The Tattooist of Auschwitz (The Tattooist of Auschwitz #1) - Heather Morris Page 0,65

and vegetables. He accepts her request to travel back with them. She runs and tells the people she has been living with that she is leaving. Saying goodbye to the four friends she escaped with is very difficult. They come with her to the market and wave her off as the truck carrying her and two of her countrymen leaves in the direction of a host of unknowns. She has long accepted that her parents and two young sisters are dead, but she prays that at least one of her brothers has survived. Becoming partisan fighters with the Russians might have kept them safe.

•

In Bratislava, just as in Krakow, Gita joins other survivors of the camps in shared, crowded apartments. She registers her name and address with the Red Cross, having been told that all returning prisoners are doing this in the hope they can find missing relatives and friends.

One afternoon she looks out of her apartment window to see two young Russian soldiers jumping over the back fence into the property where she lives. She is terrified, but as they come closer she recognises her two brothers, Doddo and Latslo. Running down the stairs, she flings open the door and hugs them with all her strength. They dare not stay, they tell her. Even though the Russians liberated the town from the Germans, the locals are suspicious of anyone wearing a Russian uniform. Not wanting to spoil the brief sweetness of their reunion, Gita keeps what she knows about the rest of the family to herself. They will find out soon enough, and this is not something to be spoken of in a few snatched minutes.

Before they separate, Gita tells them how she too has worn a Russian uniform: it was the first clothing she was given on arrival at Auschwitz. She says she looked better in it than they do and they all laugh.

Chapter 26

Lale’s train moves across the countryside. He leans against the compartment wall, fiddling with the two pouches tied inside his trousers that contain the gems he’s risked bringing with him. The bulk of them he left under his mattress. Whoever searches his room can have them.

Later that evening, the train grinds to a halt and rifle-toting SS order everyone to scramble out, just as they had nearly three years ago in Birkenau. Another concentration camp. One of the men in Lale’s wagon jumps down with him.

‘I know this place. I’ve been here before.’

‘Yeah?’ Lale says.

‘Mauthausen, in Austria. Not quite as terrible as Birkenau, but nearly.’

‘I’m Lale.’

‘Joseph, pleased to meet you.’

Once the men have all disembarked the SS wave them through, telling them to go and find themselves a place to sleep. Lale follows Joseph into a block. The men here are starving – skin-covered skeletons – yet they still have enough life in them to be territorial.

‘Piss off, there’s no room in here.’

One man per bunk, each claims his space and looks prepared to fight to defend it. Two more blocks elicit the same response. Finally they find one with more space and claim their turf. As others come into the block, searching for a place to sleep, they call out the accepted greeting: ‘Piss off, we’re full here.’

The next morning Lale sees men from the blocks near him lining up. He realises he is to be strip-searched and asked for information about who he is and where he has come from. Again. From his gem pouches he takes the three largest diamonds and puts them in his mouth. He rushes to the back of the block while the rest of the men are still gathering and scatters the remaining gems there. The inspection of the line of naked men begins. He watches the guards yanking open the mouths of those before him so he rolls the diamonds under his tongue. He has his mouth open before the inspecting party reaches him. After a quick glance they walk on by.

•

For several weeks Lale, along with all the other prisoners, sits around doing virtually nothing. Almost all he can do is watch, in particular the SS guarding them, and he tries to work out who can be approached and who must be avoided. He starts to talk occasionally to one of them. The guard is impressed that Lale speaks fluent German. He has heard about Auschwitz and Birkenau, has not been there, and wants to hear about it. Lale paints a picture removed from reality. Nothing can be gained by telling this German the