“If all goes well,” Zus began, “we will be back here in four and a half days’ time with enough food to last the winter. Our group is small, but we cannot survive on what we’ve gathered from the forest, and as you all know, the Germans have stolen from us the option of taking foods from the villages and farms. It is time we fight back.”
A murmur of approval ran through the small crowd. Everyone was nodding in agreement, even those who looked frightened.
“It will be dangerous, though,” Zus continued. “But all of us who are risking our lives to take on the Germans, to feed our camp, know the risks. We are all ready to fight for what is ours.”
Rosalia stepped forward. “We stand up now. We stand up for those who are not here anymore to stand up for themselves.”
Something shifted in Yona’s belly, a swell of nerves. This wasn’t what the mission was about, but the murmurs in the group rose to cheers, and a few people clapped and whistled.
“Stand up for my mother!” called out Elizaveta, who had sleeping baby Abra pressed against her chest. “She was on her knees begging for mercy when the Germans shot her.”
“Stand for our son Natan and his wife and children!” Oscher called out. Bina was by his side, tears in her eyes, nodding.
“For my daughter, Ryka, and my wife, Sosia!” called Rubin Sobil.
“For my daughter, Dolca!” cried Moshe.
Ruth grasped Leah’s hand and hoisted little Daniel higher on her shoulder. “For my children’s father, Chiel.”
“For Aleksander, and Leib, and Luba, and Lazare!” yelled Ester.
All around the camp, names rang out. Husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, children, friends, loved ones. They’d all lost more people than could be counted, and that’s why it was time. Yona and Zus exchanged glances, the understanding of that truth passing silently between them.
“Take what is ours!” Chaim’s wife, Sara, called out, her voice thick with tears. “But come back to us, all of you. The best revenge is your survival.”
Chaim nodded solemnly, and so, too, did the others, all except for Rosalia, whose face was as still as carved stone. Once the grief for her lost family had finally come to the surface, it had settled there, heavy and immovable, making her almost unrecognizable.
Ten minutes later, after exchanging hugs and kisses and handshakes with those who would remain, the small group set out toward the west. All around them, the forest was shedding her green, preparing for the winter. The world drifted down around them in all the colors of fire and flame, and they could still smell the smoked ruins of some of the villages on the forest’s edge. It smelled like autumn, too, of leaves crisp and spent, of grass turned to straw, of mushrooms taking their last gasp of air before the forest turned cold. Rabbits and chipmunks fled ahead of them as the group marched on, and ravens lifted off with great caws of warning.
They stopped at nightfall and ate a small meal from their knapsacks, each of which was stuffed with blankets taken from neighboring towns, which Moshe had hastily fashioned into giant sacks to transport whatever foodstuffs they managed to obtain. That night, they didn’t bother with shelters; they built beds of sticks and reeds, covered them with fallen leaves and let exhaustion overtake them. Sometime during the night, Zus, who slept in a makeshift bed beside Yona’s, reached for her hand, and they didn’t let go until the first rays of dawn pierced the sky. It was time to move again.
The group walked until midafternoon on the second day, when Yona quickly jogged to the front of their exhausted line and held up a hand to stop them. “What is it?” asked Rosalia, who’d been leading the charge through the forest.
“We’re getting close,” Yona said. Within an hour, they’d reach the road. “Let’s rest here until midnight.” She gestured to a cluster of fallen oaks a hundred meters away. “We can find some shelter there. We’ll move again in the darkness, and we’ll find our places along the road so we’re there to greet the Germans in the morning.”
They all gathered, sharing potatoes and dried berries they’d brought from camp. They passed around a bottle of bimber that the brothers had brought along and talked in low voices about the plan for the morning. They would position themselves so they would immediately surround an approaching transport. They would be cautious not to fire on a truck that contained only soldiers, for it would yield no food and would be more dangerous. They would also avoid convoys of multiple vehicles and wait for a truck traveling on its own.