by Jana Zinser
“Who will take care of Bruno?”
“I will take care of Bruno, and you will be in charge of Becca,” Sylvia said firmly. “Remember, you are the lucky ones.”
Peter reached out and held his mother’s hand. He knew his music could not save anyone. He also knew his mother was wrong. He could never be in charge of Becca. But he could not admit either to his mother.
Becca, in her nightgown, gently set her doll on top of her clothes in the suitcase. Sylvia bent down and kissed the top of Becca’s head. As she closed Becca’s suitcase, Becca’s eyes teared up. She jumped out of bed, opened the suitcase, and pulled Gina back out.
She kissed the top of her doll’s head. “What will I do without you, Gina?” Becca asked the doll, but she was looking at her mother.
At the Rosenbergs’ house, Eva placed her well-loved teddy bear in her suitcase. She was too old to care about a silly shabby, old teddy bear, but it was the only comfort she had. She sadly sang a children’s song called “The Sleepy Moon.”
The Moon, the Moon
The big sleepy Moon says
Goodnight to you
He’ll see you soon.
Close your eyes
Make believe and
Float away on the tune
Of the big sleepy Moon.
The Moon, the Moon.
She closed the lid of her suitcase, leaving the bear’s leg hanging out.
A few days later, Jacob and Nora found Stephen and Peter playing the card game Watten in the window seat at Stephen’s house.
“My son, we have news!” Jacob cried. Stephen looked up, frowning.
His mother smiled. “It’s good news. We received the letter. You’re going on the Kindertransport. Becca and Peter are going, too, and hopefully Hans.” Nora nodded and smiled at Peter.
Stephen shook his head and scattered the cards as he jumped up. “No! I’m not going. I will live and die with Germany!”
Jacob put his hand on Stephen’s shoulder. “Stephen, things are bad here, very bad, and they’re going to get worse. This is your chance to get out while you can.”
“To go to school, to live a regular life,” Nora said, “away from here, away from the Nazis.”
“A regular life?” Stephen flailed his arms. “With strangers in England? No, I choose to stay. I won’t go.”
“You will go. We’ll be right behind you. We’ll come to England soon,” Jacob said, firmly. “Anna hopes to hear that Hans will go, too.”
“What about Eddie?”
“Anna doesn’t want to let Eddie go. How would he survive without her? It’s amazing that she’s been able to protect him this long. He needs her. Do you understand?”
Stephen nodded.
Nora held her arms out and pulled him into her embrace. “We love you and—”
Stephen pushed away from his mother’s hug and ran out of the room.
“Stephen!” Nora scolded. “Oh, Stephen.”
Peter gathered the cards left from the unfinished game of Watten, and looked up at Nora. “He’s just scared.”
Candles lit the Vogners’ house. The electricity was still cut off, in an attempt, they thought, to run them out, but it would take more than darkness and cold, much more.
Anna hugged Hans. “You’ll leave for England in a few days. That doesn’t give us much time.”
“I can’t go, Mutti. Who will take care of you, and Oma Greta, and Eddie?” Hans asked.
Anna patted his face. “You’re a good boy. You always have been. I will take care of both of them. This is your chance, and you must take it. Sometimes you don’t get another one.”
Hans hugged his mother. “I wish Father were here.”
“Me, too. We must use his strength to get us through. We must not give up, no matter what. We are Jews, the chosen ones. We must be strong,” Anna said.
Hans nodded. “Sometimes, I wish the Jews weren’t always the ones chosen to suffer.”
Eva’s father climbed the porch steps two at a time. He ran into the kitchen, out of breath, waving a letter.
Eva was helping her mother peel potatoes, cutting out the rotten parts. Potatoes had become the main staple of their meals. Meat was hard to come by since the Weinbergs’ butcher shop had been destroyed.
“Eva, you are approved! You have a seat on the train! You leave next Saturday!” Bert said, out of breath.
Eva jumped up and hugged her father. “Oh, Papa! Thank you! Thank you!”
Helga threw down her potato. “She can’t travel on Saturday. That’s Shabbat.”
“Surely, God will understand,” Bert said.
Helga grunted her objection to her husband’s disregard for God’s laws and turned back to the potatoes.
Bert looked at Eva. “We must think about packing. You can take one suitcase and one hand luggage, and we must make you a new coat for the English winter. You’re in luck! I happen to be the best tailor in all of Berlin.”
“No, in all of Germany! Oh, Papa. It’s like an adventure you read about in books. Only it won’t be fun, because I won’t have you. What will I do?” Eva asked.
“It can’t last long. All the good people of the world will end Hitler’s madness soon. You will be where he can’t touch you. England will keep you safe,” Bert said, hugging her. “And we will come soon.”
Eva danced over and hugged her mother, but Helga shrugged her away.
“What about William?” Helga said. “What about your son?”
“William is eighteen. He’s too old to go. He hasn’t been home in weeks, and he’s made his choice,” Bert said.
“I’m going to England!” Eva said, dancing out of the kitchen.
“Why are you doing this?” Helga asked Bert.
“Don’t you understand, Helga? If the children live, our people will survive.”
Helga rolled her eyes and swished her hand through the air. “Oh, Bert, don’t be foolish. No one’s going to kill all the Jews.”
CHAPTER 12
THE BETRAYAL
(January 1939)
In the Vogners’ house, Hans pulled a book from the bookshelf. He opened it to a secret compartment cut into the pages that contained a few reichsmarks.
Hans took the remaining money inside the book and slipped quietly out the back door of the house.
He hurried through the dark Berlin streets, flinching at every shadow and footstep. He ducked behind the Rosenbergs’ tailor shop. William’s old document forger waited in the shadows with a package of food.
“Do you have the items?” Hans asked, still looking over his shoulder.
“Sausages, sugar, and butter,” the man said, opening the bundle to show Hans. These were items that were difficult to get, because stores did not want to sell to Jewish people, and the stores run by Jewish people had been destroyed.
Hans examined the items and nodded, then gave the man the money.
“Okay, I need some cooking oil next time. And some
chocolate for my brother.”
He shrugged. “It’ll cost you. Chocolate is hard to come by.”
“I’ve got to go. My family will be worried if they find me gone.”
Footsteps shuffling on the sidewalk in front of the tailor shop distracted Hans for a second. When he looked back, the man was gone.
As Hans crept down the streets clutching his food bundle, two Nazis banged on the door of the Vogners’ house. They paused to take a breath, exhaling smoky fog in the cold air, and then kicked the door open.
They tried to turn on the lights, but the electric wires had been cut. The terrifying intruders flicked on their flashlights. They knocked over furniture and destroyed anything that would break.
One of the officers crept into Anna’s bedroom and shined the light in her face as she huddled in the corner. “You are all under arrest! Get dressed and come immediately!”
“What? What is happening?”
He pushed her out to the hall, where Oma Greta and Eddie cowered in their nightclothes. Anna looked around for Hans, but the flashlights shone in their faces, making it hard to see.
One of the officers pointed at Eddie. “How did this one slip by?”
The other officer shrugged. “Get dressed. Polish Jews were deported to Poland, but somehow you were missed. We will make up for that now.”
Oma Greta hugged Anna.
“They’re sending me back,” Oma Greta whispered. “They found me.”
“We are sending you all back,” the officer said, overhearing her.
“But I’m the only one from Poland. They are Germans. Let them stay.”
“My orders are for all of you. Deportation to Poland, it says. There should be four Vogners.”
“My son Hans is not here,” Anna said.
Eddie clung to his mother. “Mutti, why do we have to leave? We didn’t do anything wrong.”
Anna patted Eddie and gently pried his hands from around her arms. “I know, dear. Now, get dressed. Wear something warm. Everything will be okay.”
Eddie shook his head. “Mutti, the rabbi says God doesn’t like it when you lie.”
“That’s enough, Eddie. Do what I say,” Anna said, sternly.
“Is there a problem?” the Nazi asked.
“Yes, there is a problem, a big problem,” Eddie said, nodding.
Anna grabbed Eddie’s arm and steered him toward his room.
Eddie whispered angrily. “The problem is Herr A. Dolf Hitler.”
Anna shook her head and gave him her scrunched-eyes-of-mother-disapproval. “Hush, Eddie. Hush, now. Do you want to get us killed?”
Eddie shook his head. “No, Mutti. I don’t want to get us killed. That would be bad.”
Peter, Stephen, and Becca ate apple strudel at the kitchen table. Nora had used up the last of her baking supplies to make them a goodbye treat.
“Are you ready to go tomorrow?” Peter asked Stephen, as he took a big bite of the pastry.
“The only reason I’m going is because Hans is going,” Stephen snarled.
“Maybe, you can get placed together with a nice family,” Becca said, “like Peter and me.”
Stephen shrugged. “I hope there’s a swimming pool we can use.”
“I hope they have apple strudel,” Peter said, as he ate another bite.
Despite his foul mood, Stephen laughed.
Hans slipped in the back door of his dark house with his bundle of food purchases. He was used to the house being dark, but a few steps into the kitchen, he fell over something and hit the floor hard. He sat up and felt what had tripped him: one of the kitchen chairs, splintered into pieces.
As he looked around in the shadowy gloom, he realized all the furniture was knocked over and smashed. His shoes crunched on the broken china littering the kitchen floor as he walked into the next room.
He negotiated around the debris and quietly tiptoed up the stairs. He stepped into Anna’s bedroom, but no one was there.
“Mutti? Oma? Eddie?” he called in a whisper.
No answer.
He hurried out and into Oma Greta’s bedroom. Oma was gone, too.
Panicking, he dashed into Eddie’s bedroom, no longer careful about making noise. Eddie’s bed was tossed. His dresser drawers were pulled out. His pajamas lay on the floor, as if he had just stepped out of them.
Hans stood there, staring around him in disbelief. The Nazis had come for his family, while he was scrounging for food, leaving them unprotected.
Hans, still carrying his food package, felt around in the dark till he found his carefully packed Kindertransport rucksack. It had been knocked into a corner. He grabbed the letter telling him what time the train left the next day, which still waited on the top of his chest of drawers.
There was nothing else he could do. The house was no longer safe.
He fled back out onto the dark streets.
At Eva’s house, there was a sudden, insistent knocking on the door.
Bert slowly opened the door. Eva and Helga watched from behind him.
The Schmidts were on the front steps. Olga’s father stood nearest the door, his fist raised to pound the door again. Olga, dressed in a League of German Girls’ brown uniform with a red kerchief and a swastika on her armband, stood smiling beside him and her mother.
“This house is now ours,” Olga’s father said, almost shouting.
“No,” Bert said, staring at his neighbors of fifteen years. He tried to close the door, but Olga’s father held it open with his foot.
“We don’t need your approval. Evacuate the premises, immediately,” Olga’s father said.
“No!”
“Haven’t you heard? Tonight is our revenge. You have ten minutes to get out, or I call the police and tell them you are a thief. And tonight they will be not be on your side. They will finally see things my way. So unless you and your family want to be arrested, you should leave quickly,” Olga’s father snarled. “There is no reason for you to have such a nice house.”
Eva stared at Olga, who giggled into her hand. Eva scrunched up her fists, ready for a fight. Bert gripped her shoulders.
Olga suddenly sprinted past Eva and up the stairs. Eva broke free of her father’s restraining grasp and chased her. Bert ran after them.
Eva ran into her room after Olga, who flopped onto the big lacy bed. As Eva threw herself at her old friend and pulled her long blonde hair, Olga screamed.
Bert pulled Eva off the flailing Olga. He pointed to her Kindertransport bag standing by the door. “Eva, get your things. It’s time to leave.” The calm in his voice was forced.
Eva jerked up her suitcase and glared at Olga. Glancing at Eva’s sock drawer, Olga leaped across the bed, her feet sinking into the soft mattress. Eva dropped the suitcase, and dove for the sock drawer, but Olga got there first and grabbed the sock containing Eva’s secret stockpile of reichsmarks.
Bert put his arm around Eva and pulled her to him. He spoke in a firm, hushed tone. “It’s over, Eva. Let it go. There are more i
mportant things now.”
Olga’s father’s footsteps clomped, as he quickly climbed the stairs.
Eva stopped, breathing heavily. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, as she glanced over at Olga, who clicked her heels together and gave the Nazi salute.
“Sieg heil!” Olga said.
Eva’s eyes opened wide. She gritted her teeth and lunged for Olga, but Bert was faster. He grabbed Eva and her Kindertransport bag with the reluctant teddy bear inside, and pulled her out the door.
Peter, Becca, and Stephen sat down with their parents for their last dinner in Germany. No one spoke. Peter looked around the table. Stephen’s family was kind. At least his mother would have a comfortable place to live, and Nora would help her take care of Baby Lilly. “Be grateful for small things,” he remembered his father telling him. “If you work hard, you can make your own luck.” His father’s luck had run out.
After dinner, Peter took out his violin and, at his mother’s urging, played “With God by Our Side.” The grownups sang, the impending loss of their children weighing heavily on their hearts. Peter’s penetrating notes chased the sullen Stephen out of the room.
We are marching forward with God by our side.
We will not leave our path, for He will be our guide.
Hold my hand, lift our voices in prayer across the land.
For we have made our choices, and together we will stand.
Hans walked the dark, empty Berlin streets, trying not to be seen as he made his way toward the Levys’ house. He planned to stay there until the Kindertransport left.
As he rounded a corner, he came face to face with a policeman. Hans jumped back, his heart pounding.
“What are you doing out here?” the officer demanded.
Hans looked around. The Levys’ house was within view, but he could not put them in jeopardy. The large brick building down the block was the Jewish Children’s Orphanage. He pointed to it. “I’m late. They will beat me and make me scrub the floors.”