Righteous Fury: Sequel to The Mistress of Auschwitz (Book 2 of 3) Page 3

  “Where am I?” a woman asked groggily, and Eleonore noticed that it was the same woman they had saved from near the gates.

  “You are under our care,” a nurse spoke sympathetically to her.

  “And my boy?” the woman looked at the nurse with deadened eyes, scarcely able to open them.

  “Uh,” the nurse sat at the foot of her cot as she tried to soften the blow, “your child has perished, ma’am.”

  “I know,” the woman replied without emotion. “Where’s his body?”

  “He’s being laid to rest as we speak,” the nurse replied softly.

  At this, the woman burst into sobs like a dam breaking under the insurmountable weight.

  “I need to see him,” the woman tried to sit up, but she was too weak.

  “Ma’am, you need to rest,” the nurse stood and put a stern, yet caring, hand to stop the woman from moving.

  “I need to see my boy. Why did you help me?” she looked at the nurse full of rage.

  “Some kind people spotted you in your condition and brought you here. They saved your life.”

  “They didn’t save me,” the woman sobbed bitterly. “They condemned me to a life without my son. They should’ve left me.”

  Sitting at the edge of her cot, Eleonore turned away from the woman to allow her some dignity. She wondered if the woman was right, and if she should’ve let her go in peace.

  But Eleonore distracted herself from such thoughts by staring out the front of the tent as she watched Hanns clearing the camp. He was relentless in his effort to restore some dignity to his people. Anyone could see the emotions building within him, but they remained barricaded behind the fortified wall of duty.

  Eleonore watched as Hanns grabbed the arms of a deceased prisoner while another soldier assisted him by grabbing the legs. With a heave, the two lifted and carried the body to the hole which had been dug by the bulldozer. Swinging the body, they tossed it into the mass grave while other soldiers followed suit and threw other bodies in as well.

  It was disturbing to watch, and Eleonore didn’t know how to process what she was witnessing. The Nazis had been so calculated and hateful in their murder, revoking all emotion or elements of humanity. The Allies, too, were required to suppress their emotions, otherwise they would be reduced to weeping from morning till night. Yet, in opposition to the Nazis, the Allies concealment of rage and hurt was noble. They would press on in the hopes of protecting others and saving whoever had been left.

  Still, Eleonore sensed that there was an urgency to complete the task. No one wanted to be in this environment for longer than necessary, and understandably so. While the war was horrific enough, who could these men tell about what they had seen? This was not a great war story to share with their children who were eager for grand tales of adventure. They would bear these burdens and live with them in quiet resentment.

  Then, Hanns and his fellow soldier went over to the body of a teenage girl, likely no older than fifteen, who was a mere few feet from the medical tent. Eleonore’s heart broke for her and she recalled the two teenage girls who had been murdered by lethal poison in her cell by Dr. Mengele. She remembered how beautiful they were and how unrepentant their murderer had been. Eleonore wished with all her heart that Dr. Mengele had been captured and that he would get his just punishment for what he had done.

  This time, however, the soldier with Hanns collapsed and fell to his knees beside the teenage girl.

  “Get up!” Hanns shouted.

  “I…I can’t” The soldier clutched his chest breathlessly.

  “Yes, you can!” Hanns looked at him with incredible rage.

  “I’ve got nothing left to give,” the soldier looked up at Hanns to be lenient. He was a young man, not much older than the girl he was kneeling beside, and Eleonore wondered if she reminded him of someone special back home.

  “She has nothing left to give,” Hanns pointed to the body of the girl lying in front of him. “You’re still breathing.”

  “I just need a minute,” the soldier wiped the sweat from his forehead.

  “No! Up!” Hanns remained adamant.

  “These are our people,” the soldier held the dead girl’s cold hand. “I don’t mean just that they were Jews, but they were German as well. My family escaped, and your family escaped, but this could’ve easily been us. It could’ve been my brother’s body that they were throwing into a mass grave or my mother who had been found nearly dead at the gate. The American Jews are mad at what was done to our people, and rightfully so, but this is on a whole different level for me and you.”

  Kneeling beside the soldier, Hanns spoke softly, “Then let’s lay her to rest. Now is the time for action, we can reflect later.”

  Agreeing, the soldier stood to his feet and summoned the strength as he placed his hands under the girl’s arms. With a heave, the two took the girl and set her down gently in the pit that had now been filled with bodies.

  Suddenly, a great commotion arose just out of Eleonore’s view but coming from near the tent. Some of the guards outside the tent took notice as well and left their posts immediately and ran towards the scene. Eleonore watched as even Hanns ran in the direction of the chaos. Curious, Eleonore left her cot and peeked her head out the entrance to catch a glimpse.

  About fifty yards from where Eleonore was, a group of Allied soldiers were escorting a Nazi doctor towards the pit. Her heart leapt with terror when Eleonore recognized him as the same doctor who had performed the abortion on her. About ten men guarded him against their fellow soldiers who were determined to cause the doctor harm. A soldier or two were fortunate enough to land a punch against the doctor’s jaw or face and some even grabbed chunks of his hair.

  The Allied soldiers began arguing amongst themselves about how to deal with the doctor. Many were enraged that this devil was permitted to continue drawing breath, others were eager to commit him over to a slower, more painful end. Still, others were resolved to defend him, knowing what their superiors intended as his punishment.

  Eleonore watched as Hanns stood at a slight distance, observing the doctor with hateful malice. He held his hands in his pockets as he smoked, and to most, Hanns would appear oddly calm, but Eleonore knew different. She had only recently been acquainted with this officer, but he held the same terrible gaze on the doctor as he did when talking about Rudolph.

  Eventually, the escort stopped in front of the pit which was filled to the brim with bodies and the doctor, shaking from fear, was forced to confront the horrors of his labors. Two guards, one on each side of the doctor, held onto his arms and if he so dared to lower his head or close his eyes, he was delivered a swift strike from their batons. The soldiers who were of a more vindictive disposition quieted their thirst for retribution when they realized the chastisement at hand. They backed away as they allowed this just torment to unfold.

  A stillness fell upon everyone at the camp as they watched the Nazi doctor, who had taken the oath to do no harm, standing before his mountain of sins. The only sound was his pathetic sobbing, and Eleonore believed that his whimpering was not from regret, but from trepidation of what awaited him.

  “You killed my husband!” a shout arose, cutting against the silence, and Eleonore saw a woman, on the other side of the pit, pointing wildly at the doctor. “A curse be on you!”

  “You took my daughter!” another woman beside the first cried out. “You took my daughter! You took my daughter!”

  Soon, the camp erupted into bitter cursing as one by one the other inmates joined in the condemnation of this doctor until no one was silent. They called out the names of those he had killed, filling heaven with their lamentations. Eleonore wanted to shout the names of Ella, Em, Ruth, and Alex, but her voice was caught in her throat and she remained silent.

  Then, amidst this uproar, Eleonore noticed with marvel as a Rabbi and a Priest entered the camp. They strode together in unison as both religions tread upon the unholy earth beneath their feet. The Catholic Priest was ador
ned with a purple stole around his neck and the Rabbi wore a double star on his tunic. Both holy men were white as ghosts and their legs became as heavy as lead as they walked into the camp. They covered their noses with their hands to drown out the stench, but both were too shocked for words and were lost on how to convey their emotions.

  Slowly, the camp returned to silence as they took notice of these pious men and awaited their reaction. Many looked to them to answer an impossible question. These men bore the unbearable burden of being the bridge between heaven and earth. Yet now their pious professions seemed so inadequately prepared to answer on God’s behalf for this level of devastation.

  Then, suddenly, a famished inmate who was near Eleonore left the tent and approached the Rabbi. He was more than half-starved and bruised from beatings, and the Rabbi’s breath was stolen from the horror of seeing a human in such a dreadful condition.

  “The dead walk,” a tear fell from the Rabbi as he looked on the inmate with immense pity.

  Gently grabbing the Rabbi’s tunic, the inmate felt the double star and broke out into sobs as he stroked the badge of faith and cried, “Rabbiner, Rabbiner.”

  Taking the inmate’s hand into his, the Rabbi whispered something to him that Eleonore couldn’t hear. Then, gently, the Rabbi placed his hand on the inmate’s shoulder before leaving the crumpled man with a seed of resolve that he didn’t possess before.

  Walking towards the mass grave, the Rabbi and Priest didn’t so much as offer the whimpering Nazi doctor a glance. He didn’t exist in their eyes, and Eleonore assumed what they were likely thinking: his soul was lost. Then, the two men stood, alone, before the mass grave and gave the signal for it to be filled with earth.

  Eleonore watched as soldiers and former prisoners stood and observed the burial silently, no one daring to say a word. Eleonore spotted the Rabbi weeping as the grave was filled. Regardless of their religion, the soldiers removed their helmets while the officers removed their caps and held them by their sides. All but the nurses and doctors who were busy saving their patients had ceased their work.

  Eleonore was moved at the emotion of the Rabbi and, to pay her respects, held her hands gently in front of her and bowed her head as he recited the Kaddish. Some other inmates from the tent joined her outside as well and she could hear them quietly reciting along with the Rabbi.

  Eleonore was amazed that anyone could believe in God at a time like this. Where was He when she was placed in the stock cars packed with people? Where was He when Em’s son was taken to the gas chambers? Where was He when Rudolph took advantage of her? Where was He when so many of His own people were killed?

  A sharp cynicism raged within her and she couldn’t understand why the divine had been so absent. The Priest and Rabbi seemed to be sharing in her disbelief as they paused at certain parts of their prayers, seeing that the words were inappropriate for the circumstance.

  “Blessed be His name,” the Priest cleared his throat and swayed awkwardly as he fumbled with the prayer book in his hands, unsure of how to continue.

  But, after the Catholic and Jewish prayers were recited, the bulldozer roared to life again as it started on the next mass grave. There was still much work to be done, and many bodies required proper burial.

  “Take this,” a nurse handed a bowl to a patient near Eleonore.

  “Here,” another nurse handed Eleonore a lukewarm bowl of broth and some dry bread.

  “Thank you,” Eleonore looked at the nurse with genuine gratitude. Though, she wondered if she could eat. The broth rolled around slowly which reminded her of how kind Mrs. Felix had been to give her the simple gift of a bowl. Without such a basic necessity, she would’ve faced a torturous death by starvation.

  Snap!

  Eleonore looked up from her bowl, startled by the sound, to see a photographer kneeling and taking a photograph of her and the others around the medical tent. Irate that the man showed no sensitivity during such an event, Eleonore stormed back into the tent.

  “If we could just gather the few of you together for another picture,” an interpreter spoke to those who had remained outside.

  Returning to her cot, Eleonore fumed at the tactless photographer. How could he be so rude? She thought as she clenched her jaw and wished that she had the strength to confront him.

  There are bigger things to focus on, Eleonore reminded herself and calmed a little, feeling a bit selfish for her reaction. Dipping the bread into her soup, Eleonore took a bite and felt the broth burn her dry throat.

  “Ah, Rabbi,” a nurse called, and Eleonore looked up to see that the Rabbi had entered the tent.

  She studied the man with interest mixed with admiration. Many in the camp were looking to him for answers which, she assumed, he was searching for as well. Yet she also found it odd that he, as a chaplain, was armed with a pistol holstered at his side. Should she have found herself in a healthier state, both spiritually and physically, she would’ve loved to engage this intriguing man in conversation.

  But the discussions she wished to participate in now seemed inconsequential. Philosophy, theology, and other such existential subjects felt so impractical and trivial that she was almost embarrassed that she ever concerned herself with them at all. The pursuit of happiness and the concerns of daily life had fallen silent at the feet of a singular purpose: survival.

  “Someone was asking for me?” the Rabbi looked kindly at the nurse, but Eleonore could tell that he was in shock and, mentally, he was still standing before the mass grave.

  “That’s right,” the nurse led him to the back of the tent. “There was a baby boy born about a week ago and the mother would like him to be circumcised.”

  A baby born here? Eleonore shook her head. Thank God the Allies arrived in time. But just as the thought entered her mind, another thought arose in contention. Thank God? Why thank Him? What about the other thousands of babies or pregnant women killed by the Nazis? What about your own child that the Nazis aborted when you arrived here?! Or how about the reason for your pregnancy in the first place?! Where was God then?!

  “Good,” a familiar voice spoke, and Eleonore looked up to see Hanns standing over her. “You need to regain your strength,” he nodded to her bowl of broth.

  “Howard, there you are,” a nurse came over and spoke to Hanns in German, though she talked slowly and a bit haltingly as it wasn’t her native tongue.

  Why did she call him Howard? Eleonore wondered, but was distracted by a young girl, no older than five, clinging to the nurse. Her hair had been shaved, she had scars and bruises on her face, and there were dark circles under her eyes from malnutrition. Still, there was something familiar about her that Eleonore couldn’t quite identify. She gave a slight smile to the girl, but she only clung tighter and looked away from Eleonore.

  “This little one claims that her mother was shipped to another camp just last week,” the nurse put her hand behind the girl’s back and edged her forward.

  “Last week?” Hanns looked down at the girl who replied with a nod, but still without much emotion.

  “What’s your name?” Hanns asked quickly but the girl was too shy to answer.

  “I’ll need a name if I’m to find your mother,” Hanns continued, but the girl looked vacantly back at him.

  “There are millions of people now displaced throughout Europe,” Hanns spoke in a hushed tone to the nurse. “Finding this girl’s mother will be nearly impossible.”

  “Howard, we must try,” the nurse persisted.

  Why does she keep calling him Howard? Eleonore squinted as she looked at Hanns suspiciously, curious as to what he was hiding from her.

  Studying the girl, Hanns retrieved a notepad from his satchel and knelt in front of her, “Can you write?”

  The girl nodded.

  “Can you spell your mother’s name?”

  Again, the girl nodded.

  “Good,” Hanns put the notepad down on the foot of Eleonore’s cot. “Write it for me and I’ll try to find your mom, ok
ay?”

  “Go on,” the nurse encouraged her and pointed to the notepad.

  Cautiously, the girl walked to the foot of the cot and, taking up the pencil, wrote her mother’s name. Her writing was large and clumsy, but legible enough for Hanns to read it properly.

  “I’ll find out what I can,” Hanns spoke to the nurse as he studied the girl’s writing.

  “God bless you!” The nurse grabbed Hanns’ arm.

  “Don’t invoke the Almighty in a place like this,” Hanns’ face grew red with rage.

  “Sorry,” the nurse covered her mouth with her hand, distraught that she had overstepped.

  “Miss Hodys,” Hanns turned towards Eleonore, “I place this girl in your care until I’ve had the opportunity to investigate. In the meantime, I’ll continue helping with the bodies. Nurse, please see that they are cared for.”

  “Of course,” the nurse tried to hold the girl’s hand and lead her towards Eleonore, but the girl dug in her heels and refused to be coerced.

  Stunned at the turn of events, Eleonore watched Hanns swiftly exit the tent.

  “I have other patients to attend to,” the nurse gave a polite, but substantial push for the girl to leave her care and enter that of Eleonore’s.

  For a moment, Eleonore and the girl faced each other at a complete loss for how to interact. While children were naturally attracted to Eleonore, she found herself increasingly unsure of how to entertain them. In a setting like this, where the girl was as alone and as frightened as Eleonore, she wished that she had had a say in the change of her occupation.

  “What’s your name, sweetie?” Eleonore asked eventually.

  The girl didn’t answer but stared at Eleonore with an emptiness that no child should ever understand.

  Suddenly, the bulldozer roared to life and the girl jolted towards Eleonore, terrified at the sound.

  “I’ve got you,” Eleonore put an arm around the girl whose attention was locked on the machine digging another grave.

  “Don’t watch,” Eleonore gave a warm smile as she turned the girl’s face towards hers. “It’s not something little girls should see.”