Free Clara's War by Clara Kramer Page B

this city with all their might. If Stalingrad fell, there would be no hope for us.
    A new decree followed shortly thereafter. All the Jews in Zolkiew were ordered to be in the ghetto by the first of December, only a week away. We knew the ghetto would be the end of us. There was nowhere to hide there. Two days after the decree, there was a knock on Uchka’s door in the evening. Papa opened it to find Pavluk standing on the step. He was a strong man whose giant hands were curled around his hat. His pants were shabby and he wore a soiled homespun linen shirt. He had one of those big moustaches that so many of the Ukrainian peasants had. Pavluk was a murderer. After being released from jail he had come to the factory looking for a job. Papa had gone to my grandfather to ask his advice. Dzadzio hadn’t hesitated for a second. He said, ‘Hire the man. I promise you, you will have a grateful man your entire life.’
    Pavluk told Papa he wanted to hide us. Papa didn’t say a word. He just took Pavluk’s hand and invited him into the house.
    â€˜Thank you. You don’t know what this means to us. But we can’t.’
    I didn’t understand why Papa was refusing the offer. Mama, Mania and me all looked at each other and at him. I could see the protest forming on my sister’s lips. Her dark eyes expressed the most profound disappointment. Papa went on in a kind voice: ‘You have six children, Pavluk. And your house. Tworooms with no place for us to hide.’ As much as we wanted him to say yes, we knew Papa was right. We couldn’t put six children at risk. Out of all the Poles and Ukrainians that my family knew and had helped for generations, Pavluk was the only one who had come forward to help us.
    Pavluk was upset that he hadn’t properly thought through his plan for our survival. He muttered, ‘I want to do something, anything to help.’ Mama was moved by his sadness. Even though we had already put everything of value we had left behind the stuccoed false wall in the basement of our spinster neighbours, Mama gave him two down pillows and a featherbed to keep for us.
    Our down bedding would survive the Nazis.

Chapter 3
THE HOUSEKEEPER
    End November to the beginning of December 1942
    There are terrible tragedies, unbelievable tragedies…a stone would cry, but I’m sorry to say, the Gestapo is not touched by Jewish tears. They shoot at the people who jump indiscriminately, old or child…Carriages bring dead bodies that were killed on the spot trying to run, or trying to get up when they were told to kneel in the centre of the city. Also the people who were killed while jumping off the train and the ones that were betrayed by the gentiles.
    T here was nothing more to do. There were just a few days left. We would have to find a place in the ghetto. My father’s brother David had found a studio, but he had six children and there would be no room for another four.
    Aunt Giza had got married to a man named Meyer. They had left Zolkiew for the tiny little farming town of Mosty Wielke. There was a work camp there that was considered safe. The German commandant Krupp protected the Jews. He made sure they had enough to eat and that they lived as normal a life as possible.
    Josek and Rela had found a place to live in the ghetto, but they were afraid for their little Moshele. Thankfully, because of his fair skin and blond curls, they were able to find a Polish peasant named Sluka who was prepared to take Moshele in exchange for money. Josek had secured a job as a Jewish policeman, which would allow him to leave the ghetto and check on their son. Uchka and the children were going to live with Hersch’s aunt, who had found a place on Turiniecka Street, which marked the border of the ghetto. One side of the street was the ghetto. The other side belonged to the Poles and Ukrainians. We were all packing, and Papa did all he could, searching everywhere for somewhere we