Men of Snow

by John R Burns

  ‘But does he teach you anything?’

  ‘He tells us that imagination comes from dreams and memories and that we cannot imagine anything that isn’t based on something that already exists.’

  ‘Sounds like a load of mysticism to me. Did you hear this Jonathon?’ David would try but father would remain hidden behind his paper.

  ‘Imagination is a mysterious gift. Teacher Levin knows that none of us have ever seen a mountain, but we can all imagine what one looks like. The most creative people he says are those who can use their imagination the best.’

  ‘And is that what you want to do?’

  ‘Yes. I want to be able to draw things from my imagination, but first I have to learn to draw from what I see around me. It’s only then, when I’m good enough, that I can start being really creative.’

  ‘Listen to the boy. Sounds cleverer than us two put together Jonathon.’

  This finally stirred father to say, ‘I would have thought that was obvious.’

  If it was the summer Leon would sit out with his uncle on the veranda while he smoked his cigar, something he was not allowed to do inside the house.

  ‘Those who succeed, like myself, have to be bloody minded and that’s not swearing my boy,’ David started one evening, ‘That’s just an expression which means you have to go at things as hard as you can. It’s a battle. You already have an advantage because you’re a Jew. We’re the smartest race of people, smart enough to leave the Poles standing because they’re not bothered. They have no real drive to get on. Just think about it. Who in Volnus owns the banks, the most successful tavern, the hardware shops, the clothes’ shops, the printers, the tanners, my carpentry business, the bookshop, the jewellers, and I could go on. This is a successful town because half its population is Jewish. My boy you have to realise how fortunate you were the day you were born into the blessed race. Whatever anybody says you were lucky that day. In the future you’ll have so many choices you won’t know where to start.’

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  In the night the rain started again, a soft sound against the higher branches. Leon tried to sleep. His stomach felt tight and soured. The weakness in his limbs began to ache. He forced himself to concentrate on his body’s pain, attempting to avoid any thoughts, any memories. Nothing was left in him. He was too hungry and weak to cry.

  The forest pressed close. He could smell the Poles, could hear the three guards watching the rest of the group stepping carefully and then stopping, as though they were listening as intently as he was.

  He knew when he slept he would dream, would be unable to avoid his mind’s tricks, the clever tortures, memories becoming quick plots of nightmares that woke him sweating and struggling to recognise his surroundings.

  Mist and light merged together in the early morning. The bark of the tree was ridged against the back of his head. The hunger was thudding through him as he watched the Poles begin to wake, wondering if they were going to have anything to eat, trying to prepare himself for the smells that would emerge if they did.

  But this morning was immediately different. They started packing their things together, all of them silently clearing up the camp. The women were bundling clothes into their sacks and the men were collecting up the digging equipment as the children were removing all the pine branches off the shelters and taking them back into the forest.

  Leon sat and watched. The mist started to clear. Pigeons flapped from tree to tree. There was the drone of more planes The Poles were working quickly, filling in the holes they had dug and clearing the ground.

  ‘I have to tell you,’ came the boy’s sudden voice from behind him.

  ‘Tell me,’ Leon muttered.

  ‘We’re leaving because two of the men went off yesterday to see what they could and they haven’t come back. They were supposed to be back yesterday afternoon. Big Paul and some of the others made the decision first thing. So we’re going,’ was Kas talking breathlessly. ‘One of the women is refusing to budge. One of the men was the husband of this woman and she’s all upset and says she’s not leaving. My mother is trying to talk her round. I think the woman kind of respects my mother so that’s why she’s trying to get her to come with us. Well I suppose we can’t really leave her behind. That’s what big Paul says. I heard some of the men talking. They never notice me half the time because I’m so small for my age. Well some people think so. I don’t. But sometimes it helps. I just thought you ought to know.’

  Just as suddenly he was gone as two of the men came over.

  Leon stared at the ground, waiting.

  ‘You’re coming with us,’ one of them said.

  ‘We’re moving so you’re coming with us,’ the other repeated.

  ‘Are you listening, are you fucking listening?’ came the first.

  ‘Yes,’ Leon managed.

  ‘Well get a move on.’

  As they started out Leon noticed one of the women being supported by two more on either side holding her by the arms. Kas would sometimes look back at him as in line the group trudged through the forest.

  They moved by day and late into the night until some of them could walk no further. By the third day Leon was putting one leg in front of the other automatically and the group was forced to make more and more stops to rest. Nobody spoke. The forest seemed endless. Some days it rained, a soft, still warm rain. They moved through ferns as high as they were. In the darkness they shared out what was left of the food, Kas managing to hide something for Leon whenever he could.

  ‘I hate this,’ the boy said one night after he had crept away from the others to speak to Leon.

  ‘Where...where are they going?’ was all Leon wanted to know.

  ‘Don’t ask me. No idea. It all looks the same to me. But some of the men know the forest. They’ve hunted here. I heard my father telling my mother. I suppose we’re going as deep into it as we can. If we’re not careful we’ll be coming out the other side.’

  ‘Tell me about your father and mother,’ Leon tried in a weary voice as he chewed on a piece of raw turnip the boy had brought him.

  Kas pulled a doubtful expression and crouched down as he usually did, rocking back and forth when he spoke.

  ‘They hate Jews,’ was his start.

  ‘Why...why do you have to start with that?’

  ‘Because it’s true.’

  ‘But why that first?’

  ‘That’s why they don’t like it that you’re here. They don’t want me to talk to you or go anywhere near you. But both of them are too knackered. My mother cries every night and my father just argues with her. I keep well out of it. But it’s because of my brother.’

  ‘You have a brother?’

  Kas wiped his mouth with the long sleeve of his too big jacket.

  ‘I have....I have a sister. She’s called Hella,’ Leon mentioned.

  ‘My brother was called Drush. That’s what everybody called him.’

  ‘How old is he?’

  ‘It’s because the Krauts were looking for you lot, for Jews. They came into our street and started banging and kicking in the doors, shouting their heads off.’

  Leon could see the officer again, as he had so often over the past days, see the tanned features and the red scars and the way he had stood and how he had controlled everything that had happened in the square. The feeling was beyond anger. It had already settled into a determination. Now at the end of every thought was this sense of what he had to do if he managed to survive.

  ‘I have to go,’ Kas suddenly said, stretching up.

  ‘You don’t have to,’ Leon tried.

  ‘I’ll try and get something for you tomorrow. Like I said I think this might be where we set up camp. There’s a stream just over there and there’s a bit more space between the trees, God, anything not to have to walk any further. I’m sick trudging around, not knowing where we’re supposed to be going.’

  CHAPTER 9

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  The hunger was always there. Even when the group had stopped to start a new camp and Leon sat a distance watching them, the ache was deepening, his body so much weaker, the fantasies of food beginning to speed together.

  Again the Poles began digging. In this place the earth was darker, heavier. Their holes were further apart, in between the high fir trees, some near the edge of a small stream that run through an area of ferns. Again they worked all day and into the evening.

  Leon knew there were only a few weeks before the short autumn set in that would be followed by the winter months, a winter that could last into April, more than half a year of it. They were digging to survive.

  The man they called big Paul was over six feet and had a bushy beard and long reddish hair. His shot gun was always strapped to his back. Every action of digging was followed by a low grunt which Leon could hear from where he was sitting. It seemed to be him who each evening was the first to set down his small shovel as a sign that work was over for the day. Then they would gather together. Leon had managed to count thirty five of them including the children. Only a few he recognised from the town.

  It was late on the second night after they had stopped that Kas managed to bring him some food.

  ‘Just some berries,’ he said, ‘that’s all there is.’

  Leon ate them down in one mouthful.

  Then Kas handed him a mug of water which he gulped down as quickly as he could.

  ‘I told you this was where we’re stopping.’

  The night’s wind was blowing hard, the trees shifting in the darkness. Leon could feel the fir he was leaning against moving slightly like a small shudder.

  He could hardly focus on the boy. Everything was at a distance. He could make no effort and yet wanted Kas to speak to him.

  ‘I’ve....I’ve only one....one sister,’ he managed.

  Kas said doubtfully, ‘I know. You’ve told me.’

  ‘She’s called Hella.’

  ‘And you’ve told me that as well.’

  ‘I’m...I’m sorry.’

  ‘No need.

  ‘Did you see Brucker?’

  Kas came closer, this time sitting cross legged, ‘Whose that?’

  ‘The German.’

  ‘I saw some of some them, too many. I saw them alright.’

  ‘He was....was called Brucker, the German officer. One of the men told me. He....he told...told me he was called Brucker.’

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘He was called Brucker.’

  ‘So you’ve said.’

  ‘I’m...I’m sorry,’ Leon repeated, ‘But he did this, did to Volnus, the people. He did it, this Brucker.’

  ‘Stop saying that,’ Kas complained.

  ‘But it matters. Now it matters more than anything. Don’t you see? I can’t get him out of mind. I....I keep seeing what he did. I was there, watching what was going on in the square. I saw everything and he was just standing there telling everybody what to do. He was in charge. It was his....his butchery. I can’t stop seeing him. I’ll never stop seeing him, never.’

  ‘They killed my brother. The fucking Germans shot him.’

  Leon stopped then, trying to focus on what had just been said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘My brother.’

  ‘What....what was his name?’

  ‘I’ve already told you.’

  Leon waited, wanting desperately for the boy to continue.

  ‘So why haven’t you got those funny curls down the side of your head like you’re supposed to have? I thought’s what all the Yids had, funny black clothes and hats and them stupid curls. I’ve been in one of your church places, whatever they call them, for a dare. I followed the janitor in, me and my mate. Spooky it was. Smelt funny.’

  ‘Yes.’ Leon agreed.

  ‘Stupid,’ Kas repeated.

  The sound of his mother looking for him came along the wind.

  ‘Don’t go,’ was Leon’s attempt.

  Kas waited, listening to his mother’s low voice asking for him.

  Then he got up and disappeared for a few moments before returning.

  ‘He was called Drush. I told you,’ he continued, crouching down.

  ‘I remember.’

  ‘No you don’t.’

  ‘Tell...me...tell me what happened.’

  ‘They shot him. One shot, in the back. They came looking for Jews, shouting and banging in the doors. They were round the back so Drush and me had nowhere to go. There were no Jews in our street so I don’t know what they were doing. They barged in. Me and Drush were in the kitchen and it was him who said we’d better go out. I told him we should go out the back but he said then the Krauts would think we were trying to escape. Then two of them were there with their rifles poking at us. So we had to put our hands on our heads and then we went out into the street. There were lots of other people standing outside their house with Krauts everywhere. My mother and father had been over at my granny’s when it happened. They went to get her when the shelling started. We were just stood there and then suddenly Drush just takes off. He was always fast, really fast at running. One of the Krauts shouted something and one of the neighbours tried to stop him. And then Drush did stop. I don’t know why. He just stopped in the middle of the street for a few seconds and then took off again. So the Kraut lifted his rifle up onto his shoulder and I hadn’t noticed. I’d been shouting at Drush and trying to decide whether I should go after him and there was this German standing nearby and he just fired at him. One shot. Drush went flying forwards. He smashed his face when he fell. I wanted to hit the fucking Kraut but I wanted to see how Drush was as well. So I just run up the street to where he was. Some of the other people in the street tried to hold me back but I wanted to be with my brother. I just wanted to be with him. But he was dead. Not a thing.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Leon said.

  ‘So that’s why my mother and father hate the Jews. It’s because the Krauts were looking for them that Drush got killed. That’s what they think.’

  ‘And do you?’

  ‘Well seeing as you ain’t a proper Jew I don’t know what difference it makes.’

  Leon looked up at the branches wafting about in the wind, seeing clouds moving fast across a half moon. They were shifting as fast as Kas spoke.

  ‘I don’t know why he did it. He never said anything. He just set off. I don’t know why he didn’t say something to me, didn’t tell me what he was going to do.’

  Leon had to ask,’ So why are...are you.... helping me?’

  Kas interrupted straightaway and said, ‘I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘It does to me. I’d be...dead by now if it wasn’t for you. The Poles would have killed me.’

  ‘Well I couldn’t stop them. That’s nothing to do with me. All I know is that is a gun shot in the forest can be heard for miles.’

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  ‘You’ve made me look a fool,’ he said to Benjamin, ‘I wasn’t going to tell you but I’ve decided I will.’

  They were crossing the bridge across the swollen river that ran by the side of Volnus. There were horse and carts coming in from the fields stacked high with hay for the winter. The postman on his bike was weaving in and out between them, ringing his bell and laughing as he passed.

  ‘So what have you done?’ Benjamin wanted to know.

  Leon’s best friend was tall for his age with pale features and thick black hair. Leon always had to walk quicker to keep up with his long strides.

  ‘I got Lola into our den hut.’

  ‘Lola Pilski?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But she’s crazy.’

  ‘Crazy enough to let me see her thing.’

  Benjamin’s mouth dropped open as he suddenly stopped, ‘What?’

  ‘I had to know. What you said about that woman you saw, I wanted to find out if it was true. So for we
eks I’ve been encouraging Lola along. She thinks I’m completely gone on her. So yesterday she finally agreed to come with me to the hut and....and she pulled down her pants and let me have a look.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Hell Benjamin, she’s only nine years old. There was nothing there.’

  ‘What do you mean nothing there?’

  ‘No hair. She had no hair.’

  ‘Well hell I could have told you that you fool. I can’t believe that you were so stupid.’

  ‘Well I was,’ Leon admitted, smiling then.

  Benjamin threw his arm round him and pulled him so tight he could hardly breathe, ‘What an ignorant Jew boy you are.’

  ‘And it’s your fault.’

  Benjamin let him go and started laughing, leaning against the side of the bridge, bent over with the pain of so much laughter. Then he stretched up, came over and kissed Leon on both cheeks.

  ‘Welcome to the world of girls my friend. They’re going to drive you mad. But Lola Pilski! I can’t believe it.’

  ‘Well it’s true.’

  ‘And what did you do for her in return?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Oh come on. There had to be a deal. Don’t tell me you showed her your perfectly circumcised tiddler.’

  ‘It’s not a tiddler.’

  ‘Of course it is.’

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  To most people of Volnus the tavern was known as the Jew’s place. To Leon’s mother and father it was an embarrassment. The tavern at some point had been painted yellow but now the low, long building’s colour was faded and streaked with black lines of weathering. Its four small windows were so filthy it was impossible to see through them.

  ‘And what woman in her right mind would want to step inside an establishment like that?’ his mother had asked, ‘Nobody I know. It’s a den of layabouts who just drink and gossip all day. Us women have better things to be going on with. The place is a sin, a blight on the town. If it has to exist it should have been dumped in the middle of the forest so town folks don’t have to smell it or hear it.’