I should have seen it coming. I should have seen the signs that the dream I was living was about to die. Perhaps if I had I could have prevented the death of my family. Perhaps I could have convinced my father to move away from Danzig to America like so many others had done.  Now I sit here writing my story for future generations, hoping that an atrocity like this can never happen again. My name is Eryc Vansk, and this is my story.

            The first signs appeared long before Hitler moved his armies across the border. I remember speaking with my dad, Henryk, when I was six about why the Germans in Danzig treated us so badly.

            “I’ll tell you when you are older,” he said.

            My father had been a conscript in the Russian Army during the First Great War when he still lived in Russian occupied Warsaw. He was one of the few Polish conscripts from his hometown to make it back after the conflict. He moved into Danzig after the war had ended in order to carry out his real profession as a civil engineer. It was in this city that he met my mother, Lena, who he would marry and later have me and my little sister Catherine.

            I still wonder to this day why my father decided to move to Danzig when tensions were so high. The city used to be a part of Germany before the war, and many of its native inhabitants still remained. They heckled us in the streets, called us dirty Poles and many other obscenities. The worst of them all, however, were the Nazis.

            They had come in during the elections in 1936 and had won a majority over our city council. I was nine at the time, but I still remember how one Nazi politician stood in the city center shouting about the Aryan race’s number one enemy: the Jews.

            “Dad,” I asked one winter night, “Why do the Nazis hate us so much?”

            My dad trembled as he laid his silver fork down on the table. My mother looked to him concerned before he began to speak,

            “What the Nazis or Hitler think of us do not matter. The thoughts of a few simple minded fools won’t change anything about the town.”

            “But, Helga says she can’t play with me anymore since I’m a Jew!” cried Catherine who was six at the time, “She says her father told her that she can’t play with filthy-“

            “That is ENOUGH, Catherine.” Father’s face turned a dark shade of red as he yelled, “Both of you go to your rooms!”

            “But dad-“I stammered,

            “NOW!”

            I went to bed with a tight knot in my stomach that night. The emotion that my dad had conveyed that night shook me to my core, and would serve as the warning for what was going to happen next.

September 1, 1939

            It had been three years since the Nazi party had won control of Danzig, and tensions between the Polish and the Germans living in the city was reaching a boiling point. I was twelve at the time, just beginning to return to school in the following days. My sister had grown in the last three years. Now nine, she wished to become a famous dancer and travel around the world gathering fame, money, and recognition. I myself was walking dockside with my friend, Alexander, when it happened.

            BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! A violent sound shook the ground we walked,

            “What in the name of god was that?!” I asked ears ringing,

            “Whatever it is,” Alex began, “It can be good.”

            Suddenly, out of nowhere, a squad of planes flew over the city, the roar of their engines reverberating throughout the city. As the planes flew by, the people along to docks began to run for safety, passing Alex and I by as they ran for cover.

            “Hey, what’s happening?” I called out to one bystander,

            “The Germans! They are attacking Westerplatte! They’ve crossed over the border into Poland!”

            My eyes widened with shock as the man relayed the news. I had heard about Hitler’s threats against Poland for a while but I never thought that he would actually carry them out. Why is he doing this? I asked myself, why is this happening?! I stood frozen, unable to move from the emotion flowing through me in that moment.

            “Eryk!” Alex shook me, “you need to get back to your parents and sister, and I’ll look for mine. Go, GO!”

            With this encouragement I jumped into a sprint through the crowded streets of Danzig dodging past pedestrians and other citizens as I made my way through. None of them mattered; all that mattered was that my family was safe. I ran with a speed I had not seen before driving me towards my home after a few minutes. When I entered I found my parents and sister rapidly packing cash, clothing, and food.

            My mother was the first to see me,

            “Eryk? Oh thank goodness!”

            “Are you alright son are you hurt?!” my father asked as he came over to check me over.

            “I’m fine, I’m fine, what are you doing? The Germans just attacked the city!” I shouted, fear emanating from my voice.

            “Yes, Yes I know that,” my father responded, “but we need to leave now. If you think that the Nazis here were bad, we’ve got something much worse approaching. Now go upstairs and bring anything you can’t live without. Go, now!”

            With my father’s words still fresh in my head, I leaped with a new vigor upstairs to my room. In the corner near the window stood a desk covered with books and other trinkets. Next to my desk stood my dresser and bed both being polished wood furniture. I rushed quickly to find some of the things I needed to take with me on this extended absence from my home. I grabbed a few pairs of pants and shirts and was preparing to grab another pair of socks before a sight caught my eye outside the window.

            In the street leading up to our house stood a few squads of Polish soldiers valiantly defending against a horde of blonde haired German troops. From the look on the young Polish troop’s faces, Eryk knew that they would soon be overwhelmed. With his items packed in a book bag, he came back downstairs where the rest of his family had finished their own packing.

            “The Germans are coming up the street,” my father said to my mom, “We’ll go out of the backdoor and to the outskirts of town. I have a friend that lives in Tczew that we can go to, be we need to go quickly!”

            With a collective nod, my family and I poured out the back door of our Danzig home now beginning the task of escaping the besieged city. Little did I know at the time I would never see it again. My father led our family through the chaotic streets of the city, avoiding the all too common firefights between Germans and Polish soldiers; this was no easy task. It was rapidly becoming evident to my father that the Germans were surrounding Danzig attacking from both the west and the east from Osprussen. Whenever we had thought we had escaped a new German unit appeared to block our way. Whenever we believed the path was clear, a German bomb or a German tank blocked our way.

            “No! No, no, no NO! This can’t be happening!” my father bellowed as once again our escape was blocked, “There must be a way to escape from the city without the Germans catching on!”

            At that moment, I looked to the ground, pondering any solution that could bring my family to safety. At my feet I saw a manhole, one of which lead to the sewers that crisscrossed the layout of Danzig. An idea popped into my head,

            “The sewers, Dad,” I said, “They lead out of the city. Maybe if we go through there we can find a way out!”

            “Good thinking, Eryk. Now come on let’s go!”

            My father pulled off the covering of the manhole leading into the sewer. One by one my family lowered themselves into the dark passages of the gutter with my father being the last. As soon as I was down there the first thing that hit me was the smell which permeated the area. My nose was alight with the smell of dung and excrement which brought tears to my already reddened eyes.

            “We have to keep moving,” my father egged us on as he began to wad forward in the gunk at our feet. He had to crouch as to keep his head from hitting the ceiling as he led us through the sewer. I do not know how long we were in there, for it seemed as if hours passed every waking minute. It was sometime later that we finally saw the light of day once more as we came out on the other end of the sewer line.

            It was refreshing to catch a clean breath of hair after wading through a nauseous stench for what seemed like hours. We emerged on the side of a small road leading back to Danzig. There seemed to be nothing in sight except for a few hills and trees further off.  The Sun still shined brightly in the middle of the sky telling me instantly it was around noon.

            “What do we do now?” my sister asked curiously,

            “We walk,” my Father responded as he began to lead us on down the road.

            My feet already burned from the journey through the sewer line, but I forced them into moving alongside my family. Smoke rose in the distance, most likely from further Nazi attacks, and the sky seemed to vibrate with the screech of German planes flying over Poland. As we walked my mind wandered to my friend Alex and if he had made it out of the city alive. He had said that he was he was going to find his family, but with the assault on the city coming from the western side of the city, Alex’s house was one of the first to be reached. I uttered a short prayer for his safety before my father suddenly spoke,

            “Stop…” he said, “Quickly hide in those trees! Me and your mother will take care of this.”

            I didn’t know why my father and suddenly asked us to stop in that moment but still I ran with my sister to hide in a nearby cluster of trees and flora. From my vantage point I had a clear view of what my father had warned us to hide from: a car full of German soldiers was riding towards our parents.

            “What are they gonna do?” my sister asked coming from behind me to catch a better look.

            I quickly shushed her before pushing her back behind me. Just before my parents the car came to a stop and two German soldiers emerged from the back. One soldier was smoking a cigarette while the other wore a cap emblazoned with a Nazi eagle and swastika.

            The one wearing the cap was the first to speak,

            “What are you doing here? This is an unauthorized area.”

            “We are traveling. My name is Vilkas and this is my wife Elena.”

            “You are trespassing in a military occupation zone under the control of the Deutsches Reich as of  September 1, 1939.” Barked  the officer.

            “Danzig is under the control of the League of  Nations,” my father retorted, “The Furher has no control here.”

            “I beg to differ.” The officer looked past my father and looked  to the trees my sister and I hid in. He stared straight into my eyes,

            “You and your family are Jews aren’t they?” the officer pulled out a gun,

            “Eryk, RUN!”

            BANG! BANG! Two deafening sounds rang through the air. My hair stood motionless on my head as I looked at the scene before me. I grabbed my sister's hand and began to run with her. Hearing not far behind us as leaves were crushed under the boots of the soldiers. None of that mattered. The only instinct I knew was the run. For one simple truth hung in my mind. One single thought remained fixated in my head: My parents were dead.

Hidden

            My sister and I were thankfully able to lose the soldiers in the woods after an unrelenting chase. We cried profoundly that night; knowing that the people who had taken care of us our entire lives now lay dead by the side of the road. By the next day we had to continue forward; I was determined to complete my father’s mission in reaching Tczew. It was not far from Danzig, and it was clear by the time we got there that the Germans had already moved in to occupy it.

            The city, like Danzig, was a majority German hobble. So as the Nazis marched through the streets they received cheers and blessings for the war to come. It was not easy for me and my sister to make it to the address my father had described. We paused every time a soldier or civilian walked by, cautious about what our discovery would bring. I knocked on the door of the address and a man named Karl Krupp answered the door. He had been a friend of my father’s down in Warsaw and had agreed to help my family if the Germans attacked. He welcomed Catherine and I into his home and implored us to hide in his attic. Little did I know that I would be spending the next five years in that room.

            Sometimes it was hard; just staying in that room for five years of my life. Karl was German, so he was given more leeway than most in his situation. The soldiers did not check as often, and even when they did, they did a poor job of it; Though that knowledge did not calm my senses. Whenever the Nazis entered the home of Karl I feared that one would become curious enough to check upstairs in the attic only to discover my sister and me. Sheer will was the only thing that keep my breathing silent.

            As the war dragged on things deteriorated. News came in every day through way of Karl about German defeats and setbacks in Russia and North Africa. With that less and less of his food went to us, but was demanded to be placed on the war front. Searches became more common; There was a fear of traitors among the Nazis that hid Jews and aided the Soviets. We had to move from the attic to the cellar, as one soldier came close to discovering us. My thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth birthdays went without celebration, and another was soon to follow before I heard explosions in the distance.

            BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Artillery! I thought, The Soviets must be nearing the town! And indeed I was right. Days later, as the sun had just begun to rise, the first Soviet tanks rode through the city on their way to Berlin. Most cheered while they past, while others murmured that we had exchanged one dictator for another. It mattered little to me that day. All I knew was that in the first time in five years, I was finally free.