The Road to Liberation: Trials and Triumphs of WWII

turned around and said, “Let me.” Then she made a sling with a knot and pushed it over Mindel’s wrist. “There you are. Don’t lose the mug.”
“Thank you.”
Mindel hated the roll call with a passion; it was the most awful thing she’d ever experienced, even more than the constant hunger and abuse. In the beginning of her captivity, she’d wanted to jump, run and play, but Rachel had forced her to stand still.
Then, as time passed, she’d become hungrier and weaker and all she wanted was to sit down, but again Rachel had forced her to stand up. Didn’t those SS men have anything better to do than to keep everyone out in the cold, rain or sunshine? Didn’t they see how exhausting it was having to stand still for all that time? Mindel didn’t understand why they had to keep counting everyone; it wasn’t as if there was a way out of this horrid place.
When the roll call finally ended, she trotted off to take her place in the queue, waiting for soup. She carefully removed the sling from her wrist and grabbed the cup with both hands and for good measure gave a fierce grimace so nobody would dare to steal it from her, because she was really, really hungry. When it was her turn, the food bearer filled the mug up to the brim and gave her a small piece of bread.
Mindel bit on her lip, trying to balance the mug with one hand and the bread with the other one. When the soup spilled, she almost started to cry.
“Take it into both hands,” Hanneli, who’d come up behind her, said. “Like this.” She showed Mindel how to put the bread between her teeth to have both hands free for the mug. Mindel nodded, focusing on stepping lightly as she looked for a place to sit down and eat. Even with both hands it wasn’t easy to keep the liquid from spilling over, and she stopped several times to take a sip from the cup and steady the wild movement of the precious soup.
It tasted atrocious and even a month ago she would not have eaten this horrible gruel, but with her aching tummy she’d eat just about anything. Even the dirt on the ground. She had learned never to ask for more, even though she didn’t understand why. The SS people were eating all the time, so why didn’t they give her something when her tummy hurt?
The mug was empty all too soon and she scraped out every last drop with her fingers, licking them clean. If her mother could see her now, she’d be struck with an open hand. Back home the rule was no fingers in food. Mindel had hated that stupid rule, because eating with fork and knife was so hard, but she didn’t like having to lick the rest of this disgusting gruel, either.
Thoughts of her mother filled her with sadness. Rachel had told her their parents had been sent away to work for the government and would soon return.
“But why can’t they work on our farm? Mother always says there’s more than enough work to do,” she had asked and Rachel had answered with a typical adult turn of phrase. “You’re too young to understand.”
As if! Mindel understood quite well that adults had some very strange opinions and didn’t seem to know how things really worked. Or why would they stay in this awful place? Why didn’t they tell the SS to let them go?
Since Hanneli had been so nice, Mindel gathered all her courage and asked, “I lost my sister. Can you help me find her?”
Hanneli’s eyes took on a sad expression. “What’s her name?”
“Rachel.”
“And her last name?”
Mindel furrowed her brow, thinking hard. She knew that the adults sometimes had called her mother Frau …something. She just couldn’t remember it. As hard as she tried, nothing came to her mind. “I don’t know.”
“Well, that makes is difficult. There must be hundreds of girls with the name Rachel in the camp. Do you know how old she is?”
Again, Mindel was at wits’ end. She put up four fingers. “I’m four. Aron is seven.” Then she put up all ten fingers. “This is how old Israel is. And Rachel, she’s much older.”
Hanneli gave a deep sigh. “Aron and Israel are your brothers?”
“Yes.”
“Are they here, too?”
“No. When the SS came after us, they ran so fast, the men couldn’t catch them!” Mindel was immensely proud of her brothers. They were true heroes. If her own legs weren’t so short, she would have run with them, and then …she began to sob. “It’s all my fault that we’re here!”
“How can you say this? It’s the Nazis’ fault.”
Mindel trembled with guilt and rage. “I stumbled when we were running. Rachel picked me up and carried me, but then she was so much slower than my brothers. That’s why the men caught her. It’s all my fault!”
Hanneli wrapped her arm around Mindel’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault. You’re still so little.”
“I don’t want to be little!” Mindel burst out. “I want to be grown-up and strong and then I will punch all the SS men in the face and tell them to let us go.”
This time Hanneli smiled before she said, “Unfortunately it doesn’t work like that. We can search for your sister in the evening if you want.”
Another horn sounded and Hanneli stood up, pulling Mindel with her. “The adults have to go on their work details. You’d better return to your bunk and stay out of the way.”
“Work?” Mindel asked, perplexed, but nodded and walked back to her barracks, proud that she’d memorized which one it was. Once she arrived in the mostly empty barracks, save for a few sick people groaning, she climbed into her bunk. The stench was repellant, but she held her nose and pulled out Paula from under her blouse. The poor mite hadn’t had anything to eat yet.
Lying on her bed, talking to Paula, her belly was aching and