Transcending Darkness: A Girl’s Journey Out of the Holocaust

1. Strong! United! Ready!

1 Strong! United! Ready! T he morning of September 1, 1939, was serene. Tata came into the living room in a dapper suit, a hat in his hand, kissed my mother, sister, and me, and left the house to visit his clients on Królewska Street, in the heart of Warsaw. Sometime on that day a deafening explosion shook the earth. Then, silence—as if all the air had been sucked out of the universe. Just as suddenly, screaming air-raid sirens set the city aquiver. Stunned, Mama turned on the radio and we heard, “Attention. Attention. Poland is under attack! German warplanes dropped bombs on Warsaw!” My gosh! Is Tata safe? Are we safe without him? I shuddered. Unable to contain our fears, Mama, Fredka, and I took posts at a window with a view of the wrought iron gate at the far end of our courtyard, and waited for Tata to come home. As soon as he stepped into the arched entrance, we bolted to the front door to barrage him with hugs and questions. “Tata, Tata, what is happening? Was it a real bomb?” “Oh yes, it was! I saw the devastation.” “What did you see, Tata?” “It was awful. And so sudden. I heard a loud rumble of airplanes. I stopped and looked up. Everyone in the street did the same. In a split second, planes dove out of the sky. Then boooom! Bombs were falling and buildings exploded before our eyes. Everyone stood War 2 frozen in place. Shocked. So helpless! The bombers took off with the same lightning speed, air-raid sirens began to shriek, and I rushed home to you.” Perhaps we should have expected the attack. For endless months, our radios had blared German threats to annex Poland’s only port city, Gdynia. Slogans—“Silni! Zwarci! Gotowi!” (Strong! United! Ready!)—screamed from banners draped across the city. Airraid sirens screeched to drill us for a possible attack. Still, war remained unimaginable until the first bomb fell on Warsaw. Even then, the true brutality of war remained distant. For me, the real blight of war began on that night. In an instant, I, at the age of ten, and Fredka, eleven and a half, stopped being carefree children and began to carry the tragic burdens of life. That night I was awakened by a fierce rumble of airplanes. Before I could lift my head from the pillow, brilliant, hissing beams of light illuminated the sky: “Hisss! Hisss!” like wicked winds. A barrage of explosions convulsed the earth. Moments later, terrified people, still in bedclothes, babies in their arms, were running from their houses in search of safety. Some carried small bundles of valuables. Many grabbed the nearest object without thinking. No one really knew where to run. Imagining greater danger to be on the higher floor, we rushed downstairs to my best friend Janka’s house—as if we would rather be covered by the warm earth than be crushed by collapsing buildings. What ensued that night was beyond my imagination. The heavens opened with blinding blasts of lights, erasing the star-incrusted darkness and making every building a clear target. Then, roaring flocks of Messerschmitts and Stukas swooped down, dropping bombs around us, destroying one house after another, and killing people with every burst. Gargantuan detonations shook the planet, and flames licked neighboring buildings. Quivering with fright, we sat huddled close together, seeking comfort in each other’s presence. When the explosions paused, I was not quite sure if I was still alive. For the next four weeks, bombs rained on our heads. The thunder of detonations, the rumble of collapsing buildings, staccato pops of antiaircraft guns firing from rooftops, cries of panic, plumes of smoke, and the smell of burning flesh were interminable. My world turned to chaos. Even when the bombardments paused, no one went to work or to school. Always we turned our ears to the radio, hearing urgent calls. “Let us rise up and defend our city! Be on the watch for spies! Beware of German nationals sneaking up on rooftops to send flashlight signals to enemy planes!” Strong! United! Ready! 3 People barricaded the streets with stacks of furniture in hope of stopping the advance of German tanks. A blackout cloaked the city in fearful darkness. My city seemed to stop breathing. Yet this was merely the prelude to events soon to come. In...