by Mark Kurzem
“It was getting cold and the nights were drawing in when it happened in my village.”
“I am trying to picture where your village might have been in Russia,” I said.
“They never mentioned where we were, apart from insults…”
“Insults?”
“Yes, you know, curses and swearing. Incessant.”
“Such as?”
My father’s face turned red with embarrassment. He coughed and looked around.
“If you’d rather not say,” I said.
My father nodded gratefully. I realized that I had rarely, if ever, heard him swear. Perhaps his aversion stemmed from his being forced to listen to the soldiers’ abuse.
I changed the subject. “How far was the ‘S’ camp from Riga?”
“I couldn’t say, but the train journey to Riga with Sergeant Kulis seemed to take forever. But then everything does for a child. We would have to change trains at least once and also spend one night on board—it was always uncomfortable, and I would cuddle up to the sergeant, who’d wrap me inside his big army coat.”
“What did you do in Riga?”
“It was a real treat for me.” My father’s face lit up.
“Even though things must have been scarce during wartime they treated me very well. I did all the usual things that kids like doing. Sergeant Kulis would take me to stay with his mother and father, and we’d spend lots of time with his fiancée, Wilma, as well. We’d go to one of the parks if the weather was fine. That always attracted a lot of attention, especially from other children. Boys in particular were envious of my uniform. ‘How can we join the army?’ they used to ask me all the time.
“Once the Kulis family took me to see a movie, and before it there was a newsreel about the war. Believe it or not, I didn’t like it: it was just propaganda. I’d been at the front. I knew the difference between what really went on and what was on the screen, which was just fantasy. I was a real soldier.
“The more time I spent in Riga, the more well known I became. One day Sergeant Kulis and Wilma took me to a café for ice cream. When I entered holding Wilma’s hand, the entire café seemed to recognize me and several people rose from their seats and applauded.
“I can taste it now, that ice cream. Strawberry, it was.” My father smiled nostalgically. “I hadn’t had ice cream since I was a child in my village.”
“It sounds as if you no longer hated Sergeant Kulis.”
“I’m not sure what I felt. I never forgot or forgave what he’d done that day when the building was burned down. But Commander Lobe had put him in charge of me, and I just made the best of it, trying to get along with him and everybody, for that matter. I was a quick learner, too, so it wasn’t long before I was chattering away in Latvian with the soldiers and people I met in Riga.”
“You were turning into quite the little Latvian,” I joked.
My father gave an uneasy laugh. “No,” he said. “I wasn’t one of them. I could feel them loving me, but I didn’t want any part of it. Deep inside me I wanted to be free of them. Always. Anyway, it was in the late spring of 1943 when Sergeant Kulis told me that he and I would be making another journey to Riga. I imagined that it was going to be one of our typical visits together and began to anticipate the many treats that I knew would be coming my way.
“But as soon as the train pulled into the main station in Riga, I had an inkling that something was up. Wilma was not there to greet us as she’d been on other occasions. Instead an enormous shiny black limousine waited at the curb outside the station exit.
“The sergeant gathered my knapsack and ushered me toward the car. A chauffeur dressed in a soldier’s uniform stood to attention and held the door open for me. I couldn’t believe the luxury inside the car; the seats were covered in leather and there was even a small cocktail bar. The engine was almost inaudible as we wove our way smoothly through the streets of Riga. I gazed out from the passenger window, but I didn’t recognize anything I saw—we were in a different part of Riga.
“I stared across at Sergeant Kulis, who was still gripping my hand. ‘Where are we?’ I demanded with a growing sense of panic. ‘We’ll be there soon,’ he said, and I could tell that he, too, was uneasy about something. This visit seemed to be going very differently from other visits when he took me by bus to his family home.
“Then the car turned, and moments later we pulled up outside a building that seemed to tower above the street. I was a village boy, and I’d never seen anything like it before. I peered up at it through the car window. I was enchanted: I thought that it was a magical palace, with all its colored lights and its pretty lit sign above the entrance. The sign said LAIMA CHOCOLATES.
“It was then that I noticed a man was standing in the shadow of the building near the entrance. I stared intently at him, but I couldn’t quite make him out.
“The chauffeur came around and opened the door on my side, at which point the mysterious man stepped forward into the bright morning light. He wasn’t a soldier. Instead he was wearing a well-cut suit of a fine shiny material. He seemed very formal: he stood very erect and rigid with his hands held behind his back, and I thought that he must be a well-bred sort of person.
“He came toward the car and stretched out his hand to shake mine, but I held back. I waited for Sergeant Kulis to join me, and when he did I instinctively tried to take his hand. But he shrugged me off and instead shook hands with this superior man. Then he turned to me. ‘This is Mr. Dzenis,’ he said. ‘Say hello.’
“I hid behind Sergeant Kulis’s leg. He tried to nudge me out to the front, but I had frozen to the spot. Then the sergeant said, ‘Mr. Dzenis is going to look after you.’ My heart sank. My intuition that something was wrong had been right, but I had never imagined that I was going to be given away.
“Sergeant Kulis nudged me again, trying to get me to greet this forbidding man, but I remained mute.
“Suddenly, before I even understood what was happening, the sergeant lifted me off the ground and gave me a hug, as if I were a child and not a soldier. ‘Farewell, my little friend,’ he said. With that he put me down and strode away. I lost control, again forgetting that I was a soldier, and began stamping my foot. I set my jaw stubbornly. I wanted Sergeant Kulis and not this Mr. Dzenis, even if he did live in a beautiful palace. I have always remembered that moment and the sergeant’s parting words to me.
“Mr. Dzenis literally began to drag me back toward the limousine. I was kicking and screaming, but then I got hold of myself. I told myself not to make any trouble. I’d learned better than that.
“For a moment we paused on the pavement, and I got one last chance to search the street with my eyes. By then there was no sign of the sergeant. At that moment I didn’t think I would ever forgive him for deserting me.”
“Why were you reluctant to leave the soldiers?” I asked.
“I’d gotten used to them and the way they cared for me,” my father replied. Then with a shrug of his shoulders he added, “Besides, I had nobody else.”
“The limousine set off again. This time I was in the company of Mr. Dzenis. Like Mr. Dzenis himself, the part of the city we passed through somehow seemed more well-off than where I usually went with Sergeant Kulis. There were shops with bright and colorful displays in their windows, and the ladies walking on the pavement appeared happy and fine-looking.
“Eventually we turned off a main road and into a narrow street. There was a sign that said VALDEMARA IELA. Shortly after that, we came to a halt outside a well-kept apartment block. It was as impressive as the palace I’d just seen. There was a long path leading from the curb up to the front door. On one side of the entrance the Nazi flag—a giant swastika—was flying, and on the other, the Latvian flag.
“I climbed out of the car and waited for Mr. Dzenis to join me. He took my hand as we headed up the path and entered the building. We were in an elegant foyer, and for a moment I was transfixed by a chandelier that hung from the ceiling and sparkled like a jewel.
Then I was seduced by the overpowering scent of a spray of beautiful flowers that sat on a side table.
“Mr. Dzenis told me that we should hurry. ‘Everybody is waiting for you,’ he said. I was curious—who was everybody, and why were they waiting for me? But another part of me was confused and angry—I was still thinking about my duties and my comrades in the troop. ‘What could be more important than that?’ I thought to myself.
“We climbed the stairs to the top floor and outside the door to the apartment Mr. Dzenis smoothed my uniform and hair.
“The door opened and we stepped inside. The entrance hall was softly lit by lamps that seemed to flicker—like the Aladdin’s cave of my imagination—and the moments after that were equally dreamlike. Out of nowhere a beautiful made-up face bent down to my level and smothered me in kisses. There was the scent of perfume; I can’t describe it apart from saying that it was like I was falling down a deep well lined with cotton wool. In the next moment I was being hugged by another beautiful lady, who made cooing sounds and smiled at me with moistened eyes.
“Suddenly it was all too much for me. I squirmed free of her arms and stood to attention, saluting wildly at her. Mr. Dzenis gave me a stern look and warned me to behave with proper manners. When I had calmed down, he introduced me to the first lady who had kissed me so much. She was Emily, his wife. ‘Call me Auntie,’ she said and then made way for the other woman who’d fussed over me already.
“She was tall and glamorous-looking, perhaps about eighteen years old. Her name was Zirdra and she was Mr. Dzenis’s eldest daughter. She had a beautiful laugh that tinkled like water in a stream. I felt instantly that she had a gentle nature.
“Another girl hovered in the background. She must have been about five years older than me. Immediately I could tell that she was a completely different kettle of fish from Zirdra. She had no intention of welcoming me in any way and instead frowned down at me contemptuously. She turned out to be Ausma, Mr. Dzenis’s youngest daughter.
“Auntie told me that Zirdra and Ausma were going to be my big sisters and that I had another sister, the middle one, called Mirdza, who was unwell and confined to her room for the evening. Later I learned that Mirdza had suffered from polio when she was younger and, though not disabled in any obvious way, her body was racked with inexplicable pains and aches. I also learned later that the three girls were all from Mr. Dzenis’s first marriage, which had ended in divorce, and that he and Auntie had no children from their own marriage.
“That first night the Dzenises gave a lavish party in their apartment. I was the guest of honor. But it was not without drama beforehand. Zirdra had tried to give me a bath and, of course, I’d not forgotten Sergeant Kulis’s warning. It was mayhem. Zirdra chased me around the room, wanting to undress me for the bath, and I was ducking behind chairs, under the table, wherever I could wriggle into. In the end she gave up, but only because the guests were due to arrive.
“The party was a great success for the Dzenis family. When I entered the room for the first time, yet again everybody stood and applauded me. I knew what was expected of me: I stood as erect as I could and proudly saluted in all directions. Everybody seemed very amused by this.
“Many of the guests were in uniform: there were Latvian and German officers with their wives. One of the German officers stepped forward and made a great show of giving me the Nazi salute. It was then that Mr. Dzenis whispered in my ear how much I should appreciate such an important soldier taking an interest in me. He told me to return the special salute, which I did. This caused another round of applause.
“Later Commander Lobe appeared.”
“So you were reunited with Lobe at the Dzenis party?”
“Yes,” my father answered. “He was in a jolly mood and seemed pleased to see me. He pulled me onto his knee and chatted to me in Latvian. He was impressed that I had mastered the language so quickly.
“At one point in the celebrations two men arrived. They hovered by the door and Commander Lobe went over to join them. One turned out to be a journalist called Arnold Smits, and a photographer whose name I didn’t hear. They wanted to take some shots of me at the party, and they got Zirdra to crouch down to my level and hug me for the camera, but I squirmed shyly. All the guests thought that this was hilarious except for me—I still wasn’t relaxed in the company of women. The commander told me that I’d better get used to being photographed with glamorous women because he had great plans to make me into a star. I didn’t understand what he meant but thought to myself, ‘I don’t want to be a star if it means being kissed by women all the time.’
“That’s all I can remember about the commander that night, but in the coming months I was to spend a lot more time with him and got to know him much better.” My father’s words sounded ominous, but instead of telling me more he lapsed into a lengthy and impenetrable silence. I had no idea what he might have been thinking.
“Anyway,” he said suddenly, “you know what kids are like at parties. I got bored and I was curious, too, about where I was to live. I decided to explore the apartment, leaving the adults to their merriment. The main hallway had doors leading off in all directions. The first door led into a study. I had never seen anything like it. It was full of books, and there was a large desk by the window. It smelled of leather and polish. It seemed so rich.
“After that I returned to the party. Zirdra spotted me slipping quietly back into the room and gave a little wave. I joined her on the sofa, and she immediately began tickling and cuddling me. After the long journey to Riga and meeting so many new people, I actually fell asleep on her lap. Later, when I awoke, the guests had gone and the maid was cleaning up. But I was still on the sofa, nestled in Zirdra’s arms.
“For a moment I remained hypnotized by the warmth of Zirdra’s body but then, as I came to, I sprang to my feet. I was angry with myself and everybody around me. ‘I must return to my comrades,’ I shouted. I’d become obsessed with the idea of being a soldier.
“Zirdra reached out to calm me down, but I pushed her aside and dashed across the room. I wanted to escape, no matter where I ended up. I struggled to open the heavy door.
“Mr. Dzenis must have heard the ruckus because at that moment he opened the door from the other side. His body blocked my way. ‘Wait. You live here now. With us,’ he said firmly. This only threw me into a deeper panic. I burst into tears.
“Zirdra hurried over to me and tried to comfort me again. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after you,’ she whispered gently. ‘I’m your sister now.’
“There was kindness in her voice and instinctively I trusted her, but at the same time the word ‘sister’ must have triggered something in me. I sobbed uncontrollably. ‘I want my own sister. My brother. Not you!’ I wailed. Suddenly there was a stony silence in the room.
“Zirdra looked into my face. ‘You have a family?’ She was astonished. ‘Where are they? Do you know?’
“You could have cut the tension in the air with a knife. Then, unimaginably, things took another turn for the worse. Ausma was fed up with my tears. ‘Why do we have to have him here?’ she complained. Then she added, ‘Let’s send him back to his real family, if he has one.’ Then something else occurred to her. ‘Besides,’ she said petulantly, ‘he’s probably a little Yid…’
“Mr. Dzenis sprang across the room and slapped her hard. She fell back into the sofa, holding her cheek and shrieking. Mr. Dzenis was shaking with rage. ‘Stupid!’ he spat at her so violently that both Ausma and I stopped crying, and the entire room fell into shocked silence.
“It was Zirdra who broke the spell. ‘Time for bed,’ she said, wiping my eyes with her scented handkerchief. Then, taking my hand, she led me to my room and sat me down on the bed. ‘Don’t you worry,’ she said. ‘We’re just looking after you until your family comes back. We’ll find them for you.’ I was forlorn at the thought. I had witnessed what had happened to my family. They were all gone. I knew that there was not a single person who would come back to me.�
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I saw grief flash across my father’s face, but in the next instant he endeavored to mask his pain with a bright smile. Quickly he dived back into his story.
“Zirdra reached under the pillow and pulled out a small blue bundle. ‘New pajamas!’ She smiled warmly. ‘Let’s put them on you.’
“After all those months sleeping rough on patrol I couldn’t have wished for more. Soft, warm, and clean bedclothes. But, of course, I wouldn’t let Zirdra near me. From what had just happened with Ausma unwittingly suspecting I was Jewish I knew with more certainty than ever that I would have to be on my guard. Always. Nobody would ever learn the truth about me no matter what happened in the future.
“Zirdra struggled to undress me for some time, but in the end I was stronger—I gripped my trousers with an incredible stubbornness—so that finally she gave up. I sat at one end of the bed and Zirdra at the other. ‘Very well then,’ she said. ‘Tonight you’ll sleep in your uniform.’ She folded back the bedcover and blankets and patted the sheet, indicating where I should climb in. I did so and she covered me. She took my face in her hands and gave me a good-night kiss on my forehead. ‘Soon you’ll get used to our ways,’ she told me. I closed my eyes and pretended to drop off to sleep. Soon after that I heard her turn off the light and close the door gently.
“I was overexcited and my head was spinning with all my new experiences. There was no way I could sleep. I lay on my side with my head still resting on the pillow. My eyes moved around the room.
“I was just about to get up and examine the room more closely when I heard footsteps approach my door and then stop. The door latch clicked open. I pretended to be asleep for a second time, but through my half-closed eyelids I could just make out Mr. Dzenis peering into the room to make sure that I was fast asleep. I heard him close the door gently. Then there was the click of the key as it was turned quietly in the lock.
“I’d been shut in like a prisoner. Perhaps Mr. Dzenis was still worried that I was going to escape and go in search of my real family.