Immediately they suspected that the girl just might run into the village where the German patrol was stationed and tell them what she had seen. And that is exactly what she did. However, by now, Darko was safely gone, and when the German patrol arrived to investigate, they told Lucille that they had reason to believe that a partisan had been spotted on the premises.
The introductions were in order and properly done, as Lucille assured them that it must be a mistake, but if they wished, they were free to search the house. This they did, and found Vera attending to her ailing father.
On their return to the main part of the house, Lucille graciously offered them a drink.
“As you know, my husband is having a rough time with his stomach, not to mention other problems he has been going through.” The patrol seemed to be satisfied.
No comments were ever available or forthcoming from the “good friend.” The Germans were used to informers trying to get in their good books by telling on their neighbours. They soon came to know the ones who were always willing to tell tales.
To speak freely during the war was not only dangerous but could be deadly, and a small incident could be enlarged until it became a huge situation. There had been occasions where an informer had been forced into telling on another person in order to save his/her own family.
“The Jews amaze me. They are capable of keeping things to themselves. Their secrets are safe within them.” Lucille was talking to herself.
“Whom are you talking to?” Mark surprised her. And after the initial shock of hearing him, Lucille tried to bluff and simply went on. “You have to admit it. These people have their own body language that works for them. They are loyal to each other, which is more than the non-Jews can say. Let’s face it, Mark, Gradsko Selo is not free of informers. We must be careful and avoid the ones that we know are informers in order to protect our family.”
“I am quite aware of certain families being constantly harassed due to informers. Whether true or false, it is all due to gossip.”
One day, word reached the Germans that the Lamar family, who lived not far from the Zantons, had been aiding the partisans with medical supplies. Their oldest daughter was a nurse and had been watched for some time, likely by informers. The Germans came, burned down the house, and took the entire family — the parents and the seven children — to an undisclosed concentration camp, possibly in Germany, or even Poland. They had been given no notice or chance to prepare. They were totally oblivious of what was happening to them or why.
The whole village was in a total panic. A chill had come over everyone.
Very little was ever known as to what happened to them after they were taken away. Nobody ever spoke of them, for fear of getting involved in something that could hurt them.
“I can’t stand looking at that house, standing there, looking like a skeleton and a bad reminder of horror. I wonder whatever happened to them,” said Lucille.
“I’m glad the villagers saved the house from burning down completely; what if the Lamars returned? They would have no home to come to,” Mark said with a heavy heart.
The contents of the house were confiscated during the evacuation. Only some debris was thrown out in order to save the house. There was a definite sign of death in it, and it gave a feeling of ghostly presence. In fact, it was believed that a ghost haunted the place.
“The house is quite unique,” Helena added. “I have been in that house many times in the past.”
“It looked nice but not so different from the rest of the houses in the village,” Lucille said.
“For one thing, it had a sunken living room.”
“What do you mean, ‘sunken living room’?” Lucille was now interested.
“I have things to do,” Mark told them and went out.
One room, on the far left, had a few steps leading to it, which put it into higher perspective from the others and was of special interest. The village children were quite spooked by it when, through the years, they occasionally entered the lone house just out of curiosity. The Lamars were missed very much.
“It is believed that that very room is haunted. If you think about it long enough, you can understand why it is happening. It is believed that one of the family members refuses to leave the house. It makes its presence known by moving a curtain in the room, without the window being open for the wind to blow on it. There has been no other explanation for it.” Helena finished with a sigh.
“I hadn’t heard about that.” Lucille was totally bewildered.
“I just hope that they will one day return, or at least some of them,” Helena said.
Mark Zanton was having problems with his stomach again.
“I knew that this was going to be more than just a minor problem and I am sure you did, too.” Lucille was trying to broach the subject of being prepared for the worst.
“I don’t mean to make excuses, but having just buried young Mark and having poor health was what set me off in the wrong direction after the surgery.”
“Mark, you had a third of your stomach removed plus a good part of your intestines, so if that is not enough, than what is?” Lucille tried to reason with him and to demonstrate that she is on his side. He had no reason to feel guilty.
“The most I can drink now is one glass of wine and I feel it. I was never much of a drinker but this is ridiculous. Any more than one glass and I am drunk. I can’t even keep up with the family tradition of Zanton men, having their cronies over to drink and talk.”
Mark and his friends would go into the cellar for a “get-together,” but the medication that he had to take limited his intake of alcohol.
“Remember that time when Nate took your rifle and, by trying to shoot into the sky, he accidentally shot off a part of the roof?” Lucille was now chuckling.
This turned out to be a dangerous situation, as the Germans heard the noise of firearms. They immediately came to investigate. Were it not for the other three guys being totally bombed to a point of sheer stupidity, the whole family could have been in trouble. At least Mark was only slightly tipsy. He sobered fast and apologized profoundly for his buddy, and the matter was somewhat defused at the end. Needless to say, the Germans took the rifle. They seemed to be relieved that at least it wasn’t something against them.
They say when it rains, it pours!
During the winter, one of the partisan brigades decided to enter the village overnight in order to get some food. They went to those houses that were at the end of the village, and the Zantons’ house was one of them.
From them, they took two grown pigs (one of them pregnant), loading them onto a wagon to which they harnessed two of their horses from the stable. At that point, they entered the house.
“Mr. Zanton, we need you to take this load somewhere for us,” the leader said.
“I am sorry, but I can’t go because I am not well. You would have nothing but trouble with me.”
“We are not asking you; we are telling you.” At which point, he was blindfolded and taken onto the wagon by force, tripping along the way on his own feet. By now, the girls were awake and screaming at the sight of their father being forcibly taken away. By the time the wagon departed with Mark in tow, the neighbours were awake and in a panic, together with the Zantons and the other few homeowners.
Meanwhile, the Germans had been informed that there was a commotion going on at some of the houses at the end of the village. When the German patrol arrived at the Zanton house, they found Lucille and the girls frantic, as they were afraid of what was going to happen to Mark. Lucille was also afraid of what was going to happen to them. And what if they interrogate her or even kill her in front of the girls?
“Madam, the word has it that your husband is willingly supporting the partisans! You must tell us where he is taking the supplies to!” Lucille didn’t know just how much information had been given to them by the in
formers.
“I have no idea where my husband is being taken.” The next thing, she felt her face being somewhat numbed from a slap. The girls panicked even more now.
“Tell us where he is, and we will let you go.” But Lucille knew better. She decided not to speak at all.
This went on for a while. Sometime later she tried to tell them that he was taken by force, only to get hit even more. She wouldn’t talk, or rather, she had nothing to say. By the time they threatened her with shooting the children, she still didn’t know where Mark was, for it was the truth.
They kept her against the wall, with her arms up, trying to convince her to talk.
“Madam, you are being very brave and stubborn, but you must tell the truth.” The truth was, she didn’t know.
“Mom, are you going to be all right?” The girls were screaming; the night was lasting forever; the Germans were there to stay until Mark returned. They told her so, which terrified her even more.
“May I put my arms down just for a while, please?”
“Up, up, up! Keep them up until you decide to tell us where your husband is!” These people were mean, heartless, and brutal . . . A couple of times, she slid down from exhaustion, only to be hit in the stomach and told not to fake it. This prompted the girls to panic again. They were all in one corner of the living room, where the whole episode was taking place.
The Germans took turns interrogating Lucille verbally. Physically, she was spared any major torture other than the slapping and a few hits to her stomach. She was grateful that the girls were not taken away from her during the interrogation.
At about seven a.m., there was a noise outside. The horses had returned, very frisky, as they often did when sensing danger. Animals sense if something is wrong. On the wagon, lying at the back, was Mark — unconscious. The horses stopped right in front of the house. They were extremely restless. The wagon was damaged, which meant that the horses had taken a few bad turns coming home. But as usual, they had made it home.
Later, after the end of the war, at one of the many Zanton gatherings, Lucille and Mark were remembering that incident. “You were hospitalized for a long time after that,” mused Lucille. “I didn’t think you were going to survive.”
“Ah, I am a tough guy. At least that proved to the Germans that I was not a willing participant in the whole miserable nightmare!” Mark answered. “To this day, I don’t know, or remember, where I was that night. I was just happy to be home again.”
“We sensed the beginning of the end of the war when the Russian Army entered the country,” Lucille said. “Not that we were too sure of what that meant at the time, but a change represented a sense of relief.”
The Russians were liberating the alternative countries. The English and the Americans were liberating the rest of those countries that had been occupied by the Germans.
“There were wagons and wagons arriving and settling everywhere, including at our place,” Mark continued. “The Cossacks took over the area. They brought along women who cooked for them. And let me tell you, these women were mean. I was worried for Lucille.”
“I was quite indignant when they told me that I had been given a designated time to cook for our family. I was allowed to cook in between their times, and that was not our normal, accustomed time. Talk about lack of freedom in your own home. It took me forever to come to this house, and now I was being told when I could cook for my own family!”
Mark laughed. “You see, this little but mighty woman doesn’t give up that easily.” Now they both laughed.
“Yeah, and the Germans found that out as well,” Lucille confirmed.
Luckily, the food was plentiful, at least for a while. The farmers grew their own crops and did not want for much. However, the army soon changed that.
“Those army women were nasty, as they had been living in all sorts of conditions. Life like that makes you hard. They, too, wanted an end to it all.” Lucille talked about it as if to apologize on their behalf. “The problem was that the Russians also were known for raping young girls. That forced me to take Vera and Marie to the vineyard all over again. But Stan was happy. That way, he had plenty of company, as well as help.
“That danger was never mentioned to Leni and Silvia, so as not to spook them about something they knew nothing about. The wagons belonging to the Russians were laden with what was most likely confiscated items from previous areas they had liberated.” One could see on Lucille’s face how horrible the situation had seemed. “They were no doubt thinking that they would be useful to them in the future.”
They may have been ordered to take the items. Those stolen goods were quite valuable.
Because the Cossacks allowed their horses to run free all over the property, Mark instructed Leni and Silvia to be extra careful and stay close to the trees or close to the house.
“Girls, you know how horses are. If you stay close to the house and/or trees, there is a lesser chance you will get trampled by them.”
“So where am I supposed to be during daytime hours?” Lucille said sarcastically. She knew very well what the answer would be — that he knew she would do her best to keep herself and the girls safe and occupied — but she simply had to say it.
The family was not allowed to stay in the house during the day’s activities. Since the Cossacks set up an office in the living room, Lucille did not have the privilege of keeping the two younger ones in the house where they could be kept safe. Therefore, those warnings about the horses were the next best thing under the circumstances.
It seemed that by now, the Germans were slowly being sent packing. On one hand, it was good. But the task was not yet completed, and one never knew what could develop along the lines. Some of those Cossacks were actually quite decent people — just trapped in the same situation as the civilians.
Lucille went on reminiscing. “At times, one of the officers would give the command to help me provide for the food. After all, they had no knowledge of how long they were going to stay.”
There might have been the need for more produce and other foodstuffs to survive. One elderly captain took pity on the family (likely a father himself) and did something totally out of character. He had a Singer sewing machine put up in the servants’ attic quarters with a note attached to it saying, “Vera.” After all, these people were as much victims as they were nuisance. Vera might have reminded him of his own daughter, and therefore this may have meant a lot to him.
The Zantons considered themselves lucky to be alive. So much had happened. For instance, one afternoon, Darko showed up at the house.
“Darko, what are you doing here?” Vera almost shouted.
“Keep it down. We are going to blow up the village bridge tonight. Open all the windows, even if it’s cold, so that they don’t explode from the impact. Don’t say anything to anyone,” he added. “We can’t tell everyone about it — the secret must be kept from the officials.”
“But why do you want to do that?” Vera was being Vera.
“Just do as I say and tell your aunt Helena to do the same, as well as Monika and Boris.”
The purpose of doing this was to slow down the Germans on their way out of the country and distract them from burning everything along their way, as was their custom. This way, they would be preoccupied with getting across, instead of burning the bridges behind them.
That same night, there was a great deal of bombing going on. The castle overlooking the village was destroyed, as was another nearby. Some of the Austrian royal descendants had lived there before and had fled some time ago; they were by now living somewhere in Austria. There was a third castle, not too far away, which was spared. It turned out that the bombing had nothing to do with the bridge.
“This is not just the bridge going down. The Cossacks must have found out about the bridge project and are destroying an awful lot of things.” Mark was plenty worried.
Darko worried a lot about Vera’s family. The last thing he wanted was for them to suffer on his account. He had proven himself to Mark and Lucille in other ways as well. He touched their lives by looking after his colleagues during the war.
As the beautiful valley just stood there very protectively, somewhat unnoticed, so did a lot of suffering. It would take a long time for the world to heal and recover from the war. The excitement of the war’s ending was overwhelming at first, and rightfully so, for it meant a triumph for some and a realization for others that their loved ones would never return. Some were dead, some missing in action, or languishing in some faraway hospital for months to come. But one thing was sure: now the killing would stop. The whole world had suffered enough.
“Many ruins will remain for decades, and some forever,” Mark said slowly. He was tired of being ill so often, of not being able to do more, and of the unrest in the world.
On the day that the war was officially declared to be over, there were church bells ringing everywhere. Even the tiniest church bell could be heard, and there were plenty. It was magic to hear them all. The spring can be very beautiful, as the flowers and the trees are plentiful and in full bloom. It is wonderful to celebrate something as big as an end to a prolonged and miserable war that left such a devastating impact on so many people. To be free is to live in peace and try to recapture at least some of the precious moments. Suddenly the sun shines brighter, the grass is greener, breathing is easier, and, above all, the children can once again play without restrictions.
“Then, it hits you. Was it worth it all?” Mark asked the people around him, as many had gathered at the Zantons’ place. “Can we ever overcome the loss? The sorrow and despair will never quite go away; it will linger and then eventually it will feel less devastating.”
“Only three of the seven Lamar children came back home after the war. Their home, although looking very deserted and neglected, was nevertheless their home. The joy, as well as the sadness, was overwhelming through the village and the valley,” Lucille was happy to say.
A Touch of Light Page 22