Hidden Away (24 page)

Read Hidden Away Online

Authors: J. W. Kilhey

Tags: #Gay, #Historical, #Fiction, #Romance, #General

Before I could duck out of the way, his hand was on my face as he slammed my head back into the bunk. “Cry for me.”

I knew Peter was directly behind him, and although I knew he couldn’t risk intervening, just the knowledge he was there helped. After what seemed like a quarter of an hour, the elder came to pull him off of me. He shoved Ulrich to the side, but the kapo slapped me in the face. “Stop causing trouble, fairy, or I’ll give you to Fleischer’s dogs!”

Clenching my jaw and lowering my eyes, I remained still. Fleischer was an SS officer who was said to release his shepherds on prisoners. I’d over heard some of the kapos talking about a prisoner who’d been killed in this way. They said nothing was left but entrails.

When the kapo had gone, I picked up my bowl and spoon, and dried them with the inside of my dirty jacket. When I could look up without crying, I found Peter staring at me. His jaw was tense, and I knew he wanted to kill Ulrich.

That night, he squeezed my toe, then extended his arm slowly up under the light sheet that covered me. My stomach fluttered and my breath hitched. I reached down and touched his fingers for the first time in so long. Tears rolled from my eyes. He passed me something. I didn’t want to let go of him, but he pulled his hand away. Bringing mine up, I choked back a sob when I saw the piece of bread—
his
bread.

I shook with the force of my tears, even though I drew comfort from his fingers around my toe. My despair was so deep. How I longed to hold him, to be held
by
him! Hunger ate at me from within, while the violence of this hell wore at me from without. Soon I would be nothing but blood and bones, smoke pushed up into the dreary sky.

Hard rain fell the next day. Instead of our regular digging or standing in place, they forced us to play leapfrog. It was the same as the childhood game I played with the boys on my street. The only difference was the intent here was to weaken us further. While Peter and I remained able to perform, two men collapsed from exhaustion. Other prisoners dragged them out of line by their feet, then continued with the “game.” It went on for hours. Each time I finished leaping, an SS man would kick my backside and laugh.

It was only a few days later when we were transferred out of quarantine. I learned that the SS guards had much less interaction with the camp than those new prisoners in quarantine. While it could be seen as a blessing to be farther away from their brutality, it seemed as though the violence from the kapos was worse in the regular blocks.

Peter and myself, along with the other pink triangles, were segregated out and placed in Block 10 with the others. The first day, I realized that the kapos were almost all green triangles. I was from a
good
German family, but inside this place, because I was homosexual, rapists, child molesters, murderers, and petty criminals were placed in charge of me.

No one inside the barrack spoke to us as we entered, but it didn’t matter to me. Peter and I were able to share a bed! We shared it with another man as well, but it meant nothing. My lover and I could feel the heat of each other as we lay in bed. Anything more than that would be too risky, but after long weeks of nothing, it was most welcome.

After morning roll call, we marched down to the quarry in a straight line. The work was backbreaking and nonstop except for the midday meal. Our food didn’t increase, but I saw the rations for those prisoners who did not bear the pink triangle. They received more.

At the quarry, Peter and I sat on a rock together, slurping the soup. We were able to speak to each other in low voices. “Leo gave me up, the bastard!”

My eyes stung. “
I
gave the Gestapo Leo’s name.”

Though I did not look at him, I knew Peter was horrified. I heard him take a deep breath after a moment. Finally I looked and saw whatever expression he’d worn when he realized it was ultimately my fault he was here had been replaced with something soft.

“If you’re here,” I began, “where is he?” “He escaped.”
“You’re lying.”

He licked his lips, then wiped them on the sleeve of his striped jacket. “I saw his body in a heap as they took me to my cell. They threw him in with me and made me lie with him for a night.”

I placed a hand over my mouth. “
Lie
with him.”

“Not like that! Thank God.”
“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Finally, Peter returned his gaze to me.

“I’m the reason you’re here.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Letting my empty bowl and spoon fall to the muddy ground, I said loudly, “Leo!”

“At least I’m with you. I’d been insane with worry when you stopped dropping by. Maybe it’s a blessing. We’ll take care of each other, and when it’s done, we’ll go to France.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but the kapo began barking, “Get back to work!” The meal was over, and it was time to dig up more rocks.

A week went by in our new block, and still I felt unsettled. Different functionaries—my barrack elder, the labor kapo, other block leaders, and even the camp elder himself—all stared at me as I followed the routines set for me.

No one inside our block helped us new inmates out at first. I didn’t understand. We were all homosexuals. Why would we
not
stand for each other? But just as I grew not to care, a man named Emil began to talk. “It was worse before. I heard from others that before I got here, 175ers had to sleep naked with their hands above the sheet because they didn’t want us to touch each other or ourselves. But now there are too many of us to enforce it. And Konrad doesn’t care what we do so long as he looks good to the SS, and he gets what he wants.”

A chill ran through me when Emil said that, looking directly at me. Konrad was the Blockältester for my barrack. I remembered him from the first night in the camp. He was the man whose eyes never left me while the other men circled me.

I understood Emil’s hard expression a few days later when my labor unit’s foreman told me to keep working as everyone else lined up to march back to the camp. Keeping my head down, I continued to dig and pull rocks from the mud. When all other inmates were up above, Luther stood next to me. “Look.”

Body tight and on alert, I looked up as instructed.

“They call that the parachutist’s jump.” When I didn’t respond, he leaned closer to me, causing my breath to hitch. “Do you want to know why?” He didn’t wait for me to respond. His fingers dug into my scalp and he forced my head still.

As I watched, a prisoner was thrown from the wall, landing a few meters in front of me. He was obviously pushed, but I did not see who had done it.

Without anything further, Luther shoved me toward the broken man. I knew without asking what I was to do, so I picked the battered body up and walked to the stairs. At least with him in my arms, I didn’t have to look at the way his flesh had exploded out on impact. The kapo kept pushing my shoulder the entire way up. When we were at the place where the man was thrown, I thought I’d be next, but Luther told me to continue walking.

He trailed behind me as I made my way through the camp with my oozing burden. As sorry as I was for the man I carried, I was glad it was not me. I wanted to drop his body and be done with it, but I knew he would have to be laid out at roll call.

With my fellow inmates inside the barracks, I was alone and even more vulnerable than usual. Despite my acknowledgement of that, it still took me by surprise when I was pushed from behind.

Dropping the body as I fell into the dirt, I managed to brace myself with my hands. The ability to control my own body was taken from me as I was picked up and pushed face first into the side of a barrack.

There were more than just two hands holding me against the wall. There was more than one voice; more than one man’s breath against my skin. I was between two barracks, so the attack was well concealed. Even if I yelled, no one would help me. No one
could
help me. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen, so I willed myself to just let it.

One man on each side of me held my hands tightly to the wall. My trousers were pulled down, and although tears rolled down my cheeks, I vowed not to sob or make a sound.

The promise was involuntarily broken when I was forcibly entered. My knees went weak and every muscle in my body seized in pain.

I cried out wordlessly.

The hot, wet breath on my cheek never stopped, just as the grunting in my ear continued, even after the first man finished. One by one, four men took me in this way, and when they were finished, they released me. I couldn’t stand on my own and landed on the ground with a thud.

For a moment, I stared at the broken body of the prisoner next to me. Hearing voices, but not words, I looked up and saw five men. The fifth was Konrad, my new block elder. He was staring down at me, like he had the first time I’d seen him. The others were in various stages of putting themselves back together, none of them sparing me a look.

Konrad squatted down as the others departed. I flinched away.

 

“They agreed to let me have you, but I had to let them have you first.”

It was an eternity before his words set in. When they did, I began to shake. I’d been raped by four men so
this
man could “have” me. It no longer mattered what I wanted, who I loved. I knew from this moment I belonged to Konrad.

He put his hands under my arms and hoisted me up. I was wobbly on my legs, but tried to shove away from him. Landing on the ground, I struggled for breath. The pain was so intense. I wished they’d just killed me instead. How could I ever face Peter again?

Once more, Konrad picked me up, and this time, he tugged my trousers back in place. “Roll call.”

He practically dragged me back to our barrack, where he dumped me on a lower bunk and told Peter to help me march to the square.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked. “You’re pale.”

I had no words, so I shook my head. At least he could not see the blood that I was sure had seeped onto my pants.

“You’re crying.”

 

I managed to move my weak arms and wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie. What happened?”
“Nothing.”
He was silent for a moment. “They threw

Karl from the wall.”
“I saw.”
“Where were you?”

“Extra work detail.” It was true. I’d been selected to carry back the body.

 

“Why you?”

I’d never been a good liar, so I didn’t try. I pushed myself off the bunk to line up to be counted. I heard his breath hitch, and I knew he saw my trousers. Outside, I saw Konrad had dragged Karl’s body from where I’d dropped him.

“They made you carry him?” Peter’s voice was but a whisper behind me.
I nodded my reply.
“Why you?”
After roll call, we ate our evening meal. I could only manage a spoonful of the soup, then passed my bread to Peter on the sly.
“No,” he said, but I wouldn’t take it back.
When dinner was over, the room elder made us strip under the guise of hygiene inspection. We lined up next to our bunks. I hadn’t had time to wash myself, so my embarrassment doubled. No one around me said anything about the blood I knew they all saw. I could feel Peter’s worried eyes on me, but Konrad entered the room, demanding attention as he “inspected” us.
I did not understand this new world order. Konrad’s friends raped me just hours ago, and he was getting an eyeful of our cocks, but we were the 175ers—the lowest, most vile creatures according to the Nazi regime. Of course, the Jews were in the same situation, but they were kept separate here, just like us, in their own block. I did not know what hell they endured.
Everyone stood at attention as Konrad passed. Those not up to his unspoken standard were kicked in the groin or beaten with his massive fists. If the sheer size of him didn’t scare me, the twisted scar that split his face did. What had he done to earn it, and who could’ve survived a deep gash such as that?
When he got to me, his lips pulled up just enough to be noticeable. “Come here.”
I did.
“Turn around.”
I turned, hating to have to face Peter while this evil man surveyed my backside. I couldn’t meet Peter’s eyes.
“This boy is
mine
! I will kill anyone found touching him, harming him, or even
looking
at him!”
It was well-known in the camps that homosexuality was frowned on by the guards, but since they didn’t usually enter the gates of the camp proper, the practice of kapos taking lovers was widespread.

Fingers wrapped around my wrist, and Konrad pulled me toward the dayroom. Finally, I brought my eyes to Peter’s. His blazed with hatred. I pressed my lips together and shook my head.

Alone with Konrad, I cringed as he ran a hand down my backside. “Shhh. I know you’re hurt. I am no monster… to those who take care of me.” With his hands on my shoulders, he pressed me down.

No words were needed to understand what role I was to fulfill.

When it was all finished, he stroked my head. I hadn’t been shaved again, so the ruffling of my short hair sent a shiver through me. I wasn’t sure if his touch was more or less revolting than what I’d just done.

“You’ll sleep with the others, but when I want you in here, you’ll be in here.”

I kept my head bowed and studied the fingers of my right hand as they picked at the flesh of the left.

“And in return, I’ll protect you. Get you the things you need. A better work assignment. Food.” He shoved a piece of bread under my nose.

I took it but didn’t eat it.

 

“You’ve already cost me a small fortune in cigarettes and booze but—”

“How’d you get cigarettes and alcohol?” I panicked the moment after I interrupted him, but my fears lessened when he began rubbing my shoulders almost tenderly.

“We have ways. What are your skills?” Not sure if he was trying to playfully ask me about my sexual talent, I glanced up at him. “Beyond what you can do on your knees.”

“I play the piano, and I’m decent at arithmetic.” Not that there was much call for either in a place like this.

“Too bad you can’t cook. It’d be good having someone in there. With you in the kitchen, I’d have more to barter with.” He paused and took his hands off my shoulders. “What’s your name anyway?”

“Kurt.”

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