The Night Before Dawn
The following is a concoction of facts and author’s imagination, with the lead character being entirely fictional.
PROLOGUE
Linz, Austria
1877
“Where’s my father?”
An innocent eight year old boy asked his mother for the umpteenth time, embittered by the constant teasing at school by his classmates. Mother always said he was in faraway country earning money so that they could have a good life. But he sensed a bitter truth behind his mother’s delusional claims.
“I’ve told you he’s away earn-”
“I know that is a lie. The other day David’s mom told him not to be friends with me ‘cause my father ran away on us. I don’t have any friends at school. The kids run away from me.” He was not backing out today.
“They’re all a bunch of Jewish liars. That’s what they are. And you’re better off on your own than befriending those rascals.”
“Fine! I am not going to school anymore.” He paced toward his room throwing his bag in the hallway.
As time passed by, he learnt to live outside community by keeping his sentiments at bay only to unleash the amassing resentment someday. He spent his leisure time reading books. He loved reading about visionaries especially extremists who made an impact on the society. He was deeply inspired by Karl Marx and his philosophy of communism.
When he was fourteen, his mother died in a warehouse where she worked in a fire that had spread as a result of the owner Edgar Wurtz’s certain disregard for safety measures. He went and lashed out at him and even slapped him on the face but outnumbered by his men, he was beaten to unconsciousness.
He would not forget his childhood for the rest of his life. He would avenge every abuse ever thrown at him. Edgar Wurtz would have to pay for his sin. And so did the world. But first, he had to find the man who could have changed everything about it if he’d wanted to. He had to find his father at any cost.
* * * *
Dresden, Germany
1918-1922
The past is what shapes the person you are today. One always wonders if life would be any better, had they done things differently or made decisions they were too scared to make in the past. If so, to what extent? Or would it be worse? The thought goes deeper, the imagination wider and the argument, beyond infinity and all you can do is hope that time travel was more than just a geek’s interpretation of ‘sweet dreams’.
Marcus Wexler had one such incident, which changed the way he thought about life and about his own self. It had made him a guilt-ridden coward or so was the denouement of his constant introspection. The memory of that petrified kid still haunted him.
The world was still getting over the first global man-made bloodshed, which had ramifications involving shrinking and expansion of international borders and an inclement Treaty of Versailles thrust upon his motherland. When put into the bigger picture, his share of loss reduced to nothing more than a dot the size of an amoeba. Namely, a martyred father, Jonathan Wexler, who had been a German war veteran in the uniforms of the Albertstadt. For him it meant the end of the world. Having never seen his mother’s face except in an old photograph, it was a bit too much to sink in a heart which had been beating for only six years. It left him with his old grandmother. With no other immediate relatives, she was his last caretaker. He was the last Jewish member in the bloodline. Time will tell whether or not that would ever change for good.
As introvert as he was, the only person he talked to besides his grandmother was Anne Strathe, a girl his age who lived in the neighbourhood, his only companion for playing in the park in the evening. Waldpark was a perfect place to escape from the harsh reality and sitting right in the lap of nature on the banks of the beautiful Elbe River. It was one of the major attractions in Blasewitz, the district where he lived. The beautiful pine trees which covered the area of the entire park were a rare sight to behold those days in Dresden. While the other kids had never noticed him, Anne had. He instantly knew she was different the first time she came to him, while he sat in a lonely corner watching fish in the pond. She had asked him why he always chose to be alone when he could go play with the other kids. He didn’t reply. He merely gave her a look and carried on with his thoughts. What happened next only made him more uncomfortable. Silently she sat beside him. After a small pause, she started talking about fish. Something about how the ones in the aquarium were different from the ones which are edible. And she went on and on. Topics shifted from fish to family to everything. He didn’t look at her but he listened to everything. Somehow it felt better than just sitting there all by himself. For the first time in days he had smiled. “Thank you!” was all he said. And then it was her turn to smile back. Even grandma was curious about what made those ever so still lips widen that day.
Till that day he went to the park just for the sake of it. After, he started feeling the urge to go there. Everyday was like a new leaf of spring. Listening to her speak, how she ditched the punishments at school by making fresh excuses, how she gave the boys a run for their money and how after all this, she still managed to get best grades always made him smile and laugh like never before. She taught him to be happy. Sometimes she even made him talk; about his school, his family. Even he didn’t know when was the last time that he had talked so much with someone.
One such day as they sat talking and ran out of words, she said,
“I brought something. Look!”
And she pulled out an ancient tiny pen-knife. He looked curiously.
She stood up and walked toward the giant pine tree nearby. He was still clueless.
“Come here!”
He followed the order. “What are you doing?”
“Here. Carve your initials over here.”
“What? Why?”
“Just do it. I’ll tell you in a while. Quickly now.”
“Er..alright.”
He carved a decently readable MJW where she had pointed.
“Good. Now give it to me.”
He handed over the knife to her. She put her initials below his. AS. She looked at him. He smiled.
“What’s the date today?” She asked.
“November 5th.” He replied. He almost knew what she’d do next. And he was right. She wrote 11-05-1922 just below the names.
“Now, whenever you come here and you don’t find me here, put the date on the tree. That way I’ll know when you were here. And same goes for me.”
“Alright. You’re a genius, you know that?”
“Just read a lot of stories. Here, keep this.” She gave him the pen-knife. “If there’s a war next time around, use it to avenge your father’s death. You can hide it in your shoe. Let me show you how.”
“I can undo my shoes myself.”
“I know." She pulled his right shoe off. She cut a small slit inside and slid the knife into it. “Your enemies won’t have a clue.”
“Sure they won’t. Incredible!”
It had started snowing heavily lately. Winter was at its peak. They had got vacation from the school. So they went to the park in mornings. One such morning Marcus made it a little early to their spot. Instead of sitting and waiting he decided to look for a hiding place and catch her off-guard. So he crouched behind the bushes beside the giant pine tree and waited. It was a while before she came. He was all set to jump out when-
“Where’s your Jewish friend?” A man roughly in his late forties came into view. Marcus decided to wait.
“Who are you?” She was scared. The man looked kind of scary, like a beast.
“You answer my question and I’ll let you go.”
“What will you do to him?”
He held her jaws and pulled her near. Marcus could feel it. The beast was hurting her.
“Do not try my patience little girl. Tell me where he is.” Now he was squeezing her jaws. Marcus badly wanted him to stop. He knew he could make it stop. But he was too scared to go out.
“I don’t know!!” Tears were flowing out of those beautiful green eyes.
SLAP! And down she went on the ground. Her left cheek bore reminiscence of a mighty blow. The beast picked her up. Same position again.
“Tell me or you’ll beg for your death.” Marcus had to do something. He decided to go out. He almost stood up.
“Go away or I’ll start screaming.” He just could not do it. His face was wet with sweat and tears. He just sat there. He wished he would die that very instant.
“You dare threaten me?” SLAP. Her face was all red now. “HELP!!” she cried at the top of her voice.
“HELP!”
Distant footsteps were closing in. The beast sensed that. Even as she tried to yell again, WHAM! He connected the toe of his boot to the back of her head. She collapsed there. He picked her up and ran away. Marcus was still hoping that it wasn’t real, that none of it had happened, that it was a nightmare. But to his sheer dismay, it was all real.
It was quite sometime before he finally came out of his hole. People had gathered around. They were asking questions. He didn’t even tell them the truth. He said he saw a man run away with a girl in his hands. He was a coward. Finally he had realised that. It was all because of him, that she had to suffer. The beast had come for him, not her.
A few weeks later while he was returning from school, Marcus saw a crowd swarmed outside Anne’s house. Even grandma was there. When asked what was all that about she said that Anne had returned. He was excited to see her and at the same time afraid what she’ll think of him. He could have prevented it all from happening but he didn’t. When asked how grandma said she somehow managed to cut off the ropes she was tied with when the monster was asleep, and ran away. The police followed her lead and the beast was caught. His name was Louis Cherrigsblack. He was a soldier by profession, serving the Albertstadt Garrison. He was arrested once for child molesting but was freed on the account of war. Marcus barely knew what the former term meant but he was sure it was something bad. Grandma said Anne had been mentally and physically harassed. It was all in the papers next day. The inhumane creature would spend some good time in prison, it was written. As grandma read to him, he was also an anti Semitic. Marcus wondered whether his father had known him. After all he seemed to know Marcus. Where’s your Jewish friend? Or how else would he know they were Jewish? He considered asking his grandma, but later he thought better of it. There was no immediate threat anyway.
1922-1930
No matter how hard he tried to see her, it was not to be. Every time he knocked on her door, her mother would say ‘She can’t see you now’ and shut the door on him. She stopped going to school. A few days later, in his last desperate attempt he came to know she was going to her aunt’s to study there. He didn’t get to say a last good bye. Occasionally he would go to Waldpark, sit under that pine tree and put the date on it hoping against hope that someday she will come back. Eventually he accepted the harsh truth and stopped going there.
Everything was going well. He was getting good grades in school, grandma was fighting old age quite bravely and Germany was coming out of the war. There were brief golden periods in terms of arts and cultural development despite the economic imbalance. The extremists were kept at bay, despite all their attempts to destroy the Reichstag and take over the country. A noted young extremist in Adolf Hitler and his attempt to take seizure over the Reichstag were neutralised when he was arrested in April 1924. All was well except Marcus was barely alive, emotionally. He wouldn’t talk to anybody except his grandma. Even at school teachers complained about this. He had no friends. He didn’t go out of the house except for school and when grandma needed groceries and supplies. Somehow, that memory always held him back. He had made up his mind that this was the only way to redeem himself. A punishment well deserved, he thought.
School was almost over and it was time to ponder over further studies. The funds his father left him weren’t enough for studying in a decent university in the country and the religious discrimination had started in murmurs. The extremists were openly blaming Jews for losing the war. They had started gathering followers. So, as grandma agreed, he decided to apply to Warsaw University. He wanted to study literature and his school performance was more than enough to land him an admission there. As predicted his application was accepted. Grandma made him promise he’ll make at least one good friend there. He couldn’t say no.
Before leaving for Warsaw, he made one final visit to Waldpark. Even as he reached the pine tree, he felt a huge galaxy sized void inside him. He closed his eyes and gently caressed his fingers over the scribbling AS. He almost felt her around him for a moment. Then he took out the pen-knife and made that day’s entry below a series of dates still waiting to see a hint of that red head and those beautiful pair of emerald eyes.
Warsaw, Poland
Post 1930
After completing the formalities, Marcus went out looking for a place to live. He had already tracked down some economical places with some help from the locals. He started with the closest one to the university in the district of Wola. It was a nice little place, neat masonry on the outside, an old fashioned wrought iron entrance leading through lush green lawns to the veranda. It looked expensive, even for a paying guest, to say the least. Even so, he decided to give it a try. To his delight he found it reasonably affordable. And the people there were nice too. They were a Jewish family, Mr and Mrs Zamenhof and their two year old daughter, Dana. Marcus’ room was just beside Dana’s. Dana was a sweet little kid. She’d gotten used to him instantly. Every time she saw him in the alleyway she’d hang herself on one of his legs and he had to carry her to her destination, which sometimes didn’t exist, not in the real world at least. Mrs Zamenhof had insisted he had all his meals with them without any addition to the rent. And hesitantly though, Marcus had agreed. Mr Zamenhof was a doctor by profession and Mrs Zamenhof was a housewife. It was as good as second home for Marcus. Now all he needed was a friend. If it wasn’t for grandma’s promise, he wouldn’t care for that too.
At the university, he was the same old Marcus of Dresden, never talking to anyone except when it was a matter of life and death. Making a friend seemed impossible as already groups had started forming and Marcus did not yet know anybody there. Still he kept looking for someone like him who liked keeping things to himself. A she was a strict no-no for him; still he kept the window open for desperate times. Classes seemed to interest him a lot. He tried hard not to miss any. His classmates were mostly Polish, so he didn’t interact much with them either.
One day he was surfing for books on medieval literature (he had to submit an essay) in the library. Ancient Greek Literature, Ancient Arts, Medieval Arts. May be next section. He turned back to search the next shelf and CRASH! A corner of a hard bound book on the top of a dozen other books (must have been) almost pierced his left eye. An instinctive retreat saved him or else he would have to don a pirate look for the rest of his life.
“I AM SO SORRY! Are you hurt?” She raised concerns even as the stack of books she was carrying crumbled down to the floor.
“Yes, I think it will take some time to open.” Just then, “I’ve seen..er ..ANNE?”
“Its Ester. Ester Nathan.”
“But of course,” he said, one hand still covering his eye, as he realised she was a brunette and had black eyes. But for a moment he could have sworn it was her. His only memory of looking at a girl was with Anne; may be that was the reason he reacted the way he did. “Marcus Wexler.”
“Let me see how bad it is.”
“No, I am fine.”
“I know you are a man. Now let me see.” And her face was right over his. “Oh dear, it’s all red.” She took out her handkerchief and did that blow-it-warm-and-gently-place-
“Any better?”
“Loads. Good Lord, it was worth getting hurt.” Why on earth did I ever say that?
She chuckled. “Next time I’ll hit harder. You haven’t seen the best of me yet.”
He smiled. She was something. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The barrier was broken again. Or was it?
“So they do have smart folks here in Poland, eh?” He just wanted to keep talking.
“I guess so. And thank you, but I am from Frankfurt. There they’re modestly smart.”
“Oh, I can see that.” I’ve got to stop myself. This is not good.
“So what are you studying here?”
“Er.. Literature. You?”
“Life Sciences.”
He picked up a random book from the shelf.
“Ah, found it. I guess I should get going. I’ve got to finish this essay.”
By the look of it, she never expected this. Why would she? She must have thought him to be crazy.
“Yeah, sure. See you around then.”
“Sure.”
Later that evening as he wondered if he had acted a little weird at the library, he stumbled upon the same conclusion time and again. This was the closest he’d come to fulfilling the promise he made to grandma. He should give it a try at least. After all, what had his isolation yielded him so far? Nothing. Deep down he was the same scared kid. Nothing had changed. May be this was his chance to change, his way to redemption. So, he decided to gamble. ‘Just friends’. He made it strictly clear in his mind.
It was not hard to find Ester, now that she’d been a premier subject of his thoughts. In fact, she found him; again in the library. He had gone to return that ‘random’ book and get the actual book. Just when he was standing in the queue at the return counter,
“Done with the essay, are we? You’re quick!” Out of nowhere she’d appeared.
“I..er..well, you know what they say. I judged the book by its cover. Never do that.” Well that saved him for now, or so he thought.
“Oh, so you’re a what’s-inside-matters idealist. I like that. Wish you were our Fuhrer.” So much for making a friend. He wondered if he was better without one.
“As flattered as I am, believe me, had you known me for a long time, you wouldn’t say so.”
“Oh really now? Then I would like to be that person and prove you wrong.”
They were walking out of the library, lost in a conversation which apparently, was never going to end.
“You really know how to talk, don’t you?” He said, stuck in the battle between his heart and brain.
“And you know how to make people talk. It’s getting cold out here. Would you by any chance care for a coffee?”
“Well,” he could end it right there. To hell with making friends. But then as he looked at her curious face, still hoping to hear a yes, he decided against it.
“Sure.”
He could tell that very day, when he agreed for the coffee, that this moment would come. And how right was he. Spot on. It had been two years since that day. A few months remained to the end of their stay in Poland. Not a moment passed when he didn’t think of her. He’d even invited Ester to the Zamenhofs’ that year for Hannukah on their insistence to bring a friend over for dinner. Everyone, including Dana had raised eyebrows when they came to know it was a girl. Ever since that day they’d started teasing him about her. Even Dana caught him smiling on his own at times. As he had guessed, Ester was Jewish. So there were no issues there. He had to do it before the end of that term. His future was more or less secure. His lifelong dream of becoming a writer was coming true. A Jewish press in Dresden had accepted his application for a reporter. Meanwhile he had to deal with the downhill side of events too. Grandma had died in a heart-attack. With that the last trace of his family was erased from the present to be written into history. It was a mighty blow. All the more reason to do it. And he did it; in hackneyed fashion and simple words, he asked her to marry him. She agreed. How couldn’t she. She even agreed to move to Dresden. He couldn’t be happier. Only for fate and time to decide that!
Dresden, Germany
1934-38
Everything had changed in Dresden. An air of anti Semitism could be felt there. After the death of President Paul von Hindenberg, the National Socialist German Workers’ Party or more famously the Nazi Party was in total command now. The office of chancellor was combined with president and Adolf Hitler was made the Fuhrer of the Third Reich with absolute powers. What was just an idea years ago could now be heard in more than just murmurs and whispers. Inspired by Benito Mussolini and his Fascist policies or so said the rumours, the Fuhrer Adolf Hitler had already started the chants of ‘The Final Solution’ blaming the Jewish people for losing the war and obliging by the treaty of Versailles. It all started in April the previous year, when the Nazis organised a national boycott of Jewish based business and the first anti Jewish laws were passed. One could only imagine the inception of this idea into the Fuhrer’s brain. Nevertheless, Marcus knew his freedom and rights were short lived now. But he knew this phase would pass. He knew it had to end. The only question was whether or not he had the patience and grit to endure the wrath of the Nazis and yet somehow manage to come out of it alive. It was a daunting task. He had no choice. He couldn’t flee from his motherland. The same country, for which his father had sacrificed, was now turning against him and his religion. And there was little he could do about it. On the backdrop of all this he still had hopes, that he would see Ester again. He hadn’t heard from her ever since Poland. Still he knew she would come. She was his silver lining, she had to come.
Now that the Nuremberg Laws had been passed (stripping Jews of German citizenship), the Jewish press he got job at had been forced shut. With nothing to do all day, every breath seemed to be his last even as the news radio broadcasted an increasing number of Jewish deaths everyday. The discrimination was a nation-wide pandemic now. The drugstores, groceries, shops wouldn’t trade with or sell to Jews. Some, because they wanted to see them suffer whereas most did so under the fear of the government. Fortunately, a Jewish store owner by the name of Rudolph Bauer from whom grandma used to get supplies and groceries had illegally stocked supplies in abundance and was grateful enough to sell undercover to Jews at reasonable prices. Only getting to him was a tough task. He appeared for once or twice a month only to go underground again till the next sell-out.
It was early February in 1936. Marcus was getting thinner and paler every passing second. Holing himself up in his house for weeks at stretch wasn’t helping at all. It was at the end of one such run. It was two weeks before that he’d gone out of the house. He felt a strong urge to get some fresh air. It was almost late dusk and he decided to stroll a little when most Germans would be busy entertaining themselves. He put on his winter coat and slowly got out of his back door. This was his new getaway routine for quite sometime now. He kept the front door locked. He would go out the back door, unlock the front door, bolt the back door from inside and lock the front again from the outside. It was safe to say the least. As he neared the front door, he found someone waiting outside. Just when he decided to sneak back in until they were gone-
“I can smell your scent.” It was Ester.
“Holy God! You scared me! And are you crazy, sitting out in open in times like this?”
“Don’t worry. No one here knows I’m Jewish. I’ve been coming here since almost a week now. Had you not shown up today, I’d have been gone for good. Thank God for that.”
“Lucky me! So how’ve you been? And what do you mean no one knows you’re Jewish?”
“I have got a friend back home who’s with the government. He’s got contacts. He helped me change my name to a non Jewish one. So officially I’m one of them. At heart, I’m still the same person I was when I met you for the first time. Also I got a job and I got posted here, on special request of course.”
“Oh, how lovely. So you’re going to stay. Incredible! Wish these times were different.”
“Oh don’t worry about that. As long as you’re with me, no one will dare so much as look at you as a lesser German.”
And it was true. Wherever they went, they were greeted with utmost respect. Her so called government friend had done a real good job. The times had changed, at least for him. Again he was leading very close to what could be called a normal life.
It was two years since Ester came to the town. The period was full of surprises. At times they’d spend weeks together and at times she’d spend months out of the town for her work. When he asked about her work, she’d said, “Believe me. In this matter, the lesser you know the better. I promise you it’s nothing illegal or embarrassing. It’s just.. Trust me on this.” And that he did. Never again did he mention it. No matter how irritating it got when she was away. It was more than worth it. Wedding was really out of question in the Nazi reign. A Jewish wedding was a perfect ingredient for ending a family as soon as it started. So it was all patience now. Patience to eternity.
Meanwhile, Adolf Hitler was going power crazy. He had already conquered Austria and had no intensions to stop. Europe was on a brink of another great war as he laid territorial claims on Czechoslovakia.
Little did Marcus know that soon the times were going to change. The dawn was coming, no doubt. But the darkest of the night preceded it. It all began with Kristallnacht (Crystal Night), the night of broken crystal. It was a national outburst against Jewish people, property and synagogues. It seemed fire was the only answer to everything that had a hint of Judaism in it. Marcus was taking a nap when he suddenly started choking on fumes. A large mob could be heard rejoicing over the fact that they had produced the fire. He quickly took his emergency bag, the one he’d prepared on Ester’s insistence and escaped through the back door into the blazing streets. Ester was yet to return from work. He ran hard to her workplace when he realised he didn’t have a destination. Just then he felt a mighty blow on the back of his head. Corpses were lying all around him. He wondered if soon he’ll be one of them even as his face touched the earth.
When he opened his eyes, it felt as if he’d been lying there for days. It was way past midnight and the entire area was deserted except for the dead bodies. Slowly, he stood up and started walking. Suddenly a familiar black and white dress caught his eyes. It was the same as the one Ester was wearing that day. Could it be her? No, he thought. Trembling with fear, he approached the body. It had been burnt beyond recognition. Same
black hair, same handbag and the same ring; it was all there. He felt as if a sheath of ice he had been standing on broke free and he was falling into the abyss. Tears could not express what he was feeling. Nothing could, except being the person he was. He opened the handbag to get a small something, like a souvenir to remember her by, in case anything was still intact. It contained the usual lady things, some money and a small folded piece of paper with its corners burned. He unfolded it to discover it was a letter addressed to him only. He started reading it.
Dear Marcus,
I may or may not be with you when you find this. It is not of much importance as long as you’ve found this. Where I work (I’m really sorry for keeping this from you), I’ve heard that terrible things are going to happen in Germany. The Jews are now considered a top threat to the country. So they’ve started implementing ‘The Final Solution’ already, as you may have noticed. You can’t stay here any longer. So cross the border into Poland. Hope you have no problem in living with the Zamenhof family. Do not wait for me, because I may have already left when this letter finds you. If we’re lucky enough, I’ll see you soon.
Love
Now and always
Ester
P.S. I really wish we were born in a different country in nicer times.
He really didn't know what to do. How was fleeing the country going to make his life any better? It could only be worse without her in it. He cursed God for sparing his life. Every time he had tried to be happy He had made life hell for him. There was no point in living now. He decided to end it there and then. But then, he looked at the letter and wondered if Ester would approve of that. He thought if he was to die, why not die trying to do what his love had wanted him to do; why not take two three Nazis with him to grave. It’ll at least give him some satisfaction.
So he decided to cross the border into Poland. It was not an easy task. The Gestapo were everywhere. He had to be careful. The border was nearby. The only hurdle was the Border Patrol. The Guards were all fresh recruits, so they hardly knew each other. During a shift change in night, Marcus disguised himself as a guard. He’d got the uniform from a Berg Schmidt, whom he’d been tracking for some days while staying in a village near the border. The guard lay unconscious in a ranch in the fields adjacent.
A sigh of relief escaped him as the other guards on duty didn’t question his identity. He knew once he’d established himself there escaping into Poland was a child’s play. Late into the night he made an excuse to take leak and vanished into to bushes. After a few hours’ walk in a rough terrain he finally found the highway. He took lifts intermediately to cut the journey short. Almost a day later, he was in the boundaries of Warsaw.
Warsaw, Poland
1938-1943
The Zamenhof family was astonished to see him. Dana was ten years old now. She still remembered him. Once he’d explained his situation they were all very kind about it. They offered him to stay as long as the conditions persisted. Mr Zamenhof even offered him a job of an assistant at clinic. It seemed he was finally going to get a normal life.
Nine months had passed since Kristallnacht. The period was reasonably peaceful in Poland. But soon this was to change. The Fuhrer was growing more ambitious with every passing day. He had already annexed the remainder of Czechoslovakia violating the Munich agreement and threatened to invade Poland any day now. There was an atmosphere of fear and distress all over the country now. On September 1st, 1939 World War 2 officially kicked off with the German troops entering the boundaries of Poland. The Poles surrendered within a month and with that began the Nazi reign in the country. It was time for the Jews to go underground or a terrible fate awaited them.
As forced by the Nazis, Marcus and the Zamenhofs were wearing a yellow star on their shoulders to distinguish themselves as Jews. All the educational institutes had been closed including the Warsaw University. The penalty for any rebellion, howsoever small, was death at the hands of the ruthless SS Guards. Not a day passed when an unclaimed Jewish corpse didn’t rot to organic crap on the roads. Marcus had managed to stay out of sight so far. And he regretted that every moment he spent staying alive.
After a year of random killings and complete demolition of public welfare one would think that the Nazis were satisfied with their accomplishments. But this was just a beginning to what was going to be one of the greatest genocides in the history of mankind. On October 10th, 1940 Governor-General Hans Frank passed an order to move all the Jews in Warsaw into a small confined place in the central Warsaw called the ghetto. Around 400,000 people were forcibly moved into the ghetto which was almost a third part of the entire population of Warsaw, the size of the ghetto being a mere 2% of the city area.
Marcus was allotted a place in the larger ghetto and the Zamenhofs got one in the smaller ghetto, where most of the people were richer than the ones in the larger ghetto. The two ghettos were connected by a single foot-bridge. Marcus was sharing his room with three other families, comprising of twelve people. There was a great scarcity of food, water and employment all over the ghetto. Most nights Marcus would sleep without a single proper meal. He would share anything he’d get with the families he was living with. Sometimes Dana would sneak in with some eatables for two-three days at most. But most of the times he had to buy the inflated smuggled food from the black marketers; that too once every two three days on account of the amount of money he had left. Hundreds of people were dying every week by starvation and thousands were suffering from diseases. Food was literally more precious than diamonds then. People licked the roads if that meant filling their empty stomachs. The Judenrat (a council of Jews to govern the ghetto) was doing nothing to stop it as the Altester (the leader) was content with the policy of collaboration with the Nazis. Two children had already died of starvation in the room Marcus was staying and one had been killed while trying to smuggle goods in a sack the size greater than his own from the outside. Everyday he prepared himself for the worst nightmare and everyday turned out to be worse than he could ever imagine.
Despite all the hardships, life wasn’t stagnant inside the ghetto. Soon after the formation of the ghetto, underground organisations were formed in order to restore the cultural and educational privileges. Hospitals, schools, recreational parks and refugee centres were formed. Many libraries and schools were operating undercover. Marcus found himself riveted towards a group called Oneg Shabbat, which represented artists, scholars, teachers, journalists and young people. Their aim was to chronicle the life around the ghetto and preserve it safely so that later when the war was over they could use these documents to tell their story. Historian Emmanuel Ringelblum was the founder of the group. Life finally seemed a little meaningful again to Marcus. Every Saturday, he went to the meeting of the group where they would each discuss and write their week’s memoirs and submit them to the secretary. The secretary would then hide it in a place about which only one person besides the secretary himself knew.
People were still dying of starvation. The situation hadn’t improved one bit on that front ever since day one at the ghetto. Still the underground movements were spreading optimism around the ghetto. Marcus kept himself busy with Oneg Shabbat. In summer 1942, the Nazis started picking up the Ghetto people in large numbers and deporting them somewhere. No one inside the ghetto had any idea where they were taking these people and what they did with them. The selection was fairly random, except only children were not taken. Not even if their parents had been nominated by the Nazis. Marcus found this displeasing. Something seemed wrong about it. If they weren’t going to be harmed as the Nazis had promised then why not take the children too.
One Saturday as he was about to leave for his meeting, he found a familiar figure approaching his house. It was Dana. She wasn’t her usual cheerful self. This place could wear anyone down, thought Marcus.
“Look who’s showing up after a long time. Where have you been?” He tried to lighten her up. But then realised something was terribly wrong. She started crying and wrapped her arms around his legs. He kneeled down and held her.
“What’s wrong?”
“They took mom and dad. But they wouldn’t take me. They won’t harm them will they?”
“WHAT! Absolutely not. They’ll work them up at a factory or something. Don’t worry, they’ll return soon. Till then, you can stay with me if you want to.”
“Sure. They’ll come back, won’t they?”
“They will. They will.” He kissed her on the forehead. Had he been any honest, he’d have said no. But that was hardly helping her case. And he too was an optimist.
As time passed more Jews were taken away by the Nazis. The count now reached hundreds of thousands. It was clear that they weren’t taking them to the labour camps as they’d claimed. There was something more sinister than that. Soon solid news arrived that the Jews had been taken to the Treblinka Extermination Camp and were murdered there in the gas chambers. Almost 300,000 people had been deported in the past six months. Somehow Marcus had saved himself from the Nazi wrath, by hiding into bunkers.
“What do they do with all these dead bodies?” Dana asked, as she came to know about it. Strangely, she had been all calm about it. May be, deep down she too had accepted that her parents were not coming back.
“I am not sure,” said Marcus, “According to the rumours they dig a big hole, heap all the bodies and burn them.” He didn’t try hard this time.
“That’s sad. I wonder if these people will ever pay for their crimes.”
“They will. God is watching them.”
“Then why isn’t He doing something about it? There is no God.”
“Don’t say that. He’s just waiting for the right time.”
“And the right time will be when there’s no innocent life to save?”
He didn’t reply. In a way she was right. Only around 50,000 Jews were left in the ghetto now. What was God waiting for?
His question was answered soon. Zionists had started preparing for a rebellion against the Nazi deportation. Underground bunkers had already been made for the general population to hide. Groups like ZOB and ZZW were leading the charge of what would later be known as the infamous Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. In January, 1943 when the Nazis came back for the deportations, the entire Jewish population was ready. The Nazis didn’t find a single soul in the streets as all were hiding in the bunkers. The rebel armies were still unprepared but this was their chance to surprise the SS guards. The mutiny broke out and the rebel soldiers fought bravely to push the SS guards away. The Nazis didn’t show up for the next four days. This was considered a victory in the ghetto. But Marcus knew it was only about time they came back strongly again. Meanwhile, in the next Oneg Shabbat gathering it was decided that the burial of their archives was carried out soon, as the Nazis would be entering the bunkers any day now. The documents were carefully put in the boxes and milk churns and buried safely. A process carried out by the director of a ghetto school, Israel Lichtenstein, two young men called Dawid Gruber and Nahum Grzwacz, and Marcus himself.
Dana was totally enjoying this time as it meant avenging her parents’ death in a way. She even volunteered for the ZOB behind Marcus’ back but was sent back as she wasn’t an adult.
The resistance was faltering every passing day. The Nazis were proving to be far too stronger with their automatic weaponry against a few pistols and automatics of the rebels which they’d acquired from the Polish army. By March most of the fighters had been pushed down into their bunkers. The Nazis were at a brink of wiping them all out. The rebels reconsidered their strategy to keep fighting and started devising exit routes. Some of the ZOB members thought otherwise. They said they’d keep fighting till their last man was down. In a way it would help the fleeing people to buy some precious time. Marcus had already collaborated with a ZOB unit. He had to save Dana at any cost.
The Nazis started burning the ghetto building by building. It created havoc in the entire area. They were shooting anyone and everyone they could spot, even the ones who would surrender. Marcus was escaping with the ZOB unit through the sewers. Dana couldn’t match up with their pace so he had to carry her from time to time. Suddenly an SS guard appeared from nowhere. Actually he’d opened the lid and jumped in from the top. Just as he put his finger on the trigger of his MP40, a ZOB soldier swung his dagger right across his back. Saved! Then as he started running again he heard a gunshot from behind. Fortunately it missed him so he kept running. Just then he realised he was dragging Dana along.
“NO! Dana!” She was bleeding heavily from the gunshot wound at her back. But she was still breathing. “Stay with me. Are you listening?”
She nodded. She’d apparently lost hope. “You stay with me, okay? You’ll be fine.”
He picked her up, wrapped her arms around his neck and ran like hell till he was in safe boundaries. She was still breathing. He laid her on the grass.
“You’ve been very kind to me,” she said.
“Why are you saying that?” He broke into tears.
“Don’t. The world is going to be at peace soon. Promise me you will live your life to the fullest. You’ve earned it.” She was quitting.
“I promise..” Even as he said so, her eyelids shut close. She was gone. He carried her body to the ZOB hideout in Michalin Forest and buried her there.
He picked a small rock and carved her name on that with the pen knife he was still carrying and placed it on her grave.
Exile
1943-45
It was more than a temporary shelter. A small cave surrounded by dense wild vegetation. One couldn’t find it unless they’d been there before. Their diet included wild fruits, vegetables and occasionally meat of a deer or a boar. Their leader Marek Edelman liked to keep track of the events in Warsaw through the evening radio broadcast. The Nazis had found the bunker which was their previous headquarters. They’d killed everyone inside the ghetto. The number reached around 50,000 for the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising only. Almost entire Jewish population of Poland had been wiped out in a single largest genocide of the modern times.
It was a year and a half later in January 1945 that the Soviet army freed Warsaw, and flushed the Nazis out of Poland. Marcus had been moving once he knew it was safe to move east. He visited quite a few Soviet refugee camps but never stayed at one for too long; so that he wouldn’t have to get acquainted with the other refugees and later regret he ever did that. He had recently arrived at the refugee camp near Tula, around 200 kilometers south of Moscow, in February, when the news broke out that the allies had vigorously bombed Dresden. The Nazis were losing their grip or so was the word around the camp.
One night in the camp he started coughing badly. He got out and sat in the open. Still the coughing wouldn’t stop. Just then a little girl around seven or eight years old came with a glass of water.
“Mother said it would help.” She said.
“Oh, thanks.” She reminded him of Dana and somewhat Anne. “What’s your name?”
“Eve.”
“How ol-” Before he could complete his question she ran away to her mother.
Within a month and a half the Soviet troops were in Berlin. Adolf Hitler committed suicide in his bunker and the German government surrendered unconditionally. The refugees were allowed to enter their native countries. Marcus too set on a journey to his motherland. He was finally a free man in his own country. But he knew not all the freedom in this world would ever be worth what he’d lost en route.
Dresden, Germany
1945
After crossing two international borders and roughly twenty four hours of road journey, he was finally in the town where he was born. The city ruins told the saga of a time which would go down in the history books as one of the most severe man made disasters. Numbers piled up to millions when one started estimating the amount of Jewish deaths. The holocaust, as they’d call it in future, was finally over.
As he was crossing Waldpark, a series of memories came flashing back. He went inside to see if the old pine tree had survived the war. To his surprise, it was still there. He still remembered the dates he’d written. Suddenly his eyes popped out when he saw “5-18-45” at the bottom. Could it be her? May be someone was playing a prank. But could he afford to take that risk after a lifetime of being on the losing side of everything? Besides, the spot was difficult to find for first timers. As he sat down to examine it, he found something else. There was an arrow pointing at the back of the tree. There was nothing behind the tree. He didn’t understand. May be underneath the sand. He started digging the soil out with his pen knife without any hope of finding anything. Just then he hit a metal. As he removed the sand he found it was a key. Now what could this mean? He kept wondering as he reached his house. Most of it had survived the air raids. He still had his house key. Just when he took out his key, he realised that the key he’d found was of same colour and make. He just knew what he had to do now.
Anne’s place was locked as he had expected. He tried the key he’d found and it worked. It wasn’t as dusty as his apartment. Somebody had been there on a regular basis, but not recently. There were photographs and articles pinned all over the wall. Most of them were related to Louis. On the desk he found a diary. He opened it.
Dear Marcus,
I am glad you found this. More than anything I’m glad you survived the war. This will enlighten you regarding why I did what I did. I apologise for everything from the bottom of my heart.
I still remember that day when that ugly beast kidnapped me. He had this place in the outskirts where no one ever went. He took me there and threw me in the basement. At regular intervals of time he’d come and do what a paedophile does. Repeatedly he said soon you’d join us there. But fortunately, I managed to escape and he was imprisoned before he could even get a glimpse of you. I soon realised there was more to it than him being a paedophile, as he was particularly interested in you. I wanted to see you and talk to you about it, but my mother wouldn’t allow me out of the house. And then I was made to leave Dresden for good.
Then we met in Poland. You remember Ester Nathan, right? At first I was almost shocked that you’d recognised me, despite the contacts and the hairdo. I wanted to tell you but somehow I couldn’t. Scared that you wouldn’t like me the way you liked Ester because of what happened back in Dresden. She didn’t die. I didn’t die. It was a necessary step to make you leave Germany for your own safety. And at that time I was working with the Gestapo. I had too much information to leave the country and risk the safety of an entire population. And there was no other way you’d leave without me. Once again I apologise, but I did what I thought was best for us.
Now coming to your connection with that beast, he had worked in the Albertstadt Garrison along with your father. He was an extreme anti Semite. Rumour has it that wherever their company was assigned, there were an unusual number of Jewish deaths. So it’s not hard to believe he backstabbed your father. Now why he wanted to kill you could only be speculated as he wanted to end as many Jewish bloodlines as he could. Conclusively, anti Semitism could be the extra driving force behind his desperation to see you, besides the normal urges.
He was released in 1934, on an unconditional bail. Ever since I got a Gestapo badge, I’ve tried hard to track him down but failed miserably. Except recently, when I spotted him coming out of his old hide-out and driving into the town while I was passing by. He’s much older now and can’t hunt as cleanly as in his youth. He had been watching this little kid in the streets for quite sometime now. I was keeping a close watch on him. But one day he caught me following him and recognized me instantly. I ran as fast as I could and was fortunate enough to lose him. Ever since, I’ve been keeping an eye out for him without any success. Seems like he’s holed himself up pretty nicely somewhere or may be he’s following me. May be I am his next target. Anything’s possible in the big bad world we live in.
Anyway, I checked his prison logs. The only visitor he ever had was a classified person. The name of the person was actually written at the time of the visits but it was later crossed and ‘classified’ was put there instead. Only someone in the inner circle of the Fuhrer had that kind of reach. Come to think of it, how many such people were there really? Five, ten, at the most fifteen. None of them seemed to me as interesting as the Fuhrer Adolf Hitler himself. Call me crazy but when you look at the facts, you’ll be astonished. It all began in Linz. Alois Hitler was transferred to Linz in 1894 and Adolf spent most of his childhood there only. It is possible that Adolf came under someone’s influence at an early age, possibly an anti Semite. Surely it wasn’t his father as he despised his father because of the severe beatings he used to get. Then who could it be? Someone who had shared this hatred with him; someone who had a character similar to him. Who was this person? Fact says before being transferred to Braunau in 1875 Alois was stationed in Linz only. Fact says he’d fathered an illegitimate child with a woman named Thekla in the 60s and abandoned them. Rumour has it, that kid had a disturbed childhood as the other kids always teased him about his father. Most of the kids were Jewish. Add to it his mother’s death in a fire at a warehouse owned by a Jew, who was responsible for it in his court. Imagine that years later he comes to know his father is in town with his family. He finds out that his little son too hates him like he does. Further Adolf might have found a father figure in him. So, we can reasonably conclude that the anti Semitic influence was at an early age. This influence grew stronger as the relationship grew stronger. I have no hesitation in saying that ultimately it might have actually caused World War 2. Hitler was known to have been calling someone in confidentiality before taking every major decision. Even in his final days, he’d passed some coded information to be delivered to an address.
If my hypothesis is true and I believe ninety nine out of hundred times it is, we can still avenge millions of deaths, including your father’s. The world thinks it is finally at peace, but I hardly believe that. And I won’t ever, unless this monster is dead.
If you still have any doubts, check this one out. Alois Hitler’s birth name was Alois Schicklgruber. He changed it to Hitler in 1977, long after Louis was born. Rearrange the letters in ‘Alois Schicklgruber’ and you get ‘Louis Cherrigsblack’. Happy coincidence? I guess not. Too weird a last name for a coincidence.
I hope that this letter finds you. And if you’re reading this, I’ll see you soon.
Love
Now and always
Anne Strathe/Ester Nathan
He couldn't believe his own eyes. It was a reasonably logical theory. If it were true, which he believed it was then the person responsible for his lifetime of sufferings was still alive. He looked around. The house had been vacant for at least a week. She’d said he’d spotted her once and she believed he was on to her. It could mean only the worst. He had taken her again. He found the newspaper cutting from the 20s and noted down the location of his hideout. It was due north, off the highway along the border of the city.
He quickly took out his old bike and set on the wild goose chase. He rode off the highway deep into the woods, but couldn’t find a single man made structure. After an hour a riding into dark he glimpsed a distant light. He knew this was it. It was a small wooden cabin. To imagine it had a basement was a bit too much. Slowly he made it towards the door. It wasn’t bolted. Just as he pushed it inward, WHAM! Blood poured out from the back of his head as he fell at the threshold. A familiar face was staring down at him even as the unconsciousness took over.
He was alive, as he realised when he opened his eyes to find himself tied arms to legs behind his back. There she was, ten feet away, lying all naked and tied. Her face was badly bruised.
“You came,” She spoke in whispers, resisting the tears. “I knew you’d come.”
“So did I.” said Louis. “You see how dearly I’ve been taking care of her, huh?”
“You will pay.” Marcus tried to ignite him up.
“WE will see to that soon. For now, you watch what I do to her.”
He started approaching her. She was screaming in agony. Marcus knew what he had to do now. He quickly stretched his arms to his shoes and took out the pen-knife. Louis didn’t get a clue as he was facing him and cutting the ropes behind his back. Just when Louis took his eyes off him, he made a giant leap and slashed his back.
“THIS,” he said, “Is for all the kids you’ve ever touched.”
He swung his arm again. This time it was Louis’ chest.
“THIS is for my father, Dana and the millions of Jews.”
Now he slit his throat.
“THIS is for touching Anne! BURN IN HELL!” He yelled at the top of his voice.
Louis collapsed instantly. Marcus took a deep breath and cut Anne free. He wrapped his coat around her.
“You came for me.” She broke into tears as she hugged him.
“Of course I did. It’s okay. Everything’s fine now.”
“I am so sorry. I’ll never keep you in the dark again.”
“You did the right thing. Now let’s go.”
“Please hold me tight. Do not leave me ever again.”
“Don’t worry; I’m going to hold you tight for the rest of my life.”
And off they walked into the moonlit woods to never return to this place again. Marcus was the happiest he’d ever been his entire life.
* * * *
EPILOGUE
Dresden, Germany
2011
“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to. Oh God!”
A beautiful young girl with red hair and a pair of bright green eyes had just spilled coffee over his new shirt. He wasn’t sure where to concentrate, on his coffee smelling shirt or whatever number of humans God couldn’t pay attention to as he was busy making whatever she was.
“Well,” he said after a long pause, “It’s okay. It’s just that it was my new shirt I was wearing to my interview.”
“Okay, come with me; I’ll buy you a new shirt on my way.”
“You ma’am, are really rich or you are bluffing.”
“Why don’t you stop wasting my time and find out for yourself.”
“Do not back out now.”
“You’ll soon see.”
Later at the store, when she took out the money to pay,
“Are you really going to pay?”
“What part of this seems subtle to you?”
“Well, um, I thought.. never mind. I was bluffing. As for the shirt, I’ll buy it for remembrance.”
“Thank you for wasting my precious time.”
“You’re most welcome! By the way you are-?”
“Dana Wexler.”
“Nice name.”
“Named after my grandmother. Nice meeting you Mr-?”
“Adam Cherrigsblack. Nice meeting you too.”
“Weird name.”
“Tell me about it, huh. Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to have coffee later.”
“Er..sure. As long as you don’t ask me to suck it off your shirt.”
And they broke into laughter.
* * * *
was seriously waitin for this seriously sumptuous work of yours ;) n i can't find an emoticon for "hats off to you mate."
ReplyDeleteTECHNICAL CORRECTION: the coloured caontact lenses were developed in 60's.
ReplyDeleteYeah i was worried about that, when i was writin..i read that the commercial boom was in the 60s..but wasn't sure so i thought, may be the PMMAs were available by the 40's, why not colored..anyway thanks. guess i'll have to make some changes
ReplyDeleteActually, in 'Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows' colored lenses are mentioned as early as 1891. Right there.
ReplyDelete