A Loss of Innocence

Jess Lonchas

Part One: "Why? We have done nothing."

2 March 1942

"Raus! Hurry up you Jewish Swine! Move! Los!"

Tears stung the fourteen-year-olds eyes. He clutched his younger 
sister's hand tightly as he followed his parents and the others. They 
had been rounded up from their homes and made to march to an unknown 
destination. Today was supposed to be the day of Purim. The day his 
family and others celebrated the feast of Esther, thanking God for 
saving the Jews from the evil Haman all those years ago. People were 
suppose to be dancing, laughing, singing . . . instead they marched. 
Children and infants cried. Men and women held each other close, unsure 
of what to do. Those on the edges tried to dodge the rifle butts of 
their German 'friends'.

"Magnus, I'm frightened . . ." the eight-year-old sniffed as she 
tightened her grip on his hand.

He looked down into her grey eyes. They were filled with so much fear. 
"It will be okay, Abby." He choked out the words, hoping she'd believe 
him.

"I want to go home," she whispered.

"We will soon. Just stay calm and hold my hand." Magnus managed to give 
her a weak smile. He looked away, squeezing her hand reassuringly. His 
blue eyes looked towards his parents who were just ahead of him. His 
father held his mother close. His shoulders hunched over, feet walking 
almost automatically. His mother's head laid on her husband's shoulder, 
her slim body sagging against his. Despair gripped their souls and 
seemed to seep off their bodies. Occasionally his mother would look 
back. Her grey eyes would always widen. Magnus wondered if he had ever 
seen such loss, such agony before. This woman couldn't possibly be his 
mother. His mother was always smiling, always happy. She was the one who 
made the best sweets in town-the ones the other children had always 
traded him for at school.

School, his head dropped down in sadness. He had always loved school, 
whether it was the usual school or his Torah lessons. Learning about new 
places and things had always been so interesting, so invigorating. But 
school had vanished as had childhood friends when the Germans came. He 
was no longer allowed to play with Alfie or Henry. He frowned.

Magnus looked up, gazing about at the people. He knew most of them. 
Little Ellie walked beside her mother. The six-year-old asked her many 
questions. "When will we go home?" "Where's daddy?" "Will Daddy be home 
when we return?" 

Magnus looked away. Her father had been taken away weeks ago with other 
men. No one had seen them since. Magnus sighed.

"Stop!"

The large mass of people halted. Magnus looked around. They were in the 
Koidanovo forest. He blinked. He hadn't remembered entering the forest. 
Abigail tugged on his hand. "Where are we?"

"The forest."

"I thought we were going home. I want--"

"Hush, Abby, I can't hear." Abigail bit her lip as she looked up at him.

"Shut up Juden Schweine1! Form small groups. Move! Los!"

Magnus tightened his grip on Abigail's hand and moved into his parents 
group. "Papa? What is happening?"

"I do not know. Do as they say. Everything will be fine."

Magnus nodded. He watched other groups walk off with Germans. He gave 
Abigail a brief smile. He thought he heard a scream but couldn't tell 
because of all of the noise. His parents and the others began to walk. 
HE pulled Abigail with him as he followed. He tried to see what was 
happening but couldn't see over people's heads.

"Stop! Strip blode Hunde2! Move! Los!" 

Magnus and others looked at the Germans bewildered. Men and women strip 
in front of each other. What was the purpose?

"Remove our clothes?"

"Why? What for?"

Rifle butts were the only answer. Magnus and the others quickly 
stripped, throwing their clothes and shoes into a pile. The group walked 
on. There were screams. Magnus tightened his grip on Abigail. He could 
finally see ahead. Little Ellie and her mother stood before a German 
mad. The German shot the two. Their bodies fell backwards. Magnus tried 
to scream but no sound emerged. 

"Oh God please no, not the children."

"Why? Why are you doing this?"

"Not my little one. He so small, what can he do to you?"

Magnus wanted to close his eyes, to run, to scream. He couldn't, his 
body wouldn't let him. He watched Mrs. Belsky hold out her infant son to 
the German. "Take me, but please spare him. He is so young--" she 
screamed as the German shot the child and then throw him in the pit.

Magnus watched as she and then the others were shot. Abigail cried, 
wrapping her arms around him. Then their father fell and their 
mother--their beautiful mother. The women who had cared for them, sung 
them lullabies, loved them. Magnus' eyes widened in horror. Abigail and 
him stood before the Germans. Abigail looked at the man and screamed, "I 
want to go home!"

Magnus felt her grip loosen and then no arms around him at all. "Why? We 
have done nothing." He yelled.

The German smiled as he fired the gun. Magnus fell backwards into the 
pit. His eyes closed. A body fell on top of him and then another and 
another. He wanted to die and join his parents and Abby in heaven. He 
began to feel as if he were being strangled, choking. He opened his eyes 
and pushed limbs and bodies away, climbing upwards. Somehow he had 
reached the top. He crawled from the pit, gasping for air.

He looked around, tears clouding his vision. Children ran about the 
fields crying for their parents. There were no Germans but he could see 
the pile of clothes and shoes. They would be back soon. Magnus ran to 
the pile grabbing clothing and quickly putting it on. A small girl was 
by him, trying to do the same.  He heard the sound of an engine. The 
Germans were coming back. The girl grabbed his hand. He dragged her and 
himself down the hill towards the river.

He had played here when he was younger. He knew a place he could hide. 
Instead if entering the water he pulled the girl with him into the tall 
grass. There was a hole in the hill here. Tall grass blocked its view. 
It had been the perfect place to hide during games because you only 
could find it if you knew where it was. The girl and him crawled into 
it. They covered their ears as the other children screamed as they were 
shot.

*						*					         *

Three Months Later . . .

Magnus held Dara's hand. The two of them had managed to make it back to 
the town without being caught. They had lived on the streets in the 
ghetto begging for food, stealing when they had to. Now the two of them 
and about 700 other Jews stood on the train platform. The Jewish Council 
had chosen them for relocation. They were going to work at an 
agricultural camp. 

The train wasn't what the Council had said it would be. There was just 
an engine, coal car, one passenger car and nine cattle wagons. Dara 
shuddered as she looked at the huge bars that locked the wagon door. She 
tightened her grip on Magnus and looked about the platform. There were 
so many people. All of them carried bundles unlike her and Magnus. Her 
eyes fell onto another little girl. The child held a rag doll in her 
arms and was talking cheerfully with her mother. Dara closed her eyes. 
She had once had a doll like that and a mother. But they had both 
vanished from her life months ago.

Magnus looked down at the five-year-old. As Dara looked up at him with 
her brown eyes he couldn't believe the pain and wisdom in her youthful 
eyes. He pulled her close as SS men walked towards the front. The wagon 
door was opened. "Eighty-five people to a wagon! Move!"

Dara and him followed an old couple into the first wagon. They moved to 
the back. Soon there were too many people to sit. Dara held onto Magnus 
tightly. Tears stained her face. It was so dark once they closed the 
heavy door. As the bar was clamped down to lock it Magnus felt Dara 
wince in pain. The train finally began to move. Slowly, dim light 
filters through the gaps in the wooden boards on the wall. Bursts of 
cold air seep through. Silence envelops the people.

*						*					          *

Three days pass. Magnus sighs. No food or water. The wagon's door had 
been opened once. The SS had asked for bodies to be thrown out. Their 
wagon had thrown out three. One dead body was still in the wagon. The 
women would not part with her son. Children cried for water, people 
moaned. Every once in awhile someone would need to use the communal pot 
to relieve them selves. 

Dara laid her head on Magnus' lap. She hadn't said a word since they 
boarded. He could feel her breathing though. Magnus talked little also. 
The people around him had been trying to find out where they were. All 
were hoping it was Austria but soon enough it was clear that they were 
in Poland heading to . . .

Magnus laid his head against the wall. The train stopped abruptly. 
Talking and crying ceased. The woman with the dead son cradled the boy 
in her arms, eyeing everyone angrily, daring them to take her child from 
her. Magnus looked out a small hole in the wall. He saw a sign in the 
distance and could make out one word: Auschwitz.

End of Part One







______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com