Chapter 24
Autumn is bitterly cold. Many don’t survive. Lale and Gita hold on to their glimmer of hope. Gita lets her block-mates know of the rumours about the Russians and encourages them to believe that they can outlive Auschwitz. As 1945 begins, temperatures plummet further. Gita cannot stop morale ebbing away. Warm coats from the Canada cannot keep out the chill and fear of another year captive in the forgotten world of Auschwitz-Birkenau. The transports slow. This has a perverse effect on those prisoners who work for the SS, particularly the Sonderkommando. Having less work to do puts them in danger of execution. As for Lale, he has built up some reserves but his supply of new currency is much diminished. And the locals, including Victor and Yuri, are no longer coming in to work. Construction has halted. Lale has heard promising news that two of the crematoria damaged in the explosions by the resistance fighters are not going to be repaired. For the first time in Lale’s memory, more people are leaving Birkenau than are entering. Gita and her co-workers take turns processing those being shipped out, supposedly to other concentration camps.
Snow is thick on the ground on a late January day when Lale is told that Leon has ‘gone’. He asks Baretski, as they walk together, if he knows where to. Baretski offers no answer, and warns Lale that he too might find himself on a transport out of Birkenau. But Lale can still make his way mostly unobserved, not required to report at rollcall each morning and evening. He hopes this will keep him at the camp, but he doesn’t have the same confidence that Gita will remain. Baretski laughs his insidious laugh. The news of Leon’s probable death taps into reserves of pain Lale did not know he still had.
‘You see your world reflected in a mirror, but I have another mirror,’ Lale says.
Baretski stops. He looks at Lale, and Lale holds his stare.
‘I look into mine,’ says Lale, ‘and I see a world that will bring yours down.’
Baretski smiles. ‘And do you think you will live to see that happen?’
‘Yes, I do.’
Baretski places his hand on his holstered pistol. ‘I could shatter your mirror right now.’
‘You won’t do that.’
‘You’ve been out in the cold too long, Tätowierer. Go and get warm and come to your senses.’ Baretski walks away.
Lale watches him leave. He knows that if they were ever to meet on a dark night on equal terms it would be he who would walk away. Lale would have no qualms about taking this man’s life. He would have the last word.
•
One morning in late January, Gita stumbles through the snow towards Lale, running towards his block, somewhere he’s told her never to come near.
‘There’s something happening,’ she cries.
‘What do you mean?’
‘The SS, they’re acting strange. They seem to be panicking.’
‘Where’s Dana?’ Lale asks with concern.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Find her, go to your block and stay there until I come.’
‘I want to stay with you.’
Lale pulls her off him, holding her at arm’s length.
‘Hurry, Gita, find Dana and go to your block. I’ll come and find you when I can. I need to find out what’s going on. There haven’t been any new arrivals for weeks now. This could be the beginning of the end.’
She turns and moves reluctantly away from Lale.
He reaches the administration building and cautiously enters the office, so familiar to him from years of obtaining supplies and instructions. Inside, it’s chaos. SS are yelling at frightened workers, who cower at their desks as the SS pull books, cards and paperwork from them. An SS worker hurries past Lale, her hands full of papers and entry books. He bumps into her and she spills what she is carrying.
‘I’m sorry. Here, let me help you.’
They both bend down to gather up the papers.
‘Are you all right?’ he says as gently as possible.
‘I think you may be out of a job, Tätowierer.’
‘Why? What’s going on?’
She leans into Lale, whispering now.
‘We’re emptying the camp, starting tomorrow.’
Lale’s heart leaps. ‘What can you tell me? Please.’
‘The Russians, they’re nearly here.’
Lale runs from the building to the women’s camp. The door to Block 29 is shut. No one stands guard outside. Entering, Lale finds the women huddled together at the back. Even Cilka is here. They gather around him, frightened and full of questions.
‘All I can tell you is that the SS appear to be destroying records,’ Lale says. ‘One of them told me the Russians are nearby.’ He withholds the news that the camp is going to be emptying out the next day because he doesn’t want to cause further alarm by admitting that he doesn’t know where to.
‘What do you think the SS are going to do with us?’ Dana asks.
‘I don’t know. Let’s hope they will run off and let the Russians liberate the camp. I’ll try to find out more. I’ll come back and tell you what I learn. Don’t leave the block. There are bound to be some trigger-happy guards out there.’
He takes Dana by both hands. ‘Dana, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but while I have the chance I want to tell you how much I will always be grateful to you for being Gita’s friend. I know you have kept her going many times when she has wanted to give up.’
They embrace. Lale kisses her on the forehead and then hands her over to Gita. He turns to Cilka and Ivana and wraps them both in a bear hug.
To Cilka, he says, ‘You are the bravest person I have ever met. You must not carry any guilt for what has happened here. You are an innocent – remember that.’
In between sobs she replies, ‘I did what I had to do to survive. If I hadn’t, someone else would have suffered at the hands of that pig.’
‘I owe my life to you, Cilka, and I will never forget that.’
He turns to Gita.
‘Don’t say anything,’ she says. ‘Don’t you dare say a word.’
‘Gita …’
‘No. You don’t get to say anything to me other than you’ll see me tomorrow. That’s all I want to hear from you.’
Lale looks at these young women and realises that there is nothing left to say. They were brought to this camp as girls, and now – not one of them yet having reached the age of twenty-one – they are broken, damaged young women. He knows they will never grow to be the women they were meant to be. Their futures have been derailed and there will be no getting back on the same track. The visions they once had of themselves, as daughters, sisters, wives and mothers, workers, travellers, and lovers, will forever be tainted by what they’ve witnessed and endured.