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Authors: Marsha Forchuk Skrypuch
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It was a way of briefly escaping the hunger and the cold and sadness. But every once in a while on a Sunday morning from ten until eleven, the Nazis would let us have a recital, and no matter howbone-weary I felt, I always went to listen. It was astonishing how many wonderful singers were at our camp. Some people made crude musical instruments out of pieces of wood and string and metal. I would sit there and listen with tears running down my face and think of my mother’s truth: that beauty could be found anywhere.
Bare feet and a thin dress is not much to wear in a Bavarian winter, so the warmth of August made me thankful. On the coldest days when we first arrived, I had considered tearing up one of my blankets and making it into warmer clothing, but our warden told us that we would only be issued those two blankets for the whole time we were here, and that could be years. We were not allowed to use them for clothing, and we were to guard them against theft.
As Inge got used to me she no longer made me spend so much time doing the laundry. I got to sew most of the day, and even though the work needed to be done quickly and well, I was grateful for the clean job and thankful that I was proving myself indispensable. And as the days progressed, it wasn’t just bedding and towels that I worked on. Inge brought in her personal items too, so I darned knitted socks, mended flannel nighties and hemmed silken slips. For the officers, I mended woollen greatcoats and fur-lined hats. As the various kinds of fabric slipped through my fingers, I longed to have some of it for me and my friends. Those socks would feel so good on my feet, and how wonderful it would be to have a clean dress to wear.
One sticky September day, I got up my nerve and asked Inge if I could wash my own dress in the laundry.Scrubbing it with a stone and using the bleaching powder had worn it quite thin and I was afraid that it would eventually fall apart. What would I do then?
Her eyes widened in surprise at my request. “If I could let you, I would,” she said. “But how could I let the lice and dirt from your clothing mix in with the laundry for Germans?”
“But the soap here would wash it all away,” I said. “Who would know the difference?”
She shook her head slowly. “If Officer Schmidt saw you in an outfit that was suspiciously clean, he would immediately know what I had allowed. I cannot risk it.”
Chapter Nine
The Hospital
One fateful afternoon in October, as I sat in the laundry with sewing on my lap, I heard a whizz-boom-crash that was so close, the ground rocked back and forth. Had a bomb hit the work camp? Inge turned off her giant steam press and ran outside. I followed her as she trotted between the buildings until she got to the open area. A few policemen had already gathered. Juli was there as well, standing rigid in her white smock, her eyes searching in the direction of town.
She pointed. “That’s where it hit.”
I shaded my eyes with one hand and squinted so I could see farther — curls of smoke rising a mile or so beyond our barbed-wire enclosure.
Officer Schmidt stepped out of the administrative building and walked to where we stood. “It’s the metalworks factory,” he said to the policemen. “I was just notified.”
Luka and Zenia worked at the metalworks factory! My heart pounded in fear for them.
Officer Schmidt turned to Inge. “Other buildings in town have been hit as well, so they’re scrambling to provide first aid. Everyone who can be spared needs to get to the entrance. They’ll be bringing the injured labourers back to the camp for treatment and many will need to be carried to the hospital.”
Inge nodded. “I’ll round up the kitchen workers and stretchers.” She turned to me and said, “Lida, you’re too small to carry any of the injured. Go to the hospital now with that worker —” she pointed at Juli “ — and help her make up the extra beds.” Then she dashed off to the
Bare feet and a thin dress is not much to wear in a Bavarian winter, so the warmth of August made me thankful. On the coldest days when we first arrived, I had considered tearing up one of my blankets and making it into warmer clothing, but our warden told us that we would only be issued those two blankets for the whole time we were here, and that could be years. We were not allowed to use them for clothing, and we were to guard them against theft.
As Inge got used to me she no longer made me spend so much time doing the laundry. I got to sew most of the day, and even though the work needed to be done quickly and well, I was grateful for the clean job and thankful that I was proving myself indispensable. And as the days progressed, it wasn’t just bedding and towels that I worked on. Inge brought in her personal items too, so I darned knitted socks, mended flannel nighties and hemmed silken slips. For the officers, I mended woollen greatcoats and fur-lined hats. As the various kinds of fabric slipped through my fingers, I longed to have some of it for me and my friends. Those socks would feel so good on my feet, and how wonderful it would be to have a clean dress to wear.
One sticky September day, I got up my nerve and asked Inge if I could wash my own dress in the laundry.Scrubbing it with a stone and using the bleaching powder had worn it quite thin and I was afraid that it would eventually fall apart. What would I do then?
Her eyes widened in surprise at my request. “If I could let you, I would,” she said. “But how could I let the lice and dirt from your clothing mix in with the laundry for Germans?”
“But the soap here would wash it all away,” I said. “Who would know the difference?”
She shook her head slowly. “If Officer Schmidt saw you in an outfit that was suspiciously clean, he would immediately know what I had allowed. I cannot risk it.”
Chapter Nine
The Hospital
One fateful afternoon in October, as I sat in the laundry with sewing on my lap, I heard a whizz-boom-crash that was so close, the ground rocked back and forth. Had a bomb hit the work camp? Inge turned off her giant steam press and ran outside. I followed her as she trotted between the buildings until she got to the open area. A few policemen had already gathered. Juli was there as well, standing rigid in her white smock, her eyes searching in the direction of town.
She pointed. “That’s where it hit.”
I shaded my eyes with one hand and squinted so I could see farther — curls of smoke rising a mile or so beyond our barbed-wire enclosure.
Officer Schmidt stepped out of the administrative building and walked to where we stood. “It’s the metalworks factory,” he said to the policemen. “I was just notified.”
Luka and Zenia worked at the metalworks factory! My heart pounded in fear for them.
Officer Schmidt turned to Inge. “Other buildings in town have been hit as well, so they’re scrambling to provide first aid. Everyone who can be spared needs to get to the entrance. They’ll be bringing the injured labourers back to the camp for treatment and many will need to be carried to the hospital.”
Inge nodded. “I’ll round up the kitchen workers and stretchers.” She turned to me and said, “Lida, you’re too small to carry any of the injured. Go to the hospital now with that worker —” she pointed at Juli “ — and help her make up the extra beds.” Then she dashed off to the
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