The Underground Reporters (14 page)

In early February 1942, all the Jewish families in Budejovice received the news they were dreading most. They were to be transported away from their homes. Their destination was a place called Theresienstadt.

Covers from several editions of
Klepy
.

CHAPTER
21
G
ETTING
R
EADY TO
L
EAVE
F
EBRUARY
1942

Terezin is a small town about sixty kilometers (forty miles) northwest of Prague, the capital city of Czechoslovakia. In 1780, Emperor Joseph II built a fortress there that he named after his mother, Maria Theresa. The fortress was built to protect the town from invaders. But in 1939 German troops occupied this part of Czechoslovakia, and in 1941 Terezin became Theresienstadt, a concentration camp.

When John and his family first learned that they were being sent to Theresienstadt, they hoped that living conditions there would be decent, and that they would soon be able to return home. “The Allied forces are getting the upper hand, and the Germans are starting to lose. In three months, the war will be over,” said John’s father optimistically. “Besides,” he added, “Theresienstadt is not that far away, and at least it is here in our own country.” Somehow, that was a reassuring notion. As long as they were not leaving their homeland, things could not be all that bad.

When the Nazis first established Theresienstadt as a concentration camp, they had several plans. The camp was meant to hold prominent Jews of Czechoslovakia, as well as some from Germany and other western European countries. For many prisoners, Theresienstadt would be a temporary location. From there, they would be sent to concentration camps in the east.

Theresienstadt was disguised as a “model” Jewish community. This meant that people were fooled into believing that Jews would be treated well there, that they would be given housing, adequate food, and proper medical care. Supposedly they would be kept there for their own protection, and they would be given work. These lies were meant to convince people that the Nazis were treating Jews decently. In reality, the conditions in Theresienstadt were terrible, and the ultimate Nazi plan was for all the prisoners to be sent on to death camps in the east.

Of course, the Jewish families of Budejovice were not aware of this plan. They knew people were being deported to the east. They had heard rumors of horrible living conditions and death camps. But they believed that Theresienstadt was the exception. They hoped and prayed that they were going to a place that would keep them safe until the war was over.

John tried to think of the move to Theresienstadt as a new adventure. Things were so boring in Budejovice. Without the swimming hole and
Klepy,
there was nothing to do and nowhere to gather with friends.

“Will I see Beda in Theresienstadt?” he asked his mother.

“Probably,” she replied. “All the Jewish families are going.”

Not far away, Beda and his family were also preparing for the move to
Theresienstadt. Frances wrote a letter to her cousin Otto, who still lived in Brno.

Yesterday we received our transportation numbers. Mine is 391. Beda’s is 392, Mother’s 393, Reina’s 394, and Father’s 395. Uncle Moritz is 361 and Aunt Olga 362. On Tuesday, we will go to the Kohn frame factory. We are all packing now. I am baking some cookies. Do not grieve. I don’t care. We hope it is all for just a short time. And then we will all meet again.…

The most difficult part of the move was trying to figure out what to take. Each person was allowed only fifty kilograms (110 pounds) of luggage, which was not very much. Should they take summer or winter clothing? What about books, favorite toys, photo albums or food? “What will happen to all our things that are left behind?” worried John’s mother.

Despite the dangers, Zdenek Svec had remained friendly with John through all this time. Now Zdenek’s family reached out to help. John’s mother gave her fur coat, some artwork, and several expensive rugs to the Svec family, for safekeeping.

“We will hide your things for you,” promised Zdenek’s mother. “They will be here waiting for you when you return. I hope it’s not long. God bless and keep you.”

CHAPTER
22
H
IDING
K
LEPY

Ruda Stadler was also wondering about what to take to Theresienstadt. He stared at the box of newspapers: twenty-two editions of
Klepy,
along with twenty-two sign-off sheets. He thumbed through the box of papers and picked up the very first edition, three simple pages of chitchat. He marveled at how the magazine had grown and developed in two years: from three pages to as many as thirty pages; from childish gossip to mature articles and drawings, jokes and poems. His editorials were there, along with the articles written by so many Jewish children of Budejovice. They had been underground reporters, and he had been their leader.

“Do you believe we really did this?” he asked his sister, Irena, when she entered his room. “Every day for the past two years, we’ve been told that we can’t do this or that, we can’t go here and there. And yet we managed to create something so special.”

“You’re the one who did it,” Irena replied proudly.

“No,” insisted Ruda, “everyone contributed.
Klepy
belongs to all of us.” He picked up the box of newspapers. It was heavy.

“What are we going to do with these while we’re away?” he asked, remembering his pledge to keep the newspapers safe.

“We could take them with us,” she suggested.

Ruda shook his head. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” The collection of newspapers was heavy. He needed the space in his suitcase for clothing and other supplies.

“Maybe you could divide them up,” she continued. “Give a few issues each to a number of the reporters. I’m not sure keeping the collection together is the best idea.”

Ruda thought about that, but then shook his head again. “No. Whatever happens to us, I believe the collection should stay together. Somehow, that feels like the right thing to do.” He paused. “We’re going to have to find a place to leave these while we’re away.”

“There’s no place to hide them in our apartment. And we can’t leave them here in the open,” she said. “We don’t know what will happen to the things in our home while we’re gone.”

“I wish I could take them with me,” sighed Ruda. “But I know that’s impossible.” He paced through the small apartment. “Where can we leave the newspapers so they will be safe? Who can we trust to hide them?”

Ruda and Irena finally came up with a plan. Their former housekeeper, a Christian woman named Thereza, had remained a friend, even after it became illegal for her to work for a Jewish family. She had left the Stadlers tearfully, promising to assist them in the future. The time had come to ask for help. Leaving the magazines with her was the only solution. Ruda trusted her to keep
Klepy
safe.

He gathered up the newspapers into a big bundle and left his home. He ran quickly through the streets of Budejovice, careful to avoid any soldiers who might be out on patrol, ducking in and around buildings to avoid being seen. Finally he arrived at Thereza’s home, anxious and out of breath.

When she saw Ruda at the door, Thereza pulled him quickly into her home, glancing around nervously to see if anyone had noticed him. It was dangerous for her to be seen with a Jewish boy, and even more dangerous to be hiding this Jewish newspaper. But when Ruda explained what he needed her to do, she did not hesitate. “I’ll hide them, Ruda,” she promised. “No one will find them in my home. And they’ll be here waiting for you when you return.”

A photo/drawing of Ruda as the fearless leader, from
Klepy.

“I’m so grateful,” Ruda whispered.

She shook her head. “It’s the least I can do for a friendship that has lasted so many years.”

“I’ll come back for them,” Ruda promised, as he handed over the bundle of newspapers – two years’ worth of work, imagination, and resourcefulness. He felt as though he was handing over his past, his life. As much as he wanted to believe that he would come back home, he was deeply uncertain about his future. Even as he vowed to return, his voice was shaky, and he felt sad and empty as he walked away.

Top: Drawings from
Klepy.
Bottom: In this edition, an article about Chanukah includes the following passage: “Be proud of your people, so small yet so big, beautiful, and praiseworthy. Chanukah urges us to do good, noble deeds, and have strong character. The Chanukah candles shine back to the great past. Let them shine forth, so that while bringing back a memory, they also bring forth hope.”

CHAPTER
23
L
EAVING
H
OME
A
PRIL
1942

“Wake up!” John’s mother called from the kitchen. “It’s late, and we have to leave.”

John rolled over, stretched, and sat up in bed. His eyes moved around the room, finally coming to rest on the suitcase by his bedroom door. It was Tuesday, April 14, 1942 – the day he and his family, along with all the other Jewish families of Budejovice, were being forced to leave their homes and go to Theresienstadt.

No one spoke much at breakfast. John’s father looked sad and withdrawn, as if he had no more answers. John’s mother moved around the kitchen, packing up rolls and cheese and whatever bits of food were left in the house. As long as she kept busy, she would not have to think too much about what lay ahead. They all finished breakfast, and then John went back to his bedroom to complete his packing. His soccer ball rested in a corner of the room, along with his table tennis paddle. How he longed to take these toys with him! But these and other prized possessions would have to be left behind.

Where will I sleep,
he wondered, as he made his bed for the last time.
What will I do all day long? Will I be with my parents? Will I be near my friends? What will I eat? What if I get sick? Will my mother be there to look after me?
So many questions swirled inside his head. He worried about what would happen to all the things left behind in his room. He wondered when he would come home. He worried about what new rules and regulations would face him in Theresienstadt. And for every worry, there was simply no answer.

He finished dressing, and placed one last sweater into his suitcase. He took a deep breath and glanced around his room one last time. Then, along with his parents and his brother, he walked out of his home.

As they walked through the quiet streets of Budejovice, John glanced up at the homes in his neighborhood. Most of the blinds were drawn, as if the Christian families did not want to see what was happening to their Jewish neighbors. John wondered how many of these families were happy to see the Jews leaving, and how many were distressed and fearful themselves, not knowing what they could do to help.