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It is not known precisely how many Roma were killed in the Holocaust. While exact figures or percentages cannot be ascertained, historians estimate that the Germans and their allies killed around 25 percent of all European Roma. Of slightly less than one million Roma believed to have been living in Europe before the war, the Germans and their Axis partners killed up to 220,000. After the war, discrimination against Roma continued throughout Central and Eastern Europe. The Federal Republic of Germany determined that all measures taken against Roma before 1943 were legitimate official measures against persons committing criminal acts, not the result of policy driven by racial prejudice. This decision effectively closed the door to restitution for thousands of Roma victims, who had been incarcerated, forcibly sterilized, and deported out of Germany for no specific crime. The postwar Bavarian criminal police took over the research files of the Nazi regime, including the registry of Roma who had resided in the Greater German Reich. —Holocaust Encyclopedia
December 20, 1943 – October 2, 1946
In the autumn of 1943, Anastasia Gromyko and Gregor Orlovski had led the Roma, who had hidden in the Russian taiga for over two years, back to the western Russian camp from which they had formerly operated against the Nazis. Instead of being deployed to help with the Communist war effort against the Nazis, they were prepared for an entirely different mission. They were trained in trades, spy tradecraft, and American English language so they could immigrate to the United States while remaining in the service of the USSR.
Anastasia put it this way to Tobor Merikano, the leader of her male Roma agents; “Comrade Tobor, America may be the USSR’s ally now, but Stalin correctly foresees that after the war, the United States will be Communism’s primary enemy. Under orders from Moscow Center, Communist agents in America are cultivating Roma families to sponsor the immigration of fellow gypsies liberated from the Nazi camps or emerging from hiding once the Nazis are defeated.”
“What does this have to do with us?”
“We have intelligence that the American Office of Strategic Services is currently recruiting Roma in France to identify and interdict Communist Roma agents trying to infiltrate the United States. In the confusion, some Roma are being recruited and deployed by both sides. Moscow Center needs you and the others to become visible to the OSS spotters and gain their trust and support so you can enter America without the red tape.”
“How are we supposed to do that? We can’t just walk up to every American we see in Europe and volunteer our services.” He was incredulous and sarcastic.
“Moscow Center is identifying the OSS talent spotters for us. They’ll arrange the meeting with the OSS. All you and the others need to do is continue to be the heroes that you are and show up at the meeting when the time comes.”
“We don’t know American English very well at this stage.” He was feeling daunted at the thought of learning another language in time for the meeting.
“The OSS spotters aren’t selecting Roma on the basis of their linguistic skills. They’re only keen to hear a convincing story through their own translators. You and the Mettbachs will have done so many heroics against the Nazis with the French resistance, you’ll be embraced by the OSS and sent with your whole families to America.”
“Let’s suppose things work out with the OSS. When we get to America, what happens then?” He sounded concerned. He did not know the mechanics of their entry or how they would be supported in their new environment.
“You’ll be settled and learn about the country while you wait for orders.”
“How long will we have to wait?”
“I can’t tell you that. Moscow Center will know when the time is right. Then they’ll send your orders. All you have to do is be ready to execute the orders when they come.”
Tobor was not the only Roma with questions about the purpose of their training. Drina and the other Roma women were vociferous in their anxiety about the new mission.
“Comrade Anastasia, I’m concerned. We’ve been sheltered and fed by the USSR for years. Now we’re to travel half way around the world. How do you expect us to survive in the new environment without support?”
“Comrade Drina, don’t worry. Moscow Center will manage your transitions. You and your sponsoring families in America will be paid for your services. The pay will be modest, so you’ll want to use your survival skills as much as possible. You learned to survive winters in the Russian taiga. There’s no better school than that.”
The others were stunned by the news. The scope of the move was just beginning to dawn on them. They took heart from Anastasia’s words. Still, they were worried about having so many parts of their plan run by others they did not know.
“How soon will we be leaving?”
“That depends on schedules we do not control. The Americans will want to move quickly once they make their decisions. Moscow Center believes the United States government will want to identify their Roma by the end of 1945 and transport them to America by the end of 1946. This is a small part of a very secret plan they have for capturing the best Europeans for their future, including the cream of the Nazi scientists.”
“You mentioned sponsors in America. Will the sponsors be Roma like us?” Kizzy asked.
“Kizzy, your sponsors will be philanthropists who decidedly aren’t Roma. They have a lot of money through capitalism, but their guilt constrains them to contribute to our cause. Once you arrive there, you’ll be supported by American Roma in the same families as you.”
“How will we blend in?” asked Simza. “Walther is concerned that we’ll be easy to target in a foreign country, where we don’t know the customs, and we don’t speak the language like a native.”
“Simza, I understand your concern. Roma in America live just as you have in Russia and in Europe. There Roma live together and travel in informal groups. They speak Romani. They haven’t yet been integrated into American society. The Americans are not pressuring Roma to assimilate. They only care that Roma abide by their laws.”
“What should we do here in Russia while we wait for orders to meet the OSS spotters?” Tobor asked. He was glad they had a new objective now, but he was still anxious to have an idea of what would happen at every stage so he could prioritize their activities for best results.
“Primarily, you’re to practice American English. We have Agatha, an American language tutor, coming to help.”
“What else can we do in the meantime?”
“You can practice any trade you can use to make money in America. Homer, the husband of your language tutor, will teach the men how to use basic tools to straighten out bent and crumpled metals on crashed automobiles. Americans are always crashing their automobiles. Agatha will teach you women how to sew, knit and crochet to make money.”
The Roma were divided in their opinions about the impending move to America. They argued among themselves about the difficulties involved. Some embraced the change enthusiastically. They were reasonably convinced by what Anastasia said. Others wanted something like the status quo. Those people would not listen to any reasonable conversation.
Homer and Agatha Fromstein arrived three days later to begin instruction. They occupied the one empty wagon and quickly adapted to their new surroundings and pitched in to help with the communal chores. They were both cheerful and optimistic. Agatha used her work skills as the basis for her initial language training. Homer also taught American language skills through teaching how to treat prior-coated metals. Although they were only part gypsy, within a week of their arrival, they easily became part of the Roma community.
Everyone became involved in the training. Anastasia joined the women’s sewing training group. Gregor joined the men’s metals training. Of course, at least half of each day was spent doing the usual duties of taking care of the farm animals, caring for children in the growing nursery or doing maintenance on the wagons. Language training continued during the communal morning breakfasts and evening dinners in the main barracks. Classes for children were organized alongside classes for the adults. The children were progressing rapidly. They were able to converse in basic English while the adults were still struggling to string together words.
“Anastasia, I’m not surprised that the children are progressing rapidly while their parents are relatively slow language learners.”
Anastasia nodded in agreement because she knew how relatively easy it was for a child to learn a new language when compared with an adult.
“Agatha, consider that the reinforcement you give the adults will teach the children many times over. It’ll be more important for the children than the adults to adjust to their new lives in America. You don’t have much more time to train them, because we’ve received orders to move straight into Europe as fast as the Allied armies press their advantage towards Berlin.”
Gypsy life continued through the early spring of 1944 when Tobor, Nicu, Pali and Pesha received orders to travel to France to help the French resistance prepare for the Allied invasion. Anastasia called a meeting of the Roma men and discussed their latest orders from Moscow Center.
“The liberation of France is expected to come soon, and it’ll be over quickly. We’ve been ordered to preposition Tobor and the Mettbach brothers to meet the OSS agents south of Paris.”
“What will we tell the Americans?” Tobor was worried. This was a big life change for all of them. He did not want to make a mistake that would affect everyone.
“Tobor, you’re to tell the Americans what you did working with the French resistance. Naturally, that work separated you from your families, but you’ll want to bargain for the women and children to travel with you to America. The OSS Men will know they have to relocate whole families. Agatha will teach you what to say when you’re questioned by the OSS.”
“Will we want to mention our having lived in the USSR and how we worked with Moscow Center?”
“There’s no harm in that, Nicu. When you’re questioned, stress your desire to have a new beginning after the ravages of war. Say you had to survive by any means available. Tell them you were lucky to avoid Auschwitz, the death camp where some in your families perished. If they ask about your time in the USSR, tell the truth. This camp will be long gone by the time they have the opportunity to check the facts.”
The four men left for France right away. It was a dangerous journey, but they used religious cover that made them invisible to the authorities.
When they arrived in France, the men were welcomed warmly by the resistance men they had helped organize before the occupation. They filled the ranks and did what was necessary by way of sabotage, assassinations, and support. They moved so fast in so many places all over France that Tobor had a hard time keeping Anastasia informed of all their activities.
By the time of the Normandy invasion in June, Tobor and his three men were considered old hands and heroes. Their bravery and spirit easily caught the eyes of the OSS spotters, as the American troops advanced through France in the wake of the successful Allied landing.
Tobor did not have orders from Moscow Center when Clive Bartram, the OSS lead spotter, approached him directly with the offer of an American cigarette.
“Tobor Merikano, you’ve done well. You and your three Roma brothers are fearless and brave. After the war, would you consider relocating to America, compliments of the US government?”
Tobor was ready for Clive’s approach. He had rehearsed his role in the dialog. He was not taken aback by the gesture of good faith. Still, he took a moment to compose himself before he answered the man’s question.
“I have distant family in America. I’d like to go. Europe’s still struggling with the idea of accommodating us Roma. In America, my family will be free.”
“We haven’t much time, and I need a commitment from you. What will it take for you to make a decision today?”
“First, I want all my people to go to America.” He said this confidently because he believed it.
“How many are they?”
“Besides my wife and me, twelve men, twelve women and thirty children.”
“We can handle only six families with children. Is that okay?”
Tobor thought for a moment. “Yes, okay. Six families with all the children.”
“What else will you need?”
“We Roma have no money. The Nazis wouldn’t let us work in Europe except in the work camps. So we’ll need travel and expenses to America and lodging, food and a basic income once we arrive. It’d be good also to be reunited with our extended Roma families there.”
“We’ll take care of your travel and all expenses. We can begin transporting the women and children as soon as the war ends. We’ll plan to send you and your men afterward once your work is done here in Europe. American gypsy families will be ready to help support you when you arrive in the United States. You’ll have a living wage as your income. Do we have a deal?”
“Yes, we have a deal. I also speak for my brothers-in-law Nicu, Pali, and Pesha, who also fight with the resistance here in France, and for two other men, both named Yoska.”
Bartram made notes of the six names in a black book he carried. Then the two men shook hands. They made arrangements to meet at a designated farmhouse just south of Paris the day after the German surrender. The OSS man gave Tobor a carton of cigarettes and disappeared.
When Tobor wired his encrypted report to Anastasia that evening, he outlined the terms to which he and the OSS man named Bartram had agreed. He named the men whose families were included in the deal—himself, the three Mettbachs and the two Yoska’s. Anastasia acknowledged his transmission and wrote that she would convey his message to Moscow Center and inform the people he named.
Anastasia did not wait a moment after she had sent the wireless message to Tobor and the message to Moscow Center. Immediately she called a meeting of the wives of Tobor, Nicu, Pali and Pesha and the two Yoska’s.
“Tobor has sent good news. You and your families have been selected to go to America. When the war ends, the American OSS will arrange for your transportation, food, lodging and wages. Moscow Center will transport you and your children to France and then America.
“What about the other families? What will happen to them?” Nadya asked.
“We have other plans for them. I’m not at liberty to talk about those on account of security. From now on, you’ll be sequestered in one group and the others will be in another group. That way security can be maintained. Your ultimate separation will also be easier than otherwise.”
“Simza isn’t going to like being separated from her brothers.”
“That can’t be helped. Think about your opportunity. If you have any questions or concerns, don’t brood and talk among each other. Instead, come right to me.”
When that meeting ended, Anastasia and Gregor called together the families that were not selected to go to America.
Anastasia put her best foot forward. “Comrades, congratulations! You’ve been selected to go to Moldova after the Germans have been defeated. You’ll be separated from the other families until then so your parting will be easier. From now on, you’ll work, eat and play in a separate group from the others. The nursery will be divided so the children won’t be upset once the groups start to travel.”
“What about Simza and her brothers?” Walther asked while gesturing towards his wife, who was weeping uncontrollably.
Anastasia did not acknowledge any sympathy for Simza. She was completely cool and objective as she always was in matters of state business. “For now, they will be separated. If any of you have other questions or concerns, come right to me with them. Gregor has a few words to say. Listen up.”
“Comrades, since you’ll no longer need to learn American English, you’ll be instructed starting tomorrow in the Russian language by Anastasia and me. Agatha and Homer will be devoted entirely to the other group from now on.”
As with all Anastasia’s plans, the details were executed immediately. The wagons were rearranged in two separate circles. The nursery was divided into two parts. The eating area was also divided by partitions set up between the two sections. The livestock remained in a single area because they would remain with the Moldova group.
That evening the mood in the camp was profoundly sad as if bereavement had occurred. Simza remained inconsolable. At Walther’s insistence, Anastasia went to her wagon.
In a cold, authoritative tone Anastasia said, “Simza, your grief is neither appropriate nor patriotic. Except for our time in the taiga, your brothers have been in France fighting the Nazis. You were apart from them for years. America is another front in a broader war, that’s all.”
“I’ll never see them again. I know it. This is Tobor’s doing. He and Walther hate each other. This is Tobor’s revenge.”
“That is not so. Tobor knew the Moldova group must have leadership. Walther will be the group’s leader. Who else could assume that role?”
Simza thought about this for a moment. “I can see merit in that point of view.”
“So rather than making everyone upset by your sobbing, why don’t you make the best of things? Are you perhaps a little disappointed you won’t be going to America? Well, Moldova is a marvelous country too.”
“I suppose you’re right. There’s no use in my crying. I’ll have to make the best of things.”
“You have always done that, Comrade.”
Anastasia handed Simza a handkerchief, which she received gladly. As she was departing Simza’s wagon, Anastasia nodded and winked to Walther, who looked relieved and rushed inside to be with his wife.
A few weeks later, Anastasia received news from Moscow Center about the persecution of Roma in Germany. The news was not good.
Anastasia reported, “Roma are now being sent directly to the Auschwitz camp. Work camps for Roma and other outcasts are no better than death camps. All the German camps suffer because the Nazis are redeploying every available soldier and all supplies to combat the Allied invasion of Europe in the west and the Russian advance from the east. The camps are being run by sadists. Supplies are nonexistent.”
The Roma were uniformly stricken by grief and filled with newfound determination to keep fighting against the Germans.
In view of their anguish, Anastasia decided to hold a daily briefing for all Roma on the news from Moscow Center. She did not withhold Tobor’s reports from France, where the forces of resistance were suffering heavy losses.
“Fortunately,” she told the others, “Tobor and the Mettbach brothers are not among the casualties. The intelligence Tobor has gathered includes documents spelling out atrocities against Roma throughout Europe directed by the Nazis. He has amassed evidence and third party accounts of Roma being forcibly sterilized and used for medical experiments in some of the work camps in Germany.”
“That’s horrible, Anastasia!” Kizzy exclaimed.
“There’s more. The Nazis are making no secret of their analysis of Roma bloodlines. Their propaganda vilifies Roma whose blood has been ‘polluted’ by breeding outside the Roma community.”
Anastasia had no trouble using Tobor’s reports to fuel her Roma’s hatred of Nazis and their methods. The evidence did not have to be embellished to have its effects.
Anastasia had little to report about Moldova until she received word from Moscow Center that two Moldovan Roma families were being sent to her camp temporarily.
She explained to her Roma, “These two families opted to take refugee status in a bid for safety while the Russian Army pushes to the west all along our front. Gregor has arranged to obtain two used wagons for the Moldovans’ accommodations.”
Anastasia integrated the refugees with her Moldova group. She told Gregor, “The interaction among the Moldovans and our group will be good for morale. In fact, the Moldovan gypsies will serve as the critical connecting points for the life and culture of Moldova. They’ll also help us plan the transition of our Moldova group to Moldova.”
Meanwhile, Agatha and Homer schooled Anastasia’s “American” group about the country’s geography and history. They taught that among the states, Massachusetts and Virginia were most tolerant of gypsies. They gave statistics about gypsy caravans in the United States. Surveying the U.S. legal code, they reported the presence of no American laws impinging the freedoms of the Roma population.
Agatha told them, “We have no idea where the OSS intends to locate you after your immigration. We must remain flexible. Loose networks of communication among Roma in America will help us.”
“Are you and Homer going to accompany us to America?” Nadya asked.
“No, Nadya, we are not going with you. Homer and I will remain here in the USSR to train others like you.”
“What if we run into trouble with the Americans?” Her face was creased with worry.
Agatha had a benevolent view. “You’ll have friends and family to help you. Relax. Americans are generally tolerant. They have come from all over the world, so their culture is accommodative. They don’t want others interfering with their freedoms, so they leave new arrivals alone. Pockets of prejudice do exist, but in the main you’ll feel comfortable as you have not felt in Europe in your history.”
“So the USSR wants us to fight against America on American soil. Why,” Drina asked, “would we want to harm a people who will let us live as we wish to?”
Homer answered her question. “Americans have not awakened to the promise of Communism. They are still deluded by the false promise of capitalism. Your job, in part, will be to help them become aware of the historical process and the futility of swimming against the tide of history.”
Drina was not satisfied with Homer’s answer, but she remained silent. She decided to talk the matter over with Tobor when she saw him again. In a quiet meeting with the Roma women, she told Nadya, “Everything I’ve learned about America suggests it’s going to be a most hospitable environment. Americans are going to smash the Nazis and free Europe from the German stranglehold. The numerous people of German descent within America are not Nazis. Why should we fear them? Why should we consider them to be our enemies?”
“Drina, we are pawns in a broad historical process. Let’s see where we land in America and chart our course from there. As long as we are together with our families, we’ll be all right.”
“Kizzy, what do you think?”
“Drina, Tobor is the key to everything. If we stay close to him, we’ll be fine.”
Drina knew that was true, but she did not appreciate Kizzy for making her point. She still wondered about the real relationship between Kizzy and Tobor. She was jealous of any woman who got close to her husband, particularly a woman who shared a portion of his secret past. She felt her own past with Tobor was the only meaningful connection between them outside their being husband and wife. Drina was afraid other women might know more about Tobor than she did. His secrets were unfathomable by her. Part of him she knew she would never know. It was hard for her to accept that simple fact. Try as he might, Tobor could not convince her that his secret life had no bearing on his enduring love for her.
Tormenting her during those balmy summer days were the questions, “Why did Tobor select the two Yoska’s and their families to go with the group to America?” and “What does it mean that Kizzy’s going to be among the women travelers?” She would not be satisfied until she had the answers, but she did not know when the answers would come.
Anastasia called the “American” group together to announce their imminent departure for Marseilles, France by way of Tbilisi, Georgia. A farewell feast with roast goat and wine was the group’s send off. Led by Gregor, the group left in their wagons at first light the day afterward.
As always, the men rode horses, the women drove the wagons, and the children rode in the rear of the wagons. Riding south through the Russian countryside in summer, the group saw no signs of a country involved in a world war. They proceeded down the old military road through Georgia to the port of Poti, where a Sicilian fishing boat waited to take them to France. The Roma were reluctant to leave their wagon homes, but Gregor helped them transfer to the fishing boat. He gave Big Yoska the money to pay for their journey. This was appropriate since Big Yoska was the senior Roma in the group.
As the boat shoved off from the pier, the Roma stood on deck waving at Gregor. He waved back at them and wished them good luck. Remaining on the pier and waving until they could no longer see him, he was a symbol of their former life in Russia.
The Sicilian fishermen became a contrary symbol of their new life. They pinched the bottoms of the Roma women and jostled and jeered at the Roma men when they objected. The captain of the boat laid down the law about proper behavior. He threatened to throw any troublemakers overboard. That settled down the fishermen for a few days as they transited the Bosporus.
One night in the north Aegean Sea, a fisherman was lost overboard in calm waters. The man had pinched Nadya’s bottom on numerous occasions. The morning after the man was found to be missing, Big Yoska stropped his knife on the deck openly, smiling. The fishermen did not say anything to Yoska or confront him. Everyone was too afraid to call him out.
The boat continued fishing while it transited the Aegean and entered the Mediterranean Sea. This was more for show than substance. The vessel was not stopped along its track, which hugged the shore except where it had to cross the Adriatic. Once in Italian waters, the boat continued along the coast of Italy. Finally, it docked briefly in Marseilles, France, where Tobor and a second man stood on the pier waiting.
Tobor and the OSS man called Bartram went aboard the fishing vessel and ordered the captain to shove off immediately. Bartram quickly interviewed everyone on board and took down their names and ages. Tobor explained that everyone except him and the Mettbachs would be transferred that night to a freighter bound for Norfolk, Virginia. He met the Mettbach wives to update them on the health of their husbands. He told Drina that within a year he would be able to join her in America. He hugged her tight and used his thumb to wipe away her tears. She melted into his arms and took courage from him.
Tobor was looking fit and alert. The OSS man clearly admired him. The Roma group felt proud to be associated with this hero. When they reached the freighter, which was at anchor, the women and children were transferred first and shown where to settle below decks by the captain. Bartram gave Tobor a bag with money to pay for the Atlantic passage. This Tobor handed to Big Yoska. Then both Yoska’s shook Tobor’s hand and climbed aboard.
The captain of the fishing boat then backed off and proceeded to a point along the shore, where a lone man in a rowboat with a flashlight signaled. The OSS man paid the captain what he had bargained. He and Tobor climbed into the rowboat. The fishing boat turned on its signature white and green fishing lights and went back to plying its trade. The rowboat proceeded to shore, where the OSS man and Tobor stepped out to rejoin the resistance.
The Roma aboard the freighter had a calm and uneventful passage across the Atlantic Ocean. It anchored out near the port of Norfolk, Virginia. An OSS man-and-woman team and a physician came in three large motorboats to transfer the Roma from the freighter to the shore. They brought the documents each family would need for residency in America. They quickly moved through with a clipboard and pencils to record each name. Satisfied they had identified all the passengers and no more, they helped the Roma transfer to their boats. Big Yoska tried to pay the freighter captain what was owed, but the OSS man told him to keep his money for emergencies. The OSS man then paid the passage money.
Once in the boats, they did not stop at Norfolk but motored in formation up the river to Portsmouth. The Roma were met by American gypsies at the dock. They belonged to a caravan that parked on a farm near the water. The OSS team and the doctor introduced the Roma to the lead gypsy at the Portsmouth camp. They gave him a carbon copy of the roster of Roma they had brought from the freighter. He verified that all the named persons were present and signed a paper receipt to that effect.
The OSS team departed, leaving the doctor to accompany the Roma to the gypsy camp. Each family was assigned to a brand new wagon with all amenities. They were provided with soap and tubs of water so they could wash after their long journey. They were given food and drink. The prevailing mood was relief. Tensions were still high but winding down. During that time, the doctor examined every new arrival. He departed on the evening of the second day, satisfied that the entire group was healthy.
On the third day, a huge feast was laid so the Roma could meet all the host gypsies in a festive setting. Roast goat, freshly baked bread, and homemade wine were served. The men and the women rejoiced in their new surroundings.
“Nadya, this place is just like our old home in Germany.”
“Yes, Drina, I think we’re going to like this country.” She lay back into Big Yoska’s arms as he laughed while two kids butted heads and raced among the children.
“I’m sorry Tobor is not here to enjoy our new home with us.”
“He’ll come as soon as he can. I’m sure of it. In the meantime, we’ll take care to know our new surroundings.”
Drina watched her children wander through the wagons of the caravan and play in the meadow they all shared. The new Roma children played with the resident gypsy children in the meadow. They had no trouble making friends.
The adults were no different in this respect. When introductions were made, the European Roma discovered they had distant relatives among the American gypsies. Catching up on family histories was a way to get acquainted. Wine helped the adults’ mood, which was delight tempered by the newcomers’ stories of what had happened to Roma in a Europe controlled by Nazis.
Tobor received word about the Roma’s arrival at Portsmouth from Bartram. This put Tobor’s mind at ease as he helped resettle Roma who had escaped the camps or come out of hiding as the Allies advanced.
The OSS man cautioned Tobor, “The menace of prejudice against Roma has not yet passed. German propaganda made an evil impression in a land where prejudice against Roma was already deeply ingrained and widespread. Likely, the Germans will continue to oppress and persecute gypsies even after the Third Reich falls. Make sure your people know they must be ready to get on the move at a moment’s notice.”
After Hitler’s suicide, Tobor was increasingly used by the OSS in bloody assassinations of escaping Germans who had been involved with the death squads and concentration camps. As the Allied forces consolidated their advance across Europe, traditional law enforcement took over from the rough justice of the resistance forces. Bartram knew it was time to move his Roma out of Europe to America.
“It’s time to get you and your people out of Europe,” he told Tobor. “We’ll extract you and the Mettbachs as soon as possible. Tobor, compliments of the United States of America, you’re going to your new home.”
The OSS extraction operation was flawless. Tobor, Nicu, Pali, and Pesha were rowed out to an anchored freighter like the one that took the other Roma in their group to America. Bartram shook each man’s hand and thanked him for his service in the war effort.
“I wish you luck. You won’t see me again. Others will meet you in America and give you money and instructions.” In parting, Bartram gave Tobor a sack of money to pay his passage and tide him over for a few months in America. Then the agent was rowed back to the shore while Tobor and his men went below decks to get situated for their trans-Atlantic crossing.
The contrast between a life of constant action among combatants and a life contained by the iron walls of a freighter could not have been starker. The Roma had been active around the clock since they first set foot in France. Now they had nightmares about their adventures stemming back into the 1930s. Since the anchor of their Russian camp was now gone, they had no real home anymore.
Tobor’s last contact with Anastasia was to tell her by wireless that he was being extracted and shipped to America by the OSS. She sent him word that everything was going exactly as planned. She wished him luck and a happy reunion with his family.
When Tobor walked the freighter’s decks in boredom during the crossing, he thought through what he had been through during his adult life. He wondered whether anything in his remaining years would compare with what he had faced during his years of fighting with the resistance against the Nazis. His thoughts were bittersweet. He was worried he had already experienced the most fruitful time of his life and would be bored and unhappy from now on.
In effect, he thought, I’ve bought my family another chance at life. We escaped the humiliating, degrading deaths we might have faced in German concentration camps. We helped those who were against the Nazis, both the Communists and the capitalists. We did precious little to rescue Roma who might have been saved from extermination. Yet by focusing on France, we helped pave the way for the Nazis’ ultimate defeat.
“Hey, Tobor, what are you thinking?” It was Nicu, smoking one cigarette and offering another lighted one to Tobor. Tobor accepted the cigarette, and the two men smoked side by side and looked out on the ocean.
“I was thinking how lucky we are. Look out on this majestic ocean.” His eyes glazed over as he stared across the waters, waves rolling on the surface with mighty force. “Who would believe the war is over? Who would believe that on the other side of this ocean are our families and our new lives?”
“I miss the action already. It feels odd not having to watch my back or shift position to avoid the enemy.”
“I know how you feel. I also know that for many years no one will be fighting in the way we witnessed it. It would be too much to hope for peace to last for more than a couple of decades.”
“Anastasia said we’d always be at war until world socialism conquers the globe.”
“That may be so, Nicu. But that war will not be like the one we just fought. It’ll be a psychological war, a war for souls.” He sounded thoughtful and he had a faraway look in his eyes.
“From what we experienced in Russia, I can envision places where Roma are not treated like the scum of the earth. It felt genuinely good to fight alongside the other outcasts of the planet against the so-called Master Race. What do you think ought to happen to a people that become as evil as the Nazis?” He was speaking with calm intensity, valiantly restraining his pent-up rage.
“Nicu, you don’t want to know what I think. The Nazis are all in other hands now. The justice and the cure will take decades, maybe a century. When all the Nazis are dead, others will rise up like a phoenix from its ashes. That’s what my grandmother told me about all haters of Roma. Anyway, I’d rather think about where we’re heading than where we came from. Agatha and Homer painted a pretty picture of life in America.”
“Too pretty a picture, perhaps. The lion sleeps with the lamb. Prejudices are nowhere. Everyone is considered an equal in all respects. Is it a fairy tale?” He sounded disheartened and disbelieving.
“We’ll soon see for ourselves. I suspect that humans are the same everywhere. I didn’t hate Germans until they became Nazis. I was born a German as well as Roma. I carry that hatred of Nazis with me now, and I hate and fear all other Germans too. I’d like to say where it ends, but I can’t put a boundary on it yet.”
He nodded, acknowledging the sentiment and the lack of a boundary. The imponderables weighed heavily on his mind.
“Pali and Pesha are looking forward to seeing their wives again. I think they’ll enjoy settling down for a good, long while in one place. I certainly would enjoy that.”
“You three deserve to get what you want after what you’ve been through. I’m sorry I couldn’t arrange for Simza to be with us on this trip. As I told you before, I could only strike a deal for six families. Walther had to stay to lead the other families. That meant Simza had to stay also.”
“One day, do you think we could get her out and have her join us in America?”
“Who can say for sure? We’ll know where to look for her if we want to give it a try.”
“Yes. Moldova, near Chişinău. Do you think she, Walther and the children will be safe?”
“I think so. Yes. As long as they abide by the laws and keep to our Roma traditions, they should be fine.” There was some hesitancy in his voice, but in the main he was confident.
The men spent more than an hour just smoking together, watching the waves and feeling the salty breeze as it swept over the freighter. The ship’s captain expected a calm passage because their route did not venture too far north.
Tobor remembered the captain said, “The North Atlantic could be tumultuous even in late summer. I shudder to think I passed through the German U-boats two dozen times without being attacked once. What are the odds?”
“That’s the question,” Tobor said aloud, “What are the odds?”
“What do you mean?” Nicu asked.
“What are the odds that we four survived numerous encounters with the enemy without a single scratch among us?”
“I’m not good with numbers, but I suspect the odds were fairly small. Millions of others did not survive. Among our fellow resistance fighters, most died.”
“Do you remember the night of Milosh and Jaelle’s wedding?” Tobor asked.
“That same night we left the caravan and headed east. How could I ever forget that? We walked right out of the cauldron just before it boiled over.”
“If we had hesitated even a few hours, we’d all have been lost. It’s true.”
“The chances we took along the way seem in retrospect so reckless. Yet we had to make tough decisions not knowing the outcomes. So much depended on our acting rather than sitting still and waiting.” Nicu was pensive, but his eyes sparkled when he thought of the merit of decisiveness in the face of danger. “The old, the sick and the infirm of Roma were not among us.” His voice wavered when he spoke.
“I’ve often considered that. In the Nazi view, those people were doubly expendable, being not only Roma but incapable of working hard all day.”
He shook his head, unable to understand the cruelty of the Nazis. “The Nazis’ search for our bloodlines: what do you make of that?”
“It’s a mystery to me. Possibly it was a mystery to the Nazis as well. They thought pure Roma to be pure Aryan and therefore perfect beings. Yet they labeled Roma asocial and criminal sociopaths. I must admit to being asocial. In fact, I also admit to being a criminal—to an extent. Isn’t it strange that I agree with the Nazis on those points?” Tobor was being ironical, but his tone was reflective, not self-accusatory.
“You don’t look asocial when you’re with Drina and your children.”
“Nicu, I don’t feel criminal about what I did to the Nazis. I haven’t had a single guilty thought about slitting a general’s throat ear to ear with my knife and watching him bleed out on his own oriental carpet.”
Nicu was disturbed by his friend’s line of thought. “Maybe it’s a matter of perspective?”
“Let’s be glad we don’t have the Nazi perspective.”
“I grant you that, Tobor. What do you think it means that your sister looked both Hitler and Stalin in the eyes and lived?”
“Nicu, it was miraculous even to have survived one of those meetings. She may be the only human who had the opportunity to understand what the whole war was about.”
Tobor raised his head to survey what lay before him. The ocean stretched off upward toward the horizon while the sky bent down to touch it at a point beyond the horizon.
“So the war was about good and evil, right?” Nicu sounded doubtful.
“She didn’t put it that way when we discussed it. You may recall that one Tarot card had everything to do with both meetings.”
“It was the religious card, The Hierophant. Some call it The Pope card.”
“That was the card, but she told me it was not specifically religious.” Tobor shook his head at the idea even now.
“So the pope is not religious? That’s got to be profound, but I don’t get it.”
Tobor accepted Nicu’s admission as a request for interpretation. Because they both had nothing better to do on this long passage, he decided to explore the card’s meaning as best he could. He was talking to himself as much as to his friend and relative.
“The Hierophant card is about religious authority, or maybe just plain authority. Nadya is deeply into the Tarot, and that card has many meanings. What impressed my sister was not so much the card as the two powerful men’s different reactions to it. In effect, it was the card that allowed her to survive the encounters.”
“Now you’ve totally lost me, Tobor. What do you mean?”
“Both men were anxious to know the meaning of the card. To get at the meaning, they needed to use my sister as the medium of understanding. That way, she was not a threat to them. Instead, she was the key to their understanding. Without her, they had nothing.”
The men watched the undulations of the sea. A seabird hovered above the wake.
“Weren’t there two keys on the card?” Nicu asked.
“Yes, the card featured two keys you could see, one golden and one silver. Then there was a hidden key made of iron.”
“I remember her talking about that one. Nadya said the iron one was the key to Hell.”
“That’s true. But I’ve come to see two more keys in the picture in addition to those three metal keys.”
Nicu scratched his head, confusion clearly painted on his face. “You’ve lost me. Will you please explain?”
“The Hierophant card has a number on it. Do you remember what the number was?”
“Yes. It was a five.” Nicu was glad he remembered and smiled faintly.
“That’s right. No one has thought much about that number according to my sister. In fact, Nadya didn’t have a satisfactory interpretation of it except for something called the pentagram or five-pointed star.”
“You must have another idea about the number, though I think the five-pointed star seems simple enough.”
Tobor paused and gathered his thoughts before he replied.
“The more I’ve dwelled on the number and the card, the more I think the three metallic keys are only part of the interpretation. The fourth key is the card itself, which unlocks authority or power.”
Tobor hesitated again so Nicu could digest what he had just said.
“And the fifth key?”
“Let me ask you a question first, Nicu. What makes the Tarot card intelligible at all? It doesn’t interpret itself.”
“The person who can interpret the card in context?”
“Yes, the medium. In this case, the Tarot reader is my sister Nadya.”
“Does that have something to do with why she survived her encounters with Hitler and Stalin?” Nicu was adrift in the stream of Tobor’s mystical thinking.
“I think so, but can’t prove it. Hitler couldn’t understand the three keys until Nadya unlocked the key of Hell for him, and he appeared in Hell. Stalin could not understand how to interpret the three keys until she unlocked the secret of the religious solution, which was the reinstatement of the Patriarch of the Orthodox Church. Because she was the means to both solutions, she was the invisible fifth key. Her invisibility saved her.”
“Yes. Can you go on?”
“The card itself is a key in its own right. It kept popping up in your sister’s readings like a bad pfennig. Without the card, there would have been no means of unlocking the mysteries that plagued both rulers.”
The two men stared off into the distance. Nicu stuck his tongue in the side of his mouth. Tobor shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He looked at his companion and smiled.
“You’ll be a card reader yet, Nicu. What else can you tell me about the card?”
“It has the number five on it.”
“Yes, and the number five is a V in Roman numerals, isn’t it?”
“So there must be a fifth key. The fifth key is the dealer and interpreter of the cards. You called that key the medium.”
“You have the outlines of the mystery now, I think.”
“I don’t know if I could ever understand the whole of it.”
“I don’t think I could either. My sister admits she can’t.”
“What else have you deduced from the card?”
“In France, I dreamed of the card on many nights when I couldn’t get to sleep. I thought crazy things.” He sounded sheepish, as though he was embarrassed to be admitting this.
“Such as?”
“Well, consider the V. If you put the gold and silver keys at the top of the V and the iron at the bottom, you have a model of salvation.”
“That’s a little lame.” He laughed anxiously and shook his head.
“Then consider this. Usually on the card are two fluted pillars and a central religious authority figure, sometimes construed as the pope. The pope has two fingers of his right hand raised and the others curled. It’s a symbol of benediction, but it’s also a sign of two visible fingers which are like the V and three folded fingers.”
“Like the two visible keys and three hidden keys?”
“Perhaps yes, and perhaps no.”
“Tobor, did you ever study to be a priest? Your love of mysticism suggests you should have done that.” Nicu looked over at him with an awed impression. It was clear that Tobor’s depth of thinking had affected him deeply.
“Nicu, consider what I am and what you’re asking. I’m definitely not morally good enough to be a priest. I’ve killed, stolen, lied, cheated and whatnot else. I’ve been disguised as a priest to evade detection. Probably nothing is spookier to me than using religion as a cover for misdeeds.”
“These have been tough times. You’ve always been good to my sister and her children.”
Tobor laughed out loud. “You catch my meaning, brother-in-law, don’t you? Your sister is the light of my life. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
Tobor and Nicu watched as waterspouts swirled up from the ocean’s surface so that finally five were dancing on top of the waves, reaching high into the clear blue sky.
The freighter anchored out near the port of Norfolk. An OSS man came out in a small launch to pay the captain, pick up the four Roma and take them to Portsmouth. Thereby the pier, a Mercedes awaited them. The OSS agent drove the four, with Tobor up front in the passenger seat. While he drove, he talked nonstop. He passed an envelope full of cash to Tobor and handed back three envelopes of cash, one for each of the Mettbach brothers. Just outside the farm where the gypsy caravan was situated back off the road in a copse of trees, the agent dropped off the four Roma before he drove away.
The camp was something like the German camp that Tobor knew on the late afternoon of Jaelle’s wedding. Children played in the green meadow. A herd of pure white goats traipsed harmlessly through the children, kids among the kids. Young couples walked hand in hand randomly. Near every wagon was a woman seated outside, sewing or knitting. Gnats rose and fell in the afternoon light. The fields were full of early autumn flowers, yellow composites mostly. Fires here and there sported barbecue spits upon which skewered goats roasted.
The men split up to find their spouses.
Tobor found Drina totally engrossed in her sewing. A small dog slept by her chair. Their three children played in the yard in front of her. They saw him and stopped what they were doing. Then as one they ran to greet him, shouting, “Daddy!”
Tobor opened his arms to enfold them all. He hugged and kissed them. The small dog barked and ran at Tobor to protect the children. Drina looked up to see what was happening. She stood and dropped her sewing on the ground. She ran towards Tobor, saying, “Is it you? It is you! Everyone, it’s Tobor! He’s here. Oh, Tobor.” He stood up and opened his arms. She flew into them, weeping for joy, and pressed herself against him.
After a moment, she came up for air. “No one told me you were coming today. I’m so happy you’re here. Are the others with you? Oh, my, you must be hungry.”
“It’s so good to see you, Drina.” He looked down at her in admiration and made her feel self-conscious. She pushed her hair back over her ears and looked up at his face, looking to see his reaction. He smiled and kissed her. As she kissed him back, he pulled her close. She melted into his arms.
“Yes, we’ve all come. Everyone is fine. For us, the war is finally over. Your brothers are seeking their wives among the wagons. Do you mind walking with the children and me for a while?”
“Not at all.”
“Take my hand. Children, let’s all join hands. Good. Let’s walk out to the woods.”
They walked as the sun set, absorbed in each other and making slow progress so the children could keep up.
“There’s so much to tell you.” Drina was red with excitement. Her eyes streamed with tears of joy.
“All in good time. Right now, I just want to be with you and the children. This place is like our caravan in Germany just before the trouble began.”
“It’s beautiful and so green it hurts my eyes. The people have been gracious about supporting us. My gosh, everyone made it out and across the ocean. All the children are fine. Let me catch my breath. I’m so excited I don’t know where to begin. Y’all won’t believe it.” She breathed deeply and held her hand to her bosom.
“’Y’all’? Is that what they say here? Relax. I’m going to be here with you for a long time.”
“I must look a fright.” She looked away sheepishly, speaking quietly as though ashamed.
“You look—perfect.” His loving gaze told her what she needed to know. Her heart skipped a beat.
In the distance, they heard the sound of a gypsy melody played on a violin. A woman began to sing. They heard the rising din of conversation. The camp was evidently becoming aware that the four heroes had finally come from France. Across the meadow came Nicu, Pali, Pesha, their wives and children in a swarm. Drina looked at Tobor excitedly.
“Go say hello to your brothers. I’ll watch the children.” He picked up the youngest and crouched to allow the others to come into his open arm.
Drina ran to greet her brothers, who hugged her one by one. They all walked to where Tobor was crouching by the edge of the meadow and spent a few moments being Roma together. They silently celebrated the miracle that their reunion had actually occurred. Tobor extended his hand, and Drina took it. Then as a group, they all meandered around the edge of the meadow together without speaking. Even the children were quiet, knowing that something special was happening. Drina’s dog yapped, so she picked it up and let it smell Tobor.
As the sun went down over the tree line, Tobor suggested that they walk back to the wagons.
“I’m getting hungry. Perhaps we could have some of that roast goat and some wine.”
The feast began when they reached the wagons. The two Yoska’s built a bonfire. The women brought out the homemade wine and made sure all the adults had a full glass. Slowly the host gypsies arrived to meet and greet the heroes. They brought bread and pies. One played an accordion to accompany the violinist. Kizzy danced. Nadya sang a gypsy lullaby.
It was not long before it was time for the children’s bedtime. After the children were settled in their beds, the adults sat around the bonfire watching the flames while sparks shot up into the dark night. Tobor and Drina, their arms around each other, gazed into the other’s eyes and then into the fire.
She pressed his chest with her palm. “I just want to feel you. You really have come home. You’re really real!” She breathed deeply and nuzzled him with her nose. He tucked his fingers under her chin and raised her head so he could kiss her. When he had done that, he smiled and gazed at her for a long time in the firelight.
“Yes, Drina, I’m real. I really have come home—for you.”