In the Sewers of Lvov (6 page)

The jovial one introduced himself as Leopold Socha. With him was, Stefak Wroblewski who smiled and shook hands. The third member, the foreman of the group, was Jerzy Kowalow. He nodded to all but said little. Polish sewer workers, maintenance engineers – they were no one important. They wore simple cloth caps, heavy work clothes and tall rubber boots, suspended by braces over their shoulders.

The six men splayed themselves across the benches and the
sewer workers listened to Weiss and the others. What was to be done? Was there any way they would help? Was there somewhere in the sewers they could hide? Could they help them find it?

‘I think we can help you, but we need to be paid for it,’ Socha declared up front. Now they were on terms everyone understood. What sort of place did they want to hide in? When did they want to go there? What sort of preparations would be necessary? Eventually the discussion turned to the central question of payment.

‘You have to understand, there are three of us who have to agree to help you. Any one of us could give you away. If we betray you we become heroes, but if we try and help and we get caught …’

‘I know. You and your family will be shot.’

‘Shot? They would hang my wife and children from the lampposts!’

As Socha said this, he didn’t betray a hint of menace but retained the air of confident good humour which seemed so alien to Weiss and the others. Throughout their discussion, Chiger concentrated intensely on Socha’s face, searching for the slightest hint of doubt or anxiety. Occasionally he saw flitting across his round, chubby face the unmistakable evidence of some inner struggle. While Socha carried the conversation back and forth – examining the pros and cons – there was a silent ‘weighing of the situation inside his breast’. No one, not even Socha, was absolutely certain at that point how the scales would come down. After some time, Chiger could see no evidence that Socha’s struggle had been resolved, so he decided to make the first move.

‘I shall give you some money now, on account. You and your colleagues can talk about it and perhaps you might think of somewhere suitable for us down there. We can meet here tomorrow and you report what you’ve decided.’

‘What are you doing?’ Weiss leapt towards Chiger. ‘You’re giving them money? Are you crazy?’

Weiss was furious. Not just because they had been offered money for nothing, but Chiger’s unilateral decision to take matters into his own hands usurped Weiss’s authority. Weiss took
Chiger and Berestycki to one side and the three of them began to argue. Weiss was convinced Chiger was about to throw away all their hard work at the very moment of their triumph. He would not allow it. Chiger saw it differently. If they were going to trust these people to help them, then purchasing a little goodwill in advance would do no harm. Besides, it was his money and if he wanted to give it to someone on account, who could stop him.

‘What else can we do? Whether I give them the money or not, they can still betray us. We are in their hands.’

Chiger turned to Socha and handed him a roll of notes.

‘Let’s arrange a rendezvous, here, tomorrow. You can tell me then what you’ve decided.’

Chiger was a fair judge of character. He said afterwards that as he handed the money across to the sewer worker, he was confident that Socha would return. Paulina, who had been watching, recalled the incident: ‘That was the moment that the deal was sealed. I could see it in Socha’s face.’

Socha and the others got to their feet and explained that they had to get back to work. As they parted, Socha had turned to Chiger. ‘Everything will turn out well.’

As soon as the sewer workers had descended through the shaft, those in the cellar were left with a deep sense of unease. They were now completely vulnerable. All their plans – their very existence – could now be obliterated by a single word from Socha and his friends. The excitement of breaking through to the chamber beneath their feet was forgotten and a familiar anxiety gnawed away at their nerves. The indelible image of Socha’s beaming face seemed the only guarantee for their future.

As promised, Socha returned the following day and every day after that, still beaming that air of good humour. He made himself familiar with the children, lifting them on to his lap and telling them stories. Pawel seemed to develop an immediate attachment to this cheerful new uncle and that in itself was evidence of something. Of course he would help them find somewhere, but he let them know that it wasn’t going to be easy. They did no further work on the shaft for the next few days while all their plans were suspended.

Eventually Socha reported that the others had agreed to cooperate and help find somewhere that could be made habitable. Wroblewski seemed keen, and their boss Kowalow said that as long as he got his money, ‘You can do what you like.’ Socha also decided to make a proper job of the shaft. He looked over the piece of work again and suggested they could reinforce the walls with cement and, in the process, provide grips to make climbing in and out a little easier. He also suggested a way of disguising the entrance, by shaping it into a square. From his workshop he brought a standard iron grill and fitted it over the opening – making it seem like an official drain. Down in the chamber, a similar trap was added to the exit. Weiss, Kuba, Weinberg, Berestycki and Margulies all worked on improving the shaft. Margulies recalled. ‘This is when I got to know Socha. Some of us were working from above, others were working from below, getting rid of the rubble.’

Margulies never saw anyone but Weiss, Berestycki and Socha during this period. So far as he was aware, there were no more than four or five people involved in the work. According to the Berestycki account, they took extraordinary precautions:

From the beginning, we all wore masks. They decided that they should only meet wearing masks; balaclavas, in fact. It was so that they would never be able to identify each other if forced. Socha was frightened and did not want to endanger his friends – and they also didn’t know whether to trust each other.

As they laboured under Socha’s direction, the team made long journeys through the sewers looking for a suitable hiding place. After about a week’s search Socha found somewhere down the main chamber that might be suitable. Chiger and his colleagues had to take a look.

With Socha leading the way, his carbide lamp chasing back the darkness, they moved in single file down the pathway beside the Peltwa, one hand feeling the wall beside them. Every so often their progress was halted when the wall beside them abruptly disappeared into the entrance of a six-foot-high tunnel. At regular
intervals, these great elliptical vomitories appeared, issuing a foot or so of water into the river. Here the ledge seemed to be cut away by the water rushing to the Peltwa, forcing the explorers to step down into the current, wade through it and climb back up on to the continuing ledge. Any slip as they crossed the gap, and they would be swept into the Peltwa.

Socha led them down-river, to a small stone bridge that arched across to the other side. From there they were led back up-river again to what appeared to be another elliptical tunnel. That was it. It looked, in every way, just like any of the other of the tunnels, except that no water flowed from it. Instead the waters from the Peltwa eddied in and out of the opening, soaking the soil at the bottom. It seemed as though the engineers had bored some fifteen or twenty metres into the earth, then changed their minds and bricked up the face. Halfway up the face was a narrow pipe emitting a gentle smear of water down the wall. The bottom was silted up with material that had been deposited during high tides, and it was alive with rats. Here was their sanctuary.

Very soon, Margulies, Weinberg and others had been introduced to Socha and were all pressed into whatever work was deemed necessary to prepare the tunnel for habitation. They took it in turns to come each day to clear away the soil and debris; the usual material that chokes an urban river. They brought down boards and constructed narrow benches that could be sat or slept upon. They also began storing provisions. Here, Margulies excelled himself. From his connections with shopkeepers and Ukrainian farmers, he collected quantities of cereals, barley, oats and flour, which he sealed in large glass jars. He got tins of pickled cucumbers, sugar and kerosine. Margulies ensured they had plenty of fuel for the small stove which they planned to bring down. He also managed to get hold of large quantities of carbide, to fuel the lamps the sewer workers carried with them everywhere. Everything was squirrelled away in a dozen different places.

During these trips back and forth from the sewer, Margulies had begun to notice a young girl who lived next door to the Weisses. ‘I remember seeing Klara on the street one day. I
thought she was very pretty,’ he later reminisced. He began to take an interest, bringing her and Manya food and medicine.

Klara recalled: ‘Suddenly, one day he’s sitting in my room and talking. I suppose he came to see Mr Weiss. I didn’t know anything at that time. I didn’t know about any plan, or tunnel or what they were doing.’ Margulies’s visits became more regular and soon they had formed an attachment. Klara continued: ‘I can’t remember how we survived, my sister and I, before Mundek came along. We had no money, Manya had no work and was getting sick – and then he was there, wheeling and dealing.’

With each day Weiss and his group became more familiar with the chamber. Soon they were making journeys by themselves and taking the time to explore the new environment. Berestycki and Margulies wandered up one of the tunnels and discovered a pipe carrying fresh water. It cut across a tunnel at right-angles and was exposed for about two feet. With typical ingenuity, Berestycki plumbed a tap into the pipe for a constant supply of drinking water.

The most exhausting job was clearing the silt and mud from the floor of the tunnel, and the work was organized in shifts. Chiger, Berestycki and Weiss were on their way back to the shaft one afternoon, when they ran into the unexpected. Up ahead of them there was a glow from some lanterns. Strangers were approaching from the opposite direction. They turned and ran back towards the tunnel. They climbed inside and waited. Still the lanterns approached. They backed into the rear, pressing themselves against the wall. They could hear voices. Then someone called out, shouting to another a long way off.

‘That’s Wroblewski,’ said Weiss.

Chiger moved to the entrance and peered round the edge. Wroblewski and Kowalow were striding towards them. Wroblewski called out again and waved his lantern above his head. They were virtually at the entrance to the tunnel, yet he was still calling at the top of his voice. Chiger heard a reply from the other direction and understood what was happening. Away in the distance another group of lights was approaching. Chiger returned to the others and explained what he’d seen. They
listened to Wroblewski and Kowalow getting closer, step across the mouth of the tunnel, and continue, still calling to the others up ahead. Eventually the men in the tunnel heard the two parties meet and start a conversation. Chiger decided to take another look to see what they were doing and moved back to the opening.

He seemed to be watching for ages.

‘What are they doing?’ asked Berestycki. Chiger moved back from the entrance.

‘Coming back this way.’

Gradually the voices grew louder again. Three, four, perhaps five men altogether. Chiger and the others moved deep into the back of the tunnel, trying to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible. The lanterns flashed past them, as Wroblewski, Kowalow and the strangers waded across the opening – and continued away again. The three men at the end of the tunnel remained in their lair until they could hear nothing but the sound of the river. Then they made their way back to the cellar.

The following day Socha paid them a visit.

‘You were all very lucky yesterday.’

‘Wroblewski didn’t see us. We hid in the tunnel.’

‘Of course they saw you. That’s why Wroblewski and Kowalow were there,’ explained Socha.

‘It doesn’t make sense. They walked straight passed us.’

‘Wroblewski knew that there would be another party of workers in that area, so they went down to watch out for them. They saw you on your way back to the cellar, realized that you had gone back into the tunnel and so just walked on past you to meet up with the other group.’

‘What were the other group of workers doing there?’

Socha shook his head and took a deep breath. ‘They had been ordered to escort some Germans to a spot not far from where you were working, to retrieve the body of an SS man that had been found hanging there. Some of your people had opened a manhole in the street, tied a piece of rope to the top rung of the ladder, put the other end round the German’s neck and pushed him down the manhole.’

Action by the resistance was always a double-edged sword.
While keeping alive the prospect of fighting back, it also brought down the wrath of the occupiers in its most terrible form. On this occasion they began with the execution of a dozen or so members of the Jewish police. They were taken to Loketka Street, amid scenes of indiscriminate butchery and lynched from the balconies of the houses there. This was expected to make the Jewish police more determined to maintain order amongst their compatriots. The following day, SS and Ukrainian militia raided the ghetto, sweeping away hundreds more to be executed.

With the sounds of boots and rifle fire echoing in the street outside the barrack, Weiss suddenly put his head round Klara’s door. ‘Come on, get your sister.’

Klara recalled: ‘I had to drag Manya towards the opening. She had typhus and they were killing everybody who was sick.’ Margulies, Klara and Manya, Weiss and his family and friends slipped down the hole into the cellar, put the boards back in place behind them and waited. They spent a day in the sewer, waiting for the
Aktion
to cease.

‘For me I always remember that day, because I felt safe. It was like a small paradise, a safe place,’ Klara remembered. But the experience had been terrifying for Manya. She got decidedly worse as the day wore on and had become almost hysterical with anxiety, struggling against Margulies and Weiss’s attempts to keep her calm. Klara recalled her sister crying: ‘I’d rather be dead, than stay there again.