Kanada (10 page)

Wednesday, December 27, 1944 –
Friday, December 29, 1944

I
had become a survival machine. My entire being was focused on staying alive. I was consumed with eating every last crumb of my daily bread ration. I even dreamt of running up to the steaming soup cauldron as it was brought into the Lager during lunch hour and dipping my spoon into it for an extra mouthful. I was always tired, but I refused to give in to the endless exhaustion that had crept into my bones.

October and November brought relentless rain. The Lager turned into a swamp. Our tattered clothes were caked with mud. Then came cruel December with its snow and icy winds, and our suffering deepened. We had no coats. Chilblains covered my hands. I dreamt of being warm. Selections occurred every few weeks. Hours and hours of Appell. Long waits in food lines. Our numbers dwindled.

One icy evening near the end of December, we were squatting on the earth floor, hunched over our bread rations. We huddled together for warmth. Our breath danced like ghosts as we spoke.

“I can't stand this much longer,” said Agi. “I'm freezing. We need firewood.”

The block was supposed to be warmed by hot air passing through chimney flues that ran through the building. The chimney flues were attached to a large brick fireplace in the middle of the block. However, we weren't given any fuel to build the fire that would have created heat.

“You can't be serious! There's no wood, and even if we had any to burn, we don't have matches,” I said.

A mischievous grin appeared on her face. She reached into her pocket and pulled out two large wooden matches. “Surprise!”

“Agi, how did you get hold of matches?”

“The Blockälteste is quite fond of gold coins,” she explained.

“You didn't! It was to pay your passage home!”

She shifted her position on the ground slowly, painfully, like an arthritic old woman. “Be reasonable, Jutka,” she pleaded. “If we freeze to death, we won't have to worry about getting home. Right now, I just want to get warm. My joints are so stiff that I can hardly move.”

“Give it up! Do I have to remind you again that we don't have wood?”

“I told you that I'll figure it out!” She looked so determined that I half believed her.

“It's not worth taking risks. You know what'll happen to you if you're caught!”

“I don't care,” she said. “I can't go on like this any longer. I have to do something.”

I was in bed after the lights were turned out, my teeth chattering with cold. I could feel Agi shivering as she lay next to me.

“I'm an icicle,” she said.

I shifted to be closer to her. My leg touched a rough object lying between us on the mattress.

“What is–”

Her hand clamped over my mouth. “Hush!” she whispered. “It's a wooden plank.”

I inched away from her for a better look. She had piled up several short wooden boards on the mattress.

“I've been pulling loose planks out of the bunks. They'll make perfect firewood. They're even the right length. I'll start a fire once everybody is asleep.”

“Are you out of your mind? They'll kill you if they find out.”

“I'll be careful. I can't bear being so cold.”

I took a look at her the wan cheeks, the pinched expression, the skeletal body with every rib outlined. She looked like Sari before she had been taken away.

“All right. If you're doing it, I'm helping.” I hugged her.

“No! I won't hear of it.”

“You're not doing it alone.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you. Jutka, what's to become of us? Aren't they afraid that God will punish them for being so evil?”

Several hours must have passed because it was pitch-black when I felt Agi shaking my shoulders.

“It's time!”

She climbed down from the bunk carefully. I handed the boards to her one by one. Then I climbed down too, trying to make as little noise as possible. No one stirred as we carried the boards to the fireplace in the center of the room. We stacked the wood in it.

“Give me your matches! I'll light it.”

“Oh no! I forgot to bring them. They're hidden in my shoes,” she said. “I'll be right back!” She disappeared into the darkness.

I waited by the brick fireplace. It felt as if hours had passed, but it must have been only a few moments before she reappeared. It was so dark I couldn't see her face.

“What took you so long? Give me the matches!” I held my hand out in her direction.

The sudden light shining in my eyes blinded me. It was a few seconds before I could make out the Kapo.

“What do you think you're doing?” She was furious.

There was stirring in the bunk beds. Somebody turned on a light, and the Kapo lowered her flashlight. Behind her back, Agi was tiptoeing to our bunk.

“Where did you get the wood?”

I realized that I had to keep her attention focused on me. Agi had almost reached the bunk.

“What do you mean?”

“Don't play games with me, bitch! How did you get firewood? Where are the matches you were looking for? Who was helping you?”

Agi was hauling herself up the side of our bunk.

“I don't understand. I don't know what you're talking about,” I said with as much defiance as I could muster.

She slapped me across the face. “Does that refresh your memory?”

Arms were reaching out of the bunk and pulling Agi up to the top level. I felt as if a tremendous load had been lifted off my shoulders.

The Kapo's attention was still fixed on me. “Talk, bitch! Where did you get the wood? Where are the matches?”

“I don't know!”

That earned me another slap.

“You're going to the Lagerführer's office! He'll improve your memory!”

I saw Agi sit up. Before she could speak, someone clamped a hand over her mouth and pulled her back down. My sigh of relief was so loud that I was afraid the Kapo would hear it.

“Scared, bitch? You should be!” Beating me with her baton and kicking me with her heavy boots, she drove me out of the block toward
SS
headquarters.

The blood flowing down my face tasted rusty. Every muscle, every bone in my body ached, but I knew I'd die before I gave the Kapo the satisfaction of hearing me cry. My silence enraged her.

“Scum!” she yelled, hitting me again.

We reached the headquarters as the winter sun was rising in the sky. I tried to focus on the pink sky, the very air around me, and even the pulsing of blood in my veins. Two armed guards informed us that the Herr Kommandant would be on duty in three hours' time. With a last blow of her baton, the Kapo left me.

I waited and waited, hour after hour, rooted to one spot in the corner of the room, afraid even to breathe, while the guards kept themselves occupied with steins of beer. I tried to keep my panic at bay by staring at a battered piano across the room and playing it in my imagination. My hands and fingers fell asleep, so I shifted my body.

“What's the matter with you?” called a guard. “Are you too impatient to wait for the Herr Kommandant? Would you prefer to go to the ovens instead? Things move more quickly there! That might be more to your liking!”

“Oh no, sir,” I said. “I am not impatient at all. I am happy to wait for the Herr Kommandant. It's just the sight of the piano would you like me to play for you?”

“Why not? It'll help pass the time.”

I stumbled over to the piano. My fingers and feet tingled painfully as blood began to return to them.

“What would you like me to play?”

“Do you know ‘Lili Marlene’?” asked the younger brute.

“Sure.” I began to play.

Next came the German national anthem, “Deutschland über alles.” I followed it with the marching songs that I had heard in the Lager. When I couldn't think of any more marches, I began to play every song I had ever learned. When I ran out of pieces to play, I began to improvise. The guards didn't seem to care as long as I kept the music fast and loud.

My arms and hands were aching, but I was afraid to stop. Through the barred windows, I could see the sun setting when another guard arrived to report that the Lagerführer would not be coming that day.

“What should we do with her?” the younger jailer asked.

“If the Herr Kommandant were here to decide well, that would be different. I don't feel like bothering with her. It would mean extra paperwork. Let's get rid of her.”

My pulse throbbed in my throat and spots floated in front of my eyes. I took a couple of deep breaths to calm down and forced myself to think logically. I still had the gold coins in my pocket. Should I bribe the guards with them? If they became angry, they could take the money away from me and kill me. If I didn't speak up, they would kill me for sure. I had nothing to lose.

“Respected Kommandants,” I finally managed to squeak. “Please, please! I truly meant no wrong. To show you my good
intentions, please accept a small gift.” I reached into my pocket and handed each of the
SS
guards a shiny gold coin.

“Thieving Jew! Where did you get this money?” The older guard bit into his coin. “It's real gold.”

“I want you to have them.” The
SS
men looked at one another in indecision.

“What should we do, Erich?” the younger one asked.

“Let her go. That way, there won't be any explanations needed and no paperwork … and the money … ” He patted his pocket.

The younger guard walked up to me and punched me in the stomach. I doubled over.

“Get out of here!” he snarled. “Get your hide out of my sight!”

I left before he could change his mind. I dragged my aching body back to the block. Agi was anxiously waiting for me. She cleaned my wounds as best she could. She had even saved half of her bread ration for my dinner. It was several days before I could move without pain.

Monday, January 8, 1945

W
e were the walking dead. Every day we heard rumors: “The Americans are about to bomb the crematoria! The Russians are getting closer!” But I had lost hope. Nothing changed, though our keepers were becoming more sadistic with each passing day.

The weather was frigid. Our thin clothing was no protection against the cold. The guards in their heavy overcoats, warm gloves, hats, and high boots devised a game. One afternoon, they divided my block into groups and ordered each group to run from one end of the Lager to the other. The men lined up along the running path, cheering us on. The stakes were high: life or death. An
SS
soldier caught the leg of any prisoner who was lagging behind and tripped her with the hooked end of his walking stick. As the poor Häftling
lay on the icy road, another soldier took aim and shot her in the head.

Finally, it was our turn. I took off my wooden shoes and held them in my hands.

“What are you doing?” Agi asked. “Your feet will freeze!”

“The clogs slow me down. You should take yours off too!”

“It's too cold!”

A guard fired into the air.

“Rette sich wer Kann! Run for your lives!”

“Good luck!”

“You too, Agi!”

It took all my might and the good use of my elbows to propel myself through the crowd of jostling Häftlings. I dropped my shoes, but I kept going, straining for breath until I could see the finish line. I was a few steps away from it when there was a sudden cramp in my right leg. I stumbled, and crumpled to the ground. This can't be happening, I thought. But it was. I tried to get up, but the pain was so intense that I fell back into the snow. I heard laughter, and I found myself staring into the barrel of a gun. I was frozen, unable to move. Everything was happening in slow motion. The ss's finger moved toward the trigger of his rifle, but a sudden weight dropped on me, knocking the breath out of me and obscuring my line of vision. Then, a deafening bang. I lay stunned in the snow. I heard the sound of footsteps. They grew fainter and fainter until there was silence.

I wriggled, trying to get out from under the weight crushing me. I felt something roll off my body and was able to sit
up. The
SS
were gone. Agi was lying face down on the ground beside me. Blood pouring out of her thigh stained the white snow. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shallow. She must have thrown herself on top of me and had taken the
SS
bullet instead.

I had to get help for her immediately. There was not a living person in sight, only the bodies lying by the road. I grabbed Agi under her arms and began to drag her in the direction of our block. It was slow-going, for the ground was rough, and I was so weak that I had to stop every few moments to catch my breath. My bare feet were numb. I was glad that Agi did not regain consciousness during the horrible journey.

Finally, we reached the first barracks. An inmate from Papa helped me put Agi into one of the bunks. Agi looked like a lifeless puppet as she lay on the dirty straw mattress.