As the rain and cold got worse and the climb to the summit slowed down, a patrol discovered three young men, starving and desperate. Three months earlier they had managed to escape from one of the last transports, and they had been hiding in the forests ever since, subsisting on berries, mushrooms, and birds’ eggs. Luckily, one of them had a box of matches, which saved them from the cold.
We were happy to see them and brought them to the base.
Ever since Paul’s disappearance, our base has been wallowing in depression. Our drills are conducted as usual, nighttime studies go on as before, but there’s no passion. Paul’s desperate act eroded our will to live.
The three young men were astounded by our base and couldn’t stop murmuring, “Unbelievable, unbelievable.” Tsila served them bowls of soup.
“We didn’t want to escape and leave our elderly parents at the train station,” one of them revealed. “But they begged us, Run away, children. It wasn’t easy to leave the parents to their fate and escape. We were sure our fate would be no different from theirs, but by a miracle, we survived.”
“What’s your name?” Kamil asked him cautiously.
“My name is Isidor. I’m preparing to study at the university with the humanities faculty,” he added, without being asked.
“We are a fighting unit, small but solid,” said Kamil.
“Will we be allowed to join you?”
“With pleasure.”
Kamil told them about the training and the nighttime raids and ambushes. “You’ll need to sleep for a few nights, and after you’ve rested, we’ll start to train you. We have rifles, hand grenades, and machine guns.”
The young men woke up during the night and stood alongside their tent. Hermann Cohen noticed them and took them to the kitchen. Tsila served them corn porridge and cheese.
After they finished the meal, it seemed they were about to recite the blessings. We were mistaken. They continued to marvel. Isidor finally asked, “Where do you get the food?”
“We raid houses and farms in order to survive, but in truth we are preparing ourselves for the day when we can raid military camps,” Hermann Cohen disclosed.
“We constantly ask ourselves if we were right to leave our parents,” Isidor said mournfully.
“We, too, left parents and grandparents behind,” Hermann Cohen quickly reassured him.
“They won’t blame us when the time comes?”
“Courts will not judge us; we will judge ourselves,” Hermann Cohen said, not in his usual voice.
That same night, Kamil introduced them to Danzig and Milio, and to Maxie and Michael.
“How old is Milio?” one of them inquired.
“He’s two, maybe two and a half.”
“Does he cry at night?”
“No. Asleep or awake, he doesn’t cry. He’s a marvelous child,” Danzig said with obvious pride.
Kamil didn’t take part in the conversation. He asked to hold Milio in his arms, and Danzig handed him over.
“Michael is eight and a half,” Maxie declared. “He can copy from the Bible, he studies arithmetic, and he started geometry.”
“He copies from the Bible?” The young man was puzzled.
“At night we study selected chapters from the Bible, among other things,” Maxie clarified.
The questioner was amazed to find himself in such an uncanny place.
When they were brought before Grandma Tsirl, she looked at them for a long time, as if searching for familiar faces. She of course knew many things about the ancestry of the three. Of one grandfather, Itche Meir, she said, “He was a great Torah scholar, and people would come to ask his advice.”
“I am named for him, but my name is Isidor.”
“With your permission, I will call you Itche Meir. Your grandfather was a kind man who did not condescend to others and spoke to everyone as to a friend. His virtue will protect you and us.”
“Thank you,” Isidor said with embarrassment.
THE NEXT DAY the young men asked to start training, but Kamil felt they must rest, recuperate, and get stronger.
That night two squads went out to raid houses at the foot of the mountains. Before they left, Kamil talked about the three newcomers. The prediction Kamil had been making for weeks, that many people would arrive and alter our situation, was slowly coming to pass.