Warsaw (18 page)

The countryside looked beautiful. Green fields lush and
glistening from the rain, freckled in wild flowers. Hedgerows and rambunctious
trees of autumnal brown and russets also filled the vista. A couple of Polish
children - teenagers within the year - pointed at the steaming train and made
faces and waved in amusement at the comically despondent countenances poking
out from within the rattling cars. One of the boys had spied a Jew jump off a
train one evening a month ago. The guards did not see the event so, keeping his
distance, the boy followed the fugitive - who had sprained his ankle from his
fall from the train. He tracked the hobbling Jew into some woodland. Such was
the desperation of the escapee that he stopped and knocked upon the door of the
first cottage he came across. Hesitant and fearful the elderly couple eventually
took the Jew in, promising him food and shelter for the night - but that he had
to leave first thing in the morning. The boy ran as fast as his legs could
carry him back through the wood and to the village. Without even returning home
first he found a policeman, who made a phone call. Eventually an SS officer and
two soldiers turned up and the boy led them all to the cottage where the Jew
was hiding. He was still there when the soldiers arrived. The SS officer took
both the escapee and those enemies of the state away to be questioned. For his
pains and "doing his duty" the boy but received a "well
done" and pat on the head from the SS officer - and thus cursed the
Germans underneath his breath all the way home for their lack of rewarding him
more substantially.

Her groaning belly and something else altogether made Halina
Rubenstein feel weak, hollowed out, as the swaying train continued to grumble
along its tracks. She had next to no idea what the time was, or how long they
had been on the train. Had she slipped in and out of consciousness through
fainting, or had she dozed off from exhaustion? An overwrought mother
temporarily distracted Halina. She was holding her waif-like daughter next to
her, whispering into her ear like some mantra, "God is with us...God is
with us" - as if trying to convince herself and bolster her own spirits as
much as her young girl's.

Where once the 150 or so deportees in Halina's carriage
wanted the inhumane journey (or "shuttle service" as it was sometimes
called by the Germans) to end, a natural feeling of dread invisibly yet
tangibly formed inside the car as they crossed the River Bug. They realised
they were nearing their destination. Where once people fainted in the heat
teeth now chattered and people shivered in fear. Would they just all be shot?
Someone had said how they had a euthanasia programme in Germany and they had
used lethal injections. Or people in the ghetto reported, apparently hearing it
from men who had escaped from the camp, that the Germans were gassing people.
But surely they would still need some of them as workers? Yes, there was still
hope.

The train began to slow and the rhythmic bass of the wheels
below turned into high-pitched squealing. Halina's eyes darted left and right
through the barbed wire window, being crushed against the side of the carriage
as other people tried to do the same. The facade of an empty ticket office and
a sign signifying that there was a restaurant helped Halina believe that the
station might indeed be a designated stop - and as promised they would be
taking on food and water.

Halina could hear many of the other carriages being opened.
The rousing shouts were deafening. The caustic yellow sun near blinded the
squinting woman.

"Shnell! Shnell!" the thuggish, Ukrainian guards
announced, pulling the front ranks of the evacuees down from the carriages.
Whips were brandished and employed with malice. Not wishing to share their fate
- and often landing on those who had been hauled to the floor - the people
hurriedly got off the trains. Halina too was particularly eager in getting onto
the platform in hope of re-joining her husband. She prayed that he had been
lucky enough to find someone who would look after him. A couple of shots rang
out from the other end of the platform but for the most part there was an
absence of arbitrary executions and beatings (the soldiers full knowing that
the consignment of Jews would all be dispatched within the hour anyway).

A young, intelligent-looking SS officer stood on a raised
platform in the station square where, beneath him, the evacuees congregated
until everyone had been unloaded from the train. He removed some flecks of ash
off his otherwise pristine officer's cap, and then brushed a couple of flies
away from his face using one of his leather gloves. Yawning, going through the
expressions of boredom and annoyance, he finally, adopting a personable and
pragmatic tone, spoke to his charges via a microphone and speakers.

"You are now at a transit camp. Soon you will be given
food and water for the rest of your journey, but first we need to bathe you and
give you your new work clothes. You need to first tie-up your shoes (Jewish
boys who were fortunate enough to work at the camp here began to move among the
crowd and handed out string). You do not want to lose them or get them
mixed-up. If you have any valuables you must also deposit them with one of my
men for now. Do not worry, you will be given a receipt and anything handed over
will be given back to you when you are all given your new garments."

Despite the level assurances of the German officer few
people here took up the offer. Valuables were confiscated rather than freely
handed over. As well as collecting valuables a handful of SS soldiers also
entered the crowd and removed any healthy-looking young Jewish men who were
candidates for work duties at the camp (one of their first tasks would be to
sort through the clothes and possessions of their dead friends and families
after the gassings). Those who seemed too old or sick to manage the trip to the
gas chambers were also removed from the group. They would be taken to a
building marked "Hospital" situated at the back of the camp. Once
inside the building, which was decorated with a Red Cross, prisoners would be
executed with revolver shots to the head by the same soldiers who kindly
escorted the "patients" to the hospital. Despite the agony of her
aching feet and ankles Halina stood on tip-toes and tried, frantically, in
vain, to pick out her husband's face amidst thousands of downcast, apprehensive
expressions.

"You will soon be temporarily separated, where you will
undress and wash yourselves in the showers provided. The women among you will
be shaved. We are doing this for your benefit as it will prevent the spread of
lice in the future." In reality the policy was initiated for the benefit
of industrial purposes, the hair being used to make, among other things, socks
for German U-boat crews.

The square began to clear as men and women, families, were
forcibly separated amidst tears and screams - as whips lashed into tardy backs
and faces. Halina caught wind of a strange, acrid smell which permeated the
air. She gazed over to where the fumes seemed to be originating from and
noticed the clouds of smoke which rose, along with endless vomiting streams of
ash, from behind a group of buildings on the other side of the camp. Noticing
that it was not just the old woman who was stopping to pause at the putrid
odour and belching fires, the guard explained that the camp possessed a small
rubber manufacturing plant.

More shouting. As much as there was an initial commotion
amidst the evacuees the soldiers were efficient and well practised at
establishing order and processing their charges. The clean-shaven officer upon
the platform continued to be the voice of reason and calm also.

"Please be as quick as possible. The quicker we can
shower and clothe you, the quicker you will be able see your loved ones again
and we'll be able to feed you."

Standing behind the young but accomplished SS soldier two
other, senior, SS officers nodded appreciatively to each other as if to say he
was doing well. Albeit one of them, one Kurt Franz, was wary of the classically
educated Lieutenant - partly out of envy, partly because of the naked ambition
of the adolescent. Kurt Franz nevertheless showed his approval of the efficient
toad-eater in front of the commandant of the camp, Franz Stangl. Stangl, a
devoted family man and practising Catholic, would later remark after the war in
relation to his tenure at the camp, "That was my profession. I enjoyed it.
It fulfilled me.” Kurt Franz himself was Stangl's second in command, a veteran
of both the concentration camp at Buchenwald and original T-4 programme; he was
proficient as he was sadistic in his duties. Survivors of Treblinka, of which
there were precious few, attested to his singular brutality and zeal, even
training his dog to attack his victims by biting them in the genitals.

Again, as it had now become the routine for the day, Halina
was swept along by the buffeting tide of people (now consisting solely of
soldiers and women) to be channelled into a large barracks building. Polish
women, as well as the soldiers from the camp, ordered and helped the women
undress. The buzz of electric shavers sounded in the background. Fear
eventually overruled Halina's sense of discomfort and the once elegant Jewess
began to undress, her gaze stapled to a spot on the floor so as to avoid any
awkward eye contact with the rest of the women. Halina began to quietly sob
again. She clutched her patched-up clothes to her chest but a flint-faced
Polish woman soon snatched the bundle away from her and pushed Halina towards
the queue where the female evacuees were having their heads shaven. In place of
her clothes the self-conscious woman placed her withered arms and hands over
her private parts. Man-handled by another Polish woman Halina's hair was
shaved. Should she and many of the other women in the barracks have been
provided with mirrors at this final indignity few would have recognised
themselves.

A giant tube linked the barracks to a building which housed
what the Germans called the "Baths and Inhalation" rooms. The naked
women screamed as they were viciously whipped and ordered to hurry down the
pipe. The Germans called the long circular conduit "Himmelfahrstrasse"
- "the path to heaven". Such was the hysteria and speed which
accompanied Halina as the diminished woman was hurried through the tunnel that,
like so many other moments during that day, she had little time to think about
where she was heading? - or what was going to happen? Out of the corner of her
eye she noticed two pots of colourfully blooming geraniums which stood either
side of the entrance to the bathhouse. Halina briefly took in a copper Star of
David which hung above the strange metal door.

The chamber that Halina and two hundred other Jewish women
were forced into measured around eight metres by five metres. Blood and sick
stains grazed the walls and floor of the tiled room. Decorative shower nozzles
hung from the ceiling. Over the cries and screams of nakedly terrified people
Halina heard the heavy door shut behind them all. A diesel engine pumped carbon
monoxide gas into the chamber. Halina Rubenstein passed away. Her last clear
thoughts were of her children - offering up a prayer that Jessica and Kolya
would not suffer her fate.

Thirty minutes later a group of Sonderkommandos, also known
as the "death brigade", emptied the chamber. Dentures and gold teeth
were extracted. The corpses were then thrown into open pits and burned.
Sometimes flesh was cut from a victim's body. A kettle was set up behind the
gas chambers, where the flesh would be used to help produce soap.

15.

Time passes.

Morning. Dietmar Klos finally roused himself. He got up and
closed the window. The draft was sharp upon his face, chilling his chest and
spine beneath the goose-feather quilt. Once closed however the adjutant swiftly
climbed back into bed and curled back up into a ball. He had now moved into his
employer's apartment, such were the demands of his role to be at the
industrious officer's side at all times. As a result Dietmar possessed quarters
and privileges far beyond his rank. A quick scan of the secretary's room would
take in a crystal tumbler filled with the leftovers of yester night’s brandy, a
door leading to a private bathroom, an empty chocolate wrapper and even a
costly gramophone.

One of the "rules" of the youth's employment was
that Dietmar had to make sure he always returned to his quarters directly after
his evening with the superior officer. Christian was sometimes afflicted with
dark thoughts of disgust and despondency immediately after sex - the frigidity
after the event was as pronounced as the all too brief and bestial excitement
during the act. He wanted nothing more than for Dietmar just to be out of his
sight after lighting him a cigarette. Moreover the Lieutenant ordered his
adjutant to his room out of additional caution of the liaison not being
discovered by the maid in the morning, or a fellow officer visiting him in the
night on official business.

Dietmar had broken the rule once, to his sore regret and
left cheek. The Lieutenant and his adjutant had experienced a pleasant evening
together. Some of Christian's favourite pieces of classical music played in the
background (with the Lieutenant attempting to impress upon Dietmar his superior
taste) as they savoured their venison together, washed down with a fine bottle
of claret on the officer's part. Christian had been in a convivial mood all
that day, having received a letter from his father that morning informing him
of the favourable reports that were circulating about him from high ranking SS
officials. Partly due to the lift that this news brought him and partly due to
the heady mood which the rich claret inspired in Christian he was particularly
tender towards his partner. After discussing music for a little while,
Christian generously offered to buy Dietmar his own gramophone for his room. At
the close of the night Kleist freely surrendered himself to the whims and positions
of his young but experienced lover - where usually he himself would play the
dominant partner. The adjutant however, as well as being exhausted after the
physical duties, also had more than his fair share of wine that evening and
both men found themselves waking up in the same bed the following morning. With
Christian already groggy and irritable from a penetrating hangover the
adjutant's disobedience was not to be countenanced. Kleist, barely suppressing
his ire, sternly ordered the youth out of his room. However, still in a playful
mood from the amorous night before and wishing to test his powers in directing
his lover, Dietmar made an advance towards his officer. The youth received a
sudden and volatile reply. Christian violently struck the insubordinate boy
around the face. Dietmar's left ear rang as a hot flush of pain heated his jaw
and reality spiralled out of control for a second or two, but still the shocked
secretary heard and obeyed the order spat out from his Lieutenant to leave the
room. By the afternoon of that day the Lieutenant's headache - and anger at
Dietmar's behaviour - subsided. He knocked upon his door and duly apologised to
the youth, making sure to insert however that the adjutant had been wrong in
both breaking one of his rules and disobeying a direct order. For his part
Dietmar forgave and exonerated his partner to the point where he acted so
chastised as to make Christian feel guiltier. Before the week was through - a
week in which the Lieutenant permitted Dietmar not to leave the apartment and
allow the dramatic red mark on his cheek to disappear - Christian made good on
his word in buying his companion a gramophone.

The secretary had cause to be wary of his employer's temper
again not ten days later however. As much as Christian could be generous the
Lieutenant could also be demanding in terms of the work he set his new staff
member. Moreover the standards he set were obsessively high. Part of Dietmar's
duties involved dictation and drafting letters which the SS officer then sent
to his superiors back in Berlin. Twice the Lieutenant had warned his secretary
about his spelling before he received a letter back one afternoon which
included a postscript commenting upon - in both a patronising and officious
tone - the Lieutenant's spelling and basic errors in grammar. Christian was all
the more nettled as the letter and rebuke appeared to have come from someone
equal, or below him even, in rank; the letter also reiterated the directive
that the Lieutenant and his men should target their resources and efforts upon
the mass evacuations, instead of random and time consuming acts of exuberance
and individual policing. Seething, Christian calmly called his assistant in and
politely asked him to take the offending correspondence and file it immediately.
As the unsuspecting adjutant leaned across the Lieutenant however to carry out
his instruction Christian pinned the youth's hand upon the table and stubbed
out his cigarette upon it,

"You fucking imbecile...Go back and check every letter
you've sent out since this one. I classify people as either a help or a
hindrance. Decide which you would rather be."

As with before though Kleist sincerely apologised to Dietmar
later on that evening and promised that he would not treat him in such a way
again - but again added that he had been in the wrong and expected better of a
member of his staff in the future. To sufficiently and expediently win back the
favour and loyalty of the youth Christian, without acting as if he were buying
back his affection, offered to write a cheque to pay for any bomb damage that
had been caused to Dietmar's parent's house back in Hamburg. At first, for good
form's sake, Dietmar acted proudly and protested that the Lieutenant had no
need to commit such a generous act, but upon the third time of being asked the
secretary reluctantly yet gladly accepted the offer.

By now though, as Dietmar warmed and touched himself under
his bedclothes, he believed that he was wiser to the Lieutenant's moods and
demands. Experienced. If he didn't do anything wrong then he would not be
punished. Kleist had never been explicit about it but the Lieutenant expected
that Dietmar, like himself, should and could act differently (dramatically so)
when in and out of company. Dietmar could now understand the unwritten order
that he must act as his adjutant by day, lover by night. He was wise enough to
choose to suffer in silence and put up with his partner's temper as he knew
that the alternatives were far worse. As resigned to his fate and self-serving
as the youth was it could equally be argued that the impressionable Private
was, to some extent, falling under the spell of the dazzling Lieutenant. He
genuinely enjoyed making the troubled officer smile, relieving him of the
pressures of his duties. Dietmar told himself that it was his brief, both as
his secretary and clandestine lover, to ease Christian's stresses and please
him; he willingly massaged - rather than wanted to be massaged - Christian's
shoulders in the evening after dinner. The request by the tense Lieutenant - or
sometimes Dietmar offered his services and soothing hands - was also the signal
for the officer's demands for sex.

 
Duritz shivered. He
buried himself under his two cotton sheets so that only the crown of his head
could be seen poking out over the covers. He toyed with the idea of getting up
and putting on more clothes but he hadn't the energy, nor was the chill in the
air that unbearable, yet. He would remain in bed for the morning until the
temperature rose a few degrees. He hoped to himself that he would be able to
fall asleep between now and that time.

Adam had lost a little weight, grown a little paler. A
species of migraine, in which the right side of his forehead felt like it had a
block of ice pressing against it, was a regular bedfellow. He couldn't remember
the last time that his mouth had been free from at least one pestering ulcer.
Atrophy. His Augean room began to mirror his heart. One of the small pleasures
in his life had become that of lancing boils that sprouted upon his buttocks,
armpits and back. Duritz couldn't help but pick the scabs as well. A capsule of
potassium cyanide rested upon a volume of Kafka's stories next to his bed.

Anna had left. She didn't even say goodbye, although a brief
note had been shoved under his door. She said that she had to leave that night,
or not at all. She was going into hiding and buying Polish papers. The note
said for him to "take care" and that hopefully they would be able to
find each other after the war was over, although she tellingly failed to
reiterate any of the ideas they had come up with in the past as to how they
would achieve this aim. Adam was sorrowful, but understood. He missed the food,
sex and companionship in equal measure.

 
"Perhaps it's
better this way. Absence can now make the heart grow fonder, instead of
familiarity bringing contempt," he had sardonically remarked to Thomas
whilst smiling, grimly. The Corporal felt for his young friend, but didn't wish
to show pity or too much sympathy for fear of an abrasive reaction from the
proud, sarcastic youth. Self-pity, in private, was fine however for the
student. The Corporal still visited Duritz - though the atmosphere was often
muted and strained - and supplied him with what little food he could, but both
the visits and supplies had grown sporadic of late.

The rain and wind hammered upon the pane, preventing sleep.

Jessica kept her head down and rocked slightly as, holding
Kolya's hand, she stood before the gates of the ghetto, waiting to be marched
through towards the nearby factory which at present manufactured various
Junkers 88 parts for the Luftwaffe. Thomas had organised the new positions and
work cards for the brother and sister. So too he had arranged, through the
requisite bribe, that the Rubenstein’s should only have to work a half day in
the factory - as it was their task also to clean the Corporal's barracks (which
Thomas freed them from doing, permitting Jessica and Kolya to return home early
each day).

Akin to Duritz almost, Thomas had taken it upon himself as a
religious penance to save Jessica and her brother after their parents were
evacuated - as if their survival would partly exonerate him of all those
faceless faces who he had unwittingly helped "process" in the
Umschlagplatz. But it was not just from a feeling of compassion which spurred
the good Corporal on to visit and provide for Jessica. He was stimulated by her
company and had grown attracted to her as a woman. She was different. There was
something about her. Occasionally he was struck by feelings of guilt for some
of his desires. He also justified himself in all manner of ways when he wrote
to his wife requesting that she withdraw half of their savings from the bank
and send the money to him. If it came to it Thomas would attempt to purchase
Jessica's passage out of the ghetto. He was wary of doing so though out of
distrusting in any plan's success, for he could well condemn Jessica and her
brother to capture and death rather than salvation. So too it could be argued
that the soldier tempered any zeal for such a plan because he just didn't want
to lose Jessica.

The fatigued young woman and her increasingly detached
brother finally returned home. The morning in the factory had been routine yet
arduous. Jessica felt relief, as well as a little shame at her privilege, when
thinking upon how her fellow workers would remain in the factory for hours
still. Three more people had been executed on the machine floor today. For
what? No one did, or could, say.

Kolya asked to be able to take a nap in their parent's old
bed. He said that he was tired and wanted to just read for a bit and then
sleep. The real reason however was that he had half a pint of vodka which he
wanted to drink in secret. Kolya had drunk a little before he had lost his
mother and father, but worryingly so after their sudden, wrenching evacuation.
He missed them terribly and often cried in private. He grew resentful of his
sister for trying to take his mother's place. He was suspicious and resented
his sister for her friendship with one of them. Kolya was pronounced in his
sullenness whenever Thomas visited the apartment. He despised the uniform so
much, distrusted and condemning anyone who wore it. The drink made him feel
better, or numb. The boy even began to take payment for some of his smuggling-runs
and errands now in measures of vodka or wine.

Jessica felt like crying, but couldn't. Partly she was too
exhausted. An impenetrable isolation weighed heavily around her neck to the
point where she put her head in her hands on the table. Her long hair splayed
all around her and masked a singularly sorrowful face. It was as if life, the
ghetto, had spooned out all of her innards - and then she had been stuffed with
the black cotton wool of grief, which absorbed or annulled all other feelings,
thoughts. Her heart fluttered not upon seeing Thomas, like it used to. Jessica
looked through the eyes of her mother of the would-be relationship and realised
it was wrong. She was grateful for all that he had done for her and Kolya. But
her heart pulsated not like it used to when she was with him. She no longer
dreamed or day-dreamed about the German in that way. Things were not the same
between them. Jessica sensed he felt more of something towards her, but she now
felt less for the German. She did - or could - not feel much about anything.
Jessica Rubenstein felt alive but dead.