Upon the Head of the Goat (25 page)

“I can't read the future,” Iboya said, with less patience. “I can only do what I think is best right now.”

Suddenly we were aware of a rustling sound around us. We had been so absorbed in our discussion that we had not noticed the dawn beginning to break and the gray light piercing the shadows. Throughout the barracks, people were stirring, standing up from their hunched positions and moaning as they stretched their stiff bodies. Mr. Shuster appeared, making his rounds to see if we had all survived the night; he looked haggard, his eyes sunk into deep hollows.

Iboya, Judi, and I were just walking back from our turns at the latrine when we heard the clacking sound of the train approaching the brick factory. I heard it with all of my being—not as a sound, but as a total experience—and was filled with terror. A tremor shook my body. We tried to run but found ourselves planted in the ground, and as the train pulled into view, we saw that it was not the kind of train we had expected. Instead of the usual passenger cars with windows and seats, it consisted of a long line of rust-colored cars like the ones cows were loaded into. The cars of the train were tall, closed up, with only small openings near the roofs.

When we were finally able to pick up our feet, I ran back to Mother feeling my body grow hot as the sweat poured down my face. She was not in our space. All the people had gone up to the front of the shed to watch the train. I found her in a cluster of women, one of whom said, “So it is true … I thought it was just a rumor.” But no one had the time to ask what she meant, because the German soldiers had started to push their way through the crowd at the entrance. As I looked at one of them, my eyes first made contact with his black, shiny gun belt, then slowly traveled up his gray uniform, arriving at the ice-blue stony gaze that recognized nothing.

“We are all God's children,” Babi used to say, meaning both Jews and Christians. Did she mean Germans, too? I wished that I could ask her. They did not look like anybody's children, and they looked not at us, but through us as if we didn't exist.

With a shock, I realized that I had looked forward to going to Germany the way one anticipates a new adventure. Now I did not want to know anything about the coming adventure.

“
Mach schnell!
Make ready to depart. You can take only what you are carrying on your person. Your belongings will be sent by the next train.”

I no longer believed anything they said about us or our things.

“They are not going to separate us!” Mrs. Gerber whispered in relief.

We all moved empty-handed out of the barracks, merging with the crowds from the other sheds as we walked toward the train. The white-arm-banded guards were trying to organize us into lines of five abreast. The five of us—Mother, Iboya, Joli, Sandor, and I—held hands as we walked. Mrs. Gerber, Judi, and Pali were right in front of us, with Carla and her mother completing their line of five. I noticed Judi turning her head around as I was doing, and realized that she was looking for Gari just as I had been trying to spot Henri. With so many people everywhere, it was impossible to distinguish one person. An exodus of families moved through the fields, German and Hungarian officers walking between them. Nothing seemed real.

We slowed down, stopped, started to move again, inching along. Joli began to whimper, and Mother picked her up. Gari appeared out of the crowd. He tapped Judi on the shoulder with his stick. She moved out of her line, stood aside, and took his hand. “Did you read my letter?” she asked with concern.

“Yes,” he answered, “I read it last night. Just a moment, I want to ask Mrs. Davidowitz something.” He turned to Mother.

“Mrs. Davidowitz, I overheard two trainmen talking, and one mentioned the word ‘Auschwitz.' You speak German better than I do. Do you know what it means?”

“No,” she answered. “I'll try and ask Mr. Shuster.” He turned back to Judi and they stood talking to each other until one of the German guards came up and waved Judi back into line. Gari walked off toward the front of the lines. I was not sure that I wanted to see Henri right now. I felt sweaty, light-headed from lack of sleep, and my mind reeled with fears of the future.

The lines in front of us started to disintegrate, and we moved forward until we could see a group of German soldiers stop the line in front of the Gerbers and search the people, reaching in and under their clothing. Then the Gerbers were next. One of the soldiers grabbed Judi and put his hand inside her blouse. Mother put Joli down and clutched Iboya and me to her sides.

“
Nein!
You will not touch my daughters!” she declared in German and repeated in Hungarian, her voice filled with anger and fear.

They laughed at her, and as we came into the first line position, Iboya, Mother, and I were pulled apart by three of the leering Germans. The back of my neck was suddenly in an iron grip, and a coarse, rough hand brushed down my chest and over each of my breasts, bursting the buttons of my blouse. Bending over me so close that I could smell his sausagy breath and see the tobacco stains on his teeth, the soldier reached into my bloomers and felt inside my private parts. I couldn't tell if the stinging in my eyes was more from hurt or shame. He shoved me on. When I looked up toward the train, I saw Henri down the platform, about four meters away, and I quickly turned my head, hoping that he had not seen us being searched. The Gerbers and Carla and her mother had by now boarded the freight car. They stood looking down at us, frightened and silent, Mrs. Gerber with one arm reaching toward Mother. It didn't seem that the car could hold any more people, and we stood still. But the German guard motioned us to climb up. Mr. Shuster and some of the white-arm-banded youths, Gari among them, boosted us up until we stood in the car with our backs tightly squeezed against the others. Mother leaned down and asked Mr. Shuster, “Do you know what ‘Auschwitz' means?” But before he could answer, the German guard yelled, “
Achtung! Rein! Rein!
” and Mother pulled her head back just in time to avoid being struck by the door as it closed with a loud metallic clank.

Afterword

Mrs. Davidowitz, Iboya, Piri, Sandor, and Joli arrived in Auschwitz on May 9, 1944. Iboya and Piri were separated from the rest of the family on that day and never saw them again. In September, they were selected to work in the kitchen of the concentration camp at Christianstadt, where the inmates worked in a munitions factory. This accounted for their eventual survival. With the Russians rapidly approaching, the Germans made them leave there in January 1945 and walk to Bergen-Belsen, a journey that lasted until the beginning of March. On April 15, 1945, Field Marshal Montgomery's First Army liberated the camp. In June, Iboya and Piri were taken by the Swedish Red Cross to Sweden, where they began to rebuild their lives. They immigrated to the United States in 1948. Aranka Siegal, the Piri of the story, now lives in New York.

Books by
ARANKA SIEGAL

 

Upon the Head of the Goat

A Childhood in Hungary 1939–1944

 

Grace in the Wilderness

After the Liberation 1945–1948

An Imprint of Macmillan

UPON THE HEAD OF THE GOAT. Copyright © 1981 by Aranka Siegal.

All rights reserved. For information, address Square Fish, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

Square Fish and the Square Fish logo are trademarks of Macmillan and are used by Farrar Straus Giroux under license from Macmillan.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Siegal, Aranka.

Upon the head of the goat : a childhood in Hungary, 1939–1944 / Aranka Siegal.

Summary: Recounts the bewilderment of being a Jewish child in Hungary between 1939 and 1944, and relates the ordeal of survival in the ghetto.

ISBN 978-0-374-48079-0

   1.  Siegal, Aranka—Juvenile literature.   2.   Jews—Ukraine—Beregovo—Biography—Juvenile literature.   3.  Holocaust, Jewish (1939–1945)—Ukraine—Beregovo—Personal narratives—Juvenile literature.   4.  Beregovo (Ukraine)—Biography—Juvenile literature.   5.  Beregovo (Ukraine)—Ethnic relations—Juvenile literature. [1. Siegal, Aranka. 2. Holocaust, Jewish (1939–1945)—Ukraine—Beregovo—Personal narratives.]   I.  Title.

DS135.R95S547    947'.718 [B]    81-12642

Originally published in the United States by Farrar Straus Giroux

First Square Fish Edition: August 2012

Square Fish logo designed by Filomena Tuosto

mackids.com

eISBN 9781466832589

First eBook edition: October 2012