Once We Were Brothers (29 page)

“Finally at 9 p.m., long after the time we would have been sitting down to our Passover Seder, Otto and Schubert walked through the crowd, pointing at groups and families, instructing them to march directly to the railroad ramps and board the box cars for deportation. We didn’t know the destination but there were announcements that people were to be resettled at a new work camp. Three thousand people were put onto the train that night, packed over a hundred to a car.

“During the selection process, Otto walked up to our family, looked us over for a moment, said nothing and passed us by. At 11 p.m. those who were not selected were dismissed to go home.

“The next day was burial day. Over two hundred bodies had been left on the streets, in the buildings, on the sidewalk and in the clinic. If anyone ever harbored a doubt as to who these Nazis were, or what was in store for us, it was all brought home that day. Mournful cries were heard throughout the night. I saw the resistance as our only way to fight back.

“That evening I ducked out of town and made my way to the mill house joining up with thirty others, mostly young, some Jewish but many Catholic, some from Zamość but many from surrounding villages, and all dedicated to Polish freedom. The leader, an older man known as Irek, was detailing the mission on a map nailed to the wall. A drawing of the arms depot near Wojda was also tacked on the wall. It was reported to be lightly guarded.

“There was a fierce debate over the raid, some claiming it would cause serious reprisals from the Germans. Irek countered that all Poland was condemned anyway, and why would death by reprisals be any different than death by extermination? The majority was firmly behind Irek and was intent on doing whatever it could to disrupt the German occupation.

“The conversation then turned to Zamość and the mass deportation. I told them about the selection and what I’d seen the day before. ‘The Germans told us the people were being transported to a new work camp,’ I said. ‘I believe it to be Izbica.’

“‘There has been some construction at Izbica – it’s a transit camp and some barracks have been built,’ answered Irek, ‘but the Zamość transport went directly to Belzec. I’m sorry to tell you this, Lis, but the entire group, all three thousand, was executed as soon as they arrived at Belzec.’

“I was stunned. I knew so many of them. ‘Are you sure? They told us to take a suitcase, to bring our clothes. There were little children on that train.’

“‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Our information is accurate. They were all killed by carbon monoxide exhaust piped from a truck into locked chambers. As to their suitcases, that is a Nazi ruse – to make the victims more comfortable and compliant. Once at Belzec, the suitcases are taken by the Kapos – money, jewelry, eyeglasses and clothing are collected and supposedly sent to Berlin, although we know that much is stolen by the local SS. All the rest – the family pictures, the bibles, the mementos – is discarded.’

“All I could think of was how Otto, a boy I had known and loved for so many years, could willingly stand shoulder to shoulder with these monsters and send his townspeople to their death. And to think, Catherine, that he lives today in a mansion, wealthy beyond imagination, all at the expense of the thousands he robbed and sent to die. He’s living the life of a respected member of society, unblemished, loved by all Chicago.”

“Maybe not for long, Ben. Why don’t we continue tomorrow?”

“Not tomorrow, Catherine, it’s Friday.”

“Then Saturday.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

The first snow of the season, light fluffy flakes, floated about on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, giving the impression of a Lincoln Park snow globe. Ben rang Catherine’s doorbell just before the noon hour. He brushed the snowflakes from his jacket and shook his wool cap before entering her foyer.

“I predict it’ll be winter before it’s summer,” he said.

“That’s a safe prediction,” Catherine said. “Come on in. I’ve got a fire going and some tea brewing.”

“Are you sure you want to work on a Saturday?” Ben said.

“It’s as good a day as any. I don’t have regular office hours now, anyway. Besides, we need to push ahead.”

They walked into the living room and Ben took a seat in the overstuffed chair beside the fireplace. “I feel like I’m in therapy. Shall I take the same seat and confess my life’s history?”

Catherine sat back with her pad and pen. “So, tell Dr. Lockhart what happened next?”

Zamość, Poland 1942

“Ah yes. The raid on Wojda. Irek’s intelligence was flawless. There were six Germans guarding the arms depot with their dogs. Our plan was to rattle the dogs, get them barking and draw the guards out into the railroad yards. It worked perfectly. Half of them came snooping around the box cars with their leashed dogs. Having split from their group, we outflanked them and made quick work of the guards and their dogs. The rest of our group overtook the three guards at the depot and carted away dozens of weapons: pistols, rifles, machine guns.

“Unfortunately, as some of the partisans had warned, there were reprisals. We learned that German soldiers later descended on Wojda, indiscriminately shooting people on the street. But we were not dissuaded from our mission and the raids kept up. The weapons seized were sent, for the most part, by underground to the Warsaw ghetto. Some of them were given to the AK, the Polish home army.

“Hannah continued to work in the clinic with my mother. Father continued to serve on the Judenrat. There were no further transports from Zamość in April, but many refugees were shipped into Zamość from other villages, other cities and even other countries. A large group arrived from Czechoslovakia and the sheer numbers were difficult to absorb. Zamość became a transit location. People were collected in Zamość and then sent to other ghettos or to the death camps. It was like living in the middle of a crowded train station, with people coming and going all the time.

“As for me, I spent more and more time in the Zamość forests with the freedom fighters, sneaking back into the ghetto every few days to be with Hannah. I enlisted several more young people to join the resistance: friends from high school, kids I’d grown up with, even Lucyna who became a tough little fighter.

“Despite the wretched conditions, my nights with Hannah were sweet. We would shut out the world and talk of a future, far from Poland and the Germans, where we would raise our family. Hannah would become a nurse, she announced one night as we lay together, her head on my arm.

“‘What about me?’ I asked her, lightly tracing the curves of her figure with my fingertips. ‘What will I be when this war is over?’

“‘You’ll be a brilliant statesman, like your father. Or,’ she said mischievously, ‘maybe just a cranky old farmer, feeding hay to Buttermilk.’

“Moments like those were heaven itself. Even in the midst of our captivity, life was precious to me as long as I could hold my Hannah.”

Catherine smiled. “I wish I had met her.”

“I do too,” said Ben. “She was a woman of strong resolve, just like you.”

Ben stared into the fire, watched the flames dance, lingered with a memory or two and then continued. “On May 17th, the Judenrat received a directive from Otto’s office containing a list of elderly citizens who were ordered to register for deportation and resettlement by May 19th. We were shocked to see that Dr. Weissbaum’s name was included. Hannah and I immediately went to my father and asked him to intercede with Otto.

“My father scheduled an appointment for the next morning.

“‘I suppose you’re here to argue about the old people’s list,’ said Otto. ‘There’s nothing I can do. The orders were issued by Adolph Eichmann himself. They are to be resettled in barracks at Izbica to wait out the war. They’re unfit to enter the work force.’

“‘They’re not going to Izbica and you know it,’ Father said. ‘Stop lying to me, Otto. I want you to cancel the deportation.’

“‘You’re a fool, Abraham. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the authority to cancel Eichmann’s order.’

“‘Hannah’s father is on the list.’

“‘He’s over sixty.’

“‘He’s a doctor and he’s needed in the hospital.’

“‘For what? To prolong the lives of dead men? To keep them alive for another few months?’

“‘Take him off the list. He’s needed at the hospital.’

“Otto rocked back in his chair and flipped a pencil. ‘Is that your parental command? Your son is killing German officers with the so-called freedom fighters.’

“‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Ben is in Zamość.’

“‘Now who’s lying, Abraham? Bring Ben to me and I’ll release Dr. Weissbaum from the list.’

“‘You want me to turn in my own son?’

“‘And then I’ll release Dr. Weissbaum.’

“‘What will happen to Ben?

“‘I just want to speak to him.’

“‘You know I’ll never do that.’

“‘Then we have nothing more to talk about.’ Otto summoned his orderly who entered the room with a crisp Nazi salute. ‘Go back to your Judenrat, Abraham, and stop causing trouble or I’ll add you to the list.’”

Catherine took a deep breath. “What happened to Hannah’s father?”

“On May 26th and 27th, all of the people on the list were taken to the ramp, put on the train and transported directly to Belzec. Dr. Weissbaum was in the group.”

Catherine put her hand to her mouth.

“He had said his goodbyes to Hannah the night before. He knew what was in store for him. So did Hannah. Mother stayed by Hannah’s side throughout the next few days. It’s impossible to imagine the anguish of having parents taken from you, when you know…you know that they’re being sent to their death, that they’re going to be murdered. They’re going to be slaughtered. You can’t imagine, Catherine, you’d do anything, you’d….”

Ben couldn’t finish his sentence and all Catherine could do was sit helplessly and nod her head. He walked to the window and gazed at the street. It took a while for him to compose himself. He stared at the neighborhood, calm and peaceful. The grassy parkways were covered by a thin blanket of white. Catherine tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a box of Kleenex. A few minutes later Ben returned to his chair and continued.

“The summer passed without any further deportations. My resistance unit was busy attacking German patrols, setting bombs at German fortifications and capturing arms to be smuggled into the Warsaw ghetto. I was forced to spend longer periods away from Zamość. Many nights I could not return to New Town and I stopped going to roll call. A search was conducted and I was listed as missing. The official word was that I was killed in a raid. That meant I couldn’t be seen in town anymore, not even by our own people. But now and then I’d sneak back in the middle of the night. For Hannah and me, our time together became less frequent and all the more precious.

“On one of my visits, my father informed me that I was a wanted man, that Otto believed that I was still alive and had offered a reward – food and an exemption from the deportation list – for information leading to my arrest, or the arrest of anyone else in the Zamość resistance. To protect my family, I had to stay away. I would slip into Zamość only on rare occasions, spend a few hours with Hannah and be gone long before sunrise.

“In late September, Irek pulled me aside and told me that he had received word that the entire Zamość ghetto was to be demolished by the end of October, that every person was to be transported, probably to Izbica first and then to the death camps at Belzec or Sobibor. I knew I would have to get my family out before that happened. I made plans to get back to Zamość as soon as our operation in Zaboreczno was finished. Unfortunately, the operation took four weeks and it was late October before I returned.

“I slipped into town after midnight and moved quietly through the shadows. Many of the apartment buildings were vacant and the ghetto was very still. As I walked through the halls to my little corner apartment, it was obvious the building had been emptied. My apartment was bare. Hannah was gone.

“I dashed to my parents’ building and up to the second floor. Sheets still hung from the ceiling, but they only partitioned empty, silent spaces. I rushed down the hallway to their apartment. My heart sank. They too were gone. Only a few souls remained, hiding in the building, and they told me that almost everyone had been marched out days ago.

“Now I was frantic. I left the ghetto, ran to Elzbieta’s and knocked on her door. She answered in her robe and hurried me in. ‘Do you know the half the German army’s looking for you?’

“‘I’m sorry to come here, Elzie. I know I said I wouldn’t involve you, but Hannah and my parents are gone. The buildings are empty. I’m sure Otto knows where they are.’

“‘I’m sure he does, too,’ answered Elzbieta. ‘There have been mass deportations. They’re clearing out the ghettoes, not just in Zamość but all over Poland.’

“‘Would you take me to Otto, please?’

“‘Now? It’s the middle of the night – there’s nothing that can be done tonight. And, believe me, Otto will not help you. He’s the one who made the selections. He’s the one who implemented the deportations.’

“‘Will you drive me to his house? I don’t know where he lives.’

“‘She grimaced. ‘I will, but you cannot tell him that you talked to me.’

“I promise. I won’t mention you.’