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Authors: Ronald H. Balson

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BOOK: Karolina's Twins
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T
WENTY-THREE

I
T WAS A GLOOMY
, rainy Friday morning when Lena arrived at Catherine's office a half hour late. “What happened in court yesterday?” she said, shaking her umbrella in the office foyer.

Catherine shrugged off the question. “It wasn't very pleasant. Judge Peterson persisted in his campaign to force me to abide by his order, but he ended by continuing everything to Monday morning. Walter is very confident about our legal position and we hope to get this whole matter disposed of in the short term. We think we might be able to offer a list of questions that aren't private and won't violate your confidential disclosures. Meanwhile, I'd like to use as much time as we have over the next three days to finish your narrative. Let's you and I work really hard to get all of the background information so that Liam can start to track down the two girls.”

“Of course.” Lena handed her coat to Gladys and followed Catherine into the conference room.

Catherine pulled her yellow pad out of her file, flipped the pages to the end of her notes and smiled as if a thought crossed her mind.

“Something strike you as funny?” Lena said.

Catherine nodded. “We begin our sessions like a ten-part TV drama series. You know, ‘Previously, on the Life of Lena Woodward…'”

“Lena Scheinman,” she corrected with a chuckle. “
Previously,
I had completed two deliveries of the secret Auschwitz reports to Colonel Müller, the second one without a hitch. Winter was drawing to a close, but life in the ghetto continued to disintegrate. The Grim Reaper had many tools: starvation, disease, disenchantment, lack of energy, lack of purpose. Many of the elderly, or those in a weakened condition, had reached the point where they couldn't work or even forage for necessities and they lost their will to face another day. Compromised immune systems were no match for the bacteria and viruses that ran rampant throughout the ghetto. Lice, insect infestation, rats and skin diseases were more than our understaffed and unsupplied clinics could handle. Even a minor cold or the flu was life-threatening and extraordinarily contagious.

“Karolina's relationship with Siegfried kept going strong and managed to keep us well-fed. David also had access to food from the pantries at the Shop, and occasionally I'd have extra bread for us. In that regard, Karolina and I were among the privileged and we knew it. The young and healthy survived. The old and feeble expired or were sent to die.

“In late March, David tapped me on the shoulder to let me know there was a delivery to be made that night. Jan was in his room when I arrived.

“‘Tonight's report is of the gravest importance,' Jan said. ‘It may be the single most important message that Ares has ever sent. Be very careful, and make sure it gets to the colonel.'

“‘Of course.' I put my shoes on and proceeded to the loading dock. David wrapped a dozen coats in brown paper, tied them onto the cart and put his hands on my shoulders.

“‘Lena, when the information in this report hits London, it'll be a bombshell. Depending on how the Allies use the information, it could save a lot of lives—Jewish lives. Guard these reports.'

“‘With my life, David.'

“He gave me a hug and off I went. That March was unusually warm, so I was dressed in a short skirt, a little below my knees, and a cotton top. The balmy spring night brought quite a social scene to the square: Wehrmacht soldiers, SS, Gestapo and assorted women laughing and partying at outdoor cafes and bars. You'd have thought you were in Berlin, in the Tiergarten or the Pariser Platz.

“My path took me directly alongside the square and pushing my cart, I drew several stares and pointed fingers. At the corner of the square, an SS officer beckoned me over with his index finger, questioned me and examined my papers. Satisfied with the written instructions, he nodded to his comrades and waved me on. I didn't notice the soldier who rose from his seat at the bar across the square and followed me into the darkened side streets.

“Once out of the lights of the square, and inasmuch as it was hours after curfew, the streets were quiet and empty. Buds were sprouting on the large bushes that bordered the residential lots like privacy fences. In the late hours, my walkway was illuminated only with occasional lights glimmering from the windows of the houses. I heard his footsteps and his breathing long before I turned around and saw the massive bulk of Corporal Rolf. He grabbed my shoulder and spun me around.

“‘You little bitch. I have to be at work in an hour, on the fucking midnight shift, and you know why, don't you? Because of you! You made a fool out of me in front of my superior officer. And for what? For your sacred little body that nobody can touch? Do you think you're so much better than me? I got news. You're a fucking Jew, the lowest thing on earth.'

“He grabbed my hair and pulled my head in a circle. ‘Look around, bitch. Nobody here. Nobody to rescue you tonight. Just you and me.'

“‘I'm on assignment,' I said frantically. ‘These coats are to go to Colonel Müller immediately. He's expecting me. Let me go and I won't say anything.'

“‘I won't say anything,' he mocked. ‘I won't say anything. Boo hoo. You know what I think? I think you're going to be late for your appointment.' He yanked me by my hair and pulled me backward around and behind the bushes. His other hand covered my mouth.

“‘Now you're going to give me what I wanted weeks ago. Remember? Whatever Rolf wants, Rolf always gets?' I was scared to my very soul. Not only was he a savage behemoth, a snarling beast, but he was armed—a pistol on one hip and his knife on the other. I thought I'd never survive the night.

“He slid the knife out of its sheath and pointed at my skirt. ‘Do you take it off or do I slice it off?'

“I stood frozen. Any other time, he would have had to kill me before I'd let him defile me. But this time Ares's report was hidden in my shoes. It could change the war. I had to get it to Colonel Müller. Never taking my eyes off him, I slid my skirt down. A salacious grin spread on his face. He threw me down on the grass and straddled over me. I watched as he loosened his belt and dropped his trousers. He started breathing hard.

“As he lowered himself onto me and bent his knees, his pistol came into my view, but not quite into my reach. I had to maneuver myself. Move to the side. Get him closer. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him up. ‘Aah,' he said. ‘You like it.' His breathing was heavier now. I slid my right arm down his back, down his leg, grabbed the pistol out of its holster and shoved the barrel under his chin.

“‘Get up,' I said.

“‘Ha.' He laughed. ‘You don't know the first thing about a gun.'

“‘Don't bet on it. I'm the Captain's daughter.' I pulled the trigger and blew a hole through his head.

“I was shaking like a leaf. I had blood on my hands, on my face and on my shirt. I rolled Rolf's body off of me and under the bushes. I wiped my hands on the grass and put my skirt on. My cart was still in the street. I ran to it and quickly pushed it down the street and around the corner. I had to get to Colonel Müller, but I couldn't go into the house covered in Rolf's blood. Else would see me.

“Three blocks away, on the other side of the train tracks, the Chechlo River wound through the town. I wrung out my cotton top and washed my face and hands in the muddy water as best I could. I looked like hell, but at least most of the blood was gone.

“Finally, I made it to Colonel Müller's and knocked on the door. The colonel answered, took one look at me and stepped back in shock. ‘What in the world happened to you?'

“‘I was attacked.' My head was spinning. ‘But I have your reports, sir.'

“He hurriedly steered me into the study and shut the door. I sat down on the leather chair, looked at him with dazed eyes and threw up.

“‘Jesus Christ,' he said. ‘We've got to clean you up. We're lucky Else's not here.'

“While he was out of the room, I took the reports out of my shoes and laid them on the desk. One of the reports unfolded. What I read there was terrifying. Insane. Totally unbelievable. As it was, I was living in a nightmare, under the cruelest of oppressors, but Ares's notes portrayed a terror far worse than I could have imagined—a locked, sealed chamber in Bunker 2 where naked prisoners were taken and mass-murdered by poison gas. The report disclosed that the IG Farben factory in Monowitz was manufacturing Zyklon B gas for the future extermination of the Jewish race.

“The report went on to describe the selection process. Jews arriving at Auschwitz were divided into lines for men and women. SS officers would then go through the lines and those considered fit for labor were moved to one side of the ramp. The others—women with children, those under fourteen, older persons, disabled—were taken to other barracks. A drawing of the two camps, a layout of the barracks and cell blocks was included with the report.

“This report was more shocking than I could have ever imagined. No wonder Jan had stated that it was of the gravest importance. The colonel came back into the room while I was reading the reports. I looked at him, grabbed the papers and shook them in his face.

“‘Do you know about this? What you German monsters are doing?'

“He grabbed my shoulders. ‘Shh! Not one word. You have seen nothing. Do you understand me? This report must get to London. If any of this leaked out, if the Gestapo got wind of it, they would find us. They would shut down the network. And don't think for a minute they can't find us. They are the most accomplished investigation unit in the world. Earlier this year, they found documents in Prague that identified our best Polish intelligence agents. They tracked them down all the way to Istanbul. If they know about Ares's reports they'll find him and all our agents, including you, me and David. You should never have read these reports.'

“‘You don't have to worry about me. I won't breathe a word. All I care about is getting this information to the rest of the world.'

“He nodded. ‘Tell me what happened to you tonight.'

“I narrated the attack. My jaw quivered, but not with fear. With anger. Rage.

“‘Where is the body?' he said. ‘We must dispose of it immediately. If the SS or the Gestapo finds out a Wehrmacht corporal has been killed, there will be a rampage of reprisals.' So, I told him to follow me and I'd take him to where I had left Rolf.

“‘First we need to clean you up.' He tilted his head. ‘You know where the bathroom is. Take a quick shower and we'll leave.'

“It felt odd showering in my house again. Everything was surreal. I was in my bathroom, in the shower, washing away the blood of a Nazi rapist. None of this was happening. Like one of those bizarre dreams where improbable episodes are strung together and when you wake up, you think, how could my mind have conceived of such freakish things? I finished showering and almost walked up to my bedroom.

“The colonel grabbed a shovel and we quietly left the house. We pushed my cart six or seven blocks to where I was attacked. Rolf's body, minus a large portion of his skull, lay in the bushes, his pants down around his ankles. We covered his body in coats and tried to lift him into the cart. But he weighed three hundred pounds. Dead weight. We couldn't lift him. Finally, we tipped the cart down and rolled him in.

“We dug a shallow grave by the riverbed and dumped him in. We threw the gun and his hat in after him. I stopped the colonel from pulling up his pants. ‘Bury him just the way he died,' I said. ‘He deserves no dignity. If someone should ever find him, they'll know why he was killed.'

“‘You are one tough woman,' he said with a smile. ‘I knew that the minute I met you. So, we'll bury him with his flag flying at half-mast.' We covered him up and filled in the grave.

“The colonel instructed me to take the cart back to David, and turned to walk back to his home. I should say my home. He took a step, looked back at me and said, ‘Well done, Captain Scheinman's daughter. He'd be proud.'

“I reached the Shop and put the cart away. David opened his door, let me in and said, ‘What in the hell happened to you?' I started to answer and collapsed into tears. I couldn't talk for several hours, except to tell him that the reports had been delivered to the colonel. As usual, I stayed with David for the rest of the night. He was so kind and understanding. He cradled me all night. Eventually, toward morning, I told him what had happened. I never did tell him I was violated.

“He told me he was proud of me. He told me I was a Polish hero. ‘You don't have to carry any more reports. We'll find another courier. You did your share, more than your share.'

“‘The hell you will. I read the report tonight, David. I saw what Ares wrote. It's madness. I insist on being a part of the network.' With that, he kissed me and told me how deeply he cared for me.”

“Was that the night you fell in love?” Catherine said.

“I didn't tell you I fell in love with David.”

“I didn't tell you I was pregnant.”

Lena's smile broadened. “Well, the answer is if I hadn't already, I probably did that night. Morning came way too soon. David elbowed me. ‘Shift change,' he said. ‘I've got to get downstairs. You can take the day off. Go back to your apartment and sleep.'

“‘Do you think I can sleep after all this?'

“‘Then stay here. I'll come up later this morning.'

“So I did. Actually, I stayed for three days. It was heaven.”

“Even in the direst of circumstances, love will emerge,” Catherine said. “Reminds me of
Casablanca
—‘the fundamental things apply.'”

“Catherine!” Lena said sternly, but with a smile.

“Sorry, I'm a sucker for a love story. Especially a wartime love story. I feel like I'm talking to Ingrid Bergman.”

BOOK: Karolina's Twins
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