Ivan and his mother were kind enough to Dovid. He couldn’t complain, but Dovid wanted to be with his own family. So on the morning of September 29, he got up at 3 a.m. and while Maria and Ivan slept, Dovid quietly left the farmhouse. He walked for several miles and climbed the back fence of the cemetery. By the time he arrived, he could see lines already forming. He knew some of the people from his neighborhood and others from his father’s practice. They were all Jewish. He recognized Devorah, the girl who lived three streets away from him. He’d had a secret crush on her since last year when they were both at the market and she had smiled at him. Now she stood beside her parents, holding the hand of a younger sister. In front of them was a pile of suitcases. Why had her parents been willing to take their children, but Dovid’s papa been so adamant about leaving him behind?

  It is a good thing that I played with my friends in this very cemetery when I was a child because I can still remember this unknown opening in the wall, he thought, easily slipping through the hole. And now that I am inside, I know all of the good places to hide.

  Dovid found a spot where he could watch the Jews where no one could see him.

  He sat back, watching and thinking.

  By the time my parents arrive at their destination, they will be forced to accept that I am there with them. My father will be mad, but at least I will be with my family. But just to be safe and sure that my father doesn’t see me I have to be the last person to get on the train.

  At precisely eight that morning, the Germans arrived, looking powerful in their belted uniforms, guns at their sides. They began barking orders in a mixture of Russian and German. They spoke enough Russian for Dovid to make out what they wanted.

  “Leave your luggage at the front of the line. It will be delivered to you in a van,” the Nazis said.

  Dovid watched as the Nazis controlled the crowd. Only a few people were allowed to move forward at a time. In the distance, he heard a tic, tic, tic sound.

  What is that? Where is there a train?

  Dovid waited to move forward until he saw his mother and father. He continued to hide and watch as they moved forward. He assumed they were in line with the rest of the group to board a waiting train. But where?

  However, once Dovid’s parents got to the front of the line Dovid saw that there was no train. In fact, he saw a row of Nazis with their guns drawn and pointed at the Jews. The Germans were hollering loud enough for him to understand.

  “Present your identification papers,” they said.

  “Jude!” One of the Germans yelled as he pushed Dovid’s father forward. Another checked his mother’s papers and announced “Jude,” shoving her until she almost fell.

  Dovid felt a shroud of dread come over him.

  Ten people were counted out before the line was stopped.

  Dovid continued to follow in the shadows. He was so close that the Nazis could have grabbed him but they couldn’t see him. He watched in helpless terror as his parents were forced through a line that had been created by guards with thick wooden sticks on each side. The guards were bashing the Jews with their weapons and yelling “Schnell, faster! Move faster!”

  Dovid saw that his father’s cheek was bleeding and his mother was in tears. He wanted to jump out and start fighting the soldiers, but he was too afraid. His cowardice at that moment would haunt him for the rest of his days on earth. However, as much as he longed to defend his loved ones, his feet stayed glued to the ground until his parents moved through the end of the manmade hall of horror. There they were forced to take off all of their clothes. His mother, always so modest, refused. She was weeping, pleading. One of the soldiers laughed and hit her across the shoulder with a club. Slender and delicate, she fell to the ground. Dovid’s father helped her up only to be clubbed for his efforts.

  Dovid felt vomit rise in his throat. Mama, Papa…

  “Get undressed right now!” The guard’s face was red as he screamed his order at Raisa Levi.

  This time she did as she was commanded.

  Dovid was shuddering so hard it felt as if he might come out of his skin as he watched his mother try to cover her nakedness with her hands.

  The guards paid no heed. They forced the Levis forward with eight other Jews until they came to a massive, deep wide canyon. Then the Jews were lined up at the edge of the gorge.

  Dovid felt his heart leap into his throat. His body was paralyzed with fear. He couldn’t move. He had to move, he had to help them, but he couldn’t. Tears rushed down his cheeks as he realized his helplessness.

  His mother was weeping. His father took her into his arms. A soldier yelled, “Let go of her and stand straight.” His father ignored the command. It didn’t matter anymore. Dovid knew it. He knew what was coming. OH GOD! And he could see that his parents knew it too. They were to be shot, murdered, and thrown into the ravine. This was the future that the Nazis had planned for the Jews of Kiev. Dovid’s papa had been right not to trust them.

  Dovid felt the breath leave his body as the soldier pulled his gun.

  NO, please God NO! God, please do something to stop them, Dovid screamed inside of his head as he watched the bullets enter his parents’ bodies. The sound was deafening. It was a sound that would wake him in nightmares for the rest of his life. Dovid’s Mama and Papa fell like ragdolls into the deep pit but the young girl who had been standing beside his mother was still alive, even after she’d been shot. She dropped to the ground holding her stomach as she bled out onto the earth. One of the soldiers saw her and laughed. He turned to his fellow Nazis and said something in German. Then they all laughed. The girl lay there on the ground bleeding. She couldn’t be more than sixteen.

  The soldier walked over to her and shot her again, this time in the head. Blood and brain matter splattered the man’s boots and uniform. Dovid puked up bile from his empty stomach. Now the young girl lay still. Her face was gone. In its place was a mass of bloody matter. With his black boot, the Nazi kicked the girl’s body into the gorge.

  Dovid had seen enough. Silent as a cat, he ran out the back of the cemetery and away from the horror he’d just witnessed. He ran, and he ran. He kept running until the stitch in his side hurt so badly that he had to stop and sit down for a few minutes. Never before had Dovid felt such hatred toward anyone.

  Dovid sat under a tree for a few minutes. Visions of what he had just seen haunted him. He got up and began to run again. He ran, and he ran, his feet flying beneath him, as he put time and distance between himself and the Nazis. Finally, after forty-five minutes of racing at top speed, Dovid Levi fell to his knees and wept. Although he’d seen his parents’ murder with his own eyes it was hard to believe that it had really happened.

  Today I became an orphan.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  A boy can only lie in the dirt crying for so long. Then he must rise and go forward to find his destiny, to live in the future. And so it was with Dovid. His face stained black from earth mixed with tears, he began to head back to the farmhouse. As he walked, he watched his feet, step after step. He could not raise his head to face the sunshine.

  How could I stand there and watch those bastards kill my parents and do nothing? I am a coward. A coward.

  Then something akin to a bright light flickered inside of Dovid and he realized that he was not going to return to the Ivanov’s farm. No, he had a more important job to do than farming. Today, he was going to enlist as Oskar Ivanov, in the Red Army. No one need know that he was a Jew. He hated the Soviets. He’d heard his parents talk about how Stalin was a terrible dictator who hated Jews. But even though he had no love for Stalin, he would use the Soviets to fight the Nazis because Dovid hated the Nazis more. Over the last several hours Dovid had gone from being a sheltered and protected child to an angry and bitter man with a debt to pay.

  Whether I live or die is not important. I will make those Nazis sorry for the death of my parents. From this day forward, I vow to do whatever I can to rid the world of the filthy Third Reich.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Having grown up learning a great deal about the medical profession from his father, Dovid also knew a lot about how things were done concerning the registering of births. He was fairly sure that because Oskar Ivanov was born on a farm, he would have been delivered by midwives and his exact birth date probably never registered. Therefore, when Dovid enlisted in the army under the name of Oskar Ivanov, he easily lied about his age. At the recruiting office they asked him several questions. Dovid convinced them that he was seventeen. But more importantly, that he was a staunch supporter of the Soviet Union, communism, and that he longed to serve his homeland and his leader, Joseph Stalin. Dovid made known his hatred for the Germans and his desire to push them back to their own land and off Soviet soil. The recruiters were impressed by this young man with the dark deep mysterious eyes and the strong convictions. And before he knew it, Dovid, now Oskar Ivanov, was a soldier in the armed forces of the USSR.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Hand-to-hand combat will reveal a man’s true nature. It is there that he is sure to discover if he is a hero, or a sadist, or someone in between. His inner strength to conquer his own fears will be tested. He will stare at the stars at night and wonder what happens after death. He will question what is good and what is evil. But most of all, as he is witness to so much death, he will ponder the meaning of life itself. For some men, being close to death and violence will drive them mad. Others will find the inner strength to keep a firm grasp on their sanity even as they watch their friends fall all around them. And finally, war will test a man’s fortitude. As this same man looks into the eyes of someone he has never met before, but calls his enemy because of the uniform he wears, will he be able to pull the trigger and end that man’s life? Yes, war, and in particular. hand-to-hand combat, will strip a person naked and lay him bare before his own eyes.

  Battle was already raging in Moscow between the Nazi invaders and the Red Army when Oskar Ivanov arrived. The winter of 1941 had started early and had proven to be one the coldest that Oskar could remember. The tires on the cars and tanks froze. Oskar’s fingers and nose were numb and he was constantly afraid of frostbite. Even though he had socks and heavy boots, his toes ached. The temperature hovered around ten below zero. Upon his arrival in the city, Oskar was immediately taken to his platoon. On the way he saw that deep ditches surrounded the city.

  “Who dug those? The soldiers?” Oskar asked one of his comrades. Oskar was wondering if he was going to be digging ditches in the freezing air.

  “No. It was the citizens of Moscow. They have been helping us. They don’t want the German tanks coming into their city any more than we do.”

  But the ditches couldn’t stop the Germans. And the horrors of war and bloodshed quickly became part of Oskar’s daily routine.

  Oskar had been full of anger and bravado when he enlisted. But now, as he scanned the burning city, he saw the pools of blood against the white snow, the scattered dead bodies of Germans and Russians with missing limbs, severed heads, and gouged-out eyes. He realized the only thing distinguishing Russian bodies from German bodies were the uniforms. It wasn’t the young boys who were lying dead in the snow who’d asked for this calamity. It was the leaders of their countries. In particular, it was one terrible man…Adolf Hitler. There was a smell to war. It was an odor of fear, mixed with gunpowder and smoke. As he settled into his makeshift barracks, Oscar’s fingers tapped the cool metal of the gun that he wore at his side.

  Anyone who observed him would have thought him a tough and fearless fighter, but Dovid Levi, the thirteen-year-old Jewish boy who hid inside of Oskar, was afraid. Although Oskar was a member of a battalion, he had never felt so alone before in his entire life. He had also never felt so young. It was as if he realized for the first time that he was only a boy, and must somehow find the inner strength to be ready to accept death should it be his fate.

  The first time he killed a man, Oskar vomited. He shot his gun and saw blood shoot out of the man’s eye. Then he saw the man fall. Without warning, the contents of Oskar’s stomach emptied onto the snow. His fellow soldiers laughed at him.

  “You’ll get used to it,” one of them said.

  It was not the sight of blood that had sickened him to the point of puking. He’d worked with his father in medicine. Blood, broken limbs, and injuries were commonplace in a doctor’s office. What had reached inside of Oskar/Dovid and squeezed his gut until he expelled everything inside of him was the fact that he, Dovid Levi, had caused the loss of a life. He had taken a life away from another human being. Yes, he hated the Nazis and yes, he’d vowed to kill them if he could. But in his heart, Dovid was not a murderer. He respected God’s gift of life. His father had reared him to be a healer, not a killer. The young soldier, with blood oozing from the space where his eye had been, was no more than a boy. It was not as if this boy had murdered his parents. Dovid Levi could not justify having taken a life in his own mind. Life and death were God’s business. He had his bar mitzvah only a few months ago. He knew God’s commandments. And he also knew that he’d broken one.

  At that point, Dovid would have liked to have left the army and gone back to the farm. But there was no leaving. Stalin did not allow his men to retreat. No, Dovid must not look back. There was no way back. He was Oskar Ivanov now. He was a soldier in the Red Army and he must continue to kill Nazis. This was his fate, this was the song that he had heard the flute player playing and he must dance to it, even though everything about committing murder felt wrong.

  As the weeks passed and he saw his friends die, the killing of the enemy did become surprisingly easier. However, Oskar found that he could be more useful to his comrades by practicing the medical training that he’d learned as a boy. He bandaged wounds, removed bullets, and stitched up gashes. This he found rewarding. This he could do with good conscience. And so he did. During battle, Oskar became fearless because his mind was not on the killing, it was on the healing. He was usually the first man to run out into the field to help a dying Soviet soldier.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  December 7, 1941.

  The Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor and the Americans entered the war. The Japanese were linked with the Germans. Hitler was already engaging in an all-out battle to take Britain. The Americans allied with the British.

  In June of 1942, Hitler set his sights on Stalingrad. At first it appeared that the Germans would take the city. The Nazis moved forward and by October of 1942 they reached the shores of the Volga.

  However, two important events occurred that changed the outlook for Hitler. In August of the same year, Winston Churchill and the United States came to the aid of the Soviet Union. The British and the Americans began to send ammunition and manpower in order to help Stalin defeat the Nazis. And the second crucial event was that the Nazis had counted on taking Stalingrad before the deadly cold Russian winter descended upon them.

  The USSR was a sea of vast and open land, making it difficult for Hitler to get supplies to his troops once the winter set in. Hitler tried to send what he could by plane. But the truth was that the Nazi soldiers were starving and, because they had insufficient clothing, they were freezing to death. With the help of the Americans and the British, the cards were stacked against Hitler’s Third Reich.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  If Oskar had been horrified at the battle in Moscow he was aghast in Stalingrad. Never had he seen such carnage on both sides.

  However, it was in the heat and danger of this battle that Oskar learned that he, little Dovid Levi, had the courage of the lion of Judea. However, it wasn’t through murder or shooting a thousand Nazis that he found his heroism. It was through love and through healing. For the first time, he could feel what it meant to be the son of a great doctor. For he knew now that although his father had left the earth, his papa would never really die because he, Dovid Levi, carried his father’s genes in his blood.

  Oskar had been hiding alone in a foxhole trying to stay silent, even though he could not help coughing from the smoke all around him. He peeked over the edge to see where the enemy was and just as he did he saw a superior officer take a bullet several feet in front of him. There were dead and dying men all around him. Blood soaked the ground. Oskar was afraid that the same fate awaited him. He wanted to burrow into the ground like a mole, and he could have stayed in the foxhole and protected himself if he had chosen to. No one would have been the wiser. There was far too much confusion for anyone to know where he was. But, even against the thunder of the guns blasting, Oskar imagined he could hear the wheezing breath of the man whom he had just seen shot. Again, Oskar stole a glance out of the trench. He could see that the life was pouring out of the officer’s body, spilling crimson onto the snow. Without assistance this man would surely die. Oskar curled back into the earth and tried to ignore the sound.

  Am I really hearing him? This doesn’t make sense. How can I hear that man dying when the noise of gunfire and bombings all around me is deafening?

  Then Oskar shivered because he thought he heard his father’s voice.

  “Dovid, you have to help that man. You will be all right. Go now. Put your faith in me and leave the foxhole. Bring that officer back here to the trench with you. Move quickly. I will watch over you. You will be safe, my son. You will not take a bullet.”

  I am going mad. I must be going mad. I am hearing the voice of my dead father. I can’t leave this place. If I stand up I will be an open target, Oskar thought. He was puzzled because his father’s words were as clear as if his father were sitting right by his side. Then, once again, Oskar heard his father say, “Go Dovid. Go now; get the man. Hurry, run.” Driven by his father’s prompting, Oskar put his trust in God and left the safety of the foxhole. He got to his feet and, still hunched over, ran to the officer’s side. As he did, he heard a bullet whisk by his face, missing him by inches, but he didn’t flinch. Grabbing the man’s arm, Oskar dragged the officer back to the trench. Two more gunshots missed Oskar by inches. He heard them but he did not fear. It was as if a white light surrounded him. Somehow he knew he would survive. Once he and the officer were back in the foxhole, Oskar examined the man. The officer had been shot in the leg and was losing a lot of blood. Oskar took off his belt and tightened it around the man’s leg to stop the bleeding. Then as soon as he was able, Oskar dragged the officer to the medic’s tent where he took care of the officer’s wound.

 

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