Chapter 23

We started to get into the van, but, unfortunately, not as fast as he wanted us to. The women began to press forward into the dark chasm. The small cab was getting crowded. Some were shoved against the sides to make room for those still waiting on the pavement to get in. Shrieks rose from the center of the vehicle.

"Oh, my toes."

"Look out. I can't stand up; you're crowding me."

I was still waiting my turn to tackle the high step into the van. Somehow I just couldn't get in fast enough for the guard. Suddenly I felt a sharp kick on my bottom. It was painful, as well as humiliating. I scrambled as fast as I could into the black cavern.

No more children, no more friends ... alone with the 29 other women prisoners inside. Suddenly, I realized we were off on a long, unknown journey to somewhere.

In half an hour the van stopped abruptly. The rear door screeched open. We poured out of the tight quarters of the van-like vehicle.

"Form ranks of four," the order came. The guard led us to a standing row of freight cars at the railroad station, four kilometers [ca. 2.5 miles] from the town. One of the guards left us to inquire about the train schedule for our departure. We waited for a half hour. He returned and ordered us again, "About face! Return to the van!"

We had arrived too late; we missed our connection. It was back again to the bedbugs. This time I got into the cab with no help from the guard's boot or knee.

We settled back in the vehicle and then in the prison cell. No more than two hours later, we again were on our way to the railroad station. This time we made the train schedule.

"Where to?" asked Mary in a way denoting that she expected an answer.

We were crowded into a special section reserved for prisoners. The train started off with a long whistle, a toot and a shrill note. It went slowly rattling and sputtering on the rails, but it was a relaxing ride of four hours. The rhythmic clickety-clack, clickety- clack, soothed our frenzied nerves.

"We're going west, but where to?" asked Fran.

From one of the women came a knowing reply. "They're taking us to a concentration camp, where they'll make soap out of us," chirped Madge.

"Who told you that?" asked Kathy, who was known as a doubting Thomas.

"Well, I know. You know I had German friends and they warned me."

"Then why didn't you go to Warsaw, if you knew about it? You knew my mother got over the green border and she is there now," I said to find out more.

"I didn't think they were going to come for me so soon," she replied.

"How come you did not warn any of your friends of this?" Helen interjected with a sneer in her voice.

We dropped the conversation and each of us thought about this friend, who really was not a friend.