The Child of Auschwitz: Absolutely heartbreaking World War 2 historical fiction

by Lily Graham

  She touched his face, then she kissed his split lips gently. ‘Nowhere in this war is safe, my love, even Terezín. It was worth it to find you, for us to be together again. People die every day just from thirst or disease. What we need is to be with each other, to know we’re alive – that’s how we’ll survive.’

  Due to Sofie’s relationship with Meier, Eva managed to see Michal every few nights, and to get him more food. Sofie organised cheese and salami and potatoes – it was like a small feast, which they shared together.

  Every day, he seemed to get that little bit better. That little bit stronger. They didn’t get much time together, just a half hour here and there every few evenings. But it was enough. A magic time that was just for them. She lived for those half hours. Getting through her long twelve-hour shifts with thoughts of his eyes, his lips. A few moments of pleasure in the bleakest of surroundings that got her through the very long days.

  The first time they made love, on the dirty floor, Eva had to be as gentle as it was possible to be, not to hurt his ribs or his arms and knee.

  She realised that it was possible to be happy, in even the darkest of times.

  After they’d been reunited for two weeks, Eva’s work unit was moved outside to work on building roads. It was a three-kilometre trek there and back. It was tough, back-breaking work, but with the sun filtering through the clouds, and falling on her shoulders, Eva was able for a moment to lose herself in the memory of her husband’s arms. It was a dangerous game, she knew. If any of the other guards caught them, they’d be killed.

  But for now, it was bliss.

  As they worked, she hummed. Someone started to sing a song, and the others joined in, before one of the Kapos told them to keep it down.

  The transports ran day and night, taking people to and from Auschwitz, she barely even noticed them anymore, too tired and too hungry to worry. Until she returned that evening after the Appell, and found Sofie waiting for her in the barracks, a worried look on her pretty face.

  ‘Have they changed your shift?’ asked Eva, surprised to find her here.

  Her friend shook her head. ‘No, I’m still on a night shift – I came here quickly, used an excuse – said I had to fetch Geneva’s medical bag, but I needed to tell you.’

  Eva felt dread fill her insides. ‘Tell me what?’

  Her straight-talking friend fumbled. ‘Oh, Kritzelei—’

  ‘What?’ said Eva, her heart starting to pound.

  ‘Michal has been sent away. Meier arranged it.’

  Eva closed her eyes, feeling faint. ‘Sent where?’

  ‘Some factory – in Freiberg.’

  ‘He said it was for the best,’ said Sofie, not looking her friend in the eye. Not telling her about how she’d shouted at Meier when he’d told her what he’d done, and how he’d knocked her off her feet with a backhand, hissing in her ear, ‘I like being with you, but don’t forget who is in charge.’ He’d shaken his head and sneered. ‘Maybe Hinterschloss was right, he said I was being led by what’s between your thighs. But I’m the man in this relationship, do you understand?’

  She’d nodded, and apologised, hating herself for it. Hating him too. ‘Good,’ he’d said, and hadn’t bent down to help her up. She realised then just how much the other guard had been feeding poison into his ear. Perhaps it was this place too – was it any surprise that whatever humanity he might have had coming in was wearing thin now?

  She looked up at Eva, and touched her arm. ‘He’ll have a chance. They say it’s better in the factories, much better than here.’

  Eva nodded. It was true. Keeping him here was a danger, especially in his condition. She was grateful for that.

  ‘Thank you, Sofie – I can’t imagine it’s been easy, I feel terrible at all you’ve risked—’

  ‘Don’t, Kritzelei, it’s fine,’ protested Sofie. She didn’t want her friend to worry about her.

  It wasn’t fine but Eva dropped it, Sofie clearly didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t know how she would ever be able to pay her back.

  ‘Can I say goodbye?’

  Sofie gazed at her, her face stricken. ‘He’s already gone, I’m sorry.’

  It was safer that way, Eva knew. The further her husband was moved from Hinterschloss, and here, the better his chances of survival. Still, it seemed unbelievably cruel that they had found each other after all this time, only to be ripped apart. Still, they were alive, for now, that’s all that mattered.

  In the morning, though, she knew that she had a new worry, something to distract her from the pain of losing her husband once again. Hinterschloss stared down at her, with his yellow eyes, a cruel smile about his lips. ‘Our translator,’ he said.

  Eva stared.

  ‘Answer me when I speak to you!’

  ‘You didn’t ask me a question.’

  His eyes widened, and he stepped forward. Before she knew anything else, he’d slammed the butt of his rifle against her head, and she went falling backwards into the dirty, churned-up mud. Her ears ringing, her head screamed through the pain. While she was down he knelt beside her and hissed, ‘So you think you can sneak around here at night without me finding out. Your little friend might have got Meier to convince me not to kill you – but I didn’t promise that I’d make your life worth living.’ Then he kicked her hard in the ankle, till she felt something crack. In her pain, anger, and fear, he stood up and addressed her Kapo, Maria. ‘This one is on half-rations from now on.’

  Vanda and the other girls helped Eva up. Maria looked at her and shook her head. ‘Silly girl,’ she snapped. ‘Was it worth all this?’

  Eva shrugged. ‘Yes, probably.’

  Maria snorted and walked on, leaving her standing in her blood, her ankle throbbing in pain. Eva stared after her retreating back. Maria had helped her before through a series of bribes, but with Hinterschloss out for blood, she wouldn’t risk her own neck. Eva had lost an important ally, and it was going to make things even harder.

  Using a dirty scarf as a bandage for her ankle, Eva managed to half hobble away to join the work unit for the three-kilometre walk. It was agony, and it would be even worse with almost no food in her belly. She thought of Michal, of her family, picturing her mother’s soft smile, her father’s kind eyes, Bedrich’s craggy face, and she took a deep breath, as someone prodded her to keep moving; somehow, she did.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Prague, 1940

  ‘You can’t go without me,’ Eva repeated, staring at Michal, her eyes fierce.

  He shook his head, green eyes full of fear and remorse.

  ‘You can’t come with me, Eva. They’re only taking the men—’

  ‘No! They can’t separate us like this, it’s too cruel,’ she gasped.

  He held her close. ‘Listen to me, they need men to build the stupid concentration camp first, turn it from a garrison town into a holding pen for us, that’s what your uncle Bedrich said.’

  Her uncle found out these things, no one knew how.

  ‘Can’t we just get out – out of Prague – escape to the mountains, the countryside, somewhere?’

  ‘I don’t think so, no one will take us – and they have our names. We would need different papers, different identities, it’s too late.’

  Eva’s eyes widened. ‘Amira got them. We can ask her mother.’

  Amira was a friend from school, who had left the city shortly after the first orders began, when people still believed that they were panicking for nothing.

  Her father shook his head.

  ‘She knew that priest – but they’ve taken him away for questioning. They want us gone. Mr Rubenstein is leaving tomorrow too.’

  Eva gasped. He was their oldest neighbour. The one who had shown her on the steps outside their flat how to tie her shoelaces when she was five. It was like the world had gone mad.

  ‘Eva listen to me, the thing is—’ said her father, ‘while I wish they were only sending the men, and you women could be spared this, I think they w
ill be sending every Jew eventually, and for now we know where most people in Prague are going, which is a good thing. So, when the time comes, it will most likely be in Terezín. I’m sure then we will all be together again.’

  ‘How can you be sure?’

  ‘I can’t be. But we just have to keep the faith.’

  Eva nodded. It would be hard though.

  In the morning, they took Michal to the Trade Fair Palace, where he was to be processed before departure. They could only go so far as the gates, Eva was pushed back, crying.

  Two weeks later, the letter came for the rest of them.

  Eva was both horrified and relieved, at least she would see Michal again. She began packing her allowed fifty kilograms of luggage with determination.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The hot sun beat down on their backs as they worked. Eva’s eye was purple and still swollen, a new present from Hinterschloss the week before. Her ankle was broken, and it hurt whenever she stood on it.

  By late summer, Eva went from working on roads to working in fields. With her rations cut shorter she only got her portion of thin, watery soup, with nothing much else in it.

  Starvation would have been certain if not for the kindness of the women in her barrack, and past favours that could now be repaid. Noemi, a friend she’d made when she’d first arrived in Auschwitz, had been moved to kitchen duties, and she gave her extra bread and potato peelings and whatever else she could, including a wedge of cheese.

  ‘I won’t forget that I got this mug because of you,’ she whispered, pressing them into her red, chapped hands at night when she passed her. Eva was so grateful she could cry.

  Sofie had helped to bandage Eva’s foot properly, and had managed to sneak her some painkillers, which were like gold dust here. But as the long, hot summer days marched on, thirst, a constant companion, was another major problem in the camp. When the heavens opened above their heads, many of the inmates would rejoice, cupping the precious liquid in their dirty hands and slurping it down.

  In the distance, there was the rumble of aeroplanes. Air raids had begun. The whispers that the war was turning against the Germans soon followed.

  As Autumn arrived, it brought with it the first snap of cold weather, and frost, and Eva felt ill. What little food she had in her stomach wouldn’t stay down. She crept out of her bunk in the dead of the night, and weakly leaning against the wall outside, vomited what was left of the black bread they’d given them in the evening.

  There was a sound behind her, and Eva started. It was Maria, smoking a cigarette.

  Eva closed her eyes. ‘I think it’s some kind of a bug,’ she said. ‘There’s one going around.’

  Maria nodded, then looked at her appraisingly. ‘I wonder if it’s not something else.’

  Eva frowned, confused. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Morning sickness.’

  Eva blinked. Pregnant? That couldn’t be possible, could it?

  Not on these rations. She hadn’t had a period in months, they’d stopped shortly after she’d arrived in Auschwitz.

  Maria shrugged. ‘It happens – one of my girls here fell pregnant. Geneva – the Blockalteste – took care of it.’

  Eva felt a chill run down her spine. ‘Took care of it?’ she repeated.

  Maria didn’t explain further, she didn’t need to.

  Eva closed her eyes in horror. ‘I’m not pregnant,’ she said.

  ‘You better hope not,’ she said, shaking her head and extinguishing her cigarette on the floor. ‘Now, get back to bed.’

  When she slipped back inside her bunk, she fit her body next to Sofie’s. Her friend’s hair had started to grow back. Dark blonde, with a slight curl. She hadn’t noticed the curl before. She wondered absently as she lay in bed, fighting the nausea, if it was a result of being here that had changed it. Sofie shifted, opening her dark eyes to look at her. ‘You still feeling sick?’ she whispered.

  Eva nodded.

  Sofie patted her arm, then closed her eyes. ‘Try get some sleep.’

  ‘Maria asked if I was pregnant.’

  Sofie’s eyes opened again. She blinked.

  ‘I can’t be, can I?’

  Sofie’s eyes were wide, and full of fear. She swallowed. ‘Whatever they put in the food, and the rations generally stops it – but there have been some cases – not everyone’s body reacts the same way.’

  Her eyes were full of the horror that she had witnessed at the hospital. She didn’t tell her friend about the sorts of things she saw. The things that the doctor, Mengele, did. His experiments – some of which he did on pregnant women. There had been one woman – Geneva said he’d injected something into her cervix. They didn’t know what had happened to her afterwards, she’d got lost in the system somehow. Most of the others had their foetuses removed or were gassed.

  ‘Oh, Kritzelei,’ she whispered, clutching her hand.

  Eva closed her eyes in sudden fear. She’d been hoping that Maria was just scaremongering. Hoped that it wasn’t possible.

  Then something occurred to her. ‘But it was evening when I started feeling sick – so it can’t be.’

  Sofie laughed softly, but there was no humour in it. ‘I’m afraid that the term “morning sickness” is a misnomer, some people feel sick their whole first trimester or longer.’

  Sofie remembered feeling ill for weeks on end, tired too. She’d been scared of what the future had in store – scared to be a single mother despite her tough-talk to her family, but whenever she’d felt Tomas move inside her, it had seemed like he was giving her courage. She wiped away a surreptitious tear now.

  ‘Oh,’ said Eva, feeling her heart start to pound. ‘I didn’t know that.’

  Sofie squeezed her hand. For her friend’s sake, she hoped that it wasn’t true. ‘If you are pregnant, this is going to be impossible.’

  Eva shook her head, felt her stomach. ‘No, if I’m pregnant then it makes all the difference.’

  Sofie looked shocked.

  ‘Because then out of all this something good happened, and I will fight like hell to make sure my child lives.’

  Her friend clutched her hand, she didn’t tell her she was daydreaming, as usual, she didn’t have to.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Prague, 1940

  It took them three days to get to Terezín. Eva had travelled with her family, each with fifty kilograms of luggage. They had waited around in the Trade Fair Palace, where they stayed for two days on dirty mattresses with all their luggage, before the trams arrived. The days were long and interminable, while they waited with their transport numbers, and then they were stripped of most of their valuables. On the third morning before they boarded the train, they listened in shock as a German officer gave them a speech to say that they were now travelling to a promised land, a ghetto where the people there would build for themselves a place free from persecution. They were told that they should be happy and thankful that they were some of the first to be going – they were real pioneers.

  Eva and her parents shared bemused looks as they at last boarded the trains, their luggage at their feet.

  After several stop starts, they travelled to a large camp. When they arrived, there were more shocks in store, as Eva’s father was torn from their grasp, and ushered away.

  ‘No!’ shouted Anka, as Otto was forced to follow the other men.

  ‘I’ll be all right, my loves,’ said Otto. ‘It’s just for now.’

  Eva bit back a sob as she watched him being led away with the men, then her arm was tugged, and she and the other women were being herded towards the women’s sections.

  She held on to her mother, who looked like a balloon with a puncture. ‘We’ll be strong for Papa, and Michal. We’ll see them soon,’ she promised her.

  Her mother stared, wiping her eyes. ‘Where have they taken us?’

  Eva and her mother followed the other women to the women’s quarters, and a gendarme told them to pick beds. Eva sat down with her mothe
r. They didn’t even have their luggage. Around them other women had set up little stations. There were even pots and pans, and washing hanging on the windows.

  Eva was exhausted. It had been a long few days. Together, they climbed onto the bed, arms around each other, and despite their new surroundings, their worries of when they would see their men again, and the whispers of the other women, they were soon asleep.

  She woke up, to her mother roughly shaking her arm. ‘Come quick.’

  ‘What?’

  Her mother put a hand over her mouth. ‘Shh, just come.’

  She followed after to the courtyard where a group of men were going past with trolleys full of luggage, then found herself being whipped around, then lifted off her feet, and hugged fiercely.

  Michal.

  She sank into his strong arms, fighting back a sob. Drinking in his face, his eyes, his hair, which had somehow grown longer and curlier, over his collar. He looked the same, maybe a little thinner. ‘You’re okay?’

  He smiled, showing a dimple. ‘I am now,’ he said, holding her tight.

  She touched his face. ‘But they are treating you okay?’

  ‘Yes, it’s not too bad. I’m employed as a builder, but they have asked me to play them the violin too – they say it calms the other men.’

  She grinned, she liked thinking of him getting to play still. ‘Does it?’

  He shrugged. ‘A little.’ He leant in for a lingering kiss. A guard came past and he let her ago, the gendarme, however, seemed to be very interested in something on the floor. She frowned before she understood, he was pretending to look the other way, and she found herself oddly touched.