Free Clara's War by Clara Kramer

words are almost superfluous, perhaps even redundant. How could nothing, nothing be out of place in this house and outside the world be so upside down?
    Mania wanted to talk. ‘I’ve been thinking about going to the nuns. Lots of our friends have already gone.’
    â€˜I know.’
    â€˜We’ll be safe,’ my sister argued. ‘Mama and Papa want us to be safe.’
    â€˜I know they want us to be safe. But I’m not sure about going to the nuns.’
    Mania was capable of making big decisions, of rash actions, of decisive and independent thought. I was used to living in this protected cocoon of a world where Mama and Papa made all the major decisions for me. I was content not to question because I knew they loved me and had my best interests at heart. But now, in this ever-shifting world, Papa seemed overwhelmed. To go with the nuns would mean perhaps to lose them, perhaps for ever. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know if I want to leave Mama and Papa.’
    â€˜Clara, everybody’s disappearing. Everybody’s going some place. We’re being murdered at every corner. We know what happens at the camps! We know what’s happened in other places!’
    Mania was honest, blunt and direct as always. If we wanted to go to the nuns, I know my parents would allow it. The decision was now mine to make. We lay awake a long time that night, but we didn’t say much more. Mania’s proposition was a weight on my chest and it crushed all the air out of my lungs so it was hard to breathe. Whatever happened, it would happen to us as a family.
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    Shortly after that argument, the summer ended and the Nazis ordered us out of our house. We moved into Uchka’s tiny house, where she lived with Hersch Leib’s aunt, who raised him after his parents died. We didn’t talk about it; just like we hadn’t saidanything to Josek about Rela having a baby. It was simply too painful to talk about. We didn’t sleep at Uchka’s, however. We started sleeping at the Melmans’ and going back to Uchka’s during the day. The Patrontasches slept there as well. We wanted to be prudent since we knew the Nazis preferred to come early in the morning, hoping to catch their prey disoriented and vulnerable.
    Papa spent all of September and October still trying to find someone to take us in. Even with all the families we had helped over the years, all the families we had employed, all the farmers we had given credit to and whose grain we had milled for nothing in hard times, we couldn’t find one person to help us. We understood their reasons and didn’t think any less of them. Josek and Rela were in the same situation as us. We built a bunker under the factory in case they would be forced to hide there. At least Uchka had managed to find a Polish family named Skibicki willing to take her and the children in. It was a relief to know that they would be safe.
    There were rumours of an akcja –a mass deportation or a slaughter. I don’t know where the rumours started or how they got to us. The town was full of rumours. Mr Patrontasch was an insomniac and seemed never to sleep at all. One day, 22 November, when we were still at the Melmans’, I woke up to Mr Patrontasch screaming, ‘Get ready! I just saw two trucks and the Gestapo and the Jewish Police! From Lvov! They’re heading into town.’
    While we scrambled to wake up and put on our shoes, he ran out again and came back just a moment later. ‘It’s an akcja ! They’re driving us up the street!’
    I heard gunshots and the Gestapo running and yelling. Mr Melman ran out to warn his friends, the Britwitzes next door. They were sitting at their table, eating breakfast. They also hada bunker, but the Gestapo was already banging on the front door. Mr Britwitz held his front door closed with his body until the family had time to hide. Then he let go and started running down the street away