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| Warsaw Ghetto wall under construction |
Early one morning at the beginning of April, not sure if I was still asleep or already wakened by a ray of morning sunlight shining through the curtain, I felt someone's warm hand on my forehead and heard these quietly-spoken words: "Good-morning, Lala. Sssh...keep quiet because it's still early and everyone's asleep."
I hear Jos's words, recognise his voice. I open my eyes: it is, indeed, he. He is wearing a dressing gown which he is clutching at the neck and he speaks quickly: "Get up, Lala. I'll show you something. But don't get frightened. It's not good news."
My heart missed a beat from fear because I thought that it was something concerning the doctor, his daddy. But no. Jos explains: "Do you know that they are fencing us in?"
"Who? How? Where?" - I ask. I cannot take in what this kind boy is telling me. He turns to the window and urges me in a subdued voice, "Put on your dressing gown, slow-coach! If all girls are like this I will never get married when I grow up. Quick, come out on the balcony and I'll show you what the Germans are planning to build. They've brought bricks, cement, even broken glass from thick bottles. They're waiting for prisoner-workers to be brought to start building a wall. Maybe they want to brick us in alive?"
"I know you're not a stupid girl," Josek continued, "but have you not thought how, once we're bricked in, you'll get through the wall to school?"
I threw a dressing gown over my pajamas and, excited by what Jos told me, simply not believing it was possible, I opened the balcony door in my room and we went out together.
Fact! What Jos said a moment ago was true! A trench was already being dug for the wall's foundations, dividing Pawia St. from Okopowa St. German gendarmes surrounded working prisoners and continually urged them on with their shouts: "Schnell, schnell, Schweine banditen!"
I pulled Josek back indoors. I preferred not to stand on the balcony since our house was only the third along from Okopowa St. Jos laughed with childish glee and said, "Don't worry, Lala! We'll manage. You'll get through to school. We'll fasten a long line from the balcony and you'll swing across the wall like a monkey in the jungle. Don't you think that's funny?"
Not at all amused by his words, I asked, "Just the same, how do you know that it will be a wall, and a high one at that - and not, for example, some sort of entrance gate?"
He reacted quickly, "Oh, you women and girls! You never read the right sort of newspapers!"
It was true. Recently I had fallen behind in that respect and did not read all the conspiratorial papers which Josek brought home. I was studying very hard at the time. I thought for a moment, wondering why the Germans were doing this.
Why should they close the exit into Okopwa St., which is on the tram route and through which it is nearer to the city centre and to Mokotow - districts with which we have such close ties?
There had been a lot of talk about the Germans creating a Jewish district. But this had already been created in principle. It existed in fact, created by all the dispossessed people who for some time now settled nowhere else but particularly here. But what is the wall for? I can't begin to guess. Jos's voice broke into my thoughts: "What d'you think, Lala? Should we tell your Papa, our Mamas, everyone, that they want to wall us in? And who'll tell them - you or I?"
In order to distract him I left this task to Josek. He could announce the "important event" which he himself discovered. I had not realised, however, what feelings tumbled about in this boy's tender heart. That I would cause him sadness and pain by letting him do this. I felt terrible - and awfully sorry - when he threw his arms around my neck and burst into tears like a small child, sobbing.
"Do I really have to carry all the heaviest burdens in my Papa's place? How am I to explain to all of them why these vile Krauts are doing this? Perhaps it is only so that children can't get out onto the Skra playing fields? Tell me, tell me!" he begged, "will they bury all of us alive? Perhaps they have buried my Daddy alive somewhere, too?"
Although my heart howled with pain, I tried to explain as best I could that it was bound to be some sort of security measure. Because, in fact, there are very many children on Pawia St. now - as he knows himself - what with these new arrivals constantly being pushed into our "Jewish" district. And the children not only play in the courtyards of the houses where they live, but also in the street. And Okopowa St. is very busy at the moment with trams and German cars, so perhaps that is why.
I did not know myself what to think about it. Why this fencing in?
Jos calmed down, wiped his eyes with my handkerchief and said, "We will see whose ideas are right. Yours -- older than I and a high school student -- or mine, an elementary school kid."
We decided between us, however, not to create panic in the house. We would not tell anyone apart from my parents until they see for themselves.
After everyone was up our Caretaker, Mr. Duszak, rushed in to Papa announcing this most disturbing news regarding the raising of the wall. So near to us, being erected quickly and efficiently by prisoners. When all the residents ran out onto the balconies the wall was already 1 1/2 metres high and the work was still continuing. Everyone began to worry immediately. Only Sulenka maintained that it was being put up for the children so they would have somewhere to play instead of a garden.
When all the residents went back inside, frightened by this sight, Papa called a men's conference in the study. I cannot say what was discussed because I was not there. But Papa emerged very deep in thought and very, very worried. It could be said that he looked as if he was suffering terribly. Dr. Ari Frenkiel, on the other hand, gave me his kindly, sensitive and pleasant smile. Yet he seemed sad at the same time and his eyes were glazed over.
Josek was fidgeting in the hall. When Papa left the study he ran up to him and hung round his neck, hugging him - but did not cry. I heard him say to Papa, "I am sorry, doctor. I was the first to see that wall and did not tell you. I didn't want to worry you. Lala and I did it for you and for everyone. That's right, isn't it? You're not angry with me?"
Papa assured him that he wasn't angry. He hugged Jos to his breast and answered, "It is I who thank you, dear boy, for saving me from that sight and experience until after breakfast, not before. Cheerio, Jos. See you tonight!"
Papa hugged Josek, then me, and went out. He seemed somewhat stooped to me and he did not say goodbye, as was his normal custom, to anyone.
I ran out onto the balcony to see which way he would go because I was afraid that he might argue with a German gendarme to let him pass through the still un-completed side of the wall into Okopowa St.
My presentiment was correct. It was much further to go the other way , up to Smocza St., to catch his tram. So he struck out straight from the gateway in the direction of Okopowa St. Germans from the Wehrmacht stood on guard there by the unfinished wall.
I was paralysed but watched what would happen. I saw Papa pull out his identity card from work, go up to a gendarme and push it almost under his nose, asking in German -- which he knew fluently, both written and spoken, "What kind of a garden are you putting up? That for the children?"
The gendarme bristled and shouted, "Weg, weg, Jude!"
Papa pushed the card right under his eyes and asked, "Can't you see, oaf, that I am employed under your protection? And d'you think that a Jew isn't human? He is human just like you."
The German looked sideways at Papa, took the card in his paw, examined it on all sides, then let him pass through. But, furious, he yelled after him: "But you'll come back that way," indicating the direction of the prison - "you Jewish mange! You swine!"
Having, like other Warsovians, returned to Warsaw, our good friend, Mrs. Maria Majewska, had opened a stall on the corner of Pawia and Okopowa selling sweets, newspapers, fruit and, secretly, food items. She even had excellent hot dogs. I used to go there occasionally with Papa for those hot dogs. Sometimes, after he came home, the children of Dr. and Mrs. Salinger came with us. And whenever we passed by the stall we greeted each other or stopped to have a few words with her.
Watching Papa now from the balcony, I saw him pass behind that stall and cross the small corner square, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief. I knew that he was crying because of that German's crude name calling.
Papa returned later than usual. Although Freda had kept a hot meal in the oven for him, he said that he wouldn't eat - wasn't hungry. He apologised for not phoning that he would be late. (Since the trams had been re-activated the telephone also functioned.) Papa told Freda to give his portion of food to the children.
Then he shut himself in the study with Mama and Irma.
Mrs. Irma's eyes were moist and misty when they came out. Mama seemed calm and controlled, but traces of tears could be seen on her face also. She went straight to another part of the house to give instructions to the staff. Papa then told us that the three-storey high wall with no exits had not only been erected here, but also in other places. Identical walls had gone up across Swietokrzyska St., Zlota St. and Freta St. Building had also commenced at Nalewki, near Smocza St.
This brought about the decision that Papa would leave us and move in with friends because it would be better that way. That was what Mama told me. I am to be in contact with him together with Mama, but only occasionally and on neutral ground, not here. That would be best for all of us.
On hearing this news everyone became even more despondent.
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