Irena's War

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Irena's War Page 22

by James D. Shipman


  “Yes,” said Irena. “I brought her here. I’m . . . I’m trying to introduce her to the true faith.”

  Peter laughed. “That won’t do her any good,” he said, reaching out to muss Kaji’s hair. “The converts still have to stay in the ghetto.”

  “I know. But it can’t do her any harm.”

  He smiled. “You’re a good woman, Irena Sendler. I’ve wondered for a long time if you might join me for a drink?” He took a step closer, his smile deepening.

  “I’m . . . I’m a married woman, Peter.”

  “That doesn’t bother me,” he said. “Your husband is a prisoner, is he not?”

  “He is. I . . . I just couldn’t.”

  Peter feigned disappointment and he bowed. “Well, it doesn’t hurt to ask. At least let me escort you back to the orphanage. It’s getting dark out there and you could get into trouble.”

  Irena could have screamed in frustration. There was nothing she could do but agree to accompany him. Peter strolled along with her through the church and back out into the ghetto. He waltzed down the middle of the street as if they were on a Sunday stroll, yammering about inane topics as if there was no war, no ghetto, and they weren’t enemies.

  They reached the orphanage a few minutes later. Irena dismissed Kaji back inside and turned to Peter.

  “Are you sure you won’t reconsider?” he asked.

  “I can’t,” she said. “But thank you for walking us here. I appreciate it,” she lied. She didn’t want Peter angry with her, and you never knew if a favor might come in handy later. There was no reason to burn a bridge even if he’d ruined her plans.

  He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Perhaps you will change your mind sometime. I like strong women,” he said, his eyes twinkling. She didn’t answer. “Well, good night, Frau Sendler. I must be going; I’ll be late for Mass.”

  He turned and strolled away, whistling and swinging his keys in his fingers as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Irena watched him go and then slunk down to the pavement, burying her head in her hands. She’d failed again. Well, she realized, not entirely. Adam was gone, and with any luck he’d reached safety. She had more time to save Kaji. She would just have to come up with another plan.

  Chapter 19

  New Friends

  July 1942

  Warsaw, Poland

  Klaus remembered when he’d met Briggita. It was late 1932. He was twenty-eight and unemployed. He’d lost his job working at a grocery store as a clerk, the only position he’d been able to find in depression-riddled Germany. He was sitting in a café, drinking coffee and reading a newspaper when she walked in with a couple of friends. They sat down at a nearby table. He’d not been able to take his eyes off her. After a few minutes she’d noticed him. She turned quickly away, but throughout their meal she’d glanced now and again at him, starting to blush each time. He’d waited until they were finished and then stepped up to the table and introduced himself. He asked her if she would stay and have another coffee with him. To the obvious surprise of her friends, she agreed.

  They’d spent the rest of the evening in that little run-down café, drinking coffee, talking and laughing. She told him about her family, how her father had lost his business and was struggling to find work. About her dreams to become a famous painter, but she lacked the funds for any more training, or even supplies. He told her of his desire to join the army, a hope that was dashed because of the strict 100,000-man limit on the German army imposed by the French and the English after the last world war.

  They began to court, much to the disappointment of her family. They considered themselves above him. He didn’t care and neither did she. She was his shining star. Everything changed after she met him. They were married barely six months later. She brought him to the Nazi party. She was a fervent believer in the new Germany espoused by the freshly appointed chancellor, Adolf Hitler. Their nation would no longer be the kicking toy of their old enemies. There would be jobs again, industry, food, vacations. Everything they’d lost in this terrible post-war environment.

  Klaus impressed the local leader. He was loyal, hardworking, and sharp. He was made a police officer in the city force. The commander didn’t like it, he wasn’t a Nazi, but he had little choice. Klaus rose quickly in the ranks. After a few months of walking the streets, he was assigned as a detective, then a commander of detectives. As the years passed, his pay increased. They moved to a larger apartment, then they saved enough to buy a flat of their own. Their little girl was born. Everything seemed set.

  Then the war began. A new opportunity came. An SS officer appeared one day at the department, looking for Klaus. They’d heard of his reputation as a fair and competent officer. His party record was impeccable. If he wanted, he could join their ranks as an officer and a member of the national police. He would have important duties in the newly occupied territories. He’d accepted, and they’d relocated to Warsaw, moving into a home and living a lifestyle they’d never dreamed of.

  Here the hard realities of the new order set in. Preparing a new Poland with German masters was difficult. The people were stubborn, rebellious. Unable to govern themselves, they resented control by the Germans. Klaus had worked hard to follow the rules laid down by Hitler, to the letter.

  “Are you already awake?” his wife asked in the darkness.

  “I have been, for a little while.”

  She moved closer to him, resting her head on his chest. “Go back to sleep, darling,” he said. “It’s still a few hours until you have to get up.”

  He put his hands on her head, stroking her hair lightly. She murmured, enjoying his touch. In a few minutes, her breathing was deeper and regular again. He pulled himself slowly away, rising out of the bed and quietly dressing in the darkness. He eased himself out of the room and tiptoed down the hall. Klaus opened another door, peering into his daughter’s room. She was there, sleeping, safe. He lowered his head, saying a little prayer for his family.

  Peter was already out front, the car running. Klaus stepped in and accepted a cup of tea out of a canteen Peter brought each morning. He looked over at his assistant’s bloodshot eyes and noted the slight grimace as he turned his head.

  “Another rough night?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” Peter mumbled.

  “Yes, I can see that. I see you’re putting weight back on again also, my friend. It’s time you lay off things.”

  “I’ll pick up my exercise.”

  “You should do more than that. Take a few months off. You have plenty of war left, to sleep with the remaining female population of the city.”

  Peter laughed. “Where are we going?”

  “We have a meeting.”

  “Right now?”

  “That’s correct. Take me to Długa Street.”

  Peter lurched the car into motion. The streets were deserted, and they made good time. Klaus sipped at his tea, trying to keep himself awake. He was exhausted from another night of bad sleep. You will not think of such things, he admonished himself. You have a job to do and you will do it. “Who was it last night?” he asked, deciding a little conversation would help him stay alert.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “Indulge me.”

  “I can’t reveal my information,” said Peter, obviously enjoying this little game. “But you would recognize the name.”

  “A celebrity then?”

  “Of sorts.”

  “A solid Aryan woman, I hope?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “I’m telling you, Peter. You need to find a good German woman and settle down. All of this tom-catting is going to be the end of you.”

  “There’s plenty of time for that when the war is over.”

  “That should be in short order,” observed Klaus. “Our armies have pushed deep into southern Russia.”

  “It’s not all good news,” said Peter. “The British stopped us in Egypt.”

  “A minor setback. Besides, that’s a
sideshow. If we didn’t have all our forces fighting the communists, the English wouldn’t last a week against us.”

  “And the Americans?”

  “Bah. They won’t be ready to fight for years. If they ever get ready. I’m telling you, Peter, a few more months and the fighting in Russia will be over. Once the Soviets quit, the rest of them will make a deal. They can’t go on without the Russians.”

  “You’re probably right,” said Peter. “Hell, you’re always right.”

  “I’m glad you’re starting to understand that,” said Klaus. “Now take my advice and cut the womanizing for a few months. Let’s say the first of the year. If you do, I’ll put you up for another promotion.”

  “I don’t have anywhere to go,” said Peter.

  “I will recommend you for lieutenant.”

  “Promotion to officer?” said Peter, musing out loud. “That would be worth a few months of clean living.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” said Klaus, laughing. “Now let’s see if you can do it.”

  “Coming up on the address you gave me,” said Peter.

  “Good. Stop here,” Klaus said.

  “You’re going in alone?”

  “Their rules, not mine.”

  Peter stopped the car and Klaus stepped out. He looked up and down the street, looking for any open curtains, cars on the street, people hiding in shadows. There was nothing to see. He stepped up to the building and gave a knock at the front door. He heard a voice inside. “It’s unlocked.”

  He turned the knob and pulled open the door. He stepped into a hallway. “It’s the door to the right,” said the voice. He opened this door too, and entered a large room shrouded in darkness. “That’s far enough.”

  “What’s with all the secrecy?” Klaus asked.

  “You’re not exactly popular in Warsaw. I can’t be seen meeting with you.”

  “What do you have for me?”

  “There’s an operation afoot to smuggle children out of the ghetto.”

  This perked Klaus’s attention. “What kind of operation?” “It’s run by egota.”

  Klaus had never heard the name before. “Who or what is egota?”

  “Your worst enemy.”

  Klaus couldn’t help but laugh. “I doubt that. These little groups crop up now and again. It’s all a bunch of secret meetings and handshakes. They hardly ever come to anything.”

  “This group is different. They have deep pockets and deeper connections.”

  “Tell me everything.”

  “I don’t know everything. But I know they have an operation planned very soon.”

  “An operation to do what?”

  “To smuggle Dr. Korczak’s orphans out of the ghetto.”

  Klaus whistled in astonishment. “There are hundreds of kids there. They could never manage it. And even if they could, where would they go?”

  “I don’t have all the details yet. But I will soon.”

  “How soon?”

  “In the next few days.”

  “And what is your price?”

  “Fifty thousand zlotys.”

  “That’s it?”

  “I will tell you the rest when I have the information you want.”

  “Fair enough,” said Klaus, turning to leave.

  “That’s not all.”

  He turned back. “What else?”

  “They have friends on the inside.”

  Chapter 20

  A Desperate Chance

  August 1942

  Warsaw, Poland

  Irena knocked at the door. She checked her watch. It was almost curfew. She’d taken a terrible risk coming here. What if they weren’t home, if they’d stayed the night somewhere else tonight? After all, the rendezvous had only been a few hours ago. If it had even gone off. Perhaps this had gone awry as well.

  There was no answer. She breathed deeply to herself. She must not panic. She knocked again. This time she heard shuffling inside. “Who is it?” came a voice.

  “Irena.”

  She heard the rustling of latches and the door opened. Maria was there.

  “Is he here?”

  “Yes, just like I promised.”

  She rushed through the door and found Adam sitting at the table.

  “My God!” he said. “Are you all right?”

  “Keep it down!” demanded Maria. “We can’t arouse the suspicions of the neighbors.”

  He rose and rushed into her arms. He kissed her on the cheeks and then the lips. She felt her heart flutter. He’d never done that before.

  Maria cleared her throat and looked at her watch. “I hate to do this to the two of you, but I remembered that my friend upstairs has been a little depressed lately. I’m going to visit with her and probably spend the night. Will you two be all right on your own?” She had a sly grin on her face as she said this.

  Irena blushed. “Yes. We’ll be fine. Thank you, Maria.” Her friend departed and she turned to Adam.

  “Is Kaji safe?” he asked.

  Irena nodded. “Yes. She’s back at the orphanage.”

  “And I’m out here . . .” he said, his voice trailing off. He disengaged and walked to the window, staring out.

  “She’s safe. That’s all that matters for now. I can get her out with the rest. It will only be a couple of weeks.”

  “And what if you can’t? What if Ewa, and Kaji, and all the rest never leave the ghetto? What about Ala? I shouldn’t have listened to you,” he said, covering his face with his hands. “I’m a coward. I’ve left them all to fight and die while I run and hide.”

  “That’s nonsense,” said Irena. “You came out because I asked you to. Kaji would be here right now with us, if it wasn’t for fate. And there is no harm. We weren’t arrested. She’s back where we know she will be okay until the paperwork and the plan from egota comes through.”

  “How do you know you can even trust them?” he demanded. “Jan could be working for the Germans. It’s quite a coincidence that this Peter shows up today just as we are trying to leave. Didn’t you say he’s a drunk and a womanizer? But he still finds time to attend Mass? Isn’t it obvious? You were betrayed.”

  “That can’t be true,” said Irena. “Jan had no idea I would use the church today.”

  “They could be checking every day!” he shouted. “Sometimes, Irena, you are incredibly naïve about the world.”

  “And what should I do? Nothing? Sit back with my books and brood about the way the world should be? Not everyone can hide in their apartment. Someone must get out there and try. No matter how messy, how reckless.” She knew immediately she shouldn’t have said these words, but she’d had too much of a scare today, and her precious Kaji was still in the ghetto. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Get out!” he shouted. “Get out of here right now! You forced me to leave when I didn’t want to. Then when I get here, you call me a coward and say you’re the only one brave enough to do anything. Get out!”

  “Please, Adam, don’t say that,” she said. “We have a night to ourselves tonight.”

  “I don’t want to touch you,” he said, turning away.

  She stepped up to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. He jerked away. “I mean it, Irena. Leave here now.”

  She stood behind him, wanting to reach out again. She didn’t want to leave. “Adam, we’ve never been alone together like this. We have a whole night . . .”

  “Go.”

  There was nothing she could do. All her plans and dreams had fallen apart today. She stormed out of the apartment, down the stairs, and into the darkness of the Warsaw streets. She was risking her life outside after curfew, but for this one night, she didn’t care. She was tired of fighting. If the Germans wanted her, they could have her. She stumbled out into the darkness, despair and the black night enveloping her.

  * * *

  Weeks passed. She tried to see Adam again, but he refused. She buried herself in her work, visiting the ghetto, spending time w
ith Kaji, and coordinating with the resistance and Jan as the paperwork progressed.

  “It’s finished,” the director said, coming into her office late in the afternoon. “It’s taken all of my effort, but I have two hundred and fifty documents prepared. How on earth will you get them into the ghetto?”

  “I won’t need to,” said Irena. “We can’t sneak the children out through one of the gates or through the church.”

  “Then how will they get out?”

  “That’s what I’m going to go and find out,” she responded.

  “How do you contact them?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, Jan, I can’t tell you that.”

  “Still don’t trust me,” he said with a wry grin. “Fair enough. But remember what I went through to get you this.”

  “I know it. And I’ll be forever grateful. I may not approve of everything you stand for, but you’re a good man, Jan. You’ve done a good thing here.”

  “I just pray it doesn’t come back to bite me, and you as well.”

  “That’s a chance we have to take.”

  “Agreed.”

  She thanked him again and then departed, walking excitedly down to Maria’s office. She found her friend with her feet up on her desk, smoking and thumbing through a pre-war fashion magazine.

  “The paperwork is ready,” Irena said.

  Maria took a deep drag, dropping the magazine down. “All right. I’ll let Julian know.”

  “Has he asked about me?”

  “Julian?”

  “Of course not. I mean Adam.”

  “Who knows. He’s moody, that one. He’s been spending all his days with his nose in my books. He eats on his own and stays in his bedroom.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Physically, he’s fine. Although he picks at his food. I’ve had to get after him a time or two. Like we can afford to waste anything in these times! Whatever is wrong with him, it’s up here,” said Maria, pointing a finger at her head.

  “I should come see him,” Irena said.

  Maria removed her cigarette. “I wouldn’t. When he does talk, it’s about you.”

 

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