the track, the iron bedstead sledges were being used to haul trees back to the barracks, while elsewhere, men carried smaller trees on their shoulders.
Eva joined her at the window, their breath misting the glass. She cleared the fog with her hand, watching the procession of men and trees, then said, ‘Oh, of course, we’re being stupid. It’s nearly Christmas, isn’t it?’
‘You’re right’ – Sally shrieked – ‘they’re getting their Christmas trees.’ She skipped around the room with joy, clapping her hands. ‘We’ve all been so busy here, I hadn’t realised how soon it was. We’ve got to get organised.’
That year, that first Christmas of liberation, the aid workers at the Wildflecken camp decided that every one of the residents there should receive a present. ‘We’re using some of the goods from the Red Cross food parcels,’ Ken said. ‘I know we usually split up the parcels and store them as general supplies for the whole camp, but this Christmas is special. Some of the box-tickers might not approve of this, but hell, it’s their first Christmas of freedom! Let’s give the poor bastards a treat.’
So the workers selected some of the more luxurious items from the Red Cross consignment, like raisins, coffee and biscuits, plus chocolates for the women and cigarettes for the men. And all around the camp the residents were also making their own preparations: sewing, cooking and singing, as if distilling all the lost Christmases denied them during the last six years of starvation and slavery into one gigantic celebration that captured the essence of every splendid Christmas they had ever known.
On Christmas Eve, Eva and Sally soon forgot their promise to Brigitte not to sample the home-made liqueurs brewed in the camp. Ducking under washing lines of damp nappies, peeling back thick blankets that draughtproofed doors, they were invited into each family’s room, glowing with the firelight from a stove. In these crowded quarters, foetid with the close smell of rarely washed bodies and infrequently changed babies, people smiled and laughed and clinked little glasses of ruby-red plum brandy.
‘It’s delicious,’ Eva said, ‘but I’m not sure how many more I can manage. It’s so strong!’
‘I’ll help you out,’ Sally said, laughing. ‘It’s too good to waste.’
Children of all ages had their noses pressed to the windows and when she saw the girls looking curious, a proud mother explained, ‘They are looking out for the first star. We cannot begin to eat our Christmas feast until the first star of the night has been seen in the sky. We call it the Little Star. It is how we all remember the story of the star of Bethlehem.’
Suddenly there was a cry from one of the children: ‘It’s here, it’s here! The star has come!’ Everyone immediately began to offer food as well as drinks. One elderly grandmother insisted they sample her beetroot soup with mushroom dumplings and another family offered pancakes filled with mushrooms and cabbage.
‘However have you all managed to put on such a magnificent feast?’ asked Eva, when they found Irene Komorowski graciously offering refreshments to all the visitors crowding her quarters.
‘We have been making preparations for quite some time, of course. Everyone who could spare the time went out into the forests in the autumn, picking mushrooms, which we dried for just this occasion. There is food to be had, my dear, if you look hard enough, and for those who have survived these years through eating scraps from the floor, there are great riches to be found all around us.’
‘But just look at this beastie!’ Sally pointed to the large whole fish, laid out in resplendent glory on the table, its glistening surface decorated with thin slices of carrot and hard-boiled egg. ‘Wherever did you get this?’
Irene smiled at her and said, ‘Ah, the carp is always the centrepiece of our Christmas Eve meal. Until very recently it was living in the bath, so it is the freshest of carps. You must both try it.’
She cut a small portion for the girls to taste, then said, ‘And you must take this too, my dears, for good luck.’ She held out two paper-thin silver discs on her forefinger. ‘Here, take one each and slip it inside your undergarments, against your heart, and it will bring you good luck. You must keep it there all tonight and then if you give it to someone else tomorrow, they too will have good fortune in the coming year.’
Sally and Eva stared at the little pieces of