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Irena's War

Page 20

by Shipman, James D.


  “Ala!” she called as she grew closer. Her friend looked up with a concerned expression and waved Irena over.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispered. “This is a very dangerous place.”

  “I can ask the same of you,” said Irena. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I’ve set up a clinic to take care of the sick and the wounded,” she said. “Look at these poor souls. Three women were raped today, then shot. Two of them are here, wounded and still alive. I have no medicine, little water, nothing to work with.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Look at that train,” said Ala, gesturing at a nearby engine sitting on the tracks, attached to a dozen cattle cars. “Do you know where they are taking people?”

  “I’ve heard rumors. All of them bad.”

  “It’s a death sentence to get into one of those cars. Nachum and I are doing what we can to save a few people here.”

  “That’s what I came to talk to you about,” said Irena, steeling herself for the conversation. “Saving some people.”

  Ala looked up, her interest piqued. “Go on.”

  “I told you I have false birth certificates. I can get other documentation from the department. I want to get you and Rami out of the ghetto.”

  Ala returned to her work. “That’s not necessary.”

  “Not necessary? You just said what’s happening out there!” Irena said, pointing back toward the waiting train. “Six thousand a day, Ala. In three months, there won’t be a soul left here.”

  “I’m the chief nurse of the ghetto. Assigned by the Judenrat. I’ll be exempt. For a while at least.”

  “And then what?” said Irena, stepping forward to grab Ala’s arm and pull her up so she was facing her. “What do you think will happen when there’s nobody left to nurse?”

  “I have a duty to these people, Irena. You of all people should know that. I won’t save myself and sacrifice all of them.”

  “What about Rami? At least let me save her?”

  Ala hesitated and her eyes filled with tears. “No. Not now, not yet.”

  “Will you at least consider your child? I will make sure she is safe.”

  Ala turned away and returned to her work.

  “Ala.”

  Her friend responded with the slightest of nods.

  “I’ll get to work immediately. You don’t have to decide now. But I’ll have the paperwork ready.”

  “Thank you,” Ala whispered. She looked up at one of the Germans, watching them from a few meters away. “You’d best leave before they question you.”

  Irena walked away from the platform, showing her paperwork to a German guard who attempted to stop her. He waved her past. As she departed the Umschlagplatz she made her decision. She would prepare documents for Rami and Ala. She would convince her friend to leave the ghetto somehow.

  * * *

  Irena returned to the orphanage. She was struck by the now deserted streets of the ghetto. For a year and a half, she had navigated these streets, fighting through the smugglers, the beggars, and the pressing throng. Now it was as if the city was abandoned. Occasionally she would glimpse a head at a window. At one intersection a young woman sprinted across the street and dashed into an alley. Otherwise, there was little evidence that nearly a half million people still lived here.

  She arrived back at Dr. Korczak’s building just past three o’clock. She found Adam waiting for her in the main area near the entranceway, sitting at a table with some tea. She sat down and he poured her a cup, along with a little bread. They sat that way for a long time, neither speaking, sitting close to each other and sipping their drinks.

  “I’m not going,” he said finally.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Look around us, Irena,” he said, gesturing with his hands at the little clumps of children playing with toys.

  “You can’t save them,” she said.

  “I can share their journey.”

  She took his hand and squeezed hard. He jolted in surprise and looked up at her. “It won’t do them any good. They have Dr. Korczak here. He will take care of them. I have to get you to safety.”

  “What did Ala say?”

  Irena hesitated. “She’s still deciding.”

  Adam laughed. “You’re a bad liar, my dear. She turned you down, didn’t she?”

  “She wants me to prepare paperwork for Rami. I’m going to do it for both of them.”

  “She’ll never leave. She’s a cornerstone in the ghetto. She’ll sacrifice everything for her people. Why should I do less?”

  “Because I love you,” Irena said, whispering those electric words she’d yearned to say to him for so long. “Because I can’t imagine a world without you. Kaji will need a mother and a father.” She held his hand with both of hers now. “We can have our own children as well. A future. But not if you die out there in the east somewhere.”

  He looked at her for long moments. “I love you too. I’ve loved you for years. But that doesn’t change our condition, Irena. How can I use love to justify leaving all these children? How about my family? What is to happen to them?”

  “Listen to me,” said Irena, soaking up his words. “You aren’t facing the truth. They are going to kill all of you. Do you hear me? There is no coming back from those trains. The Germans are out to destroy you. If I could save your family, and all these children, and everyone in the ghetto, I would do it. But I can’t. The time has come when we must make impossible choices. Does everyone die or do we try to save as many as we can?”

  “Why do I deserve to live?” he muttered, his eyes brooding.

  “It’s not a matter of deserve,” said Irena. “None of these poor children deserve to die. Nobody in this ghetto does. But the hard reality is most of them will be gone in a few months. The question is not whether you deserve it. The question is whether you will take your chance to avoid the fate of this ghetto.”

  “I don’t know, Irena,” he said, shaking his head. “I just don’t know what to say to you about that. I need time to think.”

  “I know it’s a terrible decision. Don’t worry about it right now. It will take some days to prepare things. I just want your permission to put the paperwork together.”

  “I can agree to that at least,” he said. “What about Ewa?”

  “I’m going to do the same for her. When the time comes, I’ll convince all of you to go, if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “All right,” he said. “Lay the groundwork. I must admit I’m afraid to die. But I don’t know if I can live with myself if I leave here without all of them.”

  “We’ll cross that street when we must, my darling,” she whispered. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Irena left the orphanage and the ghetto, heading back toward her office nearby. She had not expected this to be easy, but nobody had really declined at this point. She would prepare all the paperwork and work on the details of an escape plan. She knew that would be the hardest part of all. It was not the documents that were the real problem, it was going to be the escape from the ghetto.

  But first problems first. She squared her shoulders and marched into her building, heading directly upstairs to the director’s office. She knocked and entered. Jan was there. He looked up in annoyance. “What is it now, Irena?”

  Irena slammed the door behind her. “It’s time to choose sides,” she said.

  “What in the hell are you talking about?” he demanded, his face a mottled scarlet.

  “I want birth certificates. I want identification paperwork. I want you to sign everything that’s necessary for three adults and two children, to show they are legally Aryan Poles.”

  “You’re mad,” he said, starting to rise. “I’ve warned you again and again, Irena, but this is the end.”

  “I want the paperwork in the next forty-eight hours.”

  “Or what? What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to make sure you r
eceive the justice you deserve. I know it was you who turned Kaji in to the Germans. You’ve been working with them all along. This is your last chance to prove yourself a Pole and a patriot. If you don’t, then I’m turning you in to the resistance. And they can decide what to do with you.”

  His face was white hot with anger now. “You accuse me of working with the Germans?” he shouted. “I would never betray my country. As for your resistance,” he shouted, pointing a finger at her, “you can tell that band of Bolsheviks to go to hell! They aren’t the only people fighting. I have my own connections, Irena. Freedom fighters who want to return our nation to the Catholic, democratic nation that existed before these bastards arrived.”

  “I remember well what existed before the war,” said Irena. “Your regulations forcing Jews to sit in different parts of the hall at our university. Your laws that favored the wealthy and kept the poor weak and downtrodden. I don’t give a damn about your Catholic Poland. But when this thing is over, there will be an accounting for everyone’s actions. You have a chance to save lives, Jan. These are real people who will die without your help. That’s not socialism or communism. That’s called being a human. I don’t care anymore what the risks are. I don’t care if the Germans are watching. You say you’ve never helped them? I don’t believe you. But even if you’re telling the truth, that’s not good enough. It’s time to help your fellow man!”

  “Get out!” he shouted. “Get out of my office right now and don’t you dare speak about this again to me or to anyone here. Do you understand me?”

  “It’s not going to be that easy,” she said, rising. “Think about your future. I want those five documents in two days.”

  She opened the door and slammed it hard. She stormed out of the building, her emotions hot. She’d just risked everything. If he was working for the Gestapo, she had sealed her fate for good. She stood on the sidewalk for a few minutes, gathering her emotions. She checked her watch; it was nearly five. She should go home and make some dinner for her and her mother. She would need to stop by the market on the way; she had nothing at the apartment to make.

  She crossed the street and headed toward a little store she knew along the way. She wondered what Jan was thinking, what he would do now. She heard footsteps behind her. Someone grabbed her wrist. “Irena Sendler,” said a gruff voice. “You’re coming with us.”

  Chapter 18

  A New Plan

  July 1942

  Warsaw, Poland

  “Who are you?” she whispered.

  “We’re with the resistance,” the man answered. “Get in the car.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief and stepped into the open door of a waiting vehicle. The driver sped off into the streets.

  “It’s about time you contacted me again,” she said. “I’ve needed your help badly.”

  “We weren’t sure we could trust you.”

  “And now you do?”

  “Enough to arrange this meeting, at least.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “All your questions will be answered in a few minutes.”

  She rode along quietly for the next half hour. They traveled east, crossing the Vistula into the Praga district. The vehicle finally halted before a nondescript building. “In there,” the man said, gesturing at the front door.

  “Aren’t you coming with me?” she asked.

  “This meeting is for you, not for me.”

  She stepped out of the car and up toward the entrance. A flicker of fear rose in her mind. What if this wasn’t the resistance? What if this was some kind of Gestapo trick? Or perhaps, even worse, what if Jan had called one of the right-wing resistance groups? The Konfederacja Narodu, for instance. There was infighting among the right- and left-wing groups, even some killing.

  There was nothing she could do, she realized. She couldn’t run, the car was still here. She would have to enter the building and face whatever was in front of her. She climbed the stairs and opened the door. Another man waited for her there, wearing a long leather trench coat. He looked like a Volksdeutscher, a Pole of German descent. He nodded to her and opened a door to his right. She entered the room and realized she’d been here before. She was safe.

  The man was seated at the table. A couple of guards behind him stood in the shadows. “Irena, so nice to see you again.”

  She nodded. Now that she was here and she knew she wasn’t in any danger, she felt her anger rising.

  “What is it?” he asked, as his eyes searched her features.

  “I’ve needed your help badly,” she said. “You promised to help me, but you’ve done nothing. You’ve sat back while I risked my life, while thousands have suffered in the ghetto. You left me no way to contact you. What is the point of a resistance if it sits back and watches!” She shouted this last sentence.

  “We had to find out if we could trust you,” he said, echoing the words of the man in the car.

  “And meanwhile so much horror has happened.”

  “We’ve been very busy, Irena. Don’t be so self-centered as to believe you are our only project. In the time since we saw you that second time, we’ve purchased hundreds of weapons. We’ve carried out political assassinations, bribed officials, saved hundreds of Jews both inside and outside the ghetto. And we’ve observed your movements with great curiosity. There are some who still believe you may be a German spy.”

  “How is that possible?” she asked.

  “Your association with Jan Dobraczyski, for example. And Wiera Gran.”

  “My association with Jan? He hates me. I had to threaten him with violence from your organization. An organization I couldn’t even contact. In order to prevent him from firing me. As for Wiera, she saved my life.”

  “Yes, we’re aware of that. Curious.”

  “What do you know about her?”

  “Plenty. But it is all rumors. We haven’t made up our minds about her. We have made up our minds about Jan. At the best he’s a right-wing fanatic. At the worst, he’s a collaborator with the Gestapo.”

  “I threatened him today.”

  The man leaned forward, curiosity creasing his features. “Tell me.”

  She explained the confrontation with Jan in detail.

  “Interesting. Tell me more about this paperwork, the birth certificates. How does it all fit together?”

  She explained the burning of the parish in Lwów, how an untraceable birth certificate could lead to additional documents, all that would allow a Jew to live in Aryan Warsaw. If they could get out of the ghetto, and if they could find a safe house to live in.

  “And you have plans to help these five Jews escape. How would you get them out?”

  “I haven’t worked that out yet,” she said. She explained the previous plan to take Kaji out of the ghetto in a corpse cart.

  “We have other routes out of the ghetto. Have you tried the All Saints Church?”

  “The what?”

  “Now what kind of Catholic are you, Irena?” the man asked sarcastically. “The All Saints Church is in the ghetto. The church serves Jews in the ghetto who have converted. But that’s not what is interesting. There is a curious geographical reality about the church. One side opens to the ghetto. But there is a second entrance into Aryan Warsaw.”

  “That cannot be true,” said Irena. “Why would the Germans allow it?”

  “They threw up these barriers in a few days. There were bound to be loopholes.”

  “If that’s true,” Irena said, doubting it even though he said it, “then why don’t Jews just walk through the church and escape?”

  “The church is watched. It’s risky to try to escape that way. Besides, without paperwork, what good would it do them? They would be arrested in Aryan Warsaw, or worse, subjected to the blackmail and betrayal of traitorous Poles.”

  “Could I get my people out that way?” she asked.

  “You might. But that’s not what I brought you here to talk about.”

  “What then?”

&nb
sp; “We want you to do more.”

  “More?”

  “We’ve heard you had connections to paperwork. That you were working to get people out of the ghetto. We want to expand your operation.”

  “How?”

  “If you can furnish the documents, we can get them out of the ghetto. We also have safe houses all over the city. People who can be trusted. We can place them in locations where they at least have a fighting chance to survive.”

  “I want to bring all of Dr. Korczak’s orphans out,” she said. “And all of his staff.”

  The man pursed his lips, shaking his head slightly. He coughed hoarsely into a handkerchief before he responded. “Children are tricky. They do not listen well to instructions. When you’re escaping, snap decisions can be life or death.”

  “I will help you,” said Irena. “But the orphanage first.”

  There was a pause. “I’ll consider it.”

  “I need to be able to contact you from now on.”

  “Agreed.”

  “How will I do it?”

  “Maria Kulska.”

  “What?” Irena said with surprise.

  “She’s our agent in your department.”

  “I thought she was a German spy, at least at first.”

  The man laughed. “She does have a difficult personality. But she’s trustworthy. When you need us, contact her. She’s been watching you for a long time. And protecting you.”

  “Who are you?” Irena asked suddenly.

  Another pause. “My name is Julian Grobelny. Our organization is called egota. And from now on, your code name is Jolanta.”

  * * *

  The next two days passed in a blur while Irena made preliminary plans to get her friends and Kaji out of the ghetto, and deeper plans for a mass removal of the orphanage.

  Her first order of business was to visit the All Saints Church. Her first trip to the structure was awe inspiring. Built in the seventeenth century, the church displayed two tall spires rising over a central entryway.

  She spent hours over the next couple of days, praying in the pews, watching people come and go, getting used to the patterns of the priests, keeping a lookout for Germans, both in uniform and without. She took mental notes, trying to figure out the optimal time of day to bring her friends through.

 

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