The Miernik Dossier - Charles McCarry [75]
Ilona showed no special interest in the information. She advised me not to disturb myself over what governments do. “They have nothing to do with us, Paul,” she remarked. “They won’t abolish themselves as they should—but we can ignore them.”
She held her forearm in front of my eyes so that I could read the blue numbers from Belsen tattooed on her skin. “Of course,” she said, “ignoring them is not always easy. They have ways of getting one’s attention.”
70. FROM THE DEBRIEFING OF ZOFIA MIERNIK.
By the time we reached Khartoum all of us, I think, wanted a few minutes alone. One gets incredibly dirty in the desert. In camp, Kalash allowed us only a little water in the morning for washing—enough to clean the teeth and the corners of the eyes. So when we got to the Grand Hotel (which is not so very grand, by the way) we all went in our own directions and took baths and so forth. I didn’t see anyone from midnight one night until just before dinner the next. Not even Tadeusz. All of these people were tremendous diarists—they were always writing down the day’s events, like explorers or journalists. I don’t know why. I supposed when I didn’t see anyone that that was what they were doing— writing. I was glad to take a hot bath and be left alone. I read an American book Paul had given me. I closed the blinds and didn’t go outside at all. I had had enough of the sun. I wanted a cool dark place.
Q. Was there any more byplay between Collins and your brother over Ilona?
A. No. After we left Cairo they both became surprisingly uninterested in Ilona, and she in them, for that matter. We all became comrades. There was no more sexual banter. I must say Ilona behaved very well. She did most of the work around the camp—the cooking and sewing and so on. She behaved like a chum instead of a tart. She really was very fond of all the men. I never liked her, as I’ve told you, not even after she had undergone this change in personality. But I could see her charm. Really, she gave one no cause to condemn her. She accepted everyone else exactly as she found them. I suppose I should have done the same for her. As for Tadeusz, he was more like his old self. That peculiar cringing behavior I saw in Cairo disappeared once we got into the desert.
Q. We’d like as many details of the trip out of Khartoum as you can remember. Can you just take it day by day for us?
A. I don’t remember each day equally well, of course.
We left on a Friday and went down the White Nile. Kalash drove the Cadillac, with Ilona and Collins and Tadeusz as passengers. I rode with Paul in the Land Rover. Kalash had to go more slowly because the Land Rover couldn’t keep up. After we left the paved roads, the Land Rover led, because of the dust. We stopped a few times to look at the scenery. It was rather thrilling to see the boats on the Nile—dhows, with those sharp sails like the wings of swallows. Once we saw a whole group of them together and Paul said, “Look, the sails are like a line of Arabic script.” That’s just what they looked like.
Actually, nothing much happened until Sunday night. By that time we were in a routine—start off very early, drive until just before dark, make camp, have supper, talk awhile. Usually I played the guitar. Ilona would sing. It was a happy atmosphere.
Q. What did you talk about?
A. Anything but ourselves. I found this strange at first. For a Pole it was disconcerting—we are always discussing our souls. Westerners do not speak of their inner lives—at least not Paul and Nigel and Ilona. Kalash, of course, is a black Englishman. On the trip we talked about literature, the theater. All of them had a great store of information. One of them was bound to know all about almost anything that came up in conversation. Nigel, for example, seemed to know the names of all the butterflies and birds in the world. No one ever mentioned politics. The subject did not seem to interest them.
Q. There were no arguments, no conflicts?
A. No. The only possible friction would have come over Ilona, between Nigel and Tadeusz. As I said, that