The Desperate Days
By GL Dorion
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About this ebook
The idealistic Anna tells her Warsaw University medical school friends during the 1939 German invasion they should meet the German soldiers with Tolstoyan passive resistance, not violence.
All were drinking beer in the cafe, except Anna who had classes.
“Yes, Comrade Anna. If a German fascist comes at me with his semi-automatic blazing away,” said Victor, “I’ll just show him your copy of Tolstoy, and say, ‘Hey, please stop. There’s a better way than violence. Let me show you this book I’ve been reading.”
All in the group - about ten people, most of them drunk – laughed uproariously.
“You know, you guys should fucking grow up!” Anna said. “And I wouldn’t go off making fun of Tolstoy. If Germany attacks us, the Soviets may well help their good comrades in Poland. Just because the Russians exploited us in the past doesn’t mean it’ll happen again. They are our comrades now. We are all in this together as good communists. So, you know something, you can insult Tolstoy all you want but you get fucking stupid sometimes when you drink! I’ve got to get to class. Good-bye comrades.”
“The group roared again with laughter. Victor stood up and raised his glass prompting the rest of the group to stand and raise their glasses. “To Comrade Anna, Comrade Tolstoy and Comrade Stalin! May they save Europe and the world from Comrade Hitler!” The group roared again, and drank the full drought of beer left in their glasses
“Drunken fools!” Anna shouted.
An hour later, the bombs rained down on the cafe .
Anna's ordeal had just begun.
GL Dorion
About me:I live in Thailand with my wife, Uraiwan, four dogs, and granddaughter, Smile, 2, in Issan Province where I am writing new books and maintaining our property which basically has a ranch-style two-bedroom home, numerous fruit trees (banana, mango, cherry and lime trees) and a tropical fish pond with about 2000 tiny fish, many lotus flowers and some very noisy frogs.I retired from teaching in 2013 after 13 years in NYC high schools. In 2004, I took a year off, and wrote at Starbucks in Astor Place every day, substantially writing three books, although two -"The Jack Trilogy" and "Desperate Days" - took years to finish.Back then, I taught English, Global History, and journalism.Historical fiction has been my favorite genre since my elementary school years. I still recall being fascinated with the 'World History’ textbooks as early as the 4th or 5th grade. In high school, I was independently reading the great Russian writers. I continued to independently pursue a classical education by reading dozens of the ancient works of Greece and Rome while reading classical philosophers up to the more modern ones.I studied English and journalism at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, where I received BA degrees, received my Master of Science in Literacy at Touro College, Manhattan, and took night classes in European history and French Painting at Harvard.I spent ten years as a news reporter in Boston-area courts. Those years were a fantastic learning experience. I began in 1980 as the Lowell Sun's court reporter in Cambridge. There were nearly 100 prosecutors in the DA's office then. I later took over the Middlesex News Service, and it expanded it by adding a dozen or so client news organizations including the Associated Press. Few people see a murder trial gavel to gavel during their lifetime. I saw about 500. Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment and Kafka's, The Trial, were the inspiration behind those years. It's amazing what books can do.
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The Desperate Days - GL Dorion
Chapter 3 The Bakery
Chapter 4 The Confrontation
Chapter 5 Checkmate
Chapter 6 Germination
Chapter 7 Exuberant Youth
Chapter 8 Extermination
Blue Sky
Chapter 9 Resistance Deferred
Chapter 10 The Visitor
Chapter 11 Treachery
Chapter 12 Comrade Anna
Chapter 13 Bitter Fruit
Chapter 14 Hitler’s Lesson for Europe
Chapter 15 Holiday from Treblinka
Chapter 16 The Treblinka SS Soldier
Chapter 17 Payment
Chapter 18 The Ghetto
Chapter 19 Little Elena
Chapter 20 The Ukranian’s Priest Tale
Chapter 21 Promises
Chapter 22 Youthful Dreams
Chapter 23 Comrades
Chapter 24 A Special Purchase
Chapter 25 SS Barracks
Chapter 26 Treasure Trove
Chapter 27 In the Ghetto
Chapter 28 Climbing Walls
Chapter 29 Mama
The Court of the Dead
Fascists
Chapter 30 Auschwitz
"Work Will Set You Free"
Chapter 31 Fierce Resistance from "Cowar...
Chapter 32 Interrogation
Chapter 33 First Night
Chapter 34 Mengele
Chapter 35 I Warned You
Chapter 36 Auschwitz Reunion
Chapter 37 Langner’s Game
Chapter 38 Resist
Chapter 39 The Diary
Chapter 40 Keeping Germany from Turnin...
Chapter 41 Love Blooms at Birkenau
Chapter 42 The Guard House
Chapter 43 Redemption
Chapter 44 Langner’s Golgatha
Chapter 45 The Brink of Death
Chapter 46 Leaving the Place of the Dead
Chapter 47 Berlin 1945-46
Chapter 48 Langner’s Rise
Chapter 49 Frieda
Chapter 50 The Extremist
Chapter 51 Nazi Eyes
Chapter 52 The Arrest
Chapter 53 My Poor Nazi
Chapter 54 Welcome Home My Good Nazi
Chapter 55 The Revelation
Chapter 56 The Search
Chapter 57 The Interrogator
Chapter 58 Judge and Executioner
Chapter 59 Blue Sky
Chapter 60 Anna’s Sorrow
Chapter 61 A Sister’s Lament
Chapter 62 Farewell, My Auschwitz
Chapter 63 Pot of Gold
Chapter 64 America
Dedication
Reviews
About
Titles
Sample Chapters – Author’s Other Books
Chapter 1: Anna and Lebensraum
I hate you! You, Nazi bastard! You, Nazi pig! You will pay for this!
Anna Leibowitz told herself trying to contain her anger deep inside as her eyes flashed hatred. Yes, I would never hurt a fly but one day I’ll kill this bastard!
she secretly vowed.
Minutes earlier, feeling trapped, she left her dead friend’s little girl, Mindy, with her landlady on the first floor of the tenement building and climbed the steep, winding stairway to her flat with Sergeant Otto Langner, of the Waffen SS, a Treblinka death camp guard.
Langer had seen Anna and Mindy earlier that day merrily walking hand in hand along Muranowska Street, Warsaw, Poland. Langner - skilled in hunting and baiting Jews - saw an opportunity. Now in Anna’s attic apartment on the top level, he was thrilled with himself, and with her anger, her humiliation, her discomfort.
Anna remained silent for the child’s sake. How can I get away from him?
she wondered, standing next to the large metal washtub in which he had just ordered her to bathe.
She tightly wrapped a towel around her body. Seated at the table with two wooden chairs in the tiny kitchen, Langner, his muddy jackboots resting on one chair, motioned for her to go to the bed in the far corner of the two-room flat. She complied. She sat. She began to cry. She became angry at this uncontrolled response of her body. She hated him for provoking it.
Langner arose, approached, lifted her chin slightly with his bear-like hand, stared into her deep blue eyes, and said, Relax, I’m not so bad.
So now the wolf shows himself,
Anna thought. Everything inside her protested. She felt sick. She wanted to run. The apartment had belonged to her teacher friend who perished in the Luftwaffe bombing during the September 1939 German invasion of Poland. The sergeant’s black leather boots muddied the fir floor. She had followed the wet footprints into her flat after he used her key to open the door. Anna frantically tried to figure a way out.
There wasn’t any. Sometimes that’s how things go. Anna had put one foot in front of the other like a condemned criminal taking the walk.
Feeling flushed with victory, Langner knew she would not walk away and would protect the child at any cost. He walked leisurely into the dim room smoking one of the cigarettes he had stolen from one of the Polish kids in Three Crosses Square. He never paid if he didn’t have to.
The fire had gone out in the small coal stove. Anna lit it. She turned. She stared at him. She remembered thinking this would be the worst experience of her life. While the sergeant was taking her, thousands of other women were waging their own war against the ruthless German army and were paying the price, like Anna.
In a few months the mass deportations of the Warsaw Ghetto Jews would begin. Most had a date with death at the Treblinka extermination camp.
After raping her, Langner put on his wet, dirty greatcoat, went to the doorway, turned toward her with a big smile on his fat face and said, I’ll be back. Next time I’ll have to show you my real charms!
Anna remained on the bed, crying softly and blaming herself for being stupid.
For twenty minutes she lay there thinking about what happened, never expecting it would happen to her. She knew women who had been raped.
In a daze, she left her flat. She walked down six flights to the landlady’s apartment, but the winding stairs made her dizzy and nauseous. Anna stopped and resisted the urge to go out in the cold snowy afternoon with the brisk fresh air. She was supposed to pick up Mindy. She hesitated at her landlady’s door, then knocked while wondering what explanation she would give to the old woman for her bruised face, blood-shot eyes and puffy face.
It was April 1, 1942 on the ‘Aryan" side of Warsaw. Outside, the snow had turned to rain which briefly paused. Streams of sunlight pierced the heavy gray clouds warming the chilled Warsaw inhabitants like a long-awaited friend. It was the third year of the occupation. The once invincible German Army was beginning to crack.
Anna knocked weakly on Marta Kryzhinsky’s door. Her landlady answered immediately. She had been waiting for Anna. As soon as the door opened, the grey-haired woman, a kerchief on her head and a red-checkered, flour-spotted apron tied to her waist, looked with disgust at Anna whose face was bruised and bleeding.
You, poor girl! Poor girl, come in now,
she said. That monster! He did this, huh? Well, it’s to be expected.
The pleasant aroma of Polish buttermilk, dark rye bread permeated the air. The old woman, a smidgeon of flour on her right cheek, said Mindy was still napping. Anna felt nauseated by the aroma. She needed to get out into the street for air.
I know I should have listened to you. I’m sorry,
she said softly, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Come sit. I give you the hot tea and the warm bread. It will make you feel better. Sit now. There, sip slowly. Careful, it’s hot. There now, you’re lucky he didn’t do worse! A hard lesson, a hard lesson,
the landlady said. You should have listened to me! I know about life. It’s good to take the advice of an old woman who has seen some things.
I know. I’m so sorry. You were right, and I was stupid, but Mindy was inside all winter during daylight. I just thought one walk in the spring sun would be so good for her,
Anna said.
Good for her? You nearly got her killed. What were you thinking woman? Did you think the Huns would just look the other way? They are killing the Jewish children. You had no right to risk her or risk this house,
the landlady repeated.
Anna cried harder. I’m so stupid.
I told you not to go out, especially not to take the girl! It’s not worth it.! You must stay inside! The girl cannot go out! Oh, but now the Nazi knows where you live. He will come back, won’t he?
Yes,
Anna whispered. The beast will return, and I will have to pay again. She was sniffling and asked for a handkerchief. Her face was puffy with a reddish blotch where Langner slapped her. She had expected the old woman to be sympathetic.
He would have sent Mindy to Treblinka and deported you for hiding Jews. I think he will not deport us. But he’ll be back. What can I do? I had to do what he wanted."
I know, I know. There was no choice at that point. But you should have listened to me. I know things! I’ve seen life! You must be smart in these times. You cannot take the chances! Any more like this, and you and the girl will have to leave. I’d ask you to go now, but that monster would make me suffer for that. You must stay now and see what he does. You must stay. Drink your tea.
Mrs. Kryzhinsky had brought hot bread to Anna. It was wrapped in a light white linen towel, and the warmth in the kitchen and the aroma of the bread, although quite pleasant, nearly made Anna vomit. She could not eat anything and got up to leave for the open spring air. She refused the bread. Sorry, I feel sick, I can’t stay!"
Please do not take the child outside again!
Mrs. Kryzhinsky yelled while following Anna into the hallway. That’s like putting a big sign around her neck that says,
I’m a Jew, the old woman said.
The child is a dead giveaway! Anyone but you who sees her knows right away she’s Jewish! Can’t you see that too? We are living in a Nazi hell, so why make it worse than it has to be?"
Okay, Mrs. Kryzhinsky.
Anna said as she began running upstairs. She turned, looked down toward the old woman now standing in her doorway and said, I promise. I won’t take her out again - or maybe just a little in the neighborhood at night. I know now it was stupid of me. And I paid. And I will continue to pay. Her damn mother should have listened to me but no, she had to be where the action was! The university area was a target! She gets a bomb dropped on her head and I get her kid! And I have to pay for her stupid, stupid mistakes! But I’m not paying anymore! Don’t worry! When that fucker comes back I am going to shoot him!
No, no! Don’t use that language! I’m a good Christian woman. You Jews must stop causing problems and learn to accept things. Being angry now at God will not help. Ask his forgiveness if you want some peace,
Mrs. Kryzhinsky said.
I’m sorry but I’m so angry,
replied Anna.
You have yourself to blame. I told you not to go out!
the old woman said.
I am going to shoot this bastard when he returns,
Anna repeated.
No child. You cannot. The Bosh would take horrible revenge,
Mrs. Kryzhinsky said.
You would risk yourself, the child, me, and others in the building? No, you make the error of the judgment here. No, you make your bed, now you must sleep in it,
Mrs. Kryzhinsky said, her face and exposed neck reddening. Maybe later you can take the revenge, but not now. Not now. Do you hear? You must promise me!"
I must go now, I’ll be back tonight,
said Anna who rushed up the stairs, tripping on an exposed nail in one of the stair treads, finally pushing open her own door, banging it against the little book case and knocking over a vase that crashed onto the floor. She saw the washtub, and droplets of blood on the white pillow case. She almost vomited. She approached her dresser, opened the middle of three top drawers, and grabbed the loaded pistol that had belonged to her dead boyfriend, Marcus. She put it into her coat and rushed down the stairs hoping she would find Langner before he left on the train for Treblinka. She felt her whole world had fallen apart.
Anna could not think. She could only act but was unsure that she could do what her mind was telling her to do. She went outside into the snowy street. The snow was beginning to turn to slush. She jumped onto a slowly-moving trolley. She would go to the nearest train station where she figured the sergeant might be waiting.
Ten minutes later, the train arrived. She got off. There were German soldiers who were sleeping on benches next to their rucksacks. Anna sat down on a bench inside the station taking a few deep breaths to calm down. The aroma of kerosene permeated the air. She forgot about Langner for a moment as she relished the warmth of the station that was heated with a kerosene stove. She fingered the gun in her left pocket of her plaid woolen coat. She recalled Marcus’ argument that the invader had to be resisted using violent methods. She disagreed then, but not now.
I was stupid, she told herself,
but now, I am wizening up."
Anna waited for the sergeant, and for the train connection that would take him back to the Treblinka extermination camp. The large wooden cukoo clock imported from Bavaria rang five bells, and the cukoo bird came out of the automatically-opened doors. Cukoo, Cukoo, Cukoo, Cukoo, Cukoo,
it said. After an hour of waiting - it was now 5 pm, and dark outside. Anna asked the ticket attendant behind the barred window about a Treblinka connection. He said the next train out would leave at 5:30 pm, but it was a military only
train and not for civilians.
Okay, thanks,
Anna said. She realized there must still be blood on her face. I slipped on the ice outside a little way back,
she lied. She again took a seat on a long wooden bench. She waited. The attendant – an older gentleman with bushy mustache and bushy sideburns, a smoking pipe dangling from his lips, finally removed the pipe and asked, Why are you waiting? You cannot go!
I’m waiting for my husband,
Anna lied.
The attendant became suspicious after noticing her beaten face. He smelled trouble. He left the ticket counter area and began whispering to a security guard outside on the platform. He was puffing on a cigarette and didn’t want to be bothered.
Take care of her yourself, why don’t you! Don’t bother me! Are you afraid of a woman?
the guard said."
A single street lamp illuminated large slowly-floating snowflakes as they fell lazily from the blackness of the night sky. Anna arose. She exited fast through a station side door out into the night. She removed the handgun from her woolen coat pocket and waited in a nearby alley in the shadows near some trash cans for Langner. Two big rats scurried away.
Could I really pull the trigger?
she wondered. The bastard,
she thought referring to the sergeant, that fucking bastard!
Twenty-five minutes later, she saw him approach. Her instincts were correct. He had chosen the nearest railway station after visiting a bar. Langner walked right by the alley, unsteady on his feet, slipping and nearly falling in the snow. He did not notice Anna approach him from behind. He had drunk a half-liter of vodka. She approached him. He was now in front of her. Her boots made crunching sounds in the slush.
Did he hear me?
she wondered. Can I really shoot him?
She never hated anything or anyone so much. She wanted to see his brains on the white snow, she told herself. She raised the pistol in her left hand, steadying it with her right when she was five feet behind him. Then she was three feet away where she now understood she had a perfect kill shot. I’ve never shot anything,
she told herself. I never killed anything, except by accident or stepping on an ant by mistake or something.
She continued to walk and to keep the short distance, the snow crunching, and the gun still aimed at the sergeant’s head.
No, I cannot shoot him in the back. That would be wrong,
she thought.
Turn around Nazi pig!
she screamed, but Langner, singing merrily in a loud, deep base voice, didn’t hear her. She aimed again. She hesitated again. Turn, fucking Nazi!
she yelled.
Still the sergeant kept singing loudly - not noticing anything. He was walking a crooked path. Anna continued to follow him while trying to get up the courage to take the shot.
Langner, however, vomited in the snow bank just outside the station.
Disgusted with the sight, Anna said loudly, No, I can’t do this. Not this way. Should I face him? I can’t.
Feeling utterly defeated now, Anna stopped and watched the sergeant walk into the train station. The security guard left the station and stared at her from the platform. Anna did not follow, but stood there in the snow, turned around, and slinked back into the alleyway, slumping down near the metal trash cans wondering what to do.
Should I go back to the station and finish it?
she asked herself. She lied on the wet snow for nearly a half-hour as the wind picked up and the temperature plummeted. She arose finally and walked back to Mrs. Krizhinsky’s apartment.
Anna had taken a chance and had gone outside into the sunshine that day. Such a seemingly innocent decision changed her life. It set her on a course of determined struggle. Anna resolved that she would no longer engage in passive resistance. Walking home in the snow, she now decided that violence was necessary to survive. The Nazi who stalked her earlier and escorted into her upper apartment on Zorawia Street on the Aryan side had trapped her cunningly. The pretty 26-year-old medical intern again angrily scolded herself, but especially her dead friend for her predicament. She had submitted to Langner because the friend’s child was in her care and the German used the girl aptly to his advantage. Extortion was always looking over your shoulder in 1940’s Poland, especially if you were a Jew.
While Sgt. Otto Langner was having his way that day, the German juggernaut was inserting itself into Russian villages. It left a wake of blood, death, and unborn children as it stormed toward the 1942-43 Stalingrad debacle. Even while he took her Anna steeled herself. This menace to my people will end one day and something good will come of it,
she thought. Despite her strong Zionist beliefs and desire to start a new life in Palestine - part of which her comrades referred to as Eretz Israel - she resolved now to remain in Warsaw to fight the Nazis.
Anna thought that her conflict between being a good Zionist and a committed communist ended that day, but it had not.
Chapter 2: The Sergeant
One hour before reaching the tiny Warsaw apartment, Langner saw her for the first time - the beautiful, voluptuous, fair-skinned, alluring Jewess, Anna. She was with the little girl. Her real name was Sarah, but Anna told her she must use Mindy - never Sarah.
It was near a bakery on Muranowska Street in a wealthy section of the city. Anna easily passed as Aryan. She had died her red hair to blonde hair, and she had blue eyes, and other fair