Bone and Blood (19 page)

‘So how did you get out – was the War over then? Did you really run away into the woods and then get a train back to Berlin?'

Brigitte laughed her throaty laugh, ‘Almost true. So what's wrong with that?'

‘Not a thing,' Aisling replied, knowing now that she would hear more.

‘Katharina says Irma told her we were freed by the Soviet army. But Irma would say that. Even now she is still some sort of Communist. I don't talk to her about politics. We weren't freed by anyone. It was more being ready to take the… the what?' Brigitte stopped, ‘So many words in German and in English and sometimes I can find neither of them – die Gelegenheit.'

‘Chance, opportunity,' Aisling prompted.

‘You know more German than you let on, young lady, you should practise it more. You never know when it will come in useful. Das blinde Huhn findet auch einmal ein Korn.'

‘Die hund? What has the dog finding its corner got to do with anything?' Aisling asked.

Brigitta laughed so much she nearly choked. ‘I said the blind hen can always find some corn. Huhn for hen, hund for dog, Korn for corn not Corner for corner.'

Aisling blushed. She hated being made to feel a fool. ‘So what actually happened? What did you do?'

Brigitte coughed new wind into her sails from the laughter and took a breath, ‘There was no point trying to get past guards in the camp – getting caught and then everyone in the block would be punished. I wouldn't have risked that – not even for Irma. The guards were more and more jumpy so we knew something was happening. Irma found out that they planned to move us to another place. There were so many movements of people in and out; none of us knew what would happen from one day to the next. Every day there were whispers that the Russians were getting closer on the Eastern Front. Irma pieced together every snippet of news. Even the Zeugen Jehovahs would listen to her. They were more afraid of the Russians than the German guards and many planned to flee with the families of the German guards if they got a chance. Irma told me always to be ready and to stay close to her. She didn't need to tell me. I clung to her like a baby – night and day. She told me I should try to keep some bread if I could. Hard as it was, I managed a bit,' Brigitte paused and lit a cigarette.

Aisling watched the smoke rise and breathed in, telling herself it was a joint. An imaginary joint was good enough in this strange new space of listening and watching herself and this old woman, who was becoming more and more of a person as the days went by. The young Brigitte from the War didn't fit so easily into ‘the aunt' box.

‘Waiting is the worst,' Brigitte breathed out another column of smoke into the streak of sunlight that crossed the room, bringing with it the sticky heat of the street. Aisling sat in cut-offs and a sleeveless t-shirt with her legs slung over the arm of the sofa.

‘You are a persuasive young lady. You make me want to talk. But you must first show me your drawings.'

‘What drawings?'

‘The drawings in the book beside you. You told me you wanted to tell Anna's story with drawings like a comic-strip with only a few words?

‘I haven't done any drawings of the camp yet,' Aisling lied.

‘Take care not to make lying a bad habit, young lady.'

‘O.K. so I've made a few sketches but nothing I could show anyone yet.'

‘You have no need to be shy with me.'

‘I'm not shy. I'll show you later. You didn't finish the story of your escape and you haven't told me why they put you in there in the first place.'

‘When we knew the war was nearly over, it fed hope. We watched the guards make a big circus tent to house women who came from other camps. You could hear it flap in the wind. Those creatures barely had latrines and no tap for water. No beds. If they were lucky they had something to lie on. I could see them sometimes with their spoons held up to catch the rain or their faces and mouths open. Irma risked her life many times in those last days of chaos to take a bucket of water to them. To me, she whispered words – not long now. We knew something was brewing when the Red Cross came and Suhren let them take several thousand of women with them.'

‘Suhren?'

‘The camp chief, a name without a face for ordinary inmates like me. Irma found out he allowed the Red Cross to take prisoners of war from England, France, Denmark and Belgium. It was rumoured there were well-known women among them and Suhren was hoping that they would speak up for him later. Irma tried to persuade me to put myself forward with the other Irish.'

‘There were more Irish in the camp?' Aisling found that unexpected.

‘Only two. They were Irish but they were in the British army. Probably undercover agents. We managed whispers across the brick line on the building work. I was glad it wasn't easy for us to meet. I didn't want any part in the war. All through the war Ireland stayed neutral. I was afraid the Red Cross would send me to England or back to Ireland. If the war was really over, I wanted to go back to Berlin. My love affair with Germany wasn't over in spite of Hitler. I trusted Irma more than any of them, so I stayed with her. She knew they would move us all in a few days.'

‘So you didn't escape?'

‘Not so quick, young lady. It took time. They moved the end blocks first on 27
^th
April. From the size of the first column, Irma worked out that there would be at least three lots of us and we would be in the second or last. The guards were even more jumpy than usual. We hardly slept that night – more waiting and waiting, then it happened so fast. Appell was even earlier than usual. They called out the numbers of those they were moving. I listened so hard that I didn't even hear my number but Irma nodded to me. I followed her every step. We breathed the sharp air of dawn. I said goodbye to Anna when the sky turned pink over the tall pine trees. Everything was confused and disorderly leaving the camp. If you were lucky you could find some of your belongings on the tables made ready for those of us in the column. I got my bundle tied up in Delia's Sunday tablecloth – just as I had left it. The most amazing thing was the Red Cross parcel we were given as we left. We didn't even have time to open it as they marched us out. It was cumbersome to carry but the whispers of bread and sugar kept the string tied to our numb fingers.'

Aisling poured them both some water then sketched a few outlines in her book, ready to work on later. The aunt watched her but continued with her story without commenting on her drawings.

‘There were about five hundred of us in our group. Even Irma had no idea where we were headed but I could see her take bearings. As the sun rose, it made the steam rise on the cool earth like a low mist. I thanked Anna's God she was dead already; she would never make it through this. The first day we walked non-stop. We were marched so fast we almost had to run, those wooden clogs flaying the skin on my feet. First we were on the main road in the direction of Neustrelitz but not for long. There was a sign KZ, which led us into the forest. Irma was happy when we crossed the train tracks. She was obsessed with trains. She needed trains to be there to reassure her she would make it back to Vienna. All day we could hear the sound of cannon from the east – the Russians. Irma liked that too. Well she would, she was a communist and saw the Russians as her allies but the Zeugen Jehovahs were more terrified than ever. At that point I didn't care about anything except putting one clog in front of the other. At times I was sorry I didn't ask to be among the Red Cross group. We had little energy or little breath to talk,' Brigitte stopped to take breath.

Aisling was afraid she would fall back into a doze and stop the story, ‘and the escape..,' she prompted.

‘The escape… ' Brigitte paused again, ‘Well, I knew Irma was planning to use this march as a chance to escape. It was a matter of time and luck. Moving too soon meant death. Too late could mean being caught up in the last struggle with the Russians coming from the East. Even the Zeugen Jehovahs were thinking escape at this point. Irma watched and waited. One woman in our column who tried to disappear into the trees was spotted and the guard went after her and shot her on the spot. Better to wait – something would have to happen soon. Later we came close to the main road again and now we walked alongside the railway and sometimes we could see the main road full of people – German soldiers, trucks, civilians.'

Brigitte stopped to take some water and Aisling poured some more.

‘I don't know to this day how Irma picked up the rumours that the Germans were planning to blow up the munitions factory at Fürstensee in the afternoon. Irma had antennae and could pick a whisper from thin air. She must have overheard the guards and understood why they marched us at such speed. We found out later the local people were told in the middle of the afternoon what would happen so they had to leave their homes. Irma's eyes were bright with warning when the time came to pass on the news. Sure enough at some time in the afternoon of 28
^th
April, there was a sudden almighty explosion – so close everyone in our column including the guards ran for more cover among the trees. We intermingled with some local Germans who were taking refuge in the forest.'

Aisling fiddled with her pencil. Making more notes now. This part would be better told without any words. And the faces full of terror?

‘Were you more afraid of the explosion or the guards?'

‘There wasn't time to be afraid. Everything was so confused. We didn't know whether the guards were still with us or not, or whether they would come and shoot us on the spot for running. From the Bifos in our group, we heard some of the women guards were waiting for the chance to run away and some of the Bifos from our block had joined with them, but there were other guards ready to shoot any prisoner. Irma pushed us through exhaustion deeper and deeper into the wet marshy land. They couldn't reach us with jeeps there and it was hard for the dogs to keep track. Later in the evening a group of us collapsed on the damp ground. Irma found a spot for us to sleep on the damp earth under the trees near a lake. At first it was so welcome just to lie there and breathe in the smell of clean earth and trees but after a couple of hours, the cold woke us. We all knew by then that blowing up the munitions dump was a sure sign the war was over. We celebrated by washing our feet and our faces in the lake by moonlight. Irma pushed us to walk through the rest of the night. Sometimes a stumble on a tree root would wake me as I dozed.'

‘What, you slept while you were walking along?' Aisling cocked her head to one side.

‘When you are tired enough, you can sleep anywhere, even on your feet.'

Aisling wanted to tell Brigitte to wipe the trace of chocolate from the corner of her mouth. It took the edge off the drama. The march of prisoners with their German guards – right in the middle of the war with the advance of the Russians on the one side – was something to live through. A good antidote for boredom. Enough terror and heroism to match any comic but rooted too. How to get over the confusion and keep the sequence easy to follow?

‘So if the Russians were coming close to you, where were the Americans and the British?'

‘I don't know about the British but the next day we saw American planes in the sky. It was on the third morning when the sound of birds singing woke me, I knew something had happened. Irma was awake already. Later we learnt that by then the Russians were already at Fürstensee. So we knew either the Russians or the Americans would round up the rest of the soldiers and guards. So we were free. Free to be hungry in the middle of no-where. Free to wait for crazy guards to shoot us for fear we would incriminate them. Irma and I still had something of our Red Cross parcel and we breakfasted from that – bread sprinkled with a bit of sugar. We drank the water from the lake. We hid during the day in a hollow. Irma made us collect twigs and branches to conceal us from guards fleeing the same way. We shared the last of our Red Cross parcel. Irma was elated – the Communists were going to rebuild a better world and she would be alive to see it. She knew better than to say as much to the Bifos though, and even joined with them when they prayed in thanksgiving.'

Aisling struggled to picture this group in the woods, ‘So how many of you escaped?'

‘Well there were lots of groups who had done the same as us. At first, there were about thirty of us still together. Irma's clogs cut her feet and mine were in shreds but now we could stop and pad them with moss or leaves from time to time and wash our feet in the lake. When it came towards night on the third day more and more small groups split off, looking for somewhere to shelter. It was hard to sleep on the cold earth even though we were exhausted. We were left in a group of seven. Five of the Jehovah Zeugen, Irma and myself.'

Aisling twisted her hair around her fingers. She was listening but it was hypnotic, this slow unfolding of the action. Her mind wandered a little. Was it time to have her hair cut off short when she went back? Some way of marking the change of plan for her life.

Brigitte shivered, ‘I can feel the special chill air of those nights in my bones even now. It was April but cold in the open air when we were wet through. Without Irma even then I could have lain down and died. I would have been happy with the freedom to die there under the open sky with no guards to kick us to death. But it took the Bratkartoffeln to make us cry.'

‘Fried potatoes made you cry?'

‘One evening we came to the edge of a small village. There was a small house with barns attached. Irma suggested Hannelore, one of the Bifos knock the door and ask for shelter. Irma was clever; Hannelore was a country woman and German too. The rest of us waited in the trees. Hannelore came back to tell us that an old woman came to the door who was even more terrified than we were. She could hear children whispering somewhere inside. The old woman said we could sleep the night in the barn. Later we learnt that there was an old man there too. Their son was killed on the Eastern Front and their daughter worked on the railway. They were openly relieved most of the group were not foreigners and seemed surprised to meet people not unlike themselves who spoke German. In the evening we smelt the potatoes and onions frying. Our mouths were watering as we talked about whether we dared ask them for something to eat. Then the old woman came with two large pans of fried potato and onions and put them down for us on a bale of straw. They even gave us a jug of milk. We all cried then. At first the old woman couldn't understand. ‘Tut mir leid, tut mir leid,' she kept saying but whatever she was sorry for, we never really knew. She smiled when Hannelore kissed her hand and said prayers of thanks. Laughing it off with, ‘Tears are good because we are short of salt.' She brought the old man – her husband – out to sit on the bale of straw. They wanted to know if Drewin had been bombed in the great explosion. They had some relations there.

‘Irma was able to tell them about the munitions dump and as far as we knew there were no civilians killed. The old couple were more afraid of the Russians than prisoners or German guards and were keen for us to stay although it meant they had to share their store of potatoes. When their daughter, Dorothea, came home, she took us into the house and allowed us to sleep in their loft. I could have stayed longer but Irma was keen to move on. Dorothea was able to tell us about the railway. Many trains had stopped running but the connection to Neustrelitz had been working fine all through the war.'

Aisling flicked her hair back. She enjoyed the new sensation in her stomach. The need to get this story out, to get it to work as it was unfolding in her head. She would experiment with a long strip – mixing styles with and the sharper German graphic of “Der Erste Frühling” blended all into her the unique montage of memory. She wanted to pin down this reality.

‘Can you show me on a map where you were?' she asked.

‘Maps! Maps indeed,' Brigitte sent out a snort of smoke. ‘Katharina has maps. She wanted to go there to walk in the woods. She wanted me show her on the map where we walked but what do I know of maps? She went anyway. She got her pass to cross the border even before the wall came down. I followed her to the crossing point at Friedrichstraße to watch her queue there. It was the first time I spotted the Jules. I wanted to watch her leave me because I thought she might never come back. When she came back she made it sound so easy. ‘We took a train to Fürstenberg,' she told me. ‘We?' I asked – ‘who's we?' ‘My friend, Monika,' she said it as if she had told me but she hadn't. ‘We had a beautiful Spring day in the woods,' she said. ‘But it was eerie too. Like a graveyard.' I told her I had seen enough of those woods when we were marched out of that place. They didn't make it to Wesenberg – it took longer than they planned and they had to get back across the border.'