Munich, September 1939.
Even looking out the window seems too risky, my parents don't even dare to contact our own family anymore, they don't dare anything. My brother has nightmare after nightmare, and so do I. Hitler has decided to expel all Jews from their personal belongings, we're packing our things to leave, but we don't even know where. I just have the feeling that I will never see my house again, so it's not just a goodbye, but a farewell to the house of our childhood, where happiness still lived just a few months earlier.All men, starting from 18 years old, had to go to the front. I kept thinking about Heinrich, about what he was doing at that moment, and especially what he was feeling, because he was going to war and you never know what the future holds. I still feel sad about closing that door, about not having savored that moment before all this. But he had hurt me; I felt as if being Jewish was a problem for him even without really being the case, and in the heat of anger, I had answered harshly.
—Ruth, where is your star?—Right here, don't worry.
The look of my father towards the house broke my heart.—Darling, we have to go, said my mother, grabbing his hand.
We don't know where we're going, we follow the crowd, we follow our own kind. I have never lived with such a fear, a fear so strong that you feel your heart beating as if it were the last time you'll take a breath. I feared for my brother, my parents, for Heinrich, for myself.
Days later.We walk without stopping, almost without drinking or eating. I don't even know where we're going but all I want is to go back home, to my house, to my bed. I can't take this anymore. Some of us tried to leave the ranks, to escape somehow, but they were shot before even reaching a few meters. Why are we living through all this? What did we do to deserve it? And then it's not only the Jews who should be blamed for some ghostly responsibilities they put on our heads; even the pure-blooded Germans, as our dictator says, have something on their conscience too. The simple act of shooting at innocent people is something they should be ashamed of. I even recognized among the soldiers some of Heinrich's friends, and I sincerely hope he is not like them, otherwise I think I will have lost faith in humanity.
A few months later, February 1940.The winter has been very harsh, we didn't really have any shelter to protect us from the cold, sometimes freezing winds. I now know what it's like to live on the street. The soldiers didn't reveal where we were going, only that we had to walk a lot to get there. I have a bad feeling about this surprise destination, but I can't go anywhere else. My skin itches so much, I haven't washed since I left home, I feel like I have a crust and it disgusts me. My hair is as greasy as oil, I'm disgusted by my hygiene but we're all in the same state so, whatever.
—Please listen, announces a very loud voice.—We are going to divide the ranks by age as well as by sex. Girls under 16 to the right, those between 16 and 30 to the center, and the others to the left. And it's the same for the men and young boys.
Here we are separated. My eyes didn't dare leave my brother's for fear of losing him from sight. I'm already struggling to live like this and now they want to separate us. Crying everywhere, children torn from their mothers' arms, fathers separated from the love of their lives. Are we that mediocre? That selfish?
I am ashamed of us, of them. Each group heads in a different direction. My gaze is lost in the movement, I lost the sight of my brother, as well as of my mother and father. I am alone now, against all of them. Big green trucks, in which we must board, are waiting almost impatiently for us. My head is spinning, I want to get out, I want to get off this thing and go back to hiding in mama's skirts, to find a trace of safety again. My heart beats very hard but not in a pleasant way, it's heavy, very heavy. Each beat hurts like a stab in the chest so powerful that I have to think to breathe.
—Do you have something to eat, I haven't eaten in a week, a young brunette girl begs me.—I'm sorry, I don't have anything.—Come on, please, I saw you take some bread earlier.—I'm really sorry but I don't have any bread on me.—Stop lying, give it to me! she says, grabbing my arm.—Please, calm down.—Give me that bread.
Suddenly her body fell on me, alive just a few seconds earlier. A soldier had just shot her in front of me, without any pity for this young girl. Her eyes were still open, and I could still hear her telling me she wanted bread. I didn't dare move, while everything else around me was in motion like this vehicle we were in. I found myself sitting at the back of the truck with this dead girl in my arms. Tears rolled down my cheeks, as heavy as this girl.
We arrived somewhere quite familiar to me but I still didn't dare move. My gaze turned to my right to see a kind of gym hall, and I remembered it had been my gym before all this. A slight feeling of nostalgia invaded me, a slight smile appeared on my face for memories that warmed my heart.
—Get out one at a time.
The truck emptied, and only me and this girl remained.
—Get out of this truck, right now.
My gaze met that of the soldier, no emotion crossed him.
—Move her away and get out.—I… I can't.
He came closer, took the body and pushed it to the other side of the vehicle. He grabbed my arm violently, so hard I didn't even feel it anymore. He pushed me out of the truck, I fell on my hands without meaning to, my skin gnawed by the stones, blood stains appeared.
—Filthy weakling, spat the soldier.
They pulled me up and pushed me into the ranks to follow the others. I wiped my hands on my already very dirty clothes so no one would notice any difference. Beds placed side by side were set up in the center of the hall, no privacy.
—So, you are here to work. It will consist of treating the soldiers and sewing their clothes. You have work clothes placed on each bed. Every day you will have to get up around 6 o'clock. After each day, if the work is done correctly, you will receive a meal.
I wonder what's happening to my parents and my brother, I hope they are safe.
Weeks pass.
A soldier entered, his clothes totally torn. What do they do to end up in such states?
—Hey there, pretty one, he said to me with a wink.
I didn't answer. In fact I haven't spoken since we arrived here. I simply nod when asked something and it seems to bother no one.
—Lost your tongue? How about a little time at the back, you and me?
I had barely laid my hands on him to treat him when he grabbed my wrists with one hand.
—Oh come on, it'll be fun.
He stood up and pushed me against the wall, grabbed my hands and turned me around, my face pressed against the wall. I was scared, I kept praying every night to wake up in my room but nothing changed, all this is real. I felt his hand lifting my skirt despite its length, he didn't have much trouble lifting it.
—Jeff, what the hell are you doing, we have to go now.—Damn, seriously now?—Yes, right now, move it.
His mouth came close to my ear.—Don't worry, this isn't over.
His footsteps moved away. I took a moment before my brain started working again. I had been on the verge of humiliation, and I hadn't moved. I was so afraid of them that I was ready to let it happen. I can't believe it. Me, Ruth Bernstein, who always dares to answer back when I disagree, and here I hadn't dared say anything, as if everything I was had left with my family.
—All workers, please return to your beds.
My feet carried me and I hadn't even realized I was already sitting, my meal in my hands, which was a piece of bread. I saw my body go from 60 kg to 46 kg in just a few weeks. I have never felt so ugly, and yet almost all the soldiers talk to me like that, but all they want is to get a lay. But it's the first time one of them has dared to approach me like that. I promise myself deep inside never again to let anyone touch me, even if it means cleaning toilets with a toothbrush or not eating anything, but I never want a German soldier to touch me with their dirty hands again.
The next morning, very early.—You, come with me.
I followed him without asking anything, despite the fact he came to disturb me in the middle of the night.
—Sit here.
A chair in the middle of a small dimly lit room. This place made me very uncomfortable, a discomfort that turned into a desire to vomit.
—You're going to stay silent throughout this experiment, understood.
A fear invaded me. What was he going to do? The seat was still warm, which showed someone had been there a little earlier. Do we all have to go through this? I felt a needle pierce my skin, my eyelids were heavy and I couldn't keep them open.
A little later.I was lying down when I woke up, still in the same clothes, but something was strange. I had pain between my legs, unbearable pain. I had trouble getting up and moving at all. Running my hand through my hair, I felt a difference. It was short, very short. They had cut it. My long hair, which mom loved so much. I truly had nothing left. And I don't even know what he did to make me hurt so much.
—You're awake, you can return to your work.—What did you do?—Nothing important, go back to your job now!
I finally managed to move one of my legs, then the other. I grabbed the edge of a dresser to hold myself up. The whole way back to my work was done with the strength of my arms. I had almost lost all the strength in my legs, not to mention the pain between them that wouldn't stop.
—Ruth?
My gaze lifted and I saw Heinrich.