The Secret Holocaust Diaries: The Untold Story of Nonna Bannister (15 page)

This was a time of sadness for me since I didn’t understand what was going on, but I could see the looks of concern in Papa’s eyes, and I knew that we were in trouble. During these times, Mama and Papa were having emotional outbursts between them, since Mama was against sending Anatoly away. But she was trying to reassure me that everything was all right and that this was the right thing to do. For the first time in my life, I resented Papa’s ideas, but there was nothing I could do about it.

THE LAST REUNION •
Grandmother planned a family reunion in 1938, which was the same year Hitler annexed Austria. Every member of the family came. That event proved the final time Nonna’s entire maternal family came together. Nonna remembered this reunion in great detail. She also kept photographs of this event hidden with her throughout the war. These photos have survived to this day.

In the summer of 1938, I remember a family reunion. Everyone in the family was there at Grandmother’s Great House. Even those who lived away from home were there for this reunion. The cherry trees had finished blooming and were loaded with cherries—too green to pick. The other trees were loaded with fruit, which would be ripe in the next few weeks. The orchard was very shady and cool that very special night that we had our dinner in the garden. Grandmother put up two big tables and covered them with tablecloths, and the older members of the family helped Grandmother with the dinner. We children (nine of us) played with the ducks in the pond inside the backyard that Grandmother had built just for the ducks. She even had some water lilies planted there. We would sit there with our feet in the water and feed the ducks. Every one of us had little ducklings named after us.

GRANDMOTHER’S DUCKS •
Nonna had a special love for these ducks. In 1935, Nonna wrote about the ducks: “It rained all night and the pond is overflowing—poor little ducks! My favorite is the one with the white tail—I call him ‘Pierre.’ He comes out of the water and follows me to the gate—wish I could bring him inside the house. (Maybe I could hide him in the basement.)”

After the big meal, which was served Grandmother’s style—all three courses—was finished, we all enjoyed playing games. Between the peach trees and the cherry trees there was a huge swing, and I particularly enjoyed swinging in it. The big orchard had a fence around it, and outside the fence gate, there was a lot of space where we could roam around and play freely. Inside the yard, there were beautiful flowers, and in the very corners of the backyard, there were sunflowers growing—they were so big and bright.

There was a big cottage next to the orchard where Petrovich lived, and however long before that other hired people lived there too. It was a large cottage with small windows, but always there were flower boxes full of pretty flowers planted in them. We children loved to go inside and listen to Petrovich tell us some of his fascinating stories. Next to the cottage, there was a large stable. There were no horses there anymore, and Grandmother used it to store firewood, garden tools, and whatever else had to be put away. The famous sleigh was always parked there against the back of the stable (inside), and Grandmother called it our family heirloom or ornament. It was there like it had been for many years. It was the sleigh used for our rides in the winter (and even long before our time).

That particular night, we all decided that we would sleep outside, since it was really warm that night, and the moon was so full and bright. We all dragged what bedding we could, and each one chose a place. Halina, Zina, Luci, and I decided to sleep close to the swing between two large trees. All the boys wanted to get close to the cottage and invited Petrovich to join them. There was so much laughter and noise all night long that I doubt if there was much sleep at all. I don’t remember what the rest of them did after 2:00 a.m., but Halina and I decided to go back into the house, and sleep in our own beds.

This was one of the happy times when we were all together, especially since no one knew what the future was going to bring the next summer. The memories are sweet, though, like many other happy ones that I have.

22: Remembrances

Editors’ Note:
At this point in her transcripts, Nonna paused her story, picked up her childhood diaries, read through them, and reflected with pen. She opened to different sections and translated them just as she had written them in her childhood.

Here she mentions having written her first diary entry at the age of eight, but in every other place she says she began her diaries at age nine.

1935–36

A
T THE
G
REAT
H
OUSE
: T
IMES OF
U
NCERTAINTY

It is one of those summer nights (sometimes in June), when the windows of the bedroom are open. My bed is near the window, and I lie there listening to all of those little noises that can be heard when the rest of the world is asleep. Somewhere near the window there is a cricket chirping away. Very faintly, but definitely, the little frogs from the near pond are singing their tunes. There is a little breeze coming from the open window, and it gently pets my face.

There is a full moon, and the little shadows from the leaves of the large trees are dancing across the wall—sort of flickering. All of that is as pleasant as a sweet lullaby. Just before I drift away into a peaceful sleep, there is just this last one thing I notice. It is a smell so sweet from the lilacs that were planted right under my window. It is the last thing which I am so aware of, and it is so enjoyable to me, as though a fragrance that was supposed to induce me into a deep sleep. For the rest of my life when I smell lilacs, I am immediately transported to that very night so many years ago. I am embraced so sweetly with the memory that it is almost as if I were there again. These memories make me feel so warm and peaceful.

1938–39

A
NATOLY
I
S
S
ENT
A
WAY

My little heart is torn and I feel so helpless, mostly because I do not understand why these things are happening—why my brother, Anatoly, has to be sent away. I can hardly imagine what it will be like not to have him around. However, there is too much concern in my papa’s eyes, and what they are all talking about makes very little sense to me. I feel so angry because I don’t understand any of their plans, and I really, for the first time in my life, resent Papa’s ideas. I feel so alone and helpless. No matter how hard Mama and Papa tried to talk to me and comfort me with the promise of it all being for the best for Anatoly and the rest of us, I begin to really imagine the worst.

On the days when I’d rather spend some time out of school, I would take my books, and also my music books and ice skates, to school with me. I would leave school during the big recess and make my way to my music school. Sometimes I would go across the street to the theater where Mama and I performed often. I was ballet dancing on the stage, and Mama would accompany my dancing by playing the piano. The theater would be empty (with only the keepers and the cleaning crew there). I would practice my music on the piano with the curtains up so I could see the auditorium. I thought that by doing this, I could imagine the theater was filled with people, and therefore when I had to be on the stage, I would be able to do it without paying any attention to the audience or having any stage-fright spells.

Sometimes, I would be caught by my music teacher, and she would look at me playing as she stood behind the stage. I really would get a lecture from her, and I thought that she would tell my parents about it. But she never did. However, somehow I thought later that my mama and papa knew what I was doing and just let me go on this way. After all, I was making good grades, and our private tutor made trips to our house regularly. The Russian school, and whatever was going on there, bored me extremely. We went to classes every day for eight hours, and had three recesses—two small ones for twenty-five minutes, and one long one for forty-five minutes. I would go through my tests fast, and it angered my teachers.

1939–40

It is springtime in the year 1939. The lilacs are in bloom everywhere, and the clusters are hanging over the fences near everyone’s home. The entire town is filled with the magnificent aroma from the lilacs and other flowers that are in bloom. Almost everyone in town and in this village has an orchard, however small or large it may be, and some of the fruit trees are in bloom also. It is a beautiful sight that can transform one into a world of dreams and hopes.

However, there is a WAR going on! Hitler has invaded Poland. It is the worst war that our country, or the whole of Europe, has ever seen. World War II has been launched, and it is all over the continent. Hitler has decided that he has to have it all—or nothing. Life comes to a halt for almost everyone, and all the dreams and happiness that we lived for are put on hold. The Russians have cut all communications with the West and are suspicious of anyone who makes even the slightest move to contact the outside world. Grandmother dismisses all the hired hands except Petrovich. Our family is extremely worried about what the future holds.

WORLD WAR II •
In August 1939, Hitler and Stalin signed a non-aggression pact dividing Poland between Germany and the Soviet Union (joined by Lithuania and Slovakia within a few months) and preventing the Soviets from defending Poland from German invasion. On September 3, Great Britain and France declared war on Germany.

Anatoly is coming home for his last visit with the family—Grandmother’s brother from Riga, Latvia, is taking him home with him. The entire family is in an emotional and confused state by all that is going on. Mama is not in agreement with sending Anatoly away, but the decision had been made in order to save him from the war. Mama and Papa have many emotional outbreaks between them.

Grandmother’s brother took Anatoly to Riga, and we never saw Anatoly again.

Mama was with child and was having a difficult time dealing with all the emotional stress she was under. Papa was trying to be as helpful as he knew how. These were sad times for everyone, but especially for me. I was so young, and all that I could think of was that I was unhappy over losing my brother and all the other things that were taking place in my world. Mama had a difficult pregnancy because she came down with malaria fever, which she had contracted when she and Papa went fishing and she was bitten by mosquitoes. She developed a high fever and would have bouts of this fever and have to stay in bed. There was very little medical help available, and certainly no modern medicine was available during those years.

Mama was able to carry the baby to full term, and on August 29, 1940, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl whom she named “Taissia,” in honor of her dear friend Mrs. Solzhenitsyna. However, little Taissia was born with the malaria fever, and the disease had caused liver and kidney problems. On September 3, little Taissia died, and I saw my papa cry for the first time. These were truly some of the hardest times of my life, but with my grandmother’s help, I was able to overcome my sadness.

BABY TAISSIA •
Nonna wrote this poem, dedicated to Anatoly, in April of 1945. Her reference to “three days” conflicts with her recollections of the baby’s birth and death dates, which would have made her five days old.

BABY TAISSIA

We had a little sister, brother.

She looked so small, her eyes so blue.

Taissia, was she named by mother—

To me she was a doll, no substitute for you.

Three days had passed since she was born.

They moved her from the crib to the divan.

Our Mama stood there—her heart was torn,

Then Angels took her babe to Heaven.

Our home was filled with sorrow, brother,

And I saw Papa cry again.

You should be here to comfort Mother;

I longed to see you, though in vain.