Authors: Leon Uris
“If you will go on to read, Sir Robert we refer to latent cancer which did not show up for nine or ten years.”
“I suggest that in the eyes of a prisoner/doctor faced with unskilled irradiation, the effect of such irradiation could be in doubt.”
“Sounds more like an excuse to me.”
Highsmith knew he’d better drop it. “No further questions.”
O’Conner arose. “Sir Francis. The statistics you used in your pamphlet. Where did you get them?”
“From the American Bomb Casualty Commission.”
“To what conclusion?”
“The incidence of leukemia in those exposed to irradiation was less than a third of one percent.”
“And this evidence was not handed down until many years after the war.”
“Yes.”
“Have you read the medical war crimes trials at Nuremberg on the same question?”
“I have.”
“To what conclusion?”
“There was no evidence to prove that irradiation is a possible cause of cancer.”
19
D
ANIEL
D
UBROWSKI, THE WITHERED
remains of a once strapping robust man, approached the witness box a portrait of abject tragedy, a thing, a vegetable who had not laughed for twenty years. Time and again Bannister and the judge asked him to speak up as he gave his home as Cleveland in America and his birthplace in Wolkowysk, then in Poland and now a part of the Soviet Union. At the beginning of World War II he was married, had two daughters, and taught Romantic languages in a Jewish gymnasium.
“Did something particular happen to you in 1942?”
“I was transported with my family into the Warsaw Ghetto.”
“And later, you took part in the uprising?”
“Yes, in the spring of 1943 there was a rebellion. Those of us who had survived till then lived deep below the ground in bunkers. The fight against the Germans lasted over a month. In the end, when the ghetto was in flames, I took to the sewers and escaped to the forest and joined a band of Polish underground.”
“What happened?”
“The Poles didn’t want any Jews among them. We were betrayed. The Gestapo seized us, and we were transported to Jadwiga.”
“Would you continue and please speak up, sir.”
Daniel Dubrowski lowered his head and sobbed. As the court fell into silence the reporter wrote:
THE WITNESS BECAME DISTRESSED
. Gilray offered a recess, but Dubrowski listlessly shook his head and gained his composure.
“Would his Lordship and my learned friend object if we spared Mr. Dubrowski recounting the details of the demise of his wife and daughters?”
“No objection.”
“May I lead the witness?”
“No objection.”
“Is this all correct? You were taken from a munitions factory to Barrack III at the end of the summer of 1943 and subsequently irradiated in Barrack V and had a testicle removed in the same group of operations as the previous witnesses.”
“Yes,” he whispered, “that is correct.”
“And Dr. Tesslar was present at your operation and later during your recovery.”
“Yes.”
“Three months after the removal of your first testicle, you and Moshe Bar Tov, then known as Herman Paar, were irradiated a second time.”
“Yes.”
“We can assume, can we not, from Mr. Bar Tov’s testimony that he was not sterilized the first time and that Colonel Voss wanted to have a second go at it and perhaps you had not been sterilized either. Was the second X-ray of longer duration?”
“About the same time, but I heard them speak of heavier dosage.”
“Would you tell my Lord and the jury what transpired?”
“After our second exposure to the X-ray we had no doubt but that it would only be a matter of time until we were operated on again and made into eunuchs. Menno Donker,” he said in reference to Pieter van Damm, “had already been entirely castrated so we realized we would not be spared. There was a corpse one morning as there often was, and Dr. Tesslar came to me to speak over the matter of buying off the Kapo guards with a false death registration. It meant either Herman Paar or myself. We were the two waiting for second surgery.
“I made the decision that Paar must be spared. He was the youngest and had a chance for life. I already had lived and had a family.”
“And so, Paar assumed the dead man’s identity and never was operated on a second time and you were. Did Paar know of this decision?”
Dubrowski shrugged.
“I’m so sorry,” Mr. Justice Gilray said, “the shorthand writer cannot record a gesture.”
“He was only a boy. I did not discuss this with him. It was the only human thing to do.”
“Would you tell us about your second operation?”
“This time four SS guards came for me. I was beaten, tied and gagged, and dragged to Barrack V. They took the gag from my mouth as I almost choked, then they pulled my pants off and bent me over for a needle in the spine. Although I was bound, I continued to struggle. I screamed and fell to the floor.”
“What happened?”
“The needle broke.”
The courtroom held a mass of queasy stomachs. Eyes were turning to Adam Kelno more often now and he was becoming studied at avoiding contact.
“Go on, sir.”
“I writhed on the floor. Then I heard someone over me speaking in Polish. From the build and voice it was the same doctor who had operated on me the first time. He was in his operating gown and had a mask over his face, and he complained he was waiting for his patient I cried up to him ...”
“What did he do?”
“He slammed his heel into my face and cursed me in Polish.”
“What did he say?”
“ ‘
Przestan szezekak jak pies itak itak mrzesz.
’ ”
“What does that mean?”
“Stop barking like a dog. You will die, anyhow.”
“What happened then?”
“I was given another needle and placed on a stretcher. I begged to be spared another operation. I said, ‘
dlaczego mnie operujecie jeszcze raz prziciez juzescie mnie ras operowali.
Why operate on me again? I have been operated on once.’ He continued to be rude and brutal to me.”
“In Jadwiga you were used to being spoken to like that by Germans.”
“Always.”
“But you were Polish and this doctor was Polish.”
“Not exactly. I was a Jew.”
“How long had your family been Polish citizens?”
“Almost a thousand years.”
“Did you expect to be spoken to like this by a Polish doctor?”
“It came as no surprise. I know a Polish anti-Semite when I hear one.”
“I am going to ask the jury,” Gilray interjected, “to put the last sentence out of their heads. Do you want to leave it at that, Mr. Bannister?”
“Yes, my Lord. Go on, Mr. Dubrowski.”
“Voss entered in SS uniform and I appealed to him. The doctor then spoke to me in German. He said, ‘
Ruhig.
’ ”
“Are you fluent in German?”
“In a concentration camp you learn many German words.”
“What did he mean by, ‘
Ruhig?
’ ”
“Silence.”
“I am going to rise,” Sir Robert said, “This testimony is a continuation of unproved innuendo that Dr. Kelno was the person who performed this operation. This time my learned friend is not even suggesting that Tesslar was present but that the witness thinks it was the same man who operated earlier. The implication goes deeper because of a conversation held in the Polish language. I suggest an extraordinary amount of liberty has been taken in some of the translations. For example, the word
ruhig
is used in the Heine poem,
Lorelie
as gently. Gently flows the Rhine. If he had meant shut up he would have more likely said,
halte maul.
”
“I see your point, Sir Robert. I take note that Dr. Leiberman is among the spectators today. Would you kindly approach the bench and bear in mind you are still under oath. German is your mother tongue, is it not, Dr. Leiberman?”
“It is.’
“How would you translate,
ruhig
?”
“In this context it is a command to shut up. Any concentration camp survivor will testify to that.”
“What do you do now, Mr. Dubrowski?”
“I have a used clothing store in a Negro neighborhood of Cleveland.”
“But you are still qualified as a teacher of Romantic languages, are you not?”
“I have no desires left. Perhaps ... that is why I submitted to the second operation in place of Paar. ... I have been dead since my wife and daughters were taken from me.”
Moshe Bar Tov had been brought into the consultation room and while Dubrowski underwent cross-examination, Dr. Leiberman and Abraham Cady left the courtroom and he was told for the first time about the other man’s sacrifice.
“Oh my God!” he wailed in anguish. He fell against the wall and pounded his fist on it and wept. In a little while the door opened and Daniel Dubrowski entered. Moshe Bar Tov turned to face him.
“I think we’d better leave them alone,” Abe said.
20
THEY’RE ALL GONE NOW EXCEPT HELENE PRINZ, THE LADY FROM ANTWERP. DR. SUSANNE PARMENTIER IS WITH HER SO SHE’LL BE ALL RIGHT.
THEY’VE GONE BACK TO ISRAEL AND HOLLAND AND TRIESTE. I AM GOING TO MISS THE GENTLE DR. LEIBERMAN LIKE HELL.
MOSHE BAR TOV LEFT STILL IN SHOCK OF THE REVELATION OF THE TRIAL. HE INDUCED DANIEL DUBROWSKI TO COME TO HIS KIBBUTZ FOR A WHILE, TO SHOWER HIM WITH LOVE, TO WEEP AWAY HIS GUILT TO THE ONE WHO GAVE HIM HIS MANHOOD.
I FELT SO EMPTY WATCHING THEM LEAVE. A FAREWELL DINNER, TOASTS, LITTLE GIFTS, AND LOTS OF TEARS. WHAT THEY DID HERE TOOK A SPECIAL KIND OF COURAGE I STILL DO NOT COMPREHEND, BUT I DO KNOW THAT BECAUSE OF IT THEY WILL ALWAYS OWN A FLEETING MOMENT IN HISTORY.
SHEILA LAMB TOOK THEIR DEPARTURE THE HARDEST. FROM THE INSTANT THEY ARRIVED SHE TOOK THEM IN WITH DETERMINATION NOT TO LET THEM FALTER OR FEEL UNLOVED.
SHE WAS PRESENT WHEN THE WOMEN WERE EXAMINED. WHEN SHE SAW THEIR SCARS SHE DID NOT LET HERSELF GIVE AN OUTWARD INDICATION OF THE REVULSION SHE FELT.
AT THE FAREWELL DINNER AT LADY SARAH’S, SHEILA SUDDENLY LEFT THE TABLE AND RAN TO THE BATHROOM AND BROKE INTO TEARS. THE WOMEN WENT AFTER HER. SHE LIED TO THEM THAT SHE WAS UPSET BECAUSE HER PERIOD WAS COMING ON. BECAUSE NONE OF THEM HAD PERIODS, IT TURNED INTO A MOMENT OF EXCITEMENT AND THEN, LAUGHTER.
I WASN’T ALLOWED TO GO TO HEATHROW TO SEE THEM OFF. I DON’T KNOW WHY. THE BRITISH MIND THEIR OWN BUSINESS.
BEN AND I WALKED LIKE WHAT SEEMED FOREVER ALONG THE THAMES EMBANKMENT TRYING TO EQUATE ALL OF WHAT WAS HAPPENING. WE CAME UPON THE IMMENSE LAWNS OF THE TEMPLE AND WERE DRAWN UP MIDDLE TEMPLE LANE.
IT WAS ONE IN THE MORNING BUT THE LIGHTS WERE STILL BURNING IN THE CHAMBERS OF THOMAS BANNISTER AND BRENDON O’CONNER. WANT TO KNOW ABOUT THOSE PEOPLE? O’CONNER HASN’T SPENT AN EVENING WITH HIS FAMILY SINCE TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE TRIAL STARTED. HE TOOK A SMALL ROOM AT A NEARBY HOTEL SO HE COULD WORK AROUND THE CLOCK. OFTEN AS NOT HE SLEPT ON THE COUCH IN HIS CHAMBERS.
EVERY DAY AFTER COURT, SHEILA TRANSCRIBED THE TESTIMONY AND DELIVERED IT TO THE TEMPLE. O’CONNER, ALEXANDER, AND BANNISTER STUDIED IT ALONG WITH THE NEXT DAY’S WORK AND EVERY NIGHT AT ELEVEN O’CLOCK THEY MET AND WORKED UNTIL TWO OR THREE IN THE MORNING. WEEKENDS WERE A BLESSING. THEY GOT TO WORK STRAIGHT THROUGH.
AND SHEILA? WELL, HER DAY STARTED AT SEVEN IN THE MORNING IN A HOTEL WITH THE WITNESSES. SHE’D BREAKFAST WITH THEM, GET THEM TO COURT CALM, DO HER DAY’S WORK IN COURT, TRANSCRIBE THE TESTIMONY, EAT DINNER WITH THEM AND TAKE THEM TO THE THEATER, MUSEUMS, OUR PRIVATE DINNERS, AND ON THE WEEKEND TO THE COUNTRYSIDE. SHE WAS THERE WITH THEM EACH NIGHT COMFORTING THEM, OUT DRINKING WITH THE MEN OR WHATEVER WAS NEEDED OF HER. I WATCHED HER AGE BEFORE MY EYES FROM THE HURT INSIDE HER.
BEN AND I WALKED FROM THE TEMPLE AND STOOD BEFORE THE LAW COURT. I LOVE THE ENGLISH. I COULDN’T BELIEVE THESE PEOPLE WOULD GO AGAINST ME.
LOOK AT THE QUEUES ON OXFORD STREET. NO PUSHING, NO CUTTING IN LINE. FORTY MILLION PEOPLE JAMMED TOGETHER IN WEATHER SO FOUL IT DRIVES THE SCANDINAVIANS TO MADNESS. AND FROM IT ALL A SYSTEM OF ORDER BASED ON RESPECT OF ONE’S NEIGHBORS AND THE REASONABLE ASPIRATIONS OF LIFE WITH THE ULTIMATE REWARDS OF KNIGHTHOOD.
LOOK AT THE CALM WAY THEY HAVE TAKEN THE NEW GENERATION. IT ALL STARTED HERE IN ENGLAND. MUSTACHED MEN IN POST STRIPES, BOWLERS, AND UMBRELLAS IN THE QUEUES BEHIND A CHICK WITH HER SKIRT UP TO HER ASS AND IS FRONT OF A BOY WHO LOOKS LIKE A GIRL.
A BOBBY PASSES US BY AND PUTS A FINGER TO HIS CAP TO SALUTE. HE DOESN’T CARRY A GUN. CAN YOU IMAGINE THAT IN CHICAGO?
EVEN THE PROTESTERS ABIDE BY THE RULES. THEY PROTEST WITH REASONABLE NONVIOLENCE. THEY DON’T SMASH GLASS OR BURN OR RIOT. THEY PROTEST ANGRILY, BUT FAIRLY, AND IN TURN THE POLICE DON’T BASH THEM ABOUT.
HELL, NO BRITISH JURY IS GOING TO DO ME IN
.
Ben and his father were in the kind of mood to talk the night out when they returned to the mews.
“What about Vanessa and Yossi. That boy going to be able to make her happy?”
“He’s an officer in the paratroops,” Ben said. “He’s been confined in Israel all his life with his back to the sea. You know how tough he is. I think this trip has been good for him. It’s good for him to see gentle, gracious, and sophisticated people. He tries to pass it off, but London has impressed him deeply. Now that he’s seen it, more and more of Vanessa will rub off on him.”
“Hope so. He’s a brain all right.” Abe loaded his glass. Ben held his hand over the rim of his, not wanting anymore. “You’re picking up bad habits in Israel, like not drinking.”
Ben laughed. It was a wide, uninhibited laugh. He was full of the devil. Then, he turned serious. “Vinny and I hate to see you keep on going through life alone.”
Abe shrugged. “I’m a writer. I’m alone in the middle of a crowded ballroom. That’s my bag.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t be so alone if you started looking back at women like Lady Sarah the way she looks at you.”
“I don’t know, son. I think maybe your uncle Ben and you and I were all molded out of the same kind of cast. None of us can stand most women socially for more than fifteen minutes. They’re only good for balling and not too many of them pass the grade at that. Our problem is that we like to be around men. Air bases, locker rooms, bars, fight clubs, where we don’t have to listen to female dribble. Then, you find a woman like Sarah Wydman who is about as complete as a woman can be and even that’s not enough. She can’t be a man and a woman at the same time. But even if she understood this need I don’t think any woman deserves to take the crap of being a writer’s wife. I busted your mother. If a woman’s got anything to give, I drain her. I’m happy that I’m a writer, but I sure wouldn’t want my daughter to marry one.”