Once We Were Brothers (15 page)

“‘Where would I go?’ Otto said. ‘This is my home.’ He was on the verge of tears.

“Father put his hands on Otto’s shoulders. ‘I don’t know. They’ll find a place for you. They’re confiscating buildings and houses all over town.’

“‘How can I do that? How can I displace a Zamość family?’

“‘Someone is going to take that appointment, Otto. If you turn it down, they’ll appoint someone else. I’d rather have you choosing a work detail than some sadist from Germany. You can do us a lot of good on the inside. Take the appointment, and do what you can to help our people until the war is over. Sooner or later, England and France will come to our aid.’

“So that’s how we left it, Catherine. Otto agreed to take the posting and he informed Ilse the next night. Until they found a home for him, they moved him into the Maria Hotel, just off the square. He had an office in the town hall.”

Chapter Nineteen

A chilly rain beat against the conference room window and fog obscured the view of the federal plaza. Ben’s umbrella lay open in the corner. His dripping jacket hung from the coat rack and he sat hunched forward sipping hot tea to take away the goose bumps as he commenced another day’s narrative.

Zamość, Poland 1940

“After Otto moved out, it became kind of tricky for us to meet,” he said. “I couldn’t visit him at his office or at the Maria – no Jews were allowed in the hotel. If you ended up at the town hall, more than likely it was because you were taken there in the custody of the Gestapo. Otto and I arranged to meet regularly at Belvederski Park, around the corner from our house, and sometimes he’d bring us food.”

“Food?” said Catherine.

“Jews were issued ration cards stamped with a ‘J’ and over the months the rationing became severe. We were denied access to many of the shops. One by one, signs were posted in the shop windows telling us that they wouldn’t sell to Jews. Otto helped us out from time to time.

“Not long after the occupation, the Nazis imposed a curfew requiring us to be off the streets by eight p.m., so Otto and I arranged to meet twice a week, early in the morning. It was essential to keep our meeting place near the house. Not only did they take our cars, but they restricted our use of the bus. It was Hitler’s plan to compress the Jewish communities into small areas and cut them off from the rest of the population. We had no right to use the public telephones and soon we lost our home phone as well. Little by little we lost all communication with the outside world.

“After they took his car, my father had to figure out how to visit Grandpa Yaakov on Sundays. The only bus he was allowed to take would drop him at the end of the line, at the very outskirts of Zamość, and he walked an additional six kilometers to the farm. The curfew restrictions made it impossible for him to visit and return the same day.”

Ben took a deep breath, leaned back in his chair and once again appeared to lapse into a zone. He nodded to the voices in his head and stared at the light fixture.

“It’s now a bright clear morning and Otto meets Beka and me at the park. I can tell that he’s upset. ‘There’ll be an order in two days,’ he says. ‘They’re making plans to confiscate all your valuables. Every Jewish family will be ordered to turn over their money, jewelry, valuables and radios at the town hall. They’re going to send everything on to Berlin.’

“‘This will devastate Mother,’ Beka says. ‘What can we do?’

“‘I have a plan,’ he says. ‘It’s common knowledge among the German staff that I’m dating Elzbieta, so no one will think twice if I drive off into the country with my girlfriend. Tell Uncle Abraham to gather some of your most precious things, like jewelry and gold, like Aunt Leah’s diamond bracelet, and give them to me. I’ll take them out to Grandpa Yaakov’s and hide them. Select only the very most valuable, because if you don’t turn in enough property at the town hall, they’ll know you’re cheating and they’ll tear your place apart.’

“‘Do you want me to go with you?’ I say. ‘I’ll help you hide the stuff.’

“Otto shakes his head. ‘If they found us together with a bag of jewelry, they’d shoot us both. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. I’ll put everything in the treasure chest.’”

“Treasure chest?” Catherine said.

Ben nodded. “An old wooden box we kept buried in a hole in the corner of Grandpa Yaakov’s barn. Years before, when we were young, Otto and I hid our secret stuff in the box and buried it in the last horse stall, beneath the floor boards. I know what he’s talking about.

“So I arrange to meet him that evening before the eight o’clock curfew. Beka and I carry two pillowcases of valuables to the park and hide them in the bushes. And it’s a good thing we do, because two German SS guards walk by and yell at us to get off the streets. We duck into an alleyway and when we see Otto’s car we run out and give him the pillowcases.”

Catherine perked up. “Exactly what was in the pillowcases?” She wrote
List Of Stolen Property
on her note pad.

“My mother’s jewelry, my great-grandmother’s tea service, my father’s silver menorah and 60,000 zlotys – it was equivalent to about fifteen thousand American dollars in 1940. I don’t know how much that would be today, a pretty handsome sum, I expect. It was practically all the cash my father had.”

“I need you to be specific. Everything you can remember putting into those pillowcases, described in as much detail as you can recall. We’ll need to have an expert give an estimated appraisal.”

“My mother had a diamond brooch; it was surrounded by silver filigree. She had drop earrings with diamonds, a strand of cultured pearls, a beautiful cameo on a gold chain, and…I’ll try to remember the rest. I’ll work on it at home.”

Ben took a sip of tea and continued. “Before he pulls away, Otto says, ‘Tell Hannah to get her parents’ valuables and give them to you. Meet me here tomorrow night and I’ll hide their stuff, too.’

“Beka and I visit the Weissbaums the next morning and tell them about Otto’s plan. They haven’t heard about the confiscation order and they’re skeptical, but they trust my father and if he thinks it’s a good idea, they’ll go along with it. They pack a pillowcase with jewelry and money and give it to us.”

“Do you know what was in the Weissbaum’s pillowcase?” Catherine said.

“I know Mrs. Weissbaum put her wedding and engagement rings in there. Hannah may have told me about other things but I can’t remember right now.”

“I want you to search your memory. Especially for the property that belonged to your family.”

“I’ll ask Hannah. She’ll help me to remember.”

Catherine winced at the response and then asked, “Do you think that Otto ever took the property to Yaakov’s farm?”

“Oh, I know he did. I saw it there some time later.”

“Did the Nazis order everyone to turn in their valuables as Otto had predicted?”

Ben nodded slowly. “Not everyone, just the Jews.” He settled back into his unfocused gaze. “The very next day sound trucks drive through our neighborhood screaming at us and ordering us to report immediately to the town hall with our valuables.

“We stand in line for hours, waiting to hand our property over to German soldiers sitting behind long tables. It’s just as Uncle Joseph had described. The same as it was in Vienna. Guards walk up and down the lines, shouting insults, slapping at people with nightsticks or jabbing them with their rifles. My father, as a respected member of the Judenrat, is afforded a modicum of dignity: he isn’t called a dog or a swine – that’s a favorite word for them,
Saujude
, Jewish swine.

“Dr. Frank is there overseeing the whole process. He walks back and forth behind the tables, slapping a horse crop against his pantaloon. When it’s our turn, he comes over to the table. ‘May I see the Solomon property, please,’ he says. I am frightened. I’m sure he’ll remember everything he saw in our house and he’ll know we’ve withheld valuables. He’ll say, ‘Where’s that antique tea service?’ I think about what I’ll do if my family is attacked. How will I act? Will I be brave? I’m worried for my mother and Beka.

“Dr. Frank sifts through our belongings, moves them around on the table to examine them and purses his lips, just as he did in our home. Then he looks at Beka, smiles and says, ‘Rebecca, seventeen,’ and walks on.

“Mother, like many other Zamość women, leaves the town hall weeping, asking what right the Germans have to take her belongings. They are her special treasures. They’re not weapons, we’re not combatants and there is no threatened insurrection. The Germans say that we are paying for the war effort.

“‘They’re twentieth century Huns,’ Father says, ‘pillaging and raping our village. And like the Huns, they’ll be defeated.’ He tries to comfort Mother by saying that England and France will make them give back our property when Germany is overthrown, but we’ve heard the news reports: no armies have been sent to help us and there is nothing going on but a war of words. England’s Prime Minister Chamberlain is pounding his fist in Parliament, French Premier Daladier is laying down ultimatums about “real peace”, and Hitler is assuring the world that he has no interest in the West. I think historians now agree that the Allies missed a golden opportunity in not attacking immediately.

“In any event, on the way home from the town hall, I hear a girl’s voice call out, ‘Hey, Fred Astaire.’ I turn around to see Elzbieta coming up to meet us, cute as a button with her bouncy gait. We walk together for a while, but not for too long, because it isn’t a good idea for Elzbieta to be seen in the company of Jews. I ask her about Otto and how they’re doing.

“‘I guess it’s all right,’ she says, ‘but things aren’t the same. He’s a little full of himself these days, hanging around with the snooty Germans, dining in restaurants, drinking fine wines, always in a smartly pressed uniform. I liked the old days when the four of us went to the movies.’

“I agree with her.”

“Wasn’t Otto helping you out?” Catherine said. “Didn’t he just hide your property?”

“That’s true, but I also knew he was starting to enjoy his privileged status. Elzbieta also warned me that he had been appointed to Dr. Frank’s staff but I already knew that. He’d sent me on an assignment.”

“Really? When?”

“It was in early 1940. Otto and Hans Frank stood side-by-side in the square along with a businessman from Düsseldorf who wore a long wool coat with a fur collar. They selected four of us to travel with them to inspect and survey some property west of Krakow.

“We sat on benches in the back of a truck and followed Dr. Frank’s car to where the Vistula and Sola rivers joined. The property was swampy farmland just outside of Osweicim near the railroad tracks. We were ordered to make notes about the terrain, especially the part that was wooded.”

“Osweicim? Was this to be the Auschwitz concentration camp?”

“It was, although we weren’t told anything about the reasons for our trip. Frank and the other guy, I think his name was Glucks, walked off and wouldn’t speak in our presence.

“Anyway, right after we leave Elzbieta and turn the corner onto Belvederski Street, we see Hannah running towards us. She’s hysterical.

“‘Ben, we have to find Otto. They’ve taken my mother!’

“‘Who took her?’

“‘The Gestapo. Dr. Frank. He looked at our property when we set it on the table. “You must have forgotten your wedding band and your engagement ring,” he said to my mother with a wicked smile. Then he grabbed my mother’s hand, slammed it on the table and looked at her ring finger. Of course, there was a mark where the rings had been. Mother was flustered. She said she’d lost them. “Oh, I’m sure you did,” said Dr. Frank, ever so politely. “But don’t worry, we’ll help you find them.” Then he ordered two guards to take us home to find the rings. We couldn’t give them the rings because we’d already given them to Otto. The soldiers tore up our house.’

“‘Where is your father?’ I ask her. ‘Where did they take your mother?’

“It’s hard for Hannah to answer. She’s crying convulsively. ‘After they finished searching, they knocked my dad to the floor and took my mother away. She was screaming, Ben. I don’t know where she is. Help me, Ben. We have to find Otto.’

“We run all the way back to the town hall, but there are still lines of people standing with their suitcases. There’s no way to get into the building. We aren’t allowed to enter the Maria and we doubt Otto would be there anyway. We decide to find Elzbieta and ask her to help us. She lives in an apartment building near the center of town. Since there are no Jews allowed in the building, we enter through the rear door and go up the back stairs. Elzbieta isn’t home.

“We can’t wait in front of the building, we’d be arrested for loitering, so we walk around and around the block hoping that no one notices us. Finally, in the early evening, we see Elzbieta walking down the street with a grocery bag. As soon as she sees us she knows something is wrong.

“‘We need to find Otto right away,’ I say after filling her in about Miriam Weissbaum. ‘Can you tell him to meet us at the park tonight?’

“‘Curfew’s in twenty minutes. I don’t know if I can find him that fast.’

“‘Don’t worry about the curfew. I’ll be in the alleyway across from the park. No matter what time it is, I’ll be there. Find him for us, Elzie.’ Hannah leaves to care for her father and I make my way to the park.