I complete my list for the store and grab my coat, purse, and scarf, to make the short walk to the bus stop. The winds are brutal today, making me think about the prisoners who must be working outside in their thin layers of clothing.
I pull my gloves out of my pockets and slip them on over my hands before tightening my scarf once more as I approach the full bench of people also waiting for the bus.
“Emilie Berger,” a familiar voice speaks out from behind me. “Where are you heading?”
I turn around, finding Helga, dressed similarly to me, blowing cold puffs of air out of her mouth. “Hi, Helga. Oh, I just have to make a quick trip to the grocery store.”
“Me too,” she says. “I went to start making dinner and found out I had a bad batch of potatoes and I’m out of cream. I didn’t have any intention of weathering this cold today.”
I smile at her rather than think up something to respond with. I wish we were closer or had spent more time together since it seems she and her husband, Wilhelm, have a similar marital setup as Otto and me. He keeps her in the dark and assumes she’ll be okay with it, but she’s not. Just like me.
“I prefer warmer weather too,” I finally blurt out.
THIRTY-FOUR
DANNER
OCTOBER 1942
Dachau, Germany
To be separated from the other few surviving volunteers has left me wondering where they have gone. The Nazi guard had only ever guaranteed I would avoid execution by volunteering. But they expected me to die freezing in the tub. With the help of Emilie, I’ve defied the odds and I’m not sure what will become of me now. That, and I’ve been left wondering what will become of Emilie.
A guard releases my arm in front of the barrack I had been living in prior to being observed in the sick bay. “If you speak a word about anything you heard, saw, experienced, or know, you will be executed immediately, without warning.”
I assumed I would be placed under a gag order if I returned to the barrack. I’m surprised they’ve let me come back here. It doesn’t seem to be the way they operate. They use us and then likely dispose of us, which is why I know now that execution would have been a better option in the first place.
I trudge into the barrack, toward the back, seeking through the darkness for the wool covered wooden plank I’d used as mybed. The others are already asleep and aside from the faint glow from the moon, there’s no light.Not until I pass by the narrow vacant spot do I know I’ve arrived at my bunk. It’s much harder to make my way to the top with the fatigue and weakness I’m now battling, but I manage to make it up and roll onto my side, praying sleep will come easily.
“You’re back?” Hans peers through squinted eyes, the reflection from tired tears captures a bit of light. “I thought you were done for. It’s been weeks.”
“Yeah, I’m back,” I reply.
“What did they do to you?”
The memory of ice-cold stabbing knives slowly tearing my skin to shreds flashes through my mind. The screams within me are still present. “They didn’t need me,” I lie. Even if my life weren’t threatened, if I were to speak of what occurred, I’m not sure I’d be doing Hans much good by sharing my nightmares.
“Thank God, brother. Thank God you’re back in one piece. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you. What about Emilie, did you see her again?”
I have the urge to hug this man, a man with a heart and soul, still living like me—just one person who knows I’m still alive is somehow more important than being alive. “I appreciate your concern. It means a lot,” I say.“And briefly, but it was too dangerous to talk.”
“A vision is worth a lot of words. I’m sure you were exchanging thoughts. It’s something, right?”
It’s something. Life is cruel.
“You’re right. I’m lucky to have at least caught a glimpse,” I say, knowing he would do anything to see Matilda too.
Hans shuffles his arms beneath his cheek, resting in the way he often tries to sleep until we realize how hard the wood truly is against our protruding rib cages. “While you were gone, I couldn’t help but think at least I could tell people someday that Iknew you and you were one of the good ones. I could keep your name alive if given the chance. Then, of course, my thoughts led me to wondering if anyone would remembermyname if I didn’t survive. The thought of never letting a loved one know what has become of us is more heartbreaking than the thought of losing this battle.”
It seems we’re all on our way to losing hope.
“I don’t know what the future holds, but if I somehow manage to walk out of here, I hope you do too, and if not, I promise you I’ll make sure your name is not forgotten and your loved ones know what became of you.”
It feels like I’m making an empty promise when I don’t see how any of us will walk away from this prison, but to die thinking no one will ever know our stories leaves us without any purpose.
Hans pulls his arm out from beneath his cheek and pats my back. “You’re an honorable man,” Hans says.
“As are you,” I reply.
