Chapter 58 Section fifty-eight

When the call to get up sounds, the light of dawn is still struggling to drive the darkness away.I heard commotion from the hut above me, and a group of soldiers approaching in the distance came to this barracks and the adjoining barracks, opened the locked doors, and gave orders in rough German.After a while, the square in front of the barracks was in chaos, and the laborers—all of them men—were moving across the open space to use the public toilets. We finally came to the area where the workers live, which made me breathe a sigh of relief, but my worry has become a reality. The camp is indeed managed in isolation. There are no women or children here. I worry about our safety. Feeling worried.

I had hoped to mix the three of us among the detainees so we could move freely and look for clues about Mom.However, it's all grown men here, so it looks like I'll have to rethink this plan. Before I had time to think about other ways, I heard a sharp whistle, and suddenly everyone ran towards the center of the square, standing in line according to the established position, and if they moved slower, they would be poked by the end of the soldier's rifle beaten, or flogged by men with prisoners' heads on their sleeves. When we watched these people line up like students in an assembly, count their heads, and listen to the tasks of the day, I found that they were all in poor health, looked malnourished, and some were even skinny.And right in front of my eyes, as if to confirm my worst fear, a worker standing in the outermost row staggered and fell to the ground, breathing heavily and weak.

Two or three people standing beside him immediately stepped forward to help, but were driven away by two prisoners.They lashed at the Samaritans with whips in their hands, and drove them away from the fallen workers.The scene that followed was painfully reminiscent of what happened to Ilo at the Bucharest station, as one of the prison chiefs started kicking the fallen worker and screaming at him, and I knew he wasn't talking about Poland language is not German. Suddenly, a gunshot rang through the camp, and everything fell silent.Two prisoners stood their heads upright to greet an approaching Nazi officer.All the workers collectively turned to the front and stood obediently without looking sideways. At this time, they didn't even dare to cast a sympathetic look at the comrade who fell on the ground.

I grabbed Nicholas and Ilo, buried their heads in my arms, and made up my mind not to let them see the scene I expected.But I couldn't take my eyes off it.Even though I knew how this situation would end, I was still firmly grasped by a morbid attraction. I watched intently, trying to understand the relationship between the prisoner leader and the German officer who was rudely reprimanding them at this time. dialogue. Both prisoners pointed their heads accusingly at the fallen man.And the officer stopped throwing words, directly took out his pistol, shot the fallen worker in the back of the head, then turned around and left.The blood of the victim was still gurgling out, and one of the prisoners called two people from the line to drag his body away.

Suddenly another whistle sounded, and the assembled team rioted again. The workers ran to their barracks, and after a while, they came out with enamel cups and bowls. I knew it was time to put food away. We hadn't eaten in two days, and despite my fears, I knew I had to find a way to take advantage of this opportunity.I repeatedly asked Nicholas and Ilo to stay where they were, and crawled to the end of the barracks floor to survey the situation. I realized that my best hope was to sneak into the house and meet the workers when they returned. try your luck. It was too late to consider the risks of doing so.I saw the timing and acted immediately. After the last person hurried out of the barracks, I quickly got up and rushed into the gate, and then rushed to a window to make sure I was not found.

Peering cautiously out, I saw people pick up meager rations from makeshift dining cars, gobble them up in the blink of an eye, throw the enamel bowls into a box, and turn back to the barracks where I waited. Realizing that I would soon be discovered, I panicked.I looked around the barracks anxiously, and got under a bed the moment the door opened. When the workers walked into the room quietly one after another, I was so nervous that I couldn't breathe.The prisoner head shouted an order in a language I couldn't understand, then turned and left.This was the first time I realized that these people were not Germans, they were also detainees here, just promoted to a higher status.

As soon as the door was closed, whispered discussions in various languages ​​rang out in the room.My heart jumped with excitement when I made out Romanian from it. From my hiding place, I could see these men putting on their boots and getting ready for the day, while I focused on finding Romanian-speakers among them.Inadvertently, I found that one of them was sitting on the bed about one meter away from me, so I quietly moved my body to a favorable position so as to attract his attention at the right time. Suddenly, the workers fastened their boots and all got up and walked towards the door.

At this point I threw all my precautions to the back of my mind, seized the opportunity, and hissed loudly, "Friend, please help me!" I held my breath, and a dozen people turned around at the same time. They never imagined that they would hear a young girl's voice coming from under a bunk. Under their suspicious stares, I mustered up the courage to slowly poke my head out from under the bed, looking at them with begging eyes, while searching for suitable words to explain my predicament. "Please, we need your help." The Romanian stared at me incredulously, while the others couldn't understand what I was saying and talked to each other in intense tones.Finally, the person I was looking at spoke.

"Son, what are you doing here? Are you trying to kill us all? What a fool are you doing!" Emotions trumped reason. I crawled out from under the bunk and rushed towards him, only begging for mercy. Tears rolled down my eyes, and I tried to speak coherently. "Please, we are tired and hungry. We came to find our mother, who was sent here from Mejdiya to work. We found it with difficulty, and now we..." "Mejdia?" A voice came from behind, "Anka?" The moment I heard my name, I stopped talking.The voice was familiar, but my confused mind couldn't reconcile it with someone I knew.I turned to face the owner of the voice, who stared at me with the same disbelief written on his face.

He said again, "Anka? My God, Anka, is that really you?" I carefully examined this face, this person, for a long time, trying to find a familiar shadow from this skinny figure calling my name.His skin was stretched like a thin layer of paper, and the bones underneath seemed to stick out; his hair was thin, his eyes were hollow, and his back was bent. But I still recognized him. From this haggard and twisted figure, I recognized Maxim's appearance.My dear friend Raisa's father, Maxim.