In the light of day we saw how gaunt and exhausted these people were, beyond hunger and thirst. Were they happy to be returned to life? It was hard to know. Their faces, which for so very long had known no joy, remained sunken and frozen, without expression.
Kamil watched over the groups in the rear, so we were ready for any surprise attack. The fighters went from person to person to extend a helping hand; they carried those too weak to walk. Karl carried three children on his big body. Kamil had prepared us for this moment. We had drilled day and night, and it showed. We were chained to this caravan of survivors.
In the afternoon we saw from afar four people carrying two large pots. We knew they were bringing tea and cookies baked by Tsila. We called out to them, and they shouted back. We were happier to see them than the survivors were. They were too weak to be happy. We fed them spoonfuls of tea and cookie crumbs. Consuming even this little was hard for them.
We could tell at a glance that among these suffering people some were alert, and their lips were taut with amazement. The look on their faces said, We never imagined we would ever again see compassionate people.
We set up two campfires and filled the pots with snow to boil the tea. Kamil raised his large head and spoke. “The world stands upon the individual,” he said, “and we will protect and preserve each one. In the eyes of the enemy we are numbers, subhuman. They didn’t just want to kill us but also to demolish the image of God that is within us. Thank God, we have returned to what we used to be, and that is no small thing. We are the children of parents and the parents of children. Brothers and sisters, from now on every one of us will go by his first and family names, which have been handed down for generations. It is forbidden to change these names for any reason. We will make sure to call everyone by name. Help us renew the covenant between us and our names.”
The people looked at one another and could not believe their ears. They had not heard words like these for a long time. And it was good that Kamil was the leader of this operation. If Felix had been in command, he would have kept silent. A hard-won victory deepens his silence.
The fires, tea, and cookie crumbs did their quiet work, and it’s good that we are walking in small groups. First-aid workers go from child to child, to each of the elderly, bandaging wounds, splinting sprained ankles, dispensing pain medicine, and all the while learning people’s names.
Kamil had wanted to keep moving at night, but the wind and cold prevented it. The campfires and big pots didn’t warm the area much. Just before dawn the wind died down, and we continued on our way.
In the meantime, a squad came down from the mountaintop to help us carry the wounded. Kamil was happy to see them and quickly gave each one an assignment. Our worries and doubts subsided. The job allowed no room for that. Felix is right when he claims, “Let the job do what only it knows how to do. The solution is in the doing, not the wishing.”
I WAS SUDDENLY SAD for the loss of the intimacy we had developed among ourselves: the heart-to-heart talks, the study evenings, watching the sunset and sunrise, Tsila’s delicious cooking, the wide-open eyes of little Milio, and the passion of studious young Michael. From now on, Kamil says, “We are devoted to all, and we thank God, who has given us the privilege of this mission. We are not able to stop all the death trains, but what we can do, we will do. We will not sit and do nothing.”