The Heart Of A Gypsy (25 page)

Nadya’s heart pounded and a lump grew in her throat. Standing her ground now, she knew that if she tried to get back to camp they would follow her, and then she would endanger the entire group. She glared with defiance into their eyes. She would not let them know how afraid she was. Hanzi looked down at Lil, and once again he fell back onto the dog and began to howl. A slender, lofty officer with perfectly trimmed graying hair smiled at her as took a shiny black pistol from his pocket, and with one shot to the head, he killed Hanzi. Unnerved, Nadya stood staring in disbelief. Her hand went to her mouth; she covered it to prevent herself from screaming.  But even though her voice was silent, her heart cried out for Christian as she stood in peril, surrounded by the SS.

‘Well, that certainly rids us of that distracting noise, doesn’t it?” The Officer smiled as he put his pistol away.

Nadya wanted to cry. The tears threatened to come, but she fought them. She would not let these animals see how they had hurt her. “Hanzi,” she whispered beneath her breath. Before she could say another word, the man with the gray hair nodded to two younger SS men, who grabbed each of her arms and dragged her into their waiting black automobile. Throwing her thoughtlessly, like an old coat, into the back, they locked the doors and began to drive. Just as the Nazis were taking Nadya away, Lydia came upon the scene. She stood frozen, not knowing what to do as she witnessed Nadya being forced into the car by the Nazis. From where she stood, she could not tell who or what was on the ground, but she did not dare venture out of the woods to find out. Lydia ran back to camp and alerted several of the men, who with arms and ammunition, came back to the scene to discover the bodies of the child and his dog. Dread of what the future might bring came over the men. They had been left behind to guard the women, and Nadya was to be their most important charge. They knew that Christian would be livid when he discovered his wife had been taken by the SS.

C
hapter
58

Terrified, Nadya sat in the back of an oversized black automobile. For months she had prayed that she would never see the camps, and now she knew that she was on her way to one, or to a prison like one where they had been torturing Christian when she first went  to him. Perhaps, she thought, she might see her parents again at the camp, and for a moment she allowed the thought to comfort her. Then she was brought back to reality by the harsh guttural German voices of the men. Two of them sat in the back, looking at her with lust, and she worried what else they might have planned for her. She had never ridden in a car before, and the motion made her sick, afraid she might vomit. Feeling dizzy, she held her head and tried not to look out the window as the world flashed past her too quickly. First Ion, and then Christian, had protected and sheltered her, and so until now she had only heard of the SS and their cruelty. She’d never seen it firsthand, never experienced it. In her wildest dreams, she could not imagine any man actually forcing himself on her, but now looking at these two and realizing they had absolute power over her, she shuddered. Christian’s face appeared in her mind, bringing her strength; how she longed for him.  If he survived the job he had just undertaken, he would surely come looking for her. Then, although she tried to block them, her thoughts turned to Hanzi; that precious, loving little boy and his dog were both dead. She swallowed hard, fighting to hold back the tears. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her misery. Nadya considered fighting her captors, but she knew that she was a small and not very strong girl, and against five muscular SS officers she would only be gravely injured and punished severely for her resistance.

By noon that day they arrived at the Nazi Headquarters, a large building with many rooms. Nadya, had never been in such a place before, and as she was pushed along she saw that each of the rooms was occupied with men. Many wore black uniforms with death heads on the breasts and shiny black high boots. Others were clad in gray or street clothes. There were women as well; some sitting in front of typewriters, wearing skirts and blouses, their mouths stained with lipstick. Large red flags with black swastikas loomed from the ceiling, like dark omens above her as Nadya was led in to a very ornate office. Behind the desk, she saw a picture she had seen once before, and she knew it was a painting of Adolph Hitler. The key turned in the door, locking her in, and she realized she was a prisoner. Nadya had no other option, so she waited to see what they planned to do with her as the sweat dripped down her back and into her long black hair.

After several hours, a bald, meaty man, red-faced from the love of alcohol walked in. He surveyed the situation. Nadya studied him, searching for some semblance of humanity.

“So you’re a gypsy; I think they call you
Roma
?”

“Yes.”

“What tribe? You see, I know a lot about your people. I am a very good friend of Dr. Mengele’s. He is the chief doctor at Auschwitz, and he just loves gypsies, so he talks about your people much of the time when I visit. Do you know that he gives all of the gypsy children candy? They call him ‘uncle.’” His face broke into a half-smile as he paced around her. “Why, last time I spoke with him he said that he has a gypsy orchestra that plays violin music just for him. Can you imagine?”

She wanted so badly to believe him, to dismiss all that she knew of the Nazi cruelty from her mind, to believe he might treat her with kindness. “I am of the
Sinti
tribe,” Nadya said.

“I see….well… You’re much too pretty to be sent off to Auschwitz…which means of course that this is your lucky day, Frauline,” the Nazi said as he winked at her.

Something in the way all of these men spoke was the same, and it gave her chills. 

“However, before I send you to your final destination, it would please me greatly for you to meet Dr. Mengele. I know he will have something very special planned for you.”

Was he enjoying her nervousness? What was it about these people that made them so heartless? Never had she met people like them; it was true that some of the gypsies had hot tempers, but they had hearts and they had emotions. It was the intentional cruelty that she found so different and so distressing, the way they toyed with her like she was an insect and they were pulling off her legs one at a time, watching her shiver in fright and anticipation of the next blow.  If only she had her husband’s incredible strength, she could hide her fears and never give them the pleasure of watching her fall apart, but as the clock ticked and the horror increased, she felt herself losing the battle. As she stared down at her hands she saw the gold band Christian had given her. When she was sure the officer would not see, she slipped the ring off her finger and hid it under her tongue so they would not take it away from her. She felt the strangeness of the metal in her mouth, but there was comfort in knowing that even if they killed her, she would still have this small bit Christian with her to help her endure whatever they might have in store.

C
hapter
59

It was the in afternoon following Nadya’s abduction that Ion, Christian and the rest of the men returned to camp. Tired and hungry, each of them went quietly to their respective wagons to rest. Christian dismounted his horse with a single jump and requested one of the younger boys to come and care for the animal. Then he ran to find Nadya. First he looked inside their
vurdun
, but did not see either his wife or the child. Next he checked the common circle where most of the food was prepared; there was still no trace of her. Christian decided that she had probably taken the boy to go and see the old widow, so he made his way to her wagon. When he arrived, he found Kizzy with a red-eyed, tear-stained face, staring blankly out the window above her bed. She had a long black cloth covering her mirror; he eyed the woman with strong concern.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on here?”

“Oh, son, while you were gone something so terrible has happened,” Kizzy said wringing the fabric of her blanket in her gnarled fingers.

Christian wanted to shake her. She spoke so slowly, and he felt as if he might go mad before she explained. “Go on tell me what happened,” he said, forcing himself to be patient.

Kizzy looked at him with dark, foreboding eyes. The deep lines etched into her copper skin seemed to be even more prominent than he remembered.

“While you were gone, the child, Hanzi, ran out to the street. The Nazis saw him and killed him…the puppy too.”

“Nadya? Where is Nadya.” Christian was hollering he could not control himself.

“The Nazis took Nadya away in their big black motorcar. Nobody knows where she is or even if she is still alive. We think maybe they took her to a camp, but we don’t know which one.”

“Do you know who the Nazi’s were? Were they Gestapo or SS? Did anyone see them?”

“It was the Nazis with the black clothes; the ones with the hats with the skulls on them. Lydia saw it happen, but she couldn’t help Nadya; she was too afraid, so she stayed hidden. It happened like this: Nadya had gone out looking for Hanzi. He was chasing the dog, and from what I understand, when the Nazis saw Hanzi, they shot him. Nadya must have seen them kill the boy, and I guess she tried to stop them. I don’t know if that is for sure what happened. I can only guess. But now they have her and she is gone forever.” Burying her face in her hands, Kizzy began to wail.

Christian could not bear to stay in the old woman’s wagon any longer. There was nothing more she could tell him, and her incessant rambling was grating at his nerves. He must find his wife.  Anger and fear filled him as he spoke to Lydia, who only repeated the same story he’d already heard. He wasted no more time; racing to his horse, he took it from the boy who was putting it up for the night, and without a word he mounted the animal and rode to the camp of the Polish Underground. When Ion found out what had happened, he knew where Christian was headed and he followed him. Arriving a few minutes after his brother-in-law, Ion heard the yelling coming from the tent of the leader of the Poles.

“I have no time to wait for you to take action. My wife is in danger. I insist that you find out where she is now. Do you understand me? I will give you whatever you want. I will do whatever you ask.” Christian was shaking the man like a rag doll. “When you asked for my help, I helped you. I demand that you help me now. If you ever want my help again…”

“I will do what I can… Please try to calm down… It will do no good to lose control,” the leader of the Underground sympathized.

“Don’t tell me to calm down. My wife is in the hands of the SS; nothing else matters to me. Find out where they have taken her, and find out now.”

“Go back to your camp. As soon as I have some information I will come to you. I am on my way to find out whatever I can,” the Pole said as Christian released him. Then, shaking out his legs and back from the stiffness of the previous ride, the leader of the Underground remounted his horse, leaving Christian and Ion to wait for answers.

“I am beside myself.” Christian paced as he spoke to Ion.

“Don’t worry, they will find her. This man has connections everywhere. When you were in trouble, we went to them, and they found you. Give him a chance. It will be all right,” Ion said as he silently said a prayer that his words would be true.

C
hapter
60

Once again, Nadya was loaded into the back of an automobile. Now she was wearing steel handcuffs that cut into her tiny wrists. The car was on its way to
the gypsy camp in Auschwitz. 
The motion made her ill, and grew worse when it was combined with the terror and uncertainty she felt. Unable to stop herself, she vomited on the floor of the back seat of the car. Seeing the mess, the SS officer pulled over and slapped her face so hard that her head flew back, and when Nadya regained her balance, her nose and mouth were a pool of blood. Tears filled her eyes, and she wished her husband would somehow
co
me riding out of the darkness to save her. But how would he ever find her? It seemed impossible. She was lost to him forever. Nadya wiped the blood from her face with the back of her hand and hoped that her death would be swift.

The black iron gates that circled the concentration camp were opened to allow the entrance of the vehicle. Above the gates was a sign with words on it, but Nadya could not read them. As they entered she saw the sharp barbed wire that imprisoned the poor souls dying in Auschwitz.  Driving through the barracks, she was shocked at the sickly, emaciated people who walked aimlessly about, looking like the skeleton on the death card of her tarot. They were the tortured prisoners of the Nazi Party, with their shaved heads and the bony faces, wearing gray striped uniforms with arm bands in different colors. With lifeless expressions, they peered with sunken eyes into the car window at her as she rode past. At the side of the building where they parked the vehicle, she saw a pile of dead bodies, and next to it there was another mound of dissected body parts. Looking away quickly, she caught a drift of the horrific odor and felt her stomach clench again. Afraid that she would lose control and suffer another beating, she tried to breathe through her mouth, but she continued to gag. Gray dust fell like a strange unnatural rain from the sky, and at first she had no idea what it was. As the substance dropped onto her hair and arms, she reached up to touch it and realized it was ashes. Shaking with fright and revulsion, she realized that this was the crematorium she had heard about, and these ashes were all that remained of the dead. She shivered as she secretly she said a prayer for those who died. Next Nadya was led in to a large and open area. Having spent her life in the outdoors, she was amazed to see that there was not a single blade of grass in the camp, not a single flower, and nowhere was there to be seen a bird or a butterfly. This is a cursed place, she thought. Then the guard led her down a long corridor, and as she looked at the beds on both sides of the hallway she realized she was in the camp hospital.  Nadya had never seen such suffering.  People lay upon cots, too weak to cry, some with sores that had eaten away parts of their faces, others looking sick and hungry. In one room she saw only twins, and in another only children. Travelers, as they moved through the forests, had come to her gypsy camp and told tales of the Nazi experiments, but Nadya could not even fathom the true monster that ran this house of horrors. Gypsies who had escaped from this place had come to join her group, or pass through on their way to other destinations. They too, spoke of Dr. Mengele.  She knew about the candy and about calling him “uncle,” and the cruelty of his experiments. But seeing it was different than just hearing about it.  As she glanced into the rooms, her heart went out to the patients, and for a moment she forgot the peril she was in and her mind drifted to thoughts of  poor little Hanzi. In her mind’s eye she saw his tiny body flung protectively over his puppy, both of them peaceful in death, murdered by Nazis.