“A few days before the planned escape, she agreed that her brothers should move in with the neighbors. That way, if they delayed her parents’ release, at least her brothers would feel secure.
“As you might expect, her last day was difficult, not being able to say goodbye to her parents and having to leave her brothers with strangers. But she had committed to go, so that night she packed her things and met up with the others.”
CHAPTER 17
> > >
From the corner apartment, Adie and her young companion peered out across the field toward the treeline. Four men stood ready to remove the window and lower them to the ground. Her eye still showed some swelling, with a pronounced oblong bruise extending from the center of her forehead to her left temple. She wore a dark hooded upper garment with matching eye patch and charcoal gray trousers. Her boots, donated by another family, fit well and were in excellent condition.
“Adie, you will be first,” one of the men said. He passed her the looped end of a heavy rope. “Put this over your head and under your arms with the knot in the back. Keep the rope high across your chest. Drop your arms tightly against your sides and clasp your hands across your waist. When it’s time, David and I will set you on the windowsill. Don’t worry, we will be there to keep you steady. Then we will lift you and place you against the outside wall, and these other men will lower you to the ground. Use your elbows and legs to keep yourself facing out. Do you understand?”
Adie gave a nod.
He noted her resolute posture and focused expression. “You look brave…. You make me feel proud. You make us all proud.”
“Thank you,” she said, continuing to eye the moonlit treeline some fifty yards away.
At exactly half past one, the first shots rang out.
“That seems close,” observed one of the men. “Much closer than I would have thought.”
A number of pronounced explosions followed, the concussions rattling the apartment. Rifle fire picked up again and intensified.
Using stolen gasoline, men set fire to the building on the opposite corner of the ghetto. The blaze accelerated quickly and began to cast a dim, flickering light on the trees across from Adie’s window. Soldiers were shouting and running through the streets toward the burning building. Some began firing in the direction of the explosions.
In the upper apartments, everyone stood silent—poised and ready. Then, from the woods, a small light flashed three times in rapid succession.
“That’s it,” one man said. “Let’s go.”
They removed the wedges from the window frame, slid the window free, and placed it against the side wall. Then, straddling the opening, they helped Adie into position and dropped her rucksack to the ground. Once ready, each man grabbed an arm and carefully swung her out and down, her back against the wall. The two men holding the rope briskly lowered her to the ground. She slipped the rope off, grabbed her rucksack, and dashed for the trees with the other three teens close behind. Pesche briefly stepped into the open and motioned Adie in his direction.
Her heart racing, she approached and hugged him tightly. “Thank you...thank you for this,” she said in muted tones.
“Yes, yes, young one, but we must be quiet now and wait for the others.”
Minutes later, all eight youths were present: Two girls and six boys. The partisans checked them for injuries, and finding none, led them off into the darkness to the north.
# # #
“Okay!” Merrick said, relieved. “Finally things are looking up. Twelve people, though—that’s an awfully big group to hide.”
“Yes, but they only traveled that way for a short time,” Ari said. “Just before dawn, they reached a fork in the trail and split into two groups. Adie and three of the boys went with Pesche and another man. They traveled three days to the northwest, skirted the western shore of Lake Balaton, then continued another three days to a partisan camp hidden in a large, forested area. The other group went around the opposite end of the lake to a camp some distance beyond. I had ops monitor their progress. They made it just fine.”
“So, how did everyone survive and keep out of sight?”
Ari nodded. “While on the trail, Pesche spent time teaching them how to evade the Germans. He was familiar with the territory between Kopasvar and Czechoslovakia and was able to take advantage of abandoned farmhouses, barns, and families sympathetic to their cause. Plus, it was late spring, so food was plentiful.
“Now, a week before the escape, Pesche had walked the same trail for a full day to meet with a partisan commander. After some money exchanged hands, the commander guaranteed the children’s safe passage. He also sent word on to the next partisan unit.”
Merrick raised an eyebrow. “So that’s how they did it—sent word ahead.”
“Absolutely. It kept them from being mistaken for German collaborators. Typically, a sentry would meet them on the trail and escort them into camp. Then, the next morning, they were escorted out."
“The children were Jewish, though. I assume that was okay with the partisans?”
Ari shook his head. “Not necessarily...Anti-Semitism was widespread, and partisans were no exception. Pesche warned Adie and the others not to discuss their Jewish background. For both groups of children, the men had purposely selected units with Jewish members, so when the children finally reached their destinations, the partisans accepted them without issue. Adie went straight to work as the cook’s assistant, and the boys were assigned as foragers.”
Merrick checked his wrist display. “Oh brother, I nearly forgot. We have Bible study in an hour. I need to go over my notes.”
Ari grimaced. “That completely slipped my mind…. This is probably a good stopping point, anyway. I think a couple more sessions and you should be up to date.”
They met at the same time, four days later.
CHAPTER 18
“Not long after the young people arrived at the camp,” said Ari, “two partisans stopped in from Czechoslovakia to visit relatives. Their unit’s cook had been arrested by the Nazis, and they were lamenting the loss. As it turns out, Adie’s commander overheard the exchange, and after some deliberation, told them that he was quite happy with his cook, and they were welcome to take Adie back with them. Actually, I think he just saw Adie as another mouth to feed, but regardless, two days later she was off to Czechoslovakia. Now, to Pesche, this was welcome news as he had been planning to return home anyway. Their destination was a Czech camp in the Tatra Mountains—three hard weeks on the trail.”
“That’s quite some hike,” Merrick said.
“Well, it was difficult, and Adie was homesick. Nevertheless, after two weeks her endurance improved and the depression began to ease. They reached the camp near the end of the third week.”
Ari presented a brief sequence showing the partisan command post and surrounding countryside.
———————
The Czech unit consisted of nearly one hundred fighters. They had set up their command post in a large cave, half way up the east side of a narrow ravine. The terrain was rocky, and an outcropping shielded the cave from the valley below. Beyond the entrance and farther up the mountain, the ravine split in three directions, providing multiple escape routes in the event of trouble. Less than a quarter of the unit’s members occupied the cave at any one time. Guard duty, foraging, and skirmishes with the Germans kept the majority of partisans busy elsewhere. The cave residents typically included the senior staff, a dozen fighters, and support personnel.
———————
“Shortly after arriving in camp,” said Ari, “they were surprised to discover the unit had already taken on a cook. Even so, no one complained about the new arrival. I think Adie’s injury and the accompanying story may have helped. Anyway, the commander assigned her two duties: cook’s helper and medic’s assistant. As it turned out, the cook was decidedly territorial, so Adie spent most of her time with the medic, who was happy to have her and used every medical incident
as a training exercise.”
“With so many people,” said Merrick, “where did they get their supplies, like food and clothing?”
“The mountains did make life interesting,” replied Ari. “Most of their support came from local farmers and townspeople, though the towns were some distance away. Oddly enough, the Germans supplied some things, unwittingly of course. Skirmishes and ambushes were a ready source of weapons, clothing, and other things. Also, a few months before Adie arrived, the Russians had begun airdropping supplies to resistance fighters all over Eastern Europe.”
———————
Airdrops took place in a narrow valley not far from the command post. The planes came in at treetop level, perpendicular to the valley. Then, as they cleared the first ridge, they released their payload. The parachutes barely had time to deploy before the containers struck the ground on the opposite slope. Steep terrain and dense forest rendered the drops virtually unobservable except for a single partisan sentry posted on a nearby outcropping.
———————
“So what were they dropping?” Merrick asked.
“Things you would expect—weapons, blankets, medical supplies, and such. Oh, they did get one drop from an American bomber. The Allies had made several attempts to destroy a tank factory some distance to the north. It seems on one occasion the sentries got a crew’s attention, and a few days later a plane dropped two containers. One held three machine guns...like they use in the mobster movies...some ammunition and plastic explosives. The other was full of canned food and medical supplies...even a few surgical instruments. The morphine was particularly appreciated.”
“So how did these people get by with just a medic—what about gunshot wounds?”
“Well, doctors were scarce. Most partisan units just had to make-do and treat the wounded themselves. Fortunately, Viktor, the medic Adie worked with, was experienced and fairly well supplied.”
———————
Viktor was plain looking and average in height. He wore a navy blue sweater with dark green trousers and German officer’s boots that reached mid-calf. A Panzer field cap did little to contain his shoulder-length hair. He seemed old at twenty-eight, the war having taken its toll. And though he enjoyed the company of others, at times he was honest to the point of heartlessness. Yet he was highly valued and well respected.
———————
Ari cued another sequence.
“Not long after Adie arrived,” said Ari, “several freedom-fighters were caught in a skirmish with a German patrol. Eventually the fighters were able to outflank and destroy the Germans, but they suffered three casualties in the process. The injured were carried back to camp on horseback. One died along the way. The others’ wounds were not life threatening but needed immediate attention. The fighters sent a rider ahead to alert the medic.”
> > >
It was a pleasant day. Viktor and Adie stood outside the cave as the partisans made their way up the ravine.
“You have a problem with blood?” Viktor asked.
“I don’t think so,” Adie said, somewhat hesitant.
“That’s good, because this may be a little messy.”
Before long, the horses drew close, and Viktor stepped away to receive them. “Put these men over there,” he said, pointing to the stretchers just inside the treeline. He followed them over and began to assess the wounds.
Adie joined him. “Are they going to be all right?”
Viktor’s tone was callous. “Not that one, he’s gone.” Blood covered the man’s upper torso. “Shot through the neck...very bad—shoulder and side, too. But the neck, that’s the one that killed him.” Viktor shifted his attention to the other men—one unconscious, the other alert and wincing in pain from a graze to the head. “These two should be fine.”
Adie frowned. “But that one’s knocked out.”
“He’s just lost a little blood—leg wound—bullet went clean through.” Viktor passed her a cloth. “Here, why don’t you soak this and clean that head wound while I see to this man’s leg?” He described the procedure in detail for Adie’s benefit. “I’m doing a general cleaning of the wound. I see the bullet cut a clean hole in his trousers, so I am checking the wound for debris. Sometimes the bullet will carry...uh-huh...as I thought—a small piece of cloth about an inch inside the bullet hole. Okay, now I will disinfect and apply the dressing.”
When finished, Viktor helped the fighters move the injured men into the cave and then rejoined Adie under the trees. He unrolled a heavy cloth containing a selection of surgical tools. “Compliments of our American friends,” he said and began to explain their uses.
Adie listened attentively, periodically glancing over at the dead man.
Sensing her discomfort, Viktor said, “You know, if it were me lying there, I don’t think I would like to go to the grave with bullets inside. What do you say we help this poor fellow?” He passed her a probe. “Here, give it a try? I’ll talk you through.”
Adie’s discomfort quickly turned to dread. “I don’t know if I can—”
“Don’t worry, you can’t hurt him now. He’s beyond all that…. Look, I’m the only medic in this unit. If I am away—or worse, if I am killed, you will be the only one left to take care of these people. If you can do this work, things will be much better for everyone. You must decide. Do you want to learn this, or would you prefer to help the cook?”
Adie reluctantly gave in, and Viktor carefully guided her through the extractions.
“Nicely done,” he said as she removed the final bullet. “If those were his only two wounds, I think he might still be with us.”
Adie passed Viktor the forceps. “These tools...this would be difficult—”
“Just about impossible without them,” Viktor interjected. “Now, why don’t we clean him up? Then you can show me how you would disinfect and dress the wounds. You’ll have to use your imagination, though. We can’t afford to waste the supplies.”
# # #
“I thought she handled that fairly well,” Merrick said.
Ari gave a nod. “Indeed—and the very next week she had the opportunity to put those skills to the test.”
Merrick shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Why would the medic allow that—seems risky?”
“She didn’t have a choice,” Ari said. “Viktor was out helping a partisan unit several miles away and took most of the surgical instruments with him. All he left Adie was a probe and a pair of long forceps.”
“So, what happened?”
“About a half dozen members of Adie’s unit were ambushed on their way to town. Fortunately, the Germans were firing from a distance and on the opposite side of a river. The partisans managed to escape, but two were wounded in the process—one mortally. Men from a nearby unit came to their aid and loaned them a few mules to carry the wounded back to camp. I thought you might want to see how Adie handled it.”
> > >
Large raindrops slapped incessantly on the rocks outside the cave. Inside, Adie was assisting the cook with the evening meal. The room darkened, and both women turned to see a figure standing at the entrance.
“Injured coming in,” the sentry announced. “Just got a signal from the valley. Looks like two.”
Adie glanced at the cook. “May I use that pan of boiling water? I’ll need to sterilize a few things.” With the cook’s approval, Adie retrieved the probe and forceps from across the room, dropped them into the pot, and joined the sentry at the entrance. “We need a couple of those stretchers in here,” she said, pointing to the treeline.
The sentry walked into an adjoining room and returned with another guard. “We’ll get them.”
Adie followed the men outside.
Small figures were making their way up the ravine from the valley below. As they came closer, she could make out four people on foot leading two mules—their lifeless human burdens draped over their saddles. She stepped back into the cave as the guards returned with the str
etchers.
“I’ll need those over there by the torches,” she said.
The men complied, and the sentry returned to his post.
Adie asked the other guard if he would find some men to help move the wounded to the stretchers.
Minutes later, she heard the sound of hoofs approaching the entrance. The partisans, exhausted and soaked to the bone, waited in the rain until the guards carried in their wounded comrades.
After looking the men over, Adie declared one man dead. He had taken a single bullet in his side which had passed through his rib cage and into his upper chest—no exit wound. The other man, who looked to be in his late thirties, was unconscious. Adie took his pulse and respiration. She found two bullet wounds: one high on his chest just under his right collarbone. The other had passed through the rear portion of his left arm just above the elbow and entered his side. Taking a shallow path through the back of his rib cage, it had come to rest just under the skin—a bullet-sized bump about an inch from his backbone. Adie moved quickly to treat and pack the wounds.
One of the partisans, barely a teenager, haltingly approached the injured man. At first glance, Adie thought the boy’s face was wet with rain, but noticed his eyes were red and swollen—the dampness, not rain, but tears. “What is it?” she asked the boy. “Do you know him?”
The boy began to cry. “He’s my papa.”
Adie’s emotions stirred. “Well, for goodness sake! Why didn’t someone tell me?” She stood up to console him. After a moment she excused herself and stepped across the chamber to the cook. “Leona, I didn’t realize this was the injured man’s son. Would you mind distracting him while I try to remove these bullets?”
With a brief nod, the cook walked over to address the boy. “Say, you look cold. Why don’t you come over by the fire and warm up? I’ll fix you a potato.... Don’t worry about your papa. He’s in good hands.”
Adie approached the man’s comrades in search of a sharp knife. Finding one, she returned to the boiling water, removed the surgical tools, and dropped the knife in. She then called one of the partisans over to assist with the surgery.
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