Exodus - Leon Uris [36]
But that night—the day before departure—Miriam Clement began having her labor pains. She was not permitted into a hospital so she gave birth in her own bedroom. Another son was born. It had been a difficult and complicated delivery and she needed several weeks to convalesce.
Panic seized Johann Clement! He had visions of his family being trapped and never able to escape the approaching holocaust.
He frantically rushed to Berlin to Number 10 Meinekestrasse, the building which housed the Mossad Aliyah Bet. The place was a bedlam of people trying desperately to get out of Germany.
At two o’clock in the morning he was led into an office where a very young and very exhausted man met him. The man was named Ari Ben Canaan and he was a Palestinian in charge of the escape of the German Jews.
Ben Canaan looked at him through bloodshot eyes. He sighed. “We will arrange your escape, Dr. Clement. Go home, you will be contacted. I have to get a passport, a visa ... I have to pay the right people off. It will take a few days.”
“It is not for me. I cannot go, nor can my wife. I have three children. You must get them out.”
“I must get them out,” Ben Canaan mimicked. “Doctor, you are an important man. I may be able to help you. I cannot help your children.”
“You must! You must!” he shrieked.
Ari Ben Canaan slammed his fist on his desk and jumped up. “Did you see that mob out there! They all want to get out of Germany!” He leaned over the desk an inch from Johann Clement. “For five years we have pleaded, we have begged you to leave Germany. Now even if you can get out the British won’t let you into Palestine. ‘We are Germans ... we are Germans ... they won’t hurt us,’ you said. What in God’s name can I do!”
Ari swallowed and slumped down into his chair. His eyes closed a moment, his face masked in weariness. He picked up a sheaf of papers from his desk and thumbed through them. “I have obtained visas for four hundred children to leave Germany. Some families in Denmark have agreed to take them. We have a train organized. I will put one of your children on.”
“I ... I ... have three children ...”
“And I have ten thousand children. I have no visas. I have nothing to fight the British Navy with. I suggest you send your oldest who will be better able to take care of itself. The train leaves tomorrow night from Berlin from the Potsdam Station.”
Karen clung drowsily to her favorite rag doll. Daddy knelt before her. In her half sleep she could smell that wonderful smell of his pipe.
“It is going to be a wonderful trip, Karen. Just like going to Baden-Baden.”
“But I don’t want to, Daddy.”
“Well, now ... look at all these nice boys and girls going along with you.”
“But I don’t want them. I want you and Mommy and Hans and Maximilian. And I want to see my new baby brother.”
“See here, Karen Clement. My girl doesn’t cry.”
“I won’t ... I promise I won’t ... Daddy ... Daddy ... will I see you soon?”
“We’ll ... all try very hard ...”
A woman stepped behind Johann Clement and tapped him on the shoulder. “I am sorry,” she said. “It is time for departure.”
“I’ll take her on.”
“No ... I am sorry. No parents on the train.”
He nodded and hugged Karen quickly and stood back biting his pipe so hard his teeth hurt. Karen took the woman’s hand, then stopped and turned around. She handed her father her rag doll. “Daddy ... you take my dolly. She’ll look after you.”
Scores of anguished parents pressed close to the sides of the train, and the departing children pressed against the windows, shouting, blowing kisses, waving, straining desperately for a last glimpse.
He looked but could not see her.
The steel train grumbled into motion. The parents ran alongside, screaming final farewells.
Johann Clement stood motionless on the fringe of the crowd. As the last car passed he looked up and saw Karen standing calmly on the rear platform. She put her hand to her lips and blew him a kiss as though she knew she would never see him again.
He watched her tiny figure grow smaller and smaller and smaller. And then she was gone. He