The journey without Mutti continued eastwards with stops and starts for several more days and there was no sign of her anywhere.
Apart from my own personal anxiety, the atmosphere in the train was becoming relaxed and even jovial. Some trucks carried Italian prisoners of war who were overjoyed to be out of the fighting. They were full of jokes and songs and sunny charm. Soon everybody was intermingling. Many men and women, starved of each other’s company for so long, flirted with each other and it wasn’t long before they were making love in the dark swaying carriages. I was intrigued by the impassioned noises that accompanied the rhythm of the wheels.
All the coupling that was taking place encouraged a man in our carriage to look my way. He tried to creep under my quilt and I didn’t like the idea at all. But I understood. He was such a lonely, pathetic figure yearning for love once more and I didn’t want to humiliate him by pushing him away. Luckily for me, I had eaten so many hard-boiled eggs that my constitution complained with a terrible sulphurous odour and much to my relief it seemed to put him off.
Eventually we pulled into the city of Czernowitz which had been part of Rumania. The town had once held a large Jewish population protected by the Rumanian government and rumours of our arrival had preceded us. As we left the station, the streets were lined with Jewish people waving, clapping and coming forward to embrace us and offer small gifts of food or clothes. We were very touched to feel such love and support.
We were marched to an empty school where mattresses filled a large hall which was to be our shelter for a few more days. I was beginning to get used to – and even to enjoy – this nomadic life.
After we had settled ourselves, a small sortie of the more energetic of us went off to explore the town. We walked together in companionable groups of threes and fours, gazing into shops and wandering through residential areas.
Once more the need for toilets began to occupy our minds, so Rootje, Kea and I decided to go into a block of flats, knock on any door and explain the situation. As luck would have it the door was opened by a motherly Jewish lady who beamed at us and immediately welcomed us in. True to tradition she insisted we stay to have tea in her home. She sat us around her table and we tucked into home-made cake and sweet tea. Although there was a scarcity of food, her hospitality reminded us of home and made us feel very emotional. We told her of everything we had been through and when we left we hugged and kissed her as if we’d known one another all our lives.
As we went out we noticed a Mezzuzah (the sign of a Jewish household) on her doorpost. From then on we looked for homes that displayed a Mezzuzah. It always worked! Whenever we knocked on the door we were welcomed with such warmth and love that we enjoyed good cooking and home comforts many times over. These people too had suffered hardship but they shared what they could with us as honoured guests. I felt very pleased I was Jewish.
Everyone we spoke to hated the Germans intensely. We were the few who had been rescued from their clutches and everybody rejoiced that the Nazi’s ‘Final Solution’ had not been final. We felt a great sense of achievement that through all our adversity we had survived.
I was enjoying myself in Czernowitz even without Mutti. I was experiencing a new kind of independence and although I worried about her I fell asleep quite easily on my own.
In the middle of one night the lights in the hall were suddenly switched on and a group of agitated Russian soldiers entered, shouting at us to get up and help. As I woke I saw them emptying sacks of potatoes into huge piles which had to be peeled immediately. The Russians had sent for reinforcements and many soldiers were about to arrive. They would need to be fed during the night before they left for the Front.
‘Not more potato peeling,’ grumbled some of the older, grumpier women. ‘We’ve done enough hard labour,’ and they flatly refused to get up.
How very ungracious, I thought feeling ashamed of their attitude.
Kea and I willingly agreed to help with the soup. We more spirited girls would get it done between us. By now we looked upon everything as an adventure and were glad to feel that we could contribute something to the war effort.
We could smell vodka on the breath of the soldiers who organized the potato peeling. They carried buckets of water in relays and as they did so they sang traditional Russian songs in deep melodious voices. I was enchanted; alive and excited. When the potato pile had disappeared they brought in their balalaikas and started to dance. Down on their knees, around on their hands, acrobatic jumping, it was brilliant dancing full of verve and life performed with amazing athletic ability. I had never seen anything like it before. It was a blazing performance as each soldier tumbled in, one after the other, using different kinds of jumps or steps, twirling, whirling around – every one of them an expert dancer. It would have raised the roof in a theatre. We clapped and cheered them on, completely enthralled by their talent and energy. What men these Russians were!
Finally they wanted us to join in. We tried but after one or two feeble attempts we collapsed laughing. I thought I could dance with them, it looked so easy when they performed, but I couldn’t manage even one simple step.
In the light of dawn we crawled back exhausted to our mattresses glowing with excitement at the exuberance of these inspired men. They were genuine, straightforward, uncomplicated and open-hearted and I loved being with them.
I sank into a deep sleep, but was drawn back to semiconsciousness by the sound of excited voices. Someone was shaking me. I opened my heavy eyelids and there stood Mutti smiling down at me. I had never really doubted our reunion but strangely my reaction was one of intense anger. How silly of her to have missed all the fun, the good food and company. I sat up and railed at her, getting rid of all my frustration while tears rolled down her cheeks. Then at last we hugged each other and went to sleep reconciled.