פורומים » סיפור שכתבתי
כתבת סיפור למגירה? זה הזמן לשתף את קהילת הקוראים הישראלית ולקבל חוות דעת.
כתיבת הודעה חדשה בפורום סיפור שכתבתי
» נצפה 554 פעמים מאז תחילת הספירה.
-
לפני 14 שנים ו-11 חודשים כתבתי סיפור חיים, או ליתר דיוק, חלק ממנו, אולם מסיבות שיובהרו למי שיקרא, זה נכתב באנגלית. A.B.
The story of my life
Chapter one: Before and during the war.
My parents settled in Belgium after they left Trans-Sylvania Romania, around 1925. They got married and had four children. Their first one was a son, but he died before his first birthday. Then in 1932 my sister Denise was born, two years later it was me who made my first appearance in this world. It was only a few years later that people became aware, that it was the birth of a very special person, but let’s leave that for the moment. Four years later my younger brother Jacques was born. He was the only blond child in the family, so Denise and I used to tease him, saying that they made a mistake in the hospital, and changed him with another woman’s baby.
At that time we lived on Zurenborg Street. My parents earned their living from a small photo shop that they owned. One day Denise, convinced by a friend of her, sneaked into the shop, opened the hidden drawer behind the counter and stole some money.
Instead of going to school they went to the Luna-Park. They had lots of fun, and after they rode the horses of the merry-go-round and drove the colliding cars, they had still enough money, to buy some toys. One of our neighbors, who happened to be there, saw them and told our mother that she was surprised to meet her eight-year-old daughter alone in a place like that.
I don’t allow my children to go there by themselves, and they are older than your daughter, you have no idea what kind of suspicious people hang around in those places. She said.
When Denise came home, carrying her load of boxes, Ma and Pa met her at the door.
Where have you been? Asked Mom, trying to hide her anger.
At school, said Denise with an innocent look on her face.
And where are these toys from? Was what Dad wanted to know.
I got them from my friend, she said
A slap on her face was his reaction.
Don’t lie to me, how did you get them?
The same lie again from Denise. After she got a few more slaps on her face, it was I who began crying and yelling.
Stop beating her; she will never do that again. I promised, trying my best to protect her.
As punishment, we were both sent to the cellar, I guess that they sent Denise to the cellar, and I volunteered to join her.
The cellar served as laboratory and storeroom for the photo-shop. For us it was an opportunity for revenge. We took the guillotine that is used by photographers to trim the pictures, and systematically cut all the pictures in the middle. How our parents compensated their clients I don’t know, but it was the end of the photo-shop.
Then there is the story of how I opened my mind, or to be more specific, my head.
I liked all kind of sweets, jam was my favorite, so in order to keep me out of the jam jar, my parents put it on top of the a sideboard consisting of two pieces, the base with its two wooden doors, and on top of it a closet with glass doors containing all the precious porcelains and crystals. I kept looking at the jar up there, whishing that someday I will be tall enough to overcome that inaccessible obstacle, and lay my hands on the treasure.
2
One day I decided the time has come. I took a chair, climbed on top of the lower part, opened the glass doors, and using the glass shelves as ladder, made my way to the top. But it was to much for this fragile piece of furniture. The closet collapsed on top of me with an immense crash. The family treasure was smashed into tiny little pieces scattered all around the floor. In the middle of the debris I was laying covered with blood, mainly from a big deep wound on my forehead.
I had hardly recovered from this adventure when I was riding on my bicycle in the park, a woman came by, pushing a trolley right towards me, that is what we call meeting someone by accident, anyway I went down head first on the pavement and again I had a bleeding wound. Till today I have two scars on my forehead, one on each side.
It is now 1939. The situation in Germany is driving everybody crazy. The war is unavoidable. People are gathering food, grabbing anything they can lay their hands on. Dad has managed to purchase a few sacks of flour,
If you can make your own bread, you’ll never be hungry. He declared, while he was stacking the sacks in the sideboard in the parent’s bedroom.
Both our parents were at work. Denise and I had nothing in particular to do, so we decided to play a very special game. We were on vacation in Switzerland, and we went skiing, and playing in the snow, but it was summer, so what, we took the sacks of flour and spilled them all over the floor, the whole apartment became a Suisse ski-resort. We made a snowman, and threw snowballs at each other. We were tumbling down a snow slope when our parents came in. They certainly had very strong nerves, if they did not die of a stroke that day.
Our house was two stories high. We lived on the ground floor and on the top floor lived a German couple who had a lovely little daughter. I don’t remember her name even thou I was very much in love with her. (It is important to remind you that she was five years old and I was six.) However, Germany was our enemy now, and as hostility towards our neighbors grew they made arrangements to leave. The separation made my little friend and me very sad, I remember her saying, varum zind die loite zo beuze? (Why are the people so angry?) After they left, Denise and I went up to the attic, opened the mysterious door and discovered a fortune, the room was a children’s paradise, so many toys we have not seen in all our lives, all kinds of dolls, teddy bears, electric trains, we did not believe our eyes, and it was all ours now, we must be dreaming. But the happiness did not last long, a few days later the German army invaded Belgium, and we were on the road, escaping the approaching invaders, towards free England.
The plan was to reach Dunkirk and cross the channel by ferry or whatever would take us across. Dad managed to hire a truck, we took some of our belongings, and we began our journey to freedom. With us on the truck were two aunts their husbands and three children. It took us about five hours just to get out of Antwerp. On the roads thousands of people were pushing their way towards France. Finally we reached the main road, but the situation there was not better, the road was so crowded that the driver could hardly move at all. Then we ran out of gasoline. That was all our driver could take, with a warm blessing he sent us to hell. We took only what we could carry and joined the crowd, but it was impossible to keep the whole group together, so the men decided that it was wiser that each family should take care of its members, and so we did. We went on for a while when suddenly a German airplane flew over our heads and started firing.
3
Get off the road and lay down in the ditch, someone shouted.
In seconds we were lying on both sides of the road, waiting for the next attack, but the pilot was on his way back to Germany, he only wanted to get rid of his ammunition, so why not kill a few fugitives. We were happy that no one of us was hurt and we continued our journey, but in order to avoid future attacks by the brave German air force, we left the main road and continued through the fields. It was getting dark and we were all exhausted. We reached a farmhouse and dad knocked on the door. An elderly woman opened and asked what we wanted.
Can you please accommodate us for the night? Dad asked.
They let us sleep in the barn, but it was not so bad. They even offered us some hard-boiled eggs, but eggs were all we had eaten the last two days, and I was little aware of the situation.
What happened to all the tasty food that I like? Why can’t I have meat and what about chocolate? Only eggs and eggs, it’s disgusting. I complained.
The next day we reached the resort town Oostende, father managed to obtain a four-wheeled bicycle, on which we rode the rest of the way. After two more days we reached Dunkirk. Not a living soul was seen on the streets. Dad knocked on the door of one of the houses but there was no answer. He tried the handle and the door was open. We decided that the basement is the most protected area against the expected bombardment. Denise Jacky and myself, we slept cuddled under a heavy wooden table. Dad and Mom rested on two old armchairs. During the whole night we heard the whistling and the explosion of bombs, it sounded like the end of the world. In the morning we tried to get out but we could not open the front door, the house has collapsed and blocked the exit. We helped Dad remove the obstacle and managed to climb out to the street. The sight was disastrous; the whole town was in ruins. Not a single house remained intact. A few people could be seen wandering aimlessly amongst the rubble.
We had no time to spend. We took what was left of our belongings and moved on towards the port, hoping to find some kind of vessel, and indeed Dad managed to hire the services of a fisherman who agreed to take us across on his boat. As we were about to get on the boat, an order was given to all the civilians, to leave the port immediately, anything that could float on the water was needed to transfer the retreating British army back home. Churchill with his brilliant rhetoric described this disaster as a big victory.
While we were standing there near the port, waiting for Dad to decide, what to do next, we heard the firing and shelling of the approaching battle front. We had to find a shelter, so we ran back looking for the cellar that has saved our lives last night. We cuddled under the table, hoping that the next day something will turn out, but when we climbed out of the cellar the next morning, there were Germans all over the place and access to the port was forbidden. We had no choice but return home to Antwerp. All along the way we came across German tanks. Exhausted and hungry we were staring at these huge iron vehicles passing by. The children begged for food, and a few soldiers threw us some stale biscuits from their rations. In the outskirts of town, we crossed a site where the French tried to stop the advancing troops. Wounded soldiers were crying out for help, dead bodies were scattered all over the place, it must have been a terrible sight. But I was most troubled by a groaning wounded horse lying on its side; I couldn’t understand how people could hurt an innocent animal. I begged father to do something; you can’t leave him there suffering. I said, but of course there were more important issues at hand.
4
Life at first returned to its normal routine, we went back to school; Dad joined one of his brothers in the diamond business. We the children had very little knowledge about the situation of the Jews in Germany and in Poland. We were carelessly proceeding with our occupations. One of them was going to the movies, even thou I was less than seven years of age. It did not bother us that great parts of the public were German soldiers. Our heroes were Laurel & Hardy, Douglass Fairbanks, Red Skeleton, and Johnny Weiss-Muller as Tarzan of course. We used to watch at least two screenings of the same movie in a row. For the price of one ticket you could watch the same film from ten in the morning till ten at night. It was only on Saturday that the theatre closed at five in the afternoon. Unaware of the day Denise and I were sitting in the darkness in Cinema Lux, expecting for the screen to light up. After a while we became aware that we are all alone in the theater. It was pitch dark and we began to realize that we are locked in, and we will not be able to get out till the next day. Slowly I began to panic. Denise tried to reassure me, but she was so frightened herself that the sound of her voice only made it worse. Screaming and crying, we grasped our way towards the exit. Fortunately the door to the lobby was unlocked, the glass doors of the main entrance were locked and there was nobody in the building, but we could see people passing by. That was a bit of a comfort. We went to the door and banged on it and shouted until someone finally noticed that the two children behind the door are in some trouble. In the meantime a crowd gathered in front of the theater. Now we were like a couple of monkeys in the zoo. There were arguments amongst the spectators as to what we were doing there. Someone must have contacted the manager because after what seemed like ages he finally opened the door and we were free. It could be expected that this incident will keep us away from movie-theaters. Well it did not, on the contrary, we told everybody what an adventure we had, and how brave we were, and we went to the movies even more. Most of the films shown these days were German war films, and even thou we knew very well that they are the enemy; our heart was with the German heroes. That is to prove the power of the moving picture.
The Nazi regime was beginning to affect us. Restricting orders were issued concerning the Jews. We had to wear a yellow star, and were harassed by youngsters who enjoyed using the discriminative situation. Every day we heard stories about friends and family who have been beaten. At night I had terrible nightmares. Often it took me a long time to realize that it was just a dream. One night in my dream I saw my grandma lying dead on my mother’s bed. My parents, aunts and uncles were gathered around her. They were crying and praying and trying to find some words of consolation. I woke up and heard the same sounds like in my dream coming from my parent’s bedroom. I looked at Denise who just woke up.
I had a dream she said in my dream, grandma died.
We went to our parent’s bedroom, and there was grandma lying motionless on the bed, Dad tried to comfort Ma who was bitterly crying.
Why is Mama crying? I asked father.
Because your grandma is dead, he explained.
But we still have the other grandmother, haven’t we? That’s me and my logic.
Then the deportations began. Every day groups of people were loaded on trucks and taken away. The children were told that they are taken to labor camps. The Belgian police was very efficient and cooperative, with the Germans of course. One morning two policeman knocked on our door and took my father.
5
We believed that he would finish his work and return home, we did not understand why Ma is crying. Dad will make money in Germany, and when he’ll come back, we will be rich.
Mr. Conrad was a Christian friend of my parents. He was married to a Jewish woman, and he had a mistress named Marietta who lived in a nearby village named Boom. When he heard that our father has been deported to Germany, he suggested that the three of us Denise Jacky and I, should go into hiding. He convinced Marietta to take care of us till the danger was over. We were warned not to reveal our Jewish identity. Our family name was changed from Spitz to Delmont and we were brought to the Van-de-Mosselars, Who already gave shelter to three Jewish children. This family saved the lives of six Jewish children; it is needless to say that it was at the risk of their own life.
It did not take long to get accustomed to our new names and to life in the village. We were hardly aware of the terrors of war. School in Boom lasted till noon, after school we were free to play in the fields. We used to pick flowers, catch frogs and eels in the nearby lake, and do all kinds of foolish things; our favorite game was pushing a piece of straw in a frog’s ass and blowing into it till the frog inflated like a balloon. (I want to apologize to Green-peace, but we had no idea that animals had feelings at all.) We found pleasure even when British airplanes bombarded the region. We used to hide under a bridge, and after the bombing we would gather the stripes of silver paper that the airplanes used to drop as decoy against ground-fire. Sometimes we were lucky and found fragments of exploded bombs, they were like little sculptures, it was real fun, but we had to be careful because quite often they were still hot and more than once we burned our hands. We lived with the Van-De-Mosselars, nearly four years, we got so attached to them that we hardly remembered our parents. Then one day we heard somebody shouting,
The Americans are here.
We ran out to the street, and indeed, we saw military trucks stuffed with German soldiers, escaping from the Allies advancing tanks. Suddenly there were bullets flying all over the place. A few German soldiers opened machine-gun fire from a bunker. One of the tanks aimed its cannon, fired one single shell into the bunkers loophole and for us the war was over. It is still a surrealistic picture in my mind, all these people including children, standing on both sides of the street, watching as if it was a movie or something like that.
A few days later Mother came to take us home. We were playing in the field as usual, when Marietta came over and said that we had a visitor. We walked into the house and there stood a blond woman spreading her arms expecting to embrace us, but our mother had black hear, and I did not recognize her at first. When I finally did, we were all crying from happiness and sadness. We wanted to be with our mother of course, but we did not want to leave the family and the place where we had been so well for the last four years. On our way home mother told us that she had dyed her hair and taken a Christian name, actually it saved her life. From our whole family {father had eight brothers and one sister) only three of my father’s brothers survived. Two uncles, one aunt and their families have not been murdered by the Nazis; one brother lived in Palestine (it was not called Israel yet) and the other one in South Africa. The sister and her family, escaped to Switzerland.
6
Ma lived in a two rooms apartment in Brussels, Denise and Ma slept in a queen size bed in one room, Jacky and I shared the sofa in the living room. It was a cold winter that year and we had no heating system, fortunately our mother was exceptionally beautiful, no wonder that George, a young British soldier, had a crush on her, and his way to show his affection was by taking care of her children. Beside the cans of corned beef that he brought with him every time he came over, he bought us a small oven that burned coal and produced enough heat to warm up one side of your body, so one had to choose what he preferred, a burning face and a frozen ass, or the other way around. But it was better than nothing. I can imagine what Ma had to pay in return for his favors. (Years later I learned that there are no free meals, but in those circumstances we were very grateful) A few weeks later George’s regiment was transferred to another location it has to be mentioned that the war was not over, and Hitler still promised victory to his army, he even sent quite a few V-1 rockets flying over Belgium, but they were mainly aimed at Britain, and only occasionally fell elsewhere.
Life was very hard those days, and without George and his rations Ma was unable to take care of the three of us, she sent Jacky and me to an orphanage, but there it was even worse, I played the role of Oliver Twist, but here it was in reality. I was constantly hungry, Jacky used to pee in his bed and I was forced to wash his sheets in the freezing cold. We were beaten for even the slightest misbehavior. When mother came to visit, we cried so bitterly that she took us back home.
The Belgian welfare office issued an appeal for volunteers to take children whose parents had difficulties caring for them, and keep them till the parents were reestablished. Denise was sent to a convent, Jacky went to a small village named Otigny, and I kissed Ma good by and stepped on the train on my way to Maldegem. I looked out of the window at my mother standing on the platform, growing smaller as the train drove of. I knew that I will not see her again, my father did not return from Germany, he probably has started a new life there with a new wife and children, and now my mother is sending me away. {Two years later I was told that he was sent to the gas chambers in Auschwitz} The train stopped, one of the social workers took me by the hand and we got off the train.
הוסף תגובה | קישור ישיר להודעה-
לפני 14 שנים ו-11 חודשים לa/b בהחלט כתבת היטב ונוגע בלבבות,אולי תעלה על הכתב ותפיק ספר עבור הדורות הבאים וינסטון (ל"ת)
-
