trolley stopped and terrified passengers surrounded the nanny and the injured boy on the pavement. Somebody made his way over. “I’m a doctor. Let me through,” he called. He was a young man, simply dressed. Gertruda whispered a prayer as he examined Michael. The doctor quickly took off his own shirt, tore it into strips, and used them as bandages to apply pressure. Then he picked Michael up and ran a few streets to the nearby hospital, with Gertruda hurrying along behind him. He took the child into the emergency room, called for doctors, and rushed to the operating room with them. The operation took a long time, and Gertruda kissed the doctor’s hand when he told her that Michael’s condition had improved and he would certainly recover soon and return home.
“Are you his mother?” he asked.
“No, I’m the nanny.”
“Go home and tell his parents,” he said. “I’ll stay with the boy until they come.”
In fear and trembling, Gertruda walked to the Stolowitzky house and told them what had happened. Lydia was shocked, but Gertruda’s fears were groundless: Lydia didn’t say a word about Gertruda’s responsibility and didn’t throw her out. She only asked her to come with her immediately to the hospital. When they got there, they found Michael sedated and the young doctor standing next to him. Gertruda told Lydia of his devoted care.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” said Michael’s mother.
“There’s no need to thank me. I only did what I had to,” he said, and left before she could say another word.
Lydia and Gertruda sat by Michael’s bed all night. The next morning, when the child opened his eyes and smiled wanly, the young doctor returned. He patted Michael and promised he would soon get out of the hospital.
“What’s your name?” asked Lydia.
“Joseph Berman.”
“You must be Jewish,” she said. “So are we.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“God sent you to us. You saved my son. Thank you.”
When Michael was released from the hospital two days later, Gertruda put him to bed. Emil found out Dr. Berman’s address and Lydia drove with him to the doctor’s house. They came to a lovely apartment house downtown and climbed up to the third floor. A brass plate fixed to the door said: DR. JOSEPH BERMAN, SPECIALIST IN LUNG DISEASES .
The doctor’s wife opened the door to them. Sounds of children playing came from the apartment and she looked inquisitively at the refined woman and her uniformed chauffeur.
“Is the doctor at home?” asked Lydia.
“Yes. He’s with a patient now. Come in, please.”
They sat down in the corridor across from the doctor’s treatment room. An old man came out soon after, followed by the young doctor, who was amazed to see the visitors. Lydia stood up and handed him an envelope.
“That’s for you,” she said.
He opened it and found a large sum of money.
The doctor shook his head.
“I didn’t treat your son for money,” he said quietly.
She felt embarrassed.
“But that’s your work … you’re entitled to payment.”
He gave the envelope back to her.
“That wasn’t part of my work,” he said. “I was glad I could help.”
It was hard for Lydia to understand why he refused her payment. Never had anyone refused money from her.
“Nevertheless I want to reward you for what you did,” she insisted.
He smiled. “Your thanks are enough, madame.”
She quickly put the envelope on the nearby cabinet and hurried out the door.
3.
Karl Rink entered SS headquarters with mixed feelings. He knew that Unit Commander Schreider wouldn’t bother to summon him if he didn’t have a good reason. Karl straightened his black uniform, tightened his swastika armband, and tried to guess what his commander might say to him.
The building was humming with uniformed men running around in the corridors and congregating in groups. He knew most of them and exchanged greetings.
In the anteroom of the unit commander’s office, Schreider’s third
“Are you his mother?” he asked.
“No, I’m the nanny.”
“Go home and tell his parents,” he said. “I’ll stay with the boy until they come.”
In fear and trembling, Gertruda walked to the Stolowitzky house and told them what had happened. Lydia was shocked, but Gertruda’s fears were groundless: Lydia didn’t say a word about Gertruda’s responsibility and didn’t throw her out. She only asked her to come with her immediately to the hospital. When they got there, they found Michael sedated and the young doctor standing next to him. Gertruda told Lydia of his devoted care.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” said Michael’s mother.
“There’s no need to thank me. I only did what I had to,” he said, and left before she could say another word.
Lydia and Gertruda sat by Michael’s bed all night. The next morning, when the child opened his eyes and smiled wanly, the young doctor returned. He patted Michael and promised he would soon get out of the hospital.
“What’s your name?” asked Lydia.
“Joseph Berman.”
“You must be Jewish,” she said. “So are we.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“God sent you to us. You saved my son. Thank you.”
When Michael was released from the hospital two days later, Gertruda put him to bed. Emil found out Dr. Berman’s address and Lydia drove with him to the doctor’s house. They came to a lovely apartment house downtown and climbed up to the third floor. A brass plate fixed to the door said: DR. JOSEPH BERMAN, SPECIALIST IN LUNG DISEASES .
The doctor’s wife opened the door to them. Sounds of children playing came from the apartment and she looked inquisitively at the refined woman and her uniformed chauffeur.
“Is the doctor at home?” asked Lydia.
“Yes. He’s with a patient now. Come in, please.”
They sat down in the corridor across from the doctor’s treatment room. An old man came out soon after, followed by the young doctor, who was amazed to see the visitors. Lydia stood up and handed him an envelope.
“That’s for you,” she said.
He opened it and found a large sum of money.
The doctor shook his head.
“I didn’t treat your son for money,” he said quietly.
She felt embarrassed.
“But that’s your work … you’re entitled to payment.”
He gave the envelope back to her.
“That wasn’t part of my work,” he said. “I was glad I could help.”
It was hard for Lydia to understand why he refused her payment. Never had anyone refused money from her.
“Nevertheless I want to reward you for what you did,” she insisted.
He smiled. “Your thanks are enough, madame.”
She quickly put the envelope on the nearby cabinet and hurried out the door.
3.
Karl Rink entered SS headquarters with mixed feelings. He knew that Unit Commander Schreider wouldn’t bother to summon him if he didn’t have a good reason. Karl straightened his black uniform, tightened his swastika armband, and tried to guess what his commander might say to him.
The building was humming with uniformed men running around in the corridors and congregating in groups. He knew most of them and exchanged greetings.
In the anteroom of the unit commander’s office, Schreider’s third
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