Jezek, rising to the moment, strode back and forth along the railcars, insisting that volunteers remove the dead, and that all the luggage and packages also be recovered. Many contained stashes of food, tools, or money. The Czech was now assisted by large bluff blond man, who spoke German with a pronounced Dutch accent.
Bolander and Nir returned to the area near the passenger car anxious to tell the officers about the condition of the refugees. Shapira was on the radio to Mofaz, urging him to move quickly. The two soldiers told the lieutenant about the mounds of dead within the boxcars and Shapira nodded knowingly. Yatom walked over and Nir repeated the story. Yatom pulled Shapira by the sleeve and the two officers walked over to where Feldhandler stood over Mueller and the engineers. Just as they reached him Perchansky emerged from around the front of the train, carrying her Uzi at the ready.
“What now?” said Yatom without preamble. “We can’t care for all these people and we can’t stay here.”
“I’m sure Benny has considered this problem already” said Perchansky sarcastically.
Feldhandler looked at Perchansky with a mixture of hurt and desire then turned away. “I have considered the situation, and I’ve already explained to Colonel Yatom that we have to destroy the death camp, called Sobibor, without delay.”
“Why?” demanded Perchansky. “Because we should” said Feldhandler. “What do you think Ron?” asked Yatom. “I think we should do it” answered Shapira. “We are here. The situation is what it is. You heard what Nir said about the condition of the train—at Sobibor the horrors are worse. We should do it regardless of what Dr. Feldhandler wants. It’s the right thing to do.”
“Mofaz does not agree” said Yatom. “What about the men?”
“The men will do as you say, commander. But if you have doubts, put it to them. Those that don’t want to help can sit by the capsule if they like—I think they will all come in the end—even Mofaz.”
“Where is Mofaz?“
“Still hauling the extra supplies” said Shapira. “It’s a hig joh.”
“Beseder. Let’s talk about Sobibor then. How do we take the place? We have no maps, intelligence, or transport.”
“Not so” said Feldhandler. He handed each officer a Xeroxed plan of Sobibor camp, annotated with an estimate of German strength and dispositions.
Yatom looked at the scientist. “History book, again?”
“The history of Sobibor is relatively well-known” said Feldhandler. “I can show you some of the books if you want—I’ve got them in my pack.”
“Not now” said Yatom. “Ron, what do you know about this?”
Shapira looked at the paper. “This seems right. There was a successful revolt at the camp in 1943, so there were dozens survivors who lived to give accounts. These camps did not have large garrisons, a few dozen SS men and Ukrainian guards of poor quality. Almost everybody who arrived at one of these camps was immediately gassed, so they were relatively small.”
“How would you take it?”
“Well, I’d interrogate that guy” said Shapira, pointing at Mueller “and the two engineers. Then, unless they tell us something that suggests it wouldn’t work, I’d drive this train right into the camp and start shooting. With the element of surprise we could overrun the place in thirty minutes.”
“Alright” said Yatom. “Let’s get team Bet over here, develop a plan and put it to the men. And also figure out how to best help these people.”
It was already mid-morning by the time Mofaz and his men arrived at the train, drenched with sweat from their exertions. They’d secured the capsule site and hauled the supplies as far as Yatom’s old command post in the treeline. Mofaz was tired and in a foul mood, but Yatom refused to indulge his pique. “What did you bring?” asked Yatom. “Everything commander” said Mofaz, wiping his brow for a second or third time.
“What is that? How much extra stuff did Feldhandler stow.”
“All heavy shit” exclaimed Ilan, taking over for Mofaz. “Extra rounds for the Tavors—at least a thousand. A few hundred extra for my piece, and two dozen more 40mm grenades” puffed the sniper, putting on a bit of a show. “Plus extra batteries for the MARS devices, thermal sights, NVGs and radios—and two rechargers.”
“Good.”
“He’s also got five additional Uzis along with bandoliers and ammo” added Mofaz. “For what reason I don’t know.”
“Did you.”
“Yeah, we brought them too.”
“And two extra cases of loof” ltzak interrupted. “Major Mofaz insisted that we not leave any loof behind.”
Mofaz shrugged, and cracked a small smile. “I like loof—is that a crime?”
Yatom pulled Mofaz aside and recounted his discussion with Shapira, Feldhandler and Perchansky. As expected, Mofaz objected.
“Look” said Yatom. “I’m not going to force you to do this—and I’ll put it to the men. But once they have all seen what happened on this train I don’t think anyone is going to say no.”
“I just don’t understand what’s going on” said Mofaz. “And neither do you.” The Major paused and wiped his face yet again, then shrugged. “If the men are willing I’ll go to.”
“Good” said Yatom. “We need to make some arrangements for these people and come up with a practical plan.”
At that moment Shapira walked up accompanied by two Jews from the train. One was Jezek, the other the Dutchman who had helped evacuate the trains. Shapira introduced them to Yatom and Mofaz.
“This is Abraham Jezek and William De Jong” said Shapira. “They speak German, and at least for now represent the refugees.” The two men listened carefully to Shapira’s unusual conversational Hebrew, trying to pick out familiar words.
“Ich bin Oberst Yatom, hier ist Major Mofaz said Yatom in halting German. “Where are you from?”
“Prague” said Jezek.
“Holland” said the big Dutchman simply.
“They both have military experience” said Shapira. “De Jong has expressed an interest in joining us.”
“Joining us?” said Yatom. “As what?”
“A fighter. A number of the refugees want to join us. That’s why Feldhandler brought the extra Uzis—didn’t you know?”
“No” said Yatom “I didn’t know. They’ll have plenty of fighting to do on their own. We are not going to stay and protect them—do they know that?”
“They know” said Shapira. “I’ve spoken with Feldhandler. He’s thought this out. We can give groups of these guys some rudimentary training—like in the next few hours—some on the Uzis, some on the German weapons. Or we just give the German weapons to veterans in the group. We take a small group with us—say a dozen and leave some with the refugees.”
“What are they going to do—you can’t train a man in two hours” said Mofaz. “This is just another of Feldhandler’s hair-brained schemes.”
“No” said Shapira. “You don’t understand. These guys went through hell on that train—so did their families. They know that they were going to die. Now they want revenge—to fight. They’ll take bullets instead of us. And if they survive, they’ll form a core of resistance to the Nazis.”
Mofaz removed his helmet, under which he wore a small kippa clipped to the remaining tufts of hair on the top of his head. He wiped his brow again, readjusted the yarmulke, smirked unpleasantly, but stayed silent.
“Lieutenant Shapira if you want to organize this, and lead these men, do it. Take this guy,” said Yatom, pointing at De Jong, “with the other volunteers, but be quick about it. Use Bolander and Ilan—they speak decent German.”