Rigadoon (29 page)

"Lili, kid, we've got to get through, no matter what."

She thinks so too . . . I see we're not alone on the platform . . . lots of people . . . must be waiting for a train too . . . or trains, I don't know . . . now, thirty years later, there must still be people on those same platforms, but not the same . . . people from all over, tourists who like it up there . . . traveling, once and for all, isn't my cup of tea, Lili's neither, I'd say . . . and this Flensburg border was only a beginning . . . I'll tell you all about it . . . everything looks easy afterwards, but under those conditions, in the flesh, the slightest boner, even with that brute of a gendarme, I know the type, they'd skin us alive! observe, if you please, our presence of mind, not a second's rest in months . . . you'll say: I could do just as well! . . . maybe . . . I won't judge you! I'm here to tell a story . . .

A brainstorm! . . . instinctive! . . . my arm band! . . . I'd forgotten! quick as a flash! . . . I rummage in my pocket! . . . I had it . . . greasy, grimy, but authentic . . . Bezons, Passive Defense . . . red cross, stamps, the whole works . . . I slip it onto my arm and say to Lili:

"Listen! . . . we've no more papers, no more passports, no more anything! . . . just my arm band!"

"Anything you say, Louis!"

"Listen some more!"

Nothing to listen to, but suddenly plenty to look at! big commotion! . . . I've told you this Flensburg station had at least twenty platforms . . . all of a sudden they were crowded with people . . . looks like these people are going someplace . . . crumpled up on my sacks, I couldn't see exactly where they were going . . . I get up, I drag myself . . . ah, now I see! . . . at least a hundred of them have grabbed hold of a car . . . a hundred? more like a thousand . . . women men kids . . . soldiers, civilians . . . trying to climb in, but the doors are locked . . . not just one car . . . four . . . five . . . a whole train . . . hey, I see what it is, I dig it! it's a Red Cross train . . . covered with little Red Cross flags and great big signs! . . . I'd have seen them before if I hadn't been so foggy in the head . . . and say, it's all in technicolor, all the cars . . . sky-blue and yellow . . . the whole train from end to end . . . I think some more and finally it sinks in: this is a Swedish Red Cross train, Sweden via Flensburg . . . naturally there are plenty of takers! . . . they're trying to take it by storm . . . but it's jampacked already, looks to me . . . hundreds of women at the windows and their kids and nurses . . . this train is all full of children . . . say, I'm "Red Cross" myself! my arm band proves it! . . . and I've got a litter of kids too! in distress! . . . this blinking train is pulling up where we are . . . it'll cross the border all right, no customs, no nothing! that's why they're all so hopped up, them and their bundles, holding on for dear life! . . . a hundred, I said, no, a thousand! . . . I'm not exaggerating . . . civilians and soldiers . . . even French soldiers, must be from the camps or factories . . . they've all got a thing about Sweden . . . I call one of them who's hoisted himself up on a coupling, I ask him what's going on . . . it's Swedish kids and their mothers being repatriated from Germany . . . the Swedish Red Cross! . . . good deal! just what we needed! our kids are Swedish too, every last one of them! . . . an idea! . . . that takes care of everything! . . . the kids won't say different! . . . I may be gaga, falling apart, but when it comes to ideas . . . never at a loss!. . . I've got mine . . .

Lili understands . . . right away . . . she'd better! . . . quick, I've got to find some official! or better still an officer, and explain! . . . there must be somebody in charge of this stinking Red Cross! . . . that we've got all these Swedish children and they should take them . . . save them! . . . that we haven't anything left to give them! . . . that the Red Cross came along in the nick of time . . . that we've come from Berlin . . . and these slobbering lopsided children have lost their fathers and mothers . . . in the horrible air raids . . . but that they're Swedish, every last one of them! . . . guaranteed! . . . that they can't talk or understand, all they know how to do is slobber . . . nothing else . . . hardly walk . . . that I'd had their papers, but we'd lost everything in Hanover in the phosphorus bombing . . . and crossing the canal . . . there wouldn't be anybody to contradict us . . . shell-shocked Swedish children that had lost their fathers and mothers . . . and that we . . . them and us . . . had absolutely no biscuits, milk, or papers . . . okay with Lili, but who are we going to appeal to . . . I see that this Swedish train isn't stopping . . . it's going very slow, but it keeps moving . . . it's passing . . . with big clusters of people hanging onto the doors and couplings . . . lousy luck, I'm thinking . . . I stand there like a sap . . . not Lili . . . before I can bat an eye! . . . she's under the train . . . that's right! . . . she's thrown herself on the roadbed! . . . and what a scream! . . . she that never screams . . . run over? . . . not at all! . . . always so quiet and soft-spoken! I go down on my knees, I crawl . . . I crawl under the crowd . . . I sing out: "Lili! Lili!" . . . naturally she can't hear me, they're all yelling too loud! . . . oh, I've got my wits back! better late than never, I need them! . . . "Lili! Lili!" . . . the Swedish train has stopped . . . it's puffing hard:
choom! choom!
they must have pulled the alarm bell. . . maybe Lili is . . . I'll find out! . . . "Lili! Lili!" she's still screaming down there . . . I'm still crawling, I see her . . . she's crossed the track . . . no! she's under the car, between the rails, on the roadbed . . . "here! . . . here! . . . here! . . ." it's her! . . . "Lili! Lili!" . . . she's still screaming . . . but not an agonizing scream . . . I can tell . . . I know my screams . . . she's wailing, she's calling me . . . I think . . . I'll have to get under that car myself . . . I climb over one rail! . . . I see her! she's up against the opposite wheel, I think . . . doesn't seem to be hurt . . . I know she's supple . . . all the same it took some acrobatics to slip between the moving wheels . . . moving very slowly, I grant you, but even so . . . the whole hollering crowd was doing like me, trying to see what was going on underneath and whether Lili's been squashed . . . at least with all their yelling they'd stopped the train! . . . and
click! click!
a door opens! . . . same car! . . . finally! . . . an official in uniform appears at the door, I guess he wants to see for himself . . .
boo! boo!
. . . they're heckling him, howling, bellowing! hell, they'd wanted to see him, hadn't they? . . . oh, it doesn't faze him . . . he looks at us, he's not even surprised . . . a Swedish officer, I think . . . or maybe a train master . . . anyway, something in the Red Cross . . . he's got the same arm band as me, except his is very clean . . . I get down on my knees, then on all fours, I crawl to the door, not far, two three yards . . . I'd suddenly got my wits and gumption back! . . . "it's now or never! . . . I'll worry about my emotions later! . . ." exactly! now, thirty years later . . . I says to myself . . . so I'm in front of this Red Cross officer . . . no, not in front . . . under! I'm on the roadbed, on all fours, under the running board . . . he's up top . . . dominating the bellowing crowd . . . I don't bellow! . . . I speak in a loud voice, but not too loud . . . distinctly so everybody can hear me! . . . in French . . . and in English! . . . who we are! . . . I've got to make him understand! that I'm a French Red Cross doctor . . . my wife . . . a nurse . . . is under the train! that's her screaming! . . . "you can hear her, can't you?" . . . we've got sixteen children with us! all Swedish! . . . they've come from Breslau! . . . they've lost their parents! . . . all their parents dead, burned! . . . air raids! . . . phosphorus! these children can't talk, neither language . . . they can't talk at all . . . shock, and losing their parents! . . . they've been burned too, a lot of them were killed, we've got the sixteen survivors.

This harangue, first in French then in English, makes him look at me . . . he answers me in two languages . . . he thinks it's a habit I've gotten into, an affectation . . . our French English makes the mob stop yelling . . . they're trying to understand . . .

"What were you doing in Germany?"

"I was a prisoner, a doctor in one of the camps . . ."

"Are all these children Swedish?"

"I should say so! . . . I had their papers and ours . . . my wife's and mine, but . . . you see . . . everything was destroyed by fire in the Hamburg station . . . clothes, knapsacks, billfolds! we haven't anything left!"

But come to think of it, who's he? he hasn't told me . . . a military escort? . . . a captain?

He tells me . . . he's a Red Cross doctor . . . me too! the Bezons "Passive" . . . my arm band proves it! . . . he can examine it! . . . he examines . . . grimy black but authentic, stamps and all! . . . that's what interests him! where had I learned such good English? . . . London Hospital Mile End Road . . . and at the League of Nations in Geneva and in America at the Rockefeller Foundation . . .ah, that's a bridge between us . . .

"Where are the children?"

"There in the crowd . . . underfoot . . . you can't see them, but they'll show themselves if my wife calls them . . . they can't talk but they obey her . . . more or less . . ."

But Lili? where is she? I look under the car . . . she's on the other side of the tracks, she's not hurt . . . "Bébert! Bébert!" . . . he's run away! . . . the mob are all under the train calling "Bébert! Bébert!" . . . having a fine time . . . that crazy cat had seized the opportunity, no exercise in a week, we couldn't let him out at the canal . . . and you've never seen such a cat for expeditions . . . a naturalist, sort of . . . a sniffer . . . real appreciation of grasses and plants . . . even if he was a city cat out of a department store, from the pet shop . . . once he's disappeared into the bushes, try and catch him! . . . except Lili . . . nobody else . . . I could see this Red Cross official wasn't so strict, I even think he was sympathetic . . . especially because I spoke English . . .

"How many children have you here?"

"I can't tell you exactly . . . we've lost some along the way . . . we lost two or three in Hanover . . . and some at the canal, I think . . . there must be about seventeen . . ."

We could talk at our ease . . . the howling mob were on the other side of the train with Lili, beating the bushes, I was sure she'd have caught Bébert a lot quicker by herself . . . the Swede thought so too . . . he finally makes a note: seventeen children . . . but where are they? . . . Lili'd catch them quick . . . they must be across the way . . .

"And they're all Swedish?"

He wants me to confirm . . .

"Certainly!"

"How old?"

"From five to eight . . . you'll see . . ."

"And the parents are dead?"

"Most probably . . ."

I can see this Scandinavian is sympathetic . . . he realizes that what I'm telling him may be kind of contrived . . . and that maybe the kids aren't exactly Swedish, but the main thing right now is that his train should take us aboard, if it doesn't we'll be in a bad way . . . worse than bad . . .

"You realize that this is a very special train . . . absolutely reserved for the repatriation of Swedish children and mothers . . . you understand?"

I understand all right! No answer to that, so I don't say a word . . . here's Lili again, not hurt . . . she hasn't crawled under the car, she's gone around by the roadbed . . . all our little cretins are with her . . . they'd been in the bushes with Bébert, enjoying themselves . . . that's why I didn't see them . . .

"There! there they are!"

The Swedish officer counts them . . . not seventeen . . . but eighteen! . . . to tell the truth, I'd never counted them . . . he's going to register them . . . he has a book . . .

"They haven't any names? . . . girls? . . . boys?"

"We have never known . . ."

God's truth! oh well, as long as he lets them in . . . he opens the door of one car . . . double-locked! . . . and an enormous padlock in addition . . .
click clack
. . . the people are coming back, the kids don't climb up, they can't, we hoist them . . . some nurses come and take them, one by one, and lead them away . . . very gently . . . they talk to them, they try . . . the kids slobber and laugh . . . we see them . . . for the last time . . . Lili and I have to go to the tail end of the train . . . the kitchen, to be exact . . . our Red Cross officer leads the way . . . through one . . . two corridors . . . a fat lady welcomes us . . . very friendly, big smile . . . she's at home here . . . she offers us everything . . . everything . . . enormous sandwiches! . . . fish! . . . sausages! . . . sliced meat! . . . three big tables covered with cold dishes and hot dishes . . . and salads and goodies . . . mountains! . . . and all sorts of puddings, tapioca . . . macaroni, corn meal, oatmeal! . . . you never saw such eats . . . a vision! for sure they've brought it from Sweden . . . they haven't suffered up there, anyway not from hunger . . . this incredible food certainly isn't from Germany . . . they've brought it all with them . . . they're not suffering up there, certainly not from hunger . . . the fat cook motions us to help ourselves, to dive in! . . . take all we want, the sky's the limit! she doesn't speak French or English . . . but she's so kind and friendly we're ashamed to be standing there in a daze . . . stupefied . . . in front of all those riches . . . luckily Bébert saves the day, he sticks his head out of his bag . . . and his moustaches . . . a bite to eat would suit him fine . . . he doesn't stand on ceremony! they understand each other, success! . . . she knows cats, she holds out a big meatball in the hollow of her hand . . . "don't mind if I do!" . . .
yum! yum!
nothing wrong with his appetite . . . I have none at all . . . not yet. . . I just look at the stuff . . . Lili looks too . . . our trouble is fatigue! . . . too tired to eat just then . . . never mind, we'll get it back . . . first we've got to catch our breath . . . it's all right with our amiable cook, she understands . . . first we'll rest! . . . take it easy . . . rest! . . . rest! . . . she has three chairs lined up against the wall. . . she makes us sit down . . . I ask Lili . . .

"You all right? . . . no pain anywhere? . . . not sleepy . . . not hungry? . . ."