Sophie's Choice - William Styron [309]
“It was remarkable, you know, this way that Wanda had, this absolutely direct way she had of dealing with people—anybody, strangers. It was almost—The word would be brazen, I guess, and she was like a tough man that way, but there was enough in her that was young and female, a certain softness too, that allowed her to get by with it. I remember looking at her. She looked very... haggard, I guess you would say. She hadn’t had any sleep for two nights, always working, moving, always in some danger. She spent much time working on an underground newspaper; this was so dangerous. I think I told you, she was not really beautiful—she had this milky-pale freckled face with a large jaw—but there was such magnetism in her that it transformed her, made her strangely attractive. I kept looking at her—her face was as harsh and impatient as the Jew’s—and this intensity was just very remarkable to see. Hypnotic.
“Feldshon said, ‘I was born in Bydgoszcz, but my parents took me to Germany when I was a small child.’ Then his voice became angry and sarcastic: ‘That’s the reason for my poor Polish. I confess that some of us speak it as little as possible in the ghetto. It would be pleasant to speak a language other than that of an oppressor. Tibetan? Eskimo?’ Then he said more softly, ‘Pardon the diversion. I grew up in Hamburg and was educated there. I was one of the first students at the new university. Later I became a teacher in a gymnasium. In Würzburg. I taught French and English literature. I was teaching there when I was arrested. When it was discovered that I was born in Poland, I was deported here, in 1938, with my wife and daughter, along with quite a few other Jews of Polish birth.’ He stopped, then said bitterly, ‘We escaped the Nazis and now they’re hammering down the walls. But whom should I fear more, the Nazis or the Poles—the Poles whom I suppose I should consider my compatriots? At least I know what the Nazis are capable of.’
“Wanda ignored this. She began talking about the guns. She said that at the moment they were in the basement of the building, wrapped in heavy paper. There was also a box of ammunition. She looked at her watch and said that in exactly fifteen minutes two Home Army members would be in the basement ready to transfer the boxes to the hallway. There was a prearranged signal. When she heard it she said she would give a sign to Feldshon and the other Jew. They would leave the apartment immediately and go down the stairs to the hallway, where the parcels would be waiting. Then they would get out of the building as fast as possible. I remember she said she wanted to point one thing out. One of the pistols—they were Lugers, I remember—had a broken firing pin or a broken something or other, but she would try to get a replacement as soon as she was able.
“Feldshon then said, ‘There’s one thing you haven’t told us. How many weapons are there?’
“Wanda looked at him. ‘I thought you had been told. Three Luger automatics.’
“This face of Feldshon went white, it actually went white. ‘I can’t believe it,’ he said in a whisper. ‘I was told that there would be a dozen pistols, perhaps fifteen. Also some grenades. I can’t believe it!’ I could see how filled with rage he was, but it was also despair. He shook his head. ‘Three Lugers, one with a broken firing pin. My God!’
“Wanda said in this very businesslike way—trying to control her own feelings, I could tell, ‘It’s the best we could do at the moment. We are going to try to get more. I think we will. There are four hundred rounds of ammunition. You’ll need more and we’ll try to get that too.’
“Feldshon suddenly said in this softer voice, a little apologetic, ‘You’ll forgive my reaction, I hope. I had just been led to believe more, and