We Shall Remember

by Emma Fraser

  She was proud of her countrymen and women. They’d held out as long as they could. Hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of people had answered the call to defend Warsaw – digging ditches and building walls in a desperate attempt to keep the enemy out. And all this while they’d been slowly starving. Before the German attack, the Polish government had urged Varsovians not to hoard food and in the last couple of weeks Warsaw had been without food, water or electricity. At the hospital, they’d been forced to carry out operations and treat the sick and dying by candlelight and with limited medical supplies and no anaesthetic. It’d been clear they couldn’t carry on for much longer so it was almost a relief when the Germans had arrived.

  Perhaps now the worst had happened they could get back to some sort of normality? At least the incessant bombing and artillery fire had stopped, although large swathes of Warsaw lay in ruins and almost every inch of the parks was taken up with makeshift graves.

  The drumming of German boots and the sounds of their tanks and armoured cars was almost deafening. There were so many of them. Row upon endless row of fresh-faced soldiers goose-stepped behind their mounted officers who rode at the head of the column. Unbelievably, some of those watching cheered – and not just cheered but threw flowers in the path of the soldiers. Did they think a few flowers would make the Germans treat them better? Or were these the Poles of German descent? She recalled what Piotr had told her about the ethnic Germans that had been massacred by a group of Polish civilians. She still couldn’t bear to think it was true. Despite the repeated partitioning of Poland, the ever-changing boundaries, German and Pole had lived in peace and harmony for years. Some of their German neighbours even had sons, husbands and brothers in the Polish army.

  She was about to turn away in disgust when a girl, perhaps a year or two younger than her, broke free from the line bordering the street and ran into the path of the marching soldiers and screamed at them. Irena couldn’t make out the words, but judging by the twisted expression of hate on the girl’s face, this was no welcoming greeting.

  A man about the same age rushed towards her and, grabbing her arm, tried to lead her away. But she wasn’t having it. Irena was proud of her; she was doing what most of them, the cheering masses excepted, wanted to do – tell the Germans what they thought of them and their conquering army. But the girl should be careful. The soldiers might arrest her.

  Her companion was clearly trying to reason with the Germans, his arms held open as if to say, She’s upset, you can imagine, she’s lost her brother, her father, she’s not well. I’ll take care of her, she won’t bother you again.

  The marching soldiers halted. It was obvious no one knew what to do.

  At the front of the column, a motor car with two officers stopped and the driver looked back.

  ‘Go,’ Irena whispered as if the girl could hear her. ‘You’ve made your point.’

  The motor car turned and drove back along the line of soldiers until it reached the couple. The German officer in the passenger seat stood up and said something to the girl. But she shook her head and let loose a stream of what was clearly invective.

  Her friend looked horrified. He pulled her to the side, almost lifting her from her feet. She was pretty, with a turned-up nose and full red lips.

  Without warning the officer raised his arm and shot the man in the forehead.

  He crumpled to the ground. The girl gaped at him, her face frozen.

  Almost in slow motion she lifted her gaze to the officer, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

  ‘Run!’ Although Irena screamed the words, there was no chance the girl could hear her. The watching bystanders stepped back as if to say they have nothing to do with us. Some turned their heads. The shouts had turned to a low, fearful murmuring.

  The girl looked around, as if expecting someone from the crowd to do something. Then the officer, a small smile on his face, lifted his arm again and pointed the gun at her forehead. Irena wanted to close her eyes, wanted to turn away, but she couldn’t. The officer’s arm jerked once and the girl folded.

  The officer holstered his pistol and said a few words to the soldiers who were watching impassively. Two detached themselves from the column and dragged the girl to the side. Then they picked up the man and threw him on top of her. He landed on his back, his arms and legs splayed wide as if in surrender.

  Then, still in perfect lines, the soldiers continued to march.

  Chapter 8

  The execution of the young couple was only a foretaste of what life under occupation was to be like for Warsaw – one of oppression and fear. A Nazi-controlled Central Government was formed and soon after that posters appeared on every wall, telling the citizens of Warsaw what they could and could not do. Anyone failing to adhere to the laws would be punished by immediate execution. Yesterday Irena had seen an execution notice naming a fifteen-year-old girl. Her crime? She had ripped a German poster from the wall.

  Her death had not gone unavenged. Four German soldiers were mown down in the street. The Nazis had been swift to react, rounding up and executing a hundred civilians in return. Although Irena hated everything about the Nazis and was glad the Poles were fighting back, she couldn’t accept that killing one German was worth the death of so many innocent people.

  Refugees flooded in from territories occupied by the Germans and the areas annexed by the Russians. Many who came to the hospital seeking treatment told stories of being ordered to leave their homes with only the clothes on their backs. Everyone walked around with a stunned look on their faces. How could this have happened? How could this have happened so quickly? The universities and schools remained closed and they’d introduced rationing to below subsistence level – a mere 600 calories a day.

  The Jews’ situation was worse. Their food rations were half that of the other Poles. They weren’t permitted to enter shops and had to register their businesses and homes with the German authorities. Notices appeared on the gates of all the parks forbidding Jews from entering them and they were even forbidden to sit on benches or walk on the pavement. Wehrmacht soldiers often stopped the orthodox Jews and made them stand while they snipped off their side locks, the small act of needless cruelty amusing their tormentors greatly. Adding to their humiliation, every Jewish man, woman and child over the age of ten had to wear a white armband with a blue Star of David.

  But despite everything, daily life was slowly returning to a semblance of normality. People shopped, or at least queued, for what little food was available. Electricity had been restored, the hospitals continued to function and the trains and trams were running again. Irena’s father had been summoned by the professors of the Jagiellonian University in Krakow for a meeting. He’d left yesterday, promising to return as soon as he could.

  Now she was on her own. Krystiana hadn’t come in the last few days and, with Tata away, Irena missed her comforting presence. Krystiana had sent a note saying that she’d be back as soon as she could, but in the meantime Irena wasn’t to worry. But she did. She worried all the time. She was scared all the time. Scared for herself, for Piotr, for Aleksy, for everyone she loved – and for Poland. It was as if she had a permanent band of steel around her chest. But almost stronger than her fear was her growing hatred for the Nazis, which no amount of praying lessened. Since the brutal slaying of the young couple she was filled with a restlessness as well as a burning need for revenge that left a sour taste in her mouth.

  She hadn’t heard from Magdalena since the occupation and constantly worried about her friend. If something had happened to her during the bombardment of Warsaw, she couldn’t bear it. It was a waste of time to try to telephone as most of the lines were still down, so at the first opportunity, Irena took a day off from the hospital to visit Magdalena and her mother. Luckily she still had the car Elżbieta had lent her and it had just enough petrol left in it to make the journey.

  As soon as she turned into the driveway, foreboding washed over her. The once immaculate grounds were overgrown wi
th weeds and a shutter was hanging loose from one of the upstairs windows.

  Her dismay deepened as her friend, hair tangled around a face devoid of make-up, hurried out to meet her. Magdalena never left her bedroom until she was perfectly groomed but it wasn’t just her disarray that alarmed Irena – no doubt most of them took less care with their dress than they had before the war – it was the Star of David armband she was wearing.

  ‘Any word of Aleksy?’ they said together, after they’d kissed and hugged then, realising that neither could have news, they linked arms and started walking towards the house.

  ‘What about Piotr? Have you heard from him?’ Magdalena asked.

  Irena shook her head. ‘I’m praying he was one of the soldiers who managed to escape over the border.’

  ‘Do you really think they both could have made it?’

  She didn’t, but there was nothing to be gained by sharing her doubts with her friend. ‘If anyone could it would be them. What about your father?’

  ‘We haven’t heard anything. Mama keeps looking out for him as if he’ll just come striding up to the front door one day.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I’m so scared, Irena – so scared for all of us.’

  Irena pulled Magdalena closer and for a moment they stood holding each other. She was frightened too. And even more so now she’d seen the star on Magdalena’s arm.

  ‘Why on earth are you wearing that?’ she asked, pointing to it. ‘You’re not Jewish.’

  ‘It’s ridiculous,’ Magdalena said, frowning. ‘You know how we all had to register so we could be issued with ration books?’

  Irena nodded.

  ‘Mother and I went along and they asked her all sorts of questions. They kept referring to some documents they had in front of them. They demanded to know about Mama’s parents. I didn’t know but Mama’s mother was born a Jewess and according to the Germans that makes Mama and me Jewish.’

  ‘Did you try to argue?’

  ‘Of course. I told them we were Roman Catholics and if our crucifixes couldn’t convince them, our priest would. That neither me nor Mama had ever so much as stepped inside a synagogue, never mind celebrated Jewish holidays. Heavens, we don’t even know when they are! But they wouldn’t listen. One of them hinted that if Mama kept on complaining he’d arrest her. Isn’t it crazy?’

  It was more than crazy, it was terrifying. Given the way the Jews in Warsaw were being treated, to be classified as one was dangerous.

  ‘There is talk that they are taking the best houses for themselves. A group of Germans have already been here to look at ours. I think they liked it.’

  Dear God.

  ‘Where are the servants?’ Irena asked.

  Magdalena twisted a lock of hair between her fingers. ‘Oh, they left. Ages ago.’

  ‘All of them?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Magdalena’s mother came down the steps and tilted her cheek for Irena to kiss.

  ‘Magdalena tells me you haven’t heard from the colonel,’ Irena said, after Elżbieta had asked about Aleksy and Piotr.

  Elżbieta shook her head. ‘No. We hope he’s safe somewhere. We hear that the Russians have taken many of our officers to camps in Siberia.’ She plucked at her cardigan and shivered. ‘It’s so cold here, how will they manage there where it is so much colder? He only has his greatcoat to keep him warm. Do you think they’ll supply them with something warmer? If he would write and let me know where he is, I could send him some things, a food parcel perhaps.’

  Magdalena glanced at her mother. ‘And where, Mama, would you get the food to send him?’

  She turned to Irena. ‘Luckily we’re still getting some eggs from our chickens. I’ll give you some to take with you when you go. We’re living on eggs and jars of pickled cucumber these days.’

  Distracted, Irena nodded. Magdalena and her mother weren’t coping well. The family was too used to having servants to cater for their every whim. Without them, or the colonel, they seemed lost, smaller almost. ‘Maybe you should hide the car in a barn or something?’ she suggested. ‘You might have it taken if you don’t.’

  Elżbieta shrugged. ‘Even if we could drive, we have no petrol. You might as well keep it.’

  ‘You could sell it. I’ve heard that people are bartering cars for carts and food. Perhaps you could do the same. In fact, you should hide any valuables or money that you have, while you can.’

  Yet another of the decrees forbade Poles – and in particular the Polish Jews – from keeping more than a few zloty. The rest, they were told, should be deposited in German banks. How stupid did they think they were?

  ‘I’ll wait until Colonel Ĺaski comes home,’ Magdalena’s mother said. ‘He’ll know what to do for the best.’

  Irena glanced at Magdalena and raised her eyebrows but her friend just returned her look with a sad smile. She waited until her mother had gone into the house before saying, ‘She won’t accept that Tata might never return. She can’t believe that all this won’t be over soon. I find it best to humour her. Maybe if we stay here quietly, mind our own business, give the Germans everything they want, they will leave us alone.’

  ‘I don’t think they’ll do that,’ Irena said urgently. ‘They’re rounding up people at random in Warsaw and taking them to God knows where. Don’t you have anyone who can help you get out of Poland?’

  ‘Mama won’t leave as long as she believes Tata might return and I won’t go without Aleksy.’

  Irena grabbed her friend’s arm, acutely aware as she felt the bone through the flesh of how painfully thin her friend had become.

  ‘People are saying that large numbers of our pilots escaped to France and are continuing the fight there. We must believe Aleksy is amongst them. If he is, he’ll want you to do whatever you can to survive.’

  Magdalena smiled faintly. ‘We’ll be safe if we stay here quietly and don’t draw attention to ourselves. Now why don’t you come and have some lunch with us?’

  ‘Sweet Mary in Heaven, Madzia, remember Kristallnacht! The same thing could happen here. There must be a reason the Nazis are singling out the Jews. They’re making even the old people work – making them dig pointless ditches. They’ve forbidden them to use the parks or benches or trams. The Nazis hate the Jews. You should leave. Today! Now! You can stay with me. My apartment is small but we’ll manage.’ She drew a shuddering breath. ‘If your mama won’t, you must.’

  Magdalena lifted her chin. ‘Leave Mama? On her own? It’s out of the question.’

  ‘You have money – use it to get away. Go to France, Hungary, anywhere where you’ll be safe.’

  Magdalena raised her hand towards the house. ‘Can you imagine Mama anywhere but here? It’s her home. We are landowners, Irena. We have responsibilities. We don’t run away.’

  ‘But what if they take your lands and home for themselves?’

  ‘They can have the lands. We’ll get them back when they leave. And what will anyone do with a house this size? I am certain they’ll allow Mama and me to remain in one of the wings.’

  Irena shook her head. She could see it was hopeless. Magdalena had always been stubborn in her own quiet way.

  She spent the rest of the afternoon with them, trying to convince them to go into hiding, but both Magdalena and her mother were adamant that they wouldn’t be going anywhere. The worst was over, Elżbieta kept insisting. However, Irena couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding she’d felt when she’d first arrived. There had to be a reason that the Nazis were singling out the Jews. Didn’t Elżbieta and Magdalena realise that the Jews in Berlin had been executed just because they were Jews? Who was to say that the same wouldn’t happen here? But she shook the thought away. Why would the Nazis do the same to the Jews of Poland? It was inconceivable. There were too many for a start and what would they gain by it? They already had what they wanted. No, perhaps Magdalena was right. Maybe it was safer here than in Warsaw. As long as everyone kept their heads down and out of the way of the Nazis, they would be all righ
t.

  Chapter 9

  However, life under occupation only got worse. The Germans tried to tempt the Poles, with promises of increased rations, to work for the Reich in their factories, but news came back about the terrible working conditions and soon there were no more volunteers.

  So the Nazis took to forcing them; selecting people at random. In one day alone they rounded up almost twenty thousand Poles, herded them into trucks at the point of a gun, and drove them away. They’d heard that the men had been sent to forced-labour camps and the women – most of them between the ages of seventeen and twenty-five – to East Prussia as agricultural labour.

  Irena returned to Magdalena’s home once more, hoping to make her friend understand that the situation was getting ever more desperate.