlagplatz—a place of gathering.”

  She took the paper from him and held it in trembling hands. Six thousand by tomorrow. The ghetto was sealed, and they were taking the Jews away.

  Chapter 17

  The Dance of the Umschlagplatz

  July 1942

  Warsaw Ghetto, Poland

  Irena sat in Dr. Korczak’s office with the doctor, Ewa, and Adam. Two weeks had passed since the announcement of relocation. Each day, the Germans rounded up thousands of Jews and herded them to the train platform at the corner of Stawki and Dzika streets. The Germans were cruel. They didn’t perform the collection work themselves. They had given the Jewish police officers a quota. They must produce so many Jews a day for relocation or their own family would be taken. Adam Czerniaków, the president of the Judenrat, had committed suicide in protest. This decision was a cry of desperation, brave in its own way, but it had done nothing to stop the Germans in their relentless quest to rid the ghetto of the Jews.

  “The Umschlagplatz is a hell in and of itself,” said Dr. Korczak. “There is no food, no water. Sometimes families wait there for days in the heat, without shelter.”

  “I’ve heard worse than that,” said Adam, pulling on a cigarette. “There are Ukrainians there. Vicious killers hired by the SS. They take our women to the upstairs of an adjacent building and rape them. Sometimes they fire into the crowd from the windows of this building, killing people at random.”

  “God have mercy on them all,” said Ewa, bowing her head in prayer.

  “There are rumors of where the trains are headed,” said Irena.

  “What rumors?” asked Ewa.

  “They say the trains are traveling toward a single track near the town of Treblinka. The cars go this way, full of people, and return empty. Nobody comes back.”

  “That could mean lots of things,” said Dr. Korczak. “If they are relocating our people to camps there, they wouldn’t be bringing anyone back, would they?”

  “Do you believe they are just moving us east, Doctor?” asked Adam.

  Dr. Korczak stared into the distance for a moment. “That’s what I want desperately to believe. But no. I don’t know what is waiting for us out there, but I doubt it is better than what we have here. The Germans are out to destroy us. Whether it’s slave labor, or something worse, it cannot be good that they are removing us from this population center.”

  “Agreed,” said Adam. “But what can we do about it?”

  “We can fight,” said Ewa. “Our people are organizing.”

  “Are you kidding?” asked Adam. “What does our resistance have? A couple pistols and a grenade or two? They will slaughter us in half an hour.”

  “Perhaps,” said Dr. Korczak. “But Ewa is right. We should fight them. At least some of us should. I must stay with the children.”

  “No!” said Irena. “You’re wrong, Ewa. There is nothing to fight them with. I want to get you all out. Find hiding places for you. I have those birth certificates.”

  “Hundreds of them?” asked Dr. Korczak. “Even if that were true, you could not get us all out of the ghetto.”

  “Not all at once,” said Irena. “But a few at a time.”

  “Even if you could, where would they go?”

  “I’ve been working on that,” said Irena. “I’ve heard from my friends in the resistance. They are locating safe houses. I have one already—Maria.”

  “Maria?” said Adam, scoffing. “Since when? I thought you suspected her of turning Kaji in to the Germans.”

  “I don’t know that,” said Irena. “We’ve spent a lot of time together in the months since then. She’s offered to hide someone for me. I hope I can trust her.”

  “You should get Adam out if you can,” said Dr. Korczak. “Ewa and Kaji too. If you can do more, that would be wonderful. But at least save those three.”

  “I won’t leave you,” said Ewa to the doctor. “As long as you are here, I will stay too.”

  The doctor looked over at Ewa and smiled. “That’s very kind of you Ewa. You are a darling young woman. But young woman you are, and I’m an old man with not too many years ahead of me. If Irena can arrange it, I want you to go. With as many children as you can manage as well.” His eyes filled with tears. “I’d like to think at the end of the day that I’d saved at least a few of them.”

  “It’s settled then,” said Irena. “I’ll secure housing, documents, and a way out. Once I do, I’ll take Adam, Ewa, and Kaji.” She turned to Ewa. “I’m going to get Ala and Rami out too.”

  Ewa shook her head. “She’ll never leave.”

  “I have to try. She should do it for her daughter if for nothing else.”

  Dr. Korczak rose and they stood up to join him. “I approve of the plan,” he said. “After that, if you are able to take some more of my children, I give them to you.” He stepped forward and took her hand, wearing a sad smile. “Please, Irena, save as many as you can.”

  “You’ve already saved them,” she said, stepping up to kiss him on the cheek. “You brought life to them. This oasis in the midst of hell.”

  “You’re too kind,” he said. “I’ve done what little I could for them. I hope you can do more.”

  “I will do everything I can,” she promised.

  The meeting ended and Adam accompanied her as she left the orphanage.

  “Where are you going now?” he asked.

  “To the hospital. I want to speak wit
h Ala.”

  “I agree with Ewa,” said Adam. “You’re wasting your time. She will refuse you.”

  “We shall see,” said Irena. “Will you come with me?”

  He took a step toward her and then stopped. “I have classes to teach,” he said. “But can you visit me later?”

  “Here?”

  “Yes. Three hours past midday?”

  She checked her watch. “I’d love to.”

  She turned and made her way to the hospital. She arrived a half hour later and inquired about Ala. She found to her surprise that she wasn’t there.

  “You must go to the Umschlagplatz,” a nurse told her.

  “Why there?” Irena asked in alarm.

  “She’s set up a little clinic there with Nachum Remba.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s saving people from the trains.”

  Irena rushed out and headed north on Smocza. She arrived a few minutes later at the gathering place. The road was cluttered with luggage, clothes, shoes, the trappings of thousands who had already gone. She checked her purse, making sure of her papers. If she was mistaken as a Jew she could be whisked away on a train before she had a chance to explain who she was. She had avoided this place since the announcement. She felt fear rising as she grew closer. She didn’t want to see what was happening here, but she had to find her friend.

  The Umschlagplatz was a huge rectangular courtyard surrounded by a towering wall. There was a six-story brick building looming over one of the sides, with many broken windows. The courtyard was full of families, all sitting against the walls or in the middle of the stone ground, their luggage surrounding them. In the front of the courtyard, a rail line stood. The square was crawling with Germans, Jewish policemen, and Ukrainians. Several were eyeing Irena with interest.

  In a corner of the platform she spotted Ala. Her friend had set up a temporary shelter. Two long rows of bodies lay in lines on the platform concrete. Ala was kneeling on the ground, her hands running over an elderly woman who was looking up at her and smiling. Irena recognized Nachum Remba too. He was a Judenrat clerk, but here he was moving among the wounded as if he was a nurse or a doctor.