Anca's Story--a novel of the Holocaust

by Mark Williams

  I was fortunate to have been donated the ragged blanket that I had been wrapped in during our brief time with the Resistance fighters, and which I now had slung about me as a makeshift jacket, whilst it served to cover us all as we lay huddled together of a night.

  I was thankful, then, that the spring season was well advanced, the weather clement, with summer in prospect. Although I recognized progress would be slow, especially with two young children to conduct, I nonetheless estimated only a matter of days, perhaps a week at most, before we would arrive in Krakow, there to locate the camp whence Mama had been bound.

  It was not the only misjudgement I would make.

  ~

  By the third day the weather became unsettled and on the fourth it was clear our previous good fortune was at an end. The sky thus burdened by menacing storm clouds, their contents soon to be unleashed upon us, it became impossible even to hazard a guess at the sun’s position and our direction quickly became a matter for conjecture. So low were the clouds hung and so mist-ridden the valleys that even the mountains were obscured, denying us all bearing.

  The rain arrived not in drops but in torrents, with a driving wind that pierced our clothes and penetrated clean to our skin. Nor was shelter easily obtained, for the best we could do was to find a bush or small tree to huddle beneath, and the rain proved adept at attacking us from all directions, determined that no part of us should remain dry.

  At first I made light of it, applauding the thunder, feigning awe at the lightning and rejoicing in the cool rain for the benefit of Nicolae and Elone, who joined in the game with relish. But as the downpour continue unabated hour after hour our bodies became chilled such that it became ever more difficult to distract my young charges from their condition.

  Eventually the rain eased and we used the respite to move on, in the hope of locating a more substantial shelter, but wet clothes weighed down our spirits as well as our bodies.

  What had a few days before been a refreshing and invigorating exercise, donning freshly washed clothes and allowing them to dry around us in the spring sun, now became a serious discomfort which, inevitably, Nicolae and Elone found intolerable, and they soon degenerated into querulous mood that drove me to despair.

  Our sixth night was spent skulking beneath a lone tree that provided almost no shelter, in wet clothes that seemed to draw the cold winds mercilessly to them.

  It was in such a state, with both children already reduced to tears, that the words I feared most were uttered, first by Nicolae, then quickly echoed by Elone. They were, of course, asking for their mothers and, cold, wet and exhausted myself, I was simply unable to provide them with the comfort and reassurance they needed at this time.

  If they cried for their parents, my own tears were for them, and for much of the evening we wept together, until at last fatigue took its toll and sleep gained the upper hand. Helpless at this stage, I could only resolve in future to take shelter at the first sign of ill weather and not to venture on until the period of inclemency had passed, heedless of how long that policy might extend our journey.

  Such planning did not resolve the immediate problem, however, and the next morning the children were no less distressed, for though the rain had stopped and the clouds lifted, the cold winds continued to blow down from the north, chilling our bodies, with no intimation of fairer weather to come.

  As if this were not enough the ground had become a mire of mud and marsh, and as the mountains around us drew clouds to them and emptied their contents down upon us, so tiny streams turned to menacing torrents, not easily approached to drink from and quite impassable, obliging further detours that served only to confound further any sense of direction.

  Thus burdened we were increasingly weak and hungry, our bodies beset by malnutrition, unable to counter the debilitating effect of climate and terrain. Fruits were sparse, for it was still early in the year, and of vegetation there was little beyond grass and rushes, and we were obliged to content ourselves with this jejune diet of cautiously selected berries and leaves for several days.

  Only the thought of finding Mama in Krakow made possible my resolve to continue, for to turn back and head for Medgidia would have been far the easier option.

  But on the ninth day the sun reappeared, a long lost friend against a cerulean sky, and with it our spirits lifted. We began the journey to Krakow once more, taking shelter at any sign of poor weather ahead. Occasionally, we would hear wolves howl in the distance, but we were fortunate not to be bothered with wild animals, although they were a constant, if unstated, fear at the back of my mind.

  Rather it was we that posed nuisance to the local fauna, for Nicolae would take great delight in chasing any rabbit, hare or other small creature that ventured into sight, with the promise of returning with it for me to convert to a meal. I afforded myself some amusement in wondering how Nicolae would bring himself to kill such a creature in the unlikely event that he caught one, and this in turn begged the question how I would manage to cook the meat were he to succeed, for the making of fire without a sulphur-tipped match was quite beyond my abilities.

  Our Polish benefactor Karol had anyway warned us most strongly against lighting fires, for fear of divulging our position to the enemy. I had at first been dismissive of his concerns, reasoning that for us the Nazis were not the enemy, for we were but lost children. But recalling how they had massacred the innocents on the train, women and children alike, I was forced to reconsider my position. It was chance, not the fact of our age, that had saved our lives that time.

  With these thoughts in mind I lent consideration to our safety. If it had initially been my intention to foist ourselves upon the first people we came across, to seek food and directions, I now realised that, quite apart from the problem of language, we had no way of knowing how we would be received. What if they were sympathetic to the Nazi cause or otherwise ill-disposed to our well-being?

  It was a problem I tried not to dwell upon, for there was no easy solution, hoping to postpone deliberation of the matter until circumstances dictated we confront it.

  By chance that problem arose the very next day.

  29.

  It was Elone’s sharp eyes that described it; a flume of smoke above a distant woods, rising from the trees to dissipate against an azure sky.

  It had been my intention to skirt the distant forest wherever possible, for I feared wolves or bears might lend us their unwanted attention if we ventured into its forbidding shadow.

  By adhering to the highland slopes we could see in advance any threat to our well-being, man or beast, and take appropriate evasive action, I reasoned. Although thus far the only menace we had accosted was a curious mountain goat which ventured so close we could have reached out and touched its shaggy beard. In truth, I cannot say who was the more petrified, the children or I, but despite its forbidding horns the creature offered us no harm and duly went about its business indifferent to our fright.

  But now I faced an altogether more serious dilemma: to approach the hamlet whose existence we had identified by its fumes, there to enlist their generosity to our best advantage, perhaps obtaining a meal and new directions; or to avoid it at all costs, for fear we would meet a dire fate.

  Images of Nazi brutality were by now etched onto my mind, from the vicious jackboot assault upon young Elone at Bucharest station, to the machine-gun massacre we had so miraculously escaped.

  We could not know if the inhabitants were of Nazi sympathies, or worst still that it was a Nazi occupied encampment of some sort...

  Reason suggested the latter was unlikely, for if nescient of military strategy still I could fathom no purpose that an occupying force would require such an isolated settlement. I reasoned, too, such insularity favoured these sylvanian dwellers being native Poles with no sympathy for an invading, foreign army.

  With such vague and competing thoughts in my mind I decided we should make a surreptitious approach and form a final judgement from a discreet distance. Of course, wit
h my companions so young, lacking even the limited understanding of events my own twelve short years benefited me, I had of necessity to couch the proposal with a deal of fantasy.

  Nicolae and Elone were busily chattering, seated on the rocky outcrop where, Elone having first seen the smoke rising from the distant forest, I had ordered we rest. I knew that, as the sun went down or the weather turned against us so would their spirits flag and thoughts of family once again dominate their young minds. It was, therefore, a matter of some urgency to take advantage of their currently cheerful disposition.

  “Elone. Nicolae. Might I impose upon your time a moment?”

  The children looked up as one and giggled together, as if sharing some private joke to which I was not to be privy. I sat down between them, drawing them to me with outstretched arms. “Huddle up, little ones. I have thought of a new game to play.”

  “A game?” Nicolae’s eyes lit up. “What game, Anca?”

  “A game of pretend,” I said, suppressing a smile at Elone’s wide-eyed delight.

  “Yes! Let’s play pretending!” she chuckled gleefully, her eyes brighter than I had seen them for several days, almost shining behind the muddy mask that hid her face. It was some days now since I had been bothered to encourage ablutions and now reminded of this fact I determined to have us all bathe at the next opportunity.

  “Come on, Anca, what will we do?” Nicolae demanded, impatient for further detail. “What are the rules?”

  I found myself thinking fast to produce a plan that would satisfy the children and at the same time achieve our end. “You see the flume of smoke yonder?”

  All eyes turned to the forest distant.

  “What we have to do is to explore the forest and secretly, invisibly, approach the fire and get warm.”

  “What is invisibly?” Nicolae asked.

  “It means being invisible,” Elone explained, leaving my little brother none the wiser. He looked to me for further clarification.

  I lowered my voice conspiratorially and brought the two young heads close to mine. “It means without being seen,” I said. “What we must do is to try and get as close as we can to the fire without being seen by the people there. We must pretend we are invisible, that no-one can see us, by keeping low to the ground, hiding behind bushes and trees and, all importantly, being as quiet as we possibly can.”

  The children were clearly enthralled by the proposition and I felt excitement rise in my breast as I explained, for in truth I was still a child myself, whatever the unwanted burdens of adulthood that had been thrust upon me in the form of my two charges.

  Nicolae asked, “What if we are seen, Anca?”

  I thought quickly. “Then you are out! Game over!”

  Elone clapped her hands with delight. “Yes! Anca, I will be so invisible you will not be able to see me at all.”

  “And I will be so quiet you will think I am asleep,” added Nicolae, not to be outdone.

  “Do not do that, little one,” I chided playfully. “When you are asleep you snore so loud that everyone can hear you.”

  At this feeble joke the children fell about laughing, playfully emulating snoring sounds and I took the opportunity to extract myself from their company and take account of our geography more carefully.

  The forest was still some kilometres distant and the source of the smoke flume a distance further still into the woods. I studied the sky and estimated the time of day. It was gone noon and this concerned me, for I knew the forest would be dark and eerie even by daylight, and I had no wish to find ourselves lost within its murky depths after nightfall, when I reasoned hungry wild animals would be more disposed to roam.

  Would it be better to stay outside the woods for the remainder of the day and venture into their depths at first light after we had rested, allowing us more time? From behind me I heard Nicolae and Elone cajoling, demanding the game commence and knew this was not an option. I had to take advantage of their enthusiasm immediately, for who knew how long it might last.

  By tomorrow the weather might turn against us once more, dampening our spirits and weakening our bodies further. I knew also that, as we approached the source of the smoke flume that now held our attention, our very lives might depend upon the children’s conviction that the game we were playing was of paramount importance.

  With such considerations heavy on my mind and having determined an appropriate direction to reach the forest border, I gathered the children around me and we set off.

  30.

  Whether my judgement of distance was at fault, or it was simply the fact of the many detours around rocky outcrops and torrential mountain streams that delayed us, it was already dusk by when we approached the woodland border, and my heart sank at the prospect of entering the forbidding forest by twilight.

  I turned to find Nicolae and Elone crouched low behind a bush, for they had entered into the spirit of the game wholeheartedly as we had descended the steep slope towards the woods, on occasion even disappearing from my own view. In this I encouraged them with well-chosen words and vague promises of future reward, careful not to raise their hopes unduly.

  Despite the many hours the descent had taken the children showed little sign of fatigue, for the game had invigorated their spirit and pushed from their mind such mundane matters as food and family. I knew it would be a mistake to call a halt and propose we rest until dawn, for to stop now would be a disappointment to them both and allow their thoughts to dwell on less cheerful concerns.

  The distant sky was brooding and solemn, anticipating heavy rain, perhaps even storms to come, and suddenly the prospective shelter of the forest had its own appeal.

  From our new position I could just make out the flume of smoke rising above the tree tops, still distant, yet too so very close. The air was already beginning to chill as the first clouds of the advancing storm obscured the sun, and the image of a warm fire, perhaps even a meal of some description, danced before my eyes.

  Not since we had left Karol and his compatriots had we eaten a warm meal. Raw leaves, grasses and the occasional berry had been our staple diet for several days now, and the rigours of malnutrition were increasingly evident in the muddied features of Nicolae and Elone.

  It was pointless to risk another night in the cold and rain when the prospect of warmth, food and shelter were just a short way distant. If we were found to be unwelcome, what did it matter if it were tonight or on the morrow?

  I turned to the children and, raising my finger to my lips, whispered, “Here we go, little ones. Ever so quietly, ever so carefully.” I led them cautiously into the trees, adding, “Stay close, for it will soon be dark.”

  In this my prescience was to prove unexpectedly accurate for no sooner had we crossed the divide between forest and hill than twilight was upon us, the coniferous canopy above shutting out even the ecru dusk that advanced menacingly across the mountains behind us.

  At once Nicolae and Elone fell close to me, the distraction of the game suddenly of no consequence. It was not the mere fact of darkness itself that concerned them, for we had been alone in the dark many nights now. But rather the eerie, twilight silence of the forest invoked childhood images of fairy-tale demons and goblins, of witches and warlocks, and the fiercest of wolves and other ferociously hungry beasts.

  I drew the children to me and hugged them both reassuringly, though in truth it was but an act, for my own fears were barely more controlled than theirs.

  “Be not afraid, little ones,” I said quietly, feigning conviction. “There is nothing here to harm us.”

  “I do not like it, Anca,” Elone protested. “Let us go back, to the light.”

  Nicolae tugged at my arm, nodding his assent to Elone’s suggestion. “It is scary here, Anca. I am frightened.”

  I put on a brave voice. “Don’t be silly, Nicolae. Since when were you afraid of the dark? Have we not slept out in the darkness for many nights now?”

  “This is a different dark, Anca.”

  I un
derstood well what my brother meant, for the forest darkness was indeed different from the nights we had endured thus far. The evening sunlight barely penetrated the trees above and it was certain that, as nightfall came, the decrescent Moon’s silvery gleam would not be adequate to the task, even without the gathering storm clouds to contend.

  We had barely entered a few metres into the woods and already towering trunks loomed rampant from all directions, imposing and claustrophobic as an impenetrable wall. I could just make out the distant hill behind us and knew that, another few metres further, we would lose all sense of direction.

  A rabbit ran out in front of us, as surprised to see us as we it. Startled by our presence it stopped before us, ears raised, bright eyes studying our motives.

  Elone spotted it first and clapped her hand excitedly.

  “Anca! Nicolae! Look!”

  At her shout the timid creature turned on its heels and ran at lightning speed into the trees, disappearing from view.

  I seized the opportunity, saying, “Look, children, the animals are more frightened of us than we of them. See, Elone, you scared the poor creature just by clapping!”

  I clapped my hands loudly, daring any hidden fauna to challenge my authority. Of course no wild and hungry beast emerged from the darkness to do so. Somewhere above us a lone bird took flight, its wings beating the empty air loudly against the still silence of the forest.

  Nicolae clapped his hands too.

  There was only a resounding silence in reply, quite opposite to an echo, as if the trees soaked up the sound, capturing it by their very presence, determined never to let it go.

  Elone clapped with Nicolae and the die was cast, our irrational fears for now set aside. Holding one another’s hands we began to trace a path through the trees, treading cautiously over fallen branches and other pinaceous detritus that comprised the forest floor.

  After a few minutes I turned and looked behind us, hoping for the reassurance of distant daylight of the slope we had just left, but the trees had closed in all around us and only the shallow prints of our footsteps betrayed the way we had come. Above us we could just make out the darkening sky, where clouds were gathering angrily in anticipation of the storm boding. I took some comfort from the dry forest floor, confident rain would not penetrate the canopy above.