The March

On Sunday I marched. I sang no songs, I wore no flag, I did not cry (because now I don’t). This march was so very different to the march I was used to. This was the March of Remembrance – not the March of the Living.

Every year, for several years now, there is a march which takes place in Krakow to commemorate the liquidation of the Krakow ghetto. It begins in what was once known as Plac Zgody and ends at Plaszow.

Plac Zgody (now Heroes of the Ghetto Square) features heavily in much of the literature written about the Krakow ghetto. It was one of the only open spaces left inside the ghetto which transformed it into a place for socialisation and gatherings for the ghetto inhabitants. It was the square on which the now famous Pharmacy ‘Under the Eagle’ is located. It was the collection point for the various deportations made from Krakow ghetto. It was also where Janina lived whilst she was in the ghetto. Number 4 – she showed me.

Plaszow was a labour camp close to Krakow, but not many people are so well aware of its existence. In fact, it is perhaps one of the most filmed sites of the Holocaust. It was the location of Spielberg’s Schindler’s List. In reality, the movie was filmed in a quarry elsewhere. Plaszow was often the first camp in which survivors of the Nazis initial selections inside Krakow ghetto were sent.

This year was the 65th anniversary of the liquidation of Krakow ghetto. There was a large crowd. I had attached myself to Janina. Or rather, Janina had gripped herself to me. Janina is a beautiful woman. A strong, eloquently spoken, ‘well turned out’ former Krakowian Jew. She hated mess. When she saw something unclean she would inch even closer to me in an effort to stay clean. She is a survivor. After she had muscularly clasped my hand and walked me over to her former house, she also insisted on showing me something else – something far more miraculous. I walked hand in hand with Janina. I was her crutch, she was my guide. She said she remembered the ghetto like the back of her hand. We had walked one street parallel away from the square. At some point she wandered off the pavement and onto the street, and stopped.

‘Well that’s it. Rather unassuming don’t you think?’ She pointed.


It was the sewer drain from which my clean, immaculately dressed Janina had escaped.

***
That evening the museum was host to a very special occasion. It was a ceremony for ten new recipients of Righteous Among the Nations awards. Rather, it was a ceremony for their families – each of these recipients had already passed on. Several generations were represented from each family who arrived. There was a collection of small children whom I got to know well as they continued to approach the bar to buy chocolates.

The Israeli embassy has been given the authority to bestow these awards upon the Poles whose war-time deeds are still being registered. Apparently the office dealing with these claims in Poland is kept constantly busy processing the many people whose stories are only now being revealed. In one instance a grandchild accepted his grandparents award, in another, an Israeli spoke – in a newly learnt, raw Polish – on behalf of her father in law, who had been saved by one of the recipients. The Mayor of Krakow was even present.


It was inexplicably uplifting to be present at such a momentous occasion. It was so encouraging to see all the people who had been affected by one person’s courageous deeds.