Chapter one

The wind was extreme and whistled wildly as it eagerly shook the dense branches of the hanging birch trees. The moon shone for a moment through the black clouds, and only then could the road be seen and be passed without encountering broken branches and be thrown onto the muddy ground. Violette knew she had to move all the time lest she freezes to death. Her thin, torn coat hung over her slender body, and her forehead was bruised from the many falls, but she moved forward like a wounded animal fighting to survive. She knew that the deeper she went into the dark forest, the harder it would be for the dogs to find her. For a long time, she had not heard their barking and realized that she had moved far enough, but she also knew that if she stopped moving forward, they would catch up with her, so she was determined to keep moving away from them before dawn.

The sound of thunder and flashes of lightning startled her; she bit her lips in fear and cringed as she clung to a tree. She strained her eyes wide open to see something, but in vain, blind, with her arms outstretched not to bang her head, she advanced step by step.

At first light, she realized that she was already deep in the heart of the forest, protected from her pursuers but exposed to cold and hunger. The walk was hard and slow, she noticed a pit that would be a shelter where she could rest a bit and maybe catch a nap, but as she got closer, she slipped into it. As she tried to stop herself with her bare hands from falling, a sharp broken branch got stuck deep into her arm; she fainted from the intensity of the pain.

The drizzle of rain splashing on her face woke her up; she opened her eyes, she was lying on her back, and every attempt to move her hand caused her intense pain. Her teeth chattered, and a tremor struck her body; she understood well the severity of her condition. She grabbed the branch fragment in her hand in a desperate effort and ripped it from her arm. Now she was fighting for her life; she wanted to live and knew she had to stop the bleeding. She tore a strip of cloth from the rags of her coat and tied it over the wound as she tightened the knot with her teeth.

She crawled into a pile of leaves to protect herself from the bitter cold and rain that fell from time to time.

When she opened her eyes, she realized that the day had passed while sleeping, darkness had fallen on the forest, and the sounds of owls and other nocturnal animals sounded.

Violette closed her eyes; she imagined Vienna's family house, mother, and father having dinner with her. The fireplace that spread heat from his whispering coals contributed his part to the atmosphere. "Taste the liver spread I prepared for you, Vivi," her mother said to her, and her father, with a loving smile, added, "My sweet Violette, what would you like me to bring you from New York?

The rain stopped, and the sky cleared a little; Violette crawled out of the pit that was sheltering her; she stood and wondered which direction she should go; she was afraid she would go back in her footsteps. Her arm bothered her, and she released the tight knot a little, the wound did not bleed, and the numbed feeling of her fingers passed.

She started walking. Suddenly she saw a squirrel gnawing at something it had found on the ground; she hurriedly chased it away and began to search with her bare hands under the leaves and the wooden pieces that lined the wet soil. She picked up some nuts. She looked up and saw where they had fallen from. She sat on the ground and cracked the nuts with a stone. She chewed them slowly to make it easier for her to swallow. She licked the dewdrops from the large leaves she had picked up. Before proceeding, she filled her pockets with nuts to sustain her for the next few days.

She walked slowly but steadily; she felt her strength return to her, which made her feel more secure. As it began to get dark, she was looking for a hiding place for the approaching night. Since she could not find anything, she decided to walk all night, for the moon's pale light was enough to see her way through obstacles.

She recalled her parents again. "Did Dad come back from the concert?" She asked her mother, "Vivi, sweetheart, don't you remember that Dad left for New York?"

Some voices heard nearby brought her back to reality; she lay on the damp ground and listened; It seemed that these were human voices. She lay motionless and strained to listen, suddenly she heard a boy screaming, maybe a girl. She raised her head slightly and saw nothing. Dawn broke, and she got up a little and started walking bent over as she leaned on her palms. In the distance, she saw a low figure running through the woods, followed by a slightly taller one; they ran in a circle and returned to the starting point, laughing out loud. She decided to get closer to them until she was at a distance where she could hear them well: "Juzek, don't go too far away," she heard a female voice say in Polish.

"I am on Polish land!" The thought went through her mind.

Violette was lying in the bushes looking at the two children playing hide and seek; she was afraid to get close lest she is discovered. "Juzek and Julia, the food is ready," she heard a male voice calling to them. She got up a little and noticed a young man wearing a woolen hat and black coat; she noticed the barrel of a rifle that was hanging over his shoulder. She was hungry and thirsty; the people in the forest did not seem threatening to her, she decided to try her luck. When she got up, she saw smoke rising from the direction where the children were running; the man with the rifle also left. She was strolling toward the fire when she suddenly heard the click of the rifle "Stop, who you are?" She heard the man's voice behind her. She turned to him. "My name is Christina Kruk; I'm from Olsztyn, Mazury," she replied.

"Are you Jewish?" He asked as he came a few steps nearer.

"No, I'm not Jewish," she replied firmly.

"Then what are you doing in the woods?" He asked, still aiming at her with his weapon.

"I'm hungry, I've been walking in the woods for days without food, give me something to eat, and I'll tell you."

"Where is your polish from?" He asked.

"At my parents' house, they spoke Polish; we are Polish - Germans from the Mazury," she replied.

"Follow me." he sounded as he believed her.

He put his weapon on his shoulder and approached her, "You are wounded; the wound does not look good; there is already rot around" He supported her, and they both started walking towards the fire.

As they approached, she saw other people in a clearing with a small structure made of logs and a thatched roof mixed with clay on the outskirts. When they noticed her, everyone stopped their work and looked at her.

"Her name is Christina; she can eat with us and will continue on her way," the man reassured the others.

Violette sat down next to the boy and girl. The heat generated by the fire gave her great comfort; she closed her eyes for a moment, "Eat," she suddenly heard the voice of the girl who handed her a lump of roasted meat. "Can I have water?" she begged the girl, "I am very thirsty."

After eating, one of the men approached her and looked at the wound. "The infection must be treated," he said.

He brought a blanket and placed it on her bare shoulders through the tears of her clothes. Then he took a sharp knife and placed it on the whispering coals, "I must burn the wound," he said.

Violette let him do as he told. She was silent and turned her head away. When he attached the knife to the wound, Violette fainted from the intensity of the pain. When she woke up, she found herself inside the building lying on a mattress covered with a thick blanket. She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

Violette woke up in a panic; she felt a hand touching her. She opened her eyes and saw two men leaning over her.

"How do you feel?" asked the guy who had helped her the day before.

"I slept well, though now I feel my injured arm a little," she said as she examined the wound.

The two sat down next to her, "Where did you come from?" This time Violette realized that this was an interrogation and her life depended on the answers she would provide them.

"I jumped from a German vehicle that was transporting me with other detainees."

"Where were you taken?"

"I do not know, we were ten, and two Germans were guarding us; we were sitting in the back of the truck," she replied.

"Who were the others?"

"We were many in the group, but the rest managed to escape; we were caught."

"Where were you caught?" The older man asked.

"We were in Lublin, in the apartment of one of the group, and they broke into the apartment. Someone tipped them off."

"I asked who the others were, and you do not answer my question" This time, he was sharper in his interrogation.

"We are all young people in their twenties from the university; I joined a part of an underground movement that spread leaflets against the Germans."

"What is the name of the group leader, and what is it called?"

"We didn't have a name; the leader was called Jan."

"Jan? That's it? Didn't he have a last name?"

"I do not know; everybody called him Jan."

"Where did the other team members who jumped from the truck escape to?"

"I don't know, the Germans chased us with dogs, I heard gunshots, I ran deep into the forest, and then it rained. When I didn't hear the dogs anymore, I found a pit to hide. I was in the woods for two nights until I found you."

"What prayers are said in church on Sunday mornings?"

"O Jesus Christ, here I am approaching Your Altar with an open heart longing to meet You, and I ask You to let me experience all the graces that You have prepared for me in this Holy Sacrifice of the Holy Mass. Do you want me to continue?"

"No, it's okay; we can let you stay here for one more night, and then you'll have to leave."

Violette nodded understandingly. "Thank you for your help."