The Heart Of A Gypsy

by Roberta Kagan

  We were then brought to a big ravine…this ravine is called Babi Yar. When I was a little girl, my mother and father would take my sisters and me to sit along the side of the gorge and we would have a picnic. There were always lots of families there, and so we had other children to play with. It is very large and deep, with lots of grass. I can remember we were told to be very careful, and my parents always watched us closely when we were at Babi Yar, because if we fell in, it could have been fatal. Somehow we never got that close to the edge. I guess we knew. But it was a lovely place; at least it was before this all happened.

  Then, as I stood in the open area with the Nazi guards on either side of me, I saw what was going on. I knew what the gunshots we heard were all about. It was here that I learned the true intentions of the Nazis. The naked, anxious Jews were led in groups of about ten, to the edge of the ravine. As the Jews were forced to stand facing away from the officers, the Nazis took their guns and shot them in the back. Then their bodies fell into the gorge. I shook with terror as my family was taken to the front. I no longer cared about modesty. I was crying and begging for myself and everyone I loved as we were being lined up. Suddenly an SS officer wearing a black uniform with dark hair and burning dark eyes came out of the group of shooters. He was yelling in German, telling the others to hold their fire. I foolishly thought that somehow we would all be spared. My two sisters looked at me, and I at them, when the Nazi came over and pulled me away. Then he raised his hand and yelled “Continue!” as my entire family was shot dead before my eyes. Their bodies fell like broken dolls into the ravine. I fell down on the ground; my legs would not hold me. It was hard to believe that what I had seen was real. My family was gone, forever, and I had no idea why I had been spared, but I wished that I hadn’t. I wanted to be with them. I wanted all of this to be over. But here I was, alive and naked, with this horrible man gripping my shoulder tightly and pulling me to my feet. I didn’t realize how tightly he was holding me until later when I saw the bruise.

  The next several hours are a blur. I remember very little. In fact, my next recollection is being transported by car to Auschwitz.

  It was there that I was sterilized as you were, and then I was brought here to this soldier house. So you see, my young friend, we all have a story. Now it is our responsibility to survive and tell the world what was done to us,” Yetta said.

  Yetta was beautiful; her eyes were the deepest green of the forest after a rain storm.

  “That’s a horrible story,” Nadya said.

  “Yes it is, and that’s why the world must know; but if we are to live to tell the tale, we must play their game at least for now. Otherwise, they will kill us. I know it’s awful, but you’ll get used to it. From the soldiers I hear that the Americans are coming with the British; they also say that Germany is losing the war. Men talk when they are in compromising positions. They will tell you their most precious secrets and their deepest fears. You’ll see. We must not give up hope. Come with me; I’ll introduce you to some of the other girls,” Yetta said.

  Chapter 61

  The gypsy camp was quiet, as if everyone had already begun mourning for Nadya. Save for the howling of a pack of wolves in the distance or the occasional hooting of an owl, the campsite was frozen in silence. The celebrations had ceased. There were no feasts or dancing. Christian sat starring into the fire long after the others had gone to sleep. For more than three weeks he’d been unable to rest, and he had lost any desire for food. His unshaven face was dirty with neglect. It had been two months since he had seen Nadya and he lived in constant fear for her safety. Ion had insisted that they wait to take any action until the Underground brought them news. Christian would not allow himself to believe that Nadya might already be dead. He was overcome with guilt at having left her alone in the first place, and he would lie awake for hours in his wagon blaming himself and going over what had happened again and again in his mind. To increase his self-punishment, he pressed his face into her pillow, breathing in the sweet floral fragrance of her hair that still lingered. It had been weeks since he’d gone to the river to bathe, and it was only with the constant prompting from Ion that he finally agreed to clean himself. Tears flowed freely from his eyes, even when he knew that everyone saw him crying. He’d lost all sense of pride. Once he had been a kind and generous man, willing to help anyone in need; now he was a bitter angry soul who was testy and annoyed by everything. The sounds of voices or laughter disturbed him, and if anyone spoke to him he refused to answer. Ion was afraid that Christian would die of a broken heart, and although he missed his sister and feared for her also, he did not blame Christian and wished that the man would find his inner strength once again. Daily they waited for news from the Underground that someone had information about Nadya. But as the time drifted past, Christian began to lose hope.

  When the leader of the Polish Underground came riding into camp one sparkling afternoon, Christian, for the first time since Nadya’s disappearance, came alive. It was a breezy day and the forest air smelled faintly of lilacs.

  Immediately the Polish leader rode his horse to where Christian stood. Ion saw the man ride up and came out of his wagon to hear the news. Overly eager, Christian tried to hold his trembling hands steady as he looked into the disturbing eyes of the Pole. The possibilities were endless, and Christian prayed that he would not hear that Nadya had perished. Standing, feeling as if his knees would buckle, Christian waited for the man to speak.

  “Christian, Ion, it’s good to see you both,” the Pole dismounted and hugged first one, and then the other. “Christian, we need your help. Of course you remember the group who you helped to find their way into the Ukraine; well they have carried out their mission. They’ve captured the Nazi officer who has the bank account in Switzerland, and after much torture they now have all of his account numbers. As I told you before, we need you because you look German; you are our best choice to send to get the money and gold. We will keep the Nazi as hostage, and once you have what we need, we will kill him.”

  Christian’s eyes turned black with anger. “Your gold be damned. Is this what you came here for, to ask me to carry out a mission? Have you found my wife? That’s all I care about, she is my life; don’t you understand? I am not helping you anymore. Go away from here. Go and find my wife…” Christian said. It took all of his self control not to beat the man to a bloody pulp.

  “I’m sorry; we have not been able to find her. I sent out feelers, but no one knows a thing. I’ll keep trying, but meanwhile we need you,” the Polish leader said.

  “Go to hell,” Christian turned his back and walked away towards his wagon. His mind was churning. There was only one option left. His secret, his shame… Christian had promised himself he would never use this avenue, but he knew what he must do. “So,” he thought, “it has finally come to this.” He swore when he first started that no matter what they did to him, he would never ask for help; he would never show the bastard that he needed him. He would never go to the man who he had once loved and now hated. But now…this…it was the only thing that would have driven him to such measures. He used to believe that honor came before everything else, but now he knew better; now he knew love came before honor. And soon his secret, the secret that haunted him every day of his life, would be revealed.

  Chapter 62

  Most of the girls wore tight skirts, and sweaters or blouses. Others walked around naked or wearing revealing negligees. Nadya hoped she would not be told she must wear a negligee, or worse, walk through the soldier house undressed. She was relieved when she was presented with a tight black skirt, a low-cut white sweater, silk stockings and high-heeled black pumps. Although the clothes were strange to her, it was better than being in any state of undress.

  Since she’d never worn silk stockings or high heeled shoes, she asked Yetta to help her. It was difficult learning to walk at first, but she knew she must agree to whatever they asked, for if she did not they had the power to make things even worse for her.
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  Meals were served in a large open area with a cafeteria-like set up. There were long wooden tables with benches throughout the room and a food line with trays at the front. The restaurant and bar were reserved for the men, but if one of the men chose they were permitted to take a prostitute to the lounge as a date of sorts. In the prostitutes’ cafeteria, each girl received a plate with real food, and those who had spent time in the camps told the others how much better they were treated in the soldier house. The prostitutes ate chicken and vegetables with bread and rice. In the camps, they were lucky to be fed a watery soup with bits of suspect material floating in it. But what a price the girls of the soldier house must pay for their small privileges.

  After Nadya was dressed, she still stumbled on the high heels, so, Yetta took her arm and led Nadya through the food line. Then they went back to Yetta’s regular table where she introduced Nadya to her friends.

  “This is Shirley, Ruth and Sara.”

  “Hello. I’m Nadya.”

  “She’s my new roommate,” Yetta said.

  “You had another before me?” Nadya asked.

  “Oh, yes, I did.” Yetta’s eyes were wistful “One of the Grupensfeuhrers got rough with her and she died.”

  “Rough?”

  “Yes, dear…pray you don’t get one of those sick ones,” Shirley said.

  Nadya had no idea of what getting rough could be, but she sat with the others as they ate and talked. Yetta wanted Nadya to find the will to go on, but even with all these girls to befriend her, Nadya still felt like a walking corpse.

  “Are there any other Gypsy girls here?’ Nadya asked.

  “Only one I know of…Tsura; she sits all alone. Most of the girls are Polish, but there are a few Jews. All together, there are only twenty five of us here. The Nazis like us to be young; none of the girls is over twenty one.”

  “Can you introduce me to Tsura?”

  ‘Sure, I’ll take you over, but she’s never really talked to me. She’s only been here a few weeks and she doesn’t seem to be adjusting well,” Yetta said.

  “Thank you. I’d like that,” Nadya answered.

  After lunch Yetta took Nadya to Tsura’s room. Tsura’s roommate was a buxom blond Polish girl with thick, full lips and bright blue eyes.

  “Hello, Yetta. Who’s your friend?”

  “Hello Anna. This is Nadya. She’s my new roommate,” Yetta said.

  “Nadya…” Anna said, nodding her head in welcome.

  “I brought her to meet Tsura,” Yetta said.

  “Oh, that one, she’s a strange bird. She won’t talk to you, she doesn’t talk to anyone. She just sits all alone.”

  “When will she be back?” Yetta asked.

  “I couldn’t tell you…I never know. And the guards don’t care as long as she’s here when the men start to arrive.”

  Just then a petite girl with skin the color of milky coffee walked in to the room.

  “This is Tsura,” Anna said as Tsura entered. Then Anna turned to Tsura and said, “These ladies wanted to see you.”

  Looking frightened, like a baby animal taken from its mother, Tsura stared at Nadya then, at Yetta. Understanding her fears, Nadya began to speak to her in Romany, the secret language of the gypsies, understood as a common bond by all of the tribes.

  A glow came over Tsura’s face as she answered Nadya in Romany. For several minutes they continued to converse. Tsura told her how she was captured when her kumpania had tried to make their way into Hungary. The rest of her family was shot on the spot, and most of their kumpania was also killed. Tsura had tried to escape into the mountains. She’d not gotten far when she was caught and brought to the soldier house. Nadya then shared her story with Tsura and the girls became fast friends.

  That night as it grew dark the men began to arrive. Nadya was sick at the thought of what was to come when she had to service these strange men. She had been excused from her duties for several weeks, until she had healed from the surgery, but tonight her reprieve was over and she had to go downstairs to meet the men, and she was afraid. She had voiced some of her fears to Yetta, who had tried to soothe her, advising, “Just close your mind; don’t think about what is happening. Force yourself to bring up a memory that brings you joy, and before you know it, it will be all over. Be strong Nadya… Be strong and survive so that you can go back to your loving husband.”

  Staring out the window in her room, Nadya watched the stars as she heard the male voices talking down the hall. She remembered once when she was a little girl an old gypsy had told her that when a man dies, a new star will light up the sky above him to guide him to heaven. She had not had a chance to look for it, but she hoped that a star had lit Hanzi’s way. In her heart, she wanted to believe that Christian would find her; that it was just a matter of time, but she was sickened when she wondered if he would still want her after all they had done to her.

  Chapter 63

  Christian left the camp without speaking to anyone…even Ion. He took the train that let him off two miles south of Auschwitz, and then he walked the rest of the way. His Aryan appearance helped him to gain access to the camp easily and he walked into the office and found the first available man, a young guard who stood in front of the door.

  “Heil Hitler,” the man greeted Christian. “Who are you and what is your business here?”

  “I am here to see Dr. Eberhart,” Christian said.

  “And who may I tell him is calling on him?”

  “Christian Eberhart, his son,” Christian said and he bowed his head in shame. The secret he’d held for so long was now spoken aloud, the words echoing through the room from his own lips. Dr. Eberhart…the cruel Nazi doctor who experimented on the innocent… That was his blood… That was his father.

  Chapter 64

  Nadya dreaded going into the ballroom and being displayed like a piece of beef or a fish at a stand in the market. Yetta helped Nadya prepare for the evening with words of encouragement. Nadya knew that Yetta too hated allowing her body to be used in such a manner, but she was a fighter and would not surrender her courage. As the two women readied themselves to make their way to the dance hall they heard a commotion. It was Tsura, who screamed in protest. A male voice shouted back at her in anger. Next they heard the sound of crashing objects and Tsura crying out.

  “Come…” Yetta pulled Nadya away from the sounds. “Don’t stand there and listen; it will only suck out all of your nerve.”

  “Shouldn’t we go and help her?” Nadya asked.

  “We cannot help her; nobody can help her. If we get involved they will only beat us too. Come, keep walking, Nadya,” Yetta said. “Don’t look back.”

  Then, when they were alone in the corridor, Yetta turned to Nadya and held her shoulders, looking deep into her eyes. “Listen to me. You can do this. You must do this. Together we will survive…soon the war will end and you can go home to your husband. But in order to go home, you have to live. So don’t think about what you are doing, just do it.” Yetta paused and took a deep breath. Then she sighed and said, “Don’t give them a reason to kill you.”

  The ballroom looked like a high school dance. Along the perimeter of the dance floor chairs had been set up. It was here that the girls were to wait to be chosen. As Nadya saw the looks on the faces of the Nazis who glanced at her with lust in their eyes, she squeezed Yetta’s arm, her heart filled with dread. Across the room Tsura entered; her eye was bruised and her lip swollen with dried blood. She sat down next to Nadya who whispered to her in Romany, “Are you all right?”

  “I will never be all right again. I am sterile and I want to die. I would rather be dead then let one of these filthy Nazis get on top of me,” Tsura answered in the language of the gypsies.

  A very young soldier walked over to where the girls were seated. Yetta felt Nadya tremble. “Shhh…be calm,” Yetta whispered.

  “Hello. Who is the pretty little Frauline?” He smiled at Nadya, who sat silently, unable to speak.

  “Nadya i
s her name,” Yetta answered.

  “Is she mute? It looks to me as if she can’t talk.”

  “Yes, of course she can talk.” Yetta pinched Nadya.

  “Hello. Yes, I can… I can talk,” Nadya stammered.

  “And you speak lovely German, if I may say so myself. My name is Rolph, and I would like to dance with you, Nadya.”

  “I’m sorry; I don’t know how to do this dance.”

  “That doesn’t matter. Come with me. I’ll teach you.”

  He was no more than twenty-two, and Yetta was glad to see that he seemed kinder than most. It would make Nadya’s first time easier. Watching as Nadya tried to dance and be gay when her heart was broken, Yetta felt tears building in the back of her eyes. What had they all come to? Yetta asked herself. But before she could answer, an SS officer reached his hand out to her, requesting a dance. How Yetta hated him as she smiled and rose to take his hand. If she could get away with it she would kill him on the spot. But instead she gave him her prettiest smile and followed him to the dance floor.