by Rona Arato
Oscar thought of the conversation in the brickyard about the Polish concentration camp. At least we’re not there. He took a deep breath. Wherever they were going had to be better than Auschwitz.
“Go!” Aunt Bella nudged her daughter as the guards ordered them into a truck.
“They never tell us anything,” Kati whispered to Oscar. “We’re old enough to know what’s going on.”
“They don’t want to scare us,” Oscar replied.
“Don’t want to scare us? How much more scared could we be?” Kati pointed to Magdi, pale as snow. “She hasn’t said a word for hours.”
Ahead of them a small girl cried out and a soldier turned his gun on her. Her mother screamed and covered the child’s body with her own. For a moment the woman and the soldier stared at each other. Then he pushed them toward the truck.
Paul climbed into the truck. His legs were trembling. He looked at his mother whose eyes were black against her pale, pinched face. He reached up and touched her cheek. “I won’t get lost again, Anyu. I promise.”
“I won’t let you.” She kissed the top of his head. She pulled Oscar to her. “You will watch over your brother.”
“I will, Anyu.” Oscar puffed out his chest. “I’m the man in the family. Apu said so.”
“Yes.” Anyu sighed. Her eyes had a faraway look. She placed her hand under Oscar’s chin. “My strong young man.”
Paul cuddled close to his mother. He rubbed his face against her dress and wrapped his arms around her waist. For the rest of the ride he held on tight, as if afraid letting go would make her disappear.
After a short ride the truck stopped. Soldiers lowered the tailgate and ordered everyone out. They lined up in front of a table where a guard entered their names on a list. A row of guards with dogs stood behind them.
Paul shivered. The soldiers were frightening, but their dogs scared him the most. They were huge. And they had sharp teeth and angry eyes.
After the soldiers recorded their names, they were taken to an open area where soldiers were spraying people with giant hoses. The guards ordered them to take off their clothes.
“Not in front of our children!” Aunt Bella begged the soldier.
In answer, he rattled the chain of the German shepherd at his side. The dog growled and lunged forward. The guard pulled him back and then pointed toward the soldiers hosing down a group of nude women.
“You go there,” he said.
Aunt Bella sighed. “Lenke, Kati, Magdi, let’s go.” They walked over to the shower area and got in line.
Oscar covered his brother’s eyes as Anyu, Aunt Bella, and the girls were forced to strip. Paul peered over his brother’s hand, but Oscar turned him around. He didn’t want Paul to see their mother struggling to cover her body with her hands.
When it was their turn, the boys took off their clothes and waited in front of the soldiers holding the hose.
“Hold on to me,” Oscar said, as the water hit them.
Before Paul could grab Oscar’s hand, he was hit with a blast of frigid water. The harsh spray stung his face, especially his eyes, and icy needles rained down his body. He turned and the water struck his back, almost knocking him down.
“Get dressed,” the soldiers ordered when it was over. Oscar helped Paul into his shirt and shorts and then dressed himself. The clothes stuck to their wet skin.
“At least we’re clean,” Oscar quipped.
The soldiers lined them up and marched them into a long, low building, where they were assigned bunk beds, three people to each level. Exhausted, they lay down, Paul on the inside, Oscar in the middle, and Anyu on the outside. The bunk was narrow and hard. Bella and the girls took a bunk across the aisle.
Oscar turned onto his side, trying to get comfortable.
“Oscar, I’m scared.” Paul whimpered
“Don’t be frightened, Paul. Go to sleep. Everything will be better tomorrow.”
“Good night, Oscar. Good night, Anyu.” Paul was too exhausted to think. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to disappear into sleep.
The two families stayed in the Strasshof Concentration Camp for two weeks. During that time they lived in the barracks and were fed watery soup and stale bread once a day. They soon realized that this was a holding camp, where people were kept until going to their final destination. Every day, new people arrived in Strasshof and others were taken away.
Anyu and Aunt Bella worried constantly about where they would be sent. Then one day, two weeks after they’d arrived, the families were loaded onto trucks and driven away from the camp.
Chapter 13
Guntersdorf, Austria
July 1944
The family stood inside a long wooden building with a dirt floor. A wood-burning stove was at the end, and bunk beds lined the walls leading up to it.
“At least this isn’t a concentration camp,” said Anyu. “It’s clean. We can live here.”
“I can smell the cows,” Paul grinned. It was good to see his mother smiling. She almost looked happy.
“I like it here,” he told Oscar, almost in disbelief. “We’re on a farm.”
That morning, when they had been loaded into one of three trucks, Paul had been scared. He had thought of his terrifying time being lost and had clung to his mother and brother. As they drove into the hills, Paul sat near the tailgate and peered through the slats. The road twisted through fields where farmers were tending their crops. He saw cows grazing on new grass.
Paul turned to Oscar. “It’s pretty here.”
“Yes, it is. It looks like the farmland around Karcag.” Oscar stood and looked over the railing.
The truck passed a horse cart filled with bags of what looked like potatoes. The man driving it averted his eyes as the truck passed. Just like the people in Karcag, Oscar thought. He doesn’t want to see us.
After an hour, the truck turned onto a dirt road and stopped. Again, they were ordered off by soldiers and put into lines. Paul forced himself to stand motionless as a soldier marched up and down the line, checking their names against a list on his clipboard. When everyone was accounted for, the soldier divided them into four groups, and then other soldiers marched each group into a barn-like structure. The inside had been emptied except for straw mattresses on the floor. Each mattress had a blanket.
“Good, I don’t have to sleep with Oscar, like in the last camp,” Paul said as he plopped down on a mattress.
“Yeah, I’ll miss your foot in my mouth.” Oscar studied their mother as she sank onto an adjoining mattress. Her glossy black hair had faded. Her eyes were dull and her shoulders sagged. Ever since the icy shower she had been coughing. He hoped rest and fresh air would make her better. He looked at his brother. Paul had regained some of his energy and was bouncing on the mattress. For once, Anyu didn’t scold him. She seemed too tired to react. At that moment two of the farmer’s workers came in with food. They gave everyone a metal bowl and a spoon. Then they ladled soup into the bowl and handed each person a slice of bread.
People sat on their mattresses eating. When they were done, they were told to keep their utensils for the rest of their meals.
“Come on. Let’s go outside and wash the dishes.” Oscar led Paul and the girls out of the barn. Their feet raised dust whorls as they crossed the yard. Paul sneezed and a chicken squawked and fluttered out of their way.
Paul stopped. “Oscar, what are those?”
Oscar looked where Paul was pointing. “Whew,” he whistled. “Mountains.”
“Like you said on the train?” said Kati.
“Yes, just like that.” Oscar had never seen mountains before either, but he knew what they looked like from pictures in a book at school.
“Why are they white?” asked Magdi.
“They’re covered in snow.” Although it was June, the peaks were capped with a frosty mantle. As th
ey watched, the snow turned rosy from the setting sun. “It’s getting late. Let’s wash the dishes and go back inside.”
“Oscar,” Paul said as they crossed the yard, “what are we going to do tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think we can go to the mountains?”
“No. We’ll have to do what the soldiers tell us.” Oscar stopped and looked down at his brother. “Promise me you’ll be good and do what you’re told.”
“Yes, Oscar,” Paul said seriously. “I promise.” He took his brother’s hand. Magdi grabbed his other hand and they all walked back to the barn.
The guards woke them at dawn and ordered everyone to line up outside. In the early morning chill, Paul shivered as he stood between his mother and brother as an armed guard walked slowly up the line and another called out names.
“Stand still,” Oscar hissed in Paul’s ear when he started to move.
Paul held his breath as the guard stopped in front of them.
“Keep still,” Oscar whispered as the guard moved past them.
He would soon learn that these lineups, or appels as the Germans called them, were the most difficult part of their daily routine. And he learned to look for the SS pins on soldiers’ collars, because those soldiers were the ones to be feared the most.
After what seemed like forever, the guard blew his whistle and everyone returned to their barn. Aunt Bella walked over as Anyu collapsed onto her mattress.
“Lenke, how do you feel?” Aunt Bella bent down and placed a hand on her friend’s forehead.
“I will live.” Anyu gave her a weak smile. “Look, they are bringing us food.”
Everyone took out their dishes as two farm workers handed out breakfast—a piece of bread and coffee. After eating, a guard ordered them to go back outside. This time, the farm owner greeted them. The guards stood in front of him, guns at their sides. Other guards patrolled the line with their dogs.
“Guten morgen,” the farmer stammered. He looked uncomfortable as he surveyed the assembled prisoners. He was tall with muscled arms. He had a farmer’s leathery skin, from being outdoors so much.
He doesn’t look mean, Oscar thought. The farmer’s wife stood beside him. She was a stout woman with blond hair, blue eyes, and a kindly face. Like her husband, she seemed uncomfortable giving orders.
The farmer cleared his throat. “You have been brought here to Austria to help us bring in a good harvest. For the Fatherland,” he added, with a sideways glance at the Nazi guards. “This farm grows sugar beets. You will work in groups…”
The farmer spoke German and one of the prisoners, a young woman who had taught German in a high school, translated his words into Hungarian. His voice droned on and Oscar used the time to look around. They were standing in front of a vast field. In the distance, he saw the mountains, now purple in the morning haze.
When the farmer finished, he stepped aside and a guard replaced him. As always, a dog hunched beside him.
“You are prisoners of the Third Reich and will do what you are told. Follow orders and there will be no trouble.” He fixed them with a steely gaze. “Am I understood?”
Oscar nodded. He looked at Paul and saw that he was nodding, too. Good. Oscar knew that his biggest challenge would be keeping Paul in line. He looked at his mother, who seemed to have gained strength since breakfast. Maybe this won’t be so bad, he thought. It’s getting warmer and we’re on a farm. Farms mean food. Maybe the war will end soon and we can go home.
Yet, when he looked at the German soldiers, so strong and unbeatable, he doubted that his life would ever return to what it was like before the war.
Chapter 14
The work on the farm was hard but not unbearable. Paul and the other young children were given jobs carrying water to the laborers who tended the sugar beet plants. Oscar and other children his age worked beside the adults. The days were warm, so their thin clothes were sufficient. Their mother washed them once a week, wrapping the boys in blankets while the clothes dried on a line outside the barn. Every night, she used her comb to check their hair for lice and made them clean their teeth with pieces of straw.
Paul made friends among the other boys and girls. When the workday was over, he’d play with them while Oscar hung out with the older children. They tried to pretend they were in a summer camp, not a German labor camp. Yet the truth crept in: when they had to line up and the soldiers patrolled them with their guns and snarling dogs, or when they worked long hours under the stern gaze of the soldiers, or, worst of all, when someone became ill and was taken away—and never seen again.
When they weren’t working, the children played skipping games or hide-and-seek, while their mothers sat and talked.
“Anyu, where is Apu?” Paul asked one day.
He was sitting outside with his mother and two other women. They had finished their supper of boiled potatoes, beets, and bread and were resting. It was early August, so it was still light at seven o’clock. Paul closed his eyes. The jangle of cowbells, the smell of freshly mown hay, and the taste of the raspberries the children had picked from nearby bushes reminded him of home.
“I wish Apu were here with us.” He gave his mother a wistful look.
“I do, too, Paul.” Anyu stroked his head. “I wish I knew where he was and that he was safe.”
“Maybe we’re better off not knowing where our men are,” said Eva, a woman from their barrack.
“Sha, don’t say that.” Anyu covered Paul’s ears.
“I know that my grandparents are dead,” Eva moaned.
“Are my grandparents dead, too?” Paul asked.
“You shouldn’t think about such things.” Anyu turned to the other women. “This is not a conversation we should have around our children. Paul, I would love some more berries.” She handed him her dish. “Please pick some for me.”
“Yes, Anyu.” He took the dish and walked to the side of the barn where the raspberry bushes grew. As he rounded the corner, he heard the women’s voices talk more.
“Our husbands, parents—they could all be dead,” Eva said.
Paul bent down and concentrated on picking as many berries as he could stuff in his mouth, then he filled his dish. It was getting dark. An owl hooted in the distance.
“Paul,” his mother called. “Paul, we are going inside.”
Paul walked back to the barrack. As he approached, the women stopped talking.
Chapter 15
In September, after they had been on the farm for almost three months, the work got harder. The sugar beets were ready for harvesting and everyone worked the fields to dig them up before the first frost. Paul was still a water boy, a job he enjoyed because he could move freely up and down the rows of sugar beets. Oscar was one of the harvesters, working alongside the adult women. He was working his row of beets when Paul came running up to him.
“Oscar, Auntie Bella wants you.”
Oscar gently pulled a sugar beet plant from the ground and put it into his basket. He looked around to make sure none of the guards were watching and then hurried over to Aunt Bella.
“What’s wrong?”
“Your mother.” She pointed to Anyu, sitting on the ground, her head in her hands.
“Anyu!” Oscar bent down. “Are you sick?”
“I’m all right,” his mother said. “It’s just the sun. It made me dizzy.”
Oscar looked up. He couldn’t see the sun. The sky was heavy with rain-swollen clouds. “Is this the first time this has happened?” Oscar asked Aunt Bella.
“No.” She shook her head. “She didn’t want you or Paul to know, but she has been ill for several weeks now.” Aunt Bella looked over her shoulder. “She has to pick her quota of beets or the Germans…” She let the sentence hang in the air.
Oscar knelt down. For the last few weeks he’d been worried about his moth
er. She was losing weight and getting weaker every day. Now, he was terrified. If she was sick, she might be sent away. He couldn’t let that happen.
“Don’t worry, Anyu. I’ll pick the beets for you.”
“No, I can do it.” His mother struggled to her feet. She bent over, reached for a plant, and collapsed. “Just another minute,” she said, shielding her eyes with her hand.
“Anyu, are you sick?” Paul appeared, holding a water bucket. He gave his mother a drink and then offered water to the others.
Anyu smiled up at him. “My little water boy.”
“Yes. I give everyone water. It’s a very important job.” Paul grinned, exposing a gap where he had just lost his first tooth.
“Go.” Oscar shooed him away. “Bring water to the others.”
Paul trotted off. Oscar reached down and plucked the sugar beet his mother had been trying to pull out of the ground. He put it into her basket and moved down the row, gathering beets as he went. When he had finished his mother’s row, he went back to his own and finished that in double time. He couldn’t let the guards realize she was sick.
He stood, stretched, and rubbed the back of his neck. Picking the beets was hard work, even for him. It meant bending over for hours at a time. His back hurt, but he was young and strong. Paul was all right because he was a water boy and thought of this as a game.
When their shift was over, everyone lined up in front of their barn. It was time for roll call. Every day, morning and evening, the German guards counted them. Sometimes they would stand in line for hours. Oscar remembered Anyu shivering as sheets of water drenched them for almost a whole day last week. The guards had laughed. Another woman had started coughing. When she couldn’t stop, a guard grabbed her by the hair, pulled her out of line, and threw her to the ground. The woman’s coughing stopped. As she crawled back into the lineup, the guard kicked her so she fell forward into the mud face-first.
Oscar vowed he would never let something like that happen to Anyu.