Chapter Two: An Act of Kindness.

“Hallo?” I gentle voice called. Someone was nudging at my shoulders. “Peter, help this young girl!” My eyes peeled open to the sight of nurses around me and a Red Cross truck grumbling by the tree line. The sky was a frail grey, looking as if it may snow again. I myself was covered in a snow blanket and I couldn’t feel my face which was totally exposed.  A heavy pile of blankets were strewn on top of me and the woman who was yelling for “Peter” hauled my suitcases off.

“What’s your name?” I heard the lady yell, but I couldn’t turn to face her, and my lips wouldn’t part. “Sit her up!” She shouted to the man kneeling over me. He brushed off the snow from my hair and picked me up abruptly. “Let’s get her to the hospital, Peter.” The lady said softly, her voice sounded so worried. Peter lowered me into the truck and softly placed more wool blankets beneath my head to keep it propped up. It was there that I noticed that the distance between the forest and the train tracks was around 10 yards. I barely made it safe without hitting anything.

“I can’t feel my face,” I moaned.

“Oh, darling, we know. God knows how long you’ve been lying there.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s noon.” She smiled and the truck began plowing through the snow. The snow freshly covered much of the train tracks, and it was very deep, concealing much of the wheels of the Red Cross truck. “What were you doing there?” The dark haired woman asked, seeming confused.

“I fell from a train…I assume last night.”

She gasped, “Oh my,” and shook her head as she checked my fingers for frostbite.

“I’m freezing. My back feels wet.” I whined to her, knowing that there was little she could do in this empty truck. She rubbed my hands in between hers.

“I’m sorry,” she continued in Polish, “soon, we will be at the field hospital and they will get you feeling better in dry clothes.” She smiled. “Where are you from?” She asked, as she stood up from the long bench that ran on either sides of the truck’s interior.

“Lublin. Pawia, to be exact.” Lublin was a big town outside south of Warsaw.

“What were you doing traveling at a time like this?” She asked me, a troubled look in her eyes as she furrowed her brow and crossed her arms; reminding me of a mother scolding her child.

“I’m in search of a safer place. All my family and friends are either in Lublin or Warsaw and it’s just…as you may know, not a safe place to be.”

“So, you wanted to travel by yourself to the heart of Germany? Which is safer to you?” I became confused as to why she was indulging on my escapades which were none of her business after all. And as I became warmer and came to my senses a bit more, I decided I would keep to myself about everything that happened from that point onward.

“It’s a bit personal, if you don’t mind. I have to meet someone in Germany.” I hated lying, and I’m sure she knew I wasn’t telling the truth, but at the time, she was simply a nurse. She saved me, and I owed her to talk to her at least.

“You know, Hitler has all kinds of men and their big machines going to Warsaw right this minute. Maybe it’s a good idea if you just keep to yourself that you didn’t come from there.” Good advice from a stranger. I attempted a smile and a nod, agreeing.

The driver, Peter, opened the glass window from the cab and shouted above the roaring engine, “We are in Krakow!” It was then, that I immediately became homesick. I was still in my country, not even in Germany yet. How would I feel when there is no turning back? I began shivering again, but this time, it was out of fear, because there was no turning back for home. Home would soon be reduced to rubble. I finally forced myself to sit up. I saw soldiers in brown shirts running around, and some standing armed in front of buildings. I became discouraged that I wouldn’t even be looked at in the hospital because these men were surely everywhere and would ask to see my papers.

“Okay, I will walk you inside and then after that, it is auf wiedersehen!” The nurse hopped out of the truck and opened the short tailgate to help me out. Nervously, I clutched my luggage and slid off of the bench and out into the snowy stone walkway that led to the grey makeshift hospital. “Don’t you worry, I can tell you are. They will get you stable then let you go when you are safe. Okay?” She rubbed my shoulder as she led me. She was so nice, reassuring me the entire time, but those soldiers were so demeaning it was hard to feel safe surrounded by enemies in your own country.

“How can I thank you and Peter?” I asked her, my voice cracking a bit.

“You don’t need to.” She smiled, “My name is Ava, if I didn’t tell you before. And I wish you a safe travel.” We stood in front of the hospital.

“There must be some way I can repay-“

“Please, this is my job.” She kissed my cheek, and opened the frail wooden door to the hospital.

“Goodbye, Ava.” I frowned, and then turned away to be helped by another stranger.

 

“Name and birth date?” A very short, blonde woman had a typewriter ready at a desk to the left of me. I was too busy gazing at the handful of people there that were extremely ill or injured. The blonde didn’t bother looking up at me.

“Oh, excuse me,” I turned, wringing my hands again anxiously as I shivered from how cold I was. “Zofia Koscinski. May 16, 1920.”

“Do you have a second name?” She muttered, seemingly hating her job.

“No.”

“I need your identity papers if you have them.” She sighed, and for the first time she looked up from the typewriter, it was more of a glare at me however. I fell into a feeble wooden chair in front of her temporary desk and began pillaging through my belongings.

“I have them, please, one second.” I mumbled timidly, staring into my purse. My heart was pounding so hard, and I had no idea why. In reality, I was in no real danger or trouble. I was probably suffering from hypothermia, but other than that, I tried to reconcile with myself that everything would be all right.

Finally, I came across my passport and the little papers that were my identification and handed them to her, almost falling over in the process. “May I get some coffee? I’m so cold.” I shook, huddled up in my wet outer garments.

“Nurse!” She yelled with a sense of urgency. “Just one moment, I apologize, but the people here are at risk of losing their life.” I sulked, revealing my gloved fingers to see that they were purple. “Do you have anywhere to go from here?” The typist asked, her hair neatly curled fell around her face. No, I didn’t have anywhere to go. I was not familiar with Krakow at all.

“Yes ma’am.” I paused. She handed me my papers back and stood up from her tiny desk.

“Come on.” She sighed, leading me behind her desk down a narrow corridor and into a freezing room with four beds and an open fire in the center of the room. I managed to wobble with limited assistance to a bed where I threw myself onto it. “I will get your bags.” The typist told me. When she came back, she tossed a heap of white blankets on top of me and slammed my luggage beside me. “How did you carry that?” She rolled her wrists in pain, but I still did not answer her. “Zofia, you are the only woman here.” She daintily walked to leave the room where a sheet was hanging as a divider. I nodded my head in understanding and she disappeared back to her desk.

 

 

“Can you hear me? Hello?” I opened my eyes to almost total darkness aside from the dwindling fire light and two nurses beside me; one with a pan of food and the other with an open bag of medical instruments.

“Yes, I can hear you well.”

“Good, we are going to get you better, but you can’t leave until tomorrow.” Both of the nurses were middle aged, the one offering food was fair skinned and had freckles and bright red lips with auburn hair,  the other, a brunette with thinner lips and an overly powdered face. “Can you sit up? We need you to eat and then take off those clothes so they can be dried.” I didn’t want to be rude to them, but it hurt to move and talk, so I decided to just nod my head in answer. I sat up with a lot of help from the two women and the dark haired nurse set down the tray of food. Immediately, I picked up the bowl of soup, put it to my lips and began drinking it as quickly as possible. I could feel my lips and tongue tingle in warmth. The two nurses looked at me in confusion. “We have warm milk and some bread there too.”

“Thank you.”

“Tell us your name?” The red haired nurse asked as she studied my passport.

“Zofia,” I told her, knowing that I wasn’t totally damaged from being in the snow since I could remember my name. After the soup was settled in my stomach, I decided to eat all the bread and milk without noticing how quickly I was doing so. “I didn’t realize I was that hungry. I’m sorry for being such a pig.” I was discomfited, wiping my mouth with the back of my bare hand. The nurses giggled.

“You may have a stomach ache now.” One said, still laughing a bit. “When you are ready, if you can get out of bed please and remove all the clothes you can.” The dark haired nurse took the tray from my lap and I ran my fingers through my hair. Anxious, I looked at the nurses who were busy helping me.

“Do I have to in front of you?” I managed an inaudible voice.

“We can’t let you fall and get hurt.” The red haired nurse shook her head, holding the tray at her hip. “I can get you a gown though. That way, once the heavy garments come off, you don’t have to be seen with the gown over the rest of your clothes.” She smiled, and then left to go get a gown.

“You two are so nice, must be a Godsend. I had a nurse pick me up I think this afternoon that brought me here.” I stumbled upon my words, I was still frigid, but at least now I could feel that I was cold.

“You can call me Mrs. Nowak.”

“Okay, Mrs. Nowak, I would like to formally thank you for helping me live.” I chuckled at the end of my sentence; it seemed like a foolish thing to say.

“Why thank me? This is my job. Besides, you remind me of my daughter.” I looked down at my feet, unsure of how to respond.

“This is the only size we have left. The Germans are big people.” The red haired nurse laughed, tossing the light blue piece of fabric onto the bed. I eyed it, the hesitantly rolled it up and fit it over my head. With the help of Mrs. Nowak, stood up, and took off everything beneath the cotton baby blue gown. I had to admit, lying down in dry clothes was the most satisfying thing I experienced all week.

 

Morning couldn’t come fast enough, I thought as soon as I awoke. It was 9, and I could hear the birds chirping over the commotion from the other patients. The German language was being spoken outside, sounding like arguing. If I never learned German, I would be so lost in this war, not knowing what other country spoke Polish.

“Zofia, let me take your temperature and then send you on your way.” Mrs. Nowak startled me, pushing open the sheet divider quickly and hastily walking toward me.

“What’s wrong?”

“The Germans said this is set up for soldiers only.” I could tell she was holding back tears.

“Don’t worry about it,” I mumbled over the thermometer. “I need to get going anyways.”

“I was hoping you would understand, dear.” She smiled and told me my temperature was normal and so was my pulse. “How do you feel?”

“I’m not frozen to the bone anymore.” I tried to stay happy. She stood me up and hugged me tight.

“It was very nice to meet you, Zofia. Be careful out there.”

“Thank you for getting me better.” I hugged back, knowing that this would be the last time to be treated with such hospitality.

 

Walking down an unfamiliar street in a city I’d never been to was wasting my time. Other than the beautiful sites embellished with a dusting of snow, the glares from soldiers reminded me to keep my head facing the ground. I decided to stop at a brightly painted candy shop to ask for directions to the train station. I was told only two were operating and they were quite a way from where I was. It was still early, so maybe time was on my side.

Upon leaving the candy store, a giant black horse was tied to the post next to the door. I gasped and hurriedly paced to the magnificent beast. Horses were my favorite thing in the world. With no one around, I approached the black horse with my hand out for him to smell. He licked my hand and a loud surprised giggle came from me. I took the horse’s large head in my hands and he pressed it against my chest, the breath from his nostrils so hot on my hands.

“That’s not your horse, go away!” shouted a man from behind, marching out from the alley next to the candy store. Completely stunned, I dropped my hands and stepped back; the onyx horse tossed his head up, and then turned to see who disrupted the peace. Assuming the horse to be his, I apologized. “Be grateful the Hauptsturmführer didn’t catch you. He would cut off your hands here in the street.” Oh, a soldier’s horse, I thought, rolling my eyes.

“Whose hands would I cut off?” A guttural voice sounded close behind me as I was trying to think of someway to defend myself from the angry round man. I turned away to run, smashing my face accidently into the man who spoke behind me.

“Oh, excuse me,” I said fast, not even looking up. I spoke to the ground, seeing only his shiny black booted feet. I panicked, “I, I, I…didn’t realize you were so close…” My voice trailed off, feeling like I could die from a heart attack from all these people coming from nowhere. Out of anxiety, I began wringing my hands, still not looking up or moving, as the man in black blocked me.

“Her hands; that little girl standing in front of you, sir. She was touching your horse!” I never got a good look at my accuser as he was fortified by the black steed.

“He’s a lovely horse, isn’t he?” The soldier whispered to me. “Look up. I want to see the face of the girl who committed such a crime.” His tone became sarcastic. Or was it?

Hoping I wasn’t being tricked, I slowly pulled my head up, and up, and up. He was a tower of a man, ivory skinned against his solid black uniform. I was frozen in fear, even though no real crime was committed. His stone cold, almost transparent eyes made me shudder. His face alone could stop my heart. “Franz, this girl is harmless, mind your own business,” Laughed the soldier.

“If I may please be excused,” my voice was morose; I was surprised he heard me. I stared back at the ground.

“Where are you going with all of this baggage?” He asked concertedly. I mustered the strength to look up at him again.

“Germany.” I whispered to him. His eyes widened and he drew in a deep breath of heavy astonishment at my answer. I felt weak, sick almost, staring at him, not being able to look away, dumbfounded. I was never a shy girl, quite the contrary I was known for being quite the renegade.

“You’re Polish.” He stated, smiling.

“Yes.”

“Why Germany?”

“Why not?” I told him quietly, not sure if he was amused or vexed. After what seemed like forever of him studying me, I remarked, “It seems to be the only country that hasn’t been invaded.” I bit my bottom lip. He laughed haughtily.

“Want me to take her to the-“ the man who yelled at me for petting the black horse began, but was cut off by the man in black.

“Franz! What are you still doing here? Take Lutz back to his stall.” He ordered disdainfully.

“I better get going.” I gulped, becoming more anxious. Before he could respond, I picked up my luggage and began to make my way to the train station.

“Miss, no train runs for another,” he gazed at his watch, and it was then that I could actually look at him without him seeing me, “four hours.” His tone was surprised that the trains were running so rarely. Still clutching my bags with my life, and with only a small distance between us, he gazed at me with eyes I’d never been looked at with before. Captivated, I stood there, staring right back, feeling like a little girl.

“Well, I have to walk anyways. God knows how long that will take.”

“Walk? No, no, no,” he put his hands in his pockets and slowly walked toward me, his head held high, “I will take you there, no problem.” He smiled at me so cordially. What was I thinking, carrying on with the enemy? I had to decline his invitation.

“I can’t do that, sir. I don’t know you.” I found it hard to keep eye contact as he did with me.

“My name is Erich,” he extended his hand and smiled sweet again, “what’s yours?” I eyed his hand skeptically, trying to find any excuse not to go with him.

“Zofia,” I lifted my eyes to him and stepped forward to shake his hand. His leather gloved hand dwarfed mine; his fingers squeezed my hand tight.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Zofia. Now that we know each other-“

“I should get going, really Herr Erich.”

“Just Erich, Miss Zofia.” He bowed his head.

“Erich,” I started again, saying his name slowly, without an ounce of confidence, “I can’t go somewhere with someone I don’t know.” I shook my head.

“We know each other now just fine.” He laughed, “Zofia, I’m just asking you come with me. I can’t let you walk all that way for hours. There are beasts in the woods.” He winked, leaning forward to whisper his last words as if beasts were a secret.

I sighed, “I’m too old for tales, I know better than that.” My whole reason for avoiding him and all Germans at that was because they were evil enemies. He can like me all he wants, I thought to myself, but I will never like him.