The Remnant - Stories of the Jewish Resistance in WWII (30 page)

Oberman loved this place. It fit his self image. By the time he and Eva had dinner and drinks and a walk in the gardens, they were ready to retire. With the drive up, it had been a full and tiring day and Oberman wanted to use what energies he had left for a prolonged evening of sexual pleasures. His holiday was already a success. Kiev, the war, the Jews-they were the furthest things from his mind.

Eva knew her part well, but for her it was not an act. She loved what she did best. If she could do it the way that excited her companion the most, it heightened her own pleasure. She had a knack for discovering what each of her suitors liked. Best of all she had no inhibitions preventing her from pleasing them. She even had a masochistic side to her that pleased many of the sadistic tastes of the German officers she knew.

Oberman sat down in an easy chair and lifted his leg toward Eva, her cue to start the ritual. She took his boot by the heel and with a giggle swung her own leg over his, showing as much thigh as she could in the move. This left her straddling Oberman's boot, holding the heel in her hands, her shapely posterior swaying before his eyes. Oberman placed his other boot on her backside and pushed until the boot she held came off, sending her sprawling onto the bed nearby showing as much of her thigh to Oberman as she could and still leaving something for the other boot. This brought a roar of laughter from Oberman and more giggles from Eva.

She repeated the procedure with the other boot, this time showing off as much of her inner thighs as she could when she fell. Again laughter! "And what do you see that is so interesting, you rascal?" she asked, displaying the fact that she wore no undergarments.

Oberman roared with laughter and drew his pistol and took aim at his target. "Bang, bang. Now you have a big hole there."

"The better to engulf you with," she said in a low, wolfish voice. She got up and unbuttoned his tunic, belts and shirt and removed them all. She pulled off his socks and left him sitting only in his trousers.

"Now I feel self conscious with all my clothes still on. What shall I do about that?" Without waiting for an answer, she moved about the room dropping her garments in the most seductive ways she could think up. Like a stripper dancing on a stage, bumping and grinding, responding to her audience's rising ardor. She ended up directly before him in a full display of her naked beauty.

"Eva, you are one of the few women I've ever known who is more beautiful naked than partially dressed."

"Oh, Hans, you say such sweet things. I'm happy you like what you see," she giggled coyly.

"Do what else I like to see!"

He became increasingly aroused as she performed every autoerotic act she could think of for him, pleasuring herself with every variety of self stimulation. When she sensed that he was eager for her touch, she removed the remainder of his clothing and stimulated him first manually, then orally. It took quite some time before they fondled and manipulated their way to the bed. There they tried every contortion imaginable. By 10:00 PM he cuddled up to the soft, warm buttocks of his sleeping bed partner, then dozed off.

"The water!" Oberman came to a sitting position as he shouted the words.

"My God - what is it, Hans?" Eva woke with a start.

"That's the answer! The water! Damn if it didn't come to me in my sleep. I'll get those bastards because they need water! My God, it's so obvious! How could I have missed it?"

He jumped from the bed with no further explanation to Eva. "Go back to sleep. I'm going to take a ride around the lake and think. It's a military problem and does not concern you. Sleep a few more hours; when I return we will go to breakfast."

Oberman was at the stables in fifteen minutes. He was given a fine animal-spirited and sleek. He was an excellent rider, having been taught as a child by his grandfather who had been a cavalry officer. It was early and he had the bridle path to himself. Spirited as it was, the horse knew that the man on its back would not be intimidated. It settled down to accepting Oberman's every subtle command. There was a chill and mist in the air-it would be the better part of an hour before the sun would burn it off. Oberman's mind was free.

He mentally went over the maps he had so thoroughly memorized, seeing them as if they were spread before him. Aloud he said to himself, "It has to work, I can't miss," "Those Jews have to live near water-and it must be a sizable source. Let me see," he said visualizing the maps. "There are one, two, three"-four, five-and there is a lake-six, seven-and another lake-"yes, that's it. I'm sure-two lakes and seven streams or rivers large enough to support a large band..." They have to be along one of them. "I've got them now!"

He thought it through again, smiling broadly. "Yes, by damn, I have them!"

As soon as he returned to his office, Oberman rechecked his maps. They were just as he'd recalled them. He sent for one of his lieutenants. In a few minutes a young, ruddy faced, blue eyed German entered the office. He snapped his heels smartly, extended his arm in a proper, "Heil Hitler! Lieutenant Meinhart reporting as ordered, sir."

"Heil Hitler; be at ease, Meinhart." Oberman paused. "Please sit down, Lieutenant. I have heard much about you. You are a very conscientious officer." He paused just long enough to see that his patronizing statement was sinking in. "I have a very important project-and I need a man with your qualifications."

"Thank you, sir. I try my best to do my duty for the Fuhrer."

"Meinhart, I want you to put together a mission for me and carry it out to the letter. There can be no blunders. If it is carried out properly, there will be a citation for you."

Meinhart's eyes lit up. Oberman knew they would.

"This operation is in two stages. The first stage will require seven small detachments, perhaps five men in each. They should be made up of Ukrainian or Polish collaborators and police. The second stage will depend on a large detachment of our finest men-as many as possible battle seasoned-perhaps two hundred-and well armed." Meinhart's eagerness could not be disguised, "I am honored, Major Oberman. I have been hoping for a chance like this-to serve my Fuhrer-to show what I can do. I will not let you down!"

"I know I have picked the best man for this important job. I knew it when I first heard of you. You are ambitious. That is nothing to be ashamed of. To me it means you will do this job right."

Oberman rolled out a map on his desk. He motioned Meinhart over. "Our objective is somewhere in this vast forested area. It is the headquarters of the most dangerous guerrilla group in the Kiev area. They have caused us more losses in men and equipment than all the other groups together. I estimate them to be at least two to three hundred strong."

Looking over the map, Meinhart asked, "What is your plan to flush them out, sir?"

"The first stage is to locate them. That is where the non German personnel will be used. To find the partisans we will have to sacrifice some of the men from the seven small detachments. They will be the Poles and Ukrainians-no great loss. Once we've located them-then the German troops must move in immediately before the guerrillas can escape."

Oberman took a pencil from his desktop. He motioned Meinhart to bend closer. "For a group as large as the one we are after, there must be a large water supply. We know they have been operating in the area for a long time. To me that means they have a permanent camp. That camp has to be near or on one of nine water sources."

With a broad motion, Oberman circled the area showing the potential sites. "You will note that in this area there are seven streams and two lakes that could support such a large group."

Meinhart leaned even closer to the map, squinting, concentrating, as Oberman paused to let him study each of those waterways. "Yes, they must be on one of those water supplies. But which one; and how will we send our troops there before they move out?"

"Ah, that's the beauty of my plan!" Oberman grinned with great satisfaction. "We send one detachment of Polaks and Ukrainians up each of the streams and to the lakes. We have our troops ready for instant mobilization. Each reconnaissance unit will carry a field radio on which they will transmit a password every ten minutes. Each will have its own codeword. They will transmit only that codeword, so if the partisans are monitoring us, they will not know what we are up to."

Meinhart straightened up. "I think I understand. When one of them stops transmitting, we will know the guerrillas have taken them and where."

"I knew I had the right man in you," Oberman replied. "If a detachment is killed or captured by the guerrillas, they will miss a code transmission. We'll know immediately which area to send our troops to and within a mater of minutes, they'll be mobilized."

"You realize the patrol won't have a chance to survive."

"That is why we send Slavs."

"When do we do this?"

"As soon as you and I have our details worked out. First of all, we have to determine the best way to transport the attack force. We must assume those J... those guerrillas are going to be in the most difficult area to reach. We'll have to move a lot of men and equipment through rough terrain in a hurry. And one thing for sure-I want every one of them wiped out. No prisoners!"

"Yes, that will set an example, of course."

"Yes, they'll be destroyed and buried in a mass grave right in their camp-and the camp will be leveled. Do you understand?"

"I'll work out every detail."

"Meinhart-make sure there is no room for error. Take the rest of the week if you must."

Meinhart left Oberman's office, his assignment uppermost in his mind. Oberman looked out of his window and saw what a sunny day it was. Enough work for today. He turned and headed out the door. As he passed the desk of his aid, he said, "Give me a blank sheet of paper."

The aid handed him a sheet of official letterhead and Oberman signed it on the bottom.

"There, now type up an order for a roundup in retribution for the train derailment last night. Pick a place where we can get about two hundred of these Ukrainian dogs. Just type it up above my signature and have the roundup taken care of today. Dispose of them in Babi Yar."

He left the building to spend the rest of his day at leisure.

Ivan and Sosha enjoyed the lovely day as they made their way into the city. They made the trip about once a week by horse cart to keep abreast of what was new in the occupation. "One could almost think there was no war on a day like this," Ivan said.

"It is beautiful today," she agreed as she looked up at the cloudless sky. The sun warmed her face and she remembered how it used to be to enjoy carefree days. A bird flew through her field of vision. "I wonder if birds know there is a war?"

Ivan looked at her and chuckled.

"I really mean it, Ivan. Do you think they know or sense a difference? After all, we share this place with them. We live in a hell on earth. Could they be indifferent to it? Are they disturbed by what we do to each other? Or are they in a world apart? If so I wish I could be a bird." Frivolous thoughts were a luxury and Sosha wanted to savor the mood.

Ivan remained silent, holding the reins out of habit, the horse making all of the important decisions of the morning. How much longer? He wondered. When will this horrible time pass? It seems an eternity since Sol came into our lives and brought the war with him. How will it all end? When?

A squirrel ran across the road ahead of the horse. The animals seemed to ignore each other completely. "Why can't people be like that?" Ivan said, nodding toward the squirrel as it vanished into the brush. "They live and let live. They only attack for survival, while man attacks for the sake of destruction-pure destruction."

"What?" Sosha asked. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"Nothing, it's not important."

It was midmorning when they approached Kiev. There didn't seem to be the usual turmoil as their horse took them to the marketplace by the route it knew so well. Everyone seemed affected by the weather. It was like that first day of sunshine after a dismal week of rain.

"We picked a good day to come to the city," Sosha said. "It was a lovely ride and the people will be in a mood to gossip."

Ivan was about to agree when he heard a commotion behind him. He started turning to look over his shoulder as a truck crossed the street and stopped in the intersection just ahead of them. Soldiers with machine guns jumped from the tailgate. Then he realized what the commotion behind them must be. "It's a roundup! Jump off the wagon and run back the way we came!" But he looked over his shoulder as he'd started to do a second earlier and lost all heart. "Dear God, we're caught!"

The street behind them was cordoned off.

All around them people were screaming, running for doorways that were barricaded and boarded up. The Germans, as usual, had chosen the site of the roundup well. The only escape was to charge the barricade and be shot. Some did just that. Gunners obligingly shot them down.

As things settled down, Ivan estimated that there were perhaps seventy people in the area. At precisely the same time, roundups were taking place in two other places just a block apart.

"Ivan, what can we do?"

"Stay with me, Sosha. If you see any chance at all for escape, tell me. But don't let us get separated-and don't do anything to draw their fire. Maybe they will interrogate us and let us go. Just keep your eyes open and be cautious."

The Germans advanced from both ends of the street. Ivan and Sosha climbed from the wagon. People were being herded into a compact group for easier control.

"Look, they're taking our wagon and horse!" Sosha exclaimed, watching soldiers lead the animal by his reins.

"Shh! There is nothing we can do about that. If all we lose today is our horse and wagon, I'll consider it a bargain."

The group was tightly crowded together. Two Germans with machine guns guarded them as two trucks pulled up. "Schnell! Hinein! Hurry, get in!" one of the Germans commanded gruffly.