Finally, they came to their destination. The doors slid back and the few remaining men tumbled out, shielding their eyes from the bright afternoon light. Only about one-third of the men survived the trip. They were all starving, parched and suffering from many diseases. Isaac and Saul had lost nearly a third of their body mass. Abraham seemed to have fared the best, but Yuri was just a walking skeleton. They fell in together and supported each other.
Isaac looked up and with a small smile, said, “I know where we are.”
Saul looked at his grimly smiling face, “Where?”
“Buchenwald. It is where I started. Another camp, just as bad as Auschwitz, but in Germany.” He mused, “Will this never end?”
They were marched through the gates. Along one side, behind a barbed wire fence were female prisoners, hundreds of them, some wearing the now ubiquitous black and white striped trousers and shirts, some in the washed-out blue work suits and some just in rags. On their feet most wore rough wooden shoes. Some had feet wrapped in rags, and some were barefoot. Isaac felt sorry for them; even though the day was unusually warm, they had to be cold.
They noticed that one end of the camp had been bombed. The scorched earth and buildings testified to Allied incendiary bombs. Isaac wondered how many prisoners had been killed. They were led to a barracks and given a tin mug each. A guard recorded their number and waved them aside.
Isaac and his friends huddled in the lee of a building. “What do you suppose we are going to be doing here?” he asked.
Saul shrugged, “Wait, I suppose, for either the bullet or the Allies.”
“For now, I believe we must keep our friend Yuri here alive.” Yuri was visibly sagging, his breathing shallow. Abraham slipped an arm around his thin waist, “Stay upright. If you go down, they will kill you.”
“I don’t care,” Yuri whispered. “I have nothing to live for.”
Isaac grabbed the front of his tunic and glared at him. “Yes, you do. See that guard over there? The officer?” He nodded toward a tall SS man wrapped in a greatcoat with a fur collar.
Yuri nodded feebly.
“Well, after this war is over ̶ and it can’t last much longer ̶ you and I are going to kill him.” Isaac just let his fury bubble over. “Yes, my friend, you, and Abraham, and I are going to track these men down after this is over. We will wipe every one of these smug faces from the earth.” He knew what he was going to do now.
Yuri stiffened a little. “How are we going to do this?” He was listening and getting into the game.
If this could keep Yuri alive, Isaac would tell him anything. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Abraham visibly start. That was too bad. Isaac gave him a stern look, ordering him to join in. It might seem just a game to Abraham, but Isaac, a young man of twenty years, was going to hunt these men down if it took the rest of his life.
Isaac thought for a minute and then said, “We are first going to Palestine and help form the state of Israel, like the Zionists are doing. There I will draw pictures of every guard and nurse and SS man I can remember, and, believe me, I have a long memory.”
Yuri struggled to smile, “Then what will we do?”
“When they are complacent and think they are safe, we will find them. Some night, some day when they are out for a relaxing walk or a drive in their new car, one of us will show up. We will smile and, perhaps ask for a light for our cigarette. When they lean forward to offer the light, we will shoot them in their bloated bellies. Bang, bang, just like they shot us. Then I will douse their bodies with petrol and burn them, like they did us. Woosh!” Isaac grinned that sardonic grin that became a trademark over the years.
Yuri gave a small laugh, “And I will help you?”
“Of course. You are my chief lieutenant. But you must live so we can rid the world of such vermin.”
Abraham frowned. “Aren’t you sounding just like them now?”
Now it was Isaac’s turn to frown, “So what would you have us do? Nothing? Or perhaps you think we can rehabilitate them? Maybe make them into janitors at synagogues?” He pointed toward the officer, “That man there, I saw him kill several men, just because they stumbled. He does not deserve to live.”
Through all this, Saul was quiet. Finally he felt compelled to speak up. “I believe that Isaac is right. You also, Abraham. They must be hunted down and captured, but instead of shooting them, they should be tried and, if convicted, be put in prison or even, yes, executed.” He took a breath, “It will be difficult, perhaps, especially here in Germany, or even Poland or Hungary, but that is what must happen.”
Isaac nodded, “Fine. I will let the courts deal with them. Then, if they are freed, I will act. Will that soothe your timid conscience?”
Saul said uneasily, “The rule of law must prevail. As problematic as that is, the world must pull back from this dictatorial form of government and learn that the rule of law should be supreme. Otherwise, we have just another form of dictatorship.”
Just then, the officer ordered the SS guards to line the men up. Isaac whispered to Yuri, “Stand up straight. We are your friends and will help you.”
The men were formed into a line and led through a long shed. They were showered, issued clean uniforms and fed. The food was poor, but the soup was hot and a small piece of crusty bread was handed to them. A water faucet was on a wall, and the men gulped mug after mug but Abraham held the three back. “Only small amounts. We are dehydrated and will not be able to hold it down.”
Around them, some of the men were retching and experiencing diarrhea. The waste disposal facilities were deplorable, mere seats over barrels which, when fuel was plentiful, were burned. Now, the barrels were capped and rolled into the nearby woods, emptied and returned to the midden house.
Guards roamed the large open area and looked for any excuse to shoot a prisoner. The war was fast coming to an end, and they needed the merest excuse to kill a man. Isaac moved closer to the SS officer to get a good look at his face. When he did, he knew he could duplicate it on paper. He tried to be as casual as he could, but the officer noticed him in the crowd.
He ordered a guard to bring the Jew to him. A burly black-clad guard grabbed his arm and dragged him before the officer. “What are you looking at, boy?”
Isaac stammered, “N-nothing, sir. I just thought I recognized you, is all.”
“Me?” The officer laughed in astonishment. “How would a mere rodent like you know me?”
“I do not, sir. I was obviously mistaken.” Isaac hung his head, looking at his feet. But he did know the SS officer. He might be an SS officer now, but Isaac remembered the night his father and grandfather had been shot by the policeman. This man had been that policeman. Be calm, he thought. Do not give him any excuse to kill you. After this is over, Isaac knew just where to find this man, this killer of Jews, this Wilhelm Yunger, whose son had gone to school with Isaac. Isaac remembered the son being as much a bully as the father.
The officer put the end of his riding crop under Isaac’s chin, “What is your name, boy?” He studied Isaac’s face, trying to place him.
Quickly Isaac made up a name, “David, sir. David Silverman. I am from outside Berlin.”
“Hmm, just so. Just so.” With the butt of his riding crop, he shoved Isaac back toward the crowd of men.
Isaac tried to blend in, fade into the crowd. Abraham grabbed his shoulder, “What are you trying to do? Get us all killed?”
Shaking from the meeting, Isaac told the others who the officer was. Yuri piped up, “He will be our first, yes?”
“Yes, Yuri, he will be our first. I know where we will be able to find him.
Chapter 18
They were put to work dismantling the crematorium and hospital buildings. They worked from dawn to dark, and there was little food. Many men were shot each day.
One morning as they were at muster, though Isaac couldn’t see how the guards could keep track of the correct number of prisoners with all the deaths, he saw a line of women prisoners
being formed up. They were in long lines, three abreast and were being herded by female SS guards. These guards wore the black uniforms, high black boots and hats with the death-head symbol like other guards.
One of the female guards carried a short whip, which she applied liberally. She was a young girl, younger than Isaac, with a high-pitched voice, long legs and broad shoulders. Her blonde hair fell to the nape of her neck. As they got closer, Isaac saw that she was quite good looking. What a shame, he thought. She should be home with her family.
The prisoners shuffled along in their rags looking, if anything, as pathetic and malnourished as the men. Their hair was shorn, and, if not for the female guards, he would be hard pressed to tell that many were women. He hoped that his mother or sister weren’t among this crowd. He could barely remember Miriam, his beautiful sister, or his mother’s smile. They lived in a deep dark corner of his forgetful mind. Whenever his thoughts turned to his cozy home, his family, or his schooling, he quickly pushed them away. All that lived in his mind now was survival and retribution.
He watched their small feet trample the snow, churning the ground into a thin mud. The male SS officers and guards waved at the women guards and shouted greetings. One asked, “Where are you bound, Helga?”
Helga cupped a hand over her mouth and shouted back, “Theresienstadt, if it is still there. You?”
He laughed and said, “Have a nice walk. We will be off to Bergen-Belsen soon.”
So that’s where we are going, thought Isaac. One more camp.
How they lived through the winter, he didn’t know. Every day at muster, more and more bodies were pulled out and thrown into a pit dug by a bulldozer. The famous Nazi discipline was crumbling, the guards grew more vicious, at times ignoring their officers, the food poorer. The men ate grass, and when they were permitted to forage in the forest, they ate roots, nuts and whatever small animals they could catch.
There was no thought of the guards sharing what they had with the prisoners. All through the winter and into spring, Isaac estimated that more than ten thousand men died.
As the spring came, the guards knew that the end was near. Many of the high-ranking officers had already left, leaving behind junior officers and sergeants. In early April, the prisoners were again loaded into boxcars to be shipped to Bergen-Belsen, an extermination camp. The bombing raids by the Allies were almost constant. Rarely did they see German planes, though they heard strange whooshing noises off to the west and fiery balls of flame that quickly sped out of sight. Later they were to learn that these were rocket bombs headed toward England.
Once again, they were packed into the rail cars but there were far fewer of them than there had been on the last ride from Auschwitz to Buchenwald. That meant fewer cars. Even so, Isaac got separated from Yuri and Abraham. He still had Saul by his side, however, and they made themselves some room in a corner of the car. The slats were ill-spaced, and they could see out at the oh-so-normal looking countryside. The train took numerous side trips from the bombed-out main line.
One day, Allied airplanes came over the train, stitching it with machine gun fire. The train halted partway in a tunnel. The guards ordered all the prisoners to lie down and then they ran several hundred meters away to lie in a ditch. The planes came and dropped bombs, not on the train but on the guards in the ditch. After the planes left, all was quiet for a long time. Isaac and Saul were in one of the last cars.
“Is anyone out there?” Isaac shouted.
He heard Abraham shout back, “Is that you, Isaac?”
“Yes. Are you hit?”
“No, but many here are dead and wounded. Can you get out?”
Isaac and Saul stepped over the corpses and those men too weak to stand and rattled the door. It refused to budge. He cupped his hand and shouted, “No, our door is locked. Can you get out?”
“No. Same as you. We have nothing to use as a tool. The guards will come back soon, perhaps by nightfall.”
He and Saul sat with their backs to the wall. So this is how it will end, he thought. Starved to death in a boxcar everyone has forgotten about. Just when the war was ending too.
Chapter 19
Three days and two nights they stayed locked in the car. Because of the shadow of the tunnel, their car stayed mainly in the shade. However, the last car, the car in which Abraham and Yuri resided, was in the sun during the day. By the second day, no one was able to shout, their throats were too parched.
Isaac woke from his torpor on the third morning. He thought he heard voices. “Help, help!” he screamed. At least, he thought he screamed. Yes, yes, he heard voices. They weren’t speaking German, thanks Gott. He listened. They weren’t speaking Russian either. English! There were English-speaking people outside. He dredged up some of the bits of English he’d learned many years ago in school.
“Help, please. We are men here. Prisoners.”
A few minutes later Isaac heard more voices, then truck engines. A loud banging commenced on the door, and it slowly slid back. The bright sun streamed in. He squinted and blinked.
He could discern soldiers, but the helmets were different, and the uniforms were green, not black. Several of the soldiers had their weapons pointed at them. One waved a hand, motioning him out. Isaac and Saul crawled over the bodies of their fellows but were too weak to climb down. “Water,” Saul whispered.
A soldier took a canteen off his belt and handed it up to the scarecrow man. Saul tried but couldn’t unscrew the top. He looked pleadingly at the soldier who slung his rifle over a shoulder and quickly unscrewed the top. “Danke,” Saul croaked. He guzzled the water and then handed it to Isaac.
Isaac also said “Danke,” but followed it up with, “Thanks to you.”
The soldier reached up and helped them down, where they clung to the side of the railcar. Near the rear car, Isaac saw Abraham, Yuri and two other men sitting on the ground. He hobbled over to them, helped by the soldier. All the time he kept mumbling, “Friends, friends.”
Isaac collapsed next to his older friend and hugged him. Yuri clung to both of them. “Is this all of us that are alive?”
Abraham nodded wordlessly. They looked up at the circle of soldiers. Isaac asked, “Who you? Americans?”
The soldier grinned through his stubble, “Naw, Canadians. From Canada, eh?” he looked at the pitiful wrecks before him. There were nine boxcars full of these emaciated skeletons, yet barely twenty were still alive. The soldier brushed a tear from his eye, “You fellers just hold on. We’ve got a doc coming up and some food. Are there any German soldiers around here?”
Isaac just pointed to the ditch. “Guards. SS. Bad men.”
The soldier nodded, “Yes, we’ve seen ‘em. They’re all dead. Maybe ten of them. That all that were with you?”
Isaac shrugged, “Maybe two or three extra. Not more.”
That night, the Canadians set up camp in a field nearby, erected several tents and a doctor looked at the remaining prisoners. He was a gentle, older man named Kilby. He treated what wounds and abscesses he could with field dressings.
“I’d like to give you all tetanus shots, but you’re going to have to put on some weight before I dare try.” He made sure the men got just enough food to sustain them plus a little more. He didn’t want to take a chance on their overeating, which could kill them. They were deloused and given clean clothes, which had been liberated from a nearby small town.
“Is war over, Herr Doctor?” Isaac asked the next day.
“Not yet, lad. Soon, though. The Yanks are bombing hell out of whatever positions are still putting up resistance, and the Russkies are closing in on Berlin. Just a matter of a week or two.”
An officer stuck his head in the tent and said to the doctor, “Get ready to mount up, Doc. We’re moving out in the morning, eh?”
The doctor started to rise from his campstool, “But what about these men? Are they coming with us?”
The officer shook his head, “Can’t do it, Doc. War’s still on and these lad
s will just slow us down. The Yanks are coming right behind us.”
“So we’re just to leave them here?”
“Afraid so. We’ll leave them a tent and some food. That’s the best we can do.” With a last wave at the men, he growled over his shoulder, “Start packing.”
The next morning, Yuri, Isaac, Abraham and Saul stood and shook hands with the doctor and the officer. “Many thank yous to you all for saving our lifes. We wish you much luck and hope you gets home safe.” Isaac was fast remembering his English lessons but it was still a stretch.
* * *
Al leaned across the table and touched the old man’s hand, “So the Canadian soldiers just left you in that field?”
Isaac nodded his head, his eyes far away. Slowly he turned his head and gazed at his nephew with a small smile on his face. “Yes, but we were free. For the first time in many years, we were free men.” The he laughed and smacked the table with his open hand, “Free men in the heart of Nazi Germany!”
Miriam jumped at the sound. “So did you go back to your home town?” She frowned. “Did you look for your family?”
“No,” he said. “No, they were all dead. All dead in the camps, in the ovens.” He rested his arms on the table, the umbrella throwing a shadow across his lined and scarred face. “I never expected my little brother to be alive. The last time I saw him, he was just a skinny, frightened child.” “Who knew he had such fortitude?”
“So what happened next? Where did you go?” Al wanted, needed to know everything about this remarkable man, this survivor.
“Let us order some dinner, and I will go on. You know,” he confided, “I have never told anyone my whole story. I never thought anyone would care. After all, I am just another survivor. There are many of us here in Israel and other places.”
Long Lost Brother Page 11