The Night We Saw Together (eBook)

On the Train East, 1937

Jacob woke up in a cold sweat. It dripped from his forehead into his eyes, soaking his undershirt. He rubbed his eyes. Having only turned thirteen several months ago, Jacob had never dreamed his family would flee Poland, the country that gave him birth and raised him. He widened his eyes to focus and sat up a bit so that his back was not resting anymore against Henryk’s shoulder. Henryk had dozed off with his back against the compartment’s wall. The bridge of his nose was bandaged with bloodstained gauze, which had now turned a dark shade of purple. The train moved mechanically, accompanied by a resonant clanking from beneath where they sat. Mala slept uneasily beside Henryk. She also constantly shifted the position of her head against the metallic wall. Mala’s eyes remained closed, brows knit, her hands cradling Eliza’s thin, frail body, clutching the child’s shoulders and legs tightly. Eliza looked even smaller than her less than six years, and her pale skin and body shuddered with a racking cough. Eliza’s dark, curly bangs were saturated with perspiration that dripped continuously to the floor like raindrops. Jacob was almost certain that his sister was having the same nightmare. He took out his handkerchief and gently dabbed at her face. Like their family, dozens of others were packed into the dark, insulated space. Parents were holding their children in their arms, and younger children were leaning wearily on their elder siblings, with senior members of the family huddled around. The only ventilation came from two windows only slightly larger than a lamp and high up on the compartment walls. Outside, the storm raged. Endless snowflakes swayed with the wind under an obscure sky. Not even the train’s blaring whistle or the metallic jangling of its wheels could keep these passengers’ days-old fatigue at bay. Jacob’s eyelids felt like they were made of cast iron. He could no longer stay awake, even if he promised himself to do so.

•••

It had begun with a frenzied banging on the front door that broke the midnight’s silence. Jacob sat up in his bed at his family’s home in the suburbs of Warsaw. He held his breath, listening carefully to divine if it really was someone knocking on their door, since he had no memory of anyone daring to pound on the school principal’s door in this fashion before. After a brief interval of silence, the banging resumed. He jumped out of bed and scurried toward the other side of the room to wake up Eliza.

“What happened, Jacob?” Eliza asked, rubbing her eyes.

Jacob put his forefinger to his lips. Then he turned toward the door with Eliza behind him and opened it just enough to peek outside.

The knocking had turned into a persistent striking. As Henryk turned on the light in the lobby and loosened the bolt, the door was pushed open with great force as if those at the door were planning to inflict violence. It struck Henryk’s face, breaking his nose, from which blood gushed and stained his pajamas, a few drops even splashing on the floor. About five armed men in police uniform instantly circled him. One man nodded to the other soldiers. Two of them stepped forward, grabbed Henryk from both sides, and started dragging him to the front door, while the other two walked into the house to check all the rooms. Henryk protested frantically, wriggling his shoulders and trying to break free.

Mala came out from the bedroom and bustled toward the intruders, shouting, “Where are you taking my husband? What has he done?”

The soldiers didn’t reply. Henryk was almost at the door, and Mala lunged to stop the policemen before they could leave the house. Her outstretched hand was inches away from her husband’s before she slipped and fell to the floor.

Mala watched Henryk and the two soldiers disappear through the doorway. One hand pressed against the closed door as she struggled to get up. Her knees hurt badly. The kids! She limped forward; lifting her head in the direction of the children’s bedroom she yelled, warning them in Hebrew. “Don’t come out, children!”

Witnessing everything from behind the door, Jacob slammed it, quickly yanking Eliza’s hand, and they both slid under the bed. Jacob felt his heart racing as the footsteps began to approach the door. Eliza was trembling next to him. “I’m scared, Jacob,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry. Nobody is going to find us.” Jacob intentionally deepened his voice in an effort to comfort himself, but the words tumbling out were a little shaky.

The footsteps halted in front of the bedroom door. The door was pushed open, and under the diffused light from the lobby the children could see a soldier’s boots linger for a moment. Then the boots marched away, their menacing thuds echoing throughout the room, when suddenly the soldier lowered his rifle, letting the butt hit the floor loudly. Jacob covered Eliza’s eyes with his hand. He closed his own eyes too.

•••

When Jacob opened his eyes, it was about noon. Henryk and Eliza were gone. Mala was the same way she had been when he drifted off. Her eyes were closed, her fingers intertwined rigidly, and her mouth moving anxiously with tears streaming down her cheek. Jacob knew his mom was praying. This was only the third time he had seen her pray so fervently. The first occasion was when he was five and had woken up from a night of delirious fever because of smallpox. As he lay in a murky-conscious state, Mala had been praying with tearful eyes beside his bed. The second time was when Henryk was taken by the police, and during Henryk’s incarceration of about four weeks, Mala had prayed every night. They exhausted all their possible connections trying to get him out of prison, at the expense of the family fortune and with the outcome of losing their house and Henryk resigning his post publicly. He was sent back home with an untended nose. For the next few weeks the family drained their remaining savings to prepare to leave Poland for Shanghai, China, one of the best among the worst places left in the world still accepting Jews. Now Jacob was watching his mom’s devoted, sullen, and tear-streaked face a third time. He took out his handkerchief and dried her tears carefully. Eyes swollen and red, Mala stared at him.

“Your sister has a high fever since last night. Your dad’s taken her to a doctor,” Mala spoke, barely audible.

Jacob tried to steady his gaze and meet Mala’s weakened eyes. “I’m sure Eliza will be fine. God will look after her.”

Mala nodded. “I believe he will.”

A few hours later, Henryk came back in a hurry, holding Eliza in his arms. His face was tense with anxiety, the gauze that wrapped his nose soaked with sweat. Eliza looked even paler and weaker. Turning immediately to his son, Henryk said in a shaky voice, “Go fetch some water for your sister, Jacob. Hurry!”

Jacob got up abruptly and exited the compartment. Henryk sat on the floor slowly, as if to not wake his daughter sleeping against his chest, and now finally his eyes met Mala’s questioning gaze.

Henryk clenched his teeth and declared, “No one could make an accurate diagnosis. No proper medical instruments, since nobody cared to bring them for a medical investigation. But according to her symptoms, at least three doctors out of the five I went to assume she has typhoid.”

“My God.” Mala’s voice had a quaver.

Henryk shook his head uncertainly. “If it really is typhoid, she needs antibiotic injections and to be placed in a hospital, but all I could get for her now is two aspirin pills for the fever.”

“What should we do, then? They say Shanghai is still two days away!”

“We cut the pills into halves, one half for the day, the other for the night. If we can keep her fever down we gain more time.”

“What if it doesn’t work, Henryk? What if it’s not typhoid?”

Henryk sighed. “Then we trust in God, Mala, if this is His will.”

Mala could not control her rapidly filling eyes.

For the next few days, the Koprowski family were busy keeping Eliza alive. Miraculously, despite limited food and water and only four halves of aspirin, she was stable, even though still feverish.

•••

As the train arrived in Shanghai, the momentary respite from persecution wasn’t enough to give the Koprowskis the luxury of enjoying the sights of the new city. They looked in every corner of the station unsuccessfully, hoping to find a hospital or a clinic. With the Japanese army having seized the city only a few months before, Jews from Russia and other parts of Europe were continuously thronging the station. Japanese military officials or armed soldiers, or European police officers had set up multiple checkpoints. Mala and Jacob waited in a long line for registration while Henryk, still holding Eliza, made his way to a nearby Japanese soldier. The soldier didn’t look at him, stolidly pointing to an unshaven British police officer in the distance. The overworked officer barely glanced at Henryk as he continued writing on the refugee registration sheet.

“No, there is nothing around here. The nearest hospital is at least three miles away, and we can’t spare a vehicle for you,” he said with a stern look in his bloodshot eyes.

“Please, officer. My daughter is dying!” Henryk pleaded.

“You have no idea how many deaths have happened around here every day since the Sino–Japanese war broke out.” The officer pointed to the street corner,...