The Last Train

by Rona Arato

  Paul turned to his mother. “Anyu, what does Apu look like?”

  Anyu broke off her conversation. “What did you say?”

  “I can’t remember what Apu looks like.”

  His mother came over and wrapped her arms around him. “Your father is a handsome man. He has dark hair, like yours, and his eyes are blue, like Oscar’s.”

  “I want to see him.”

  “I do, too, my darling boy. Soon we will go home and we will all be together and life will be like it was before.”

  Looking at his stick-thin mother and the other women, whittled by hunger to skin and bones, Paul wondered if Anyu was lying to him. He couldn’t believe that life would ever be good again.

  Chapter 21

  One day after roll call, Anyu grabbed Oscar’s hand. For once, she was smiling.

  “Uncle Elemir is here.”

  “What!” Oscar looked around the yard. “Where is he?”

  “Over there, in the men’s barracks.” Anyu pointed to a section on the far side of the yard. “I saw him in the lineup.”

  “Are you sure it’s him?”

  “Yes. He recognized us. He waved.”

  Oscar was happy to know that his uncle was close by, yet he was sad that he was in this awful place, too.

  “Let’s visit him,” said Paul.

  “No.” Anyu grasped Paul’s shoulders. “You are not allowed in the men’s camp. Don’t even think about going there.”

  Paul folded his arms across his chest. “I want to see Uncle Elemir!”

  “Paul, listen to Anyu,” Oscar begged.

  “I don’t care what you say! I want to see Uncle Elemir!”

  “Paul,” Oscar snapped. “Listen to Anyu.”

  Paul frowned. “Yes, Oscar,” he whispered and lowered his head so that his brother wouldn’t see the gleam of determination in his eyes.

  That afternoon, Paul waited until his mother fell into an exhausted sleep. Oscar was outside, playing skipping stones with a group of boys. Paul tiptoed in the opposite direction, and when he was out of Oscar’s sight, turned and headed for the men’s barracks. He was careful not to run because the guards might think he was trying to escape and shoot him. When he reached the barracks, he stopped.

  Which of these buildings was Uncle Elemir in? He looked around frantically, afraid a guard might catch him standing there. He brought his hands up to his face. They were shaking. I have to go back.

  “Paul, come here.”

  Paul spun around. “Uncle Elemir!” He jumped into his uncle’s arms.

  “Thank God, you are alive.” His uncle set him on the ground. “Who else is here?”

  “Anyu and Oscar. Auntie Bella, Magdi, and Kati are with us.”

  “How are they?”

  “Anyu is sick.”

  “What’s wrong with her?

  “She’s weak. When we line up, she can hardly stand. Oscar and I hold her up.” Paul looked up at his uncle. “Uncle Elemir, how did you get here?”

  “By train, how else? You think I was driven in a limousine?” He smiled.

  “I mean how did they catch you? Where are Aunt Lily and George?”

  His uncle’s smile faded. “When I was taken, they went into hiding in a convent. The nuns promised to protect them. I pray they are still safe. I worked in an ammunition factory until the Americans bombed it. Then the Germans brought me here.” He placed an arm across Paul’s shoulders. “Come, I have something for you.”

  He took his hand and led him into a barrack. The smell of sickness and unwashed bodies hit Paul like a slap in the face. He noticed that conditions here were even worse than in his barrack. Men lay listlessly in their bunks, their eyes sunk into skull-like faces. Paul shuddered and clutched his uncle’s hand. He choked.

  “Ah, the hot springs at the Berek this is not,” said his uncle, as he rumpled Paul’s hair. Then he went to a bunk, reached under the mattress, and pulled out a small knife and a block of wood.

  “Come with me.” He crooked his finger. “I am going to teach you to whittle.”

  They walked to a spot at the back of the barrack and sat on a bunk. “We are going to turn this into a horse.” His uncle held up a small block of wood. Then he took his pocketknife and began chipping away slivers.

  “Uncle Elemir, where did you get the knife?” Paul’s voice was filled with awe. The prisoners were not allowed to have tools of any kind.

  “I stole it from a guard.” He winked. “And the wood”—he pointed to a broken slat in the wall—“I figured no one would miss it.”

  “Really?” Paul looked at the knife in awe. “Did you fight him for it?”

  “Ah, Paul, if only I could have.” His uncle shook his head. “No, I had this knife when they took me away. I’ve kept it hidden.” He put his finger to his lips. “So, it will be our secret, yes?”

  Paul nodded. Now he had two secrets. The molasses and Uncle Elemir’s knife.

  “Paul! Here you are!”

  Paul looked up as Oscar stormed over to them.

  “Look, Oscar. I found Uncle Elemir.”

  “Hello, Uncle Elemir.” Oscar hugged his uncle. Then he turned to his brother. “Paul! Anyu is scared to death. She told you not to come here. How could you run off and frighten her like this?”

  Paul folded his arms across his chest. “I wanted to see Uncle Elemir.”

  Uncle Elemir turned to Oscar. “He is safe with me. As safe as anyone can be in this place,” he added under his breath. “So, you are all right?”

  “I am not sick. Yet.”

  “Paul tells me that your mother is ill.”

  “Yes.” Oscar blinked hard.

  “Oscar?” Uncle Elemir gave him a questioning look. “Let Paul come visit me sometimes.”

  Oscar shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “I’ll watch out for him.”

  Oscar took Paul’s hand. “Say good-bye to Uncle Elemir.”

  Paul waved as Oscar marched him back to their side of the camp.

  “Paul, what am I going to do with you?” Anyu frowned at her son.

  “I’m bored, Anyu. Uncle Elemir is teaching me to whittle, so I can carve animals out of wood.”

  “Whittle?!”

  “Carving things out of wood.” He put his mouth to his mother’s ear. “Uncle Elemir has a knife.”

  “A knife? How can that be?”

  “Shh!” Paul placed a finger on her lips. “He keeps it hidden. The soldiers don’t know about it. Please, Anyu, let me go see him. I’ll be careful.”

  “Oscar?” she pleaded.

  Oscar looked down at his brother. He couldn’t blame Paul. The days were endless. With nothing to do, they all spent their time talking, telling each other stories, or just lying on their bunks staring at the bunks above them. But sneaking from their barrack to the men’s quarters was dangerous.

  “Paul, promise me you’ll listen to Anyu.”

  “You sneak out all the time.”

  “I just hang around outside with the other boys.”

  “You never let me come with you.” Paul pouted.

  “I do it to get away from YOU!” Oscar snapped.

  “Boys, please. Don’t fight.” Anyu looked at Paul. “Oscar is right. It’s too dangerous to go to the men’s camp. Promise me you won’t do it.”

  Paul lowered his head. He bit his lip. “All right. I promise.”

  And he kept that promise. At least for the next two days.

  Chapter 22

  February 1945

  Paul crept out of his bunk. His mother was sleeping, and Oscar was outside with his friends. Roll call was over and they’d had their bread and coffee. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he slunk between the barracks where the women and children stayed and walked toward the men’s compound. He looked right
and left for soldiers and vicious dogs. He was lucky. No one was paying attention to him.

  “Uncle Elemir!” he shouted as he burst into the barrack.

  “Paul.” Uncle Elemir jumped up from his bunk. “Back for another lesson?”

  “Yes.” Paul pulled the piece of wood he’d taken with him last time from his back pocket. “The horse doesn’t have a tail.”

  His uncle patted his bunk. “Sit.” He handed Paul the knife and showed him how to scrape off bits of wood to form the shape of a tail. They worked like this for about two hours. Then he took back the knife.

  “You’d better go back. Your mother will be worried.” He stood, dusted himself off, and helped Paul up to his feet. “Go! And be careful.”

  Paul walked back the way he had come. Every few minutes he patted his pocket. Yes, the horse was still there.

  When he reached his barrack, Oscar was waiting for him. Paul looked up at his brother and shrugged. Oscar shook his head in resignation.

  Paul wanted to be a good boy and listen to Anyu, but sometimes he was so bored he couldn’t help himself. He snuck out every day to meet his uncle. It became a game. When he saw a guard, he’d hide, and then when the coast was clear, he’d keep going. He felt bad sneaking out on his mother, but he didn’t want to give up the one thing that he liked—his whittling lessons.

  But he was always scared. The guards, with their guns and dogs, were huge. He saw prisoners so thin he could count their bones. And garbage everywhere. But when he was with his uncle, he could, for a short time, forget everything that scared him and lose himself in the joy of making an animal out of a block of wood.

  Chapter 23

  March 1945

  There were no radios or newspapers in Bergen Belsen. Yet news managed to seep in. Sometimes they overheard guards talking. Or new prisoners brought information from the outside world. Germany was losing the war. It was just a matter of time before its army collapsed.

  “We have to survive until then,” Uncle Elemir told Paul. “Tell your mother she must stay strong.”

  But could she? Paul worried constantly about his mother’s health. Then one day, he saw the first spark of real hope.

  “Hey, Oscar, look.”

  Paul was sitting on a pile of rubbish with another boy, staring up at the sky.

  “What are you looking at?” Oscar craned his neck. Then he saw it: two planes were buzzing at each other, like bees out of a hive.

  “They’re German planes. They’ll probably drop bombs on us.”

  “No. One of them is British.” The other boy, about Oscar’s age, pointed. “See the insignia under its wings? It’s a target with red, white, and blue, not a swastika.”

  “What does that mean?” Paul asked.

  “It’s a British air force symbol. I saw one before the war. My name’s Marek. What’s yours?”

  “Paul. This is my brother Oscar.”

  Oscar looked at where Marek pointed. And then he whooped. “You’re right! It’s a British plane!”

  “What is British?” Paul asked.

  Oscar looked around to make sure there weren’t any soldiers nearby. “The British are people from England who are fighting the Germans.”

  By now a crowd had gathered around them. Everyone was gazing skyward as the planes swooped and dove at each other, flames spurting from their wings. There was a sudden burst of fire and one plane went spiraling down.

  “It’s the German plane!” shouted Marek.

  Everyone cheered. For a moment they forgot about the guards, the guns, and the dogs.

  Two guards appeared. Their hands were wrapped around their guns and they glared at the crowd. “Everyone, back to your barracks. Now!”

  They look angry, Paul thought. Maybe it’s because one of their planes was shot down.

  As they trooped back to the barracks, Paul grinned up at Oscar. “Does this mean the war is over?”

  Oscar looked at him and winked. “Not yet, little brother, but once the Germans lose…”

  Paul looked up at the sky. A wisp of smoke remained where the German plane had been. The rest of the sky was blue.

  In their barrack, they found Anyu lying on her bunk. When she saw them, she struggled to a sitting position. Oscar told her about the plane fight.

  “Whoosh!” he drove his hand through the air. “The British plane swooped down on the Nazi plane and BAM, shot it right out of the sky.”

  “How wonderful.” Anyu clapped her hands. “Hooray for the British.”

  “I saw it too, Anyu. The planes were fighting and fire came out of their wings.” Fists curled, Paul pointed his index fingers like guns. “Bam! Bam! Bam! Can we go home now?” he asked in a breathless voice. “Can we, Anyu? Can we go home?”

  “Not yet, I’m afraid.” Anyu pulled Paul onto her lap. “But this gives us hope that the war will end soon.” She jumped as a loud voice echoed through the barrack.

  “Outside! Everyone! Now!”

  Anyu sighed. She motioned for Paul to get up and then struggled to her feet.

  “Here, Anyu, let me help you.” Oscar took her hand. “I guess the war isn’t over yet,” said Oscar as they joined the line of people shuffling outside.

  “No,” sighed Anyu. “Not over yet.”

  Chapter 24

  April 9, 1945

  Everyone in the camp knew that Germany was losing the war. Yet in April, they were still prisoners. As the weeks dragged on, conditions in the camp worsened. The Germans had moved thousands of people from other camps into Bergen Belsen. There was barely any food or water. Typhus killed hundreds of people every day.

  The first time Paul had gone to visit Uncle Elemir, he had walked past a trench filled with dead bodies. At first he had thought the people were sleeping. But then he had seen the flies and smelled the stink. He had screamed and run away. Every day now, there were more bodies. Some were in trenches; others were stacked in piles. After a while, they didn’t frighten Paul. They were just part of life here.

  Everyone was waiting for the war to end, for something, anything to happen. Then one day, it did.

  “Out, out! Mach schnell! Move!”

  The guard’s voice exploded like a gunshot through the sleeping barrack.

  Oscar stumbled to his feet. Paul rolled off the bunk and together they helped their mother. Draping her arms over their shoulders, the boys supported her as they moved to the barrack door. Two guards were stomping up and down the aisle, prodding people who had not responded. A few did not move. Those were the people who had died in the night.

  Soon they were assembled outside along with people from several other barracks. It was still dark and the morning air was damp and cold. Paul shivered. Although it was April, it was still chilly and his clothes were little more than rags. As usual, the guards marched up and down the line, checking names on their lists. This time, however, something was different. They were not ordered back into the barracks. Instead, they were told to walk toward the front gate.

  It’s like when we came here, Paul thought. And then it hit him. We’re going back to the train!

  Paul looked up at the boxcar with dread. The thought of once again entering that dark, stinking hole horrified him.

  Just as when they arrived at Bergen Belsen, they were forced to walk for miles, this time from the camp back to the train station. Anyu barely survived the walk. How could she survive being locked back into a boxcar?

  “It will be all right, Anyu.” Oscar tried to reassure her.

  “Watch Paul,” she said. “Don’t let him get lost.”

  “I’ll take care of him, Anyu.”

  “I won’t get lost, I promise,” Paul added. The memory of that terrifying time in the Vienna train station still made him shake with terror.

  The crowd surged around them, pushing them forward until they were pressed up against the boxc
ar. Oscar hoisted himself up, and then reached down to help his mother and Paul. Oscar moved them to a corner of the car and settled Anyu on the floor. He sat on one side of her, Paul on the other. He looked for Aunt Bella, Madgi, and Kati but couldn’t find them. People continued to pile into the car until there was barely room to stand. Then the door slid shut and, once again, they were plunged into darkness.

  Chapter 25

  Farsleben, Germany

  April 13, 1945

  Paul pressed his face to the wall of the boxcar and peered through the narrow space between two boards. They had been locked inside the car for four days. During this time, the train had stopped and started many times. Once a day, the guards would release them from the cars to feed them a watery soup made of potato peels. Otherwise there was no food or water. Conditions had become so bad that it was hard to tell who was alive and who was dead.

  “What are you looking at?” Oscar came up behind him.

  “S-s-soldiers,” Paul stammered.

  Oscar peered outside. The soldiers were yelling and setting up machine guns. He closed his eyes. It’s over. They are finally going to kill us.

  “What do you see?” asked a woman behind him.

  “Just soldiers,” Oscar answered.

  “What are they doing?”

  “Talking.” Why tell her the truth? She will know soon enough. Oscar turned away when something caught his attention. What was it? Silence. The guards had stopped shouting. He looked again. Could it be true? The soldiers had dropped their weapons and were running away!