My Holocaust Story: Hanna

by Goldie Alexander

  He took off his glasses and blinked at me short-sightedly. ‘What can I do? I’m as caught as you are in the hell. Equally powerless. There are many of us back home that also hate Hitler and his henchmen. But if I, if we dare protest, we are sent to prison or shot.’

  I knew that what he was saying was true. So far I had kept myself alive while my entire world was being destroyed. If I didn’t hold to who I knew was my friend and who was foe, how could I ever hope to survive?

  He shook his head. ‘This world is so removed from any kind of humanity. We are all in terrible danger, no matter what side of the wall we are on. No-one will ever be free of what is happening here.’

  He reached into his pocket and took out a handful of notes. ‘Take it.’

  I shook my head. If I took his money, he would see it as an act of forgiveness and I didn’t know how I felt about that.

  ‘Don’t be foolish,’ he insisted. ‘It’s all I can do. Please let me help you.’

  I needed the money for Ryzia and Adam. There was no point in surviving this long and then dying from pride. I took the money and ran. I didn’t thank him. But the soldier had given me a lot to think about.

  It had never occurred to me that many Germans might be as unhappy as we were. So many of us, on both sides of the war, were victims of Hitler’s vision of evil. Elza and Anya had paid the ultimate price when they could have chosen not to risk their lives. This sad, desperate German soldier had made a choice too. He tried, in the only way within his power, to show kindness. I realised that not everyone on the other side was our enemy.

  Despite my hunger and fear, knowing this—and knowing that there was a resistance movement, Jewish partisans, and the Home Army, who were all doing their best to fight against this new world of destruction—gave me a little bit of strength.

  I could only hope it would be enough.

  When I got home, Adam was waiting for me in the passage. He was crouched down with Ryzia, who was playing listlessly with her peg doll.

  Adam whispered, ‘Mama.’ He didn’t need to say anything else. I understood.

  ‘It happened so quickly,’ he said. His face was expressionless. He must have felt as numb as I did.

  ‘There was no warning.’ Adam’s words suddenly tumbled out in rush. ‘She said she had a sore throat, her cheeks were red and she got hotter and hotter. She kept throwing off her blanket and muttering. About cake. Oh I don’t know what she was saying! She hadn’t eaten for so long and she was so weak.’ Adam paused for breath, but just for a moment.

  ‘I tried to put the blanket on her, it was freezing outside, and Ryzia tried to soothe her. There was no doctor to find, too many people have gone or have been taken away. And now Mama!’ Adam started sobbing now, big huge gulping sobs.

  Ryzia looked up at me silently. I picked her up.

  She was so hot … far too hot.

  ‘Adam! She’s burning up!’

  We took her inside the room, where I sponged her face and neck with a wet cloth to bring her temperature down.

  I sang to her the song Mama always sang to her. She tossed and turned, sweat pouring off her little body. I stroked her hair but she’d push my hand away, and then reach out to grab it again.

  Eventually she fell asleep, exhausted.

  I told Adam to sleep too.

  I couldn’t shut my eyes. Every time I did, images of Mama and Papa, Zaida and Elza broke my heart into pieces.

  I watched my brother and sister sleep until the grey light of dawn came through a crack in the blacked-out window.

  That morning, only Adam woke. Our sister was dead.

  There was no-one left to mourn Mama’s and Ryzia’s deaths except me and Adam and Janusch. Together we carried their seemingly weightless bodies out to the street. There we waited for the cart that would take them to Cmentarz Zydowski to be buried in a mass grave.

  ‘It will be our turn next,’ Adam said miserably. ‘We have no money, no food. How can we possibly survive?’

  Until that moment, I had forgotten about the money that the German soldier had given me.

  ‘I have money,’ I said, pulling it out of my pocket.

  ‘How did you get that?’ Janusch cried.

  I explained, and together we counted the notes. If we could find food to buy, it was enough to keep us alive. For a while at least.

  ‘I have another idea,’ Janusch said. ‘We could try to get out of the ghetto, and join the partisans. Someone I know can help us.’

  Adam looked at him, then at me.

  ‘What choice do we have?’ Janusch said. ‘We starve or get killed in the street. Or we’re rounded up and taken off to Treblinka. Each of those choices means we die.’

  ‘Janusch is right,’ my brother said fiercely. ‘There’s nothing here for us. Given we were going to die anyway, why not die fighting?’

  Standing there, next to the bodies of the last of our family, what could I do but nod helplessly.

  ‘Just tell me what to do.’

  The following morning I went to see Eva.

  ‘Oh, Hanna!’ she said, embracing me after hearing my news. ‘But are you really going to leave?’

  ‘You are my only reason to stay here now. And I wanted to ask if you could come too?’

  Eva looked at me. Then her eyes clouded over. ‘Do you still have that note from the book of Ruth I gave you?’

  ‘Of course, always.’ I fished it out of my pocket and read, ‘Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay.’

  ‘I wish that were still my answer but I can’t go with you. I can’t leave poor Mama. Not now. And you can’t stay.’

  ‘I don’t know how to say goodbye to you.’ I said, my throat tightening.

  ‘Then don’t,’ she responded, kissing me gently on both cheeks as a silent farewell.

  That night, Adam, Janusch and I went through our belongings, such as they were. I put on all the clothes I owned and some of Mama’s. I put my tattered gymnastic ribbon and Eva’s lucky silver rabbit in a pocket. They were the only things I wanted to take.

  Adam carefully placed his violin on his bed and stood up to leave.

  ‘You sure you don’t want to take it with us?’

  He nodded. ‘It’s no use to me now.’

  ‘Best to travel light,’ Janusch said.

  I took one last look at the rooms that had been our home for almost two years. They weren’t much to look at, and any memories worth keeping I would carry with me. There were too many things I just wanted to forget.

  We set off, using the same underground route through the cellars that Karol and his gang had used. Once outside the ghetto, Janusch led us through the streets. ‘Move fast, stay in the shadows, and don’t look nervous,’ he warned us.

  ‘Easier said,’ I muttered.

  Within a few minutes we had entered a house, and made our way down to the cellar.

  Two young men were waiting to meet us.

  They wore similar shabby clothes, their skin was sallow, and their faces unshaven. There was nothing about them that hinted they were Jews. No star on their clothes to identify them.

  Janusch introduced us. ‘This is Pieter,’ he said, pointing to the taller one, ‘and this is Mariek.’

  We shared what little food we had as Pieter and Mariek explained that they belonged to Hashomer Hatzair, a Jewish youth group that had joined forces with the ZOB.

  ‘Which is?’ Adam asked.

  ‘The Jewish Combat Organisation,’ Mariek answered. ‘We’ve started working with the Home Army.’

  ‘We’ve all lost family and friends. Not many of us have anyone left,’ Pieter said. ‘But this isn’t the time for us to mourn. Instead we must do what we can to stop them destroying us completely. Now it’s time to fight back.’

  Janusch and Adam nodded in agreement.

  ‘We’re going to fight to our last breath, Mariek said vehemently. ‘We’ve got nothing left to lose.’

  Soon we were joined by two girls. One introduced herself as Sonia, t
he other as Sophie. I think they were both in their late teens. They wore men’s clothes and caps and were treated like brothers.

  They greet us warmly. Sonia had brought me a pair of boy’s trousers and some boots that didn’t leak too badly.

  ‘Do you know how to use a pistol?’ Sophie asked me.

  I shook my head.

  ‘Don’t worry, you’ll learn quickly, I’m sure,’ Mariek said. ‘These girls are crack shots. They’ve taught me a thing or two,’ he added and laughed.

  ‘Like what?’ Adam asked.

  ‘How to blow up a house. How to load a machine gun.’

  I was impressed.

  ‘Shall we start now?’ Sonia asked.

  ‘Now? Learning to shoot?’ I didn’t realise we were to start training immediately.

  ‘No?’ Sonia threw her head back and smiled. ‘But there’s a few tricks you can learn to defend yourself. Pieter, do you mind standing over here?’ She motioned for Pieter to stand just in front of her. Quick as a wink, he was lying on the floor with Sonia’s foot planted firmly on his chest.

  ‘Again?’ She smiled at Pieter. He stood up, grinning sheepishly. Sonia grabbed his arm, and showed me how to twist behind him. She moved fast, and before I knew it, she had pushed Pieter face forward onto the floor.

  ‘Do you want to try?’

  ‘I’m a lot smaller than you,’ I said doubtfully, ‘but I’m game.’

  ‘It’s technique, not size, that you need. Give it a go.’

  I copied every movement Sonia showed me, and to my amazement, Pieter was on the floor once again.

  ‘Hey, you’re pretty nimble,’ Mariek admitted.

  ‘My sister did gymnastics for years.’ Adam’s voice was full of pride.

  That was the first time I had heard him praise my gymnastics. I’d always believed he thought it frivolous.

  ‘Let’s get some sleep,’ Sophie suggested. ‘And tomorrow we have a job for you to do.’

  I felt a huge urge of excitement. I hadn’t felt anything like this since my performance in front of those German soldiers. I had been so miserable in the past few months I had forgotten the words that had sustained me those long months in the ghetto: ‘Pluck and courage … pluck and audacity.’ I repeated them over and over.

  I settled into a corner of the cellar and slept more soundly than I had in years.

  The next morning, Sophie gently shook me awake.

  ‘C’mon,’ she said.

  ‘You’re to meet our commander, Mordechai Anielewicz, today.’ Pieter said. ‘And then we’ll work out the best way you can help.’

  ‘You’re all small, and that helps with smuggling,’ Mariek said. ‘There’s a lot of ammunition needing to be moved.’

  ‘And with a bit more training, you’ll be a force to be reckoned with.’ Sonia winked at me as she said this. ‘You especially. You’ve got fire in your eyes this morning.’

  It was true. I had woken up with a sense of purpose. I couldn’t wait to get going. After years of hiding, and persecution, I finally had a chance to do something positive. I had a chance to work with people with a common cause. I remembered Zaida’s words: ‘In the end they can’t win. The final triumph must always go to a just cause.’

  Adam leaned over and took my hand. ‘Do you remember when you told me the story of The Scarlet Pimpernel?’

  ‘Of course I do. Why?’

  ‘You told me that he worked with a band of friends, and together they worked to save others.’ He smiled. ‘Look around you.’

  I looked around, at Adam, Janusch, Sophie, Sonia, Pieter and Mariek, and smiled back. ‘Of course. We’re part of a cause now. A just cause. One worth dying for.’ I held onto Adam’s hand tightly.

  ‘And one worth living for?’

  I nodded.

  After all, it is what we had promised.

  HISTORICAL NOTES

  The Holocaust occurred during the Second World War when Hitler was leader of Germany. It is thought that the Nazis murdered as many as 17 million innocent people they considered ‘unworthy of life’. This was a time of devastation, corruption and cruelty.

  Adolf Hitler was an aspiring Austrian artist who had fought for Germany in the war. After Germany lost the First World War, it was left almost destitute. People were looking for someone to blame.

  In the early 1920s Hitler became involved in German politics, and in 1923 his fledgling fascist party attempted a coup, know as the Beer Hall Putsch. It failed and Hitler was sent to jail for treason. There, he wrote down his political beliefs in a book he titled Mein Kampf, ‘My Struggle’.

  Hitler’s beliefs were divisive and destructive. He believed that the Germans were a ‘master race’, that he labelled ‘Aryans’. He blamed the Jews for everything that had gone wrong, although this was completely untrue. He considered Jewish people, and also gypsies and others, to be less than human. He promised that when he became ruler of Germany that he would rid the country of all Jews.

  Hitler was released from prison, on the eve of the Great Depression. The terrible poverty that was running rife in the country, and Hitler’s gifts as a speaker, combined to convince the German people that they were a great race who had been wronged.

  Hitler became Reich Chancellor of Germany in 1933, and Fuhrer of Germany in 1934.

  As soon as Hitler became Chancellor he began to make laws that removed rights from the Jewish population. Attacks were made on Jewish businesses and homes. On 9 November 1938 many Jewish homes and businesses were burnt down or vandalised. This night was called the Kristallnacht or ‘Night of Broken Glass’.

  Other countries, including Britain and France, were very unhappy about the direction that Germany was taking. There were diplomatic talks, but to no avail. In September 1939, Hitler invaded Poland.

  In 1939 to 1940, the German army conquered much of northern Europe. When they took over a city they forced all the Jews of that city into an area called a ghetto. These were fenced in with walls and barbed wire and heavily guarded. There was never enough food, water or medicine. Many families were forced to share a single room. But the Nazis’ major aim was to place all Jews, plus all gypsies and any mentally and physically handicapped people, into concentration camps where they would die. Concentration camps were prison camps where people were forced to do hard labour. The weak were quickly killed or starved to death. Some concentration camps also had gas chambers. Large groups of people were led into these chambers and poisoned.

  If families escaped being rounded up and were able to hide, they and their rescuers faced many challenges. They were forced to hide in cellars and attics where they had to keep quiet for hours on end. In rural areas, children lived in barns, chicken coops, and forest huts. Any conversation or footsteps could start a police raid. During bombings, Jewish children had to remain hidden, unable to reach the safety of shelters. Under these conditions, the children were bored, frightened and often killed.

  Some children could pass as non-Jews. They had to carefully conceal their Jewish identity from neighbours, classmates, informers, blackmailers, and the police.

  Living as a non-Jew required false identity papers, which were often gained through contacts with the anti-Nazi resistance forces. Using these papers, Jews took on another name. But these papers were risky since Germans and police examined everyone’s identity documents as they searched for Jews and resistance members.

  Some Jewish children did survive because they were protected by kind people. Some Catholic convents in German-occupied Poland took in Jewish youngsters. Some Belgian Catholics hid children in their homes, schools, and orphanages. Some French Protestant townspeople sheltered several thousand Jews. In Albania and Yugoslavia, some Muslim families concealed youngsters.

  Children quickly learned to master the prayers and rituals of their ‘adopted’ religion. Many Jewish youngsters were baptised into Christianity, mostly without their parents’ knowledge.

  Finding a rescuer was difficult, particularly one who would take care of his or her charges
for a period of years. Some people took advantage of a persecuted family’s desperation by demanding money, then reneging on their promise of aid. Or worse, turning them over to the authorities for bigger rewards. More commonly, stress, anguish, and fear drove these benefactors to force Jewish children away from their homes.

  Organised rescue groups frequently moved youngsters from one family or institution to another. In the German-occupied Netherlands, Jewish children stayed in an average of more than four different places; some changed hiding places more than a dozen times.

  Among the most painful memories for hidden children was their separation from parents, grandparents and siblings. For a variety of reasons—the lack of space, the inability or unwillingness of a rescuer to take in an entire family, or parents deciding not to abandon other family members in the ghetto—many Jewish children went into hiding alone. Separation tormented both parents and children. Each feared for the other’s safety but they were powerless. For many hidden children, the wartime separation became permanent.

  A hidden child’s safety and security demanded strict secrecy. Foster families claimed the child was a distant relative, or a friend, or the surviving member of a bombed-out household. Convents and orphanages hid youngsters’ Jewish identities. In some rescue networks, parents were not permitted to contact their children or know their whereabouts.

  The children themselves understood the need for secrecy. They kept away from situations where their true identity might be exposed, held fast to their false names and religion, and avoided mannerisms or language that might be construed as ‘Jewish’ or ‘foreign’. Jewish children who lived in hiding generally were treated well by their rescuers. But not always.

  For ‘Aryan’ looking school-age children that were being hidden, the routines of going to class and studying helped to restore some sense of normality in their lives, and perhaps their new-made friends helped. Children who were physically concealed had few opportunities for formal study, but when possible, they too tried to educate themselves through reading and writing.