them?’
‘Dobbin can live in the
front room. They’re far too old for him anyway, now. And the dolls’ houses can
go up the loft, if they don’t play with them anymore. I’m not arguing with you,
Jennie. Give me a hand getting Dobbin down the stairs. Then we’ll dismantle the
bunks.’
Jennie stood her ground.
‘You’re over-reacting, Dad. I expect they’ve been bouncing on them.’
Over-reacting… He heaved
Dobbin towards the top of the stairs. ‘We may need your mother as well. He’s
heavy.’
‘Okay, okay… I’ll fetch
her.’
He glanced back into the
bedroom seeing the chaos of the infirmary. Screams echoed in the dark: cries of
terror and pain in a universal language.
He yelled. ‘Bring a light.
Someone, bring a light.’
Five women were trapped
beneath a collapsed bunk, the weight of the four women on top of them crushing
them. He dragged the four women from their bed and wrested the heavy timbers
into the alleyway before the second bunk collapsed onto the bottom one. He
grabbed at a nurse. ‘Clear this bottom bunk, quickly.’
Blood flowed from smashed
skulls and broken bodies. He felt for a pulse. ‘She’s dead.’ He turned to the
next casualty. Her face was a pulped mess. ‘She won’t live… not like this…
Miriam, more light…’ He beckoned and she held the lamp while he worked on the
next casualty. ‘Can you move?’
The woman shook her head.
‘My legs… I can’t feel my legs.’
He rubbed sweat from his
eyes with an angry gesture. ‘God in heaven… Haven’t these poor women suffered
enough? How can you still believe in God?’
Miriam moved the light so he
could see better . ‘Faith is all I have.’
He shook his head. It was
the Jewish faith, their belief in the innate good of mankind that had made them
an easy target for the Nazis. If this was God’s will…
‘Where do you want me to
stand, Walt?’
The dead and dying faded,
leaving behind only rage. ‘Help Jennie this end… I’ll go first.’
Jane pushed. ‘Walt, he’s
very heavy.’
‘We’ll manage.’
Together they bumped Dobbin
down the stairs and dragged him into the front room. ‘Jennie, give me a hand to
take that top bunk down.’
‘Dad, you shouldn’t be doing
that…’ She followed him back up the stairs. ‘I still think you’re being
overcautious.’
‘I’ve seen the injuries bunk
beds can cause when they collapse.’
‘Where… when?’
‘The war…’ He clamped his
lips shut.
‘Why won’t you talk about
it, Dad? It was you who told me not to bottle things up, after Vince died… and
you were right. Talking helps.’
‘I’ve seen more death than
anyone should ever see. I don’t want to see more. Now, leave it be.’
Jennie squeezed his
shoulder, tidied Lucy’s bed and went to the top of the stairs. ‘Charlotte,
Lucy… your beds are ready. Come on…’
He tucked Charlotte in and
kissed both twins. ‘Sleep tight, sweethearts.’
The clatter of cups and
saucers from the kitchen meant Jane was making tea, her cure-all for life’s
ills. He went back to his chair. The television blared but it didn’t hold his
attention. The tragedy of war dragged him back. Callous, inhumane stupidity…
and amongst it acts of selfless heroism and compassion that shone as beacons in
the night when the gassings were at their greatest height, and despair at its
greatest depth. One Greek Jew stood out in his memory: he would always be
grateful to the Greeks. It had been September 1944, the month before the fall
of Warsaw…
Miriam ran into the
infirmary, her voice an excited whisper. ‘A Greek Jew has escaped from a work
kommando. He hit his guards with a shovel.’
Outside, the camp buzzed
with the news. Coming after the massacre of the young Greeks, who’d refused to
work in the Sonderkommando killing Hungarian Jews, it elevated him to the rank
of the ancient gods: Zeus, Apollo…
The camp held its collective
breath. The birch woods beyond the fence hung with gold. Beyond the
‘Dobbin can live in the
front room. They’re far too old for him anyway, now. And the dolls’ houses can
go up the loft, if they don’t play with them anymore. I’m not arguing with you,
Jennie. Give me a hand getting Dobbin down the stairs. Then we’ll dismantle the
bunks.’
Jennie stood her ground.
‘You’re over-reacting, Dad. I expect they’ve been bouncing on them.’
Over-reacting… He heaved
Dobbin towards the top of the stairs. ‘We may need your mother as well. He’s
heavy.’
‘Okay, okay… I’ll fetch
her.’
He glanced back into the
bedroom seeing the chaos of the infirmary. Screams echoed in the dark: cries of
terror and pain in a universal language.
He yelled. ‘Bring a light.
Someone, bring a light.’
Five women were trapped
beneath a collapsed bunk, the weight of the four women on top of them crushing
them. He dragged the four women from their bed and wrested the heavy timbers
into the alleyway before the second bunk collapsed onto the bottom one. He
grabbed at a nurse. ‘Clear this bottom bunk, quickly.’
Blood flowed from smashed
skulls and broken bodies. He felt for a pulse. ‘She’s dead.’ He turned to the
next casualty. Her face was a pulped mess. ‘She won’t live… not like this…
Miriam, more light…’ He beckoned and she held the lamp while he worked on the
next casualty. ‘Can you move?’
The woman shook her head.
‘My legs… I can’t feel my legs.’
He rubbed sweat from his
eyes with an angry gesture. ‘God in heaven… Haven’t these poor women suffered
enough? How can you still believe in God?’
Miriam moved the light so he
could see better . ‘Faith is all I have.’
He shook his head. It was
the Jewish faith, their belief in the innate good of mankind that had made them
an easy target for the Nazis. If this was God’s will…
‘Where do you want me to
stand, Walt?’
The dead and dying faded,
leaving behind only rage. ‘Help Jennie this end… I’ll go first.’
Jane pushed. ‘Walt, he’s
very heavy.’
‘We’ll manage.’
Together they bumped Dobbin
down the stairs and dragged him into the front room. ‘Jennie, give me a hand to
take that top bunk down.’
‘Dad, you shouldn’t be doing
that…’ She followed him back up the stairs. ‘I still think you’re being
overcautious.’
‘I’ve seen the injuries bunk
beds can cause when they collapse.’
‘Where… when?’
‘The war…’ He clamped his
lips shut.
‘Why won’t you talk about
it, Dad? It was you who told me not to bottle things up, after Vince died… and
you were right. Talking helps.’
‘I’ve seen more death than
anyone should ever see. I don’t want to see more. Now, leave it be.’
Jennie squeezed his
shoulder, tidied Lucy’s bed and went to the top of the stairs. ‘Charlotte,
Lucy… your beds are ready. Come on…’
He tucked Charlotte in and
kissed both twins. ‘Sleep tight, sweethearts.’
The clatter of cups and
saucers from the kitchen meant Jane was making tea, her cure-all for life’s
ills. He went back to his chair. The television blared but it didn’t hold his
attention. The tragedy of war dragged him back. Callous, inhumane stupidity…
and amongst it acts of selfless heroism and compassion that shone as beacons in
the night when the gassings were at their greatest height, and despair at its
greatest depth. One Greek Jew stood out in his memory: he would always be
grateful to the Greeks. It had been September 1944, the month before the fall
of Warsaw…
Miriam ran into the
infirmary, her voice an excited whisper. ‘A Greek Jew has escaped from a work
kommando. He hit his guards with a shovel.’
Outside, the camp buzzed
with the news. Coming after the massacre of the young Greeks, who’d refused to
work in the Sonderkommando killing Hungarian Jews, it elevated him to the rank
of the ancient gods: Zeus, Apollo…
The camp held its collective
breath. The birch woods beyond the fence hung with gold. Beyond the
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