Mitla Pass - Leon Uris [82]
The scene at the Bialystok terminal was chaos beyond chaos. Not only was the station filled with thousands of young men of military service age, but tens of thousands of Jews from the entire scope of society, escaping from pogroms which had rent the fabric of the whole country.
Along with these there were gentile boys fleeing service, as well as a huge sprinkling of Russian deserters. Everyone was suspicious of everyone else. Fortunately the Russian Army was in retreat and the civilian train no longer carried its full complement of military inspectors, so documents were scarcely checked.
Toward the end of a stop-and-go day, the bulging train pulled to a halt at a siding. It was too dangerous to continue west and soon came a terse announcement that they had reached the end of the line.
As everyone milled about wondering what to do, some of the suspicion eased as people began to identify themselves to find people of their own organizations.
“Say,” someone called to Nathan, “aren’t you Nathan Zadok?”
Nathan balked. “You’ve got the wrong person. My name is Pinchas Hirsch.”
The young man persisted; he took Nathan aside and whispered in his ear. “I heard you give the keynote speech at the Poale Regional Conference in Minsk. I am Yossi Dubnow. I was a delegate from Kaunas-Lithuania.”
Nathan looked over the tall, striking young man. He seemed like a good person to have along in such a situation. Nathan shook Yossi’s hand. Together they hunted for more Poale people and found Daniel and Avni Finkel from Slonim. The four of them decided they had just the right size group to move around quickly and they teamed up.
Although the train had dumped them some distance away, Siedlce was still their first objective. It was there they had to find Perchik, the guide to take them into Poland.
They pooled their resources and bought a ride on a farm wagon, moved through the forest by night, edged evasively during the day, stayed under cover in populated areas, and some days managed to advance only several hundred yards.
It was torturous, hungry, and dangerous going, but survival was a strong motivation. Warsaw loomed in their imaginations as some sort of nirvana—the golden city.
Yossi Dubnow proved to be clever, resourceful, and strong. In five days of cautious movement they worked themselves to the outer fields beyond Siedlce. By then, Yossi was in full and unquestioned command, although Nathan, through his speech at the Poale Conference in Minsk, had earned a great deal of respect.
As they approached Siedlce they heard the sound of gunfire. They surveyed their area for the best cover and came upon an abandoned brick factory that had several deep clay pits around it. Yossi reckoned they could hide themselves there as well as anyplace.
“What do you think?” Avni said. “Shouldn’t we go into Siedlce and look for Perchik?”
“I don’t like it,” Yossi answered. “We all can’t just go marching in. First of all, we’ll be recognized as strangers and second of all, they may be fighting for Siedlce.”
“Yeah, we don’t want to get caught in a street battle,” Daniel said.
“I say we stay here and lie low until the firing stops, at least,” Nathan said.
“One of us has a better chance than the four of us,” Yossi said. “I’ve had some military training in school. I’ll go, you stay put.”
The others agreed and found a narrow rail tunnel, large enough to pull carts of clay from the pits to the kilns. The tunnel was deep, sturdy, and would provide good cover.
Yossi set out for the nearby village of Chodow to gather information. This had to be done with extreme prudence because all sides—the Germans, Poles, and Russians—could very well turn them in. Yossi’s first objective was to see if the village had a synagogue and if so, find the rabbi or a Jewish family. As he approached Chodow from a hillside, he could make out large