Angel of Auschwitz (12 page)

A black crow had dropped a feather that twisted in the breeze and floated toward her grid of stones. The quill of the feather managed to land exactly in the center of the tiny hole. By a small miracle the feather stood upright in the hole.
Amazing
, thought Jezra as she admired the sleek black feather.

“Caw, caw,”
she heard again, and looked up. She saw one crow flying over the other, making a flying cross in the sky. The intersection of the two arms of the cross marked the spot where Jezra was sitting—the same spot where the black feather had landed. In this way the pair of crows introduced themselves to the young artist. They entered into her imaginary world and spoke to her, mind-to-mind. Many prisoners at Auschwitz retreated into a world of make-believe to escape from feeling emotional pain.

Next, the two birds made a circle in the sky, one following the other, around and around. Jezra knew that the cross and the circle were signs in the heavens. She sent a telepathic message to the flying crows: “Greetings to you, birds of the great sky.” As she thought these words, the two crows abruptly changed the direction of their flight. They flew toward her, one landing on each side of her rows of stones.

“Hail, child of Light! Many animals would like to serve humans but are unable to break through the interspecies communications barrier.
We are here to offer our assistance. We have come to work with you as members of Natasza’s team of healers. We can carry messages from one part of the camp to the other. We can spy on the Nazis and tell you their secrets.

“Learn the meaning of our flying symbols. The cross indicates the location of a person who is in danger or requires healing. The circle marks the location of a group of people in need of help. When you see the cross, you may go safely to the site by yourself. When you see the circle, beware. Protect yourself and bring other healers with you.”

As the pair of crows instructed Jezra, seven more black crows flew overhead, making the sign of a V. “The point of the V faces in the direction of an emergency,” explained the crows. “When a large number of people are involved, a cross cannot mark the site, nor can a circle enclose it. V formation is for massacres and executions. Watch for our maneuvers. Swooping low above your head means
Take cover at once
. Landing on the roof of a barracks means that a sick or wounded person inside needs your attention. Listen for our calls. They are like sirens to warn you:

“Three caws in a row:
All is well
.

“Four caws, pause, four caws:
All clear
.

“Loud caws, a pause between every caw, repeated over and over:
Warning
or
Danger
.

“Listen Learn our language. Practice telepathy. To wake you up, we will drop pebbles or acorns onto the roof above your bed, or we will tap on the roof with our beaks.” The elder crow flew to a nearby roof and tapped it loudly with his beak.
Tap, tap, tap
(pause)
rap, tap, tap
(pause)
RAP, TAP, TAP
. It was a code of three times three. “When you hear tapping on the roof, you are needed immediately. It is life or death.”

Our airborne allies were part of our reconnaissance system. By making periodic sky patrols over the camp, they gathered intelligence and warned us of events taking place beyond the range of our sight and hearing. We were grateful to our animal friends for their devotion to our welfare and dedication to our healing mission.

C
OMPLETING THEIR INSTRUCTIONS, THE
pair of crows flew away. Jezra returned to play her game of make-believe. As she looked again at the neat rows of precious stones, she gasped in surprise. She saw another black feather, straighter and taller than the other, standing at attention across from the first feather.
How can this be?
she wondered. As Jezra examined the new feather, she heard a kind of ethereal laughter. She looked around, but no one was there.

“Ha-ha-ha,” she heard again. “Greetings, Jezra, artist child,” she heard in her mind. The crows had left. Who was speaking to her? A whirlpool of energy swirled in front of her. Slowly, the transparent form of a man began to emerge. He appeared to be stoutly built and in his mid-sixties. His gray hair was pulled tightly back, and he sported a handlebar mustache. He stooped forward, as if he carried a weight on his shoulders.

The ghost-man picked up the feather and twisted it around and around. “I have been watching you, dreamer child. The crows speak to your imagination, and you listen. Natasza speaks to your heart, and you feel compassion. I have come to speak to your spirit-self. I am in spirit form myself, so it comes naturally,” he laughed. “I am Boris Brozinski.” He bowed humbly before the amazed girl.

“Did you move that feather to trick me?” she asked.

“Aha!” Boris winked at her. “And to get your attention. These feathers are a gift from our airborne allies. Dream children fly to heaven on wings of fancy. I am Natasza’s spirit guardian. I serve as the unseen captain of your team of healers. I can feel the bond of love shared by your sisterhood. Let the flame of love burn brightly in the chambers of your heart.

“When you wish to call on me, whisper my name, or take a sacred stone and hold it in your palm.” With these words, the ghost disappeared from sight.

B
ORIS MADE A NIGHTLY
reconnaissance of the camp, entering every quarter, identifying those most in need. Then he communicated the results of his survey to the crows, who marked the locations of the sick and injured.

In the morning the healer girls scanned the skies, looking for messages from the airborne allies. Some of the crows brought supplies they had foraged from the nearby countryside. They carried in their beaks small items such as twine or thread. The twine was used to wrap a splint for a broken bone. The thread was used to sew together rags to make compresses. The birds also gathered herbs of the field and the leaves and roots of plants to be made into medicines and poultices.

A
NIELA WIPED THE SANDS
of slumber from her sleepy eyes. She looked out the window and welcomed the warming rays of the sun. As she greeted the new day, she saw a black crow fly by the window.
“Caw, caw,”
and then another
“Caw-caw-caw.”

“Natasza. Natasza,” she came to wake me. “Someone needs us. Two crows flew by the window.”

We ventured outside and followed the two crows as they flew over rows of barracks. They landed on a rooftop, three barracks down and two over. The birds stood together, side by side, on the edge of the roof, awaiting our arrival.

Gingerly I opened the door of the rundown building and walked in. Aniela followed me, almost on tiptoes. We saw a group of women gathered around the bed of a small child, perhaps four years of age. The little girl was sweating from fever. She was delirious. As she turned her head from side to side she cried, “Dee-Dee. Where are you? Dee-Dee.”

I approached the woman standing closest to the child. Katerina was her name. “I am Natasza. Aniela and I have come to assist as nurses. What is the cause of her fever? And who is Dee-Dee?”

Katerina was clearly grateful. “This is Talya, an orphan child. Today is the third day of her fever. The food she ate was contaminated. She suffers from food poisoning. Dee-Dee was her baby sister, murdered by the Nazis. Her grief consumes her and adds to her frenzy.”

Aniela and I performed hands-on healing on Talya during the morning, doing what we could. The child clutched a rag doll as she wept and cried out. She held the doll in the crook of her arm, as if she were its mother. I sensed that she believed it was her job to watch over her baby sister. She felt that she had failed in her duty to her sister. She could not protect the baby from the brute force of the iron men. She grieved not only for the loss of life but for the loss of her own future.

Katerina followed behind me as I walked out into the yard. She tapped me on the shoulder, seeking consolation. “Is she going to live?” Her imploring eyes touched my heart.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “The ways of God are beyond my understanding.”

Then her eyes lit up. “Let’s make her a new rag doll! That will surely strengthen her will to live.” All the women wanted to give Talya the gift of a new rag doll. Everyone offered to help in any way they could.

The pair of crows gathered straw from the ryegrass fields outside the camp. Meanwhile, I sewed together patches of fabric to make the head, body, arms, and legs, using the needle and thread from our emergency medical kit. I stuffed the rag doll with the straw so it was firm to grip. Jezra gave us blue-gray stones for the eyes and a short twig for the mouth. The nose was a small bone from a mouse skeleton. The birds brought their tail feathers for the skirt and down from their nests for the hair. Baby doll Dee-Dee was now complete.

We brought the new doll to Katerina to give to the orphan child. Every girl needs a doll to develop her nurturing qualities. The rag doll would be a source of comfort for Talya, something to hold onto when fear gripped her heart.

O
UR COMMITMENT TO “SERVE
unto death” united the girls of our healing team. We formed a strong bond of love and dedication to our mission. We shared a group energy, a reservoir of strength from which each girl drew courage and fortitude.

After practice sessions of laying-on of hands, we remained together to express our feelings about our sexuality and femininity. Our bodies were changing and developing new features. We watched as tiny breasts sprouted from bony chests. Downy hair turned coarse and dark. Our feelings were contradictory, with fear on the one hand and hope on the other. We feared rape and sexual assault by the guards. We hoped for the Day of Liberation—to marry and bear children.

Jezra ran her forefinger across her broken front tooth. “When the war is over, no man will want me. If I smile, he will think I am ugly.”

“Oh, no, Jezra!” Aniela exclaimed. “Find a man who loves you for your inner beauty, a man with spiritual sight, a man who can see the truth of you.”

“Do those kinds of men really exist?” asked Klara. “No man would marry a girl with a limp. I will always be too slow and too far behind.”

“Consider yourselves fortunate,” cried Aniela. She pulled her blouse up to her shoulders, exposing her breasts and torso covered with bruises and sores. “These men see only my body. They don’t see my spirit. I feel like a cow, the way they suck my nipples. It hurts!”

“If women ruled the world, they would put an end to war,” I concluded philosophically.

O
LD
M
OTHER SAT OUT
in the yard during the heat of the day. One by one she pulled out scraps of fabric from a sack to purify them in the healing rays of the midday sun. This sack of rags was her pillow and served as a reserve supply of tourniquets for first aid. Klara sat down beside her, admiring the colors and patterns of each piece of cloth.

“I have come to confide in you, dear Mother,” she began. “I am with child. A new life is growing inside me. I can feel the heartbeat of my little one.”

“Prepare yourself for the inevitable,” admonished the wise woman. “Auschwitz is not the place to experience the joy of motherhood. Do not allow yourself to become attached to the baby.”

“Pray for me, please,” beseeched the pregnant girl. “Pray for a miracle, that my child is born alive.”

A
S THE AUTUMN SUN
shone orange in the morning sky, a motorcade arrived at camp headquarters. The three touring cars parked first, followed by an escort of military vehicles. They displayed small flags with swastikas flapping in the breeze.

As the car doors slammed and members of the Nazi High Command disembarked, Commandant Schuller walked out of his office and lavishly greeted the visitors.
“Heil Hitler!”
he saluted them. Following the formalities, the Commandant invited the guests to dine at his private quarters, catered by his personal servants. After the luncheon he took them on a tour and inspection of the camp grounds, pointing out specific buildings and answering their questions. Additional bodyguards joined the party as they walked through the gate into the barbed-wire confines of the concentration camp.

Commandant Schuller joined Reichsführer Heinrich Himmler as they walked side by side in the front of the others, followed by other high ranking Nazi officials and their SS bodyguards. The Gestapo was obsessed with punishing Jews. I wondered what plans they were making that would change our lives.

C
OMPLETING THE INSPECTION, THE
entourage reconvened in Commandant Schuller’s office. He sat behind a big desk in a high-backed leather chair. From his file cabinet he pulled out stacks of papers with statistics. As the men began to review the figures, a lieutenant entered carrying a tray with schnapps and liquor glasses. The Commandant offered a toast: “To the Third Reich.” The liquor glasses clinked together simultaneously with the clicking of their heels. Then the Commandant brought out a wrapped gift for Reichsführer Himmler, a box of raspberry-filled Bavarian chocolates.

The Gestapo elite drank schnapps and ate chocolates as they examined the statistics of death. The extermination reports were compiled daily. They represented an accurate account of the genocide of the Jewish race. Columns of numbers, neat and sterile, revealed the success of the master plan of the Third Reich. The average death count at that time was 1,312 per day, over 9,200 per week.

The men discussed various logistics to speed up the process. The main drawback to increasing the death count was the problem of disposal of the bodies. Also, because of the slave-labor requirements, a reserve pool of workers had to be maintained. Workers who died of illness or abuse were quickly replaced from the reserve supply. Others were kept for experiments by Nazi scientists. Not all Jews were to be eliminated.