by Ella Zeiss
Anna bit her lip. It was incredible how easily pleased they were after only one week of doing without. She fetched a bowl, crumbled some bread into it and then poured on water from the samovar.
Wilhelm put his arms around her and held her while they took it in turns to eat. ‘We should try and get some sleep now,’ he said when they had finished. ‘Who knows what’ll happen tomorrow.’
‘There isn’t any room,’ she answered sadly.
Wilhelm stood up and looked around. ‘We can sort that out,’ he said at last.
‘What are you going to do?’ Anna asked as she watched him slowly climb onto the bunk.
‘The bunk above ours is empty. We can put our bags up there as long as it’s not occupied.’
Anna followed him up. She had played with the same idea briefly herself, but hadn’t dared, not wanting to get into trouble. ‘We’re not allowed to do that,’ she whispered.
‘Says who?’
‘They said one bunk per family.’
‘We’ll remove our things as soon as more resettlers come. Until then we can at least get some sleep.’
He was right, so she helped him move the suitcases up a bunk, then they repositioned the sleeping children. Anna went next to the wall to ward off the cold that was coming in from the outside, then came the girls, and finally Erich and Wilhelm on the edge to stop the children from rolling out of bed in the night.
Anna and Wilhelm pulled the blankets over them all and cuddled up to the children as tight as they could.
‘Good night, darling,’ Wilhelm whispered quietly, reaching out to squeeze her hand.
‘Sleep well, Willi,’ she whispered, and stroked his fingers gently, then she closed her eyes and tried to put today’s tension and excitement behind her, but despite her tiredness, she couldn’t. The sounds of all the people sleeping in the hut, all the coughing and snoring and subdued crying, kept her awake along with her own thoughts.
During the journey on the train, she had accepted and grown used to having no privacy whatsoever, but had always assumed it was temporary. Now she had to face what lay ahead – there would be no private quarters for them, no apartment of their own, and no way of escaping the ever-present cold creeping through the cracks. The single stove for the whole hut was little more than a joke.
Anna pulled the blanket under her chin and fought back the tears threatening to overwhelm her as she remembered the cosy house they had left behind.
But this was their life now, her new home, and there was no point wasting time on memories of things that were gone forever. She would have to make the best of the situation.
Chapter 6
Anna woke up because something painful was digging into her ribs. She opened her eyes and realised it was Yvo’s knee. Anna sighed. She felt drained.
‘Get up, Mama!’ Yvo’s little hand grabbed her shoulder, trying to make her sit up.
‘All right, all right,’ Anna laughed, and gently unwound the child’s fingers. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Yes. Is it time for breakfast?’ The girl looked at her in anticipation.
‘In a minute, darling,’ Anna said, tiredly brushing the sleep from her eyes. In the grey light of the hut, she could see that most of the new arrivals were still asleep. Only Natalya was tending to the stove, her husband and the other three men nowhere to be seen.
Anna would dearly have liked to know what time it was. It was still dark outside, but because she didn’t know the hour of sunrise this far north, that wasn’t any help.
‘Mama?’ Yvo persisted, and she finally nodded.
Anna lifted the small child onto her back and carefully climbed down. Wilhelm drowsily opened an eye, but she shook her head. He might as well stay sleeping a little longer. He was bound to need all his strength later.
She set Yvo down on the ground, then climbed back up again to fetch their cooking gear and the supplies Wilhelm had bought.
She broke off a piece of bread for Yvo to chew while she started preparing a watery potato soup. Without any cream or sour cream, it wouldn’t taste anywhere near as good as at home, but it was a feast compared to the rations of the last few days. She decided to keep the potato skins for later; she’d boil them this afternoon to make the water taste of something for a change.
‘We cook outside,’ said Natalya, not mincing her words when Anna approached the stove uncertainly. ‘My Fjedja should have made a fire by now.’
‘Thank you. Come on, Yvo.’
‘The little ’un can stay with me if you like,’ the woman suddenly offered. ‘It’s cold outside.’
‘Thank you.’ Anna noticed the longing in Natalya’s eyes. ‘Do you have any children?’
Natalya chewed her lip bitterly. ‘I had children once. A girl just like her, and a boy.’
Anna lowered her eyes. She didn’t need to ask what had happened, and she didn’t want to know either.
Natalya wasn’t exaggerating. It was freezing outside. Anna pulled her knitted hat down over her face and hurried over to the blazing fire. There was a metal frame over it with hooks for pots. As there was no water, she hurriedly threw several handfuls of snow over her peeled potatoes and then hung the pot over the fire. Once the snow had melted, she took out the packet of salt that Wilhelm had bought in Luza and sprinkled a little into her soup.
At last she stretched out her cold hands towards the fire. They had been here a single day and already she felt as if she would never be warm again, and yet the winter had only just begun. How tiring it was having to wear a coat all the time, even in bed. How Anna would have loved to have a bath and put on clean things.
She checked to make sure that the soup was simmering and then went back into the hut and looked around for Natalya. The woman was playing with Yvo in front of the stove. As Anna approached, her daughter beamed at her in delight.
‘Look, Mama, a horse!’ Proudly she held out a roughly carved little rocking horse.
‘Fjedja made that a long time ago,’ Natalya said, tears glittering in her eyes. ‘It’s lovely to see another child playing with it.’
Anna swallowed and refused to imagine what it must be like to lose your own children. ‘Thank you for letting her play with it,’ she said. ‘Will you give it back to the kind lady now, darling?’ she went on, turning to Yvo.
The little girl started complaining, but Anna gently loosened her fingers and took away the toy. She could easily imagine all the memories Natalya must associate with it.
‘It’s all right,’ Natalya started to say, but Anna had made up her mind.
‘You can play with it again another time,’ Anna told her daughter, handing back the little wooden figure.
Natalya smiled sadly as she held it in her fingers, gently stroking the polished wood.
Behind her, Anna could hear more and more people stirring. Yvo saw Maria’s daughter Ruth and let go of her mother’s hand to run over to her playmate. Anna smiled as she watched her go, then turned back to Natalya, who was also about to leave. ‘No, wait, please,’ she said, holding her back.
The other woman stopped, waiting for her question.
‘Is there anywhere to wash clothes or bathe?’
She nodded. ‘It’s washday tomorrow. There’s only one tub big enough. It gets passed around the barracks from one hut to the next. It’s our turn tomorrow.’
‘Thank you.’ The thought of being fresh and clean lifted Anna’s spirits considerably.
‘I’m glad to help but you should eat now. Work starts early here.’
Anna smiled as she said goodbye and ran outside to check on her soup. Two more pots were now hanging over the fire, filled with similarly meagre fare. Anna stirred the lumps of potato, pleased to see that they were done. Tugging her sleeve down to lift the hot handle from the hook, she then ran into the hut with breakfast for her family. Wilhelm had already gathered the children and Anna quickly mashed the potatoes and mixed them with the cooking water before pouring the soup into the bowls being held out hungrily.
&nbs
p; A look of delight flashed across Wilhelm’s face when he took his first bite. ‘You’re simply amazing, you do realise that?’
Anna smiled. She knew exactly how he was feeling. She felt as though she had never eaten anything better than these simple potatoes and salt water.
They had only just finished eating when the door was pulled open and several men wearing heavy winter coats, fur hats and boots entered the hut.
‘All the men line up here!’ one of them started shouting in a loud voice. ‘Women with children up to three years, and all children of fifteen or under, over there.’ He pointed to a spot near the stove. ‘The other women line up behind the men.’
Such coarse words spoken by someone used to commanding people instantly put an end to the almost relaxed atmosphere that had existed among the resettlers this morning. There was a growing buzz of scared voices, and children suddenly separated from their mothers started to cry.
Wilhelm calmly kissed Anna on the cheek and grabbed his new coat.
‘Wait!’ she called frantically. She climbed up to their bags and quickly started rummaging through. She hadn’t had time to make the insoles for his boots but she wasn’t about to let him go outside without any again. She felt a woollen scarf and she thanked God that she had remembered to pack it. She could well remember all the effort that had gone into knitting the intricate pattern in the white and grey angora wool, but didn’t hesitate a moment before grabbing her scissors and cutting it right down the middle. She would sew up the ends in the evening to stop the stitches from running, but it would have to do for now. ‘Here,’ she said, throwing the two pieces down to Wilhelm. ‘Wrap these around your feet, like Natalya told us yesterday. Do you hear?’
He nodded slowly. As he stared at the pieces of scarf in his hands, she knew what he must be thinking. She had been so proud when she showed him this scarf just before she told him that she was expecting Erich. She had wrapped her newborn son in it the following January when she went outdoors with him, but they had to set priorities, and right now Wilhelm needed it more than anyone. If she was right, he would be spending the whole day working outside.
‘Take care,’ she whispered, hugging Wilhelm tightly.
‘You too,’ he said.
She watched him make his way through the crowd of waiting people to line up in the gang.
One of the men inspected the row of people, checking everyone off on a list. Anna shared a long look with Wilhelm before she took the children over to the place where they had been told to wait. Maria appeared beside her holding Ruth’s hand and she nodded to her friend.
‘Anna!’ a desperate voice called behind her.
Surprised, she stopped and looked around. Martha was forcing her way through the crowd with her son, looking beside herself with fear and worry. ‘Would you look after Friedrich, please?’
‘Of course!’ Anna bent down to the boy and took his hand.
‘You remember Tante Anna, don’t you, darling?’ Martha said to him encouragingly.
‘You can play with Rita and Erich while your mama is busy,’ Anna said.
The boy nodded and cautiously let go of his mother. Anna couldn’t believe how small and skinny he was.
The loaf of bread! she suddenly remembered. She hadn’t given it to Martha yet and the woman was far too timid to ask.
‘Take the children,’ she said to Maria. ‘I’ll be back in a moment.’ Then she turned back to Martha. ‘Come with me,’ she said, pulling Friedrich along too. ‘Here.’ She opened the rucksack with their provisions and handed her the loaf of bread. ‘You’d already gone to sleep yesterday and we didn’t want to wake you.’
‘Thank you.’ Carefully Martha broke off a piece. ‘Please give the rest to Friedrich, OK?’
‘Don’t worry, we won’t let him starve,’ Anna interrupted her. She broke off another chunk of bread and put it in Martha’s bag. ‘You’ll need all the strength you can get.’
The woman nodded bravely and joined the nearly fully assembled work gang. The middle aisle was empty, everyone was where they were supposed to be, and Anna hurried to her children.
With a sinking heart she watched the work gang set off. Apart from the men, there were two boys who could be no older than sixteen or seventeen, as well as four women and a young girl holding on to her mother’s hand. Most of them weren’t dressed appropriately and Anna hoped very much that they would be given coats and boots before they were forced to work in the woods.
The door was slammed behind them then and the Commander turned towards the women and children. Their names were called and they were asked to state their abilities and say how old their children were.
‘Anna Scholz,’ she said by way of introduction when it was her turn, ‘and these are my children, Erich and Yvonne.’
‘Date of birth?’
‘The 17th of September 1902,’ she said. ‘Erich was born on the 10th of January 1922, Yvo on the 5th of October 1927.’
‘What about the other child?’ The man pointed at Rita, who was clinging to Anna’s leg.
‘This is Rita Hamann. She’s an orphan under our care.’
‘Orphan?’ The man looked at her disapprovingly. ‘Shouldn’t she be in an orphanage?’
‘She was with us when we were resettled, so she was simply brought along.’ There was a touch of bitterness in Anna’s voice but the man didn’t pursue the matter.
‘Date of birth?’
Anna hesitated. ‘The 8th of May 1924, I think. I’ll need to check her birth certificate.’ That document was one of the few things she had been given after the death of Rita’s father.
‘You can confirm that in the office later. That will do for now.’
Anna nodded.
‘Can you read and write?’ he went on.
‘Yes, German and Russian,’ she said, feeling just a tiny bit proud of herself. ‘I have eight years of schooling.’
‘Any further qualifications?’
‘No, but I can sew – very well, in fact.’
The man made a note of this and then turned to Maria.
When he had questioned the whole group he told everyone, ‘All the children aged between seven and fifteen will attend the school at Luza as of tomorrow. They must arrive on time at eight o’clock. They must bring a pen and an exercise book. The younger children will stay in your care for the time being, Comrades.’
Anna took a closer look at the other women – after all, they would be spending their days together from now on. Apart from herself and Maria, there were three more young mothers and sixteen children, ten of whom were too young for school.
Once the Commander and his men had left the hut, the women stood around, unsure of what to do until Anna’s more pragmatic side went into action. If Erich was going to school as of tomorrow, then he would need warmer clothing. If he tried to tackle the hour-long march in his light coat, he would catch his death of cold by the end of the week.
With this in mind, she said, ‘I’m going to Luza. Maybe we’ll find somewhere to get some warm clothes for the children.’
If she managed to find anything that would do, the purchases would put a serious dent in her savings, but what was money for, if not to stop the children from freezing to death? And anyway, in a few days’ time, Wilhelm was likely to receive his first pay for his work here.
‘I’ll come with you,’ one of the other women announced. Three children were crowded around her, all looking frightened – a girl of about ten and two boys of roughly seven and two.
Anna nodded. ‘Could you keep an eye on Erich and the girls?’ she asked Maria.
‘Of course I will. Come on, let’s sing a song together,’ Maria said, beckoning the children into a corner of the room.
Anna reached out a hand and introduced herself to the other woman, who gave her name as Lena.
While Anna wrapped a second shawl around her chest and shoulders, she noticed that Lena was following her example and also getting wrapped up as warmly as possible. Finally, she wound a co
uple of pieces of cloth around her feet and forced them into her boots, which were now far too small. She would get a blister or two on the way, but it seemed a small price to pay for warm toes and she didn’t mind.
Once she was ready, Anna put her sewing scissors into her coat pocket. If she managed to find anything to buy, she would cut out her reserve funds from the hem of the coat. If not, then the secret nest egg could remain safe and sound where it was.
Having waved goodbye to the children, she and Lena set off with determination.
Feeling dutiful, they told the guards at the entrance to the camp where they were going and promised to be back in several hours’ time.
As they walked, Anna eyed her companion. She was wearing a good-quality coat and a pretty knitted hat made of real wool. Lena had obviously been better off than some.
‘I’d like to see if I can find any work while we’re in town,’ Anna said to break the silence after a while.
‘Do you think there’s any work for us?’ Lena asked, not sounding very hopeful.
‘I have no idea but it’s worth a try. I could take on some sewing.’
‘I wish I could sew or knit well, but unfortunately I never managed more than an apron or a simple dress,’ Lena said, laughing bitterly. ‘I could give piano lessons but somehow I doubt they’d be in great demand here.’
‘You weren’t farmers, were you?’
‘No.’ Lena shook her head sadly. ‘We were both teachers in Krontal. We had our own house, a garden and a beautiful piano that used to belong to my mother.’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘Who knows – maybe we can return some day.’
Anna said nothing. She didn’t want to destroy the other woman’s hopes by telling her how unrealistic she was being. Even if they did ever return to the Crimea, they would have to start from scratch.
It took more than half an hour before they could see the station of Luza and the small town spread out behind it at last.
Anna looked around with interest as they walked down the main street. To the right and the left, single-storey wooden houses lined the road. Some of the houses had signs outside, identifying them as the school, the general store and the council building, while others were people’s homes. En route to the shop, Anna made a mental note of several wealthier-looking houses where she could call and ask for sewing work later in the day.