Chapter 25

25

The Wehrmacht soldier waved the Red Cross truck past the check point and Jana caught her first glimpse of Terezin. Lenka had explained in her last letter some of the set up there:

The compound is made up of the small fortress which is the prison, surrounded by a moat, and the large fortress where I live, which is laid out like a small town. I've been moved from a maternity area and now live in a three-storey barrack named Dresden, which I share with other mothers and their children. There are a lot of us here, so no chance to get lonely. We take it in turns to look after each other's children when one of us has work duty, and have designed a rota. I've been assigned to the laundry which is hard work, but I'm rewarded with a meal at the end of the day.

The men live in Sudeten Barracks and are assigned the heavy physical work such as building a railway. There is a silly rumour going around that a group has been tasked with building a swimming pool for the SS families, using just spoons to dig out the earth. Ha! As if …

I'm one of the few here not wearing a yellow star and was worried at first that I'd be treated by the other woman as an outsider, but the contrary is true. I have encountered only kindness and companionship.

I feel sorry for the elderly and sick amongst us who are unable to work. Their rations of food are smaller, but they don't complain as the Germans have explained they need more food for our children. It is war time after all and we all have to make sacrifices.

There is a cellar in Dresden Barracks and we are allowed to use one of the rooms for community meetings. These are the best times of the day. We have many musicians amongst us and we have started a small choir. We also hold literary evenings, not only to discuss published works, but also to read aloud our own poetry and stories. Some of the readings are rather sad, but life is like that sometimes, isn't it?

The last few weeks it got a bit crowded here, but some of the women have left to be rehoused in a fine new development (we don't know where). Trains have begun to leave regularly to take men, women and children to their new home. I wonder if I will be sent too. With my precious little one, of course.

Jana was finally within the Terezin compound. She sat on the front seat of the Red Cross truck, between Miss Novak who was driving and Dasha who had also been allowed to assist with the delivery of the donations. Miss Novak had given both girls Red Cross caps to wear with their white, short-sleeved dresses.

The soldier had given Miss Novak instructions to follow the police cyclist to the Magdeburg Barracks, the building that housed the Jewish Council of Elders. This was where they were to deposit their donations and were told to return to the check point within half an hour.

They drove down a street lined with three-storey barrack-style buildings, the fa?ades faded and peeling, the curtainless windows all flung open to catch the spring air. The housing very much fitted Lenka's description, but what surprised Jana were the lack of crowds; there were only a few pedestrians along the pavements, and although their clothes were shabby, and their faces thin, they looked not so different to the citizens who walked the streets of Prague.

The truck passed a grocery shop and a bakery, both displaying wares, although Jana noticed that none of the citizens were carrying bread or shopping bags. A group of smiling children waved as they passed; the girls with neatly plaited hair wore faded but pretty dresses. She was surprised when she saw a building with a sign: Post Office . The words on the wooden placard glistened as if freshly painted.

The police cyclist pulled up outside a small, stone building and Miss Novak parked the truck outside. They all climbed out and waited on the front doorstep as the policeman thumped on the door, shouting, ‘Delivery!'

A man with a black beard and wire spectacles opened up and greeted the women with a bow of the head. ‘Welcome. My name is Samuel.'

Samuel called behind him and two teenage boys appeared.

‘My sons will help carry the things inside.'

Watched by the policeman, Jana, Miss Novak and Dasha were aided by the boys to unload the boxes from the truck. Samuel ushered them inside, directing the clothes cartons upstairs and the book cartons to a room on the ground floor. Miss Novak and Dasha went upstairs with the boys and Jana stayed with Samuel .

‘I hope these will be of use,' she said as she opened a carton and pulled out a couple of books to show him.

Samuel smiled but his eyes were moist with tears. ‘You don't know how much these books will mean to us. I'm very grateful?—'

‘How long will this take?' The policeman poked his head round the door. ‘My cigarette break is overdue already.'

‘I need to make a quick check that no banned books have inadvertently found their way in here,' said Samuel. ‘Give me twenty minutes. Why not take your break and we'll be finished here by the time you're back?'

The policeman eyed Samuel, huffed and marched out.

Jana lowered her voice. ‘Samuel, can you help me? I'm trying to find a friend of mine, Lenka. She's in the Dresden Barracks. Is that far from here? I'm desperate to see her.' The words tumbled out.

His eyes widened. ‘They won't allow you in there.'

Jana gulped. ‘I could sneak out now. I have twenty minutes. Please help me.'

Samuel shook his head.

‘Please.' She grabbed his thin arm. ‘I don't want to get you into trouble. If anyone asks for me, say I was unwell and went to the lavatory.'

‘We do have one at the back of the building,' he said, slowly. ‘The window opens onto the street?—'

‘Show me.' Jana's adrenaline was pumping now; she couldn't waste this opportunity. Who knew when she would be this close to Lenka again?

Samuel set his jaw, his expression resolute. ‘Come,' he said. ‘It would be good if an outsider saw this place. Many of us paid to come here.'

‘Paid?' said Jana, bewildered .

‘Many artists, from all over the country, were led to believe this was some kind of cultural haven. I'm a pianist… But enough of that, there isn't time.'

Samuel led Jana to the lavatory at the back of the house. As she clambered onto the toilet seat and pulled open the window, Samuel gave her hurried directions to Dresden Barracks. ‘Be back in twenty minutes,' he urged.

‘I will,' she said, checking her watch.

‘You'll stand out in that,' He pointed at the white cap with the Red Cross insignia.

She whipped it off, stuffed it into her dress pocket and jumped into the street.

She was instantly enveloped in a scene very different to the one that had met her on arrival in Terezin. This street was packed with people – sitting on the kerb, pulling carts, shoving along children whose clothes were no more than rags. Tired, gaunt faces glanced at her pristine white dress and clean, neatly rolled hair as she pushed her way through the masses.

Hurrying across a junction, she glanced down a side street. There was a barrier at the end and an armed soldier was turning people away. She jolted with realisation. The side street led into the road they had used to enter Terezin. It had been cordoned off, keeping citizens out of the peaceful model street with its shops and post office, all staged to give visitors a positive impression. But she was now behind the stage, witnessing the reality. This place was not the fine town being touted by the Nazis. It was a concentration camp.

She lost her bearings and stopped to ask directions before she arrived at a long, low, stone building. In the courtyard in front, women were sitting on the ground; there were no benches. They were watching a group of toddlers playing, screaming or crying .

Jana approached an older woman with frizzy, grey hair who looked up her curiously.

‘You certainly look new here,' the woman said.

‘Please can you help me? I'm looking for my friend, Lenka. I don't have much time. She's just had a baby.'

The woman gave a sardonic laugh. ‘Do you know how many there are of us here? Who are you anyway?'

‘I know a Lenka,' came a thin voice. ‘The storyteller.'

Jana looked at the young woman bouncing a baby on her knees.

‘She's inside looking after a sick child.'

Aware of time ticking, Jana rushed through the barrack's open door and came to an abrupt halt. Entering from the bright sunshine into the darkness, she was blinded, black zig-zag lines dancing before her eyes. A fetid smell assaulted her, and her brain tried to identify the mixed odours: stale air, sweat, urine, vomit and strangely, disinfectant that made her eyes sting. Her vision came into focus, and she saw a young woman on her knees, scrubbing ferociously at the wooden floor. Strands of hair had come loose from her bun and hung damp across her shrunken cheeks.

The woman looked up at Jana and in an apologetic voice, muttered, ‘He's been sick again. I'm sorry. I'll clean it up quickly. Sorry.'

She continued to scrub. Beside her on a bottom bunk bed, a scarlet-cheeked baby screamed.

Jana took in the scene around her, her throat closing. Rows of narrow bunk beds stretched to the ceiling. Items of clothing, both adults' and children's, and stained, threadbare towels lay strewn on each bed. Seeing the several make-shift pillows of rolled up clothes, Jana realised that people were sharing beds with more than one person .

Jana kneeled down to the woman and put a hand on her bony arm. The woman flinched at the touch and her eyelids flickered wildly.

‘Don't be afraid,' said Jana, her voice hoarse with emotion. ‘I'm just looking for my friend, Lenka.'

But the woman looked at her blankly and continued scrubbing and apologising. Jana's heart wrenched as she realised there was nothing she could do for the woman. And the clock was ticking. She hurried on down the narrow aisle that ran alongside the rows of beds, mostly empty. The women were most likely at work, and some of the children, the younger ones were outside. But where were the older children? Working too?

‘Lenka,' she called, in a raised whisper.

A woman stirred on one of the bunks. A baby whimpered.

Jana called louder. ‘Lenka! It's me, Jana. Are you here?'

‘Jana? Is that you?'

Her heart stopped. She peered to her left and in the shadows, she saw a figure seated on a bottom bunk, cradling something.

‘Lenka,' she cried, and squeezed herself between the beds to reach her friend. Lenka rose, a swaddled baby in her arms, staring at her, her mouth open in disbelief. Jana choked back a gasp. The last time she'd seen Lenka, she'd been pregnant and rosy cheeked; now she hardly recognised the sunken-faced woman with sallow skin, her limp hair tucked behind her ears.

Jana leaned across the baby and wrapped her arms around Lenka's shoulders.

‘How? Why…' Lenka stammered.

Jana quickly explained about the Red Cross delivery and that she'd sneaked away to find her. She looked down at the fretful baby in Lenka's arms.

‘Is that Alena? '

Lenka shook her head. ‘It's a friend's baby. He's sick and I'm taking care of him till my shift at the laundry starts. That's Alena.' She nodded to the sleeping child on the bed. Alena lay on her back, her little head tilted towards them, her arms flung out, tiny fists on each side of her head. She wore a nappy and short-sleeved top. Jana noted the lack of baby rolls on her arms and legs. She ran a gentle finger along Alena's cheek. The feel of the baby's skin sent a quiver of love and longing through her.

‘She's beautiful,' she whispered.

‘She needs more milk.' Lenka sighed. ‘Mine dried up after only a week. We get milk powder, but it's rationed. Some of the women here give favours to the policemen for extra rations. I haven't done that yet, but…'

Jana's eyes welled up. ‘What can I do for you? There must be something.'

‘Just seeing you is more than something. And I can't wait to look at the books you've brought. I've started a sort of book club here.'

The baby in her arms had stilled and Lenka placed him next to Alena on the bed. She took Jana's hands and fixed her with intense eyes.

‘Please, make me a promise.'

‘Anything.'

‘If anything happens to me, please try and get her back to Ivan. And watch over her. Please.'

‘Nothing will happen to you.' Jana fought to control the panic in her voice. ‘Stay strong. You must stay strong.'

‘I will. But just in case. Listen, I'm lucky to be here. I was destined to be imprisoned in the Small Fortress.' She shuddered. ‘The Gestapo are doing terrible things to the inmates. We hear the screams. And rifle shots.'

Jana thought of Andrej's intervention, which had helped Lenka to be moved out of the Small Fortress, and she swallowed hard.

‘Alena is here because of my crime,' Lenka continued. ‘But she's not Jewish like most of the people here; their future looks bleak. But if I died?—'

‘No!' gasped Jana.

‘Listen. If I died, what reason would there be to keep her here? You and Ivan could persuade the authorities to release her. She would not have a mother, but she would have you, her godmother.'

Jana bit her lip and nodded solemnly.

Heartbeats passed as they held each other's hands, their faces wet with tears Jana's gaze fell on her watch and she jolted. Twenty minutes was up and she still had to get back to Samuel at the Magdeburg barracks. Even if she ran, it would take five minutes.

The wrench as she left Lenka behind was a physical pain in her chest. She fled from the woman's barracks, gulping the fresh air and swiping tears from her face.

Running past the women and children in the courtyard outside, she raced back in the direction she came. People looked at her, and when she saw two policemen up ahead, she was forced to slow her pace. She mingled with a group of women, and dropped to one knee to adjust the strap on her shoe, avoiding the glance of the police passing by. Then she bolted onwards.

Heart thudding and sweat pouring down the back of her neck, she came to the open window of the lavatory, and tried to clamber up inside. But here she had no toilet to stand on.

As she struggled, a young man, handsome with wavy, dark hair sidled up to her.

‘I have no idea who you are or what you are doing, but you look as if you need help.' He stretched out his arms and cupped his hands, his fingers tightly linked. ‘Here, let me give you a leg up.'

Breathing hard, she pressed one foot into his hands and he heaved her up to the windowsill. She scrambled across and dropped down on the other side but when she turned to thank the man, he was gone.

She heard voices in the hall outside the closed lavatory door: Samuel's conciliatory tones, the policeman's gruff ones. She turned on the tap and let water run into the discoloured, cracked sink.

Thump. Thump. Thump. The door shook.

‘Are you in there? Show yourself immediately!' bellowed the policeman.

She slipped her hands under the brown water and turned off the tap. There was no towel, so she shook her hands and opened the door. Wiping a damp hand across her forehead, and slumping her shoulders, she spoke in a weary voice.

‘I don't know what's come over me. I feel quite poorly.'

The policeman eyed her up and down, whilst Samuel stood behind him and gave Jana a wink over his shoulder.

‘Then you'd better get yourself back to the truck. You're overdue anyway,' he barked.

Miss Novak and Dasha stood outside with concerned expressions.

‘Are you all right, dear?' asked Miss Novak. ‘Samuel told us you were quite unwell.'

Jana assured her she was feeling better and the three of them climbed aboard the truck.

As they drove off, Samuel stood on the doorstep watching. Jana gave him a wave and hoped her small smile signalled her gratitude for his help. His reciprocal nod told her he did.

That evening, over a bowl of turnip soup, Jana told her father about her visit to Terezin.

‘You saw Lenka?' Papa stopped eating, his spoon halfway between his bowl and his mouth. He put the spoon back in the bowl. ‘My, goodness. How did you manage that?'

Papa looked horrified as she relayed the story. She had thought twice about telling him about her antics, but her need to share her experience in the camp was overwhelming. She and Papa were already involved in anti-Nazi activities together anyway.

When Papa had recovered from the shock, he asked, ‘How was she?'

‘She looked so different. She was…' Jana put down her spoon, her appetite gone, and told him about the few precious moments she had spent with her friend and her promise to look after Alena if anything happened to her.

‘Papa, have you heard anything about the transport of Jews and other so-called enemies of the Reich?'

‘You mean transport to new housing areas? Yes, I have.'

‘No. I mean transport out of Terezin. Thousands at a time. The place is so crowded and filling up all the time. The Nazis are sending people on somewhere else.'

‘How do you know all this?' He frowned, watching her closely.

‘I overheard something at the castle.' She shrugged with one shoulder to make light of how she had gleaned the news.

Papa heaved a sigh. ‘Oh, Jana, I'm not totally na?ve. I've suspected for some time you're doing more than cleaning at the castle.'

Jana waited for the admonishments and the warnings, but was surprised when her father's eyes softened and filled with tears.

‘I'm so proud of you, darling. And your mother would be too, if she was still with us. You have a big, courageous heart, just like she did. I'm proud and terrified at the same time.'

Jana's fingers fluttered to her mother's locket and slid it gently from side to side along its chain; a habit that gave her comfort and connection to her mother. Papa's words made her heart swell. His approval and love for her gave her strength; how she loved him.

Both of them were choked with tears.

‘If one of us goes down, we all go down. The whole family, and the children,' Papa murmured, his voice hoarse.

‘I know,' she said. Then she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. ‘But we won't. We mustn't let fear stop us from fighting back, Papa. If we stay passive, then we give up on hope.'