The Remnant - Stories of the Jewish Resistance in WWII (38 page)

"Well, what have you heard from the Church? Will they let you keep the parish?"

Father Peter answered as he went to a shelf to take down two glasses, "I've heard nothing. I'm doing my work here. My parishioners need me, but I don't know if I'm working officially. I don't know if the Church wants me."

"They're noncommittal?"

Father Peter measured some tea into a perforated container. "They're silent!"

"What will you do?"

The priest sat down to wait for the water to boil. "I don't know. I can't go on like this much longer, though. Soon I'll have to make a decision." He paused. He looked sad, "But enough about me. What are your plans?"

Sol sat silently for a moment. He, too, looked sad. "I'm not sure either. I felt I had to come back here once more before I could decide anything. Don't ask me why? Kiev is as dead as my past. Still, where will I find it better? We Jews have had no real home since the year 70, when the Romans ran us out of Palestine."

"I remember you talked of going to Palestine when we were in the forests. What happened to that idea?"

"It died with-all the others. Things were different then." Sol choked up a little. The chinik began to whistle, signaling that it was ready. Father Peter busied himself finishing the tea. He let is steep as he brought the small pot to the table. Solomon slipped deep into his thoughts and the priest let him daydream while he tested the brew in his own glass. He let it steep a few moments more, then filled both glasses full.

Sol sipped. He still had to fight back tears whenever he thought of Rachel. "Things were different then," he repeated.

"Give yourself time. When the war is over, then it will change. The world will surely have learned a lesson." Father Peter didn't speak with full conviction.

"What I have seen and heard in the city since yesterday-well, I assure you not. At least not here."

"I've heard it, too, but things are still difficult now. When things improve, the atmosphere will be better."

"But we Jews can't go through life waiting for good times! We can't live in constant fear that hard times will return-because they always will. And there aren't enough of us left to withstand another pogrom."

"Pogrom, you can't believe that will ever happen again?"

"Pogroms are our destiny."

"If so, then all our struggles have been in vain."

Solomon answered dejectedly. "What is, was-what was, will be. It is our destiny."

Solomon stayed at the church with Father Peter.

Most Jews who returned to Kiev found the corners of destroyed buildings to dwell in. They lived in rubble while trying to reclaim, trying to start anew. As more and more Jews returned to the city, the anti-Semitism became more organized. Through some of the congregants of Father Peter's parish, Sol heard that a pogrom was actually being planned by a radical group of organized Jew haters.

"They intend to finish what Hitler started," Solomon told Father Peter.

"But they are a minority! The rest will not let it happen."

"Like they stopped the slaughter in Babi Yar?" Solomon snapped back.

Father Peter was stymied.

Sol continued, "A small minority is all it takes. Then the masses come out to see what's happening and the next thing you know there's a mob. The mob will kill. Once a pogrom starts, they don't care who they kill. The smell of blood makes them wild as a pack of dogs."

"I'll go to the commander of the city," the priest said. "I know him. Perhaps he'll help."

"I doubt it-he's a Russian."

"What else can I do?"

To Solomon's surprise the commandant was an understanding man. Furthermore, he was aware of the problem and had already taken steps to break up the threat. The pogrom did not materialize, but there were numerous incidents of confrontation and many fights, all spontaneous between individuals.

In September 1944, Father Peter received a letter from a priest he'd gone to school with. At the time Father Peter returned from his schooling to start his work, his friend took over a small parish in Polish Kielce. They had corresponded infrequently through the years. This was the second letter since the two cities' liberation. He let Solomon read that piece of mail in his rectory. From the letter Father Peter and Solomon discovered the relative good fortune of the Jews of Kiev.

In 1939, before the German occupation of Kielce, twenty five thousand Jews lived in that city. Like Kiev, Kielce was devoid of Jews at the time of its liberation. As in Kiev, a few Jews drifted back to the city that had been their home. Only two hundred returned from the forests, from the interior of Russia and from cheating the death camps. But even two hundred were too many for the Polish anti-Semites. When the Jews tried to reorganize their community the Jew haters also organized. Their efforts culminated in a full blown pogrom. Jews who survived the Nazi occupation died at the hands of Poles who also thought the Germans were inhuman animals.

"You see? Nothing has changed," Solomon said shaking his head dejectedly. "It's not only here in Kiev or in the Ukraine. It's everywhere in Europe and Russia! We'll never be free as long as we have no country of our own."

"Solomon, my dear friend, I fear you're right," Peter admitted.

Over the next few months into 1945, conditions grew worse for the Jews of Poland, the Ukraine and in the liberated areas of Europe. There were few left after the Holocaust, but their minority position only encouraged harassment. Father Peter's disillusionment with the Church was deepened. He could get no meaningful response from anyone.

"They'll make no commitment until the war is completely over," Solomon kept saying, "Though to tell the truth, I can't believe they could still think about a Nazi counteroffensive anymore."

"I just don't understand it," Father Peter said. "But I know I can't continue like this. Even if I get Church support, I'll no longer respect the hierarchy. Such hypocrisy! Too much has happened. Too much has changed."

"What else can you do?"

"I can teach. I could teach history. I would like teaching. But that has its problems, too."

"Which are?"

"I certainly could not teach in a communist state." Father Peter shook his head and laughed bitterly. "I am still Catholic. I can't give that up!" He paused, "I'm intolerant of both and for the same reason. The Church and communism-they both make the same intolerable demands of dogma!"

"What if you were to move to a non-Communist country?"

"I have considered it. A big step, there are language problems-and I would have to leave everyone I know."

"Have you ever thought of going to Palestine?" Sol asked.

"You mean on a pilgrimage? Of course."

"No, I mean to stay!"

"To stay? Of course not!"

"Well, think about it now. After all, your faith began there! Surely there must be opportunities for a man like you-to teach-to do research-to write... I think it might be your answer!"

By the time the war ended in mid 1945, the idea of leaving totally absorbed Father Peter. He'd talked it over with his friends and several reluctantly agreed he should make the move. Father Peter would accompany Solomon to Palestine.

The first problem facing them was getting out of the Ukraine. Exit visas were not easy to come by. Even applying for one was risky because it alerted authorities and put one on a list of possible enemies of the state. Finally, Father Peter and Sol agreed to slip out of the country secretly. One advantage they had was that much of the country was in transit. Soldiers and refugees were returning, displaced persons were trying to find places to settle. The Jew and the priest joined the flow of transients toward the border towns of the Ukraine.

They made for the mountain town of Glybokaya in the south. From there, they crossed the border at night to the Romanian Mountain town of Putna. Father Peter had several priest acquaintances, friends who willingly helped them to cross the country. Security was not strict and they had no problem getting into Hungary.

As they traveled west, the number of people in transit increased and security was even more lax. The two men traveled now as priests-as members of the clergy, they escaped scrutiny. They left Hungary and crossed into Austria under the protection of the forests. Once in Austria, they considered their problems behind them.

The first thing they did was present themselves at the headquarters of the U.S. and British occupation forces. They had no difficulty proving their identities from papers they had brought with them out of the Ukraine. They were given asylum when they announced they were defecting. They received new papers allowing them to stay in the west, work permits and a list of all available aid societies that had been set up for refugees and displaced persons. They were sent to a special office for those who wanted to resettle in other countries of the non-Communist world. Austria was the major staging area for resettlement.

"Your papers, please," the official requested, "You want to go to Palestine? You wish to live in the Holy Land, Father?"

"Yes, we seek a new life in the place of our beginnings," Father Peter replied as he handed the man his own and Solomon's papers.

"Let's see-you're from the Ukraine-the Kiev district. That should be no problem. We have few requests from Ukrainians to enter Palestine. The quota should be far from filled." He searched a loose-leaf book before continuing. It contained columns of countries and figures. "Ah, here it is. Oh my, they have never filled their quotas. Since the war not even two percent of it. You'll have no problem at all." The man seemed to develop an immediate rapport with the priest and addressed all his comments to him. Father Peter took over the role of spokesman.

The official took some papers from a drawer in his desk and handed them to Father Peter. "Each of you must fill out one of these forms completely-accurately-then bring them back to me. We'll process you together so you won't be separated."

"Thank you," Sol replied. "You're a great help. I never dreamed it would be so easy."

The form asked a multitude of questions: date of application, place of birth, date of birth, family name, given name, middle name, father's name, mother's maiden name, citizenship, race, religion, education, profession, skills, political convictions, criminal history. There was a section on health history, family history, personal history and a section on the whys of wanting to resettle.

When both he and Solomon finished the chore, Father Peter gathered all the papers and returned to the room where "their" official worked. He'd just finished a family group, so he turned his attention immediately to Father Peter and Sol.

"Ah, you are finished. Let me see your forms. This is only the first in a tedious series of steps, but it is the most important of all-and if it's not properly done you'll have difficulties later." He scrutinized each form, point by point and gave an affirmative nod after almost each item. He mumbled, "Fine-fine-very good-fine..." intermittently and, "Seems in order..." and initialed each page in the proper box-until he came to one answer on Solomon's. His face grew stern.

"Oh my!" he shook his head, reopening his book of countries and figures, "Oh dear me!" He turned a few more pages and checked in another place. "This presents a problem. Mr. Shalensky-being with the priest, I assumed-well-I assumed you were with him."

"I am!" Sol said with some irritation.

"Well, yes, of course. But I mean to say, of his religion-aaaah-his religious conviction."

"What are you getting at?" Father Peter demanded.

"Well, Father Rochovit, Mr. Shalensky comes under another quota list. It is the way the British have set up the quota. Jews are under a different quota listing!"

"What are you saying? We are Ukrainian! We are both from Kiev!" Father Peter was almost shouting. "You yourself said the Ukrainian quota was far from filled!"

"For Ukrainians, yes, but not for Jews. I am truly sorry, but I have no control over the matter. Jews are under a separate quota system. The British will not let you in, Mr. Shalensky. The Jewish quota is small ...filled-and the waiting list is very long."

Solomon was disappointed, angry, but not surprised. "It is as I said, nothing has changed. We are separate in the eyes of the non-Jewish world. You distinguish between Ukrainians and Ukrainian Jews. The Nazis did, too."

"I don't," the official quickly pointed out, "the system does. Your friend can be on his way within the week-but you-as a Jew-well, that will take a long time, I'm afraid."

"Just how long, specifically how long?" Solomon demanded.

Father Peter couldn't restrain himself any longer. "This is not possible!" he shouted. "We-the whole damned world just suffered a war because of this same bigoted attitude and you have the audacity to..."

Solomon put his hand firmly on Father Peter's shoulder to calm him and redirected his question to the intimidated official, "How long?"

"They take a few thousand a year," the man shrugged. "And the waiting list seems endless."

"My God! What madness this is!" Father Peter raged. "It's the Jews who need the refuge of Palestine! There is no place for them in Europe or Russia. I can go there-I who could go anyplace-and the Jews who have nowhere... Now the British tell them they can't enter Palestine? What are they to do?"

The official's face colored. "There are displaced person's camps where they will be taken care of until something can be worked out."

"Displaced person's camps? Something worked out?" the priest screamed.

"Please, I understand that you are upset, Father..."

"You understand?" Solomon interrupted, "you don't understand shit!" He leaned across the official's desk and looked him straight in the eyes. "How long will it take the non-Jewish world to learn? It's quite obvious why we no longer want to stay in Germany, Austria, Poland or the Soviet Union. How can anyone ask us to stay where our families were butchered, gassed and burned-turned into soap and fertilizer-their corpses raped of gold teeth and hair to further the economy of what you called civilized nations? You're shocked that the Nazis could have done such things-but there are an awful lot of you who are at the same time sorry the job wasn't finished!"