ZOFIAKUBAR
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but the Russian soldiers, brave veterans of many battles , automat–
ically protected their heads or threw themselves on the ground. We
did not have this reflex . One of the soldiers, surprised that we lacked
this natural defense mechanism, asked why we behaved so strangely.
His question made us realize that we had been deprived of some part
of the natural life instinct. In our minds there was only one threat :
the Nazis . We were impervious to the fear of death in any cir–
cumstances other than capture by the Germans . For us the war had
ended at the very moment we saw the first Russian soldier on Polish
soil, though the war went on for almost a year and many more peo–
ple would die .
Our small group - Danka and the child , Celinka and I , and the
neighbor with his infant-continued the strenuous walk. Suddenly
Bogdan began to cry; he was hungry. Danka sat down to nurse him
in the shade of the solitary tree we found. Close to her stood the man
holding his miserable infant. Danka, in the habit of asking my ap–
proval for everything she did, looked at me and said , "You know, I
have more milk than I need for Bogdan . I think I can also nurse this
man's baby."
I was expecting this ; undoubtedly this was why he had joined
our party . When Bogdan had been fed , the other baby eagerly seized
Danka's breast and began to suck.
After we had walked about ten miles to the east, we reached a
village named Zanecin, where we went from one cottage to another
asking in vain for shelter.
Finally a poor peasant family agreed to let us stay in a small va–
cant room, and gave us straw pallets to spread on the floor. Our
neighbor found a place nearby, much more comfortable than ours .
He had money . We had , the three of us , about twenty
zlotys.
Predict–
ably , the peasants demanded exorbitant prices for everything; they
were looking forward to accommodating more refugees , who would
have to pay what they asked .
When it darkened , Celinka and I went to dig potatoes : we also
found some rotten carrots and other vegetables which the peasants
had considered inedible. They tasted good to us. And our neighbor,
who seemed to be rolling in money, brought milk and food to Danka
which she insisted on sharing with us .
Half a mile from the village we found a pond where we could
bathe , there being no facilities in the cottage . We had to be sparing
with the one bar of soap in our possession . But we were to get a
windfall: next day I was given more bars of soap by a Russian major
from Leningrad who arrived at the village with his units.
