I went with them about a kilometer further when we saw a little hut--it was really an old railroad car--next to a cemetery, surrounded by barbed wire. I crawled under the wire and knocked on the window. The other two guys were scared and ran away.
HERMAN FEDER: In our wagon was a small window with bars, blocked with a piece of wood. We broke off the wood for a little air and light. One night the transport stopped. Looking out we saw a sign: "Zihle." I knew from the way the "Z" was written--with a mark over it--that we were in Czechoslovakia. A Russian soldier was put in our wagon then; he found a space next to me. I could speak Russian, so we started to talk. He was an officer who had been captured, escaped, and then was caught again. As we talked, a locomotive came along, and suddenly our train was underway again, traveling the whole night. I fell asleep. By morning the train had stopped. I opened my eyes, looked out of the window, and saw the sign for Zihle again. I thought I had lost my mind; I couldn't understand it. Later, I learned that Jerry and his friends had blown up the bridge to Pilsen the night before and the train couldn't get through. It was forced back to Zihle, where it stayed.
All day long we heard thunder. Hoping for rain, we put our spoons through the bars to try to catch a drop of water. But the rain didn't come.
That night I was standing next to the window and could hear the conversation of three or four S.S. men sitting around a little fire they had made just below us. I overheard one say, "I only have three bullets left. If these prisoners get the doors open they'll kill us."
"I have only one bullet," the second one said.
Then the third said, "I have none. Tomorrow morning I'm running away."
They pushed their fire away and left. I translated their conversation to the Russian soldier. He thought about it and then told me, "Tonight I'm going to break out."
Outside of our little window was a big pile of wood. Sometime in the night--I had fallen asleep--the Russian apparently reached through the bars and managed to pull in a piece of wood from the stack outside. He used it to break out the bars. Then he crawled out of the window, came around and opened the door to our wagon and all the other wagons as well. When I opened my eyes, the moon was shining in through the open door. I looked around and saw that the wagon was nearly empty, just five or six were lying there--those who couldn't run. I thought, "My God, what should I do? If I stay and they find me here with the others gone, they will kill me." I went over to the edge of the wagon and looked out. In the bright moonlight I saw people running away, like rabbits in a field. I didn't see anyone who might stop me, so I jumped out and ran too.
I heard gunfire, and suddenly I realized I was hit in my left ankle, but I didn't stop; I kept on running. Then I couldn't run any more and fell down. A German and a Pole--friends from the concentration camp--picked me up and dragged me away to a little forest. They left me and ran off. I wrapped up my foot with my shirt and lay down. Then two other prisoners turned up.
I went with them about a kilometer further when we saw a little hut--it was really an old railroad car--next to a cemetery, surrounded by barbed wire. I crawled under the wire and knocked on the window. The other two guys were scared and ran away.
"Who is there?" someone called out. When I heard the Czech language, I kissed the ground--I knew I was saved. I started crying. A man came out and took me inside. It was the home of the gravedigger.
His wife was upset about me being there. She had heard the guns and was afraid the Germans would come. Her husband just said to her, "Mother, bring some soup and bread!" and he put me on the sofa. I begged him, "Please! Hide me under the sofa," and he did. Before he could even give me something to eat, I heard the rattling of pistols and machine guns. I lay there, shaking and very frightened. Jerry came in the door.
"Did you see some prisoners?"
"I have one here. He's wounded," the gravedigger said to him.
Jerry was also speaking in Czech, but I was still shaking.
"Come out from there," he said, "Don't worry. Nothing will happen to you. I already have twenty others in the church tower. Stay here and I will bring a doctor."
About a half an hour later he came back with a doctor. They put me on a chair. Someone held my hands, someone else held my feet while the doctor took the bullet out of my ankle, without anesthetic or anything. When Jerry left he said he would come back for me the next day, but I didn't really think he would; I was still afraid.