By midday we reached the summit with all the refugees. Danzig has not been on a mission since he was wounded, but he helps Tsila and Hermann Cohen. His hands are not what they were, but they’re still strong enough to lift objects of medium size. And when he hugs Milio, his fingers, stained with tobacco, tremble.
Among the survivors Hermann Cohen discovered Teresa, the daughter of his younger sister. She’s sixteen, but her bony face makes her look older than her years. Hermann Cohen knelt down and asked if she recognized him. The girl answered yes and closed her eyes. Hermann Cohen could not control his emotions and covered his face. Salo hugged him and said, “The girl will recover, and in a few days you’ll be able to talk with her.”
It’s hard to rely on our prisoner-doctor. He constantly complains and claims his capture was illegal. He was rebuked by Kamil, but he holds his own. Salo despises him but requires his help. Two surgeries were urgently needed. Krinitski was taken to see the patients and showed no goodwill. Kamil warned him then and there that the unit would hold a tribunal and try him for refusing to obey an order. During wartime, the penalty for that refusal is death.
Krinitski apparently understood the gravity of his situation and went to work, but he announced before beginning the surgery that he could not be held responsible for its outcome. Kamil stood firm and warned him that if he was derelict in his medical duty, he risked his own death.
Felix grinds his teeth in anger. In his opinion, we should set up a tribunal right away and put Krinitski on trial. A doctor who does not treat the sick willingly, from a sense of duty, is a criminal.
The next day Krinitski operated on two more patients. There are several more who will require surgery, but we will first see how these people recover.
The German officer was taken to the summit, but before he could be interrogated, he fell ill with typhus. He ran a high fever and mumbled in his delirium that he was faithful to his homeland and did not violate his loyalty oath. His presence and his screams were a burden for us, and we probably should have left him where we found him. In any event, what’s done is done.
THAT NIGHT WE WENT on a raid. We are running out of food. We now number one hundred and seventy-three people. If we don’t stock up immediately, the survivors will die of hunger. Hermann Cohen brings semolina and flour to the kitchen in rationed amounts. Ever since the survivors arrived and he saw his niece, he has not been the same. He chain-smokes. Once or twice a day he goes into the tent where his niece lies and looks at her. This strong, stable man, who withstood great stress and was a brilliant logistical planner, is collapsing. Kamil hugs him and says, “We have come a long way, and we will do more. The coming days are the most critical. The Red Army is on its way to us. The question is whether we can last another month. Without you, I am certain, we cannot do it.” Hermann Cohen doesn’t respond to this compliment. He covers his face with both hands.