Most of the time Irena managed to push what was happening in Poland from her mind, but too often she was confronted with terrifying and heart-breaking reminders. Almost every day men and women were rounded up at gunpoint and made to stand with their hands against a wall while the soldiers searched them. Some were released, others shot. Nobody knew what they’d done – if they’d done anything – and nobody intervened. But as soon as the soldiers had left, people would hurry to remove the bodies, leaving lit candles in their place.
When she wasn’t sleeping or queuing for food, she was at the hospital, studying or attending lectures. The only light in the endlessly grey, terrifying days was that the university had started underground teaching. She never discovered until the day before, where and what time the classes would be held and it was often changed at the last moment.
Today, she’d come back from one such lecture to find a letter waiting for her. With no fuel to heat her apartment, it was as cold inside as it was outside. She wrapped herself in a blanket and sank into a chair, tucking her legs underneath her.
She didn’t recognise the handwriting on the envelope but when she opened it, a note and two more envelopes, one addressed to her and one to Aleksy, were folded in half inside. This time she did recognise the handwriting. It was Magdalena’s.
Magdalena was alive. Thank God. She tore open the envelope and started to read.
My dear friend,
I am not sure whether this will ever reach you or my darling Aleksander. A nurse here has offered to post them and I pray that she will do as she promises.
I don’t even know if either of you are alive but I have to believe that you are. If you have been to our old home you will have learned that Mama and I were forced to leave it. Mama wanted to go east as she was certain that we would find Tata there. Instead, we were taken by the Russians and put behind barbed wire. My dear, I will save you the particulars, except to say that I do not expect to survive. Sadly, Mama has already passed away. She was forced to sell her coat and shoes for food and as you know she wasn’t strong. I do not think it will be long before I join her. I am so cold, so hungry, I can’t bear to stay alive.
If you find Aleksy, please give him the letter I enclose with this one. My only regret is that I could not see you both, even one more time.
May God bless and protect you, my sister.
Your loving friend,
Madzia
Irena’s fingers were shaking as she opened the note. She cried out as she read the words.
I am sorry to have to tell you that your friend passed away shortly after writing these letters. She seemed peaceful at the end. I told her I would try to get them to you and I have done my best.
The letter wasn’t signed.
She cried for a long time. She cried until she could cry no longer. It was too much. Magdalena was dead and in all likelihood Aleksy and Piotr were too. Her father was in prison and might never be released. She’d survived being fired upon, she’d survived the bombing of Warsaw, she’d done her best to be strong, but this was too much.
This bloody, bloody war. Damn the Russians. Damn the Germans.