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

2. Invasion

2 Invasion T he Wehrmacht marched into Warsaw on the first of October. The thunder of their boots against cobblestones, the clang of their rifles, arms swinging in unison as if pulled fanatically by one thread, still haunt my dreams. The day was dark with anguish. Holding Mama’s hand, I joined the dismal crowd of people standing back on sidewalks to witness our fate. Immediately, my life changed beyond belief. My once-peaceful streets were soon patrolled by Nazi soldiers in clicking boots and war helmets, with rifles cocked, ready to fire. Like common thieves they entered my neighbors’ homes and helped themselves to whatever they wanted. Officers with scissors shamelessly chased after Jews to cut off their beards. We were afraid to utter a word of protest, lest we and our neighbors would pay with our lives. One unforgettable day, I heard a mournful sigh rise from our courtyard. I rushed out onto the balcony and faced a ring of astonished faces staring down from rows of windows. I followed their gaze and saw Mr. Frenkel, our neighborhood aristocrat, crossing the courtyard . Half his beard was gone! One cheek was startlingly bare and crimson. Disgraceful Invasion 7 hands of barbarians had bruised the gentle face of our noblest neighbor. I looked into his grave face and felt myself falling with him, with all my people, into a bottomless abyss. Never before was my soul so wounded, never before had I cried as deeply, as silently, as acrimoniously as at that moment. Mama whispered, “Where is God?” Each day brought a new calamity. Street megaphones blasted orders and threats to kill us if we did not immediately surrender furs, paintings, jewelry, and currency to pay for the war that we, Jews, were crazily accused of starting. Bravely, my parents and everyone I knew hid what they could. Seeing my people resist cruel mandates gave me heart. We were forbidden to walk about the streets between nine at night and five in the morning. The curfew silence hung outside my blacked-out windows like a harbinger of danger. The night no longer sparkled with city lights, and laughter no longer made the darkness sing. We had limited use of water, no radios or newspaper, no electricity, no telephones. We could not reach friends, even in an emergency. We lived in a state of darkness, cut off from the world and everything that was taking place in it. At night, when the streets were as silent as death, Mama lit the wick on a ball-shaped carbide lantern. A small orb of light formed around the table while the rest of the room was in semidarkness. The tiny flame flickered like a leaf in a hurricane and made our eyes smart. To see fine details, we had to sit close to the light and inhale the putrid odor of carbide. Still, the darkness did not keep us from reading, mending our clothes, or playing. I felt a precarious safety—like hiding in a cave from a pack of wolves—sitting with Mama, Tata, and Fredka within that small circle of light. Sometimes I would imagine the Nazi soldiers who slept in the distance being swallowed into eternal darkness and leaving us to find our way back to our happy lives. They closed our schools. Bored children got into mischief and drove parents to distraction. After weeks of negotiations, the Judenrat (Jewish Council) obtained permission to open supervised Ogródki (playgrounds). Everyone was grateful. The kids, tired of being cooped up, dashed to the playgrounds like alcoholics to bars. Our counselors, unemployed teachers, taught us spirited Yiddish songs filled with funny animal sounds and amusing characters. Our laughter flowed like warm honey; our fears drowned in the joy of play and make-believe. During quiet time, our guardians told us wonderful Yiddish folktales; they encouraged us to think, use good judgment, and not lose trust. War 8 Our happiness did not last long. After several months, the Germans ordered the Jewish Council to close our short-lived paradise. With nothing to do, Fredka and I spent hours at home. When we became restless, we joined children in the courtyard in self-organized games. Our exuberant voices vibrated throughout the building complex. We made up skits and games in which we slew the Nazi criminals. We bounced balls against the walls of the building and played hide-and...