“No way. You’ll get hurt.”
“I need Rachel.”
“Your sister is almost here.”
The crowd around them began moving forward and Mindel panicked. She couldn’t lose Rachel again when she’d just found her.
“Pick me up!” she demanded. From up there she had a much better view and when her sister was only a few steps away, Mindel jumped and launched herself at her. Somehow, she managed to grab hold of Rachel’s arm and held on tight, even as the crowd began to move faster, engulfing them.
“I found you, my sweet little darling.” Rachel swooped her up in her arms, and kissed her cheek. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I missed you so much,” Mindel said, before exhaustion and the strain of living in the camps overwhelmed her little body and she closed her eyes.
30
Rachel pressed her sister tight against her chest, as the emotions welled up, shaking her emaciated body. The poor mite in her arms looked so ghastly, crouched over her shoulder light as a feather. Her heartbeat was weak and irregular and she was burning up with a fever, but there was nothing Rachel could do for her, except to hold her.
When the train came to a full stop, she noticed some passenger carriages among the usual cattle cars. A novelty, since she’d been forced to travel like an animal ever since the Nazis had captured her. As expected, the mass rushed toward the passenger carriages and scuffles broke out as everyone tried to get into the more comfortable compartments.
Rachel was too weak and handicapped by having Mindel on her shoulder to participate in the rush and resigned herself to travelling once more in the dreaded wagons. Much to her surprise, though, the SS forced the mass back and called for the infirm and women with small children to come forward.
It took her a moment to realize that she belonged to that group. With Mindel sleeping in her arms, she approached the train and was indeed fortunate enough to get into one of the compartments. As overcrowded and decrepit as they were, it was a far cry from having to travel in the cattle cars.
Before the train departed, the SS distributed bread, jam and cheese along with some water. Rachel settled in her seat, holding Mindel in her arms, feeding her sips of water and morsels of bread. At intervals, she wiped the sweat from her sister’s forehead, fanning air over her burning body, and holding her close when the fever turned into violent shivers, racking her little frame.
For hours Mindel would go in and out of consciousness, talking to Rachel each time as if it were the first time she’d seen her. That worried Rachel, but not as much as the way her fever kept spiking. Mindel was so thin and her haunted eyes seemed to belong to an ancient woman instead of a girl of five.
Rachel was no doctor, but anyone could see that Mindel suffered from the feared typhus, a disease that had wiped out close to a third of the population living at the Bergen-Belsen camp. Not that it had made a difference in the overcrowding, because the Nazis kept dumping trainload after trainload of transferees from other camps into Bergen-Belsen, until this morning, when they’d started herding them out.
Whoever was the genius behind that erratic plan, Rachel hoped he’d rot in eternal purgatory for what he was doing to them.
The train moved in spurts and breaks, often standing for hours during an air attack, before it moved again. Mindel hadn’t woken since the night had settled, and the only indication she was still alive was her erratic heartbeat. Rachel grew more desperate with every passing minute, fearing her little sister would die right there in her arms.
When the train stopped again, she heard droning noises and gunfire, and Rachel wasn’t the only one holding her breath. But she didn’t have to wonder for long, because through the window she saw low-flying Allied aircraft.
Luckily, they seemed to be pursuing more important targets than a train full of miserable Jews and flew past them. The journey continued. In the morning she woke with a start when the train stopped once again.
For hours nothing happened. The first courageous women ventured out and returned with the news that the driver had abandoned the train, leaving it and all of its passengers standing on the open track. Rachel argued with herself whether it was better to stay inside and wait for things to come or to venture out, carrying her sick sister in her arms.
Her decision process was cut short by shouting and machine-gun fire. Staying inside definitely had become the better option. Peeking out of the window, she spotted tanks approaching – tanks without the Iron Cross.
Even before Rachel had finished the thought, another woman screamed, “The Americans! The Americans! We’re free!”
Not much later, Rachel stared into the eyes of a fresh-faced soldier in an American uniform.
“Ihr seid frei.” His German was heavily accented when he told them they were free. Rachel couldn’t believe her ears at first, but evidence suggested that he was telling the truth and she gave him her brightest smile.
“Hello. I’m Rachel Epstein, a Jew from Kleindorf in Bavaria.”
The women stumbled from the train and when it was Rachel’s turn, one of the soldiers peeled Mindel off her shoulder.
“No, she’s my sister!” Rachel screamed, grabbing Mindel tight.
The soldier looked slightly confused and explained something she didn’t understand until finally someone translated to her, “He says he just wants to help. You’ll get her right back.”
Rachel nodded, not having expected so much kindness.
The soldier looked with unabated horror at the hollow-cheeked child in his arms and when Rachel had joined him on the grass next to the track, he said, “Krank. Arzt.”
Rachel nodded, “Yes, please, she needs a doctor.” He probably hadn’t understood, but since
