Wildflowers of Terezin (42 page)

"Hmm. Not good," said Dr. Janecek, craning his neck just a little to see. "And what else does the brother say?"

"He says he's taking care of him, but that Steffen had a terrible rash across his face and neck, and down his chest and back. He's doing everything he can, but . . ." The words had blurred and she turned away as she handed him the letter. Dr.Janecek scanned the rest of the letter and frowned.

"Fever, rash, unaffected area around the mouth . . . Sounds like he's describing scarlet fever. I've lost people to scarlet fever, but mostly young people." He read on to the end of the letter, then set it aside. "He should have taken him to the hospital for treatment. There's a very promising new treatment in the United States, I hear. Something called penicillin.They say it's an antibiotic, something they've been working on for decades. What I wouldn't give for some of that."

"They wouldn't have it at Bispebjerg," she whispered, and it was sadly true. What could they do for him at the hospital, that Henning couldn't do himself at home? Still she wished Henning had taken Steffen to the hospital, as well.

"But this is written nearly two weeks ago." Dr. Janecek handed her back the letter. "I'm sure he's fine by now. It usually takes its course in a week or two."

Usually, yes. But she also knew the potential deadly effects of scarlet fever. She nodded, but Henning's words played over and over in her head.

"I'm sorry," he'd written. "He's very sick this time. Worse even than before."

THERESIENSTADT

MONDAY MORNING, 5 FEBRUARY 1945

The tyrant dies and his rule is over,

the martyr dies and his rule begins.

—SØREN KIERKEGAARD

H
anne thought he might have written her by now, but nearly three months had gone by. And as she went about trying to stay alive during what everyone knew was the last days of a dying regime, she couldn't help wondering.

What's wrong with you, Steffen? Why don't you write?

"Hanne, are you with us?" The doctor's words brought her back to the present, and he nodded at the arm they were stitching. "Then please apply some gauze there to the wound."

"Of course, doctor." She would have done it automatically, had she not been lost in her own world. And afterward she would have apologized to Dr. Janecek, had he not mentioned it first.

"We all have a lot on our minds," he said, washing in a simple basin. "I take it you haven't heard from him?"

She shook her head, thinking at first that she didn't want to talk about it. But who else would understand?

"Not since the note from his brother about his illness," she finally told him as she cleaned up some of the instruments they'd been using. "And that's been weeks, now."

"That doesn't necessarily mean what you think," he replied as he lowered his voice. "Everyone knows it's chaos out there as the Americans and the Russians advance. You expect a letter to reach you under these circumstances?"

"Well . . ."

"Of course you don't. We haven't had a Red Cross package for a long time. And you see now they're cleaning up the camp once again."

"I hadn't noticed."

He chuckled. "You don't notice anything outside the walls of this little clinic, these days. I invite you to take a look around and tell me what you see. The cleanup, for instance, can only mean one thing."

"Not another Red Cross inspection?"

"Yes, another Red Cross inspection. Let me tell you a secret.You know that strutting SS man who visited here last week? That
macher,
the big shot? Do you know who that was?"

Hanne shook her head no.

"His name was Adolph Eichmann. A very important offi- cial, by the way everyone acted around him. It was "Herr Obersturmbannführer this, and Herr Obersturmbannführer that. You see how he was making some kind of inspection? Then I heard one of his assistants say that everything is nearly ready for April 6."

"How do you hear all this?"

"I keep my eyes and my ears open, my dear Nurse Hanne, which is something you do not do. But here's what I think: Your Danish rabbi friend is going to find a way to be on that inspection team."

"I'm not so sure."

"I am." He clapped his hands dry in the air. "You just remember my words. You'll see him again in just a few weeks."

Hanne didn't officially allow herself to believe the doctor's prediction. But she couldn't help counting the days to April 6, especially after they were told by the gendarmes to clean up the clinic and make sure that it smelled especially good by that date.

"Look at this place!" The doctor held up his hands before the gendarme could leave. "Does it look to you as if it needs any more cleaning?"

"I'm just telling you." The young gendarme shrugged and headed for the door.

"Well, kindly tell your commander that the clinic will be spotless as always, and that we'll be looking forward to the Red Cross visiting here on the sixth."

The gendarme stopped in his tracks, obviously trying to recall when he'd mentioned anything about the Red Cross or their expected arrival time. He shook his head momentarily, said nothing in return, and pushed through the door.Dr. Janecek glanced over at Hanne with a grin and a wink.

"What did I tell you? Three more days."

Which happened to be three of the longest days in Hanne's life, as she helped clean the clinic while also helping Dr. Janecek and tending to their usual variety of patients.Most were older, these days, since the younger and more able-bodied had already been transported to death camps in Poland and elsewhere. But somehow April 6 arrived as promised, and with it the expected flurry of advance SS guards, German officers, and Red Cross officials in civilian dress. Hanne stood next to Dr. Janecek, presiding over a scrubbed exam table and a newly stocked supply cabinet.As the inspection team entered she scanned the crowd—and recognized no one other than the camp's Kommandant Karl Rahm.

"The clinic, ja?" He swept his hand around as if it might be self-explanatory. "You are of course welcome to examine anything you like. Otherwise we will proceed."

One of the Red Cross men did seem curious, running his finger along the edge of a counter as if looking for dust. With his trimmed black beard and serious expression, he seemed to Hanne just like a government inspector. And when he approached a little closer, Dr. Janecek extended his hand.

"Dr. LaPorte," he told the visitor, "we're glad you're here."

"I wish under better circumstances." The man shook Dr.Janecek's hand and looked quizzically at Dr. Janecek. "But do I know you, sir?"

"We met at a medical conference in Geneva," answered Dr.Janecek. "Before the war. I'm sure you don't remember."

"I'm sorry, no."

"Well, that doesn't matter. Actually, I wonder if I might ask you a brief question."

The other doctor glanced around the room as if he might be found out, but he needn't have worried. The others—including the kommandant—seemed quite unconcerned. And Dr. Janecek didn't wait for the Red Cross man to respond.

"We're wondering about one of your Red Cross colleagues," he said, "a Dane named Petersen. Steffen Petersen. We assumed he might be with you this trip, as he was here on the first inspection last June."

Pierre shook his head, and Hanne's heart fell.

"I never met the man, but I was sorry to hear the news recently."

"The news?" asked Hanne. She did not want to hear this.She wanted to run away from what she feared would be his next words. He looked from the doctor's face to hers with pained surprise, then bit his lip.

"Yes, of course. How would you know? I only heard through Red Cross channels. I'm very sorry to tell you that Herr Petersen died last month. He was actually on the list of delegates to be included on this trip, since from his earlier experience he could offer a valuable frame of reference. I believe it was complications from scarlet fever."

He must have recognized Hanne's shock, though she turned away with her head in her hand. She escaped into a storage room.

"No, no, no!" she sobbed quietly and slid down the door to sit in the darkness. Why this, and why now? She had witnessed more death in the past year than in all her professional career combined. But she had survived. She should have been able to deal with it as a nurse.

She should have learned how to deal with watching innocent children suffering from typhus or being mowed down by viruses they could not treat. Yet a part of her had died every time a child had died in her arms.

And now this. Nothing had prepared her for this unseen horror, which wasn't even here where she could see it. As she sat on the cold tile floor she literally felt her soul deflate into darkness. Whatever small hope God had given her in this walled prison, He had just taken away. And whatever future she had hoped for now lay shattered in the wake of a casual meeting with a complete stranger.

A soft knock on the door she leaned upon made her sit up straight, but she made no other move.

"Hanne?" Dr. Janecek called her from the other side."Hanne, are you in there?"

But Hanne didn't answer, just sat still when he tried the doorknob but did not force the door open. He must have known she was sitting there.

"They're gone, Hanne. But I'll be here if you want to talk."

The doctor was kind, beyond sweet. But at the moment talking was the last thing she wanted. After he finally left her alone she just curled up into a ball in the darkness of the closet, broken and desolate, feeling more alone than she had ever known was possible.

And she wept.