The Lives Left Behind

They sat there quietly, eating their dinners, looking down at their plates, avoiding eye contact. Mother, Father, daughter and son, sitting in silence being unappreciative of the little time they have left together. Unknowingly wasting the time they would long for, they sat shifting their eyes from their peas as their forks glided through the mash potato. Edna was the only one looking around, as disappointment flooded her face, desperately trying to revive what life this small family once had, she turned to her son Wilfred and asked how his day was. “It was fine, thank you”. Feeling underwhelmed she then turned to her daughter, Arabella, “and you sweetheart?” Barely even glancing up, Arabella shrugged and signed as if to be annoyed by the simple question. Feeling deflated she then turned to her husband, looked at his aging face, taking notice of how the brightness in his eyes no longer shined the way they used to. He was staring at his food, seeming as lifeless as the plain dry bit of chicken on his plate. She averted her view to a picture hanging just above his head, it was of them on their wedding day. The black and white image did not do the beautiful summer day justice, nor the beautiful colours of the garden they had their ceremony in. Caught in her daze, she sprung back to reality with Hermel waving a hand up trying to get her attention. This night, for no rational explanation was the night that would stick with Edna through everything. This night was the night she would eventually long for, they all would at some time or other. Why this night? Her mind kept picking this night because even though nothing overly extraordinary happened, she caught each of them being, simply, themselves.

Edna always knew it might happen, but Hermal was stubborn. In his defence however, I do not think anybody could of begun to imagine the horrors of the Nazi regime. She knew when they announced the Nuremberg Laws in 1935. Luckily they had wed in February 1925 before the banning of ‘future interrace marriages’. The law scared her, she was a German Catholic but Hermel was a non-practicing German Jew and her children therefore by law were ‘mixed-race’. She knew from the day this law was made that something bad was going to happen, to the extent but no one saw coming. By the time the marking of the Jews became law in 1941 it was too late to flee. Her family's passports were invalid. Horror stories of Jews trying to flee circulated every community. Edna felt stuck, she was stuck. She could leave freely, live freely but her family? Her family were marked like cattle. She had to be the one to sew the stars of David on their clothing. Her children did not even know what the star of David was before the Nazi’s starting identifying them as Jewish and only Jewish.

Things started to get really bad around December 1941. Each day they were making more and more Jewish people pack up their belongings and were forcing them into the back of trucks, driving them away. Most were already in Ghettos, Edna thought. “Where else could they be taking them?” She said to Hermel with the look of worry and tears swelling in her eyes. Chaos struck when Mr Horowitz, the local Jewish baker that Edna had used for years, refused to take orders from the SS guard. “Nein, Nein, Nein” he kept shouting as the guard ordered him to enter one of the trucks. “Not until you tell me where you are taking me!” Mr Horowitz commanded. “Is that resistance I hear?” The SS guard grinned sheepishly, “I have specific orders on how to deal with ungehorsamer Juden.” Like a barn owl swooping swiftly in for its kill, the SS guard without a second thought swiftly removes his revolver from his holster and shoots Mr Horowitz between his eyes. He then looks down at his victim, spits and mumbles “schmutziger Jude”, and walks off. No sign of remorse, consciousness or humanity. It was the most unjustifiable evil that Edna had ever seen. Horror filled her eyes, her mouth dropped and every muscle in her body was trying to produce a scream, but nothing would come out. Fear froze her. Shock took over her whole being. Tears then fell from her face. Unable to talk, Hermel took her by his arms and guided her into his chest and away from the crowd that had now circulated. “How?” is all she managed to muster, so soft and quiet that Hermel almost did not hear. He gulped, swallowing what felt like a razor blade and responded in a shaky near broken tone, “I- I do not know”. That was it, they never spoke of it again.

It was a cold winter's night in January 1942, the wind was howling as it got trapped in the narrow spaces between the houses, causing light bangs against the windows to fill the home. They were asleep, restless due to the noise of chaos surrounding their house, but a noise they had grown accustomed to. Hermel and Edna toss and turn in their small double bed,trying to keep warm. While Wilfred and Arabella lay snug in their beds. Wrapped in a concoction of bed sheets, blankets and clothing to make sure they stay warm all night. It was just like any other night, until it wasn't.

*Bang Bang Bang* “Öffne die Tür”! Edna and Hermel both sprung awake, their hearts sinking knowing this was it. Hermel made his way down stairs shouting “Kommen” hoping they would not bash the door in like they had with so many other homes. An insignificant thought to have at the time. Edna gathered the pre-packed suitcases and the half asleep children, hurrying them along to at least put their thickest clothing on. They thought the less trouble they provided the nicer the SS guards may treat them.

Hermel, opening the door, greeting the soldiers “bitte komm rein” inviting them in. “Papers, now.” One officer bellowed in a strong musculin tone. Edna, handed over all four, with hers on the bottom hoping they did not take a closer look. The officer flipped through, checking for the ‘J’ stamped right in the middle of each. His eyes looked surprised as he separated Edna's from the rest. He investigates closer and shrugs as if it was above his pay grade to understand the why. With a forceful palm, he slams Edna's papers up against her chest, in the process pushing her out of the way and blocking her from the rest of the family. “She stays, take the rest”. She screamed and dropped to the ground, “NO! Please take me, take me too.” As he forced her husband and two children out the door, she wailed pleading to an inch of her life “Please”. The SS officer then turned to her, and in an almost assumed tone said “Now you can go find yourself a proper German man, and have proper German children.” The door slammed shut and she felt her heart tear into a million pieces. She ran to the window, but the darkness of the night had already concealed what direction they went in.

Feeling hopeless, she collapsed once again to the ground, this time wrapping her arms around her legs and completely giving in to every possible emotion she could feel. She wept and wept until the early morning sun started to shine through the curtains. Her eyes and nose crusted around the edges she hoped it was a terrible dream. It was not but, it was her reality and that crippled every inch of her body. For hours she refused to move. The cold air froze her body to the feeling of complete numbness. She felt empty like her whole world had just fallen beneath her feet and she had no way of holding herself up. By midday she finally found enough strength to stand up. She walked over to the small mirror hanging up in the hallway, her eyes were puffed up and bright red. Her cheeks swollen and red and her mouth was still trembling trying to hold in what tears she had left. Her fingers traced the outline of her face on the mirror. Her heart instantly broke again as she lost the small bit of composure she was able to muster up as her eyes fell upon the family portrait hanging beside the mirror. She collapsed once again, this time in bed. It was days before she found strength to move again.

Her grief like her sleep came in waves. Becoming a true night owl she was awake most of the night, stewing over every possible thing that could have become of her family. The days she felt like a vampire, she kept the house dark and any light that broke through would feel like needles penetrating her skin and the glare would nearly blind her sore swollen eyes. The pain of not knowing where her family was, if they were well or even alive overwhelmed her. The ache in her chest grew everyday and took away every ounce of strength she had. Her mother, a very kind lady, would come over daily to make sure she was fed and washed but other than that Edna had no motivation to keep herself or her house clean. Weeks turned into Months, and slowly Edna started to gain her strength back. She would run small errands, tidy the house and sew. She felt like an alien to herself, like she was watching herself perform these mundane tasks from the outside of her body. Hating every moment she had to spend not being a wife and mother. She convinced herself that everything had to be done and in perfect order everyday in case her husband and children came running back through the door. She would find herself sitting, sewing or reading and she would be able to hear the faint sound of her family. A few times she convinced herself so well that she would get up and run to the door thinking they had returned. A sharp pain in her heart would bring her back to reality as if she had been stabbed through the chest with a knife when she found the doorway dark and empty.

The months turned to years of heartache, which had aged her beyond her years. Her face had lost most of its plumed red colour, her blue eyes nowhere near as bright. Her blonde hair starting to gray on the roots and her smile, well her smile has been non-existent. She walked around looking as though every inch of life had been drained out of her little by little, and it had. The only thing that kept her going was that she did not know if her family was alive. If they were she had to be here when they got back. It has been six painful years for many and by December 1944, Germany was losing the war, and the people were suffering. Through the years, Edna has worked up enough courage to go looking for her family. Her attempts were pure in intent but impractical in war torn Germany. She would make it as far as the town over before her questions were met by hostility and suspicion. She felt deflated each time and eventually traded in her hope for her reality. She spent years punishing herself, for not being Jewish, for not trying harder to find her family. Reasons that she truly had no real power over.

By May 1945 Germany had completely lost the war and finally surrendered. Relief filled the country, but for Edna but the end of the war brought her only dread. It was as if she was living in her own little world where her family were safe somewhere. Now that it was over she was going to have to come face to face with the truth of what became of her family. Rumours of concentration camps flooded the towns as allied forces were finding them throughout the neighbouring countries of Germany. Edna's mother told her of the rumours. That they have found Jewish, gypsies and more, starved and near death in these camps or abandoned by the roads. The conditions were inhumane and the atrocities were so severe that people genuinely thought it was all over exaggerated. Edna had long moved from her and Hermel's house, but lived with her mother. She knew her family would easily find her, but that’s what scared her, everyday that passed without their return was everyday that she felt like they were never going to arrive.

It was late July 1945 on a warm summer's night. Edna was in the kitchen baking as she often did to pass the time. Her mother was in the front room reading. It was quiet, the sounds of summer flooded through the open winds. *Knock knock knock*. Edna’s heart skipped a beat but she knew better than to let her hopes overcome her. She composed herself, brushed her hands down her dress and took a deep breath. By the time she arrived at the door her mother had already answered it. The open door blocked both her mother and the visitor. As she approached the door, she lightly grabbed the handle and moved her body in front of it. There he was, standing there tall, handsome, rugged, it was Wilfred. Edna had envisioned this moment so many times that she was convinced it was her mind playing tricks on her. She stood there still, in shock tears forming in her eyes. Wilfred embraced her, instantly healing the part of her heart that broke just for him. Once she smelt his faint scent, felt his warm skin she allowed herself to completely collapse into the moment. They both fell to the ground on their front deck and grieved together. Grieved the time they had lost, the moments they never got and most importantly grieved the last six years of complete horror and loss. Wilfried was home.

Once Wilfred and Edna had allowed themselves to come back to reality, Edna could not help but ask “Father or Arabella?” Wilfred signed sadly as if he had rehearsed what he had to tell her the whole way here. “Mother, we were separated once we got to the Camp. Bella went to the girls camp, I am unsure of what happened to her. I went to the right which was to the male camp, and Father.... Father her got sent left, Ma.” “Left? What does left mean?” Edna said still hoping left only meant a different place. “There were these things, Ma called gas chambers.” He looked down with a tear down his face, not because of the memories but because he knew his Mother was too pure to know of the true horrors he had faced. “They were big rooms, used for mass extermination of Jewish people Ma. Then they used huge ovens to burn the bodies afterwards.” Edna's face, puzzled as she tried to piece together what going left had to do with any of this, you could see the moment she realised what Wilfred was trying to say. Her face softened then fell completely. Tears welling up uncontrollably in her eyes. “My Hermel, my sweet sweet Hermel.” Wilfred wrapped an arm around her shoulder in an effort to comfort her. “I know it is hard to hear, but he did not suffer. He went quiet and did not get tortured or starved like the rest of us. He would have gone peacefully.” Again they fell to the ground and grieved, this time they grieved for Hermel.

A few more months went by, Edna grieved Hermel all over again. They held a small memorial for his memory. She spent most of her time focusing on Wilfred’s recovery. He did not speak much, he had nightmares often, which led him to break out in sweats. It took him weeks to be able to eat a decent sized meal. Edna could not get him to talk about the horrors that happened to him, but the scars on his body told enough of his story. They spent months trying to find Arabella, they scanned every list that was published, they contacted every Jewish relief centre they could think of. They knew she would come home if she survived. They were lucky to have non-jewish relatives. A year goes by, Germany is still in ruins, it was hard to get any straight answers or their hands on any official records.

It was another warm summer day and the warm air circulated through the house blowing in and out the open windows. Wilfred was out in the garden, Edna in the kitchen and Edna’s mother was in the front room, reading, trying to stay cool. *Knock knock knock*. Every Time there was a knock at the door, Edna hoped and imagined that the same wholesome reunion she had with Wilfred would happen again with Arabella. She rushed to the door, disappointment like usual flooded her heart when she answered and saw anyone else there but Arabella. A small woman stood in front of her, her skin pale, her hair curly and brown. She had big brown eyes, and her lips small and plump. She introduced herself as Annie. She was around the age Arabella would be now, 18. “Are you Edna, Arabella’s mother?” Her heart snuck. “Yes, yes. I am. Please come in.” Edna shuffles Annie in the door, taking her to the kitchen. She put the kettle on the stove to boil, and made four cups of tea. She called her mother and Wilfred to join.

“So Annie, how do you know Arabella?” Hopeful for her answer, she knew in her heart that if Arabella was not here, this girl must be here to bear some bad news. Annie took a sip of her tea, and sighed gratefully. “Me and Bella were in the same cabin, in the camp, you know.” She trailed off a bit trying to find the words. “We become very close very quickly. We did everything together. The only way to survive was to make at least one good friend.” Wilfred nodded in agreement, as if he completely understood. “She worked in the main office, helping out where they needed her. Because of this, she was able to stay warm, relatively unharmed and better feed than others. She shared her food with me often, she kept me alive.” Tears started to form in Annie's eyes, Edna put a hand on hers in comfort as if to say, go on it is alright. “She survived most of the war.” The sentence pieced through Edna’s heart. The word ‘survived’ echoing in her mind rattling her ear to ear. She swallowed her tears as best she could and only let a single few fall. “She was still working in the main office in December 1944, when a new commander came to our camp. For some reason he took a liking to her. One night he called on her, he often did. She did what she had to do to survive, you know?” She started crying uncontrollably now knowing what she was saying was something no mother should ever have to hear. “One night she just did not come back. I'm so sorry.” The thought of what her poor daughter must have endured broke what was left of Edna’s heart. She cried, they all did. Annie then went on to share stories of their friendship. Mostly sharing Arabella’s strength and kindness. She apologised for taking so long to get into contact, but she herself was very ill when the allied forces found her and had been in a rehab facility recovering. After they had shared and cried as much as they could, Annie went on her way.

The war had taken everything from Edna and only gave her a tiny bit in return. Her and Wilfred decided to move to England and rebuild their lives. They were both so ashamed of their country, of what Germany did not only to its own people but the world. Her heart still ached for Arabella and Hermel. She knows it will never heal and that she will never move on. Weirdly however, she was fine with it. The love she had for her family only shows in her pain. They made a nice life for themselves in England. Edna made money by sewing and Wilfred became an engineer. Wilfred eventually married and had a family of his own, but always took care of his mother. He knew the pain she felt. He often heard her weeping at night when she thought no one was listening. Even after all the help and closure they got, life after the war was never going to be as good as before for those involved. They walk around wounded long after their scars have healed. It was a reality that they had to live with, knowing that lives were taken unfairly and unjustly. It was a guilt left only with the survivors. A guilt for simply surviving.