Jacob's Courage: Romance and Survival amidst the Horrors of War
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This book shows the critical roles that love, determination, and steadfast belief play toward battling one's demons both physically and mentally. Jacob's Courage is ultimately a tribute to the triumphant human spirit. - The Jewish Book Council
Jacob's Courage is a po
Charles S. Weinblatt
Charles S. Weinblatt, who retired in 2004 at the age of 51 from a rewarding career as a university administrator because of a spinal disability, is a prolific book reviewer for The New York Journal of Books, the author of several books, and a former contributing journalist for The Examiner. Weinblatt's biography appears in the Marquis Who's Who in America and Who's Who in American Education. In January 2021, Weinblatt was selected by the Marquis Board to receive the Albert Nelson Marquis Lifetime Achievement Award. Weinblatt joined the University of Toledo in 1987 as Director of Computer Learning Centers. He became a program manager in the Human Resource Development Center and a Program Coordinator in the Division of Continuing Education. Weinblatt created the Division of Organization Development in 1995, providing management consulting, customized training, and organizational and employee assessments. He served as director until his retirement. Under his leadership, this division improved the performance of dozens of organizations throughout the United States and Canada while generating significant revenue for the University of Toledo. Earlier in his career, Weinblatt counseled in psychotherapy, education, training, and vocational rehabilitation, serving thousands of individuals. He also managed a private employment consulting career for 20 years, providing job seeking skills training and counseling for many organizations and innumerable individuals. Weinblatt has been a frequent television news guest as an expert on economic, management, and labor force issues, appearing more than 40 times on Toledo television news stations. The rich diversity of his career enables Weinblatt to produce books and novels that draw upon a wide range of sources and contain unforgettable, well-developed characters. Weinblatt continues to write novels, short stories, and articles in retirement. He lives with his wife in Ohio.
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Jacob's Courage - Charles S. Weinblatt
1
JACOB’S NIGHTMARE
It was the end of December 1939. In his bedroom, 17-year-old Jacob Silverman tossed and turned in his bed. A winter storm had dumped new snow overnight upon Salzburg, Austria. In the forest, evergreen trees were bending under the weight. They creaked and moaned with each gust of wind. Smoke drifted up from chimneys in the city, which was surrounded by a sentinel of towering gray mountains.
Sweating profusely, Jacob was disturbed in his sleep by a horrible vision. Under closed lids, his eyes darted in every direction. It was the worst nightmare of his life, as real as waking life, if not more so. In this horrific dream, Jacob was older by several years. He was emaciated; thin as a rail. And he wore a strange costume, gray pajamas with vertical red stripes. A Star of David was emblazoned upon the front. On his head was a cap of the same coarse fabric. He looked around the huge red brick building, filled with acrid smoke and ash; with a gigantic furnace in the middle, like some monstrous freight train, shaking the room. The heat was unbearable, and there was a disgusting odor, not unlike burned meat. An underlying stench was sickly sweet.
Men dressed like Jacob were continuously pushing large objects into the massive fire on mechanical trays. With every movement, ash fell off the men working there, floating slowly to the floor, where it covered the bricks. Some ash got into Jacob’s eyes, inhibiting his vision.
Other men scrambled to bring more of the large things into the room for the fire. They resembled ghosts. The fire itself was so large and intense that it produced a deep thundering sound, shaking the foundations of the building. Jacob was sweating profusely and lightheaded. Overwhelmed with exhaustion, his muscles ached fiercely. He wondered how he could feel such pain when it was only a dream. The pervasive ash was in his nose, his throat and upon his clothes. He found it difficult to breathe, choking on the ubiquitous ash. The heat coming from the gargantuan fire was oppressive. Jacob had never been in a place like this. He held onto a large iron platform, built like a tray with rollers to slide the large objects into the blazing inferno. He could barely see at all.
Through cracks in the wooden ceiling, Jacob could make out a towering chimney, belching out thick clouds of ash and black smoke. Like a monstrous flame atop a gigantic brick candle, the chimney pushed out smoke so thick that he could not tell if it was night or day.
He stared at the men next to him. These men never looked up, continuously feeding the fires. Jacob felt completely alive. His heart was pounding. This deafening theater of the macabre was real as life itself. Glancing at his left arm, he noticed numbers tattooed in dark blue. All the while, the men in stripes pushed and pulled upon the huge bins, continuously delivering the large items into the fire. The things they pushed reminded Jacob of naked, life-size dolls. His vision remained blurry, no matter how many times he wiped his eyes. He could taste the unpleasant ash in his mouth and felt certain that he was about to pass out.
Fierce-looking uniformed men with black helmets and machine guns were shouting at the workers in German. They had the letters SS
upon their collars, in the shape of lightning bolts. Doors were opening and closing in a cacophony of precision. Carts were crashing together. A large open elevator screeched as it moved up and down, and workers carried carts with squealing wheels. Such was the symphony of a place too horrid to imagine.
Jacob wondered why people in dark uniforms were yelling at him in German. Everyone he knew spoke Yiddish. Why would German soldiers be screaming at him? One soldier was irate with Jacob and walking in his direction, his heels clicking loudly upon the concrete floor. Jacob could not imagine why he was in this hellish place or why the German soldier looked so angry with him. He had never been so confused or frightened. He began to realize that he was in immense trouble. Jacob’s eyes darted around the room. He tried to focus on the things that were being carried. The items
being burned were white and gray lumps of something. He rubbed his eyes again and again. As his vision finally cleared somewhat, he was able to gaze into the furnace directly in front of him. Inside the blazing inferno, Jacob saw… human bodies! This reality burst upon Jacob’s fragile mind like an explosion. The fire was filled with burning people! The Germans were burning people and forcing Jews to do the heavy lifting!
Jacob suddenly felt nauseous and began to retch. He doubled over as his stomach cramped. But there was no food to come up. He somehow knew that he had been starved for a long time. A thin, silver stream of mucous dripped from his mouth, falling lazily to the dusty floor. As he focused on the bodies in the fire, Jacob saw that the victims were females of every age. Girls and women – all consumed in flames! Two workers dumped a cart filled with more dead women and girls next to Jacob’s tray. He watched in awe as two men began loading the victims onto a platform. All of them were naked. Their heads had been shaved. Some had a number tattooed on their left arm. With no hair, they looked like large, swollen dolls. Their bodies bounced and wiggled as they were picked up and placed on the trays. Some were soiled with feces and urine. Many had froth or blood coming from their mouths and nostrils. But none of them had bullet holes. Something else had killed them. Jacob’s mind was bending under the weight of this unbelievable terror. The faces of the dead appeared expressionless; their eyes sunken and distant. They stared at him as though waiting for an explanation. Some bodies were purple at the bottom and white on top. Others had tanned faces below white skulls. Jacob’s mind stretched to comprehend this inconceivable panorama.
Jacob closed his eyes tightly and shook his head, fully expecting the nightmare to be over when he opened his eyes again. All the while, that screaming German soldier was walking his way. Jacob blinked hard and opened his eyes, but with the same dreadful result. The vile furnace room remained. And the German soldier was getting closer.
The other men in striped pajamas carried the bodies over their shoulders, on their backs – as though they were carrying huge sacks of grain. The children and babies were carried by an arm or a leg. Jacob was repulsed as he watched those tiny bodies being thrown into stacks or upon the trays. He understood that the babies were dead. Yet, it seemed unnatural and disrespectful to throw bodies around so carelessly. What was happening in this room was virtually unthinkable.
Most of the workers were strong men, although there were a few men in the same striped uniform who seemed fragile. He watched their faces as they scurried about the room performing their various duties. Their faces were like stone, bereft of expression, their eyes cold and distant. They worked furiously, as though their masters’ whips were at their backs. He imagined that each of them had shut out the mindless horror of the task to which they were assigned.
On top of the pile, he saw an old woman, a middle-aged woman, and a girl. The woman and child appeared malnourished. The old woman had deep circles under her eyes and bruises around her body, as if she had been beaten. The girl appeared to be seven or eight years old. Perhaps it was a woman with her daughter and grandchild; their facial features were similar. Their eyes seemed to plead for help. But it was too late for help.
Who are these people? What did they do to deserve this? What right did these Germans have to arbitrarily kill innocent people, particularly women and children? In an instant, Jacob began to wonder if these victims were Jewish. He knew that most of his fellow workers were Jewish. Each had a Star of David on the front of their pajamas.
In his dream, Jacob felt as though he had been there for many months, perhaps for years. In an obscene way, he had become an instrument of human destruction for the Germans. The feeling of guilt was ghastly – beyond description. The emotional pain was unbearable. He had physical pain too. His left knee ached terribly, as though it had been heavily damaged. His life had been reduced to this pathetic existence, in which he fed the fires of evil, destroying the bodies of his own people. He was only allowed to stay alive if there were more Jews to cremate. He could feel his mind splitting, cracking down the middle. Finally, he screamed at the ceiling. Why me, God?
The man next to Jacob was loading bodies onto his tray and pushing them into the fire as fast as he could. As he was doing this, he was softly saying Kaddish, the Jewish prayer for the dead, in Hebrew. Jacob’s heart pounded so hard that he was afraid it would burst through his chest at any moment. How could anyone mastermind something as horrifying as this? Even if Hitler was mad, how could he convince his soldiers to do something so utterly evil? Could a sane person do something this hideous, even with all the German propaganda about Jews?
Somehow, Jacob understood that burning the bodies of his fellow Jews had become the price of remaining alive for a few more days. Underneath this vast torment, Jacob understood that his own death would soon arrive. He knew that the Germans changed the crematoria crew every month or two. Members of the old crew would be killed and burned by the new group. And that is how the system worked, month after month, year after year, until there were no more Jews left to burn. Jacob knew that when the next train arrived with men physically able to do the task, his group would be killed and someone just like him would burn their bodies.
He saw in his mind words that were on the gate above the entrance to this shameful death camp. The wrought iron letters spelled out "Arbeit Macht Frei. How ironic, thought Jacob. The
freedom" promised to Jews was their own death. Just the thought of touching a corpse was sickening. Besides, he was a member of the Kohanim, the priests of Judaism. Just like his father and grandfather, he was forbidden from being in the same room as a dead person, much less touch one.
A terrible thought passed through Jacob’s mind. What if I must burn the body of Rachael or my parents? His sanity was now spinning out of control. Trembling, he was overcome by another wave of nausea. Suddenly, he was pushed very hard from behind. As he fell toward the open furnace, his face was singed. His head came dangerously close to the flames. He could hear the hissing sound of burning hair, followed by that awful smell. The entire right side of his face was scorched. He stretched out his right arm and just barely grasped the tray before falling into the furnace. A wave of pain passed through his body. He fell on the ground, hitting the hot brick floor. This sent a cloud of ash up around him and a stinging pain into his hip. He began coughing as his nostrils filled with ashes.
Jacob crouched on the brick floor and watched as the ash displaced from his fall made slow circles, floating around the room. Bits of ash landed everywhere, on the uniforms of the soldiers, on the faces of workers, on the tray next to him, even on the bodies as they were carried into the room. It reminded Jacob of snowflakes falling gently on a windless winter day.
With astonishment, he realized that he was inhaling all that remained from hundreds of Jews, perhaps thousands! Those tiny bits of ash were the last molecules of all of those innocent people, burned by these Kapos. The realization was like a punch in his stomach. Jacob began to retch again. Nothing came up. His hands and legs trembled. The other workers looked like frightened ghosts in some lurid story. They moved like panicky machines from place to place, turning other Jews into tiny bits of grayish ash. Like his biblical predecessor, he came to understand that God had a plan for him; its significance not yet fully understood.
The German soldier that had been screaming at Jacob finally arrived. He looked like any other young German soldier. In his late twenties, he was tall, with blond hair tucked neatly into his helmet. His blue eyes glared at Jacob, burning into him. The soldier looked quite formidable, with his black helmet, black uniform, flashing SS collar, machine gun and neatly holstered Luger pistol. Jacob could not hear the words of the German soldier. In fact, he could hear nothing except the fire. He had been made temporarily deaf from his encounter with the furnace door. The soldier stopped screaming and slowly removed his Luger from its holster. The German drew his gun and moved toward Jacob, staring at him with indignant admonition. The look on the Nazi’s face suggested he was ready to act. He screamed at in German. Jacob noticed casually that his accent had a touch of Saxony.
What is it with you filthy Jews?
scowled the tall young man with piercing blue eyes. Do you think you’re here for a vacation?
With that, the soldier pointed his Lugar at Jacob’s head. Jacob realized with sudden trepidation that this would be his last moment alive. His heart was pounding out of his chest. Blood was rushing through his ears and he had tinnitus. Perspiration formed tiny droplets on the back of his hands. He looked around at the other men, who continued working while staring at him in solemn, heartrending silence. Behind him, the immense red brick furnace continued to roar. The SS soldier aimed the gun at Jacob’s temple. Everything seemed to slow down. Even the Kapos moved more slowly. Jacob’s eyes traveled around the smoky room.
With the steady movement of someone who had done this many times, the German backed away as far as possible to avoid getting Jew blood on his handsome black uniform. Jacob watched in terror as the soldier’s finger slowly squeezed the trigger. The gun fired. Jacob was deafened by the sound, despite the din of the furnace. A swath of flame and smoke left the gun’s barrel. Jacob felt a huge jolt of pain in his head. Velvety darkness gradually encased him in a vacuum from which nothing could emerge. He became nothing within impenetrable darkness.
Deep in this darkness, Jacob heard a voice. At first it was so faint that he could barely hear it at all. Slowly, the voice drew closer to Jacob. Someone was calling to him and he recognized the voice. It was his mother! She was demanding something from him. She was telling him to get up. His ears were still ringing from the gunshot. Jacob struggled to find his mother in the dark, but he understood that he had to save her from this horrible fate. He struggled mightily, but he could not move.
Time passed and Jacob tried to move again, this time with some limited success. His legs stirred. He pushed as hard as he could to stand up. Soon, he could move his arms. He pushed and then pushed again. This time, he was able to sit upright. He opened his eyes and saw light!
Jacob awoke with a shudder, covered in sweat. His heart was pounding so hard that his chest hurt. Sick to his stomach, he retched twice but managed to avoid vomiting. Moments later, he heard his mother calling to him. Jacob! Come on now! Get out of bed. Breakfast is almost ready!
Jacob sat up in his bed, breathless, perspiring and trembling. He thought about how his parents had been fighting over whether they should leave Austria. Suddenly, the idea seemed to possess undeniable merit. It was a moment of epiphany. Still overcome by his nightmare, something deep inside told Jacob that his life was about to change in a very significant way. He understood that something was in motion that could not be stopped. Some strange destiny was calling to Jacob, but he had no idea what he was supposed to do. Therefore, he did what any adolescent would do. He put it out of his mind, preferring to think of more enjoyable aspects of life. That meant charming, bright, talented and beautiful Rachael Goldberg, the object of his overwhelming affection.
2
THE DARKNESS ARRIVES
The dreary winter of 1939–1940 came early in the Austrian Alps. Thick, gray snow clouds rushed through the dark forest on their way to the frosty cliffs above. It was as though nature was preparing itself for the onslaught of terror soon to follow – freezing itself from the approaching evil. In the cold mountains near Salzburg, the world slept peacefully. Yet, horror was on the horizon.
The Nazis had arrived less than a year before, capturing Austria with hardly a whimper. They promised a better future for everyone; except Jews, and certain other undesirables.
Had the Silverman family known what was about to happen, they would have run away as fast as their legs could carry them. But no one could imagine the terror that awaited the Salzburg Jews. They were about to become engulfed by the darkest, most despicable episode of mass murder in history. For them, 1939 marked the beginning of the end. Despite countless warning signs and begging relatives, the Silverman family stayed in Europe when they should have left. Dr. Moshe Silverman could have saved himself, his wife Hanna and their precious son, Jacob. Like so many others, he assumed that the Nazi threat was only temporary. I must stay with my patients
was his persistent refrain. This decision would haunt Moshe Silverman until his death.
Jacob and his parents lived in a nicely furnished apartment in Salzburg. In most respects, they were a typical upper middle-class Austrian family. Moshe is a well-respected physician. His wife, Hanna, volunteers with the community food bank, the public school, and the one small synagogue. Their son, Jacob, is a typical teenager. In his last year of secondary school, Jacob is planning for a career in medicine, like his father.
Jacob was head-over-heels in love with Rachael Goldberg, a gorgeous classmate whose father was also a physician in Salzburg. They attended the same school, often in the same classes. Like their friends, they are busy planning for their careers – their university life. And like all adolescents, they explore their passions, desires, and dreams. Despite Nazi threats against Jews living in Austria, Jacob and Rachael basked in these wonderful days of youth and love.
Of course, Jacob and Rachael were not oblivious to what was going on around them. They heard propaganda speeches by Hitler, Goebbels, Himmler, and other Nazi leaders that blamed all the problems of the world on Jews. They knew that Hitler had a vision for Aryan
people, who were destined to rule the world.
They understood that Hitler needed to use Jews as a scapegoat to help achieve his concept of world domination.
To make people hate Jews, Hitler used propaganda to paint an incorrect picture of Jewish wealth against the backdrop of Christian Germans suffering after World War I. Jews suffered as badly as Christians when the economy failed. For centuries, Christian clergy had been pushing antisemitic tropes upon their congregants. People began to believe the lies. Now no one wanted to fight Nazi policy. With no army to defend them, Jews represented the perfect scapegoat. Hitler’s propaganda effort was entirely successful. Everyone hated Jews, it seemed.
Government policy soon forbade Jews from owning property. By late 1939, Jewish doctors could no longer practice medicine in German hospitals or see Christian patients. Jewish lawyers and judges were similarly forbidden from practicing law. Jewish professors were fired from universities and teachers from schools. Then, through forced relocation, Jews were moved into very small undesirable parts of each city. These ghettos
were filthy, had little or no running water or electricity. Into these decrepit ghettos, Jews were locked, with no freedom in sight.
Dozens of Jews were forced to live in a small space unfit for one family. The squalid, cramped conditions were unbearable. They were forced to wear a yellow Star of David on their clothing and were soon barred from cafés, cinema, theaters, grocery stores, and other public places. They could shop only after store hours, when the aisles were empty. Jews could no longer ride buses and were forced to stand in the back of trains. German soldiers around the ghetto maintained a strict curfew. Jews had become an enemy of the government and the people.
The Jew-hating propaganda that dominated German social consciousness spread like wildfire throughout Austria. Jacob was surprised at how quickly Austrians refused to speak with their Jewish friends and neighbors; many even spied upon them for the Gestapo. Even cultured Austrians now regarded Jews with misgiving.
Jacob and his Jewish friends had become public targets for hatred and violence. Most of the Christian children of Salzburg went to a new summer camp in 1939, run by Nazi propagandists. They returned to their homes changed in a very dark way. High school aged Brown Shirts
routinely berated and beat younger Jewish children on the city streets. Synagogues throughout Germany and Austria were burned. Jewish-owned stores were torched more frequently. Deprived of work, homes, bank accounts and permission to travel, the Jews of Salzburg were on a fast track to obliteration.
Well-known European Jews, such as Albert Einstein, had made no secret of why they had abandoned Europe. Were those families jumping the gun? Did they really need to leave? Would not the current danger pass soon? Jacob’s father, Moshe, seemed to think that the Nazis would eventually give up on Jew-hating. But Jacob had become increasingly troubled about gaining admittance to a university of his choice.
It was Saturday, and Jacob prepared to go to synagogue with his parents. He wondered if many people would be there given the weather. Gazing at the white-capped mountains surrounding his city, Jacob asked himself why anyone would ever want to leave it. It was where all his family and friends lived. He felt glad to live in beautiful Salzburg, reminding himself how fortunate he was that his father has a good income.
Two years ago, Jacob and Rachael had fallen deeply in love. While he had considered the possibility that people his age often lust after girls, Jacob was not at all confused. This was love in its purest form.
He and Rachael had been together almost constantly for the past year. They had begun kissing, generating a sexual excitement that neither of them completely understood. Jacob could see love in Rachael’s eyes too. Those sparkling large brown eyes pulled at Jacob as surely as gravity. Some grand chemical explosion had taken place within them and they were madly, passionately, intensely in love. He never imagined that another human being could so completely capture his heart and his mind. It felt frightening enchanting, and wonderful. The world was theirs for the taking.
Jacob sat in the living room with his father, waiting for his mother so that they could leave for the synagogue. He hated being late for anything. However, it allowed time for an important conversation. The radio was on, broadcasting another Nazi speech cursing Jews as the cause of every possible evil or sin. Jacob wondered if people really believed this nonsense.
He and his father sat in anxious silence as the radio announcer droned on and on in his deep, metallic voice: Germany is united in stamping out the Jewish menace, who daily poison our lives with their greed and deceitfulness. For too many generations the good Aryan people have allowed the Jewish traitors to live amongst us. But we will no longer tolerate their social and political treachery. Jews are the greatest evil in Europe. Their minions have plans within plans, along with their communist brethren, to take over the world. Every good citizen of Europe should point out the dastardly Jew and make him pay for what he has done to us. See who has the money that starving Aryans deserve. Yes, while the good, hard-working Aryan people of Europe starve, the Jews live in luxury. They have moved into our cities and towns and stolen our money. Greed and deceit are their way. Yes, Jews everywhere plot to control good Aryan people. They plot against us constantly.
Jacob and his father looked at each other with horrified expressions. The announcer continued, unabated. Your government has taken bold action to eliminate the Jewish danger. As I speak today, labor camps are being built to house the Jewish menace. They must wear their Star of David everywhere, so that we may protect our children from their evil influence. We know it to be true that Jews carry lice and they spread disease among us. They are truly vermin. The Jew serves the devil himself. Therefore, we must punish Jews. We must move them away from our dear Aryan children, least they poison our precious offspring with their mindless betrayal. Jews are parasites. They are the lowest form of life. As such, they do not deserve to live amongst us. We will never surrender in our glorious fight to punish the evil Jew.
Moshe finally had enough. He walked over to the radio and turned it off, wearing an expression of sorrow. Jacob noted with sadness how his father’s posture was now slumped where it had once been upright.
With each speech, Jews had become less safe in Salzburg. During the past few months there had been an increase in crimes against Jews. Jewish-owned businesses were smashed and burned. The municipal firemen made no effort to rescue a burning Jewish structure. Jewish physicians found fewer and fewer patients in their waiting rooms. Customers disappeared at all types of Jewish stores. Accountants and lawyers found themselves serving only Jews. Life was changing rapidly. And while Jacob had complete trust in his father, he began to wonder if it was too late to escape. For the first time in his life, Jacob was truly frightened.
Father,
he asked softly, are we really leaving Austria? Have you found passage for us to another country?
Hanna lectured Moshe about the need to escape, but Moshe had fought against her desire to emigrate. Jacob suddenly realized that his mother could be right. Moshe looked briefly at Jacob and then down at the floor. He seemed preoccupied. I’ve tried at least a dozen embassies. It seems like no country will admit Jews at this time. Their quotas are filled for this year and next year – or so they say. Some people say that Jews are safe in Hungary. I will try them again next.
As Jews were driven out of their homes and into deplorable ghettos, their bank accounts and businesses were stolen by the government, as were their art, jewelry, and valuable heirlooms. Deportation of Jews to labor and death camps in the East was a constant threat. As soon as Jews were forced out of their homes, Nazis claimed their property for themselves.
As he sat with his father and listened to the Nazi diatribe on the radio, Jacob sank into despair. His thoughts drifted back in time three years, to his first real punishment at the hands of Nazi youth.
He was 15 years old, walking home from school with his friends Isaac and Saul. They were younger; ten and 12. Since they lived in the same apartment building, they walked home together. The journey home was typically boring, accompanied by broken conversation and on some days, extreme cold. The three boys exchanged small talk, although none of them considered each other close friends. Then, one day, the Brown Shirts arrived. Everything changed after that. Just thinking about it made Jacob shiver.
One cold day after school, Jacob and two younger Jewish students were walking home when they were spotted by a group of Brown Shirts. Jacob told them to split up and run away into places where there were people. Meanwhile, Jacob attracted the attention of the Brown Shirts and persuaded them to run after him, instead of his younger companions.
Jacob ran as fast as he could for block after block, until eventually his legs felt like they were on fire. Each time he inhaled; he felt a stitch in his right side. Despite the freezing temperatures, he was sweating profusely. His heart pounded. He ran past Steinhousergasse, hoping to see some traffic. There were no people in any direction. He ran toward another major street. In order to get there, Jacob had to go through an alley. He could now hear the boys behind him gasping for air. The freezing cold air seemed incapable of supplying any of them with enough oxygen.
The pain of running became an agony of tremendous proportion. Jacob could barely feel his legs. The pain in his side was overpowering. He tried to focus on the traffic that was just ahead. Every few seconds, a car or truck passed into view. He was so close now, only another 50 meters to freedom and safety! As Jacob reached the middle of the alley, his left leg clipped a rain gutter on the side of a butcher shop. He tripped.
Jacob flew sideways with his arms and legs spinning uncontrollably. It seemed strange to be totally airborne. A vista of objects passed by. He saw the white stucco walls of the butcher shop, then he saw the sky filled with puffy clouds and eventually the red brick wall of the pub appeared to the side of the alley. In uncontrollable flight, he fell into a large garbage can. The lid shot out to the left, spinning through the air like some alien spacecraft. As he landed, his head brought about a prodigious dent in the middle of the can.
Jacob lay on the freezing ground of the alley, gasping for breath. Trash was scattered around him. He could smell the rancid odor of rotten meat. He knew that he should get up and run. The sound of traffic on the nearby street was like a hum from heaven. He tried to lift his legs only to find that they would not obey. He wondered briefly if he had damaged his spine in falling. Unable to move, Jacob lay on the ground, grateful that he could at least catch his breath.
Hey kike,
screamed a boy that Jacob knew was Karl Jurgens.
He was 16, tall and thin. But he was also powerful. Jacob recalled running against him in a track meet the previous year. Kike, why did you run?
Karl was literally foaming at the mouth as he screamed these words at Jacob. Spittle flew from his mouth, floating in the breeze before falling to the ground. Karl kicked Jacob as hard as he could, crushing a rib on Jacob’s right side. He howled in agony. Karl continued to rant and kick as Jacob tried to protect himself. The stitch in his side was nothing compared to the agony of the broken rib. Why are you doing this to me, Karl?
asked Jacob. We were friends in school. What did I do to deserve this?
Three other boys arrived, trying to catch their breath. They saw how Karl had kicked Jacob and they smiled, wanting some of that action. One of them approached from the left. Jacob believed that his name was Otto. He was larger than Karl.
What are you good for, you stinking Jew?
said Otto. Kick him again, Karl!
Karl shot an angry glance at Otto and snarled, Don’t use my name, you idiot!
Otto laughed. He already knows who you are, stupid!
He then drew his leg back and kicked Jacob as hard as he could.
Jacob’s lower back exploded in pain. He knew that the boys would aim for his ribs to maximize the damage. He brought his arm down quickly and caught a blow with his upper arm.
We know what to do with filthy Jews like you,
screamed Otto. You people have no right to live here. You are scum. You are shit. You are worse than insects.
Otto continued to scream insults at Jacob as rapidly as he could think of them.
Karl returned to kicking him while swearing. One of the kicks smashed a rib on Jacob’s left side. Karl continued to kick the same place until blood began to flow from Jacob’s nostrils and mouth.
Otto looked down at the garbage on the ground. He grabbed a pile in his gloved hands. It included old, moldy vegetables and pieces of maggoty sausage as well as cigarette and cigar butts and ashes. Look at it,
screamed Otto. Jacob stared at the tiny white worms crawling in the sausage. Otto smiled as he looked back down at Jacob. This is what you are. You Jews are garbage. You are all trash.
His spit landed on Jacob’s cheek. It felt warm and soft.
Hold him,
said Otto to his colleagues and began to shove the garbage into Jacob’s mouth.
Jacob was overwhelmingly repulsed. The more he tried to spit it out, the harder Otto pushed it in. Jacob’s stomach cramped. He retched and a stream of vomit followed. This action blessedly forced Otto a few feet away. Jacob was devastated, emotionally and physically. The pain from his broken ribs was agonizing. It seared through his chest like daggers with each breath. Bright red blood flowed from his nostrils down the front of his face to his neck, where it pooled. For a moment he thought how good it would feel to be dead. His mouth was filled with blood. He discovered that the pain was not as horrible if he took very shallow breaths. Gazing up at the steel-gray winter sky, a delicate white snowflake drifted in the air, landing on a nearby juniper branch. It sparkled in the opaque light of the afternoon before tumbling slowly to the ground. Jacob wondered how life could be so beautiful and so horrible at the same time.
Karl, who had been silent for a while, returned. He was carrying a stick with something on the end. Jacob’s vision was becoming dim. Solid objects seemed to sway by themselves. Karl whispered something to Otto. They shared a brief laugh and again approached Jacob, punching him hard on his ears. Tinnitus soon followed.
Jacob’s ears were ringing so loudly, he had trouble hearing what his tormentors were saying. Only some of the words came through. You Jews are shit,
screamed Karl. Do you know that, filthy kike? People who are shit should eat it.
Karl continued to scream, but Jacob was slipping into darkness.
Hey Karl, he’s got a lot of blood coming out. I think he’s hurt badly,
said a voice that Jacob recognized to be Leo, another local Christian boy. Someone pushed the end of the stick into his mouth. When Jacob smelled the feces, he knew that it was real. He retched again, although this time nothing emerged except a string of red mucous. He spat as best he could. When he opened his eyes, he saw that his new coat was covered in blood and garbage. He waited for the peace of death. Go get some more,
one of the boys said.
Jacob coughed and bright red drops flew from his mouth and nostrils. A large bubble of blood lay upon the end of his left nostril. Like a tiny red balloon, it inflated and deflated with each breath. Turning sideways, he spat out a huge mouthful of bright red blood. It fell onto the pristine white snow, sparkling as it rapidly melted through it. As the world swam around him, Jacob wished for death. His pain had become unbearable.
Hey, what are you boys doing there?
Moments later, the wide face of a large man wearing a huge white apron appeared above Jacob. The man held what appeared to be a meat cleaver. Was it the local butcher? Darkness was fast overtaking Jacob as he remained on the frozen ground. Each breath was a struggle now, with ever more blood emerging from his nostrils. Finally, the world disappeared completely.
Jacob woke up in the hospital, recovering from one of the most violent beatings that the hospital staff could recall seeing. The Brown Shirt gang was never punished for beating him within an inch of his life. In fact, he was forced to leave the hospital early because it no longer served Jews. Nevertheless, Jacob’s friends had made it to safety that day. He was grateful for that.
Jacob heard his father calling his name again. Are you all right, Jacob?
He realized that he had been wandering in the past. He blinked hard and brought himself back into the present. There were always fresh rumors at the synagogue about Jewish relatives in other cities who had been sent by the Germans to labor camps, to be used for the war effort. Now there were whispers and dark rumors of much worse treatment. It was difficult to account for relatives who seemed to have suddenly disappeared from the labor
camps, without letters or forwarding addresses.
Something evil was at work in Europe and for Jacob it came in the guise of brown-shirted youth and new laws that made Jews non-citizens. This malevolent infection of hate had taken hold in Austrian culture, spreading like some terrible virus, making common citizens mistrust and hate their innocent neighbors. The peaceful isolation provided by Salzburg’s white-capped mountains could not protect the city’s Jews from the coming disaster.
Jacob, Rachael and his close friends had tempted fate by trying to trick German soldiers. They even toyed with the newest terror of Salzburg, the Gestapo: Hitler’s secret police. Jacob and Rachael were not only talented musicians, they also spoke different languages. They removed the Star of David from their clothing and visited coffeehouses, pubs and bars, disguising themselves as Christian visitors. There, they spoke a foreign language to confuse the Germans. It was a silly game that made them feel as though they had some imaginary influence over the brutal Hun.
As time passed, they became increasingly bold, making insulting and derogatory remarks about the Germans and their culture. During the winter of 1939–1940, Jacob and Rachael were at their best, flaunting their fluency in other languages and pretending not to understand German.
Had the Germans known that these hormonal adolescents were Jewish, Jacob and his friends would have been arrested on the spot and sent to a prison camp. But they passed themselves off well, at first. The only problem was that they had to remember which language and dialect they used at which coffeehouse or bar and in the presence of which Germans. If it was Bavarian at the Ram’s Horn Inn the first time, it must be Bavarian every time. They knew that the Germans were listening, and a mistake would be caught.
With time and practice, they learned to identify Germans by unit, rank and sometimes by name. Regular Wehrmacht soldiers wore gray uniforms, whereas the SS wore black uniforms. And the Gestapo usually wore black trench coats. That is, unless they were operating undercover, in which case they wore civilian clothing. Jacob and Rachael were, at first, fascinated with the Gestapo. Too late, they realized that they were playing with fire.
They sounded like actors rehearsing badly in public. The Gestapo often stared at them with open contempt. And while Jacob and Rachael laughed all the way home after such escapades, their plan had one major fault. They had not anticipated that the same German soldier or spy might attend different establishments, sometimes in disguise.
For almost a year, Jacob and Rachael were uproariously successful in passing themselves off as foreigners or as cultured, vacationing Germans, Russians, French or Austrians. By October 1940, they were so good at this that they began to invite some of their friends from school to watch them perform.
Unbeknownst to them, one Gestapo officer, Lieutenant Johan Müller, was observant enough to notice that Rachael spoke with a perfect Bavarian accent one night in one bar, and yet spoke only French in another bar just two nights later. One evening, he saw that their coats had pieces of gold thread where a Jew would have displayed the Star of David. He was now certain that the two teenagers were Jews.
One cold, rainy evening, in March 1939, he felt ready to test his theory. Rachael stood at the bar in the Hotel Caspian, where she pretended to be a visitor from France. She had two fresh mugs of beer, one in each hand. As she turned around to return to her table, a strong arm grabbed her from behind. She swiveled to see a large man in a brown business suit holding onto her with a grip that meant business.
I am Lieutenant Müller of the Gestapo. Perhaps you could tell me why you spoke fluent German only two nights ago at the Ram’s Horn Inn and now seem only to speak French.
Rachael was frozen with fear. She had seen him before, but always in a Gestapo uniform. Her heart was pounding. It wasn’t a game any longer. The iron grip on her arm tightened, cutting off circulation. She winced at the pain. Show me your papers,
demanded Müller.
Neither Jacob nor Rachael had foreseen the need for false papers. Her own papers revealed a Jewish identity through a large red J
. She looked at Jacob for help. But Jacob was deeply engrossed in a pretend conversation in Russian with his friend Saul. Rachael’s head was swimming with fear. She looked around in the bar and quickly estimated no fewer than 12 German soldiers, plus two SS officers near the door. She mentally screamed to Jacob for help.
Müller began shouting at her, demanding her papers. Rachael, still playing her game, responded in French as though she did not understand. Perspiration dripped down the side of her face. She was dizzy and feared that she would faint. The room seemed to be spinning. Müller slapped her face hard enough to draw blood from her nose. I said, show me your papers!
he screamed.
Her plight was beginning to attract attention. The room was spinning faster. She wished that she had not consumed two beers; they had gone to her head. She fought off fainting as hard as possible, knowing that she would wake up at Gestapo headquarters if she were to pass out. She shook her head from side to side and blinked hard.
The Gestapo officer asked, Is that your friend over there?
He pointed directly at Jacob. Rachael desperately wanted to protect Jacob. But Müller had seen them together at the other pub, she was certain of it. Jacob looked up and saw that the Gestapo had captured Rachael. His heart fluttered up into his throat and seemed to skip a beat or two. A wave of nausea passed over him. No one was more important than Rachael and he would do anything for her. He said something to Saul, who slowly got up from his chair and began walking to the exit, glancing at the SS officers near the door.
With a calm demeanor, Jacob stood up, put his coat on, grabbed Rachael’s coat and walked toward the bar. At the same time, he saw Müller motion to someone near the door. Turning slowly, Jacob saw that the two SS officers had positioned themselves so as to block the doorway. They were trapped. Saul stood motionless, in no-man’s-land.
Jacob’s mind whirred as he walked to the bar. To capitulate was not possible. Over the noise of the crowd, he heard Müller say, You Jews will burn for doing this.
Jacob had never been able to shake off the dreadful nightmare in which he had been forced to burn dead Jews at a Nazi death camp. He stopped, toe to toe with Müller, staring directly into his steel-gray eyes.
In Rachael’s mind, time had suddenly slowed down. She marveled at Jacob’s bravery. Rachael understood that he would always defend her, even with his own life. For that, she loved him even more deeply than ever before. Jacob grabbed the two mugs from Rachael’s hands and flung them into Müller’s face. At the same moment, he shoved Rachael’s coat into her hands and grabbed her right arm. As they turned to run, Jacob took a moment to glance back at Müller, who was now clutching his face and shaking his head.
With Müller temporarily blinded, and with Rachael in tow, Jacob ran behind the bar to the hallway leading to the kitchen. He prayed that there was another exit. They ran past lavatories on the left, bumping into a fat old man coming out, pulling on his zipper. He yelled something at them. Jacob pushed his way past waiters into the kitchen. They raced through the bustling kitchen, shoving people aside. Pots and pans flew as they bumped into preoccupied cooks and waiters, some balancing several plates simultaneously. Everyone, it seemed, was screaming at them in anger.
As they reached the end of an aisle, Jacob turned sharply left and Rachael slipped to the floor. She slid into a glossy metal cabinet, staring at her reflection as it grew ever larger upon the shiny surface. Jacob reached down to help her. Glancing up, he saw Müller enter the kitchen. Beer was dripping from his hair and face. Two SS soldiers were with him. Müller pulled a Luger from its holster.
Everyone dropped to the floor, except Jacob and Rachael. Without thinking, Jacob grabbed a huge pot from the stove. Using both hands, he threw the pot and its boiling contents upon the angry Gestapo officer. Müller screamed with surprise, anger, and pain. He clutched his face, dropping the gun, which clattered to the floor at Rachael’s feet.
She quickly grabbed the gun, gave it to Jacob, and ran with him around the corner. To their great relief, a doorway appeared directly in front of them. They ran for it, only to see it blocked by a very large, red-faced, and angry chef. The Bohemian chef was about 40 years old, with huge muscles, a very thick moustache, and a nasty expression. He held a large meat cleaver in his right hand. Furious about damage to the kitchen and the long wait for food that his customers would now endure, he glared down at them with a fearsome expression.
Turning around, Jacob saw that Müller was now on his feet again. His face was as red as a tomato. He looked like someone who had been very badly sunburned.
Jacob pointed the gun at the chef. Move,
he yelled. But the chef simply glared at them. Move or I’ll shoot,
screamed Jacob. Still, the chef held his ground. Jacob pointed the gun up, over the chef’s head, and cocked the trigger. He intended only a warning shot. He pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Helplessly, he looked all over the gun, searching for a safety. Jacob had fired a rifle in Boy Scout camp, but he had never held a pistol. There was a very small lever near the handle. He tried it and it moved about half an inch, with a satisfying click. He again squeezed the trigger. This time the result was a deafening explosion. The bullet ricochet off counters and cupboards as everyone in the kitchen ducked in fear.
At the doorway, Jacob turned and saw Müller still bearing down on them. He resembled a red-faced lobster man. His shirt had come untucked and particles of food clung to his face and coat. His arms were pumping as he attempted to gain speed. But Müller was overweight and not very fast. Jacob fired another shot over everyone’s head. As Müller tried to drop to the floor, he fell directly upon his substantial rear end, sliding helplessly across the floor. Jacob saw two nearby cooks laughing as he grabbed Rachael and dashed out the door. They ran as fast as they could through dark alleys. Fortunately, it was a moonless night. They could hear the SS officers running behind them. They blew whistles and screamed at each other. But Jacob and Rachael knew every inch of the city and the Germans did not. Finally, they stopped in an alleyway to rest. They could still hear the commotion they had caused in the distance.
Gasping for air, Rachael whispered to Jacob, What about Saul? They saw him sitting with you!
Rachael, there’s nothing we can do for Saul now. Let’s just hope that he somehow found his way out in the commotion.
They sat underneath the doorway to a large furniture factory, trying to catch their breath.
Rachael took Jacob’s face in her hands and kissed him full on the lips. That’s for saving me,
she whispered hoarsely. Her eyes were glistening. Jacob, meanwhile, was deep in thought. Every nerve in his body was tingling. He looked at his beautiful Rachael and smiled. But it was a tentative smile.
What is it, Jacob? What’s bothering you?
asked Rachael.
Jacob reasoned that there were only two people in which he could confide everything. One was his beloved father. The other was Rachael, his soulmate. Rachael, I find this hard to describe. Because of what we did tonight, I feel different. When I fired the gun in the tavern, it felt somehow like the right thing to do. Oh Rachael, I don’t know how to say this, but it feels as though something deep inside of me is awakening. A new destiny is calling to me. I feel as though I am supposed to do something important.
His voice dropped to a whisper. I feel as though I am supposed to lead men into a battle for survival. I think that my destiny is to fight the Germans, but I’m not sure how, where, when or with what weapons.
He kicked absently at a nearby rock, causing it to tumble into a thicket of dead weeds. Whatever happened tonight, it was a signal. Somehow, somewhere, I am to be a leader. I feel this deep in my bones, Rachael. I have no experience with weapons or warfare. I have never been a leader. As God is my witness, I know that my destiny is to fight back at the Germans, who have made our lives miserable.
He looked up into Rachael’s eyes. Something has begun that is very terrible. I am beginning to understand that my nightmare was a warning from God. We must prepare for a future in which fighting back may be the only way that we can stay alive.
Rachael offered a flicker of a smile and put her arms around him. She squeezed him tightly and whispered in his ear, Whatever happens, Jacob, I will be at your side.
To their great relief, Saul was in school the next day. He had been able to sneak out of the front door when everyone was chasing Jacob and Rachael from the back of the inn. This marked the final time that Jacob and Rachael would deliberately provoke the Germans.
3
UNDYING LOVE
Jacob’s infatuation with Rachael swiftly became mature love. His thoughts rarely strayed from her shapely figure, perfect face, and silky black hair. She was so very intelligent. And her personality was enchanting. From the moment Jacob first gazed into her dreamy brown eyes; he was captivated. Later, he would tell people that something deep inside pulled him to Rachael.
Although he greatly loved his parents, Jacob had not experienced such a powerful and complex love. Every minute without Rachael was painful. She pulled upon the fabric of his soul with an unexpected force. Each time that he saw Rachael, they became more intimate. Within just a few months, they were deeply and completely in love. They were soulmates.
Rachael, her younger sister Anna, and her father, Ariel, had moved to Salzburg from Munich four years earlier. Rachael’s mother had died during a virulent influenza epidemic in 1937. Despite having a good income and a very nice apartment, Ariel was despondent. Everything about their home in Munich reminded him of his wife, Greta. So, he decided to look for a hospital posting elsewhere. When the Salzburg St. Johannes Hospital advertised an opening for an orthopedic surgeon in 1937, he jumped at the opportunity.
Ariel and his daughters fell in love with the rare beauty of Salzburg. It was geographically and culturally very different from the big city environment of Munich.
Moshe, one of the most skilled and respected physicians in Salzburg, became Ariel’s closest friend and confidant. It was Moshe’s personality that endeared him to everyone. He was extremely gentle, kind, bright and softspoken. Moshe and Ariel were soon spending weekends and evenings together. Rachael and Jacob, who were only a few months apart in age, became close friends.
By coincidence, both Jacob and Rachael played string instruments. Jacob, like his mother, played the violin. Rachael played viola. They enjoyed many pleasing evenings together playing sonatas and duets by Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach. They loved to play Mozart’s Sinfonia Concertante in E-Flat, created for violin and viola and thus a perfect choice. Their love of Mozart turned into frequent entertainment for family and friends. And why not? Mozart was born in Salzburg.
Jacob’s talent was superior. He had been playing the violin since he was a small child. By his eighth birthday, he was taking lessons from the concertmaster of the Salzburg Symphony Orchestra. He still had the hands of a child, and cursed himself for having such small fingers. However, his mother was persistent, and Jacob excelled over his classmates. By the time he was ten, Jacob played as well or better than most secondary school students. His parents wanted him to go to a music conservatory in Paris. There, along with other remarkably talented youth, he would become one of the most talented violinists in Europe. Jacob,