I Will Plant You a Lilac Tree (7 page)

When I saw the Nazis walking toward the infirmary, I was suddenly struck with unexplained terror. I retreated into the corner, behind the cast-iron stove, as though I could make myself invisible.

Soon the door opened. The tallest of the SS men entered first. His uniform was decorated with medals. “The camp infirmary, Herr Commandant,” the man from the
Judenrat
explained. “Very efficient; it meets all the camp's needs.”

But the commandant paid little attention. His gaze was directed at me, behind the stove.

“Are you hiding from me?” he asked cheerfully. His speech was slurred, as if he'd had too much to drink.

I avoided looking at him. That made him roar with laughter.

“She is pretty, but can she talk?”

“Herr Commandant,” one of his men said, “we've just been told the girl is retarded.”

“Nonsense. She is not retarded. She is afraid of me. We'll take her with us to Kra
nik. We need a nurse.”

There was some whispering; then the man from the
Judenrat
stepped forward.

“The girl is not a nurse, Herr Commandant.”

“Do not contradict me. I said she was coming with us. Pack her up!”

No longer interested in the infirmary, the SS men departed, leaving the man from the
Judenrat
behind.

“You'd better get yourself ready right away. We'll be leaving shortly,” he said to me. I was still crouched behind the stove.

“I cannot leave,” I said. “I have a younger brother in this camp. He is not well. He needs me!”

“Whether your brother needs you or not is unimportant. The commandant asked for you, and we'd better do as he says. Considering the state he was in, he may not remember you by the time we get back to
Kra
nik, but I can't take that chance.”

“Hannelore, do as he tells you.” Janek's voice seemed far away. “You are the lucky one. The rest of us are going to Budzyn, where Untersturmführer Feix reigns.”

“Don't you see, Janek? I can't go!” I cried. “How is Selly to survive on his own? And did you see the way that drunkard looked at me?”

“You may not know it, Hannelore, but Kra
nik is a paradise. You'll see when you get there. I wish I could go.”

“I don't care about this paradise if I can't take Selly along. And what if the Nazi remembers me? What then?”

The man from the
Judenrat
grew impatient. “It will be my neck if you are not in Kra
nik, so stop arguing and forget the idea of taking your brother along.”

I ran across the camp looking for Selly. Sometimes he would be near the kitchen, hoping to catch some potato peelings or anything else that was edible. Today he was
not there, nor was he in his barrack. After gathering my few possessions, I went to say good-bye to the woman who had befriended me, then hurried back to the infirmary to leave a note with Janek.

Please explain to Selly what happened
, I wrote.
And, Janek, he needs help!

•   •   •

We went by military truck. There were only four other inmates from Belzyce and the man from the
Judenrat
. One SS guard drove, while the other rode behind us in the back. I was terrified the entire trip by the thought of the drunken commandant and what he might have planned for me.

By the time the truck stopped, night had fallen. An SS guard opened the gate to a dimly lit compound. There were no barracks here, only private houses. A wire fence surrounded the houses, but aside from that, one would not have known this was a camp holding Jewish prisoners. Janek's words
came to mind: “Kra
nik is a paradise.”

The driver called to a Jewish policeman patrolling the grounds: “Avraham, go wake my daughter. Tell her I need a bed for the night for this girl. You find a place for the men.”

A short time later the policeman came back. “Your daughter was not very happy having her sleep disturbed, Manek.”

Manek mumbled something while leading me into a house. We walked through a long corridor, stopping at the end.

“You can stay here for the night.”

There was a full moon. Its reflection cast a glow over the lace curtains covering the windows. I had not seen such a beautiful sight in a very long time.
My God
, I thought,
how is it possible that Jews still live like this? Perhaps this
is
paradise
.

Out of habit I placed my meager belongings under my head as I prepared to lie down on the soft couch, a long-forgotten luxury. At last I fell asleep dreaming of Mama in her Shabbat dress.

When the first rays of sunshine filtered
through the curtains, I rose. I saw women dressed in oversized shawls walking toward the gate, returning a short time later with pitchers of milk. What kind of world had I stumbled into, I wondered, where Jews drink milk and live in houses?

“I have brought you breakfast,” a woman entering the room said. She was rather plump and looked well cared for. Aware of the shabbiness of my own clothes, I felt embarrassed. In Belzyce I had looked like a beggar, as did all the inmates. Here I stood out like one.

I marveled at the delicacies put before me. There was real coffee and slices of bread with white cheese. Later in the day Manek explained to me that my presence here had created a problem.

“Frankly, I don't quite know what to do with you. I have called the
Judenrat
together; perhaps they have a solution.”

Eyeing me with suspicion, members of the
Judenrat
questioned Manek. “Did you at least
try talking him out of bringing her here?”

“Do you have to ask? Of course I tried, but you know him when he is drunk and sees a pretty face. If we are lucky, he will have forgotten about her already. However, I couldn't take the chance of leaving her behind. What if he
does
remember her?”

“You mishandled the situation!” Angry shouts filled the room. “She is your responsibility.
You
take care of her.”

From the first day on I was made to feel like an unwelcome intruder. I was excluded from gatherings, shunned by the other inmates. The commandant, however, didn't ask for me. I was quite sure he didn't remember me at all, and that was lucky.

Aside from being lonely, the calm and relative peace that existed in Kra
nik was a welcome change. In Belzyce people had to beg for food, but everyone here was well fed. I was given food and a room of my own in one of the houses in exchange for cleaning and washing clothes.

Manek, who was obviously the head of the
Judenrat
here, took me aside and told me that I would be working in the front office at the camp's reception desk.

“Since you speak flawless German, this is a perfect place for you. I must warn you, however. Do not probe into our affairs, ever. This is a warning. You are a guest here, but that can change at any time.”

Since I didn't know how the camp operated and why it was so comfortable here—why everyone had a decent house, enough food, and why there were few SS men around—I didn't know what to think. This was no ordinary labor camp.

My work began the same day. It was easy, and I was glad to have something to do. When the phone rang, I answered it in German. Almost everyone asked to speak to Manek. He assured them in his halting German, mixed with Yiddish, that it was all right to make an appointment through the new receptionist. She
was completely trustworthy. The callers usually identified themselves by rank. There was a Captain Schlesinger, a Colonel Weiler from the Waffen-SS, even several Polish officials. The question they posed was always the same: “Fräulein, are you sure no one else is coming this afternoon?”

I was at my desk every morning making appointments, greeting people. But there wasn't enough work to keep me busy. Sometimes other inmates dropped by the office. They began to trust me more and more and started talking to me. A Jewish dentist used a room above the reception area as an office. He treated patients from within the camp as well as outsiders, SS people, and Poles. When he wasn't busy, he'd drop by my desk making small talk. One day I questioned him about Kra
nik, about how this place worked. He walked away without answering, and I didn't see him again for many weeks. Everyone I talked to was evasive. Finally I understood: They were afraid I might betray
them. And I had nothing to contribute to a camp where, evidently, everyone had to pay to remain there.