The Lost Boy

by Kate Moira Ryan

  Pasha relayed this question to Frau Simanovski, who nodded and began to speak.

  ✽✽✽

  1942 — Ravensbruck

  At 5 in the morning Elfriede stood frozen during roll call to avoid being beaten by Aunt Emma. Aunt Emma, as the prisoners called her was Emma Zimmer, a sadistic guard prone to random violence. Elfriede, like all the other Jehovah’s Witnesses, wore a lilac triangle. When she first arrived, all she had needed to do to be set free was denounce ‘her God’ and declare her loyalty to the Führer. She refused. Only five of the thousand prisoners had renounced God for Hitler. So she stood there wondering what kind of day it would be. Would she be sent again to the sand pits to shovel sand onto a wagon with a broken shovel while the dogs barked? Her fellow believers whined that they were being singled out because of their beliefs. Elfriede saw the treatment of the Jewish prisoners and she knew this was not true.

  She knew she would not be sent to sew bags for the army. The Jehovah’s Witnesses had banded together and refused to support the war effort in any way. In time the protest had grown so large that, in fact, Sturnbannführer Koegel forced them to stand in ice until their feet became frostbitten. When that did not work, they were locked inside a bunker with no food and no light. Still, they had not broken rank. Koegel had asked Heinrich Himmler for permission to beat them. After three weeks, Himmler visited and said to them, “When are you going to realize that your God has left you. You are under our control now.”

  In response, a woman next to Elfriede said, “We will not do what you want.” That sent Himmler into a rage. He had them beaten. But still, he could not break them. Through it all, Elfriede had kept her mouth shut. She had been defiant, but not resistant. So during the summer, she had been chosen to care for the guards’ young children; something she loved. She and Sepp had not been able to have children, so she would pretend that the babies were her own. When the next protest happened, Elfriede had not joined. She and a small group broke ranks. They would work, they decided. So Elfriede stood there during roll call. All the other women who had resisted had been taken away in trucks during the middle of the night with the Jews, prostitutes, and communists. From a distance, Elfriede saw Heinrich Himmler approach. He pointed at her and the remaining Jehovah’s Witnesses.

  “I am rewarding you,” he said, staring at her shivering body. “You will now be my slaves.” He walked off, his boots crushing the gravel on the ground. Elfriede would be saved by the same monster who tried to break her.

  ✽✽✽

  1950 — Laakirchen

  “Did you first work on Himmler’s estate?” Slim asked.

  Elfriede shook her head no after Pasha asked. “She said she was sent to Alpenland because she had watched the guard’s children over the summer.”

  “What did she find when she got there?”

  Elfriede sighed and said, “Viele kinder, viele kinder.”

  ✽✽✽

  1943 Laakirchen

  The day Elfriede arrived, she thought she had entered a fairytale village. Alpenland, where she was to work, was a yellow three-story castle in the middle of a large park, facing a pond. Outside she saw babies being wheeled in prams by nurses in starched white uniforms. Toddlers lay on blankets soaking up the sun, and older children were playing, ‘ente, enter, gans.’ As far as Elfriede could tell, they were all blonde and, blue-eyed. She was shown around by the director’s wife, Emma Pfaffenberger.

  “The director is my husband, Jakob Pfaffenberger. The children are all orphans from the East,” she said. “The babies were born from married Aryan mothers. We take care of them and place them for adoption.”

  “Frau Pfaffenberger, what will my responsibilities be while I am here?” Elfriede asked, looking at the ground.

  Frau Pfaffenberger looked at Elfriede’s starving body, uncertain there was any work the woman who stood before her would be able to do. “You will be doing some sewing and helping with the children. Are you able to do that?”

  “Yes, I love children, and I know how to mend,” Elfriede answered.

  “Come let’s get you cleaned up and in a uniform and most importantly, fed,” Emma said, patting the frail woman lightly on the arm and making her wince. “Sorry, I…what did they do to you in there?”

  “I’m fine. Please don’t send me back. I’ll do whatever you say. I will be your slave,” Elfriede said, pleading.

  Emma looked at her shocked, “Nonsense, you will be my helper. Follow me.”

  At that moment Elfriede had found her protector. She needed one.

  ✽✽✽

  1950 — Laakirchen

  “When you say you needed a protector, what did you mean? Was there someone there bothering you?” Slim asked.

  Pasha asked, and Elfriede nodded. “Anneliese Jansky.”

  “Why was she fearful of Anneliese Jansky?” Slim asked.

  “She says Fräulein Jansky was the secretary who handled all the paperwork. One day when she was cleaning, she saw a file of birth certificates on her desk. She looked at them. Then Fräulein Jansky came in and caught her.”

  “Why did she get mad?” Slim asked, confused.

  “They were all blank,” Pasha replied. Frau Simanovski lifted up the bottle of Apfelschorle and the plate of sandwiches. She placed both on the side table and then turned over a large piece of cardboard that lined the tray.

  "Hier, schau,” she said, handing it to Slim to examine.

  “What is it?” Slim asked inspecting it.

  “It’s a birth certificate,” Pasha replied, looking at it as well.

  “And she’s using it as a mat on her tea tray?” Slim asked, puzzled.

  “It appears so,” Pasha said, rolling his eyes.

  “Ask Frau Simanovski if she has ever seen this child,” Slim said, holding up the photo of Karol.

  Elfriede took the photo and nodded, “Ja, Karl. Schöner judge.”

  “Karl?” Slim asked.

  “The last time she saw Karl was when the children from the Lidice came to Alpenland,” Pasha said.

  Lidice had been small Czech village. After the Reich Protector, (never was there a more ironic name), Reinhard Heydrich was assassinated, all the men in Lidice were executed in retaliation.

  “Weren’t all the women and children of Lidice sent to concentration camps to be murdered?” Slim asked, wondering what the massacre in Lidice had to do with the Lebensborn home.

  After hearing Pasha’s translation, Elfriede held up three fingers. “Drei kinder Alpenland.”

  ✽✽✽

  1943 — Alpenland

  The children came in the middle of the night. With a nightstick, Anneliese Jansky banged the metal cot where Elfriede slept. Elfriede woke and immediately thought she was being sent back to Ravensbruck. Fear enveloped her as she dressed quickly and ran to the center hall. Elfriede saw two small girls, probably no more than nine, holding onto a six-year-old boy. They were shaking uncontrollably. The children’s clothes were torn and dirty. They gripped each other’s hands tightly. Elfriede tried to talk with them in German and then broken Polish, but the children just stood there, scared.

  Annaliese examined the papers an SS officer handed her. “They are Czech, they are from Lidice,” she said as her anger mounted. “Why are they here?”

  Elfriede interceded before Anneliese’s anger rose to frighten the children.

  “I will take the children and bathe them.” She gently motioned for the children to follow.

  “No one is going to want that scum,” she heard Anneliese say angrily.

  Elfriede stripped the children and put all three in the bathtub. The children looked at her wide-eyed. Slowly she washed them, singing a bible hymn.

  “Wir sind eins im Geiste. Wir sind eins im Herrn. Und wir beten, dass alle Einheit eines Tages wiederhergestellt werden kann. Durch unsere Liebe, Durch unsere Liebe, Ja, sie werden wissen, dass wir durch unsere Liebe Gottes Kinder sind.”

  “What you are doing, Frau Sammy?” a voice behind her said.

/>   Elfriede turned around and saw Karl standing there. “What are you doing up?”

  “I heard singing,” Karl said, coming over. He put his small head on Elfriede’s back. “Who are they?” he asked.

  “They are Czech, from a place called Lidice,” Elfriede answered.

  “Why are they here?” Karl asked.

  “I don’t know, and I can’t ask them because I do not speak Czech.”

  “Maybe they were taken like I was,” Karl said in his hesitant German. When he had first come to Alpenland he sometimes lapsed into Polish, but after Anneliese had him locked in a dark closet, he forced himself to speak German.

  “No, Karl, your mother died, and that’s why you are here in Alpenland,” Elfriede said gently, correcting him. She dried the three children, who stood as straight as wooden soldiers.

  “My mother is not dead. She is alive,” Karl insisted. “And my name is not Karl. It is Karol. It was once an even more different name. Would you like to know?”

  “Hush, Karl,” Elfriede said as she slipped nightgowns over the three children and led them into the children’s dormitory. They were low on beds, so she tucked all three into one. She touched each child on the cheek, then picked up Karl’s small hand to lead him to his bed in the corner of the room.

  As he climbed into his bed, he said, “My name was once Itzhak. My nanny gave me the name Karol after the Germans took my parents. I am Itzhak.” Suddenly his expression became fearful. “I should not have told you that. My nanny said that if anyone knew my real name, they would kill me like they killed my parents.”

  Elfriede looked at Karl, alarmed. Itzhak sounded like a Jewish name. “Karl, I want you to promise me something. I need you to listen. I need you to obey me, do you understand?” Elfriede said, “From now on, you must be only Karl. You can never tell anyone you are Karol or even Itzhak because if you tell the wrong person…” Elfriede could not even finish the sentence.

  “They will kill me,” he said. “Do you think my nanny is looking for me?”

  "I am sure she is,” Elfriede said.

  “Where are those Czech children’s parents?” he asked.

  “I think they are in heaven,” she answered.

  “So they are alone like I am,” Karl said.

  “Yes.” Elfriede bent down to kiss him.

  "Frau Simanovski, what are you doing?” A sharp voice came from the doorway.

  Elfriede turned around to see Anneliese scowling at her.

  “I was just putting Karl back to bed,” she answered.

  “Make sure he gets some sleep. We have special vitors coming tomorrow,” Anneliese said as she was leaving.

  When she was out of earshot, Karl whispered, “Am I getting a new family tomorrow?”

  “Make sure he gets some sleep. We have special vitors coming tomorrow,” Anneliese said as she was leaving.

  Karl had been kept away from special visitors until his German had become more fluent.

  “I do not know Karl, but remember what you promised me. You are only Karl, that’s all you are, you are not anyone else, not even a …”

  They had played this rhyming game so many times and it always ended on the word ‘star.’

  “Frau Sammy will you promise me each night you will look at the sky and find a star and name it Karl, after me?”

  “I promise.” With that, Elfriede said goodnight. The next morning, she woke up to find Karl was gone.

  ✽✽✽

  1950 — Laakirchen

  “Do you know of an SS officer named Ernst Heinze?” Slim asked.

  Instead of becoming fearful like the others they had interviewed, Slim could see the anger rise in Elfriede.

  “She says that yes, she knows who he is. She met him and she despises him. Elfriede thinks he took Karl,” Pasha said.

  “Why does she think that?” Slim asked.

  “She says that Ernst Heinze’s wife was childless— a black mark for an SS officer. To advance in his career, he needed children. The week before Karl disappeared, Frau Heinze was in the nursery. She picked out a baby girl who was maybe nine months old, at most,” Pasha said. “A week later, Frau Heinze came back with the baby and said to me tearfully, ‘My husband wants a boy; he says there is one who is perfect.’ Frau Heinze handed her the baby and a week later Karl was gone.”

  “Ask her if she knows where Ernst Heinze is now,” Slim said.

  Elfriede shook her head no.

  “She says that after Karl left, Ernst Heinze and his wife were transferred. She thinks to one of the camps, but she is not sure. Elfriede is not afraid of Ernst Heinze. She survived Himmler; she was not afraid of a second-rate SS officer, no matter how brutal,” Pasha said.

  “What does Frau Simanovski mean when she says Ernst Heinze was brutal?” Slim asked.

  Elfriede’s eyes turned dark, and she spat out her words as if she was coughing up ash.

  “He beat the children. Frau Simanovski saw this with her own eyes. He had Anneliese Jansky lock them in closets. She thinks he also beat his wife because when the wife came to return the baby girl, Frau Simanovski could see that Frau Heinze's cheek was bruised and her lip swollen. Heinze was not a man who should have been around women and children,” Pasha said, alarmed.

  “We are trying to find records, but we were told by the burgomaster the records are gone,” Slim said.

  “Frau Simanovski said the records are in the basement of Alpenland. After Anneliese Jansky fled town, Frau Pfaffenberger told Frau Simanovski to move all the records from the office to a hiding place in the basement. Then the Pfaffenbergers left with the children.”

  “The burgomaster told us that the Alpenland is closed up and abandoned. Is that true?” Slim asked.

  “Frau Simanovski can get us into the Schloss, but we should do it at night,” Pasha said.

  They arranged to meet at eight at Frau Simanovski’s house.

  Over dinner in Gmunden, Pasha and Slim discussed the case.

  “Pasha, do you think Ernst Heinze being a Golden Party Badge-holder and a member of the SS had something to do with his desire to adopt children?” Slim asked.

  “Members of the SS were encouraged to marry young and to have at least four children each. When that did not happen, Himmler set up these breeding farms at the Lebensborn Homes. It must have been an acute embarrassment when Frau Heinze did not produce even one child for the Reich. That’s why children were stolen from the East and given to childless SS families.”

  Slim pondered this. The Nazis were big believers in eugenics. The Aktion T-4 program was their first attempt to rid the Reich of people they deemed mentally and physically defective. Anyone who did not measure up to the Nazi Aryan Ideal was euthanized or sterilized. It was no wonder Ernst Heinze took his time picking out the perfect son. What would he do, Slim wondered, if he knew that Karl was not a stolen farm boy named Karol, but an illegitimate half-Jewish boy named Itzhak.

  They drove Frau Simanovski up the road to a massive building surrounded by parkland. It was just as she had described it, except the windows were boarded up. Frau Simanovski took a metal key from her pocket and knocked on the door. She handed each of them a flashlight from her wicker basket, and they went in. It was dark inside and pretty much empty except for the random pram and rusty tricycle. They followed her through the large institutional kitchen — stripped down to the cabinet shells— to a door.

  Frau Simanovski took out another key, opened the door and they followed her down the steps. It smelled dank and musty, like most cellars. Slim could make out a wash sink, but that was about it. Frau Simanovski went behind the stairs to the back wall. She traced each stone block with her finger, counting up from the bottom. Then she motioned for Pasha, saidsomething, and pointed at the block. He pulled the block out. It was hollow. Inside was a wooden box with a latch. He laid the block on the floor and pulled out the box. Frau Simanovski snapped open the latch and said, “die namen der kinder.”

  She took out a folder tied with a ribbon and hand
ed it Slim. On the outside, Slim saw the word, ‘Lebensborn vertraulich.’

  Suddenly they heard a door slam and the sound of feet. Pasha switched off the torches. Slim could hear a man shout, ‘Allo, were ist da?’

  Frau Simanovski motioned for the two of them to follow her. She led them through a door into a wine cellar, which contained only smashed, empty bottles.

  They heard the steps above them; now it sounded like more than one person. Suddenly music began to blare on a phonograph.

  “Sounds like they’re just a bunch of kids crashing the Schloss to have a party,” Slim said as she and Pasha followed Frau Simanovski through a maze of tunnels.

  They came out on the other side of the park. In the background, they heard the sounds of young people having fun.

  As they pulled up to Frau Simanovski’s home, she turned to Pasha and whispered something to him. Afterward, Slim asked Pasha what she said.

  Pasha replied, “After you are done with the file, Frau Simanovski wants you to turn it over to whatever agency is still finding the lost children. She believes the children have a right to know their birthright. God would want that.”

  They were tired when they got to their guest house in Gmunden. Pasha looked at her exhausted and kissed her on the cheek.

  “As much as I would like to ravish you, I have to admit I am too exhausted.” He hugged her, then went into the room across the hall.

  Slim was both disappointed and relieved. Nothing would have been better for sleep than a quick roll in the hay and some warm arms to fold into, but being on the road was beginning to wear on them both. No wonder Pasha was tired.

  Slim took the folder Frau Simanovski had given her and opened it. It was dated December 1943 and was addressed to the burgomaster Laakirchen. From what Slim could make out, it was about the children from the East residing in the Lebensborn children’s home. Divided into three columns: name, birthplace and current residence. Slim scanned the names, they were all German, but the birthplaces were all in Poland. The current residence listed the address as Oberweis 34, the address of Lebensborn. Slim scanned the list for Karl Heinze. The name was not on the first page nor the second. The list was alphabetical. Slim kept turning the pages until she found the H’s and there was the name of Karl Heinze. How could she be sure that Karl was Karol? True, Frau Simanovski did seem reasonably confident that Ernst Heinze had adopted the boy. Slim flipped through the typewritten onion skin. Halfway through she noticed that the names became Polish. Slim began to match the birthdates between those with the German names and those with the Polish ones. She found Karol’s name and compared it with the birthdate. They matched. She carefully placed the file back into the envelope and tied it with string. Whatever Slim did, she could not lose this file because it contained the birth and adopted names of over two hundred stolen children, most of whom were too young to remember what their given name had been.