Nobody had bothered them, and her parents had always said Kleindorf was too remote and small to attract a Nazi raid. And even then, they had believed the Kleindorf farmers would stand by their side.
But one day the Mayor, Herr Keller, had arrived on their farm with a truck, shoved her parents inside and declared himself the new owner of the land. The four siblings had escaped, only because they’d been collecting mushrooms and berries in the woods. When they had returned in the evening, the old witch, a ninety-year-old herb-wife, had warned the children to run away and hide.
It hadn’t helped them much, but given them only a short respite, before the despicable Herr Keller and his henchmen had caught them. At least her two brothers had managed to escape. She wondered what had become of them.
Sadness filling her heart. She got up and walked around the compound asking every woman about her sister. Most simply shook their heads, others advised her to forget about the brat, but finally she found a kind soul.
“Sit down for a while, will you?” the woman in a drab gray dress with the yellow star sewn onto it said. “I’m Doris, by the way.”
“Rachel.”
“When did you last see your sister?”
She recounted the story how they’d been separated at arrival.
The woman frowned and then used her forefinger to etch a map of the camp into the dirt. The form looked a bit like a tank with a sharp end on the right and a broader one on the left.
“We are here in the Women’s camp, over there behind the fence lies the SS clothing store and the workshops, and right next to it, with only a small connection to our compound, is the Star camp, where they keep Jews of different nationalities as hostages to exchange for German prisoners of war.”
“Really?” Rachel had no idea. In her little village not much had been said about politics and she’d never even imaged these things could exist.
“Yes, but don’t get your hopes up. Since I came here a year ago, nobody has left this place alive. Here,” she pointed to the right of the Star Camp on her map. “We have the Hungarian camp and the Special camp. These inmates are privileged, don’t have to work and get extra rations, because they have paid for their escape already and are waiting to resume their journey to Palestine.”
Rachel felt so stupid. There were actual people, Germans, going to Palestine? Her parents had only ever spoken with disdain about the ones they called Zionists, claiming they were the root of discord between the Jews.
“Next the Neutrals camp, filled with Jews from nations that are not at war with Germany, like Spain or Argentina. And a small men’s camp. Behind that row there’s another camp that’s not guarded by the SS, but by the Wehrmacht. They keep wounded Soviet soldiers there, and from what I’ve heard, conditions are a lot worse than here.”
“Worse?” Rachel involuntarily gasped and held a hand in front of her mouth.
Doris cackled a laugh at her. “Much worse. But back to your sister. My best guess is she’ll be in the Star camp.”
That much Rachel had already gathered from the woman yesterday. “How can I go there?”
“You can’t.” Doris leaned back, reaching under her dress and then pulling out her hand with a victorious expression. “Got you!”
Rachel didn’t even have to look to know that Doris had just plucked another of those nasty critters from whatever intimate body part, because she’d become so used to doing this herself. Everyone in the camps was lice-infested and she’d been combing her fingers though Mindel’s long hair every night to keep her as lice-free as possible under these unhygienic conditions. Once, in her first camp, they’d all been sprayed with some stinking chemical that stung in her eyes for hours. But the critters had returned the very next day, adding one more misery to her already miserable existence.
Desperation washed over Rachel. Somehow, she needed to find a way to get into the infirmary in the other compound and search for Mindel there.
5
“Watch me and learn,” Laszlo whispered to Mindel, as they were hiding outside the back door of the kitchen barracks.
“What are you going to do?” Mindel whispered back, goosebumps rising on her skin. She was scared someone might see them and Laszlo looked as if he were up to no good, but she wasn’t going to let him see her fear. The other children in the group had argued she was too little to hang out with them, but he’d stuck up for her.
She looked up at him with raw adulation. He seemed so grown-up and was so courageous, he was her champion and she’d do whatever he wanted. For the past days she’d followed him around, always eager to please him and make him proud of her. She’d prove the other children wrong and show them she wasn’t too little.
Laszlo peeked around the corner of the building and then pulled her over until she could see as well. “That bucket is my goal.”
Mindel looked at the woman in the kitchen who was pulling potatoes from a large gunny sack and peeling them into a bucket – the same bucket Laszlo had pointed to.
“Those are potato peels,” she whispered back.
“And they taste really good. I’m going to get us some.”
“But that’s stealing,” Mindel said, appalled at his heinous plan.
“So what?”
She stared at him, her mind wandering back to her parents’ farm. One time, her mother had made a birthday cake for Israel, but everyone had only been allowed a small slice before she’d covered it and put it away for the next day. Mindel and Aron had waited until her mother walked out to milk the cows, snuck into the kitchen pantry and each grabbed a huge slice
