The Remnant - Stories of the Jewish Resistance in WWII (20 page)

As was the ancient custom, Rachel's betrothal had been prearranged by their parents, but she had fallen in love with Avraham. That love had now, very naturally, transferred to Solomon.

When Sol was away from the family camp, Rachel was busy at the infirmary. They had limited medical supplies, no trained medical personnel and a growing number of patients. Rachel did the best she could for the injured and sick. With the help of God and her nursing care, most survived. Those who did not survive did not die alone.

Sol, for his part, never pursued her aggressively. Not only had she recently lost her father and fianc , but also she was orthodox in her upbringing, the daughter of a great rabbi. Solomon was not experienced in the ways of love. Having turned eighteen shortly before the invasion, there had been no real opportunity. And now, in his depression Rachel realized that if their love was to develop, she would have to be the aggressor. Her physical and emotional needs were strong and awake.

His, she decided, needed awakening.

It was now mid May. For the first time since the Germans had occupied the Ukraine, the weather was becoming warm. The long dreadful winter was over. The forest life was renewing. Freshness was in the air-a wonderful fragrance. During the days, the guerrillas could abandon their heavy clothes and greatcoats. They referred to themselves as guerrillas now rather than partisans. It had come from a casual discussion one evening in the meeting hut. Several of the Jews had been talking and one had spoken of their partisan activities.

"I'd rather consider myself a guerrilla fighter," Sol interrupted. "Partisans have a country to fight for. I'm not fighting for Mother Russia or the Ukraine. I'm fighting for us; for our survival. Russia and the Ukraine don't want us any more than the Germans do. When we have our own Jewish nation I'll be a partisan."

From that time forward they all spoke of themselves as guerrillas.

At night, it was still quite cool. During the days they could bathe in a nearby lake. It made them shiver, but still it was such pleasure. Until the spring thaw they hadn't known the lake was there, but thought the white expanse a snow covered clearing to be avoided at all costs, lest they or their tracks be seen from the sky. The lake's discovery was a pleasant surprise to all, not only for its beauty, but also for the abundance of fish, which added a variety to the otherwise limited and boring diet they'd tolerated.

Much of the depression, which had been suffocating them, melted away with the winter snows.

Sudden excitement, tinged with panic, spread through the family camp.

Ivan came from the second camp with news that he had Father Peter, Gregor, his entire family and seven other Kievites hidden in the forest. He wanted permission to take them to camp two. All were gentiles.

The catastrophic events of the Goering Squadron came to mind. Many wondered if the goyim hadn't betrayed the Jews. How could they be sure this wasn't another Nazi ploy? A command meeting was called immediately.

"Let me bring you up on all the facts," Ivan began. Father Peter came to me in the middle of the night-three nights ago. He had the others hidden in the woods near my farm. He told me they and he were all being sought for immediate arrest by the Germans. When I heard him out, I had no choice but to help them. For two days, I've kept to the woods. I backtracked a hundred times. I think if we'd been followed I'd have found it out. I'm asking your permission to bring them in."

"Let's say you weren't followed," Sol said, "how do we know they don't plan to signal the Germans somehow? I'm not too worried about the priest or Gregor's family, but what about the seven others? This is a hell of a departure from our security policy!"

"I know that," Ivan agreed. "I would never suggest we bring them in here. Camp two. Watch them there." He paused and then added, "I think Father Peter has earned your trust. A lot of these people would be dead now if it weren't for him. I know how some of you feel about Gregor and the mission he helped in, but I still feel if he had been a part of that disaster, the priest and I would have been arrested by now. If for no reason other than to be tortured to tell all we know."

The Jews considered.

"By the way," Ivan continued, "they've brought some valuable equipment with them. Three radios! For a change you won't be cut off from the rest of the world."

"Radios!" Moshe exclaimed. "That would be a godsend. How did they get radios?"

"Yes, how did they get radios?" Dovka asked suspiciously. "How can we be really sure one of them isn't working for the Germans? It would be a small price for the Nazis to pay to get us. Just give a collaborator a radio to gain our confidence, follow the goyim to our camp-and carry out the slaughter. I believe Father Peter is safe-I even think I trust Gregor and his family-but how do we know they haven't been fooled, too?"

"We can't be sure," Moshe said. "That is why we have to watch them closely and be on our guard. They could be a great asset to us if loyal. If not..."

"I think it better to watch them under our control," Sol interjected, "than have them fending for themselves in these woods. If they did something to bring the Germans down on themselves it might accidentally bring them across our trail, too."

"If it will add a little confidence," Ivan said, trying to add to the argument to bring them in, "I must tell you that Gregor warned that we could listen to the radios anywhere, but that we must never transmit messages from the proximity of our camp. He warned me that the Germans could locate us by our signals with a method called triangulation. Now does that sound like the warning of a Nazi collaborator? If he wanted to give our location to the Germans, sending messages from our headquarters would have been a perfect way."

Most agreed it was a favorable point, but skepticism still ran high in the group. "How do we know one of them won't radio the Germans directly of our positions?"

"Why are the Germans after them? How did they get the equipment and supplies? How did they get the radios? I think we need the answers to those questions before we make a decision," Solomon insisted.

"Father Peter told me he recently wrote to his superiors of the German atrocities," Ivan replied. "Especially of those carried out at Babi Yar. He pointed out that mass murder is going on there and that the Church in its silence is condoning the crime. He wrote that he could no longer sit by as if deaf and blind. Not to condemn the Nazis, he told them, is a sin of omission. He closed his letter by asking direction-asking direction for the second time, by the way." Ivan looked about at the still skeptical faces in the room. "Well, his reply came, opened by the Germans. Censored! But they let it go through to him. Father Peter realized that his letter to his superiors must have been opened, too. But the Germans had not yet made a move against him. Possibly they also were awaiting the Church's reply. Because of the reply ..., which pleased the Nazis, I'm sure-the Germans decided to hold off a little longer. After all, the priest's arrest might incite the members of his congregation."

"What was the reply?" Sol asked, hoping to get Ivan back to the subject.

"The gist of the letter was that Father Peter had already been informed of Church policy. They reminded him that his job concerned the religious needs of his parishioners, not the nation's political problems. As a crowning blow, it pointed out that deviation from policy might lead to German retaliation, from which the Church could not protect him. Also, his superiors threatened that if he deviated sufficiently from Church policy, he might be subject to punishment by the Church - even excommunication, if his actions warranted it."

The Jews understood what excommunication meant to a priest or any devout Catholic, for that matter. Ivan could see that the hard expressions of doubt were softening. He pressed his argument.

"I'm sure the reply satisfied the Nazis. I'm sure they decided just to watch Father Peter more closely, avoiding the problems his arrest might initiate. Anyway, Sunday the die was cast. In his sermon, Father Peter condemned the Nazis as murderers, not only of human beings, but also of civilization. He condemned the Church and the Holy See for disassociating themselves from morality and humanity. He called the Vatican 'the seat of world hypocrisy.' He called on his parishioners to strike out against the Nazis or be damned with them, for to be silent was to condone the horror."

The listeners felt Ivan's conviction and one by one they were swayed from their fears.

Father Peter told me he was awaiting his arrest when suddenly Gregor and several other of his parish came to his chambers. They'd met after the service, waited until the rest of the congregation left-and most left in one hell of a hurry! They then spirited him away before the Nazis returned to arrest him. To give themselves more time, one of them killed the German who sat in the congregation to watch each Sunday.

"Without waiting for his consent, they took him from the premises and hid him in the forest. It was then that Gregor, his family and the others decided they would try to find a partisan group to join. Each went to get what things he had that might be of value in the forests. They met back in the woods with their belongings to begin their new lives. Two days later, Father Peter contacted me to see if I would lead them to you."

"How did they get the radios?" Dovka questioned again, to keep the group from lowering their defenses.

"Yes," Moshe asked, "how did they come by those radios? It's an important point."

"Gregor and his father have-had the biggest blacksmith shop and foundry in Kiev. You who were hidden by them saw it. You'll also remember the Germans took some of their heavy equipment there for repairs. They've done it since the beginning of the occupation.

"When they decided to leave for the forests, Gregor and his brothers stripped the radios and generators out of three half track trucks that were in for welding. When they took all that they could carry, they put a torch to their home and their shops. A lot of German equipment and everything they owned went up in flames."

"Well, what do we do?" Moshe asked.

"I'm not convinced," Dovka announced. "What an opportunity for the Germans to get a spy to us. We must be very careful! We might be condemning those of us who move into camp two with them to death!"

It was a sobering statement.

"I trust them," Sol said. "But I agree we must be very careful. I would bring in Father Peter. I would bring in all their equipment and supplies. I would keep the rest of them in a new camp one, under tight surveillance. Supply them with what they need to live in camp one while they prove themselves to us. Then we bring them in to the family camp as we have always done with newcomers in the past. I will volunteer to live in camp one with them. All should be volunteers. There need to be enough of us to make it look the real camp to them."

It seemed the safest and most reasonable plan. The Jews agreed on it.

Solomon believed the newcomers were what they claimed, but still he wanted to devise a way to prove them safe. In two days or as soon as a new camp one was established, he would have to go along with a few others to spend a test period with the strangers. A camp one was always uncomfortable, primitive and unpleasant to live in. It was a frustrating dilemma that troubled him all day. After their evening meal, Rachel tried to distract Sol.

"You're trying too hard," she told him. "The solution will come to you if you relax and let it. It's a beautiful evening for a walk. Why don't you take me down to the lake? Let's forget the war and the Germans and all those other people for a while. Please, Solomon."

He agreed. She picked up a blanket and they walked.

The night was cool. A light breeze ruffled the small lake. There was neither moon nor clouds in the sky. The stars shone brightly. Sol pointed out the various constellations. He'd learned them as a boy from his older brother. It saddened him. "I guess as long as I can recall the stars and their names, a little of my brother will live on."

"Solomon, all of our past lives on in our memories," Rachel said softly. "It's an age old proverb that as long as you are remembered by someone, you have immortality."

"I guess that's so."

He lay flat on his back looking up, recalling nights many years past when his brother would show him the stars. He could always see the big and little dippers, but he could never even imagine all the other constellations. He distinguished the grouping said to be a bowman-he could find the stars, but no bowman.

Rachel lay on her side watching him. Suddenly, impulsively she rose up on her elbow, leaned over to him and kissed him on the lips.

Surprised, Sol lay rigid a moment before responding.

"There," she said. "I think that was long overdue!"

"Very long overdue," Sol agreed.

He kissed her and held her to him for a very long time. "Rachel, Rachel, is it possible that you feel as I do?"

"Only if you love me," she said almost teasingly.

Again there was a long silence as they held each other and kissed.

"Solomon, these are unusual times," she finally said. "It isn't good that we keep our feelings to ourselves. In our lives, where there is so much tragedy and terror-we need to express our love. We can't live on fear, hate and vengeance alone. When everything is so indefinite, we need to hold on to our love. It gives us one more thing to hope for."

"Oh Rachel, I do love you. God, I've wanted to say it a thousand times-but-well, I didn't know if you were ready to. After Avraham, I mean."

"We mustn't suppress our desires. The times do not allow us the luxury of long courtship. Time is too precious!"

"God knows how I've wanted to hold you, Rachel."

"We must express ourselves fully and without inhibition, Sol-my dear, dear Sol."

He wanted her, but he was shy. He pulled her very close again and held her.

"I want you, too, Sol. Want you-intimately."

She sensed his uneasiness. She took his hand and put it to her breast. Solomon felt helpless, almost terrified. He felt the fool. He'd heard other men and boys talk boastfully of their exploits with women, but he'd never had any experience like this himself. He'd always felt self conscious about it when among braggarts. Now he felt almost ashamed. What will she think of me? What am I to do now?