“Those aren’t blasts coming from German guns,” another says.
“If not a German weapon…something is happening,” the man beside me says, his voice cracking.
The seconds between the last statement and a growing roar of commotion feel like an eternity as I consider what we’re hearing. One by one the six of us, who had been digging, drop our shovels. The dry dirt bursts up into fine grains from the ground, covering our shoes.
“Amer… …diers,” someone cries out.
We all exchange a look, trying to decipher what we’re hearing. “Ameri-diers?”
“They’ve come,” a stronger voice shouts from nearby. “They’ve come for us.”
The six of us stumble, dragging our toes in the dirt with each step, holding our hands above our heads to shield our eyes against the blinding sunlight.
Others spill out of various blocks along the way. Some trip but continue forward, crawling. Others fall to their knees, holding their hands over their hearts and stare up to the sky as tears leave white streaks down their faces.
We pick up our pace, walking past another shout. “God has sent the Americans to save us!”
Remarks bellow through a megaphone, remarks most of us can’t understand since they aren’t speaking German. The English language is enough comfort beyond whatever they are trying to convey. We continue forward, each step like lifting aniron weight tied to each foot, but we’re close to the rest of the crowd. When the exterior barbed wire gate comes into view, I watch a soldier take the megaphone from another and begin to speak. This time, the words are in Yiddish, which I can understand. “Medical aid and food are on its way; we need you to stay put until assistance arrives.”
The cheers become silent as if someone has turned down the volume on a radio.
“Emilie,” I cry out. “You were right. Emilie! Where are you? Can you hear me?” I buckle to my knees and roll to my side before folding over like a pancake. “Can you hear me?” Is she there with the Americans? Did she bring them here? Someone must have saved me, must have saved us. It had to be her. She promised, even though she never came back. I knew she wouldn’t break her promise.
More American soldiers line the exterior gates, all staring at us as if they don’t know what we are. They shouldn’t be afraid of us. We aren’t going to hurt them. “Have you seen Emilie?” I shout toward them. “Is she out there with you?”
No one answers me. They look like they can’t hear me. They’re staring through me like I’m a faint patch of fog. “Hello?” I shout. “Tell Emilie I’m here. I’m still here.”
I can’t hold myself up while I wait for them to respond so I curl up on the dirt-covered ground, pulling my sharp knees into my rib cage, but I keep my eyes open, staring at the soldiers so they don’t disappear.
“Please help,” I cry.
FORTY-EIGHT
EMILIE
MAY 1945
Munich, Germany
I turn up the radio, even though I’m not sure the volume can go much higher. I’m afraid I’ll miss something.
“Emilie, please turn it down. It’s so loud and they aren’t saying anything different from what they’ve been saying for days,” Mama says, pinching her fingers around her forehead.
Gerty is here, watching me pace the kitchen, but she’s staring at Mama who’s bouncing Theo on her hip. He’s Gerty’s spitting image, but with vocal cords twice as loud as hers.
“The noise is upsetting Theo too.” Theo isn’t crying or screaming. He’s making a racket like he enjoys doing, as per most three-year olds.
“There’s more noise in the streets than in this house and I don’t want to miss an update,” I argue.
Between learning about the death of Hitler and the war coming to an end here, there have been so many announcements, but new broadcasts seem infrequent compared to the repetitive announcements being played.
“I should go down there. I can help,” I say again.
“Have you not heard what they’re doing to the German guards who were caught at Dachau?” Papa shouts at me. “There’s a reason we got you out of that town, and it’s not safe there for you.”
Do I deserve to be kept safe when so many have been killed and tortured to death?
“No one knows who I am, not at this point. Danner could have been liberated. He’ll need help. I must go.”
