tactics to survive the war. Some left the country, some hid out in the woods, others stayed in their homes with the hope that they’d survive the onslaught. I could only envision the schools staying open to educate German children. In fact, according to Heinrich Himmler, a senior Nazi official, Polish children should be able to sign their own name, be obedient to the Germans and count to five-hundred, unless they passed Germanization tests. This designation meant education in the German language and subjects. Certainly no Polish teachers could remain; it was against Hitler’s ideals.
Appearances were changing quickly in the camp. Berta told me that she saw huge loads of straw being dropped off at the rear of the camp. Maybe we were getting new mattresses! Our old, lice-infested straw mattresses would never pass an inspection by the Red Cross, and neither would our lice-infested bodies. They had to replace the mattresses and blankets if our bodies were going to look healthy. I wondered if the Red Cross could really be so easily fooled. I would soon realize how determined the Germans were to keep their secret hidden from the rest of the world.
One night during the frenzied whispering, someone mentioned that we would be having a stork festival like we used to have every year before the war. It was then I realized howresolved the Nazis were to hide their crimes and make the world see something completely opposite our everyday reality. We were hardly allowed to speak to one another during a regular work day, let alone sing, dance, put on a play and enjoy eating festive foods. Pickles, pirogues, honey cakes; all part of the holiday foods that were going to be served. My mouth watered at the thought of tasting those pleasurable dishes again. Could all these stories be true? Why would Germany put on a stork festival when Poland no longer existed in Hitler’s Aryan nation? Storks were part of Poland’s culture. I couldn’t envision a festival celebrating one without honoring the other.
Anna had only been here for a few days, and I could already see her retreating further and further into herself. I felt so protective of her, I was afraid she was giving up. I needed and wanted to look after her, help her survive. She touched a place in my heart that made me feel like we were connected somehow, like she was the younger sister I’d longed for, who needed my strength and protection. The idea of a stork festival gave me something to discuss with her.
“Anna, did you and your family go to the stork festival in your town?”
“Yes, a few times.”
“What was your favorite thing to do there?”
She didn’t answer. She shrugged.
“I liked looking at all the crafts,” I offered.
She looked down at the gray, lifeless dirt; her demeanor mirrored what her eyes were staring at. I’d have to keep trying. I knew the end of the war couldn’t be too far off. The signs were everywhere and there were so many things I wanted to tell her. Things that could help her remember who she was, and that all of this craziness couldn’t last forever. I reminded myself to go slow and not overwhelm her. Searching my brain for a way to connect with her, I wondered if she had a pet, or played a musical instrument. Maybe she was really good atschoolwork…there had to be something she would talk about.
“Time to leave with the work crew.” Placing my hands on her head, I said, “Take care of yourself today, Anna, I’ll see you tonight.”
She slowly shook her head up and down. I quickly squeezed her hand goodbye. She was a girl, far from home, enslaved in a labor camp. It was easy to see the devastation she felt. Her fear of dogs may have been a blessing in disguise. That’s what brought us together, forging a bond of protection and friendship. She needed me, but what she didn’t understand was that I needed her, as well. I couldn’t help notice the similarities. We’d both been rejected for Germanization. We were children, arriving here
Appearances were changing quickly in the camp. Berta told me that she saw huge loads of straw being dropped off at the rear of the camp. Maybe we were getting new mattresses! Our old, lice-infested straw mattresses would never pass an inspection by the Red Cross, and neither would our lice-infested bodies. They had to replace the mattresses and blankets if our bodies were going to look healthy. I wondered if the Red Cross could really be so easily fooled. I would soon realize how determined the Germans were to keep their secret hidden from the rest of the world.
One night during the frenzied whispering, someone mentioned that we would be having a stork festival like we used to have every year before the war. It was then I realized howresolved the Nazis were to hide their crimes and make the world see something completely opposite our everyday reality. We were hardly allowed to speak to one another during a regular work day, let alone sing, dance, put on a play and enjoy eating festive foods. Pickles, pirogues, honey cakes; all part of the holiday foods that were going to be served. My mouth watered at the thought of tasting those pleasurable dishes again. Could all these stories be true? Why would Germany put on a stork festival when Poland no longer existed in Hitler’s Aryan nation? Storks were part of Poland’s culture. I couldn’t envision a festival celebrating one without honoring the other.
Anna had only been here for a few days, and I could already see her retreating further and further into herself. I felt so protective of her, I was afraid she was giving up. I needed and wanted to look after her, help her survive. She touched a place in my heart that made me feel like we were connected somehow, like she was the younger sister I’d longed for, who needed my strength and protection. The idea of a stork festival gave me something to discuss with her.
“Anna, did you and your family go to the stork festival in your town?”
“Yes, a few times.”
“What was your favorite thing to do there?”
She didn’t answer. She shrugged.
“I liked looking at all the crafts,” I offered.
She looked down at the gray, lifeless dirt; her demeanor mirrored what her eyes were staring at. I’d have to keep trying. I knew the end of the war couldn’t be too far off. The signs were everywhere and there were so many things I wanted to tell her. Things that could help her remember who she was, and that all of this craziness couldn’t last forever. I reminded myself to go slow and not overwhelm her. Searching my brain for a way to connect with her, I wondered if she had a pet, or played a musical instrument. Maybe she was really good atschoolwork…there had to be something she would talk about.
“Time to leave with the work crew.” Placing my hands on her head, I said, “Take care of yourself today, Anna, I’ll see you tonight.”
She slowly shook her head up and down. I quickly squeezed her hand goodbye. She was a girl, far from home, enslaved in a labor camp. It was easy to see the devastation she felt. Her fear of dogs may have been a blessing in disguise. That’s what brought us together, forging a bond of protection and friendship. She needed me, but what she didn’t understand was that I needed her, as well. I couldn’t help notice the similarities. We’d both been rejected for Germanization. We were children, arriving here
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