I never felt safe anywhere in the camp, but I no longer worried about the women in my barracks trying to harm me. We did our best to avoid those we didn't get along with, and stay close to the ones motivated us to get up in the morning. I didn't go looking for anyone to protect me. I didn't want anyone to put their life on the line for me.
After nearly a year in Aussichtslos, I was still doing the job of sorting through the discarded clothes of the dead. This wasn't a usual job to be given to a prisoner, it was just another move by my father to keep me out of sight. He kept me under the watchful eye of his most trusted guards who knew his dirty little secret.
Every day a large pile of clothes were stacked at the far end of the camp, close to one of the barbed wire fences. The stack of clothes sat outside the window of one of the SS offices so the guards could keep a watchful eye on me. The pile of clothes was near the railroad tracks as well, and I saw the train bring a new shipment of Jews almost every day. A large cattle train would pull up to the edge of Aussichtslos, they would open the side doors, and large groups of people would be shoveled out. They were separated into two or three lines, and then they would be marched into the camp where they would become a prisoner like the rest of us.
Each time was the same: I watched wives plead not to be separated from their husbands, husbands fight to stay with their wives, and I watched children scream to remain with their parents. I watched people fight to keep their families together, but no matter the amount of pleading, they never managed to stay together. I slowly learned to tune the screams and crying out until I learned to not watch altogether. It never ceased to devastate me when I noticed an item of clothing that I had seen on a man, woman, or child who had just come off the train.
One day as I was sorting through the clothes, I heard the sound of the train starting to pull up next to Aussichtslos. I paid little attention to it, I knew what would happen. I knew the rhythm of the train arriving, I knew the dark tune of desperation and life being ripped away as though their lives never truly mattered, to begin with. I hated watching as the train came slowly closer. I hoped that it would keep going, just once, I hoped it wouldn't stop. But every time it came to a halt, and every time a new group of victims were shoveled out like cattle.
This day was different, however. I was attempting to hum away the sound of gunshots and screaming, when suddenly I heard my name arise from the chaos and noise. I didn't look up at; first, others had my name, and I would have been crazy to assume that anyone would be calling for me. But then it happened again. Someone screamed my name, and it echoed and hit me like a blow to the chest. The voice that called to me sounded familiar, and I didn't want to believe it. I paused for a moment, I didn't look up until I heard it again, and then my eyes shot up from my work and I scanned through the large crowd of people gathered next to the fence. My eyes flitted from face to face, trying to understand who was calling to me. I wondered if I was going crazy until I saw him. I wondered if I was hallucinating or if I was somehow daydreaming.
My heart stopped.
My eyes went wide.
It was John.
He was standing in a crowd of people who hadn't been sorted through yet. Our eyes met, and for a long moment, we just kept staring at one another in horror and relief and disbelief and happiness all at the same time. He stood utterly still, and it felt as though the rest of the world began to move in slow motion. The chaos that surrounded us didn't stop, it just fell silent, and nothing else mattered. I moved closer to the fence, pretending to put something in one of the far baskets of belongings. I tried to look busy and not attract attention to myself.
John was standing by the dividing fence that separated him from the inside gate. I was so close, but I couldn't say anything to him. We just looked at one another in desperation, tears welled up in my eyes, and I couldn't believe he was there. Hoping it was just a hallucination, or a nightmare I could wake from, I tried to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat. John looked at me in a way I had never seen before: there was pity on his face. I looked hollow and broken, my hair was gone, and it must have seemed as though every single one of my bones were visible. He looked older. It had been nearly a year since I had seen him last. He looked much taller and yet weaker than he had once been. One of his eyes was bruised and bloody.
I wanted to rush to him to hide in his embrace, but instead, we stood far apart, unable to speak or move. One of the guards yelled for him to get back in line, as he shoved a pistol to the back of his head and dragged him back into line. I clung to the fence, trying not to lose sight of him until they separated him into a line with the rest of the men. He didn't seem to resist. I watched until I lost sight of him, and then I felt the rush of time sweep over me like an uncontrolled wave. John was out of my reach once again.
I couldn't cry out, I couldn't make my devastation known, it would only endanger us both. The earth beneath me was shaking, and my head spun. John had never been far from my thoughts, but I had been able to distance myself from him for his own protection. That changed in an instant when he once again was in my sphere. Everything changed for me at that moment, and it hurt me worse than anything I had experienced in that hell. My next move was uncertain, my next breath was not guaranteed, and yet none of that seemed to matter as long as I could protect John at any cost.
Days passed, and then weeks, then a month was gone, and another was met with as much uncertainty as the one before it. I lay in my small space in the barracks and wondered how John had ended up in Aussichtslos. I hoped and prayed for his safety, knowing his position was more volatile than most. I was sure my father knew of John's presence in the camp. In fact, I was reasonably sure that my father had gone to any lengths necessary to find him. He was already a target, and I wondered what he was doing every day that passed when I couldn't see or speak to him. I desperately tried to come up with a plan to see him, but I didn't know how I would get a message safely across the fence. Even if I did, I didn't know how or where we would be able to meet. But by some miraculous act of God, one of the women that slept near me handed me a small crumpled piece of paper one night. I looked at her with confusion, and then I looked down at the small note crumpled up in my hand. I smoothed out the small paper. It read:
Meet me at the far west fence
-J.
I was overwhelmed by the small note, how had John managed to send it? How had he gotten ahold of paper? I looked up at the woman who had handed it to me, searching wordlessly for answers.
"There are weak points in the fence that are easily moved to make room for a person to pass through. The guards have started getting lazy and no longer check for the weak spots. We have secured a safe place for short meetings. If you stay in the shadows of the buildings, you should be safe. Move slowly and be cautious, you should have about 20 minutes before someone comes looking for you, go now." The woman said as though she had done this many times before.
I made my way out of the barracks without question, she had been right, the guard that usually stood outside the barracks was fast asleep. I slipped quietly passed him. There were large towers on each corner of the camp where the SS guards would sit high above Aussichtslos, watching night and day. Usually, there were large spotlights that would shine down on the camp so they could spot and shoot whoever tried to escape. That night all the lights were off; the circuits must have frozen. It meant I didn't have much time before they were fixed, and the guards would be on the move again.
I moved as swiftly as possible, there didn't seem to be many guards on the grounds of the camp. When it got cold, the guards didn't like to aimlessly walk around late at night. Once everyone was inside and presumed to be asleep, they would go where it was warm. I made my way to the far west fence that was just a few steps away from the fence that separated the men from the women. I saw a dark figure standing in the shadow of one of the buildings close by, I couldn't see the face, so I stood still waiting for them to make a sudden movement. I couldn't risk assuming it was John. After a long moment, the figure seemed to see me hiding behind the corner of the building.
"Beth?" The figure whispered. All of a sudden, John appeared from the darkness stepping into the moonlight for only a second.
I moved out from behind the corner of the building, and we both stood still for a moment listening for danger. John then quickly moved over to me and wrapped me up in his arms as tears ran down my cheeks. I allowed myself to let go of all my emotions for just a few moments. John held me as tightly as he could. He then took my face, looked me over, and then he gently kissed me on the lips. I had missed his sweet, gentle kisses, I never thought I would be able to kiss him again. For a very small moment, I got to forget where I was. I took a small step back so I could look at him. His thick wavy brown hair had been shaven off, his sweet and young face looked older and worn, and he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. He still seemed relatively strong, which meant he could still work. That made him useful, which could keep him alive for a time, but I could tell he was tired. He no longer had that spark of life I always saw in his face when we were small children, and now he looked like a grown man who had seen far too much for his age. I placed my hand on the side of his cheek. He felt warm, which was strange, considering how cold it was outside.
"You're sick," I said with worry in my voice.
John took my hands in his and kissed my palm, "I'm alright. It's cold, and nothing I do seems to warm me up, I suppose a fever was my only option." John smiled, "If anyone should be concerned, it should be me, I feel like I can see every bone in your body." He looked me over.
I looked down at my sickly looking body and then back at John, "They don't believe in three meals a day here," I said, trying to match his calm.
John looked at me for a long moment, I could see the concern in his sweet face. I liked being cared for by someone again. It had been ages since someone cared about my well being, but I didn't want John to worry. He looked pale and sick, he was shivering, which was normal, but he felt hot to the touch.
"How did you get here, John? Why are you here?" I asked, knowing we had little time to talk.
John looked down at his feet as he had a habit of doing when he wanted to avoid answering a question. "After you and your mother were taken," he was clearly fighting away angry tears at the memory. It hit me like a truck remembering the Siegfried's untimely demise. "My mother and I tried to get to England to get to my father," he sounded ashamed, "I had to try to get my mother to safety, Beth." Clearly, the guilt had been eating away at him.
"Stop," I said, placing my hands on his cheeks, "I don't blame you," I reassured him. I would have run too, there was nothing for him to do for me.
"I wanted to come find you, I didn't know if you were alive or dead. I hoped and prayed for your safety Beth, I hoped you and your mother had escaped." His voice wavered slightly.
"John, please, there is nothing you could have done," I said, wiping away the tears he was fighting off so desperately.
"My father tried to set us up with some contacts he had left in Germany, but it just wasn't enough. They caught us at the border, they sent us to another camp, and we were there for a while." John seemed to drift off into his own mind remembering what had happened. "My mother died there," He said plainly, looking me in the eyes. Those simple words seemed to break him a little more.
"Oh, John," I said, wrapping him up into my arms and holding onto him as tightly as I could manage.
"Your father came," He said softly, as if waiting for my reaction.
"What?" I took a step back, "What do you mean?" I asked sternly.
"He came to the camp I was being held at, he was looking for me, Beth. Then his men took me, put me on another train, and brought me here," He answered, stiffening his already tense body.
I was speechless, I hadn't realized John had been that important to my father. In fact, I believed that my father would have been glad to have John as far away from me as possible. I wondered if perhaps he would use John to hurt me, or to try and win me back in some way.
"I didn't know," were the only words I could manage.
"I know," John answered sympathetically.
"I'm so sorry." I was breathless and shaking.
"Beth, I could never blame you," John said, taking me in his arms once again.
I rested my head on his shoulder and allowed myself to relax for a moment in his embrace, until suddenly, I realized we were nearly out of time. I did my best to pull myself together and say what I could in the little time I had left.
"Listen to me," I commanded, "Pretend to be strong even when you're weak, so they value you as a worker. Don't let anyone know you know me, especially the guards." I heard a distant noise and spun looking behind me. I gripped John tightly as though I were drowning and holding onto him for dear life. "Above all else...stay alive," I whispered into his ear as I held onto him.
"That rule goes for you too," He whispered into my ear, and he nuzzled his face into my neck affectionately.
"Go," I said urgently.
John kissed my head and then slipped back into the darkness without another word, as though he had been a ghost.
I stood there for a moment, not wanting to face the realities of life anymore. After a short moment, I collected myself and made my way back to the barracks as quickly and quietly as possible. I slipped out from behind one of the buildings, and started to walk down one of the long open spaces between two buildings. I stayed in the shadows, trying my best to go unseen. I moved cautiously and stayed close to the wall of the building. Then, all of a sudden, something caught my eye, it looked like a small flicker of light. I stopped and stood as still as possible, hoping and praying it was just my mind playing tricks on me. I looked closer at the shadow where I had seen the flicker of light, and in a moment, I noticed a figure standing in the darkness, and then I noticed another figure. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know whether I should try to run or just surrender. The tallest figure stepped into the moonlight. It was a tall young SS man, but he didn't look at me as though he had caught me, but as though I had caught him. The other figure was a man, but he was not a guard, he was a prisoner. I noticed they both held cigarettes, the SS guard held one, and the prisoner held the other. Then I realized the guard was smoking with the prisoner, and the man didn't seem scared of him at all. The prisoner acted as though the guard was his friend, which confused me but not enough to question it. We both stood in complete silence.
The guard looked as scared of me as I was of him, after a long moment, he whispered urgently, "Go, before you get caught!"
I was surprised by his words, but without a second thought, I ran as quickly as I could. When I was close enough to the barracks, I noticed the guard was no longer sitting outside asleep as he had been when I had left; at that moment, he was standing at full attention. I took a deep breath, not knowing what to do. There was no way I could slip past him. Then, all of a sudden, the guard I had seen smoking with the prisoner, appeared. He greeted the guard outside the barracks with a handshake and a smile. I watched him say something to him. I couldn't quite hear what he said, but before I knew it, they had switched places. The mysterious guard looked around as though making sure no one else was around, and then he seemed to spot me and gestured for me to get inside. I didn't know what else to do but to trust he wouldn't shoot me the second I stepped out from the shadows. I quickly moved to the door of the barracks, but before I went inside, I looked back at him.
He looked at me and gave me a small smile, but he didn't say anything to me, and I didn't say a word to him. I went inside quickly and slipped into the small space where I slept. I didn't know what to think. Why had the guard saved me? Why was he smoking with a prisoner? No guard did that. None of it made sense, but I did know I didn't appreciate him giving me a false sense of security.