Ever since the Ukrainian tracker reported that the Germans were planning to attack us, we’ve stepped up our missions and preparations. The only rest period during our day is the radio hour. The German Army is retreating on all fronts, the newscaster unequivocally declares.
I have nothing but admiration for the comrades who care for the survivors: They are not reluctant or squeamish. They wash and rinse the emaciated bodies, the wounds oozing pus, all the while singing songs of the Bund and youth movements. Miriam and two fighters do the laundry. I am in charge of the fire and the pots of boiling water.
The snow that had fallen continuously for many days suddenly stopped. The wetlands are now the land of ice. The temperature is ten below zero. The heavy clothes of the gendarmes protect us, and Hermann Cohen added two more stoves to the tents. Unfortunately, we lack enough dry firewood. The wet wood is smoky.
My friend Emil is feeling better. He’s very thin and can barely stand, but the light is returning to his eyes. He loves Tsila’s soup and savors it slowly. He also gets a piece of fish and two potatoes every day.
During our last raid, we found a pantry full of oil, salt, sugar, and many spices. The sight of the little jars made us especially happy because it reminded us of kitchen cupboards back home.
Tsila has promised that from now on the meals will be tastier. Everyone praises her cooking and calls her the “magician.” She is an inspiration to us all. Every day she surprises us with a new dish or a familiar one with a new taste.
Kamil is focused on anticipating the enemy’s next moves and on preparing two expanded squads to blow up the railroad tracks. We must stop the trains carrying the Jews to their death. Kamil impresses this urgency upon us every minute of the day, and we are eager to follow his orders.
Hermann Cohen informs us that there are no more tents and no more metal to make into stoves. The bunkers are full to capacity. This argument does not deter Kamil. According to information we have gathered, a death train will pass by in two days, and we will do our duty and derail it.
At one time there were quite a few who opposed this action. Now it’s clear to everyone that these are indeed death trains. Whoever does not suffocate in the trains will die in the camps.
AGAIN I SEE PAPA and Mama standing before me in their overcoats. Mama is as pale as plaster. Papa shares her paleness; his face is drained of color. At this brink of disaster I failed the test. I was not thinking of them. Every time I see Emil, I am afraid he will ask me about my parents and about Anastasia.
Emil is exactly my age, but his experiences have been worse than mine. He was in three work camps before he was sent to the railway station.
“How did you overcome the hunger and the cold?” I asked him, immediately regretting my question.
“I thought about my parents the entire time and asked God to bring me back to them.”
“Are you a believing person?”
“No. But one time something strange happened in a work camp that affected me. I don’t know who was behind it. On one of the unbearably cold nights, I thought my end was near. At first I hoped that Leon, the oldest one in our barrack, would come and cover me with a blanket. He didn’t come. I was sure I wouldn’t last till morning, and I shut my eyes as I suffered from great pain. Suddenly a voice spoke to me and said, ‘Emil, don’t be afraid; your life is not over. There’s much more you will do.’ At first I thought it was my father’s voice. I was wrong. It was a different voice but directed at me. Again I said to myself: soon Leon will come and cover me with a blanket. Leon didn’t come and the voice did not return, but I miraculously overcame the cold.”
“Who, then, spoke to you?” I asked cautiously.
“I have no idea. Someone who grew up with religious faith perhaps expects revelation. I have no such expectations.”
“But the voice strengthened you nevertheless.”
“Yes. And I waited for it to come back, but it didn’t. I don’t put much stock in hearing voices. I don’t relate to things that are beyond me.”
“Man is alone in the world?” I couldn’t help but say it.
“Apparently so.”
I felt sorry for my friend, whose face was filled with light and wonder but who ignored the voice that called out to him.