The Road to Liberation: Trials and Triumphs of WWII

she rubbed a hand over her head, cringing at the feel of the stubble there instead of the long dark hair she’d once loved to brush and braid.
They’d shorn her hair in the camp before this one, and while she still reeled from the humiliation, she acknowledged that with the disgusting living conditions it might well be a good thing. At least the omnipresent lice couldn’t hide in her hair. Not that it helped much – she was infested with these little buggers from head to toe, and the constant itching and biting was one more nuisance to bear. Mindel, though, had not been shorn, and Rachel had spent time each night picking lice and other critters from her head.
She rubbed her arms, hoping the motion would force some warmth back into her skin. April was still chilly at night and she’d not been able to scrounge a blanket the night before. Every time they were moved from one camp to the next, they’d had to start from scratch, fighting for a bunk, a blanket, and apparently now for the privilege of staying together.
Her hand touched her most precious possession: her soup bowl that she always carried tied to her waist. No bowl – no soup. With a shock she registered the second bowl. Good heavens, I hope someone gave Mindel a cup to eat from.
“Hurry up or do you want us all to be punished for your dawdling?” someone yelled and Rachel quickly climbed down from the bunk. She followed the rest of the women outside to stand in line for the godawful roll call.
According to the other women it could take hours until the SS had counted all the inmates, making sure the numbers of living and dead prisoners matched up.
Her eyes glued to the ground, she whispered to the woman on her left. “Have you been here for long?”
“Too long.”
“I’m looking for my baby sister. She’s in one of the other compounds.”
“You’ll never find her, there’s no way across.”
Rachel felt as if she was shrinking in size with the utter forlornness of her quest. “There must be some way.”
“The infirmary is the only possible way to get to the other side, but you must have a verifiable emergency to be allowed in there,” another woman whispered.
“Like a severed arm,” the first one said.
“Shush,” someone behind them hissed and moments later the guards came up to their row, inspecting each of the women closely.
Desperate to find her sister, Rachel formed a plan. If the infirmary was the one place where people from different sub-camps could meet, she had to go there and ask questions about Mindel. It was a long shot, but someone might have seen her.
With this plan conceived her most important move was to stay in the camp and appear sick enough to be taken to the infirmary. When roll call was finally over and the women were allowed to receive their morning soup, Rachel pondered how to get into the hospital located in the Star camp.
“You’re wasting your energy looking for her,” the woman to her left warned. “A small child like that won’t last long in this place.”
Hatred for the woman rose like bile in her throat and she felt the urge to punch this cold-hearted bitch in her face, but that would only get them both into hot water. In any case, the Nazis were the bad guys here and lashing out at fellow prisoners would only make the situation worse.

3
The horrible sound of a horn woke Mindel from her sleep and she rolled over to snuggle against Rachel’s warm body.
“Hey, get off me, brat!” the person lying next to her yelled.
Mindel swallowed down her fear and opened her eyes. Then she remembered. Rachel was gone. Tears fell down her cheeks as she wallowed in misery. It’s so unjust! Why did they take Rachel away? What have I done to deserve this?
She clutched her doll to her chest as she blindly climbed down from her bunk. She urgently had to pee, but didn’t want to be late for roll call, since she’d been beaten several times before for not arriving on time. Torn between going to the latrines and being late, she finally opted to scramble for the stinking buckets next to her bunk. Holding her nose tight with one hand, she scrambled to push her underwear down with the other hand.
In her hurry she missed the bucket and urinated on her leg, but there was no time – or water – to clean herself. She ran after the others and reached the door just as the last person walked through. Unsure what to do next, she followed a girl who looked slightly younger than Rachel and didn’t leave her side as everyone lined up for roll call.
While walking past rows and rows of inmates, she glanced into each and every face, hoping to find Rachel somewhere.
“You new here?” the older girl asked.
“Yes. I lost my sister when we arrived.”
“I’m Hanneli, what’s your name?”
Finally, a friendly soul who didn’t scold her or send her away. Mindel gave her a grateful smile. “I’m Mindel.”
“I saw you last night at the food line and then in our barracks, but you were asleep already. Take this.” Hanneli held out a tin cup for her. “I stole it from a stiff last night.”
Mindel nodded and reached out to take the cup, weak from hunger. “What’s a stiff?”
“A dead person.” Hanneli looked straight ahead and told Mindel to do the same, before she added, “Guard the cup with your life. Tie it to your body. Put it beneath your blouse at night. Don’t ever leave it unattended. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Mindel understood well enough. “No cup, no food.”
While standing more or less motionless for the eternity of the roll call, she clandestinely removed Paula’s hair ribbon, slung it through the cup’s handle and tried at least a dozen times to make a bow. With every failed attempt, her desperation grew.
When the guards had passed their row, Hanneli