The Polski Affair by Leon Gildin

Author:Leon Gildin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: nazi, jewish, award winner, hotel polski, leon gildin, warsaw, warsaw ghetto
Publisher: Diamond River Books

CHAPTER XII

“What does it look like to you, sarge?’ asked the lieutenant.

“Beats the shit out of me, sir”, replied the sergeant. “They look like they’re dressed for church. Who the hell would abandon a first-class passenger train in the middle of a field?”

Some fifteen hundred yards to the south and west of the stalled train, an American infantry unit was trying to understand what they were seeing as the sun came up. It was a cool spring morning. The people they were observing were mostly men, middle aged men dressed in warm coats, slowly coming out of the first two cars of the train. No one came out of the third car. Suddenly, children appeared, followed by women who were hollering at them.

“This is a hell of a time and place for a family outing”, said the sergeant. “Do you think it could be a booby trap? Krauts in the woods? Will they open fire as we approach the train?”

“Why use women and children?” replied the lieutenant. “It just doesn’t make sense. Listen, sarge. Take two jeeps and a platoon of men. Approach the train from the front and the back. See if you draw any fire. For some reason, I don’t think you will. But if one shot is fired, we will storm the woods. Stay on the phone and let me know what is happening.”

The lieutenant continued to observe the progress of his troops. The two jeeps approached from either end of the train, and as soon as the people saw the jeeps coming toward them, the women gathered the children to them and the men put up their hands, as if to surrender. The soldiers got out of the jeeps, and suddenly the people started to holler and jump up and down. They grabbed the soldiers, both the men and women, and started to hug and kiss them.

“Sarge, what the hell is going on down there?” the lieutenant shouted into his phone. “Who are those people?”

“Send down the boychik from Brooklyn” answered the sergeant. “He speaks their language. These are Jews who were being taken, God knows where. I guess the Krauts just abandoned them here when they learned we were in the area. I don’t know what the hell we’ll do with them, but now they’re ours.”

“Goldstein, get your ass over here,” shouted the lieutenant. Corporal Goldstein, the boychik from Brooklyn, came right over. He was a giant of a man and was the one everyone wanted on their side, simply because of his size and his strength. He was a strong defender of his faith, and anyone foolish enough to make any remark that he took to be remotely anti-Semitic would usually end up with a broken jaw or a crooked nose.

Goldstein had risen to the rank of Staff Sergeant, but had been court martialed so many times for fighting that he’d dropped in rank to corporal. His other peculiarity was that he liked to speak as if he were a Negro. Since the Army

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