They compared notes. How would they support themselves? Where would they go? Did they have family they could ask for help?
As the days went by, and the ship steamed west, Lodzi and Rajski explored more of the ship, and made more acquaintances. They also met several Jewish families who were emigrating from countries not overrun by the Nazis in the war. From conversations with these people, Lodzi and his friend began to piece together what had actually happened in America leading up to the war and during the war. What they learned explained much of what they had seen and experienced.
As it turned out, they learned it wasn't until Hitler was defeated the Americans had discovered the full extent of Nazi murders in Europe.
The two Jews learned how, at the beginning of the war, the American government did not believe reports the Nazis had put in place a killing machine to exterminate European Jews. As a result, six million Jews perished at the hands of the Nazis. Then in 1942, the US government had become convinced Hitler was in fact committing genocide, and then the United States entered the war.
One man whom they met was Herman Goldman. Goldman was a low-level employee at a London bank in the decade leading up to World War II. He was a student of history, and he explained to Lodzi and Rajski what had happened in the United States that had allowed so many Jews to perish. Evidently, when Franklin D. Roosevelt became president in 1933, Americans were struggling to survive the greatest economic depression the country had ever seen. Many Americans feared needy emigrants would take precious jobs or place an added stress on an already burdened economy.
Goldman explained how America's immigration laws placed quotas on the number of people entering the United States from other countries. In September 1935, Nazi Germany passed laws depriving German Jews of their citizenship. Without citizenship, Jews were legally defenseless. Many lost their jobs and property. They were also targeted with violence and persecution. Nazi targets included countless thousands of gypsies, Catholics, homosexuals, and even the physically and mentally impaired. With so many Germans fleeing, the U.S. State Department temporarily eased visa restrictions. In 1936, the State Department approved visas for about seven thousand German refugees. By 1938, that number had increased to more than twenty thousand. But an opinion poll revealed most Americans still opposed admitting large numbers of Jewish refugees into the United States. So, the State Department refused to increase quotas any further.
The three men—Lodzi and Rajski and Goldman—were sitting at a table in the dining hall, when these matters were discussed. Rajski became visibly upset.
"So from what you're telling us, millions of Jews died, who might have otherwise been saved, if certain countries' immigration policies had been more humane."
Herman Goldman looked down at the table with his sad black eyes. He nodded slowly.
"There was nothing any of us could do or say to change things."
Rajski flew into a rage. "Did you try? Did you write letters? Did you demonstrate before the British government? Did you stand up for us at all?"
Tears came to Goldman's eyes. He shook his head sadly.
"We could have done more. I have no excuses. With one exception. There was a news blackout in much of Western Europe and in the United Kingdom. It wasn't until the end of the war Hitler's carnage truly became known to anyone, myself included."
Lodzi reached across the table and placed his hand on Goldman's shoulder. He shook his head. "No one knew. No one is blaming you now. What happened, happened. From here we can only move forward, and our only hope is that Jews will never forget."
Rajski looked at Lodzi with extreme incredulity.
"What?" said Rajski, "You will excuse people on my behalf too? I don't think so! We can never forget, never forgive!"
"This is one Jew who will never forget," said Goldman. "I vow to do whatever I can to help my fellows in America."
"That would be good," said Lodzi. "We can only hope the million other Jews steaming across the Atlantic will swear the same vow."
They all nodded. Rajski fetched more tea and water from the drink bar. He returned with a ceramic pitcher and a handful of tea bags. His hands were shaking and his pale face had turned bright red. There was fury in his eyes. The other men wouldn't meet his gaze—Lodzi, because there was no use in fighting over it, and Goldman, because he knew he would lose on all counts.
"What will you do in America?" said Goldman.
"We won't know until we get there," said Lodzi. "But we do know this. America is fair and will give us a chance that we would have no place else in the world."
"Maybe America will be fair," said Rajski. "Only time will tell." He slammed his cup into his saucer. "It would be about damn time!"
"And what of you, Goldman? What are your plans in America?"
Goldman spread his hands. "I am like you," he said. "I am the newborn lamb, unsteady on its legs, unsure what it sees, looking for its mother. My only hope is America will be a mother to us all."
* * *
While strolling the main deck on the first Sabbath at sea, Lodzi suddenly nudged Rajski.
"The man in the black sweater, you see him playing cards with the two women?"
In the shade of the forward stack, several tables were arranged and card games were underway. Rajski looked for the man in the black sweater. Suddenly he stopped walking.
"It's him!" he cried. Rajski extended his arm, pointing at the man, with his shaking hand. "Vernich! That traitorous son of a bitch. It's him!"
Lodzi nudged his friend hard and spun him away.
"Quiet, or he'll see us. Look out at the sea, don't look at his eyes."
Rajski did as he was told. Lodzi joined him, encircling Rajski's back with his arm as if talking to an old friend about the sea.
"Don't turn around. I don't want him to see us. Now let's move off to our left."
They moved left twenty paces, then looked again.
The man was wearing sunglasses and had his shirt collar turned up as if hiding his features and hiding behind his clothing.
The two men approached the table, but stood off to the side, and appeared to be in deep conversation with one another. As they spoke of nothing, they both got a closer look at the man named Vernich. A moment of understanding passed between them, a moment of agreement. Then Lodzi put his hand on Rajski's back, and moved him away, making him continue with their walk.
"It's him," said Rajski. What do we do?"
"He collaborated with the Nazis," said Lodzi. "Hundreds of Jews died because of this man. Hundreds of Jews were turned over to the Nazis for infractions they never committed, and for plans of escape they had never made."
"All to save himself and get special food."
"Yes, blood spilled for his own purposes. The worst kind of betrayal possible."
"I say we go back and grab him and throw him overboard!" cried Rajski.
"All that would accomplish would be one dead traitor and two Jews in irons again, locked away down in the brig," said Lodzi.
"Then what is our plan?"
"We must catch him alone. We must catch him alone and confront him. When we are certain, we will decide what to do then."
"How will we get him alone?"
"We will follow him. We will follow him and get to know his habits, what deck he is staying on, and who he is traveling with."
"Like us, I'm sure he has no family. Moreover, he surely has no friends, a man like that."
"Yet he is playing cards. Evidently someone on board knows him and they will notice if he goes missing."
"Would that be his wife at the card table?" asked Rajski.
"No couples survived the camps. I am certain it is not his wife. Maybe someone he has just met onboard. Now let's go around the deck, and find a place to sit where we can watch him. We will follow him when he goes to his room. Then we will make our plans."
The two men circled up to the bow of the ship and made their way down the port side and back to the first stack. When they arrived, the table Verni
ch had occupied was empty. Whether the man had recognized them and been spooked away, or whether the game had simply ended, the men weren't sure. Lodzi felt his heart sink in his chest.
"Let's take their table and think."
The men made their way to the table where Vernich had been sitting. They scraped two chairs away from the table. The wood deck was cool underfoot as they were now sitting in the shade. They both looked around. Little was said for the next hour while they waited to see if the hated one returned.
By the time one hour had passed, it became clear Vernich wasn't coming back.
"Let's make a plan," said Lodzi. "We must track this man down."
"My idea is we wait on the main deck, one at a time, for his return."
"Agree. We should each take four hours and monitor the deck twenty-four hours a day."
"I shall take the first shift, starting now," said Rajski.
Neither man had a watch. They had no way of telling time. So it was agreed when the man on watch became sleepy or hungry, he would return to the engine room, and notify the other man. They would then exchange places, and the first man would go eat or sleep, while the second man took over the watch. They agreed as best they could, they would try to approximate four-hour shifts.
Since Rajski had wanted to go first, Lodzi returned downstairs and stretched out on his pallet. Lodzi lay on his back and stared at the gray ceiling. In the sleeping room there were perhaps a dozen other people, mostly sleeping men. Half of them looked emaciated like Lodzi, so he knew their histories without saying a word. Like they knew his. Those signs were becoming automatic and, more often than not, resulted in men and women who avoided looking in each other's eyes.
It was very common for the sleeping men to cry out in their dreams. Lodzi knew the men, like him, would likely sleep restlessly for the rest of their lives. He counted himself among the severely damaged, and after several nights in the communal room and embarrassing himself awake with his cries, he began to accept his situation. He no longer gave much thought to the frightening dreams and the all-too-real feeling that he was back in the camp. Every night he would see the face of Heiss and every night he would imagine ending the Nazi's life. He closed his eyes and crossed his arm over his forehead. Within minutes he was asleep and slept more soundly than he had in years.
Later he would realize sleep came to those who acted. He realized the more he acted in defense of himself and against those who had damaged him, the better he slept. And so he decided the monsters should all die, if for no other reason than to allow pleasant dreams to accompany his journey into his soul each night. He knew Vernich was only the first of many and he accepted such knowledge gladly and with enthusiasm, for if he could relieve himself of his horrors with any kind of action which resulted in dead Nazis, he more than welcomed the opportunity.
It seemed only minutes, but it was actually several hours later, when Rajski shook him awake. It was Lodzi's turn to stand watch. He nodded in the dim light, climbed to his feet, and headed for the men's room. After relieving himself, he went back up on the four ladders and made a sweep around the main deck, keeping an eye out for their quarry. Fifteen minutes later he had returned to the table where they had stopped to talk that afternoon, and found the area deserted, as most passengers were by now in the dining hall having their supper. He considered for a minute, decided he wasn't hungry, and sat back in the chair.
Several hours later, Lodzi was back inside the converted engine room, shaking Rajski's shoulder.
"My friend," he said. "It is time to change off. I looked on the way down, it's after midnight."
"You let me sleep far too long."
"Nonsense, you needed it."
"Any sign of our man?"
"None. But we've only just begun looking. If it takes the rest of the trip, I am determined to locate Vernich and do him harm."
Even in the dark, Lodzi could see that Rajski was grinning and nodding animatedly.
"Now you sound like someone who was there in the camps with me!"
"I have been doing a lot of thinking. While I have been hoping for my feelings to change, it has become clear to me that is not going to happen anytime soon. For this reason, plus for the sake of our dead brothers and sisters, we must do what demands doing."
"We must kill the traitor."
"My thoughts exactly."
They traded places, and Lodzi quickly fell asleep. They traded off two more times before dawn, and when the sun arose on the eastern horizon over the stern of the ship, they were no closer to their quarry than they had been the day before. But they simply were not deterred. If life in the camp had taught them anything, it had taught patience. They had learned to wait and wait beyond all reason to accomplish their end.
* * *
The ship's bell chimed at four p.m., indicating the first call for dinner.
Within five minutes, Vernich appeared on deck, and caught Lodzi's eye. A woman probably in her mid-20s, dark-skinned, who Lodzi thought was most likely Eastern European, accompanied Vernich. The woman had her arm encircled through Vernich's arm and was laughing and gaily talking as they strode across the deck for the dining area. Lodzi turned his face away from the couple, hoping he wasn't recognized. He watched as the couple disappeared through the glass door of the dining hall. He half-smiled. Now he knew where they would be for at least thirty minutes.
He stood and hurried briskly to the passageway leading to his own deck. He hurried down the ladders and found Rajski asleep on his pallet. He shook him awake.
"Rajski," he whispered, as other travelers were sleeping on their pallets nearby.
Rajski's eyes blinked open. "You found him?"
"He's in the dining hall. I want you on the main deck to follow him, in case he had any kind of recognition of my face as he passed by."
"My guess is he wouldn't know me from Adam," said Rajski. "I never spoke two words to him while we were at the camp."
"Excellent. Just follow him and locate where he sleeps. We can then make our plans."
"What will we do? We need to get him alone."
"I think I have an idea. First let's locate his room and then we can talk."
"Consider it done."
"I'll be waiting right here. Hurry back."
Rajski disappeared upstairs. Lodzi found his own pallet, thirty feet away, and lay down.
He was tired, the sea air had been humid and too warm up on the deck, and his eyes were burning from the sunlight. He thought he would maybe catch a quick nap.
He considered his situation. He hadn't been free of the extermination camp long, and he still found himself easily exhausted by even the simplest task. Although he was only twenty years old, he had lost much of his muscle mass while starving in the camp, and knew it would take him a good year or two before he started feeling normal again. So he allowed himself naps whenever he was feeling tired and, at the same time, found he was eating almost constantly. He had decided when the ship made port in New York, he would look for some kind of menial work. He wanted good exercise that would strengthen his body. At the same time, he knew he wanted to find something with a future. Many years ago, as a child, he had told his father when he grew up he wanted to be a lawyer. It was still an idea half-formed in his mind.
He thought the practice of law important for a Jew. From all he had learned, the law was the key to remaining free and alive. In Nazi Germany, he had been deprived of his citizenship by a simple decree from Adolf Hitler. Now he wanted to make sure it never happened to him or any other Jew again. Maybe he would even become involved in politics, although the idea of glad-handing rankled him and was something he really couldn't envision himself doing. But then, he had already done many things in his first twenty years which at one time he would've thought impossible. So politics was definitely a possibility.
Given where he was coming from, he had many other ideas about how the Jews should live in America. Jews should be involved in banking, the arts, entertainment, all manner of commerce, medici
ne, and all professions. They would also be well advised to seek out the highest levels in colleges and universities and to become known as experts in their fields of interest. In this way, it would be very difficult for a new order to arise against all Jews and murder them as in Nazi Germany.
He daydreamed of his adopted country, which he had yet to see. He imagined the sprawl and bustle of New York and recited the address of his uncle in Chicago. He would proceed from New York to Chicago, for his uncle had written, offering him a place to stay while he made a new start. This was the smart uncle—the civil engineer—who had emigrated from Poland to the United States in 1936. He had seen the storm clouds coming and had gathered his family around and explained why they must immigrate to America. Lodzi's father had strongly disagreed but had wished his older brother well. His father had perished at Auschwitz and his uncle had prospered in Chicago.
Lodzi shut his eyes and thought how different things might have turned out if his father only hadn't been so stubborn. His breathing deepened and, for the first time in a year, he felt some inner peace. He thought it was attributed to his escape from Europe, his stepping away from the Old World and across the Atlantic to the New World. He smiled and soon fell asleep.
It felt like only three minutes, but he would find that it was an hour later when he awoke to Rajski shaking him by the shoulder. His eyes blinked open, and he saw his friend's smiling face.
"Got it!" Rajski exulted.
"We know where he sleeps?"
"He has his own cabin. The woman evidently stays with him."
"Tell me what you saw."
"After about twenty minutes on deck, I became fearful he would exit through the back of the dining hall and I would miss him. So I went inside, ordered a cup of tea, and set myself one table away from Vernich and the woman."
Unspeakable Prayers: WW II to Present Day (Thaddeus Murfee Series of Legal Thrillers) Page 9