Appel Is Forever: A Child’s Memoir

5. Winter

WINTER It's now cold at appel. Sometimes it snows in heavy, wet flakes. Mama goes back to the barrack. She cries, and in between cries she mutters curses at the Germans. She gets Daantje out to stand appel in the cold, wet snow and I've never before heard Mama say the bad words she says now. Daantje has an ear infection. He gets hot and cries because his ear hurts so. But today the Germans are throwing all the sick people out in the snow. Mama goes to get him before they do. One very cold day, a new transport of people arrives. They are from France. I think they must be from very far away south where it never gets cold. The women and children wear cotton summer dresses and slippers or sandals. Across the appel space I notice a girl, maybe my age. I like how she looks but she must be so terribly cold! I suddenly think to run across the open space to give her my hat. But, oh, I can't do that. If the Germans see me, they'll find out who my Mama is and who my Papa is and then they'll punish them. I think that. And so I don't run across to give that French girl my hat. I hate being not brave enough to run across the appel space! Now that it is cold and wet, appel is even longer. Often it is dark night before we can go back to the barrack. One evening I cry softly. Oh, I don't want to cry but everything in me is cold, wet, and drawn together in hunger hurt. Appel is over but it's so far to walk back to the barrack. It's still snowing. My feet squish in my icy, wet shoes. I begin to listen to what Mama is telling me. Mama says my body is just like a little black stove, just like the one that stands in the barrack. Like a little stove my body needs fuel. When we get back she will give me and Daantje some 51 CHAPTER 5 food she still has. And then just like a little round stove that gets hot and glowy as the fire burns, I will feel warm and glowy good. When we sit on our bunk, Mama gets a container out of the rucksack . She gives each of us a spoonful of the most delicious tasting food I have ever eaten. I don't know what it is. Mama tells me it is oat flakes mixed with cocoa and sugar. We get one other spoonful. Not just my tongue but my whole body is slurping in the wonderful taste. I have never, never before had anything so exquisitely delicious. Sometimes the men can come to our compound. Their compound is right next to ours. There is a huge double barbed-wire gate. Sometimes the gate is open, sometimes closed. Papa is sitting with Mama, Daantje, and me. It is snowing again. The snow is packed on the ground. I take off my shoes. I walk to the doorway and go outside to walk in the snow in my bare feet. It is very important to me to try this and find out what it feels like. I can do it but there is a burning sensation on my feet. Mama and Papa call to me. They look at me. Why don't they understand how important it is to test out what the snow feels like? I myself am sure that soon I'll be barefoot in the snow. Like the other kids, I have the front of my shoe cut away so that there is room for my toes. But soon my shoes are going to fall apart even if my feet don't grow bigger. That's why I want to find out what the snow will feel like. By a wooden table, outside between two barracks, I sit with about four other children. A woman I vaguely know is getting us together to teach us. I hardly know what she's talking about and refuse to say anything to her. It seems that once upon a time I knew these numbers but I can't get a clear hold of what I once knew. Besides, I think she's crazy. Who cares about numbers! Stupid grownups! Sure enough, two Germans are coming toward us and I've already run...