Page 94 of Hell to Pay
“Nobody’s told you about the Displaced Persons camps?” The colonel looked surprised.
“No,” Dr. Becker said. “I’ve heard nothing of this.”
“Well, we’ve set up quite a few of them. Föhrenwald, for one, outside of Munich. For the survivors of the camps, you know.”
“Yes,” Dr. Becker said heavily, “I know of the camps.”
“The DP camps are pretty good,” the colonel said. “At Föhrenwald in particular, they have schools for the kids, an orchestra, lectures, religious books, and the—” He made a gesture.
“The Torah scrolls, perhaps?” Dr. Becker said. “Although I’m not a very good Jew, I’m afraid. I thought I was German, but …”
“Yes,” the colonel said, “I imagine quite a few Jews found that one out. It won’t interest you much, then, that there’s also a—what’s the name for a Jewish religious school?”
“A yeshiva.”
“That’s the one. All Jews in the camp, you see. Turns out they were more comfortable that way.”
“Yes,” Dr. Becker said. “I imagine they were. And I suppose I may become a more observant Jew now.”
“I won’t say the accommodations are palatial,” the colonel went on. “The place was a Hitler Youth camp until recently.But it’s houses, not tents, with good sanitary facilities—trust the Army to make sure of that—and you’ll get a lot more food than the average German. We’ll see to that.” His good-natured face suddenly looked grim.
“These camps,” Dr. Becker said. “Are they guarded?”
“You mean, will you have trouble with the locals? No. That’s not going to happen.”
“You misunderstand me,” Dr. Becker said. “Would I be free to leave?”
He was trembling. I could barely see it, but I felt it in him, a tremor throughout his body.
The colonel stared. “You think we’d put you in a prison camp? No. It’s a way station, is the idea, whether you decide to stay in Germany or go somewhere else, because there’ll be people to help with emigration, too. Britain’s taking some Jewish refugees, and so are Canada and the States. Australia, too, I hear.”
“Palestine?” It was barely a breath.
“I don’t know about that,” the colonel said, “but there’ll be somewhere. If you’re a doctor, I imagine they can use you in Föhrenwald. Some of the people down there are in pretty rough shape. You’d likely be paid, too. In American dollars, not marks.”
“And my children and I could be housed together?”
“Well, sure,” the colonel said, looking puzzled. “Why would we do anything else?”
Dr. Becker looked at him, then at me. I said, my heart squeezing with pity, “He finds it hard to believe you.”
“Well, shoot,” the colonel said. “Go on down there, I guess, and check it out for yourself.”
“How?” Dr. Becker asked baldly.
“We have no money for the train,” I said.
“Are you Jewish, too?” the colonel asked.
“Me?” I said. “No. No, I’m not a relation. But we’ve beentraveling together, you see. Escaping together, as I was—as my father was …” I trailed off.
“I’m sorry, miss,” the colonel said, “but the camps are not for Germans.”
“Oh.” I swallowed. “Yes, of course. How silly of me.”
“But you’ll come with me to Munich, Daisy?” Dr. Becker asked. “With the children and me, to see whether it’s safe? To talk to the Americans?” I could tell how exposed he felt, having shown his realKennkarteto officialdom.
“Of course I will,” I said. “And then I’ll journey back to Fürth again and bake more bread.” I tried to say it bracingly, but I didn’t feel nearly as confident as that. What was in Fürth for me, when all was said and done? If Frau Adelberg turned me out … It didn’t bear thinking of, but I’d have to think of it. I’d have to manage somehow.
