War Torn Love

by Londo, Jay M.

  Sis must have somehow known perceived this was going to happen, what she was asking me to do, oh my, realizing she was asking me to raise her one and only daughter as if she was my own! Then I had begun wondering what of on the men’s side, who exactly was being sent to the work camp, and who was being sent to the concentration camp. Oh, my God! My husband and Poppa, and brother-in-law were they, or weren’t they? My breathing became labor intensive. It scared me just thinking about it, so since I actual had no way of knowing whether or not they were or were not, I would just had to assume the positive outcome, that is that they were all sent to a work-camp like me. They were strong, and all go workers, they would see that when they looked at them. I would had to exploit this believe to try keeping myself going. So no matter what I was going to believe that.

  As sick as this all was presently making me feel. I had to remember what both my loving husband as well as my darling sister both unselfishly asked of me. And why it was they both made me promise, I could see for good reason, it was all for my own good, I guess I just had not really seen that until just now. Not fully understood it - they both knew that I would be tested in the days, and months to come.

  I now had their children to think of, that was much bigger than just me. I was not about to let either of them down, they were both counting on me to come through. I looked down and suddenly it dawned on me that I had two little girls that needed me very much and that other than me they were both all alone now. And If I was scared, then I could be sure that both these girls were doubly scared as I was -they were confused what was happening to us. I also realized that if Marym does not survive this all, than a huge wonderful piece of her lives on through her beautiful daughter, she looks just like her Momma at this age, so as long as her daughter lives, than my sister does live as well. I will tell her all the stories of her mommy I could recall. That is what Sis would had wanted me to do, no, no, I had to stop thinking as if she is already gone, and that is what she wanted me to do!

  We walked straight into a long warehouse, where the clothes were beginning to finally doled out to each of us. Growing up in the clothing business, you could be assured that these striped camp fatigues were not much to look at, the pair that were being handed to me were two sizes two big, more made for a man’s body than a woman’s, I do not think they care. Not even asked our size. With these pajamas we were not given any undergarments what so ever of any kind what so ever, a pair of wooden shoes, and no socks. The shoes proved uncomfortable. Each of the girls pairs of camp fatigues were the same thing. I had to roll up the legs, and arm on both their pair just so they could walk without tripping. There was nothing I could do about the shoes; there were not a whole lot of options in sizes available. The clothing had clearly been worn before us.

  It was so good to have some clothing finally, on - I was so, so cold, so this definitely helped. Once we were all dressed, we were then promptly marched into what was going to become our new camp, a massive facility, a prison to lock us in.

  Another officer then showed up - he clasped his hands behind his back, paced back and forth. He had an air of arrogance about him, then he began to speak, “Ladies please listen up! This is a work camp, make no mistake about this, what you will be doing from here on in is aiding the “Third Reich” win the war! Which I ensure you we will be victorious. If you work, then we can all get along. With hard work comes recompense. However, let me warn you all! If you do not pull your weight here and do exactly as you are told, then the punishment for this is hanging! No trial will be held. If you try to escape, you will be shot! Along with ten randomly picked out individuals again there are no trials for this crime. You work then you eat, it’s all as simple as that.

  You will be awakened every morning at 4:30 am; you will be given a half an hour to get ready each morning. Were you will assemble in the courtyard to be counted -You will be fed twice a day; your workday will end work at 7:00 pm. Eat at 7:30, and lights out at 9:30. We work seven days a week here. If you are not meeting your quotas then you will stay and work until you have caught up!

  You will be afforded barrack housing. As you will noticed at all times you will behind all the double barbwire fencings, there are several guard towers located all around this camp, with very well-armed capable trained guards that would love to shoot any of you where you stand,”

  The commander raised his arm. Suddenly a shot rang out from the nearest tower. Hitting a woman right square in the head, she fell backwards to the ground, dead. He shot the poor woman just to make a point, thinking nothing of it.

  “You see there is no escape from here. Pleas observe the spotlights for my men to see you at nighttime, as well as very mean well-trained dogs. You will notice row after row of barracks. These houses all the Jews being held here in this camp, the soldier coming by will assign each of you to a building. The number now placed on your arm is to be used as your name from here on. It will also indicate were you will be working. Once you are given your number, you will be free to go. As a way of saying welcome, you will be given the rest of the day off. I will see you all at 4:30 tomorrow morning.” Soon as the German officer was done talking he met up with his junior officer, they then talked a minute, the senior officer pointed over in my direction. They looked at me I think me a minute then he left - maybe I was just being paranoid.

  I was told we were being housed in building number thirty-three. We were finally released to our own to go to find barrack #33.

  As we were walking I felt lower than low, I wanted to cry and scream out all at the same time, I had so many emotions coursing through me. I have never hated something, or someone, or a group of people as I do now. But I did – the Germans for doing all this to us, we never deserved this.

  I could not stop thinking about my husband, my Poppa, my sister, my mother-in-law, cousin and also her kids, and how exactly was I now suppose to carry on, keep the girls alive in such a brutal place as this.

  The girls and I followed the other many women, no one was really talking, and the women that went through this today well I would say were in shock. As we made our way down to our assigned building.

  Both girls were still whimpering to themselves, for the family they could not be with no longer, they were just too young to comprehend what was really going on in this place. I was not going to tell them the truth about the concentration camp. I think that they would eventually figure it out.

  I just was not sure I could do this, so I silently prayed to our God to give me the strength I was surely going to need to save these girls, as we walked I just hoped The God heard me!

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “The Fight”

  The three of us, all it would seem that is what I believed to be left of my ever-dwindling family. We walked inside the barracks, which proved to be completely wretched, so quiet, but I was determined to make the absolute best of it, in front of the girls. My eyes could not believe what I was seeing. There were row after row of bunks, stacked four bunks stacked high, my God! There was no mattresses, or blankets, or pillows. The place stunk something fierce, a smell of urine, mixed in with sweat, saturated into the wood. I have smelled a lot of horrible things over the last couple of years - this smelt just like the train had. Trust me, once you have smelled this smell, you will never forget it.

  Oddly, there was nothing left behind in any of the bunks, I knew people were staying here, if there was anything which would had personalize the place but there was nothing left behind by all the people staying here. It was very sterile - other than Nazi propaganda hanging on the walls. It looked like maybe a couple of hundred women bunked together here at any one time, it got horribly crowd when the place was full with people. There was only about two feet between the rows of bunks.

  The whole place was emptied-out as we began walking inside - eerie of sort, you could hear the floor squeak as we walked over the wooden planks. About half the women we came to this camp with, walked in right behind the girls and I, none of us had a clue what we were
getting ourselves into. I had to say I was a little relieved knowing we would not be the only ones, I had experienced chills the moment I stepped inside.

  Knowing of the women and I were quite sure whether or not if there was previously assigned bunks for us to sleep or not, there was no way of actually knowing just from glancing around. Therefore, we just temporarily took a couple of the nearby bunks close to the door behind us. All the bunks were stained with all assorted things, I do not care to mention.

  There were a few other kids that came in along with these women - the kids were slightly older than my girls were. But when the girls spotted the other children, their faces actually lit up, not having any other kids to play with for so long, excited them both, for a short while they could put all the worlds troubles away, and just be kids. I was relieved to see this, it got their minds off of their parents - I knew this was only a temporary fix, I just did not had the strength in me to deal with it at the moment, I wanted to just break down. Something this war had robbed from all of us. It had been so long thinking back, since the girls had an opportunity to have played with any other non-family children. So sad, speaking of my daughter, she did not even remember a time without war in her life. Therefore, she had only seen a warped, evil side of the world, yet I had to say about her, she still could see the good in people, even when I cannot, even after all that she had been through.

  My daughter asked, “Mommy can we play with those other kids, oh please Momma, can we?” Her whole face was lit up. She had a great big smile, how could I possible resist that cute look of hers.

  I thought this would be good at temporarily lifting for their little spirits.

  “Sure why not girls, go have some fun would you, oh but girls, both of you, mind yourself.”

  “Yes Momma!

  The other mother and I just let them run wild; kids needed that once in a while. Their childhood was being robbed from them. I think it was very unhealthy. What they had to experience in those last couple of days was just tragic, experiencing things even adults should not have too. What they had seen gives them nightmares almost every single night.

  It gave me an opportunity to let loose just a smidge, lordy I needed it. I had been all backed up with emotions, it proved difficult to hold it all in. I decided to take the first-step. Gazing around at the crop of women all of different ages, young and old, with no real pattern I could detect…why it was we were pick for the work camp, and not the concentration camp. The futility and luck of it all washed over me. All the women looked so overwhelming with everything, having all just had their families ripped apart, the sorrow was written in their many faces.

  I went ahead and introduced myself to the other adult - as my Momma would have if she’d been there - since I was her daughter, then I would do the same.

  I introduced myself to the other women. I began talking with them most of whom were all now detached from their husbands.

  The questions were certainly going around. We were all quite curious by what had just happened to us - to the rest of our families. It was clear, for now, we were separated from them. It was clear it was tearing us all up, having to keep going through this. Was for most of us the worst thing we had had to ever imagine facing? I think it was. This kind of loss, separation could rob us all of a reason to want to go on. None of us I am sure would ever be the same, after going through all this.

  We all sat around, each sharing our depressing, heartbreaking stories with one another, sharing about our husband, and families, - it all seemed too unbelievable to actually be true. Sadly, it was after hearing so much sorrow narrated from the other women in our thrown together group, it became clear that our story wasn’t anywhere near unique – in fact, we were heart breaking normal. These women were made up of nationalities from all across Europe, all trying to do their best to hold it all together, a very difficult task.

  I was torn what to do, debating with myself. On whether or not, it was such a good idea or not to tell these women the truth. On what I had already learned about the concentration camps - I really was not sure on what to do going into all this, what would come of it. If I did tell them the truth, was it right to share such evils. When I know there was going to be a great chance that the people that they love will in all likelihood end up perishing in the concentration camp. Oh, God the thought of that got me sick, I ran out the door and threw up on the side of the building. After I prayed, I searched my soul, and in the end thought it was in fact right thing to do, to let them know the truth of this whole place, one way or the other they were going to find out soon enough, people talk. Anyone of them finding out was just as bad as when I found out. Periodically one or more of us broke down, and began to cry as a whole range of emotions poured out, from deep inside all of us. It was good to be around other women going though the same thing, because we could all understand, and identify with each other’s pain. Together we worked well as a support group. I think we were good for one another. I definitely did not want to be alone right now; I had lost everything I ever loved, other than the girls. Being the only adult right about now would have been a horrible thing. I think the only true reason I was not even losing it more than I was, my emotions had been slowly been worn down since 1939. I was becoming more and more numb on the inside all the time. I think the only thing getting me though this was my faith, the girls, and promises I made to two people I love very much.

  What was I going to do without my family, my husband in my life? If I survived all this, without my family then what next, exactly what kind of life was that going to be anyways. And would we ever get out of here?

  Some hours later, the other women and children that had been staying here began waltzing on in through the doors. Suddenly there were all kinds of noise, and clatter emanating from throughout the barrack. The women that walked in all looked completely exhausted, and dirty, and you could see the hunger, and sorrow written on all their face. We all said hello, introducing ourselves.

  We asked, “Do you all had assigned bunks?”

  One of the older women came forward and then said, “Oh no sweetie, we just sleep were ever is available each night! Here we had learned only to live from day to day, not expecting anything more. Waking up in the morning here is somewhat of a miracle, or depending on how you look at it, it could also be considered a curse, if you do not know what I mean, soon enough you all sadly will.”

  After I would be here a while I would sadly discover exactly why they do not claim a bunk each night. Secret was, it would seems that at least every day, at least one or even several members of this barrack end up passing on under such brutal conditions - quite a high percentage of us were lost here. “For all those we lose there are always more that come along to replace them, such as you ladies, we come from all over Europe, it just never stops.” The older woman said, and slumped into a nearby bed

  The girls and I were each given a metal bowl; the bowls came from someone that had ended up dying here. Everything even the uniforms are recycled over and over again here, absolutely nothing went to waste. About an hour after the rest of the women had showed up, and we all went, outside and proceeded to wait in line for food, turned out our first time to eat in at least a day-in-a-half. I was so hungry. We were being served by, yet other prisoners of the camp, supervised by gun wielding solders.

  I was shocked to discover that there was not much food being served to any of us, nothing more than a boiled potato and a bit of the hot water; it was cooked in, placed in our bowl, nothing more. Hardly enough to come close to quell my rumbling stomach, or my thirst. The girls were having a not easy time because they were both still so hungry after. I told them both to eat their potatoes as slowly as possible, savoring each and every bite, we needed to trick our stomachs into thinking they were fuller than they were.

  When it came time to sleep, the girls wanted to sleep in the same bunk along side of me - I was able to get one bunk next to me, to help. It was the only way I could get either of them to go to sleep, and stop t
hem from crying, it was at bedtime that they ended up, both missed their parents the most of all. My niece kept asking for both her parents, and Abeila cried for her Daddy. There had only been two nights in her entire life that her Poppa had not tucked her in. Both were too young to truly understand what was going on.

  I told them, “Girls if you stop crying, I will tell you both a really good bedtime story! Would you like that?”

  “You will auntie?”

  There were a couple others nearby kids that had been within ear shot of us, of hearing me telling the girls a bedtime story; these wide-eyed kids looked at me with such joy. They too listened in, with excitement, and enjoyment. With such an audience, I created all kinds of voices for the different characters of my story! This became a tradition that ended up happening every night, more kids showed up each night. I guess it made me feel a bit better as well. Seeing how it was bringing pleasure to these kids, I guess I to look forward to this time each night - it was nice having something to look forward to in all this misery, and suffering another lousy day. They sometimes requested the very story I had told from the night before.

  In our camp come to discover that, we were building artillery shells. They liked the Jews performing the most dangerous task, rather than jeopardizing a single German life in such a job, for such mundane things. Just in case, there is any sort of accident. Or, a bombing from American bombers might hit the factory. Of course, they didn’t know about us. A month earlier there was an explosion killing more than two-hundred Jews.