All language subtitles for la travesia 2005

A film by Lena Einhorn

NINA'S JOURNEY

The first time I remember my mother
hugging me was on our journey...

...by horse and cart
from £ódŸ till Warsaw.

It was extremely cold.

She hugged me, I assume both
to comfort me and to keep me warm.

It took three days
to travel the hundred kilometres-

- from £ódŸ to Warsaw.

We slept on floors
at farms along the route.

... as told by Nina Einhorn

Director of photography
Dan Myhrman, fsf

Producer
Kaœka Krosny

Written and directed by
Lena Einhorn

Nineczka...

Ninka!

Hurry up! Staœ has already
got our things into the carriage.

Ninka... Buck up! Or you'll
have to swim across the ocean.

Ninuœ, we must hurry, or Mama will
be storming in like a thunder cloud.

The sparrow scratched the stork
So tired he couldn't walk

Then they changed... Changed.

Ninuœ, not many people
get to go on a journey like yours.

- Perhaps not.
- Yours and Mama's.

I've already been given a nickname
at school - 'The American'.

July 1937

- Mama...
- Yes?

Why didn't you go with your family
to America? You were so young then.

I don't know.

Don't know? How could you stay
behind, all on your own in Europe?

I was to study medicine in Belgium.

Not all poor Jewish girls from Russia
got a chance like that.

But you could've studied in America.

At last my mother was able
to visit her family, in 1937.

When we arrived in New York-

- there was a sea of people
waiting for Mama and me.

They waved and shouted: "Faygele!"

That is what she was called
as a little girl in Bialystok.

We went to America in July 1937.
We were to stay for three months.

But, during that time,
my grandfather fell ill.

When he fell ill-

- my mother, Fanny,
felt she should stay there.

And so I went to school
for almost a year, in New York.

Fanny was a very strong personality.

She seldom gave vent to her feelings.

Yet, to me, she was a rock-

- and the most important person
in my childhood, beyond any doubt.

Faygele, I have never understood
why you stayed behind.

Especially when he had died.

Fanny had a photograph album-

- in which there was a picture
of a very handsome young man.

When I asked her
who it was, I noticed...

...there was
something special about him.

She just said that his name
was Szymon. That was all.

I heard, at third hand, not
from my mother, but from my aunt-

- that she was in love with a man
who was to study in Liege-

- and she decided to go to Liege too,
to study medicine there.

That young man was from
a very well-to-do Bialystok family-

- something Mama was not.

According to Aunt Mary,
he was called to Bialystok-

- when his mother became ill.
When he got there-

- he had to promise his mother
that he would never marry Fanny.

He did promise;
then he committed suicide.

Mama met my father, Artur-

- who was studying at Liege
at that time.

She went back with Artur to Poland,
to £ódŸ, and they got married.

Rudek was born in 1914-

- and Mama never
completed her degree.

I don't think my mother was bitter.

I think she adapted very well-

- to the circumstances of her life.

- Two, please. No, one.
- Going to fleece us again, Fania?

- But Micia, we're playing for matches!
- Matches cost money too.

Three, please.

I loved my life in Poland,
my childhood was very happy.

There was such a feeling
of community among those people.

They were all Jews-

- all good friends or cousins,
or related in some way.

Artur... what do you think?

That corporal is a real nutcase.

- Strange. People of such culture...
- Really? You mean that, Jasiek?

I don't know... It seems to be mostly
straight-arm and goose-marching.

It's good you shaved
your moustache off, Rudek.

My son - the lawyer-to-be - should
not resemble that Austrian corporal.

Should he, Tereska?

Rudek always looks splendid,
with or without moustache.

Nina! Celinka!

Yes, Grandmama?

There are tartlets for the children,
and my homemade lemonade.

Rysio, you just can't wait, naturally.

Take these, Ninka...

And this, Celinka.

Rysio...

...go and help them
eat up the tartlets.

Rysio, would you like one?

I was very fond of Rysio,
very, very fond of him.

Lunch is served, everybody!

Nina?

I don't want to,
I don't want to, I don't want to!

My dear Fanny,
we are having certain problems.

The situation for the Jews in Poland
is worsening.

Rudek may no longer sit in the
Assizes, nor be a reserve officer.

I wish to speed our departure.

Find out if we can come to America
earlier than planned.

I cried and cried; and my relatives
couldn't get any sense out of me.

Mama said: "Calm yourself.
They won't be coming tomorrow."

"This requires long-term planning."
And she calmed me.

But after that,
all Papa's letters were in Russian-

- so I wouldn't be able to understand.

To the whole German people!

I declare this
the Day of the Great German Reich!

Raise the flags!

He died at some point
in April, I believe.

When they started campaigning
to convince me to stay-

- I refused to listen.

I would never even consider
remaining there on my own-

- even if I understood that the whole
family was eventually to come over.

The whole thing ended up
in May 1938-

- with our sailing home
in the Pilsudski, back to Poland.

I never regretted
not staying in the States. Never.

1 September, 1939

Forgive me, Ninka.

For what, Mama?

When we left our home in £ódŸ-

- my whole world collapsed. It did.

Won't we soon be in Warsaw, Staœ?

The Germans were in £ódŸ
within five days.

My parents decided
to move us to Warsaw-

- when the £ódŸ Ghetto was opened.

Warsaw was
General Government territory.

If we moved there, we thought
we would avoid ghettos.

Papa and Rudek had already gone
to Warsaw in December 1939.

Rudolf had a girlfriend in Warsaw;
her name was Teresa Goldman.

It was decided-

- that Papa and Rudolf were to
go to the Goldmans, which they did.

We've been so worried!

I met Staœ downstairs.

- Rudek!
- Welcome, Mama.

Give me your coat.

Give me your coat, Mama.

Where is Tereska?

Ninuœ...

- Tereska is in the USSR.
- In Russia?

Yes. She managed to get there...

- And you, Rudek?
- I'm fine. I'll stay here with you.

That was all he said...

...that was all that anyone ever said
about his not going with Teresa.

He felt a tremendous sense of duty
towards the family.

I remember that period
as not being especially eventful-

- apart from its being sad in some
way. We were very short of money.

But, as for me, I studied.

And Mama, from the very start
there, had this firm idea-

- that I was not to stop
going to school.

And things were relatively calm,
until the autumn of 1940.

It was in late autumn 1940 that
the Ghetto was opened in Warsaw.

All Jews from Warsaw
were forced into that Ghetto-

- 400,000 people,
forced into a rather small area.

Rudek!

Rysio?

Come in!

Papa's closest family, all of them,
had come to Warsaw.

Rysio!

- Celinka!
- Ninka!

Where are we to sleep?

Mama and Papa are coming, too...

We had nowhere else to go.

What do they want from us?

- Who?
- The Germans.

No idea.
The main thing is we're together.

- Do you want to play football?
- Pump the ball up first.

I'll play with you when it's round.

Know what?

- I'll be starting school again.
- School?

Wonder what they teach people.

- How to guard prisoners like us?
- Don't be silly, Celinka.

Fredzio, come back!

Celinka, I want to take my university
entrance. I want you to as well.

Me?

Ninka...

You know
we can't even afford potatoes.

Mama wants me in school;
that's all important, she feels.

Know something?

Celinka, it could be our goal
together - passing the exams.

I'll ask Mama to talk to Aunt Micia.

Do you mean it?
You're terrific!

And Mama said to Micia:

"Make sure
Celina attends the classes."

Then Micia said: "She's got
to help me here. I can't manage."

So she didn't let her
go on with her schooling.

LAW COURTS

The law courts in Warsaw
were in the Ghetto-

- but intended also for the non-Jewish
'Aryan' part of the city.

My brother became
a diamond merchant.

He fetched jewellery
from people in the Ghetto-

- and found buyers on the other side
whom he would meet in the courts.

See you again.

His commission on the sales
of the gems was what we lived on.

And Papa?
He helped out at a kitchen.

Joint, a Jewish aid organisation,
ran a kitchen.

He was a volunteer there.

The notion that he should help
Rudolf and Mama pull strings...

It was hard work for them,
but that was never even considered.

He was a nine-to-five person
who found it extremely difficult-

- to adapt to the crises that arose.

Did you meet Czerniaków, Papa?

No...

He's a very busy man.

Czerniaków could perhaps
arrange work-

- for Heniek and me
at the Jewish Council.

He is, after all, the chairman
and we are related.

I have contacts
at the Jewish Council.

- I think I could arrange something.
- Try.

Czerniaków is trying to make sure-

- that this city is functioning
as well as others.

Why have they shut us in here?

The whole business is utter madness.

Rudek, has the Jewish Council said
what they think the intention is?

- Papa, if Czerniaków...
- No "ifs" here!

It's mere speculation!

Mama... What are you saying, Mama?

Jasiek! Shhh!

It almost became
an obsession. Every morning...

...going to the window
and looking across towards the wall-

- to see if there were
any children's bodies lying there.

There was a gap
between the wall and the pavement.

That was the route small boys used,
smuggling food into the Ghetto.

One, two, three, four
Officers for rent galore

- Ninka!
- Rysio, come here...

- Where did you get it?
- I've joined the Jewish Police.

They need people.

Not bad.

A uniform
takes a girl by storm

Don't be silly, Ninka.

This isn't a theatre.

It could protect our family.

- What do you do there?
- Nothing special. On the beat.

- Marek has joined the police too.
- Who's Marek?

Well I never...

...a Jewish policeman.

Up until the summer of 1942-

- the 400,000 Jews in Warsaw-

- tried to live some kind of normal
life, if you can call life normal-

- when you are so cut-off
from the outside world.

Concerts were given in Warsaw,
there was theatre in Warsaw...

I remember lighter moments.

I remember New Year's Eve 1941
which I spent with my friends.

After all, I was still a teenager.

May I have this dance?

It's the first time
she's danced with a man.

She looks happy...

- Szymon.
- Nina. Nina Rajmic.

Haven't we met before?

Don't know.

At the Centnerszwer high school
perhaps. Are you studying?

Not yet - I shall be when we get out
of here. What about you?

I study chemistry, and I'm learning
to make shoe polish.

The Germans think so, at any rate.

I'm glad we've met.

Shimmy-Shimmy!

I don't want to live any more!

She just went to sleep one day...

Only a month or two later-

- Grandpa had a heart attack
and died.

We managed to bury him as well
under fairly normal circumstances.

Later, we were
so very, very thankful-

- that they had died
before the Holocaust started.

On 22 July 1942
posters were put up-

- stating that all the Warsaw Ghetto
Jews were to be moved east-

- and be given work.

The Jewish Council chairman, Adam
Czerniaków, committed suicide-

- the day after the posters appeared.

Congratulations on passing
your entrance exams.

I'll hand you your certificates. Take
them with you, out into the world.

Motek Rozenberg...

I passed my university entrance
exam in the Ghetto-

- just before the Holocaust started.

Nina Rajmic...

Fania...

...perhaps we should apply
to go east, too.

At least we'd have work.

If they'd wanted to, they'd have
given us work in Warsaw.

I don't want us to go now.

We don't need to,
since Rudek is in the police.

What do you think?

Why did Czerniaków kill himself?

I wouldn't know.

It's not so odd.

Who can live
under conditions like these?

Excuse me...

Mama... I've got to talk to you.

Rudek, how could you?

Now there's nothing protecting us.

- I cannot, Mama...
- What do you mean?

We were ordered to round people up
and force them to the Umschlagplatz.

Doctor Korczak was among them,
with all of his children.

Mama, I was ordered
to pack them into goods wagons.

Most of them weren't even five.
I was to push them in, one at a time.

It was ghastly.
I don't want to do it!

Don't be angry. Please, Mama,
don't be angry with me.

I don't want to help them
do what they're doing.

I had to hand in my cap.

Then he lay down on the bed
and Mama did not say another word.

Aunt Fania!

The Germans have taken
Mama and Fredzio!

Celinka...

...how do you know?
- Mietek saw them.

I don't know...
Papa's waiting, I've got to go.

- How can you help them?
- We'll go with them.

Go with them? How do you know
where they're going?

We can at least try and find them
at the Umschlagplatz.

It won't help.

You and Papa can stay here with us.

Wait a day or two,
and matters will clear.

We can't act in this chaos.

I'm sorry, Aunt Fania...
Papa's waiting.

Ninka...

Celinka!

Celinka...

Celinka, wait!

Celinka... Say something!

Ninka! Stop following me!
Leave me alone and go home!

Then they just vanished.

74 persons

Each day
they were to send people off...

...something like 5,000 people.

We did believe
they were going to work camps.

So was there any way
one could remain in the Ghetto?

My brother and Heniek saw to it-

- that we were given jobs
in two factories near each other.

The Germans needed manpower-

- and we were among those
who were retained.

I don't know how.

I just know that, one day, we moved
from the flat to Nowolipie Street.

Rudek got work at Toebbens-

- in a neighbouring street - Leszno.

Mama and I were to work
at Schultz in Nowolipie Street.

Those two streets formed an island
in a Ghetto that was now vanishing.

Papa was in a group-

- that went off each day to a work-
place outside the Small Ghetto.

He left, under escort, every morning
and returned in the evening.

I wonder what Rysio did...

I have no clear memory-

- of what he did during the day
when we were in Nowolipie Street.

Unfortunately I don't recall.

I should have told you
to stay in America.

Mama, I didn't want to stay there.

We darned the holes
in uniforms or vests.

I remember the greenish colour
of those military garments.

One for Mama as well, please.

Can I give you a hand?

And one for me, please.

Nina?

Yes.

We met at the New Year's Eve party.

Szymon.

Szymon?

You're still here? I'm so glad!

Mama!

My mother contracted hepatitis.

I looked after her-

- but not being at the factory
was a problem.

Mama...

Please drink a little tea.

Ninka...

You've got to go to the factory.

- Don't think about that.
- I'll be all right.

Lie down, Mama... Lie down.

- Jakub Feffer!
- That's me.

Come with me.

Nina Rajmic.

Nina Rajmic!

I saw Nina Rajmic
going to fetch more garments.

Mama...

But, when she was
through the worst of it-

- she became completely apathetic
and did not want to get up.

And I knew that, if it took too long-

- it would end up with our losing
our jobs at the factory.

Mama...

What's the matter with you?

Mama...

You can't just lie there like that.

We've got to go back to work,
don't you understand?

You've got to go to work! Get up!

Ninka...

Help me up.

It was the first time
I'd ever shouted at my mother...

...and I got her onto her feet.

The whole of Nowolipie Street
was inhabited by people-

- who worked
at Schultz and Toebbens.

When you left Nowolipie-

- you entered streets
that were almost ghostly.

No one lived there...
there was no population.

We didn't know
where everyone had gone.

We just knew they were to go east
and be given work there.

But that we should avoid
travelling east, whatever the cost-

- that was perfectly clear to us.

Schultz workers!
My name is Rudolf Neumann.

I am the managing director here.
Listen carefully!

Tomorrow morning you are all
to report at Mila Street, to register.

Once there,
you'll be given further instructions.

Before leaving the factory,
you'll all get special cards.

Don't lose them!

When I woke up that morning, when
we were to report at Mila Street-

- I was very frightened.

And Mama could see that,
and she said:

"Don't be afraid. Last night I dreamt
you were dancing in a pink dress"...

..."at a great ball."

"So you will be coming back."

"You'll see
that everything turns out all right."

It was in Mila Street...

...the first time
that we heard the word 'Treblinka'.

It was the first time
we heard about the gas chambers.

It was the first time
anyone said to us-

- that this was a matter
of mass murder.

A man had escaped from Treblinka
and got to Mila Street.

I remember so well,
when we were told those things-

- my mother said:
"It's just not possible."

"It's a lie. Don't believe it."

Left...

Left... Left...

Left... Right... Right...

Left... Left...

Stop!
What's in the rucksack?

Right.

Your card?

Ninka...

Left... Left... Left...

We were granted...

...time, yet again.
We were granted a little more time.

It was mostly fear that everyone
felt. We didn't talk much.

We were terribly frightened,
but we didn't talk much.

And then things were
calm for four months.

About 360,000 out of 400,000-

- had been sent away.

About ten percent of us
were still there.

He was the only acquaintance
I made while I was at Schultz.

All my friends were gone.

But these were not deep feelings.
No, you couldn't say that.

One didn't react
like a teenager any longer-

- not after the Holocaust
had started-

- and our small group had been
shut up in one of the factories.

At that point, the rest of my teens
vanished. That was the end of them.

And by then, we had come
to understand very clearly-

- that a miracle was needed,
to see us through.

Tired?

No.

What's the work you're doing?

Carrying bricks on a building site.
It's not too bad...

What's being built?

I don't know.

Poor Papa...

The sparrow scratched the stork
So tired he couldn't walk

Ninuœ...

I think the war will soon be over.

Papa... Rudek has said
they're planning more transports.

They're going to close the Ghetto
and move us all out.

Whatever they think up,
we'll manage.

And then we've got to be
at the back.

Of course. It'll be fine.

In January 1943, as the Germans
capitulate in Stalingrad-

- the Warsaw Ghetto is visited
by Reichsführer Heinrich Himmler.

To his surprise he discovers-

- that there are still tens
of thousands of Jews in the Ghetto...

...and he orders 8,000 to be
deported and killed forthwith.

Everyone out!

Ninka!

They're taking us to the trains!

Run! Give them this
if they catch you.

- But I don't want to leave you...
- You've got to! Run!

If you make it, so shall I!

No! Nina!

It wasn't like a human...
more like an animal.

I think he was going to shoot. And
that scream of Mama's stopped him...

...that's what I believe.

When we reached the Umschlagplatz
- there were masses of us there -

- I suddenly remembered
something Rudek had told me.

Mama...

- We need to be at the back.
- What does it matter?

- It makes no difference now!
- Mama!

Rudek said we must be at the back
if we're taken to the Umschlagplatz.

- These two have been freed.
- What?

Halt!

These two have been freed.

He stole a police hat,
he stole a bicycle.

He was incredibly brave!
He had no documents.

He had nothing - he just had
the police hat, which wasn't his.

We found ourselves
in no-man's-land-

- and we went into an empty
building, up to the attic floor.

There we sat,
waiting for dark to fall.

This time they only took
five hundred from Schultz.

But we don't have much time.
We've got to get out of here.

Things calmed down again,
in relative terms...

In the Main Ghetto
weapons were being gathered-

- but there was very little of that
in the Small Ghetto-

- at Schultz or Toebbens.

We had an acquaintance
outside the Ghetto - Maria.

Rudolf kept in touch with her.

I realised
he was trying to find ways-

- of getting us out of the Ghetto.
But it was no easy matter.

20 April 1943

- Hallo, Szymon.
- Hallo, Nina. Have you heard?

An uprising started
in the Main Ghetto yesterday.

I hadn't heard...

The Germans are emptying
both factories tomorrow.

Everyone from Schultz is being trans-
ported to a work camp in Trawniki.

What do we do now?

If you want to stay in the Ghetto...

...you'll have to hide
somewhere. Immediately.

Ninka...

...Iook after yourself.

We more or less said farewell
to each other.

It was Passover...
a really sunny, hot day.

And we were in utter despair...

...knowing we'd got to move away
from there the next day...

...by some means or other.

Maryla, I beseech you not to leave!

We can hide here together.
- Henio...

I beseech you, stay here!

We cannot hide.

- It's best to go to Trawniki.
- Rudek'll find us somewhere to hide.

I don't believe the talk
about work in Trawniki.

I beseech you
once again - don't go!

Maryla, please, please stay here!

God!

I forgot to give them the bread.
- Ninka!

Give them the bread!

Maryla! Wait! You forgot the bread.

We don't need it, Nineczka. You need
it more than we do. Goodbye.

That was the last time I saw them.

I have so few memories of Rysio
during the Ghetto years.

I don't know why, but my memories
of Rysio are extremely faint-

- and that plagues me,
having such faint memories of him.

Rudolf hid us
in the crypt of a Catholic church.

We had a bed;
Mama, Papa and I sat on it.

It was our 'home', that bed.

All Jews, come out
and make yourselves known-

- and you'll be given food and work.
Those disobeying will be killed.

Fania...

Perhaps we should go outside.

We won't manage here any longer.

Let's...

...ask Ninka.

We stay here.

Papa...

I'm leaving the Ghetto.

When?

Immediately.

Immediately?

I'm to be smuggled out
on an ambulance run.

Rudek's friend Marysia will find me
a hiding place on the Aryan side.

We shall all meet soon.

- Immediately.
- Papa...

We'll all meet again soon.

Ninuœ...

Things'll turn out all right.

I didn't bid Rudek or Mama farewell
in any particular way.

Rudek said to me:

"We shall all meet again."

"Don't be afraid."

That was all we said...
not really goodbye.

I felt such trust
in Rudek's capacity.

I was certain that he'd get Mama
and Papa out, somehow or other.

Halt!

- Nina?
- Yes.

It was a small flat...

...it was incredible
she was willing to hide me.

Poles hiding Jews
did so on pain of death.

Those caught by the Germans,
for hiding Jews-

- were in as much danger
as the Jews they were hiding.

You've tried to bleach your hair?

Yes.

Nina... It shows.

Mama said I should bleach it,
it was too dark.

All right.

Mrs Pola was very kind.
But she received information-

- that a partisan group from Lwów
needed a refuge.

She offered to take them in
and told me-

- that I'd have to find somewhere else
to hide; she couldn't keep me there.

So I contacted Marysia
- she had a phone -

- and told her
I had to leave Mrs Pola's flat.

Maria, or 'Marysia' in Polish,
was a woman of Rudolf's age-

- whom he had met
when he was trading in gems.

Jewess!

That frightened me so much-

- that I didn't dare go out
into the streets any more.

Calm down now, Nina.
We'll dye it again.

The first week of May
the Warsaw Ghetto burns.

Each day,
I expected them to have got out...

...I expected to receive word
they were out.

I was absolutely certain
Rudek had found some means.

I had an utterly unrealistic belief
in his capacity. Utterly unrealistic.

Excuse me. You've got a visitor.

How d'you do. I'm Marysia.

Marysia? How d'you do. I'm Nina.

Thank you so much
for all you've done for us.

I'm delighted to have been of help.

Have you found me
somewhere to hide?

Yes.

But... I have other news, too.

Shall we sit down?

Two days ago Rudek and your mother
got out of the Ghetto...

...smuggled out in a bread cart.

- Where are they?
- Hiding on the Aryan side.

And Papa?

Rudek agreed to meet the bribed
German again, an hour later...

They were to return to the Ghetto
with bread for Toebbens...

...and fetch your father,
but he didn't turn up.

- Who didn't?
- The German soldier.

Rudek waited outside the market-hall,
but... the soldier never appeared.

What did Rudek do?

He waited an hour, then walked
alone... towards the entrance.

Your father was deported
to Majdanek.

Nina... they've all been deported.

The Ghetto is no more.
It's in flames.

Your mother and Rudek
got out at the last minute.

He could never forget he'd failed to
get Papa out. He could never forget.

He mentioned it
only a day or two before he died...

...that he could never forget
that he had failed to get Papa out.

Who is this family?

Mr Jakubiak, an acquaintance
of Nina's brother's, found them.

- Where do they live?
- Not far off, in Praga.

Thank you for everything,
for letting me stay here.

I'll never forget it.

She hadn't done it for money.

Some of the population,
even if their numbers were limited...

...they did it for the love
of humankind, they helped people.

And I think
Mrs Pola was one of them.

Mr Jakubiak found a place
I could get to-

- with a railwayman and his family.

To reach them,
we had to get a train, at a station.

All three of us
were to meet at the station:

Marysia, Mr Jakubiak and myself.

Miss Marysia!

- Miss Rajmic, I presume?
- How d'you do.

A friend of my son's,
Zbyszek Pelikan.

I went to visit Mr Jakubiak's son,
but he wasn't at home-

- so I came along with Mr Jakubiak
to the station.

I'll just go and buy a ticket for you,
Miss Rajmic - and myself, of course.

Excuse me...

Miss Nina,
may we have a word, please?

Yes... I'll come with you.

I just need to say something
to Marysia. Excuse me.

Forgive me, Marysia,
but I'm going to go with Mr Zbyszek.

Maria got very upset. "You're not to.
I promised your brother and mother"-

- "that you'd be taken to Praga,
where two other Jewish girls are."

"We know of the family. You've no
idea where you're going to end up"-

- "if you go off
with that young man."

I said: "I'm going to, anyway;
I'm going with him."

And I did.

A few days later, I heard-

- that the railwayman and his family
and those two Jewish girls...

...they'd been killed by the Germans-

- the day after I was due
to start my stay with them.

Mama!

We got there...

...and Zbyszek's mother
was very surprised.

Mama, Aunt...
This is Nina... Rajkowska.

How d'you do.

How d'you do.

Mama, may I have a word?

He took her to one side,
and they spoke.

One should mention that their
financial situation was pretty weak.

And it was accepted that,
for hiding a Jew, you got paid.

But his mother was not easy
to persuade; she was very sceptical.

And she sat down with me,
for a talk.

May I speak to you?

First she asked me
where I came from.

From £ódŸ.

"Oh, from £ódŸ? So am I," she said.

Where did your parents work?

Papa was an accountant
at Scheibler & Grohmann.

"Goodness me!"

"My father has worked
at Scheibler & Grohmann, too!"

At that was how I came
to be allowed to stay there.

And the marvellous thing was,
about a week later...

...Rudolf was allowed
to come and stay there, too.

I was so, so thankful
that they accepted Rudolf.

He was utterly exhausted
from all his moving about in Warsaw.

It was a great blessing
that we ended up in that household.

Mother was with a family employed
at the Mint, in the Old Town.

We asked Mrs Pelikan-

- if she could consider letting
Mother stay in their villa, too.

So Mrs Pelikan asked Mama there
one day.

And Mama came, with Maria, and
they were given tea and biscuits.

But as soon as the conversation
got going round the table-

- I realised that Mama
would not be allowed to stay there.

It was so obvious that my mother's
Russian accent bothered them.

Mrs Lucyna said it would
give her away immediately.

So nothing came of it.

Mama had to go back
to the family at the Mint-

- and was unable to be with us.

Good afternoon.

Come in, my dear!

This is our little cousin,
Nina Rajkowska. - Do sit down.

Marta, have some of the cake.

Shall I help you?

Thank you, my pet.

Oh, delicious!

You bake wonderfully, Lucyna,
no matter how bad the times.

You're far too kind, my dear Marta.

I didn't know you had a cousin.

Our little cousin
doesn't come to see us so often.

The family lives a way off
in the countryside.

Why haven't we ever been able
to meet them?

My parents seldom
come up to Warsaw.

And my brother studies hard...
reads a lot of books.

Pity. I'd really like to meet him.

How's the cake?

Splendid. Just like the old days.

It's good the damned war
will soon be over.

How many times have we said that!

My dear, the Americans are already
in Europe and the Russians at Bug.

The Germans'll soon be out.

Then we can have real coffee...
if the devil sees to Hitler.

Say what you will about Hitler,
one good thing he did...

He got rid of the Jews.

It's lovely
to have our little cousin here.

A pity you can only stay a week.

After that tea party
I said to Mrs Pelikan-

- that I didn't want to take part
in any more tea parties.

She wasn't too pleased at that.

But I insisted on staying in my room.

Tuck in, Bolek.

I went to see Mama,
while I was staying at the Pelikans...

...two or three times.

It was a tiny flat.
I know, too-

- that, if someone came to see
the woman Mama was saying with-

- Mama had to hide in the wardrobe.

Hallo, Mama.

Hallo, Ninka.

Don't worry - everything is fine.

I've got something for you.

I made it for you.

Thank you.

How are things for you and Rudek?

Everything's fine.

Are they friendly towards you?

Mrs Lucyna is so kind.

She said we can stay on,
even if we run out of money...

...I can, at least.

I've got something else for you.

Here you are.

- But, Mama, it's...
- I want you to have it.

You need to powder your face.

You've grown up so.

Thank you.

I'm so sorry
I have no more to give you.

Mama...

I just want you to be well
and, afterwards, we'll go to America.

Yes...

Of course we'll go to America.

You're such a big girl now, Ninka!

We're only going one more stop.

If you're going to Sluzew,
wait an hour or so.

The Germans are raiding the place.
A soldier's been killed.

Rudek!

- How did you find out?
- On the tram. They spoke of a raid.

Then why did you come home?

You'd never have left the house
without me.

Having sat in the field
for a few hours, we went back.

Mrs Pelikan told us-

- that, a minute after we'd run from
the villa, the Germans had come.

They had gone through every single
room; they were looking for men.

If I hadn't run back, Rudolf would've
still been there, waiting for me.

This is Radio Poland, Blyskawica.

Soviet troops are
a few kilometres from Warsaw.

When the Polish Underground Army
started their anti-German uprising-

- we banked on support
from the advancing Russians.

But the Soviet forces have halted-

- on the east bank
of the Vistula River.

Warsaw fights on!

The house is on fire!

Rudolf and I, Mrs Pelikan and her
sister, and Maria who was visiting-

- we all hid in the field.
We were out there for three days.

After that, we went back
to the house, which was now gutted.

We spent another two days
in the garden there.

Then it transpired there were trains,
out to the villages outside Warsaw-

- so we got on one.

I had a very powerful feeling
during those years of hiding-

- that I didn't have
the right to exist.

That feeling vanished completely
when the Warsaw Uprising started...

...the big uprising with the whole
population of Warsaw on the run.

Then you became one among the
many, no longer a Jew on the run.

Out in the countryside,
I often went mushrooming.

I felt much less frightened in the
village than I had been in Warsaw.

Hallo?

Hallo.

Suddenly I realised
I was discussing mushrooms-

- and that I'd forgotten
he was a German.

It was a very strange experience,
being with a German-

- without thinking of him
as a German... just as a person.

In that small village...

...we suddenly heard artillery fire.

And then, on 17 January,
there were no Germans left.

There was a column of Russian
armoured units and artillery-

- moving through the little village.

And we'd been liberated, Rudek and I.

The only ones left.

When the Russians came, my brother
went to see the family at the Mint-

- and was told
Mama had left them...

...a few days
after the Uprising had started-

- and had tried to get across to us.

She only got a few blocks-

- ending up in a church
in the Old Town.

There were
four hundred civilians there...

...down in the crypt.

And... that was
where my mother was killed.

It was such a painful feeling...
So painful.

Because I had been
hoping that Mama had survived.

When we'd been liberated, the first
thing we did was go back to £ódŸ.

We got to £ódŸ and went
to our old flat, which was empty.

We felt such profound grief.

An indescribably deep grief,
going into the flat...

...there was only Rudek and me.

It was a photo of my mother-

- that had lain there
throughout the war.

When the war ended
my mother, Nina Rajmic, was 20.

Of almost 400,000 Jews
that were in the Warsaw Ghetto-

- the day the deportations
to Treblinka began-

- only a few hundred survived.

Among them were my mother, Nina,
and her brother, Rudek.

Out of the chums and friends-

- whom I had during
my Warsaw period, only one is alive.

The same applies
to my classmates in £ódŸ.

I haven't come across a single
one of them since the war...

...not a single one.

Imagine all those people...

...what they could have become, what
happy people they might have been-

- and so many new people they
could have brought into the world...

After the war, Nina starts
studying medicine in £ ódŸ-

- as the only one, perhaps-

- to have passed her university
entrance in the Warsaw Ghetto.

One day at the University of £ ód Ÿ
she bumps into a young Jewish man-

- Jerzy Einhorn.

Nina is enchanted by him.

In 1946, when an offer to do
lab work in Copenhagen is made-

- she persuades Jerzy
to join the group.

It is in Copenhagen-

- that Nina receives a telegram
from her brother Rudek.

"Don't come back,"he writes.

There has been a pogrom against
the Jews in the city of Kielce.

This time
Poles are the perpetrators.

Nina, Jerzy and two other Jewish
students decide to flee.

They go to Sweden,
entering illegally.

In Sweden they are eventually
granted resident permits-

- and they go on
with their medical studies there.

It is in Sweden that Jerzy and Nina
get married and have a family.

In time,
Rudek comes to Sweden as well.

I am very contented;
I feel I've had a very good life...

...a very good life-

- thanks to my family
and my profession.

On 30 August 1999, Nina Einhorn
was diagnosed with breast cancer.

The day after, her husband Jerzy
was diagnosed with leukaemia.

The interview with Nina for this film
was recorded a month later.

On 10 May 2002 Nina Einhorn died,
two years after her husband Jerzy.

This film is dedicated
to both of them.