TCNJ

38 The College of New Jersey Magazine earlier and had never approached again, because no one was supposed to know that the nuns had children staying in the convent. I slithered among the others until I reached the gate where the most incredible action was taking place. The Belgian Maquis, World War II resistance fighters, in their majestic all-white garb, including their white hoods, with machine guns in hand, were pushing back the German soldiers right there in the streets of Namur outside our convent. One would have sworn we were at a soccer game with a hundred thousand Namur fans rooting for the local team. The Maquis were indeed winning. We were hoarse from screaming encouragement and jumping up and down. I knew, but didn't fully under- stand, what was going on. The calls of freedom and liberty were sufficient for even this naive nine-year-old to understand that things were about to change dramatically. A few days later, the Mother Superior called me in. What could she want with me? I had always behaved, I hadn't caused any problems, and I was one of the most dependable altar boys. As soon as I entered her office, she told me not to worry, but to get my clothes together because someone was coming the next morning to take me to my mother. I was certain that there was some- thing terribly wrong with me. Surely, I should be happy that I was going to see my mother, but I couldn't figure out who that person was. Mother was just a word to me; I couldn't even con- jure up an image of what that person looked like. It had been so long since He told me that every day someone would come up to empty the pot and replenish whatever I had used up. He told me not to talk to whoever came to my hiding place. He told me not to open the trap door under any circumstances. He told me that if any- one called out from downstairs as if they knew I was there, to ignore it and not say anything. He told me to answer only to him when he opened the trap door and I could see that it was him. He told me not to talk to him through the trap door even if I knew that he was there on the other side. He told me not to make any noise no matter how I felt. What he didn't tell me — what he didn't have to tell me — was that I was a non-person again. In late 1942, Albert traveled by train to Namur, Belgium, where he would hide in a convent. The nuns there taught him to pray, gave him a new, Christian-sounding last name, and told him to not reveal to anyone that he was Jewish. He lived that way for more than two years. There was a ruckus in the yard because of some guns firing. Everyone ran toward the front gate, the gate through which I had entered two years " What he didn't tell me — what he didn't have to tell me — was that I was a non-person again. "

• Cover