by M. Ben Yanay
Janos looked at him, partly amused and partly surprised.
“I disengaged it,” said Bob. “I succeeded in pulling the car apart from the engine.”
“Did you tell Ina?”
“Yeah, she saw me.”
“Go stoke the furnace with some coal,” Janos told Bob, pointing at the back end of the locomotive. “We’ll dispose of the body on the way,” he said, as he applied further pressure to the boiler.
Ina stuck her head in through the window. Janos held her by the shoulders and helped her in. The steam boiler hissed. Janos unlocked the brakes and pulled the handle. The locomotive leaped forward with a scream as the cabin filled with smoke. The engine surged forward like a horse, rattling happily along the tracks.
The S.S. men all over the depot started running after the locomotive’s tail, firing over and over for quite a long while. A few bullets penetrated the back, hitting the stores of coal.
Bob looked carefully through the bullet holes and said, “I can barely see them now, they look smaller by the minute.”
“Where to now?” asked Ina. “Where are we going?” She smiled at Janos, and he smiled back at her.
“We’re going to Vienna, and from then on I…” His voice broke as he choked.
“To Budapest?” she asked gently.
He nodded. A glimmer of hope shined in his eyes.
“And I’m going to join my friends in the Tuskegee Fighter Group!” Bob cheered.
“And how about you, where are you going, Ina?” asked Janos.
“To America!” she cried out and gave the cable that hung from the ceiling a good pull. A loud siren followed, muffling Ina’s loud cry of “America!”
It was only then that Janos realized she had planned the whole thing in advance. She never meant to return to the partisans’ lair. She kept her plans to herself. I should never have feared her or suspected her. But still… He summarized his thoughts. Better safe than sorry.
7. Journey into the Unknown
Ina watched the road ahead attentively while both men kept busy, Janos driving and Bob feeding the furnace with coal. She looked sideways, carefully examining the rows of trees on either side of the tracks. She leaned her arms against the window, stuck her shoulders out the window, stretched her neck out like a stork, and turned her face up to the sky. The cold air hit her face; her eyes watered and her nose ran. She surveyed the tracks and racing wheels, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She loved the monotonous sound of the wheels. As she drew her head back into the cabin, she removed the fur hat, ran her fingers through her hair and quickly braided a large tuft around her skull. She then quickly put her hat back on. She swayed slowly from side to side, and back and forth. The whisper of steam from the boiler and the sound of coal burning in the furnace made her calmer than she had felt since joining the Red Army.
She suddenly felt the engine slowing down. The wheels sounded as though they were faltering here and there. The trees that had taken the form of a long green sheet were now becoming visible in greater individual detail. The wind all but stopped. The engine roared in protest but eventually had to stop.
“What’s wrong?” asked Bob. “Why did we stop?”
“First, we have to remove the poor driver’s body. Second, on account of the two small flags with swastikas up front. We must remove them before any Russian bombers spot us and bomb us… Apart from that, I don’t know about you, but really have to relieve myself.”
“You are right.” Ina laughed and opened the locomotive’s door. Bob followed her and jumped out. He held the motorist’s legs and pulled his heavy corpse toward the entrance. Ina glanced at him briefly. “Wait, I’ll help you remove his body,” she said as she lifted the man’s shoulders from the floor. His head moved around, almost to the point of falling off his neck. She had a look of horror and disgust on her face. Bob secured the motorist’s legs around his thighs and held the motorist’s thighs as he pulled him forcibly, knocking the body onto the soft snow. He pushed it aside slowly and cleared the way for Ina.
“Keep close!” called Janos and began climbing carefully over the metal ledge that stretched from the wheels through the cabin all the way to the locomotive’s front end. He removed the first flag, then the second, and placed them in his pocket.
If I had a red flag with a hammer and sickle, thought Janos, I would hoist it there instead. Yet, who knows, perhaps it would make better sense to push on without any identification marks. He jumped down to the mud and hurried after his friends toward the trees. When he finished his business, he wiped his behind using one of the Nazi flags and felt tremendous satisfaction.
“On we go!” he declared, thrilled, and waited for his friends to board the engine. He unlocked the brakes, increased the flow of steam and pulled the locomotives lever. It began to move, first slowly and unsure, then, as Janos increased its speed, with greater certainty and conviction.
“I see planes!” Ina warned them.
Up in the sky, not too high up, she saw dozens of large aircraft moving from east to west. A squadron of smaller fighters flew over them at a higher altitude.
“These are bombers accompanied by a fighter squadron that provides them with defensive cover,” said Bob when he saw them approaching.
He quickly turned away from the furnace and looked up. “Yeah, the big ones are PE-8s. They are heavy bombers, most likely on their way to Germany. I can tell that the aircraft over them are Mig-3 fighters. They’re protecting them.”
Suddenly, two fighters broke from the formation and dived.
“They’re coming at us,” said Janos.
The two fighters leveled over them in a roar at low altitude. They reached the locomotive but did not fire. Two more fighters came further down, matching the locomotive’s speed, then circling overhead.
“They’re trying to identify us,” Bob said, sounding worried.
“We bear no markings,” said Janos. “I hope they don’t decide to shoot.”
While both men got tense and waited for the worst to come, Ina took her fur hat off, let her blond braided hair down and displayed her head out the window. She waved enthusiastically and blew kisses at the pilots. Her hair and kisses blowing in the wind made the necessary impression on the pilots, who speeded up and joined the rest of the aerial formation.
*
Bob looked at his watch. “It’s going to get dark soon.” He stoked the furnace with more coal as Janos drove on and Ina watched the road. The sun continued its course, now moving beyond the forest. Not a cloud in the sky. “We’re in for a cold night,” said Bob. “We’ll have to spend it in the cabin.”
They saw burnt remains of tanks and armored vehicles by the side of the tracks. Some had a coat of snow. Most of the vehicles’ wheels were covered by snow, and only a few were submerged in it.
“This looks pretty fresh,” said Janos. “A battle no more than two, possibly three days ago. The snow put the fire out. No sign of smoke.”
“Look at the frozen bodies,” Ina commented. “A whole lot of subjects for pathology classes at uni.”
“I had no idea you had a sense of humor,” Janos responded.
“I’m not joking,” she replied and faced him. “Medical studies require dissecting bodies. There’s so many of them here. I’m interested in finding out whether German corpses have any unique Arian traits, or whether this is another run-of-the-mill kind of human race.”
“There’s no chance of any physical differences. All they have are twisted minds to set them apart,” said Janos. “And besides, how can you learn about humanity from those who lost theirs?”
“I think you’re right from the moral point of view. But this is about science. I’m curious to use science to get to know the roots of evil. Where does it come from and does it leave its mark after death?”
“I see you two are engaged in a philosophical debate,” Bob called to them. “Look closely; the sky is getting dark. Black clouds of snow are after us. We seem to be in for a storm. The sun is
setting, and it’s gonna get dark soon. I suggest we do not continue our journey in the dark. We might run into some barrier or get derailed.”
“And I think,” said Janos, “that we shouldn’t take the risk of turning the headlights on. Someone might notice them and use us as targets.”
“In that case, we’d better stop soon and get ready to sleep. I’m dead tired.”
“No, Ina,” said Janos. “We cannot afford such luxury. We must keep watch.”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“Listen, Ina. We’re in a dangerous area. There were some battles here, recently. It’s reasonable to assume the soldiers back at the depot called for reinforcements, and that someone is pursuing us. You never can tell. We might be under attack, and then again maybe not. Regardless of us stealing this engine, another train might appear right in front of us or right behind us. We must be ready either way. We mustn’t be complacent.”
“You raised many scenarios; each of them could be disastrous for us. So what would watching for them do?” She barely managed to keep calm and not raise her voice at Janos.
“I’m slowing down and stopping,” Janos said in a calming tone. “We’ll divide the shifts between us. Each will stand guard for four hours, and should the night end peacefully, we’ll resume our journey when daylight breaks. Ina, would you be willing to take the first shift?”
“And what should I do?” she asked, reluctantly.
“Wake us if you see any lights.”
“And then what?” asked Bob.
“We’ll jump off the engine and run to the woods to hide.”
“And what if someone appears on the tracks?” Ina inquired.
“Then we will avoid a collision,” Janos answered patiently.
“Before we jump, let’s turn on the headlights,” said Bob. “I think it is our humane duty. Even in war, there are rules you cannot abandon. We must provide a warning in advance. This is an unbreakable code.”
“Right, OK. I understand. Who should awake after me?”
“Wake me up, and then I’ll wake Janos up when it’s my turn,” said Bob. “When you complete your shift, you can sleep eight hours straight.”
“That’s a real comfort; I’m looking forward to it. Go on, off to sleep!” she rushed her friends.
Janos and Bob got ready for sleep at the back end of the locomotive cabin. They sat on either side, stretched out their legs, and tried to find a comfortable position.
8. Ina On the Lookout
Ina settled into the driver’s seat and laid her rifle on her knees. She strained her eyes looking out through the dark. The whole world gave in to the cloak of night as dusk set in all at once. It took only a few minutes for Janos and Bob to fall sound asleep.
How did I get to this sorry state? she asked herself. Me, Ina Mishkof, a medical officer in the rank of Mladshy leytenant [historic Russian military rank equivalent to junior lieutenant or second lieutenant in various armies] in the Red Army, daughter of Vladimir Anatoly Mishkof, party secretary at the Rostov Oblast [administrative region], running away from my homeland, headed to the unknown in a stolen locomotive in the company of a Hungarian Jew and an African American pilot.
She closed her eyes. Oh, even I don’t believe all this is happening to me. She pinched her nose hard, as her beloved grandmother who brought her up used to do to her whenever she took to daydreaming. Ina soon pulled herself together and looked closely out into the dark.
*
Ina’s thoughts drifted to the prisoners’ camp she spent four months in. One hundred and eighteen days, each worse than the last. At first, she tended to believe the Germans might assign her to one of the sheds that served as makeshift emergency surgical units and put her professional abilities to use tending to the injured. Three or four days passed without anyone calling out her name. She had been part of a group of a dozen women that were taken captive and was sent out to fill bags with sand. She breathed sand from sunset to sundown. Her tender hands had blisters within hours; her arms and shoulders ached, each bone in her back and both her legs cried out in pain. Only after filling thirty bags and having received permission from the duty sergeant were she and the other women allowed to sit and rest for ten minutes.
At times, she feared she would not be able to get up after the break. Nevertheless, the price she would have paid for such an offense would have been steep. So, she gathered what strength she had, leaned on the shovel, and got herself up. It took her body a few days to adapt to the new situation. Her blisters grew a rugged skin coating, her arms stiffened, and her legs hardened. One morning, she discovered one of the other women’s bed was empty. She had vanished from the shack. Then she heard a rumor that the woman had fled from camp and that her fate was unknown.
Ina believed that woman managed to escape. The idea crept into her mind as well, but in the evening, as she stumbled back to her bed, she fell right to sleep without a single thought, too tired to form some purposeful action in her mind.
A chance to consider an escape occurred to her only after she had been sent to fetch supplies from the parking area at the camp’s entrance to the kitchen in its center. She was carrying large sacks filled with potatoes on her back. She saw two wires hanging between two poles along the perimeter patrol route next to the barbed wire fence surrounding the camp.
I shall flee tonight, she decided. I shall do it before anyone notices the hole in the fence.
Hope can muster enormous strength. It can quell any fear and confer powers and abilities you never knew you had in both your mind and body.
Ina felt hope surging deep inside her as her heart beat with excitement. She waited for the right moment impatiently. Pale lights lit as the sun set. The women gathered in the sleeping shed and paired up on their way to the showers’ shed. The guard patrolled round the sheds and watched them as they came and went. Another pair of women was about to go shower.
Ina watched the guards and saw they were facing the showers’ shed, their backs turned toward the sleeping shed. So, she waited. After both women got out, she slipped away after them and began running toward the fence, heading directly to the hole she had seen earlier. Her legs carried her quickly, and when she got there, she saw no one had fixed it. She managed to pass through without touching the wire and kept on running, much like a terrified gazelle being pursued by a pack of hunters. She ran until she crossed the first row of trees and reached the thicket. Then, she stopped to catch her breath. She kept going without knowing where to.
Her mission was to get as far as possible from camp, so she made her way in a straight line and then in a winding line. As the dim light of dawn broke, she decided to stop. She climbed a tree and tried to catch a glimpse of her surroundings, but without success.
Exhausted, she came down from the tree and rested for a moment. She leaned against the trunk and let her body fall slowly to the snowy ground.
Her eyes nearly closed, but the wetness she felt coming from her clothes encouraged her to get up and arrange a makeshift cot using two nearby stumps. She lay on the hard wood, shivering and freezing. As she awoke, the wood was dark, but she did not know whether this was because it was nighttime or a whole day had passed. She could not tell how long she had slept or how far she got from camp.
She felt very heavy, unable to move her arms and legs. Conscious of this, Ina began moving her limbs by the sheer power of her thoughts. She barely moved from side to side, left and right, until she regained the flow of blood and her stiffness subsided somewhat. She pushed herself onto the snow and began rolling. Her body woke back to life. As she finally got up to her feet, she took a branch and stretched her arms, holding each end. She spread her legs wide and moved her hips in small, circular motions.
Then she heard a rustle, and then another, and another. Ina froze. Her only weapon was the branch she clasped. She then heard a deep voice, telling her, “Don’t move!” in Russian.
He was a burly man with a big black beard. He had on a long bl
ack coat and a fur hat. He surveyed her closely as he pointed his weapon at her and instructed her to sit. He then began circling her in ever widening circles. He stepped around very attentively, canvassing an area spanning about ten square feet. When he was satisfied, he removed his scarf and handed it to Ina. “You’re all by yourself, right? Here, cover up; it’s made of a woolen Army blanket I cut. What’s your name?”
“Yes, it’s just me. My name is Ina. Ina Mishkof.”
“Where do you come from?”
“I escaped from the Stalag 23 prisoners’ camp.” [Stalag: German term for prisoner-of-war camp—Kriegsgefangenen-Mannschafts-Stammlager. Stalag is short for Stammlager]. “I was caught last May during the battle in the Lake Ladoga region. I do not know today’s date, but it was a pretty long time ago. It has been nearly four months since then.”
“Yes, nearly four months,” confirmed the partisan. “You must be hungry and thirsty, but I have nothing on me. I am on my way to get supplies from an abandoned depot, though. You can come with me or wait for me here. You can also get the hell out. What is it going to be? I must move on and return this evening.”
“Aha. So what time of the day is this now? Oh, I see, it’s morning now. Yes, I’ll come with you. Is it far? Never mind, I’ll try to match your pace. Where do you need to go back to?”
“Let’s go. No more talking. I’m Gregory. Come.”
*
Ina fit in with the forest underground group spread in deserted ditches originally used as hideouts during storms. Gregory told her, “This is a safe place. It was used by either soldiers or hunters. I’m taking you to my ditch, the eastern ditch. We’re nine. Along with you, this makes ten. I’ll watch you personally. Don’t worry.”
Each of the other ditches housed ten people as well. Apart from Ina, there were two other women in the southern ditch. The other ditches were home to strictly men. She felt no discrimination on their part. The burdens were shared equally with each and everyone doing their utmost to the best of their ability. A sense of equality, sacrifice, and mutual loyalty abounded. Everything was done communally, following consultation. It took Ina about a week into her stay to discover that one of the men was a kind of authority, serving as a commander of sorts for the entire ditch. She did not bother to ask whether this was a senior ranking person or whether he was elected. Even after three months in the company of the forest bunch, she still recalled the way they welcomed her on the first evening. They gave her boiled snow to drink, disinfected her wounds and bandaged them, and then laid her on a mattress and covered her in a pile of woolen blankets.