Before we went out on the raid, Kamil spoke to us. “Our fate, my dear ones, is in your hands today. Our camp—which grew, thank God, beyond expectations—is battered and suffering, and if we do not feed these people, they will die. The base is in desperate need of food, tents, and metal to make stoves. We must save these tormented bodies so their souls can return to them. Once we were few, but today, thank God, we are many. You are God’s faithful in this land, performing a righteous mission.”
When Kamil speaks, you feel that you are not alone in the world. You are surrounded by loyal people, and you rise to the challenge. Kamil does not use the word “sacrifice.” He has rejected that word on several occasions. “We seek not death but life. Our togetherness is a wondrous unity.” Kamil does not blame God for not imposing justice on the world; he blames instead people who do not deserve to be called human.
“Thoughts, even exalted ones, make no difference. We must focus on actions,” says Felix. This severe outlook comes naturally to Felix, but it’s difficult for me. Ever since the new people came to us, a part of myself disappeared. I haven’t yet connected to these people.
During the day, I’m responsible for boiling water, and I help Salo, Maxie, and Karl bathe the emaciated bodies of the survivors. I must admit, I am repelled by these human skeletons. They look like scary ghosts. Your hands find the strength to do their duty, but your heart, almost defiantly, refuses to identify with them. These people exude death and despair, and your heart lacks the strength to say, These are my brothers and sisters, and I must be happy that they are here.
Danzig’s huge presence pulls the survivors from their despair, and they lift their eyes to him as to a savior. But most effective in their revival, believe it or not, is Victor. He’s not repulsed by urine and excrement. He teaches us the meaning of brotherly love.
Victor stays close to the sufferers and does all he can to relieve them. He has clearly undergone a great change. The Ukrainian farmer in him is still evident, and in the cornfields he would be no different from the rest of his tribe. But here, among us, some of his gestures bring to mind a monk who has forsworn selfishness and is devoted to all mankind.
Kamil asks him now and then about his village and the neighboring villages, and about the Ukrainian and his lady friend who were killed and the daughter who was abducted. Victor tries hard to remember but cannot recall more than he has already told us.
“Paul, Paul, where have you gone?” I once heard Kamil moan. I suddenly pictured Paul, tall and agile, a fighter whose every graceful move was precise and silent.