Once again, he breaks the food into small pieces to make it easy for the girls to hide and pass around. Oh, how he hopes they will be discreet. The consequences if they aren’t don’t bear thinking about. He saves a small amount of the sausage for Block 7. The ‘tools down’ siren interrupts his obsessive efforts to ensure each piece of food is exactly the same size. He throws everything into his bag and hurries towards the Canada.
Not far from the women’s compound, Lale catches up with his two friends. They see him coming and slow their pace, dropping back into the mob of girls trudging ‘home’. He holds the food bundles in one hand, the open bag in the other, and nudges his way through the girls. Without looking at him, each girl drops something into his bag and he in turn presses the food into their hands, which they shove up their sleeves. Lale and the girls split away from each other at the entrance into the women’s compound.
Lale doesn’t know what he will find in the four pieces of rag that he places on his bed. He opens them gently. They contain coins and notes of Polish zloty, loose diamonds, rubies and sapphires, gold and silver rings emblazoned with precious stones. Lale steps back, knocking into the door behind him. He is recoiling from the sad provenance of these objects, each one attached to a momentous event in the life of its previous owner. He is also scared for his own safety. If he is discovered with this bounty, he will surely be put to death. A noise outside makes him throw the jewels and currency back in his bag and himself on his bed. No one comes in. Eventually he rises and takes his bag with him towards his evening meal. In the canteen he doesn’t place his bag at his feet as usual, but clings to it with one hand, trying not to look too strange. He suspects he fails.
Later that night he separates the precious stones from the money, the loose gems from the jewellery, wrapping them separately in the rags they came in. The majority of the loot he pushes under his mattress. He keeps a loose ruby and a diamond ring in his bag.
?
At seven the next morning, Lale hangs around the main compound gates as the local workers enter. He sidles up to Victor and opens his hand to reveal the ruby and the ring. Victor closes his hand over Lale’s in a handshake, palming the jewels. Lale’s bag is already open and Victor quickly transfers some packages into it. Their alliance is now sealed.
Victor whispers, ‘Happy New Year.’
Lale trudges away, the snow now falling heavily and covering the camp. 1943 has begun.
Chapter 7
Though it is bitterly cold and the compound is a mess of snow and mud, Lale is upbeat. It is a Sunday. Lale and Gita will be among the brave souls walking in the compound, in the hope of a fleeting meeting, a word, a touch of the hand.
He is pacing, on the lookout for Gita as he attempts to keep the cold from his bones. He walks in front of the women’s camp as often as he can without raising suspicion. Several girls come from Block 29, but no Gita. Just as he is about to give up, Dana appears, scanning the compound. Spotting Lale, she hurries over.
‘Gita’s sick,’ she says as soon as she’s in earshot. ‘She’s sick, Lale. I don’t know what to do.’
His heart lurches to his throat in panic as he remembers the death cart, the close call, the men who nursed him back to health. ‘I have to see her.’
‘You can’t go in – our kapo is in a terrible mood. She wants to call the SS and have them take Gita away.’
‘You can’t let them. You mustn’t let them take her. Please, Dana,’ says Lale. ‘What’s wrong with her? Do you know?’
‘We think it’s typhus. We’ve lost several girls in our block this week.’
‘Then she needs medicine, penicillin.’
‘And where are we gonna get medicine, Lale? If we go to the hospital and ask for penicillin, they’ll just take her away. I can’t lose her. I’ve lost all my family. Please can you help us, Lale?’ Dana pleads.
‘Don’t take her to the hospital. Whatever you do, don’t go there.’ Lale’s mind races. ‘Listen to me, Dana – it’s going to take me a couple of days but I’m going to try and get her some penicillin.’ A numbness sweeps over him. His vision blurs. His head pounds.
‘Here’s what you have to do. Tomorrow morning take her, however you can – carry, drag, whatever – but take her to the Canada. Hide her there among the clothes in the day, try and get as much water into her as you can, then bring her back to your block for rollcall. You might have to do this for a few days until I can get medicine, but you must do it. It’s the only way to stop her being taken to the hospital. Now go and look after her.’
‘All right, I can do that. Ivana will help. But she must have medicine.’
He grips Dana’s hand. ‘Tell her …’
Dana waits.
‘Tell her I will take care of her.’
Lale watches Dana run back into her block. He can’t move. Thoughts creep into his head. The death cart he sees every day – Black Mary, it’s called – she cannot end up on there. That must not be her fate. He looks around at the brave souls who have ventured outside. He imagines them dropping into the snow, and lying there, smiling up at him, thankful that death has taken them from this place.
‘You cannot have her. I will not let you take her from me,’ he calls.
Prisoners move away from him. The SS have chosen to stay inside on this bleak, dark day and soon Lale finds himself alone, paralysed by cold and fear. Finally he begins to move his feet. His mind rejoins the rest of his body. And he stumbles back to his room and collapses on his bed.
?
Daylight creeps into his room the next morning. The room feels empty, even of him. Looking down from above, he does not see himself. An out-of-body experience. Where have I gone? I have to come back. There’s something important for me to do. The memory of yesterday’s meeting with Dana jolts him back to reality.
He grabs his bag, his boots, throws a blanket around his shoulders and runs from his room to the front gates. He doesn’t check who is around. He must get to Victor and Yuri immediately.
The two men arrive with others in their detail, sinking into the snow with each step they take towards work. They see Lale and move away from the others, meeting him halfway. He shows Victor the gems and the currency in his hand, a small fortune’s worth. Everything he has he drops into Victor’s bag.
‘Penicillin or something similar,’ Lale says. ‘Can you help me?’
Victor places his packages of food into Lale’s open bag and nods his head. ‘Yes.’
Lale hurries over to Block 29 and watches from a distance. Where are they? Why haven’t they appeared? He paces up and down, oblivious to the eyes in the towers surrounding the camp. He must see Gita. She has to have made it through the night. Finally he sees Dana and Ivana, Gita hanging weakly from their shoulders. Two other girls help to block the scene from easy view. Lale drops to his knees at the thought this could be the last time he sees her.
‘What are you doing down there?’ Baretski appears behind him.
He staggers to his feet. ‘I was feeling sick, but I’m OK now.’
‘Maybe you should see a doctor. You know we have several at Auschwitz.’
‘No, thanks, I’d rather ask you to shoot me.’
Baretski withdraws his pistol from its holster. ‘If this is where you want to die, T?towierer, I would be happy to oblige.’
‘I’m sure you would, but not today,’ Lale says. ‘I take it we’ve got work to do?’
Baretski holsters his gun. ‘Auschwitz,’ he says, as he begins walking. ‘And take that blanket back to where you found it. You look ridiculous.’
?
Lale and Leon spend the morning at Auschwitz, tattooing numbers on frightened newcomers and attempting to soften the shock of it. But Lale’s mind is on Gita and several times he presses too hard.
In the afternoon, when the job is finished, Lale half walks, half runs back to Birkenau. He meets Dana near the entrance to Block 29 and gives her all his rations from breakfast.
‘We made a bed for her out of clothing,’ Dana says as she folds the food into makeshift shirt cuffs, ‘and we fed her water from pieces of snow. We took her back to the block this afternoon, but she’s still in a really bad way.’
Lale squeezes Dana’s hand. ‘Thank you. Try and get some food into her. I’ll have medicine tomorrow.’
He departs, his mind a whirlpool. I barely know Gita, yet how can I live if she does not?