Amir Gutfreund - Our Holocaust

“One day, when there was great hunger, this Jew from Koźminek decided to attach himself to me. He stood close to my body and for a moment I thought that was it — a knife and I would be done for. He had a thieving look in his eyes, which led me to believe that it would be him, of all the men in our gang, who would overcome the force of the rumors and rob me for my potatoes. But the Jew from Koźminek, it turned out, was seeking my wellbeing. Standing close to me, his words crazed, frightened, he was actually trying to warn me:

“‘In our circle… hmm …they think about you, nu …Where did you come from? And some believe we should… nu , in the neck…there are youths here…’

“He was trying to tell me that my life was in danger, and at the hands of whom?! The rumors protected me from regular thieves, but the underground, the people who acted in the name of ideology, considered me a target. Oh dear! Why did Ahasuerus bring these troubles on me? He could have left me at some distance from the town, where I would have ended up wherever I ended up. What did he care? I knew my condition was grave. I did not know how grave it was yet to become.

“In the meantime, something of note occurred. The chairman of the Lodz ghetto Judenrat, Rumkowski, the “Elder of the Jews,” who lorded over the small kingdom of two hundred thousand ghetto subjects, summoned me to see him. He wanted to talk. The most important of the ghetto Jews, the ‘president,’ as we were required to call him, invited a lonesome Jew of the Wesoła Street wanderers to his room.

“He talked to me for a long time, trying to figure me out. If I were an agent, how did he not know? There were agents about whom the Gestapo notified Rumkowski, and others, if the Gestapo hid them from him, Rumkowski the fox uncovered on his own. And me? Who was I? He stared at me. An elderly man with a strong face. He asked where I had come from, what I did. He chatted about himself and the troubles of his kingdom. And all this time his eyes were watching me, wondering who I was. A cunning and wise man, this Rumkowski was. Some say he was bad for the Jews, some say he did great things for them, finding himself between a rock and a hard place. Who can judge? He met his end in Auschwitz too, may God avenge his blood. With me he was relaxed. He asked if my life in the ghetto was adequate, if I was finding nourishment, if I was treated well by his subordinates. He asked how he could help. I gave him a detailed description of Feiga, which he wrote down, and he said his people could make enquires in nearby ghettos.

“All this time I wondered — should I confess? Open my heart to this grandfatherly Jew and tell him that I was no agent and no nothing? Should I restore myself to the people of Israel, or cloak myself in secrecy and preserve the confusion? After all, it was only my secret that protected me from the robbers, like a coat of armor. Perhaps I could give him my money to keep? German and Polish bills were forbidden in the ghetto and were of no use in any case. But I did not reveal it to him. Not a thing. I went back to the street, and he, in his office, was left wondering who I was.

“I kept roaming here and there through the streets. A lonesome Jew, longing for life. Thieves in pursuit, murderers lurking for the money hidden deep in my coat pocket. I could not spend a penny of Ahasuerus’s treasure. And whom did I fear? The underground youths. I did not want to die like an agent, a traitor. Better to be killed by a robber, better tuberculosis, typhus. Every young man who came in my direction looked like an assassin to me. I tried to find ways to contact the underground — perhaps I would knock on their door and settle the misunderstanding. Take the entire treasure out of my coat pocket and say, Here, all my money can go to your cause. But what door could I knock on? How could I, the chief of agents, find out on the streets where the underground met? Nu , what an affair!

“One day there was a chance of sorts. On Dolna Street, I happened to meet a man by the name of Yanek Leib, a Jew of short stature who used to be in our gang of misfits and then disappeared. A peculiar sort of Jew. His eyes were extremely large, made even more pronounced by a pair of bushy eyebrows. From the first I had sensed something odd about him, as if despite spending time with us, he did not wish for human company, only needed it so he would not stray too far. He was silent when he was with us, his head bowed, and he never made any efforts to introduce himself. If he was forced to talk, he would immediately grow anxious, emitting sort of ‘humpf humpf’ noises between his words, waving his hands, wishing to finish his piece in any way possible. He behaved as if a secret were burdening him and he was afraid it would escape — he could not find anyone to share his secret with. Then he found me.

“When I met him he was in a fever, walking towards me as energetically as a defense attorney hurrying to defend the town dignitaries in court. When I enquired as to his destination, he at first tried to conceal his excitement, as if our meetings were a daily occurrence — why would today be anything special? But within a moment or two his appearance changed. He wanted to tell me something right away. I have already told you that, sadly, ordinary Jews, regular people, kept their distance from me, while certain characters stuck to me. And Yanek Leib, he was the greatest of characters. He sat me on an odd-looking staircase that was not connected to any building, serving only the backsides of two conversationalists. He began to talk. Then he stopped. He inhaled, as if trying out his words. He whispered, ‘humpf humpf,’ preparing his vocal chords. Finally he looked at me.

“‘I am a simple Galician, as you know. Yanek Leib, from the township of Okhanow. From a young age I aspired to reach great distances, humpf, and great distances I have reached…’

“He briefly scanned my face. Was his story making an impression? Then he hurried on, likely short of time.

“‘I was a merchant’s apprentice and an aid to a tzaddik , and also, forgive me, I was a thief. Humpf. I tumbled from land to land, I crossed Silesia, and I crossed the land of Czechia. A merchant and a tramp and a juggler. Yes. Hungry all the time. And the police in pursuit…humpf. Locked me up in winter, let me go in summer. Until I crossed the Alps, yes, the great mountains! Humpf. And in the land of Italy, where it was warm, I found the world famous Enrico circus. Having no choice, for my stomach, I became an acrobat, performing magnificent feats for the audience. But then I twisted my foot, to this day it is crooked and makes me short, shorter than the day I was born. For seven days and seven nights I lay in pain, bedridden, and Mrs. Gazella, the wife of Enrico, cared for me like a mother, humpf, and on the seventh night something went wrong with the lion tamer, his head was bitten off. He put it into the mouth of a lion but never took it out. Humpf. They gave me a choice: they needed a lion-tamer, and acrobatic jumps I could do no longer. I could either tame lions or go back to the dumps, humpf. Of course, I preferred the dumps. There, I would have my head intact, humpf. But the circus master, Enrico himself, hovered over me for seven days and seven nights, entreating and persuading. After all that time I didn’t know if I was coming or going, and then he added a final temptation, humpf. He would teach me a magic whisper to subdue the lions. I said no, of course. What good would the magic whisper be when I was in the lion’s gut? But Enrico put his lips to my ear and whispered the magic whisper, which had been passed down through many generations in his family, and which included one Hebrew word. Yes, one word in lashon hakodesh , the Holy Tongue. For some reason, humpf, far from my people, from Okhanow, one word was more enchanting than the wholeness of my head. Yes, a Hebrew word. I did not even speak Hebrew, except for a few prayers. And so I became the lion tamer in the famous Enrico circus, traveling through the towns of all the world! I had seven lions and seven lionesses, all at my command. No thanks to my stature, which was not tall, humpf, but due to the whisper. After I whispered the charm, looking into their eyes, I fearlessly put my head between their jaws and sometimes placed my neck beneath their paws. Humpf. Humpf.’”