Last Stork Summer (8 page)

Storks are considered to be silent birds, but white storks throw their heads back and clatter their upper and lower bills together rapidly, making a loud rattle
.

Several days passed with the same work schedule. Anna attended school every day while I worked in the kennels. I had lived with various degrees of fear for the past few years. Now I was trying to balance the fear I felt with the joy I felt over the connection I was developing with Hardy. How could I possibly keep from drawing close to him? He reminded me of everything I had left behind, everything I loved and missed. Just being around him made my heart feel lighter, and during off-duty times I found myself thinking of him more and more, wondering if he was waiting at the gate for me. I could not let myself become attached to the kids here, because our lives were extremely fleeting. I recalled the girl from the factory, tossed into the transport truck like a chunk of wood being tossed on a fire. We couldn’t count on being here from one day to the next. The Germans could ship us off to an extermination camp, or another labor camp, at any time. I’d already broken an unspoken rule by helping Anna. Now, I felt very protective of her and made sure to show her every day how special she was. Like a baby bird working to emerge from its shell, she was finally starting to scratch at the protective scab she was in. She was talking a bit more and taking an interest in finding out about my day. I started seeing signs of the real Anna seep out. She would slowly dole out a memory from happier times, or share her hope for the future. Even though she was terrified of dogs she asked about Hardy and his new antics.

The dogs were treated better than the Polish children and I felt I could count on them being here until the end of the war, even if there was no guarantee that I would still be here. I silently reminded myself of how long it took me to get over Basil. Did I have it in me to go through that kind of grief again if something should happen to Hardy? I wondered who his handler was, and if he cared for Hardy as much as I did. Did he notice how intelligent Hardy was and how eager he was to please?

I started scrubbing down the kennel. Afterwards, I threw buckets of water to wash away the soap. I replaced all the straw bedding with clean, fresh straw. I scrubbed down the water trough and filled it to the top with clean water. It sparkled when I was finished. I brushed the few dogs who weren’t working and hauled all of the waste outside the camp to the rubbish pit. My arms felt heavy from all the lifting and hauling. Suddenly, I was so fatigued and I noticed my hunger for the first time since the morning.

After a long day of cleaning I felt exhausted and wanted to go to sleep. My grandmother’s lullaby played in my mind.

“Dobrej nocy, I sza, do bialego spij dnia. Spij dziecino, oczka zmruz
,
Spij do wschodu rannych zorz.”

“Goodnight and hush, sleep ‘till the morning comes. Sleep my baby, close your eyes, Sleep ‘till the dawn will shine.”

I skipped dinner and went straight to my bunk. Anna couldn’t hide the worry on her face. I reassured her that I was just tired, not sick. When Anna came to the bunk I softly sang the lullaby that my grandmother used to sing to me. I said a quick prayer, asking for deliverance from our situation. I had Anna by my side. I pulled the rags we used for warmth up over us. The weather was definitely getting warmer and we weren’t freezing all the time, but the nights were still cooling down quite a bit and we needed each other for warmth. It’s so hard to feel warm when you don’t have any fat on your body. Shivering seemed to be a common reaction to any temperature other than hot weather. I
took some comfort in the fact that soon the hot weather and temperatures would be here.

I pictured my family in my mind, saying good night to each one individually. It felt like they were in the next room and not miles and miles away from me.

A heavy quiet hung over the barrack like an old woolen winter coat. I could hear the steady breathing of the girls around me. I was so tired that even the wooden bunk felt comfortable. My work with the dogs was satisfying but tiring. I’d quickly learned here that normal everyday desires, like taking a nap or going to the bathroom, or eating a snack, or getting a drink of fresh, cool water without permission were strictly forbidden. It dawned on me how regimented my life had become. Almost every normal freedom I’d taken for granted was not something I could even consider or act on now. I missed those small freedoms tremendously.

One of the drawbacks to more daylight and warmer weather meant the Germans could keep us working longer hours. It seemed like the work was endless. We were never in a hurry to finish a job because they always came up with another one. If the guards could tell we were stalling and taking too long to complete a task, the yelling and hitting would encourage us to speed it up. The threat of missing a meal seemed to have the biggest impact on us, though.

With any luck at all we’d be out of this camp soon. The Polish underground assured us that the war was close to ending. Germany was being pushed back on all fronts. It seemed possible that they were close to the point of collapse. We also had the Red Cross visit to look forward to. Perhaps the delegates could inform us about an end to the war, or how the end would be handled when it finally arrived. How would we be transported home?

I didn’t know, however, if we’d be permitted to speak with them. The Germans, on the other hand, were acting more and
more confident every day. Usually we only had to listen to the commander’s crazy speeches about Germany’s greatness once a month. Now, however, it seemed like we were hearing these speeches weekly. It reminded me of a dog that is cornered, bares its teeth and growls out of fear.

We’d already heard, months ago, that the Soviets had turned on Germany. Germany broke the pact with Russia in June of 1941. The Soviets had helped in the destruction of our country but now they were no longer allies with Germany. Until now, the Polish Resistance had been involved in sabotage, reprisal and diversion tactics against the Germans. The main goal was to weaken their potential and lower their morale. Factory, farm and railroad workers all found ways to delay and damage machinery that supported Germany’s economic value and war economy. Polish laborers functioned under the motto, “As little, as late and as slow as possible.” Sabotage activities of average Polish citizens were so all-encompassing that it was viewed as effective as several divisions fighting on the front. Direct contact with the Germans, however, was side-stepped because it resulted in vicious punishments. Perhaps the end of the war was closer than we realized, but for now, I just needed sleep.

Anna cuddled up next to me on our narrow bunk. My concern for her was always on my mind. She’d been more tired than usual lately even though we were getting more food. I blamed the hunger – always the gnawing, grinding, empty feeling of not having enough food. The hunger was like a herding dog, tenacious, constant, never giving up. I had to find a way to sneak some dog food to her, but how? I didn’t want Anna to go see the camp doctor so I had to find a way to strengthen her. Maybe my dreams would show me how to help her. I closed my heavy eyelids, sinking into the luxury of sleep. The last thing I remember was a childhood song playing in my head. I didn’t wake until I heard the soldiers yelling and the air raid sirens going off.

Rags flying, arms and legs flailing like windmills, we leaped off our beds. There was no place for us to go except under the stacked wooden bunks. Quickly and quietly we crammed ourselves under the lowest bed. We didn’t dare leave the barrack. The air raid shelters spaced at regular intervals around the perimeter of the camp were for the soldiers only. They were close to the barracks and open enough for the guards to see us and shoot us if we tried to leave the building. We didn’t utter a sound; we just listened. We could hear the loud blasts of bombs hitting targets somewhere outside the camp. Occasionally, we felt the floor shake from the concussion of a bomb, but the most terrifying thing was the sound of it all, and the feeling of helplessness. I said a quick prayer asking that all the prisoners’ barracks be spared. I hoped Hardy was safe.

I closed my eyes tightly and wrapped my arms around Anna, saying, “It will be over soon, Anna, don’t cry.”

Anna was terrified and cried silently, sobs shaking her body.

“Someday this will all be over, Anna, we’ll be ok and this will be a distant memory to us.”

What else could I say? How do you tell a terrified person not to be afraid, especially when she had every right to be frightened? The night air raids were coming more frequently. How did they know which areas to bomb and which to avoid? I often wondered if our rescuers knew we were down here. For now, all I could offer her was a strong embrace and soothing words. I silently prayed that this would pass quickly. No matter how uncomfortable my bed was, at least it was better than the floor. Was it the chill of the spring night air, or the circumstance of being bombed that caused me to shiver? I could not lie here much longer, and my back was starting to ache. The thin straw mats that lined our bunks weren’t much, but they did offer padding against the wood we laid our bodies on. I think we might have been as safe in our beds as under them, but I didn’t want to risk getting caught disobeying.

As the baby birds prepare for their first flight, they practice by jumping up from the ground floor of the nest, and then take small flights near the nest
.

Mercy is showing affection, altruism, and compassion. I’m not sure if it’s harder showing emotions you don’t feel, or harder hiding what you shouldn’t feel. Navigating through these feelings was confusing even as some things were becoming very clear. I needed to hide my feelings of affection for Anna and Hardy, but only when guards were present or watching. I needed to show the guards respect even though I felt contempt for them. It was a slippery slope for me. I had to pay attention to my feelings all the time, and recognize when to ignore them and when to act on them.

* * *

Anna and I jumped up quickly and folded our ragged blankets and placed them on the end of our bunk the minute we heard the morning siren. I was so tired last night that I didn’t remember climbing back into bed after the air raid. We grabbed our metal cups and headed for the soup line. Word quickly spread down the line that we had potatoes and some sausage in our soup again this morning! This would be good for us, especially Anna. We were starting to get potatoes, vegetables and some meat a bit more often because of the Red Cross visit. It didn’t make sense to me though, because potatoes were only just now being planted, not harvested. After they filled our cups I noticed it was not the usual potato peels, but actual potatoes. In the past, only the
soldiers received the potatoes in their soup, along with other vegetables and meat.

Grateful for the hearty soup, we grabbed our bread and headed to the sun to sit and eat. We only had a short time to eat and use the bathroom before roll call and job assignments began. Today the weather was warm and sunny – a perfect spring day. Surely I would see another stork today. I recalled how the villages used to celebrate spring’s arrival. Actually, the stork celebrations were more of a combination between the end of Lent and the beginning of Easter celebration. Spring was always a busy time on our farm. There were certain routines you could count on season after season, year after year, much like the church traditions and the nature of the storks. There were all kinds of baby animals being born, seeds and crops to plant, spring cleaning in the house and barn. It was a very hectic time of year and one of my favorite seasons. I longed for the realization of rebirth that nature brought in the springtime.

Anna was unusually quiet even after eating the hearty soup.

“Anna, are you ok?”

She only nodded yes. She had a far-away look in her eyes and a faint smile on her face. I knew she was thinking about something or someone from a happier time.

“Anna, there’s something I need to tell you but you must promise me that you won’t breathe a word of it to anyone…you promise?”

She nodded again and lifted her tired eyes to look at me.

“Yesterday, when I was finished taking care of the dogs and getting ready to leave the kennels, I overheard a soldier speaking to another soldier about planning an escape because the end of the war was coming and Germany was losing! You’ve got to promise me, Anna, that you won’t give up, promise me!”

Anna shook her head slowly up and down as if contemplating was using too much energy. I put my hand on her shoulder to reassure her; wincing at the frailty of what I felt.

Even with the extra soup and milk, the years of war had taken their toll on Anna’s health. It wasn’t just here that we were denied food. It was all over Poland, and all over Europe. People were starving everywhere. Everyone, except the German soldiers; they individually received more food in one day than a Polish child received in one week. Pursuing genocide by malnutrition was exactly what Hermann Goering, in charge of national defense, had in mind when he openly declared, “If anyone goes hungry, it certainly would not be the Germans.” This belief was consistent with the Nazi view that the Poles were racially inferior and needed less food. When I came to this camp, most of the children arrived here looking thin but somewhat healthy. I noticed as the war progressed, more and more of the children arrived starved, and already suffering from malnutrition. Anna was skin and bones. She desperately needed food. I had to get her some.

“Anna, I’ll sneak you some food today, just please, don’t give up.”

She looked at me again, with sadness and resignation in her eyes.

“Come on, we must use the bathroom before roll call.” I helped her up and placed our cups in the wash tub near the camp kitchen.

I wondered if the lessons she was learning in the new school were upsetting her. As I waited in line to use the bathroom, I asked Berta if she knew anything about the lessons in the school. I knew she had gone through some schooling under the Germanization program.

Berta looked around, then pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. It was from the math book. She showed me one of the math
questions. “A bomber aircraft on takeoff carries 12 dozen bombs
,
each weighing 10 kilos. The aircraft takes off for Warsaw. It bombs the town, killing as many Poles as possible. On takeoff with all bombs on board and a fuel tank containing 100 kilos of fuel, the aircraft weighed about 8 tons. When it returns from the crusade, there are still 230 kilos
left. What is the weight of the aircraft when empty?”

She also told me that all of the questions in their math books promoted Nazi beliefs. No wonder Anna felt so upset after listening to those questions. It would be like taking a bath in a mud puddle and expecting to come out clean. Even children recognize humiliation and disrespect. There’s a place in your soul that is bruised by it.

We took our places in formation, sun hitting our backs, listening to the camp commander drone on about the camp rules and the great importance of doing our best for Germany. The Red Cross visit must be getting close, but we still hadn’t received instructions for the stork festival or the songs we were supposed to perform. Even though the sun was warm on my back I could see Anna shivering. She was so skinny it scared me. Worry paid a visit to my stomach, causing a hunger-like twinge to tie it in knots. I said a quick prayer that she would survive until liberation. It had to be soon, but would it be soon enough?

I already knew my work assignment for the day, but stayed near Anna until she got hers. Good, she was assigned to the camp kitchen, where she would peel potatoes and help prepare soup.

“Anna, try to eat some potato peels today, ok? But don’t get caught!”

I was so glad she was getting a break from school today; besides, she would have an opportunity to steal some food. I squeezed Anna’s hand. I wanted to hug her and protect her. She smiled and slowly headed in the direction of the camp kitchen, head down, shoulders rounded, with the posture of an old woman.

“Please God, help Anna today.”

The soldier escorting me to the kennels had arrived. I took a deep breath, my eyes concentrating on the ground; my heart yearned for someone to see our humanity and treat us with mercy.