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28
19th April 1943
It was the first day of the Passover.Jan told Mama early that morning that he intended to go into the ghetto and bring Walter home with him.She wasn’t happy about him taking the risk, but she understood.And by now she was accustomed to him putting himself in dangerous situations.
“I trust you to know when to leave,” was all she said.
He’d agreed that he would do his best to keep himself and Walter safe, and get them out of the ghetto if anything happened.There was plenty of conversation buzzing around the deportations and whether any of the Jews who’d received notices would show up at theUmschlagplatzas instructed.According to the Polish Underground and the ZOB, they wouldn’t, but Jan knew you couldn’t tell what people might do when they were afraid.
Still, his entire body vibrated with tension as he snuck over the wall into the ghetto that bright, clear morning.Walter was waiting for him by the remnants of the former soup kitchen where Nacha had attended school.The place was abandoned now, with empty pots and pans strewn about and the building an empty hollow of charred remains.
The two boys embraced quickly, and Walter led Jan to a nearby building.It was seven stories tall, and many of the street-facing windows were broken.Just then, several trucks rumbled through the ghetto gates and stopped.
German soldiers bundled out of the backs of the trucks armed with machine guns and rifles.They set up around the soup kitchen behind makeshift defences.
One man, dressed in the black uniform of the SS, stood tall and straight, pressed a bullhorn to his lips, and began shouting commands.
“I am SSBrigadeführerJürgen Stroop, and I am ordering all Jews who received a summons to report immediately for deportation.Report or you will be shot.This is not an option.Gather your family and one bag and make your way to theUmschlagplatzto be sent east with your fellow Jews.”
He repeated the mantra over while Jan and Walter watched.
“It’s starting,” Walter said.
Jan nodded.“We should get moving.”
Inside, they jogged up several flights of stairs until Walter stopped at one of the apartment doors and gave a discreet knock.The door opened, and they were greeted by a man with a drooping moustache, wearing too-large clothing tied at the waist with a rope.
He didn’t smile, but ushered the two of them inside.“Chag Pesach Sameach.”
“Chag Sameach,” Walter replied.“This is my friend, Janek.”
The man held out his hand, and Jan shook it.“You are welcome, Jan.We have heard a lot about you, and we thank you for what you’ve done for our people, and for Walter.”
Jan caught sight of his own reflection in the broken shards of a mirror that hung on the wall.His hair was mussed and his tie askew.
“Thank you for having me.”
Jan wished now he’d spent more time on grooming before he left that morning.He smoothed his hair the best he could and straightened himself up.He and Walter followed the man along a hallway, then through another door.
They slipped down a hatch beneath a floor rug and crawled through a floor space, emerging from a hole in a wall behind a painting into another small, dark room.
A group of people was there, seated around a long table, and each welcomed them with the traditional greeting.They talked together in hushed tones and with gentle smiles.It was a celebration, but a subdued one with an undercurrent of tension.
Jan recognised several of the men as leaders in the ZOB, but didn’t know their names.The one who’d opened the door for them had smooth black hair parted in the middle of his head.He seemed to be in charge and gave orders for the Passover meal to begin once Jan and Walter were seated.
The men sat around the table.Several women stood behind them, and the children were seated around the edges of the room on the floor.All were dressed in their best clothes with their hair neatly combed.All were thin, with bones protruding along their collars, their legs spindly and their cheeks sunken and hollow, with eyes bulging.
The ritual of the meal followed the same procedure as the previous evening.And this time, Jan felt more comfortable with each of the steps involved.Walter explained in a whisper that the second Seder was an important part of the Passover tradition.When the time came for the Exodus story, Jan listened eagerly to the recitation.
After the Seder was over, the women and children left quickly.The men sat around the table a while longer, smoking and thinking.Jan remained with them, a feeling of agitation beginning in his gut.They would have to get out of there soon.He only hoped Walter would go with him.
He had a bad feeling about what was going on outside the building.If what he’d heard from the resistance fighters was true, the people had no intention of surrendering for deportation.He wasn’t sure what the SS commander would do, but he knew it would be brutal.
The man with the drooping moustache spoke up.“The time has come for us to fight.The women and children have returned to the bunker.We will finish our cigarettes, and then we must gather our weapons and take the fight to the Germans.They won’t be ready for our strike, and for this reason alone we will have a brief advantage.Remember what we discussed.Strike and retreat, strike and retreat.”
“How long will this give us?”asked one of the younger men.
“There’s no way of knowing.Last time, they retreated.This time, they will be better equipped.”
