The Upside of Hunger

by Roxi Harms

  As everyone else got busy with the wheat harvest, Adam started his first term at the academic high school, meeting with Mr. Post or Miss Krause several evenings a week for extra tutoring. One evening a week he saved for band practice. It didn't occur to Adam to doubt that he could complete two years of study in one. His mind delighted in the fascinating things he was learning. Advanced math, introductory physics, ancient history, geography of the world. And living in Budapest.

  When he had a spare minute, the pain of missing Anni sometimes caught him unaware, but thankfully, spare minutes were few and far between. And with an exciting new life to look forward to, the moments of grief passed more quickly than they had.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Autumn 1943

  A couple of months passed.

  The crispness of the air spoke of winter, but Adam was warmed from the inside by beer and schnapps. At 14, he shouldn't have been drinking. Nor should he have been out until the middle of the night. And he had a stack of school assignments to do. But at the moment he wasn't worried about these things, nor had he thought about Anni the whole evening. A hiccup escaped his throat as he wove his way down the street, running his fingers through the coins in his pocket.

  That night, playing with the band at the harvest dance that the rich farmers put on every year, had been the most fun he'd had since he could remember. He wasn't really old enough to be at the dance, but the other trumpet player had left to fight and they needed a trumpet to perform the songs properly. When he'd explained that he'd be getting his share of the tips, his dad had agreed, as long as he was home by midnight.

  The dance was just like he'd always heard. Farmers' daughters showing off their new dresses trying to catch the eye of some young bachelor, and drunk farmers everywhere, buying beer for the band and throwing money into the hat at the edge of the stage. Polka, tango, waltz, polka, waltz, polka, foxtrot, waltz, polka, polka, fox trot. The evening had passed in a blur as the frequency of requests increased and the hat got fuller and fuller.

  As he neared the gate, Adam's thoughts shifted from the fun of the evening to what might be waiting for him at home. It was after two. The house was dark. Hallelujah. Walking softly into the yard, he tiptoed up the porch steps, slipped through the front door ever so slowly, and shut it silently behind him.

  "Who the hell do you think you are?" his father's voice filled the darkness. "You are two hours late!"

  "I'm sorry, Dad. It was supposed to end at midnight, but they wouldn't stop dancing! I wanted to come home, but they just kept dancing," swore Adam. Should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

  "You're going to turn out to be nothing but a bum! You're never going to learn to earn a living, staying out all night with those musicians and rich kids! What are you going to amount to?" A string of Romanian cuss words followed.

  "What's wrong, George?" said his mom softly, appearing in the bedroom doorway in her nightdress, reaching up to smooth her hair.

  "I'm going to throttle this snotty-nosed kid! He thinks he doesn't have to listen to me anymore. He's a big shot now, staying out all night with the rich kids!"

  "Adam, you promised to be home at midnight," his mother admonished softly in the darkness. Agreeing with his dad was one of the ways she tried to calm him down. She struck a match and reached towards the lantern above the kitchen table. As the soft light filled the room, Adam saw Theresa and George staring silently out from under their covers.

  He made another attempt at defending himself. "I couldn't leave. Everybody was still dancing and requesting songs and throwing coins in the basket. I couldn't just stop playing and walk out!" Then he remembered the money. "Look at this!" he said as he emptied his pockets onto the table.

  His dad's eyes grew wide. "Where did you get that?"

  "It's my share of the money the farmers paid for the music," Adam said, doing his best to hold back a smirk.

  "What in the hell did they give you all this for? That's a couple weeks' pay!" For a moment his dad looked confused, and Adam felt a moment of satisfaction. That had shut him up!

  Struggling to keep his face straight, Adam tried to explain. "Every time one of them wants to hear a specific song, he throws money into a hat on the stage. And when they all finally stopped throwing money and went home, I got my share." He let his smile show through just a bit. "That's why I couldn't leave. I had to wait and get the money. All the guys got this much! You should have seen these farmers, falling around drunk, talking louder than the next guy, showing off who could pay more for a song."

  "Playing the damn trumpet is not work." His dad looked from him to his mom, willing her to agree. "What the hell is wrong with those fools, throwing their money away like that?"

  "You know those foolish landowners, George," his mom said soothingly, laying her hand on his father's arm. "They had too much to drink."

  "I break my back for them every damn day and they pay me almost nothing, but they throw it around for a kid to blow a trumpet? No son of mine is going to earn money being a fool for those guys. You have to work for a living. Do respectable work." The fury had gone out of his dad's voice, and he sat down heavily, one arm on the table beside the money.

  The house was quiet for a few moments.

  "That's enough to buy us a couple of extra weaner pigs," his dad said, not looking at anyone. "You'd better damn well never do that again." He looked at Adam, making a half-hearted attempt to rekindle his anger.

  "I won't. I promise," said Adam.

  "Get the hell to bed." His dad stood up and walked slowly into the bedroom, shaking his head.

  His mom opened the cupboard door and took down the money jar. Scooping up the coins, she dropped them in as quietly as she could.

  "Good night, Adam." She smiled softly at him, squeezing his shoulder, and followed his father into the bedroom.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Soon fall was winter, marked by a solemn Christmas that reminded them that Anni had been gone a whole year. It wasn't just their family that was solemn. Others had lost sons in the fighting, and far more were missing their boys and wondering where they were spending Christmas.

  After more long months of evenings and weekends crammed with studying and homework assignments, spring approached, and with it, some of the optimism that came with sunshine and warmth. Thoughts of college consumed Adam. After college, maybe he would move even further away than Budapest to get a job. He didn't talk about this to anyone other than Franz. His family wouldn't be happy. But Adam was getting more excited with every passing week. He'd be a college student, living in the city. Just a few more months.

  "Okay, Mr. Post, I think this is the last one," Adam grinned at his teacher as he handed him a folder full of papers. "Unless you've found more for me."

  "No, that was indeed the last assignment in the grade ten curriculum. And Miss Krause tells me you have finished everything in her subjects and your marks have been exemplary. Your exam marks were excellent too. I have them all here for you to have a look at. So I just need to mark this paper, and you will officially be a high school graduate. Congratulations Adam." Mr. Post smiled warmly at Adam and clapped him across the shoulder. Then his face got serious. "I had a letter from the college yesterday and I have some news. It seems that they don't have enough staff left to open in September, so you may have to wait a year. But as soon as the war is over, things will get back to normal and you can start college. You'll be ready when the time comes, my boy."

  Adam stared at Mr. Post, not understanding. He felt disoriented. "What?"

  "I'm sorry, Adam. It's just a temporary setback. You've had an incredible year, and now you'll be able to have a break before you hit the books again in college."

  "Thank you, Mr. Post," Adam mumbled. Turning, he walked out of the room, and then out into the street. The war had been going on since he was ten years old. It could be years before it ended.

  Standing on the street, Adam wasn't sure which way he wanted to go. He'd been planning to go and see
Franz and announce that he was done. Turning in the opposite direction, he started to run. He didn't feel the tears that streamed down his cheeks. He just kept running.

  "The college is shutting down. Teachers all gone to fight," Adam announced in a monotone voice at supper that night. He'd spent the afternoon slowly walking back from outside of town where he'd finally stopped running.

  "Oh, Adam, after all your hard work!" his mom exclaimed.

  "What are you going to do now?" Theresa asked, her eyes full of compassion for her brother. Adam's eyes filled with tears as he stared at his plate.

  "So all this has been a waste of time?" his dad asked, dropping his fork onto his plate. "A whole year sitting around studying and taking fancy classes while everyone else in this house worked to keep food on the table, and now you can't go to college anyway?"

  "It's not Adam's fault the college is shutting down," his mom said softly.

  "Well, I will tell you all one thing. Adam will not be getting out of another year's work. Starting tomorrow, he will be pulling his weight again. And it's just in time. The Mahlers' cornfields need weeding and we can start tomorrow."

  Yep, that's for sure, thought Adam as he pushed his food around his plate. The year had been a complete waste of time. Just like the rest of his life would be if he stuck around here.

  PART TWO

  A World at War

  "Life is either a great adventure or nothing."

  Helen Keller

  Journey through war-torn Europe

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Summer 1944

  Adam and Uchie sat side-by-side, gazing out the window at the rows of young corn and wheat speeding by as the train rolled towards Budapest. It had been a couple of weeks since he'd found out about the college. Summer was still young and harvest season was a couple of months away. By then they'd be far away.

  "I wonder when we'll get our uniforms?" Adam mused out loud.

  "Dunno," said his cousin. "I'm hungry." Just then the train began to slow.

  "Here we are, Budapest. Let's figure out when our next train leaves and then have something to eat," said Adam as the train pulled to a stop. The boys got off and looked around. The station was deserted. As he thought back, a few things seemed familiar to Adam, but they'd looked different through the crack in the boxcar door. And that had been almost three years ago.

  They walked over and read the schedule posted on the wall. Plenty of time. At the side of the platform, Adam lowered his lanky frame to the ground, untied his bundle, and pulled out his pocketknife. It was quite a big hunk of bacon he'd grabbed off the kitchen counter in the dark last night. His dad would probably be mad about that.

  "Do you really think this is a good idea, Adam?"

  "Of course it is. I'm not planning on rotting in Elek," Adam snapped, his voice cracking on the last word. Annoyed, he cleared his throat. He was 15. His voice still cracked regularly. "What are we going to do, prune grapevines for the rest of our lives? German soldiers get to go everywhere. France, Italy, Russia, England, you name it." Adam cut a slice of raw onion as he spoke, then leaned back against the fence and popped it in his mouth with a bite of the smoky bacon.

  "It'll be dangerous," Uchie continued.

  Adam swallowed. "Of course it'll be a bit dangerous. But Germany has superior weapons and very good strategies. They know how to fight and come out on top. It won't be like the Hungarian army. We'll get ourselves into Hitler's elite army, where we'll get the good stuff. We already talked about all this. Don't you wanna help chase the Russians back to Siberia?" Adam said enthusiastically.

  Uchie looked doubtful.

  The boys stopped talking as a train approached and stopped. A tall soldier carrying a filthy duffel bag stepped down from a car at the far end of the platform. Vacant eyes stared forward from his weary face as he walked in their direction. A long rip down the left side of his dirty overcoat flapped in the breeze. On his collar, the SS insignia was barely visible.

  "Halt!"

  The boys started as the command rang out. They hadn't noticed the young officer striding from the opposite direction, his crisp uniform with its gleaming buttons and newly polished boots a stark contrast to the soldier they'd been watching.

  "Don't you know an officer when you see one?" the younger man barked loudly as he drew up to his full height in front of the soldier, who was taller by several inches. "You must salute an officer! Heil Hitler!" The young officer's arm flew up and locked in place in the Nazi salute, clearly expecting the weary soldier to follow suit.

  The boys watched in fascination as the tired soldier met the young officer's gaze. As their eyes locked, the soldier pulled back the lapel of his filthy overcoat, and the officer's eyes dropped to the German cross that was pinned to the worn uniform underneath.

  The soldier let his coat fall shut over the bravery medal. "Du Arschloch," he growled as he resumed walking.

  Turning to watch the soldier walk away, the officer stood speechless, his arm hanging limp at his side where he'd let it drop. As the soldier disappeared, the officer regained his composure, spun on his heel and continued his brisk pace down the platform and out of sight in the opposite direction.

  Uchie broke the silence. "We shouldn't go, Adam. Let's go home."

  Adam looked at his cousin sitting beside him. Although Uchie was two years older than him, Adam was a head taller. Uchie's eyes were brimming with tears.

  "I'm going." Adam was resolute. "I'm not going back. If you want to go back, you go, Uchie, no problem. But I'm going. I'm going to find where you sign up, and I'm going to do it. I'm not going back to Elek."

  Uchie sat quietly for a few minutes and then stood up. "I don't want to go. Keep my food." He held out his bundle to his younger cousin. "Good luck."

  Adam watched as Uchie walked back toward the platform they'd arrived at, then he got to his feet. His train was pulling in.

  "Okay, see you when I get back," he yelled.

  Uchie turned and lifted his hand in a half-hearted wave. "See you, Adam."

  Adam turned and boarded. The sign hanging from the side of the train said Vienna.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  "Vienna!" came the voice of the ticket collector over the noise of the train. "Vienna!" The voice was right outside the bathroom door now. Adam held his breath and pushed his body up against the wall behind the door as hard as he could. The door didn't open. "Vienna!" The voice was moving farther away. As Adam let out his breath, he felt the train begin to slow. Opening the door, he peeked out, then turned and checked the other direction before letting himself out into the empty corridor and casually joining the crowd preparing to disembark.

  For a minute or two he stood and watched the crowd of people on the street outside the station, rushing home after work. Then he settled on a stout, older woman to ask. She hesitated, looking him up and down before meeting his gaze. Her eyes were sad. Adam wished he'd asked someone else.

  "You still have to be 17 to sign up," she had finally answered.

  Adam had heard all about it on the radio, how Germany had lowered the fighting age to 17 to support the last big push. With battles raging on so many fronts, Hitler needed more men.

  "Yes ma'am. I just turned 17," he lied, smiling down at her politely.

  The woman sighed heavily and then turned to point back in the direction she'd come from. "It's on Gloriette Strasse. Back that way."

  Gloriette Strasse was easy to find. Adam stood there, facing a rather plain door like all the others on the street that opened into any manner of offices. This one had a number six painted on it. The sign hanging above read "Schutzstaffeln Headquarters and Recruitment." He'd made it this far. He just needed to convince them that he was 17 and worthy of being a part of the top military force in the world. He cleared his throat and reached for the doorknob.

  Thirty minutes later, Adam walked back out the door. Out on the street, he squinted into the brightness of late afternoon sun pouring between two buildings opposite where he
stood. Grenadier Baumann! He was in! He had to get moving. The recruitment officer had said the train to the training camp was leaving within the hour. Spinning on his heel the way they did when they practiced at Hitler Youth meetings, he turned in the direction of the station and marched jauntily down the street, whistling a happy tune.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Adam sat on the edge of his cot after supper. He'd been at the training camp over two months, and the excitement he'd felt on arrival was long since forgotten, replaced with a blur of yelling, marching, aching muscles, and blisters. But he was getting stronger. He didn't notice the weight of his boots anymore, even when they marched all night. Until a blister broke open mid-march. Thankfully, callouses were forming and there weren't many spots left to blister. And his shoulders and back weren't as raw from his rucksack anymore. They still ached, but he was sleeping through it now. In recent weeks the training officer had even asked him to play his harmonica on their marches while the other recruits sang army songs to pass the time.

  Absently, Adam rubbed the scabbed-over tattoo under his left arm. It was an A. His blood type. If he needed a transfusion while unconscious in the field, they'd know what type to give him. And all the needles the nurses had stuck in his rear end would protect him from getting sick. Thank God he hadn't passed out with his pants down around his knees like the guy in front of him in line. Adam grinned inwardly at the memory. How embarrassing. He hadn't enjoyed the needles or the tattooing, but after one of the officers had explained that none of the other armies had this kind of scientific smarts, he was grateful for them. Even the regular German army didn't get all these privileges. Although his feelings about the SS and the war itself would soon change, that evening Adam was still thankful he'd been accepted into Hitler's elite force and determined to make the most of the adventure ahead.