Chapter 20 Section 20
As if everything just now had never happened, those officers began to give orders in different languages to different groups of people.An Iron Guard lieutenant stood in front of our small group (there were probably two hundred Romanians) announcing instructions for the next leg of our journey.
I listened intently to what he had to say, for fear of disobeying any order and angering the Gestapo.
"The train will arrive shortly and take you to Krakow, from where you will be transferred to your respective camps for resettlement," the lieutenant announced. "Keep safe your papers, which are proof of your final destination." .Sorry to tell you that this trip will not be very pleasant, because the space in the car is limited, and the distance is very long. I hope you will cooperate with us quietly and orderly during this extraordinary time. Women and children will be separated from men on the road."
The adjutant raised a hand to suppress the murmur of disapproval.
"Quiet! You will travel separately, the women and children in one train and the men in the other. This is for your convenience, so that you do not have to share the limited sanitation facilities, that's all. The sooner you reach the camp , the sooner you can reunite with your family. There are still hot baths, clean clothes and hot soup waiting for you.”
Hearing this, the crowd let out a murmur of relief.Someone asked: "So how long will it take on the road?"
The Iron Guards officer shrugged coldly, "Please don't ask questions. You will be given chalk later, please write your names on your respective luggage. These luggage will also be transported separately, in order to ease your burden." Travel burden. After marking it, hand it in here, and return it when you arrive at your destination.”
Station workers came up to us and handed out deformed chalk tips.I took one and scrawled our last names meticulously on the side of the case: Pasculata.At this moment, my mother knelt down beside me and said to me, "Anka, get out my diary, I must take it with me."
I know how important that diary is to my mother, so I quickly opened the lid of the box and took out the precious diary. Just after doing this, a platform staff grabbed the hemp rope handle of the box , to drag it away.
"Wait a minute!" I cried, locking the lid of the box securely, lest the little belongings should be lost on the way.It was bad enough not being able to take our luggage with us, because we already had nothing but those things.As if responding to my concerns, I heard an angry voice protesting against the Iron Guard officer behind me.
"What if they get lost?" a man with a flushed complexion exclaimed angrily, with one foot firmly planted on his suitcase, "here is all my belongings, my most precious personal belongings .I'm going to take this suitcase with me."
The Iron Guard lieutenant turned to the man and hurled insults at him, warning him to take his feet off the box immediately and obey orders.His use of words was so rude that I could only skim over the profanity and briefly summarize the conversation he had with the man.The man standing behind me refused to give in easily, angrily defying the officer's authority.
When he was arguing, my mother reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me behind the crowd and away from the two conflicting people.I followed my mother obediently, and couldn't help being fascinated by the fierce quarrel a few meters away.
"You're a traitor," I heard the man say, with loathing in his voice. "You're wearing our country's uniform and doing the same things as these . . . brutes."
"Don't challenge my patience, old man," the officer warned, looking around anxiously. "I'm just following orders."
"Orders? These orders come from those demonic incarnations!"
The lieutenant looked bewildered. "Quiet, you stupid bastard, just do as I tell you." He glanced around and saw the Gestapo's eyes rest on him.He lowered his voice: "Do you understand, old man? I can't help myself just like you."
The man who resisted was even louder: "I fully understand. You are a traitor! You are working together with this group of evil and dirty animals, just to save your cowardly dog's life!"
"Shut up!" the lieutenant yelled, angrily drawing the pistol from the holster: "Quiet me, or I'll shoot!"
As he drew his weapon, the station fell silent again.Mom pulled me back desperately, and wrapped Nikolai even tighter with the coat.She whispered urgently to me to look away, but I couldn't.
The emotion in the man's voice, even his phrasing, sounded strangely familiar.I realized that those words of treason and cowardice were the same words my father had uttered when he quarreled with the Iron Guard officer on Mejdia's doorstep.Baba was dead a week later, shot by firing squad for provoking the authority of the Iron Guard and their Nazi superiors.I wanted to go to that man, to calm him down, to remind him, to tell him what happened to his dad, but fear held me in place and I couldn't take a step out.
The people around all avoided in fear, and the man stood there unrelentingly confronting the officer.All attention in the station was now on what he had to say.His wife was begging him to back down, and their daughter, only a little younger than me, was crying hysterically as her mother tried to plead with her husband while comforting her.
"Georgy, please, don't do this! For God's sake, stop talking! Just do what they say. The box doesn't matter. It doesn't matter whether it's there or not."
Even if the man named Georgi heard his wife's words, he turned a deaf ear to them and stood stubbornly in front of the lieutenant of the Iron Guard.Two other men surrounded the wife and daughter, pulling them away little by little.The woman resisted, and the little girl screamed loudly.
Now Georgi and the Iron Guard officer stood face to face, one with a gun in his hand, arrogant, the other unarmed, but bravely and foolishly resisting.A Gestapo strode up to the two of them. The lieutenant turned around, raised his arms, stomped his feet, and gave a Nazi military salute.
The recalcitrant Georgy spat angrily at his feet: "Traitor! I am ashamed to admit that you are a compatriot of my country!"
Gestapo officers ignored him. "Are you in trouble, Monsieur Lieutenant?" he asked in broken Romanian.
"This man refuses to put his suitcase with other people's luggage." The Iron Guard officer responded, still pointing his gun at the man hesitantly.
The Nazi cast a contemptuous glance at Georgi, then turned to the Iron Guard officer and shrugged nonchalantly.
"Then kill him."
As soon as the order was given, the crowd gasped and the wives screamed, begging their husbands to apologize and obey them.My mother pulled me and asked me to avoid my eyes, but I couldn't help it.My eyes were like being attracted by a magnet, fixed on the intense scene.
"He won't shoot," Georgi said quietly and confidently. "We are all Romanians. He won't shoot his own people, even though he may be a traitor."
The lieutenant lost all color on his face, his forehead was sweating, and his hand holding the gun was visibly trembling.
The Gestapo officer smiled. "This is your chance to prove him wrong, Mr. Lieutenant. Shoot him, now. I order you." He raised his voice. "shot."
The Iron Guard officer stood like a statue, the expression on his face changing from arrogance to terror.The Gestapo suddenly drew his pistol and put it on the lieutenant's head.
"Kill him, Mr. Lieutenant. Or I'll kill you."
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Notes: