I Will Plant You a Lilac Tree (8 page)

Captain Schlesinger was one of the visitors who came to the camp on a weekly basis. He stopped at my desk now and then. We talked about the weather and how I liked Poland—as if he didn't know I was not here of my own free will. From the very beginning I was puzzled over the resemblance he bore to a Jewish boy I had known in Berlin. His name too was Schlesinger. I became obsessed with the idea that the captain might be a Jew in disguise. I so wanted this to be true that I created a fantasy around him. I saw him as someone living with a false identity, someone who had come to rescue Jews.

One day Captain Schlesinger stayed longer than usual. After some meaningless talk he became more personal. “Judging from your dialect, you come from northern Germany,” he said.

“Yes, I do.” I realized that I had been too quick to answer. “I lived in Aurich, Ostfriesland, not far from the North Sea.”

“That makes us practically neighbors,” he joked. “I come from Hamburg. Have you ever been there?”

“Yes, many times. My mother's cousin lives there. He owns a haberdashery store.”

“It wouldn't be Salo Walden's haberdashery, would it?”

“Uh, yes,” I muttered. “What a coincidence.”

Schlesinger, appearing somewhat embarrassed, scratched his head. “The last time I saw Salo was a year ago. He and his family were on their way to Riga . . . deported, just like yourself. I personally sealed the apartment.”

I didn't know what to say. My heart skipped a few beats when I heard the word
deported
. I hoped they were still alive.

“I bought hats and ties from Salo Walden before all this happened,” Schlesinger
continued. “Too bad he is a Jew, or I'd still be buying from him.”

Unable to sleep that night, I thought of nothing else but Captain Schlesinger. It was impossible to figure him out. One moment I believed him to be a Jew in disguise, the next moment I didn't trust him. It was all so confusing.

When I didn't see him for several weeks, I thought he had been transferred, and in a way I was glad for that. But he did come back one day, leaning over my desk and laughing.

“I see our little Jewish girl is still here. I was wondering if they had sent
you
to Riga yet. Sooner or later you'll all go.”

He went into Manek's office and I thought I had seen the last of him, but on the way out he stopped at my desk again. I was totally unprepared for what he had to say next: “I can get you out of here.”

I thought I hadn't heard right.

“I can get you papers, Aryan papers,” he
continued. “I let a Polish girl disappear this week. You can have her apartment, her clothes. She was about your size. It's certainly better than going to Riga. No one comes back from Riga, and how long do you think Kra
nik can last? Think it over.”

I didn't know what to say. Perhaps my first perception of him had been correct—that he was a Jew and wanted to save fellow Jews. My decision to accept or decline his offer changed from hour to hour. In the end I convinced myself that he was trying to help me survive and that perhaps he knew something was about to happen in Kra
nik.

The next time he came into the office, I was ready.

“You'll have to get a pass from Manek that allows you to leave the camp,” he told me. “How about next Thursday? Tell him you have to help me with some office work.”

It sounded innocent enough, so I asked Manek for the pass. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

The look on his face was one of reluctance. But the moment passed, and I said, yes, I wanted the pass.

On Thursday, Captain Schlesinger arrived. I followed him out the gate and through the streets of Kra
nik, feeling apprehensive but excited. Not having been on an ordinary street since leaving Weimar, I stared at everything around me. Life seemed to be normal . . . for non-Jewish people. Girls in high heels walked the streets, as did women with shopping bags and children carrying satchels on their way home from school. When I slowed down a little to take all this in, the captain told me to hurry. It wasn't what he said but how he said it that gave me a fright. His voice was harsh, and I immediately sensed a change in him.
Oh God
, I silently prayed,
let this turn out all right. I am no longer sure if he is out to save me or to kill me
.

After we had walked awhile in total silence, he ordered me into a building. My suspicion that something bad was about to happen grew
when he started pushing me up the stairs to the third floor.

The apartment we entered was in total disarray. The floor was littered with the contents of drawers and cupboards and two pictures of a pretty girl in a summer dress. The pictures had been trampled on. I remembered what he had told me about “letting” a Polish girl disappear. Was he going to do the same thing to me? How could I have been so blind, not seeing through his scheme?

He did not keep me guessing very long as to why he had brought me here. Grabbing me by my hair, he said, “Whore, before I am finished with you, you'll tell me about the commandant. I'll fix that swine for getting involved with a Jewish pig!”

“What are you talking about?” I began. But then it suddenly became clear why I was here. He never had any intention of helping me. All he wanted to do was bring the commandant down.

He yanked my hair again. “Tell me now or I'll have to kill you.”

“I—I have never even talked to the c-commandant,” I stuttered, too dazed to speak clearly.

“He brought you to Kra
nik!”

“Yes, he did, but since then I have had no contact with him. He forgot about me.”

“You are lying, you filthy, dirty slut!” He squeezed my arm too tight.

“You're hurting me!”
I cried out.

Abruptly, he started to laugh. It sounded unnatural, almost maniacal. I was frantic. Before I knew it, he had pinned my arms behind my back. Then he threw me down on the bed.

“Are you ready to tell me now?”

“There is
nothing
to tell. Please, let me go!” I begged.

He threw himself on me, ripping my clothes off. His gun and the buckle of his belt pressed into my belly. I heard a zipper being undone and pleaded for him to stop. He breathed heavily
and smelled like an animal in heat, paying no attention to my cries. I tried sliding away, but each time he yanked me by my hair, pulling me under him again. With my arms still pinned behind me he did what he set out to do and finished by punching me in the face. At that moment the phone rang.

“All right, all right,” I heard him say to the caller in an agitated voice. “I'll be there in fifteen minutes.”

I got up, arranging my torn clothes as best I could.

“I will come back to kill you if you talk to anyone about this,” he said in a menacing voice. “Now get out.”

He pushed me back down the stairs, into the streets. I was bleeding profusely and my legs could barely carry me, but he rushed me to the camp's entrance and left me at the gate.

If I had hoped to get to my room unseen, I was mistaken. Manek was waiting for me, visibly agitated.

“Look at you! He beat you up in spite of what you told him. Did you think you could save yourself by selling us out?”

“Why . . . why didn't you warn me if you knew what he was after?” I cried.

“You'll have to figure that out for yourself. I'd like to know one thing: What did you tell him?”

“Nothing! I had nothing to tell him. I don't know what goes on here. He thought I had something going on with the commandant.”

I left him there and hurried to my room, where I relived the horror of the last few hours and tried to stop the bleeding. Avraham, the
Judenrat
policeman, soon called for me.

“Go away!” I shouted.

“You are wanted at the front office. You'd better come with me.”

I obeyed, fearful of being hurt again. When we reached the office, Avraham told me to wait. From beyond the closed door came loud voices.

“You should have stopped me from bringing
her here. You are responsible!” The commandant's words were angry.

“She couldn't tell him anything. She knows absolutely nothing,” Manek responded. “Herr Commandant, we have nothing to fear from her.”

“I want you to get rid of her,
now
.”

“Herr Commandant,” Manek pleaded, “I have a better idea. Let me take her to Budzyn. Untersturmführer Feix will know what to do with her, and our hands will remain clean.”

I passed out cold and never heard how it ended.

Manek and I had not spoken one word since we boarded the same military truck that had brought me to Kra
nik some months earlier. Finally, before leaving me at the entrance to the Budzyn camp, Manek said, “I saved your life by bringing you here.”

“It's because of you that I am in this predicament,” I snapped. “You should have warned me about that madman. Do you understand what he has done to me?
Do you?
”

“I couldn't take the chance. You might have told him things. What did he promise you?”

“My freedom, false papers, going to Germany as a foreign worker. I believed him.
How was I to know what he was after? What could I have told him? I was kept in the dark the entire time.”