| |
Tel Aviv, September 30, 1942
My Dearest Brother,
If you are reading this, then I should celebrate victory. You are alive, and you are safe in Tel Aviv. For this, I should be—indeed, I will be—jubilant, for you are my only remaining family. I love and cherish you more than I’ve ever been able to express, certainly more than I’ve ever shown—especially in the worst of my moments, which you undoubtedly recall even better than I do. For these I will apologize and, hopefully, somehow make amends.
You reading this letter is a victory, yet the pretense under which I brought you here, and the truth which I must now reveal, must make this victory hollow. Please know that all I did, I did for love of you. Perhaps this will comfort, but I understand that it is more likely to enrage.
You were a sharp-witted boy, and I gather you have grown into an even smarter man. Thus, I will now simply rip the bandage off the wound to reveal the festering truth that you probably already know: Danuta is dead. The bulk of the letters you carry with you were written by me.
I am sincerely sorry for this loss, Samuel. In my correspondence with Danuta, I was able to form the impression of her charm, her strength of character, and her devotion to you. In my selfishness, I could only wish for myself a love that could compel me to make such a journey as yours, or a lover willing to undertake such a journey as Danuta attempted. I have known loss, Samuel, but I realize that I have not known—nor will I likely ever know—loss of this depth.
Here are the facts I know: After learning of her capture aboard the Vatan, from the father and son with whom she’d been traveling, I received a short postcard in April of 1941 from Danuta, postmarked Ravensbruck Concentration Camp in Germany. Thereafter, I heard nothing directly from her. All my inquiries—and please believe me that I made many, many inquires through the Red Cross, through my connections in the Zionist leadership, and through any possible avenue that presented itself—came to nothing. I even volunteered to travel to Europe as an emissary to the Zionist movements there, but was rejected owing to... certain personal reasons, by the Zionist leadership.
Finally, early this year I met a woman in Haifa who had been released from Ravensbruck the previous winter. She provided convincing evidence that she had known Danuta under her Hebrew name Lea Rachel Cohen. Danuta had revealed her true name and origins to this woman, you see, making her identity ironclad. She also confirmed Danuta’s death, although she refused to elaborate on the circumstances, despite my strident requests. She had seen Danuta die with her own eyes, she claimed, and there is no reason to suspect deception.
Again, although I cringe at the hollowness of these words, I am truly sorry for your loss.
Once they captured Danuta, and being the impetus for her travels, I realized I must act. I realized that surviving the many trials you were likely to endure on your way here, Samuel, would require motivation far greater than any I, your estranged brother, could provide. I believed, and in time, I believe that you will concur, that Danuta—even in death—could provide you with the strength to overcome these trials. The fact that you are reading this vindicates my ends, if not my means.
I will not presume that you want anything further from me, Samuel. I do not know if I will return from Egypt, nor whether you will choose to maintain contact with me if I do. I doubt you’ll appreciate what drove me to such lengths of duplicity, nor should you. I was your older brother, and I cruelly betrayed your trust more than once over the years. I am still your older brother, and I have again betrayed your trust, if this time for a more noble purpose.
You may have the full use of my flat until you decide what you’d like to do. Should something happen to me, I have prepared a will leaving ownership of all my property to you. In the interim, I left a sum of money with the neighbor who let you in, which should be more than sufficient to get you started if you decide to leave, or provide for your needs if you stay. And I fervently hope—please believe me—that you will choose the latter.
Samuel, please know one thing: if fate should bring us together again, and you choose to give me the chance, I will work tirelessly to repair these bridges that I’ve destroyed. I will see you for what you are, not for what you symbolize. I will not ask for, nor expect, anything in return.
Please accept again my most sincere condolences and humblest apologies.
Your loving brother,
Aron
