I Have Lived a Thousand Years (23 page)

I think of my poems often. Sometimes I long to see them again, to read them again. Is Pista Szivos, the young Hungarian guard from the ghetto, still keeping my notebook and awaiting my return as he had vowed? His little village in Hungary is not very far from here. It’s not more than sixty kilometers from the other side of the river. At times I dream of crossing my beloved Danube by boat, and retrieving the notebook that holds the secrets of my innermost self. But I have no right to such self-indulgence. My friends, my family, all those achingly dear to me, my entire world, rose up in smoke, vanished. How dare I retain such passion for my possession? Such urge for self-gratification? How dare I violate the agony of Auschwitz?

Now Mommy knows the secret of my notebook, and she reassures me, “You’ll see. One day the young Hungarian soldier will appear on our doorstep and return your poems.” But I resolved to relinquish my poems. And I resolved not to think about finding Pista Szivos in his small Hungarian village across the Danube. Neither did Pista Szivos ever try to find
me.
I wonder: Has he returned from the war? Or has he also become one of its casualties?

My relationship with Mommy has undergone a transformation. The unavoidable reversal of our roles in the camps after her accident changed Mommy’s attitude toward me. Although once again she became the strong, no-nonsense yet sympathetic, guiding hand, there is a striking difference. She treats me with respect, and frequently lavishes excessive praise on me. I am happy yet uncomfortable with Mommy’s lavish praise.

Just now I desperately need Mommy’s understanding and respect. Yesterday, when one of the boys told me of secret transports to Palestine, I was gripped by an overwhelming desire to join them. Suddenly I knew with unmistakable clarity that I did not want to go to America.

How can I tell Mommy, and my brother, that I do not want to go to America? The two people I love so, how can I tell them that my choice lies elsewhere? How can I tell them that since yesterday I have lost my yearning for America?

Mommy has just sat down at the kitchen table to write a letter to our uncle in America, and I know this is my chance to break my silence.

“Mommy, I must speak to you.”

Mother raises her head but her mind still lingers on the letter’s opening sentence. “You wanted to say something?”

“Not just say something, Mommy. I must speak to you.”

“Now? Right now? I’ve just started this letter.”

“Yes.”

She puts down the pen, and I look straight into her eyes. “Mommy, I’m not going to America.”

Mother’s eyes widen, and her mouth opens a little. “I want to go to Palestine.”

“Palestine . . . ? Why Palestine?”

“Palestine, Eretz Yisrael, is part of us. That’s where we belong. Mommy, can’t you see? Can’t you?”

Mother forgets to close her mouth. Her eyes grow bluer than ever. I search them for hurt or anger but there is neither. There is only bafflement.

“Mommy, Eretz Yisrael is our only home. New York will not be home. We can make it in New York but it will never be home. Never. We will be foreigners forever. ...”

Mother looks at me as if she sees me for the first time. She picks up the sheet of paper and lets it slide through the narrow slit of the slightly open table drawer. “Let’s have some potato soup.”

She rises to her feet and puts the pot on the stove. I place a few sticks of kindling wood in the stove and light a crumpled piece of newspaper under the wood. The crackling sound of fire mingles with the scraping of the spoon as Mother stirs the soup. Silently she ladles the steaming liquid into two white, enamel bowls.

The warm soup stills my anguish. Neither of us speaks but we know a truce has been reached. We also know that the terms are open to negotiation. Except one, a basic, non-negotiable principle: The three of us shall never be separated again. And so, we would wait for Bubi’s return for the weekend and the three of us decide together. It is one future for the three of us.

When Bubi comes home for the weekend, the three of us talk. And talk. I present my case with renewed passion. Sober voices prevail. Practical voices prevail. The majority wins. And by the end of the weekend the decision to go to America is final.

America, will you be my home?

T
HE
S
TATUE OF
L
IBERTY

NEW YORK, APRIL 7, 1951

At dawn on April 7, 1951, Mother and I stand on the deck of the
General Stewart
as it approaches New York harbor. On the horizon the hazy outline of a statue precipitates out of the fog.

“Look, Mommy, it’s the Statue of Liberty!”

I grip Mother’s arm and point, wild with excitement. “There. There! Can you see it, Mommy?”

“I can. Very well,” Mother says, and her voice falters. She points in the direction of the statue as it continues to emerge from the morning mist. “There it is ...“

I swallow hard. A cheer rings out from the other refugees along the rails.

“Can someone sing the American anthem?” I cry out. “Who knows the American anthem?”

No one seems to know the anthem of our new homeland. The words of the Israeli anthem reverberate in my mind, and I begin to sing, in Hebrew: “
Od lo avda tikvatenu . . .
Our hope is not lost, To be a free nation in our land, The land of Zion and Jerusalem.”

Several men whip off their caps and begin to sing. Women and children join in. Different anthems. In different languages. A cacophony of voices ripple the foggy dawn.

My heart is brimming. I look around. The deck of the refugee boat is full now. A mass of faces, full of awe and anticipation, focused on the Statue of Liberty as the boat chugs past it. The grande dame of our dreams now rises resplendent against the first rays of the sun.

Mother turns to me and says, “Let’s go, Elli, and gather our things. We shouldn’t be among the last ones to step ashore.”

I nod. “Let’s be among the first.”

APPENDIX A

Our Family During the Holocaust: Chronicle of Events

S
EPTEMBER
1938 Hungarian troops occupy Šamorin, my hometown in Czechoslovakia, and rename it Somorja

N
OVEMBER
1938 Hungarian authorities order our business closed

MAY
1940 Hungarian authorities confiscate the merchandise from our business

A
UGUST
1943 My brother leaves home to attend the Jewish Teachers’ Seminary in Budapest

O
CTOBER
1943-May 1944 The Hungarian military police stage “raids” on our home. My father is arrested and subjected to torture called “interrogation”

M
ARCH
19, 1944 German troops invade Budapest, the capital of Hungary. The rest of the country is unaware of this development. My brother comes home but my parents advise him to return to Budapest

M
ARCH
21, 1944 The country is agog with the news of the German invasion. Jews are arrested on the streets of Budapest and put on trains to concentration camps in Germany. My brother reaches home for the second time

M
ARCH
25, 1944 All schools are closed. Our homeroom teacher dismisses us without explanation

M
ARCH
27, 1944 The Jewish residents are ordered to deliver all jewelry, radios, and vehicles to the Hungarian authorities. I have to part with my brand new bike. My father takes me down to the cellar and points out the spot where he has buried our jewelry

M
ARCH
28, 1944 The Jewish residents are ordered to wear a yellow star and paint a yellow star on their homes

A
PRIL
3, 1944 Report cards are distributed in the schools. I receive the class honor scroll

A
PRIL
5, 1944 Jews are forbidden to communicate with their Gentile neighbors

A
PRIL
18, 1944 The Jews of Somorja are deported to a ghetto in Nagymagyar

M
AY
14, 1944 My father is taken away to a Hungarian Forced Labor Camp

M
AY
17, 1944 All books, documents, holy scrolls are burned. I save the notebook with my poems

M
AY
18, 1944 Beards are shaved off

M
AY
21, 1944 Ghetto Nagymagyar is liquidated. We are taken to Ghetto Dunaszerdahely. I give the notebook with
my poems to a young Hungarian soldier for safekeeping

M
AY
27, 1944 Ghetto Dunaszerdahely is liquidated. We are put in cattle cars

M
AY
31, 1944 We arrive in Auschwitz. I am separated from my brother and my Aunt Serena. Aunt Serena is killed in the gas chamber

J
UNE
10, 1944 We are taken to Camp Plaszow

A
UGUST
5, 1944 Camp Plaszow is evacuated. We are put on trains to Auschwitz

A
UGUST
8, 1944 We arrive in Auschwitz. A number is tattooed on our left arms. My mother is injured, and becomes an invalid

A
UGUST
9, 1944 My mother is taken to the infirmary

A
UGUST
30, 1944 With the help of friends I smuggle my mother out of the infirmary

S
EPTEMBER
1, 1944 We stand for selection. I am put in the transport for the gas chamber. I escape and join my mother on the transport for Augsburg

S
EPTEMBER
3, 1944 Mother and I arrive in Augsburg in a transport of five hundred women

A
PRIL
3-4, 1945 We are taken to Mühldorf, then Mother
and I are transferred to Waldlager. In Waldlager we meet my brother across the barbwire fence

A
PRIL
24, 1945 Mühldorf/Waldlager is evacuated. We are put on trains

A
PRIL
27, 1945 We are mistakenly released from the prison cars, then recaptured. Mother and I meet my brother among the train tracks. We are driven back into the train. The three of us remain together

A
PRIL
28, 1945 The train of prisoners is attacked by the U.S. Air Force near Poking

A
PRIL
30, 1945 We are liberated from the trains by the U.S. Army at the Seeshaupt train station in Bavaria

M
AY
7, 1945 Germany surrenders. Church bells ring

M
ID
-M
AY
, 1945 We are taken to
Flack Kaserne,
a transit camp near Munich

M
ID
-J
UNE
, 1945 We arrive back in Somorja, now called Šamorin, my hometown in Czechoslovakia

J
ULY
1945 We receive news of my father’s death

S
EPTEMBER
1945 I am back at school. My mother, brother, and I make preparations to emigrate to the U.S.A.

APPENDIX B

Highlights of Holocaust Chronology

J
ANUARY
30, 1933 Adolf Hitler is appointed Chancellor of Germany

S
EPTEMBER
15, 1935 Citizenship and racial laws are announced at Nazi party rally in Nüremberg

M
ARCH
13, 1938 Austria is annexed by Germany

N
OVEMBER
9–10, 1938
Kristallnacht:
Nazis burn synagogues and loot Jewish homes and businesses in nationwide pogroms called “Kristallnacht” (“Night or Broken Glass”). Nearly 30,000 German and Austrian Jewish men are deported to concentration camps. Many Jewish women are jailed

M
ARCH
15, 1939 German troops invade Czechoslovakia

S
EPTEMBER
1, 1939 Germany invades Poland. World War II begins

J
UNE
22, 1941 German army invades the Soviet Union. The
Einsatzgruppen,
mobile killing squads, begin mass murder of Jews, Gypsies, and Communist leaders

D
ECEMBER
7, 1941 Japan attacks Pearl Harbor

D
ECEMBER
11, 1941 Germany declares war on the United States

J
ANUARY
20, 1942 Wannsee Conference: Nazi government leaders meet at Wannsee near Berlin to discuss the plan for the mass murder of Jews, called “the final solution to the Jewish Question”

1942 Nazi “extermination” camps located in occupied Poland at Auschwitz-Birkenau, Treblinka, Belzec, and Majdanek-Lublin begin mass murder of Jews in gas chambers

A
PRIL
19-May 16, 1943 Jews in the Warsaw ghetto stage an uprising

M
ARCH
19, 1944 German troops occupy Hungary

M
AY
15—JULY 9, 1944 Over 430,000 Hungarian Jews are deported to Auschwitz-Birkenau where most of them are killed in gas chambers

J
UNE
6, 1944 D-Day: Allied powers invade western Europe

J
ULY
20, 1944 German officers fail in their attempt to assassinate Hitler

J
ANUARY
17, 1945 Death march: Nazis evacuate Auschwitz and drive prisoners on foot toward Germany. Large numbers die en route

J
ANUARY
27, 1945 Soviet troops enter Auschwitz

A
PRIL
15, 1945 British troops liberate Bergen-Belsen, and U.S. troops liberate Dachau, Buchenwald, Mauthausen, and other concentration camps

A
PRIL
30, 1945 Hitler commits suicide

M
AY
7, 1945 Germany surrenders. The war ends in Europe

N
OVEMBER
1945-October 1946 War crimes trials are held at Nüremberg, Germany

GLOSSARY OF TERMS

Appellplatz
—ah-PELL-plahtz—central square of camp (literally, place of roll call)—G
ERMAN

Auschwitz
—OWSH-vits—concentration camp located in what is now Os’wieçim, Poland

Blockälteste
—BLOCK-ell-tess-teh—head of barracks (literally, block elder)—G
ERMAN

Dunajska Streda
—DU-nice-kah STREH-dah—town in Slovakia