––––––––
Poland, I was vaguely aware, lay far to the north of the Transylvanian Alps, perhaps even beyond the distant Carpathians. Such a tramontane journey at this time of year would have been arduous in the best of circumstances, let alone the dire condition we now found ourselves in.
I could only guess how much time passed as the early stoicism of my unseen fellow travellers gave way to pitiful moans of suffering as lack of air and water took its toll. Eventually, the noise seemed to subside as exhaustion overcame those around us.
Too dark to make out any form and unable to move other than my arms, which held Nicolae high, supported by the unwilling bodies on all sides, I could only imagine the cruel reality of the scene unfolding.
Through the inadequate air vents in the roof of the wagon, towards which all who could do so stretched their bodies to gain some small advantage, the light of day or night could just be determined and I counted four days and nights passed during which we remained crammed together in this dire condition. Stale air and sweat mingled inevitably with the stench of urine and excreta as the journey continued. Unable to move in any way there was of course no possibility of relief other than where we stood, and if at first thankful for the darkness, discomfort soon overcame any feeling of embarrassment or shame, for everyone there, adult and child alike, were similarly obliged.
My throat was parched, my tongue tumescent, and I knew Nicolae must be suffering similarly, although I could not see him, and dared not move my hands to comfort him for fear he slip between the crammed bodies to a certain death. He had made no sound all this while and I supposed he must be in shock. His torso still convulsed, but less violently than before, and his breathing had eased. Desperate as I was to hear him speak, at the same time I hoped he would not awaken from his trance too soon, to find himself in this fearful plight.
Around me the incessant low whine of suffering would be broken by louder outbursts as women and children cried out, though in pain or defiance I could not tell, for they spoke languages I could not identify and I soon came to ignore them as best I could. Not once did I hear a word uttered in my native Romanian.
Infrequently the train stopped, for fuel and water, perhaps even at stations to take on still more people. It was impossible to tell, for little was audible beyond the dull moans of those around me. Each stop was a moment of mixed emotions, first praying this would be the journey’s end that we would be liberated from the obscene incarceration, then fear and despair as we began to move again. For a horrific pattern was emerging which was perhaps ultimately responsible for the survival of Nicolae and myself, though the cost to others was dear.
As the locomotive took the strain of its procession after each stop, with cold indifference to the suffering it drew in its wake, the train would lurch forward each time, throwing off balance the mass of bodies inside the wagons. In the dark I slowly came to realise that each time some among us fell or collapsed to the floor. Such were the screams of agony that haunted the darkness at these times, and our memories constantly since, I knew those who fell met a certain, slow death being crushed or suffocated.
Fear now kept me from even considering sleep and I waited anxiously for each stop, steadying myself with Nicolae in my arms in anticipation of the next jolt of the wagon as the journey recommenced. It was this realisation and preparation, I am sure, that served to keep us both alive.
Many were the occasions an unseen body fell near my feet and desperate hands clutched at my legs, trying to raise themselves from the tangle of bodies below. My reaction was, at best, one of calculated inaction, once even shaking off clutching fingers so small they could only have been a child’s, for the survival of Nicolae and myself was by now my only thought, heedless of the fate of those around me. In this I was perhaps aided by my indifference to their tongue, for had I understood their pleading as they slipped away, I doubt I could have maintained my cruel isolation so easily.
Even so, I knew I could not continue much longer, for Nicolae grew heavier as I grew weaker and, as the bodies around me fell or were dragged down so I was less able to use others as support.
Often I wondered if it would not be better to concede defeat and allow ourselves to sink down into the mire of death at our feet, to end our suffering.
Had I been alone I might have taken this option, for I feared such an end would shortly become us regardless, but I knew I could not make that decision for Nicolae. His survival was paramount, for I had promised Papa I would look after him, and at this time my little brother was completely dependent on my own tenacious grasp of life.