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Rising Hope (Warsaw Rising Trilogy) (Volume 1)

By Marie Sontag

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Chapter 1


Palmiry, Poland - September 8, 1939

THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD TADZIO STOOD IN THE FRONT HALLWAY of the family’s summer house and watched his father walk out the door. “Why do you have to leave now, Father?” he shouted at him. “We need you. The war,” he broke off.

Tadzio’s father turned around, pushed a strand of Tadzio’s blond hair out of his brown eyes, and gripped his son’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I haven’t spent much time with you this past year,” his father began. “Until today, I never really understood how important your Scouting activities were. Now I need to leave on a special business trip, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

Tadzio looked down and stared at a spot on the hardwood floor where the late morning sun leaked in through the open doorway.

“I can’t give you any details,” his father said. He reached out and raised Tadzio’s chin. “When I get back I’ll explain everything.” Then, catching Tadzio by surprise, his father pulled him into a close embrace. “I love you,” he whispered into his son’s ear. He then turned and left.

Tadzio longed to yell, “Of course you’re leaving. That’s what you always do. Why should today be any different?” He also wished he could run after his father, wrap his arms around his waist and shout, “No, don’t go Poppa. Don’t leave now, don’t ever leave us again!” Instead, Tadzio just stood with his hands at his sides and said nothing.

An hour earlier, Tadzio’s sixteen-year-old patrol leader, Andrzej, had driven Tadzio’s Scoutmaster and two other boys from Tadzio’s Scout troop to their family’s summer home. Without any explanation, his father and the Scoutmaster, Professor Handelsman, went into his father’s library where they spoke in hushed tones for almost thirty minutes. Tadzio quickly learned that the two Scouts who arrived with Andrzej and the professor had no idea why they were there, except that Professor Handelsman asked them to come.

Now, the professor joined Tadzio’s family out on the white-columned porch as they watched their father leave. Tadzio’s mother held little four-year-old Henio’s hand. Tadzio’s older sister, Magdalena, sniffled and wiped her tears with her embroidered handkerchief.

Tadzio’s father walked across the yard and into the barn. He returned a moment later dragging two heavy suitcases. He hoisted them into the back seat of Andrzej’s black Fiat 518 and then slid in next to the patrol leader on the passenger’s side. Andrzej revved the car’s engine. Seconds later the car pulled out of the gravel driveway and onto the forest-lined roadway.

“Andrzej will return in about an hour,” the professor explained. “Tadzio and Magdalena, I’d like you and the other Scouts to meet me in the library when he returns. I will tell you what you need to know at that time.”

Tadzio opened his mouth, about to say, “Tell us now,” but the professor’s pressed lips kept Tadzio silent. As he usually did when frustrated or depressed, Tadzio went to the ebony Böesendorfer grand piano in the far corner of the parlor and practiced his Scherzo piece. The other Scouts all went their separate ways until Andrzej returned from his mysterious errand.

As soon as Andrzej walked through the front door, the professor motioned for the Scouts to follow him into the library. Once everyone settled into one of the leather-backed chairs scattered around the book-filled room, the professor shut the heavy oak library doors.

Tadzio slouched down in his chair. The professor sat behind his father’s cherrywood desk, adjusted his rimless spectacles, and looked up at the Scouts. “My sources tell me that it is only a matter of days before German soldiers come marching through here on their way to Warsaw,” the professor began. “It’s been eight days since Germany’s invasion of Poland. Scouts in the capital have joined with Scouts from many other cities to take a stand against the Nazis pouring into Warsaw. It won’t be easy. If you have any qualms about joining us in the effort, just say so now.”

Confused and frustrated, Tadzio rubbed his fist against his jaw. He wanted to shout, but only managed a barely audible whisper. “Joining what effort?”

Stefan shot Tadzio one of his cocky half-smiles. “Joining the underground resistance, you moron.”
Professor Handelsman’s chair sqeaked as he shifted in his seat and stroked the left side his gray handlebar mustache. “The Scouts are not really joining the underground,” he interjected. “We are merely choosing to help the cause, as it were.”

Tadzio always feared confronting bullies. Stefan was one of them. Now, for the sake of Poland, the professor was asking him to confront the Germans. Tadzio looked around the room; first at Andrzej, then at Lech, Stefan, his best friend Krzysiu, and finally his sixteen-year-old sister, Magdalena. She gazed back at Tadzio, her dark brown eyes wide with uncertainty. He wondered what Magdalena would say. Would she do whatever Andrzej and Lech did? Tadzio watched as Magdalena pushed a strand of her shoulder-length black hair behind an ear and then squeezed her eyes shut. What would happen to his mother and little Henio if both of them joined the resistance?

The professor continued. “What I am about to ask from all of you is a personal sacrifice on behalf of Poland’s future. Your final decision is, of course, up to you. As for your family, Tadzio and Magdalena, the caretakers of your manor house have pledged their very lives to protect your family for as long as your father is away on business. They will look after your mother and little brother if you decide to join us in the cause. So, what do you all say?”

For a moment, the room remained silent. Then Tadzio broke in. “I mean no disrespect, Professor.” Tadzio squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. “I don’t know why my father had to leave right now, but since he’s gone I, well, I feel responsible for my family.”

Magdalena sat a little more forward on her chair. “And earlier this week,” she added, “my father’s brother and his wife were killed when a bomb hit their apartment building in Warsaw. That’s why we came out here to our summer house. Now we also have our orphaned eleven-year-old cousin to care for.”

Tadzio nodded in agreement. “And, as the older son,” he hesitated for a moment, “I think my first responsibility is to my family.”

“Well spoken, Tadzio.” Professor Handelsman looked at Tadzio over the top of his glasses. “As I said, the caretakers of your manor house have pledged to watch over your family while your father is away, but I can understand why you feel you must make your family your first priority.” The professor glanced at the other Scouts. “So what about the rest of you?”

Tadzio’s patrol leader, Andrzej, spoke first. His pensive eyes narrowed as he looked straight at Tadzio. “As we all know, this is what we’ve prepared for all summer. It comes as no surprise. The Scout training we received in the Kampinos Forest the past few months – first aid, food storage, water purification, map reading skills, Morse Code, riflery – it all prepared us for this moment. I, for one, am willing to give my all for the future of Poland.”

Lech smoothed back his thick, black hair and chimed in. “Andrzej’s right. Unless you were living in a vacuum, we all knew the Germans would eventually come for us. I say it’s time to take a stand. “
First Lech, then Andrzej, and finally Stefan rose to their feet. With arms raised they shouted their Scout motto in unison. “Czuwaj! Czuwaj!”

Tadzio looked over at thirteen-year-old Krzysiu. Tadzio’s heart twisted for his best friend as he watched Krzysiu sit back in his leather chair, pull his knees up to his chin, and then clasp his hands over his ears. Tadzio knew Krzysiu felt crazy with fear over the fate of his parents. Krzysiu and his younger sister drove up to the summer house with Tadzio’s family a week earlier - the day Germany attacked Warsaw. Krzysiu’s parents promised to join them as soon as they took care of some business in the city, but a bomb leveled the Bank of Poland just as they were leaving. Now Krzysiu’s parents were recovering in a hospital somewhere in Warsaw, leaving Krzysiu to care for his nine-year-old sister.

Tadzio and Magdalena stared at one another from across the room. Tadzio felt beads of perspiration trickle down his back. His stomach churned. Tadzio ran out of the room, barely making it to the bathroom before his midday meal spewed out into the toilet. “I guess I just don’t have what it takes to fight the Germans,” he told himself.

Later that evening, Tadzio’s mother managed to coax Tadzio and Magdalena into performing their violin and piano version of Chopin’s Etude in E Major before everyone turned in for the night.
When Professor Handelsman heard, he looked at Tadzio’s mother with wide eyes behind his spectacles. “I didn’t know Chopin wrote an Etude for piano and violin,” he admitted.

Tadzio’s mother pursed her lips and looked down at the parlor floor, making her sleek Greek nose look even more slender. “Actually, Professor,” she said, “Tadzio has arranged a violin part for Chopin’s Piano Etude in E Major so that his sister can play the melody with him on her violin. The two of them hoped to perform this new arrangement in the Chopin Young People’s Concert this coming fall. They have been working on the piece for the past three months.”

“Well, well,” the professor said. He clapped his hands and motioned everyone into the parlor. “Tadzio, my boy.” He smiled. “I knew you had talent on the rifle range, as well as archery and map skills, but I had no idea that you also possessed such musical ability. By all means, we must have a command performance!”

Stefan pushed his way past Tadzio as he entered the parlor. “Right, he’s just a regular Mr. Perfect,” Stefan mumbled under his breath as he flopped down on the dark green sofa.
Tadzio felt his face flush. Angered by Stefan’s remark and embarrassed by the attention, Tadzio walked over to the piano and sat down on the bench.

The professor heard Stefan’s remark. He sat next to Stefan in an upholstered winged Queen Anne chair and then leaned toward him. “Not perfect, Pan Lutowski. Skilled. You have skills as well. After all, you chose to leave with me in the morning. Tadzio chose to remain behind.”
Tadzio’s stomach twisted. Perhaps the professor hadn’t meant for Tadzio to overhear him, but he had.

Tadzio’s mother settled little four-year-old Henio on her lap, cousin Jozefina next to Andrzej, and Lucyna near her brother, Krzysiu.

The portly professor placed his hands over his mustache and then, addressing the group, made one more comment. “Did any of you know that, according to Chopin’s biographer, Chopin once told his copyist that he believed he had never written a more beautiful melody than the one found in the E Major Etude? Once, when Chopin was listening to the Etude, he raised his arms and clasped his hands over his head, like this.” The professor stood up and clasped his hands over his head. “After listening to the Etude, Chopin then exclaimed, ‘O, Poland, my fatherland!’” The professor slowly returned his hands to his sides and sat down. “As you all know,” he continued, “Chopin never returned to Poland after the cadets rebelled against the Russians in 1830. And how Chopin loved our Poland. You can hear the longing for his homeland in every strain of the E Major Etude. He wrote it two years after he left Poland, and, as I said, he never returned. What a fitting melody for us this evening.”

Tadzio never heard that story about Chopin’s E Major Etude. As the professor folded his hands in his lap, Tadzio thought he could see the professor’s eyes glistening. Tadzio knew that Chopin left Poland when the Russian czar sent troops into Poland in 1830. His grandfather told him how the cadets at the Warsaw Military College launched a rebellion against Czar Nicholas I in 1830. Tadzio’s namesake, his grandfather’s Great Uncle Tadeusz, was one of those cadets. While still retaining Russian authority, the czar before Nicholas I allowed the Poles to have their own parliament and constitution. Later, Nicholas I, fearing the revolutions he saw in Europe, abolished the Poles’ self-government and restored strict Russian rule. The Poles, having been given a taste of freedom, staged a rebellion. Within a year, the czar defeated the cadets and their supporters, sending 25,000 rebellious Poles, along with their extended families, to Siberia.

Grandfather told Tadzio, “It was only because my great-grandfather’s family hid out in our summer house that they managed to escape capture.” Tadzio couldn’t help but think that history was now repeating itself. This time it was the Germans who sought to take away Poland’s freedom, and now his family was hiding out in their manor house.

Tadzio inhaled deeply and then looked over at his sister. Magdalena waited. With her chin resting on her violin, bow drawn across her strings, she watched as Tadzio’s head silently counted the beat. Then the magic began.

Magdalena’s lilting melody and Tadzio’s pulsing two-four rhythm worked to transform the room into a unity of emotion for the fatherland of Poland. For the yearning of freedom, of love, of family, of home, of everything good in life. And for that one brief moment it helped push back the painful knowledge that inky mists of darkness, even at this moment, crept across the forest floor, seeking to snatch it all away. Even Stefan seemed grateful for the short concert. The three youngest children fell asleep before Tadzio and Magdalena even reached the song’s climax.
Tadzio noticed that Lech never took his eyes off Magdalena or her violin bow once she and Tadzio began to play.

“That was amazing,” Lech gushed when Magdalena lifted her bow from the strings after the final note faded.

Tadzio saw her blush slightly. Magdalena placed her Roth violin in its coffin-shaped case. “Thank you,” she managed to say.

Lech placed his hand on hers as she fastened the latch. “I’ve never heard anything so beautiful,” he almost whispered.

Professor Handelsman coughed slightly. “Andrzej, Lech and Stefan, set your alarms for 5:30 a.m.,” he announced. “We head out right after breakfast tomorrow.”

Magdalena shot Lech a puzzled looked.

Lech stared back at her with a pained expression in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to say more, but Tadzio noticed that the professor flashed Lech a stern look.

Tadzio wanted to ask the professor where they were going, but realized that, since he, Magdalena and Krzysiu chose not to join the other Scouts, he had no right to ask. Angry with the Germans, himself, his father, and everyone else in general, he kissed his mother on the cheek and shuffled off to bed. When Krzysiu arrived ten minutes later, he pretended he was already asleep.

The next day Tadzio discovered that Professor Handelsman, Andrzej, Lech, and Stefan left hours before he and Krzysiu arrived at the breakfast table. When Tadzio asked his mother if she knew where Professor Handelsman had gone, she simply told him, “Off to do important Scouting work, I suppose, but I appreciate you staying here to help me with the children. I know you’d much rather be off with them.”

Tadzio wasn’t so sure he’d rather be off with the Scouts. He could only imagine what kind of danger they might encounter.

Palmiry – Pal-meer-eh; a town in Krzysiu –Krshee’-shu: rhymes with
east-central Poland near the edge of “tissue”. A young boy’s Polish name
the Kampinos Forest, 16 miles when his given name is Krzystof;
north-west of Warsaw Christopher, or Chris, in English;
Tadzio –Tahd’-jeo: a young boy’s Tadzio’s best friend
Polish name when his given Lucyna – Lu-seh’-nah; Krzysiu’s
name is Tadeusz (Tah-doush’, as nine-year-old sister
in ouch); in English this name is Jozefina –Yo-se-fee-na; Tadzio’s
Thaddeus, or Ted eleven-year-old orphaned cousin
Magdalena – Mog-dah-lane’-a; Tadzio’s Czuwaj - choov-eye’; The Polish Scout
sixteen-year-old sister greeting and motto; it is the
Henio – Hen’-yo; a young Polish boy’s equivalent of the American Boy
name when his given name is Henryk Scout motto, “Be Prepared”; in
Henry, in English; Tadzio’s four-year- Polish it means watch” or be
old brother vigilant, or stay awake. It was a historic
Andrzej –Ahn’-dzray; Andrew in admonition of medieval knights to one
English; Tadzio’s sixteen-year-old Chopin –Kho-peen’ in Polish, Show-pan
Boy Scout patrol leader in English; a famous Polish composer
Lech – Leckh; eighteen-year-old (1810-1849)
Boy Scout patrol leader
Stefan – Steh’-fahn; thirteen-year-old
Boy Scout; Lech’s younger brother
another, while on guard holding back the
Mongols
Pan Lutowski – Pahn Lu-tov’-skee;
Pan is the Polish equivalent of “Mr.”;
Lutowski is Lech and Stefan’s last name

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