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Authors: Rena Kornreich Gelissen,Heather Dune Macadam

Tags: #Biography & Autobiography, #Historical, #test

Rena's Promise (45 page)

BOOK: Rena's Promise
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mind myself to be silent, but there are moans escaping from my body which I have no control over. It is as if pins dance in my veins and puncture my lungs. I pant and heave, but cannot vomit.
"Get cold compresses! Water!" I hear the nurse order her assistants. I can feel something wet on my skin.
Minutes . . . hours . . . I do not know how long I thrash and writhe in agony, incapable of controlling my limbs. The compresses seem to help. I scream when they change them. Danka's face is stained with tears.
In a fugue state I hover just above unconsciousness. The body sleeps fitfully, waking me with its sporadic twitching as the poison does its work. My mind is far away.
The morning light in the block hurts my eyes. "How do you feel?" Danka's voice wakes me.
"Terrible." I can barely mouth the words. She holds her finger up to her mouth, indicating for me to lie quietly.
"Something went wrong, I don't know what, but it was close. The nurse said you'll feel weak today, but tomorrow you'll feel better and in a few days your voice should start to return to normal." She hands me a cup full of water. I gulp it thirstily.
"Thank you." I try to speak again.
"Shhh." Danka smiles. "Rest now."
It takes a few weeks, but slowly my voice does return to normal.
<><><><><><><><><><><><>
There is an explosion outside. We all stop working. It doesn't sound like a bomb, there are no planes going over, but it sounds like it's just a few kilometers away. Mullenders runs to the door. We follow her slowly, glancing at one another carefully. There is smoke billowing up from the direction of Birkenau. We do not smile but our hearts grin. We wait, listening for more explosions and praying, though we do not know what we are praying for.
The next morning the news arrives with our tea. One of the cre-

 

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matoriums was blown up by the Sonderkommando.
6
We have finally struck a blow against our captors. We hope, feebly, that it is the beginning of the end, but the SS catch everyone in the Sonderkommando and kill them. Four girls have been arrested from the gunpowder factory; they helped smuggle the powder out. Those of us who continue to live sit silent shiva for our brave copatriots.
Danka has excruciating pain due to a rotten tooth. On Sunday she and ten other girls finally get permission from the camp commandant to go to the camp dentist in Auschwitz. I stand by the fence watching my sister head out the gates of our camp without me to protect her, guarded by the SS who do not care whether she lives or dies. I am nervous being separated from my sister even though I know where she is going; too much can happen in a second and I am uneasy. I try to tell myself that I am being ridiculous and instead of pacing the block go to the window and look out. It is a bright sunny day, but that brings me no peace. My mind is whirling with alarm and fear. There is a plane. I blink hard, staring into the sky. I cannot see it but I can hear it. The air raid sirens begin to whine.
Maria yells upstairs. "
Raus!
Get to the basement."
"My sister is out there!"
"Rena! Come on!" Dina shouts at me. I run across the room toward the stairs. The windows behind us shatter; glass shards shower down on our heads.
"Danka!" I scream. All is chaos.
In the basement we shiver with fear. I wish that Danka were in my arms like the last time. If I was with her at least I could do
6. October 7, 1944, . . . there is a revolt by the Jewish
Sonderkommando
, with explosives smuggled by women prisoners. The
Sonderkommando
labor squad was periodically exterminated, the members of this detail planned the revolt knowing they would be killed anyway, whether or not they destroyed the crematoriums. The plan to destroy all of the crematoriums was thwarted by the Germans but the men in the
Sonderkommando
did successfully wreck Crematorium IV before the uprising was crushed. (Source: Rittner and Roth, 31).

 

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something . . . anything. I feel as if I'm going crazy with worry. I will never forgive myself if my sister dies without me. I squeeze my hands until I cannot make fists anymore. My God has abandoned me, left me cold; still I pray but in the same breath I doubt his power. ''Please don't let my sister die," I plead. "I cannot live without her . . ." I try to mask my futility and fear with bravado, but what will I tell Mama if something happens to Danka?
Finally the sirens stop and we are released from our dark and airless cell. I run up the stairs. Smoke is billowing into huge black thunderheads from the direction of Auschwitz. A girl returns through the gate. She is alone except for her guard.
"What happened?" I grab her collar. "Where's my sister?"
"I don't know. It was mayhem. Some people were killed."
"I have to get my sister!" My head pounds as the blood rushes into it; my vision goes black. Blindly, I run toward the gate to find my sister. I don't care about the guards in the towers. I do not care about anything but finding my sister.
"Grab her!" Dina yells. I feel firm hands gripping my arms, pinning me down. Out of my mind with grief, I try to shake them loose.
"I've got her!" Janka yells.
"Let me go!" I scream at them. They are the enemy. They are against me. I struggle to shake them off. I do not know how many girls hold on to prevent me from going through the gates and getting shot.
"Rena. Listen to me. You can't do anything. You have to wait here," Dina says.
Finally Janka's voice sinks through my outburst. "What if she is fine and you get shot trying to leave without permission? What would Danka do without you?"
"Be still. She'll be back," Dina reassures me. "You'll see. Everything will be fine."
"I can't live without my sister." I am vehement.

 

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"You don't know. Wait before you get yourself killed. Get hold of yourself." I gasp for air trying to listen to their cool, calm logic.
"I'm okay," I finally manage to say. "You can let me go. I won't run off, I promise." They move away slowly. Dina and Janka stay close by me as I pace back and forth in front of our block, remembering Block Five, remembering how in Auschwitz people die for no reason.
There are some figures coming toward our complex. I stare and stare at their forms, trying to make out if one of them is Danka through the wire mesh. I think I see her but I could be making it up, I could be crazy and seeing things. I feel Dina's hand squeeze my shoulder.
"Is it her?" I am afraid that I have gone mad.
"That's her," Dina whispers.
"Thank you, God." But I am not sure if it is God's doing that she is alive. It could be simply luck, or a mistake. Chance is the only order in our universe.
They come through the gate and the SS guard leaves them. I hug and kiss my sister over and over, not allowing her time to explain.
"What's wrong?" she asks. "What did you think?"
"I thought you were among the dead! Promise me you'll never leave my side again." I lean exhausted against the block.
"I promise, Rena." She takes my hand, smiling into my worried eyes.
"Line up!" SS Mullenders orders us. It is the middle of the day. We freeze, then move quickly into line.
"March!" she orders. We march out of the leather factory. It is not time to stop working and we do not head toward the new blocks. "I want you to sing German marching songs." We open our mouths but no sound comes out.
"Sing or you will be punished!" She begins to sing, waving her

 

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whip at us threateningly. We join, our voices shaking in fear. She makes an unmistakable turn in the road. Birkenau looms before us. Our hearts are in our throats but still she forces us to sing.
We march under the hated sign. We do not know immediately what the purpose of our return to Birkenau is, but we fear it worse than death.
"Line up! Face front!" she orders. "Keep your eyes open and face the gallows."
We line up with sinking hearts. We are, all of us, shaking uncontrollably. The whole of the women's camp is lined up facing a platform with four nooses. I stare and stare at the girl-women trapped in the camp, a sea of conquered spirits. Then I close my mind so that I cannot see anything else.
Ella, Roza, Regina, and Ester walk bravely toward the platform. They have been tortured. I know their names from the men who bring us the tea. I know they were arrested for smuggling the gunpowder out of the factory they worked in so that the Sonderkommando could blow up the crematoriums. I know that they never gave one name or contact of the many people who were involved in the sabotage. I wonder if I would have had the courage to do what they did; I marvel at their strength. I weep inside, where no one can see.
"These traitors to the Third Reich are condemned to die by order of the Führer, for espionage. You will watch these filthy traitors hang until they die, so you will be reminded what happens to enemies of the Reich! All caught closing their eyes will be shot for failing to learn this lesson!" Commandant Hössler yells.
7
The girls go up on the chairs. The SS put the nooses over their heads. "Long live Israel!" They begin in unison to recite a Hebrew
7. "January 6 [1945] . . . In the evening four female Jewish prisoners, Ella Gartner, Róza Robota, Regina Safir, and Estera Wajsblum, are hanged in the women's camp of Auschwitz . . . The reason for the sentence is read by First Protective Custody Commander Hössler in Auschwitz; he screams that all traitors will be destroyed in this manner" (Czech, 775).

 

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