Chapter 28

I was restless in the camp, fearing for the safety of my children, left alone in Torun in the basement flat. I did not hear from them, or anyone, for two months. In the meantime, my sister, Lillian, living in Warsaw, received a letter from Irene, informing her I had been arrested and imprisoned somewhere. Immediately, she filed petitions with the German authorities in Warsaw to release the girls from Torun into her care. After two months of waiting, the girls left Torun by train for the capital. There my sister lived with her husband and daughter. My mother joined them, when she fled from Torun in the spring of 1941. My daughters had a loving mother in Aunt Lillian, who cared for them as she did for her own child.

Notwithstanding the newness of the camp, the new clothes, the good food in the Red Cross cartons, new friends, the splendid garden, the walks and daily hikes in the woods, and the fresh air around us, all this began to bore us and we yearned to return to Poland.

Tensions of living in close quarters within the confines of the prison brought out the worst in some. Tempers flared for no reason at all. Some reacted more seriously than others. Other times the women became morose. They became resentful over nothing. Usually, their anger was impersonal.

It seemed that the atmosphere was ripe for what happened next. We had just returned to our rooms from our daily two-hour hike, when Aggie, in an angry voice, bellowed my name for all present to hear. Next, a long volley of trumped-up charges came flying at me. "I know why you didn't get along with your sisters. You always caused trouble for them. That is why they both moved to Warsaw shortly before the war began; they didn't want to have anything to do with you. They hated you."

Hearing these false accusations directed my way, by someone whom I didn't know before the war, stunned me. I listened. I could not understand why anyone would try to stir up trouble for me or anyone else now, while we were in prison. As always, I was quiet; I tried to get along with everyone and suddenly this irresponsible outburst! The women looked at me, hoping to hear something. I felt humiliated. I couldn't find words to defend myself. I knew the reason my sisters left for Warsaw; both their husbands had been transferred earlier to the capital and wives usually followed their husbands. So stunned was I that I couldn't say a word. I just sat on the edge of my bed and took the insinuations coming my way.

What caused this outburst of ill-feeling toward me? Why did Aggie have to manufacture such cruel charges?

I knew they were false. I didn't argue with her, because I knew she was wrong. I felt hurt, embarrassed and crushed. I was speechless at the heartless, inconsiderate actions of my peer.

Depressed, I just sat and thought how cruel women could be to each other. Maybe Aggie wanted to start a fight, but I was the last one to take the hint.

Soon, all quieted down and each went back to her work. It was a long time before I could forget this sudden outburst.

That same day, however, I asked the C.O. to move me to another room. There the women were more congenial.

As for my sisters, we lived in harmony with each other then, and we still have a very sincere relationship today.

Since I could not return to Poland, I kept in touch by writing to my family and husband. Each of the internees received two letter sheets and two postcards a month. One letter and postcard went to my husband in the camp for Polish officers and the other to my sister, who had charge of our girls. Not much could I write; the letters were censored at the camp and then cleared at the local post office. The letters I received from the outside with the word "censored" stamped on the envelopes were always open. Once my husband enclosed a small snapshot of himself. By mailing this picture, he not only made me very happy, but also showed me that he looked well, not skinny. How wonderful to see his dear and still handsome face.

When I received word that my children were in Warsaw, I was extremely delighted. Now I knew they would be well taken care of, although Warsaw, as well as any place in Poland, was a dangerous spot to be. No one, anywhere in that country, could escape the Nazis.

Later, I learned my sister Lillian had enrolled the two girls in private schools, which were now held in big homes. No public schools existed in Warsaw. There they studied academic subjects. Irene was in high school [gymnazium]; Dana was sill in the elementary. (These schools were administered by the Polish Underground.) Frequent inspections by the German authorities were held to see what the girls were doing. For this purpose, the class had the appearance of a sewing factory.

A doorkeeper living on the main floor of the factory was an underground member. It was he who checked the coming and going of the inhabitants of the building. When the alarm was sounded by him on the street level, all books were quickly shoved into hiding. The sewing came out. Upon opening the door of the so-called "sewing apartment," the Germans would find everyone busy sewing or stitching away at a piece of fabric. Usually they were shirts. The school, being on the upper floor, made the change from school to factory routinely. Because of the many safety locks on the door which needed to be opened, the girls already were sewing when the inspector arrived. They continued to work industriously until the doorkeeper on the main floor gave the signal that the Nazis were out of the building.

These interruptions occurred sporadically, but the watchman was a faithful member of the Polish Underground force and by his actions saved many young girls and Polish youths from concentration camps. Besides sewing and serious study, the children were being used as couriers for the underground. They were very serious about saving Poland. This school was closed in July, 1944, shortly before the Polish Uprising, planned for August 1st.

Now that I knew where my daughters were residing, I could, from time to time, receive permission from the Commanding Officer, a German official, to mail food parcels to them. Many of us had families. We all busied ourselves, choosing the best items from the Red Cross gift parcels for the shipment. There was one restriction in so doing. Chocolate bars were forbidden to be in the parcel. Of course, that sweet was most coveted by both children and adults in Poland, or anywhere. In order to send the chocolate bars, there had to be way of camouflaging them. I recalled the one-pound box of prunes, I had received in the Red Cross carton. I carefully unsealed one flap. This flap opened, I took the chocolate bars and broke them in even pieces. I remembered to have a layer of prunes at both ends, in case the guard inspected the package. Then, I laid the pieces of candy neatly in the box, covering them with a layer of prunes and, with as much accuracy as possible, I glued the wrapper. It was as good as in the original state. This was then included in my two-kilogram parcel.

I waited for a reply from Warsaw. Alas, my sister listed the contents of the package that arrived and thanked me for it. I, however, did not know whether she received the prune container with the chocolate bars. Some time elapsed. Then came a letter in which she mentioned, "The prunes were unusually delicious, and Irene and Dana really enjoyed them."

The next time we received permission to mail cartons home, I tried the same method with a spaghetti box, which, at that time, arrived in long, narrow boxes. After the first concealed box of sweets, Irene and Dana always opened the boxes first, knowing they would contain the chocolate bars.

The English internees received parcels, likewise. Theirs contained mutton pies, tea, English cigarettes and biscuits, but no sweets. They soon tired of the contents of their cartons and suggested bartering English tea for Nescafe, mutton for Prem, sometimes tea for a packet of American cigarettes or a bar of chocolate. Now and then we exchanged parcels, usually getting an inferior bargain than the English.

A time came when the German nuns in the kitchen were willing to barter cigarettes for eggs, as well as for sugar. We now fared well. With our Prem, spaghetti and noodles, we could enjoy a delicious casserole; we sometimes asked permission from the nun to place dishes in the oven along with her baking. Many times, she gave us the necessary ingredients to make a cake. Now, even the German nuns made out well with our cigarettes, coffee, tea and chocolate bars.