Jacob. I can take it. How did you survive? What happened there?” Rudy questioned, and Jacob slipped back into that time and place.
“Bad things happened almost immediately. When they opened the car door, it was very cold and wet. It had been raining and now a light, persistent drizzle fell. Most surely it was heaven weeping. We could see that the women and men were being divided; women going one way, men going another. My family panicked. My father quickly told us that if we were separated, we should find our way back to the Reinholms’ after the war. They would take care of us until we could all get there. Father, mother, and I agreed. My sister, with the terror of a caged animal and a wildness in her eyes, said to me in a voice that was too calm, too determined, ‘I can’t do this, Jacob. I can’t bear anymore. I’m afraid, Jacob! I am too afraid.’ Then she added, ‘Remember I love you and explain to mommy and father.’ As I held her hand, I tried to assure her that she just needed to do as she was told; be strong and we would all be together again someday, and what had happened would be in the past. She just looked at me blankly as we were pushed along with the other people. Soon our hands were separated by the throng of others being pushed along. I kept yelling not to give up. My father and I managed to push my mother through those ahead of us to ensure she stayed with Blanca. My father and I were veered off into another direction. We waved and yelled I love you along with the other husbands and fathers being separated from their families. My mother’s only thought was to stay close to Blanca, and she did not look back.
“We did not see them again, and little did I know that my sister would die within hours. We heard later that after we were separated, the fit women were taken to an area where they were stripped of their belongings, including their clothes and their shoes. They were then led to an area where their heads were shaved. It would be humiliating for anyone, but my sister… well, she was in a fragile state of mind. They were issued gray-colored dresses and wood shoes, and then marched to their barracks. On the way, they were forced to walk by a huge pit. Inside there were dead, naked bodies, along with the barely living bodies of the too old and infirmed who were of no good to the work camp. They were left to die along with the dead in the freezing cold. Through the camp grapevine, my father and I found out that my sister, upon seeing the bodies in the pit, began screaming hysterically. My mother tried to quiet her, but my sister had lost her mind. An SS soldier came up to them, threatening them, ordering my sister to stop. My mother pleaded with her, but Blanca was inconsolable and kept screaming. The soldier dragged her out of line, pushed her in the pit, and shot her. Her screaming stopped, and she was gone from this world—just like that.
“Then without so much as an afterthought, as if he had just kicked some trash out of his path, the soldier ordered the others to move on. The surrounding women grabbed my screaming and crying mother, quieting her and telling her to move on or she would be joining her daughter. I’m sure the only reason my mother did not jump in after Blanca was the thought of my father and me.
“I can only imagine my mother’s heartbreak; I saw the look of grief seize my father’s face when we were told the story, saw the pain in his eyes. I think he aged ten years in that moment. I know my heart broke; my beloved sister, my twin—a part of me was dead. I think we were both numb, almost confused by what we were hearing, that we were not able to even cry. Maybe it had been a mistake, maybe it was another young girl named Blanca. But we knew better, knew the tenuous, delicate state my sister had been in. The men around us tried to console us and offered up prayers for the dead. I don’t know what I would have done had I been there when it happened; probably would
“Bad things happened almost immediately. When they opened the car door, it was very cold and wet. It had been raining and now a light, persistent drizzle fell. Most surely it was heaven weeping. We could see that the women and men were being divided; women going one way, men going another. My family panicked. My father quickly told us that if we were separated, we should find our way back to the Reinholms’ after the war. They would take care of us until we could all get there. Father, mother, and I agreed. My sister, with the terror of a caged animal and a wildness in her eyes, said to me in a voice that was too calm, too determined, ‘I can’t do this, Jacob. I can’t bear anymore. I’m afraid, Jacob! I am too afraid.’ Then she added, ‘Remember I love you and explain to mommy and father.’ As I held her hand, I tried to assure her that she just needed to do as she was told; be strong and we would all be together again someday, and what had happened would be in the past. She just looked at me blankly as we were pushed along with the other people. Soon our hands were separated by the throng of others being pushed along. I kept yelling not to give up. My father and I managed to push my mother through those ahead of us to ensure she stayed with Blanca. My father and I were veered off into another direction. We waved and yelled I love you along with the other husbands and fathers being separated from their families. My mother’s only thought was to stay close to Blanca, and she did not look back.
“We did not see them again, and little did I know that my sister would die within hours. We heard later that after we were separated, the fit women were taken to an area where they were stripped of their belongings, including their clothes and their shoes. They were then led to an area where their heads were shaved. It would be humiliating for anyone, but my sister… well, she was in a fragile state of mind. They were issued gray-colored dresses and wood shoes, and then marched to their barracks. On the way, they were forced to walk by a huge pit. Inside there were dead, naked bodies, along with the barely living bodies of the too old and infirmed who were of no good to the work camp. They were left to die along with the dead in the freezing cold. Through the camp grapevine, my father and I found out that my sister, upon seeing the bodies in the pit, began screaming hysterically. My mother tried to quiet her, but my sister had lost her mind. An SS soldier came up to them, threatening them, ordering my sister to stop. My mother pleaded with her, but Blanca was inconsolable and kept screaming. The soldier dragged her out of line, pushed her in the pit, and shot her. Her screaming stopped, and she was gone from this world—just like that.
“Then without so much as an afterthought, as if he had just kicked some trash out of his path, the soldier ordered the others to move on. The surrounding women grabbed my screaming and crying mother, quieting her and telling her to move on or she would be joining her daughter. I’m sure the only reason my mother did not jump in after Blanca was the thought of my father and me.
“I can only imagine my mother’s heartbreak; I saw the look of grief seize my father’s face when we were told the story, saw the pain in his eyes. I think he aged ten years in that moment. I know my heart broke; my beloved sister, my twin—a part of me was dead. I think we were both numb, almost confused by what we were hearing, that we were not able to even cry. Maybe it had been a mistake, maybe it was another young girl named Blanca. But we knew better, knew the tenuous, delicate state my sister had been in. The men around us tried to console us and offered up prayers for the dead. I don’t know what I would have done had I been there when it happened; probably would
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