Page 162 - LEIBY

162 Leiby – Border Smuggler

Bratislava.”

“No, I can’t wait anymore,” a tear ran down the visitor’s face. “I
haven’t seen her in three years.” His eyes flamed with emotion.

Leiby felt sorry for the poor man. He led him outside and
explained to him the best way to get to the border crossing. The
stranger nodded his thanks and went on his way. Leiby returned
to the farm and continued what he had been doing beforehand,
but an elusive thought niggled at his brain. Something about
the person who had been here seemed peculiar. What was it?
Suddenly it struck Leiby. Yes, he was sure. The man had looked
quite old, but his walk and his energy seemed more suitable for
a young person. He was muscular and strong, and reminded
Leiby of the spirited Ukrainian partisans that he had known in
the forest. Was it possible that he was just disguised as an old
man?

Leiby hurried out of the farm, hoping to catch up with the
stranger, but it was too late. He had already disappeared into
the darkness. He returned to the farm quite perturbed and went
to Alexander’s room in search of a telephone, but that was a
luxury that didn’t exist on the farm. Frustrated, he just hoped
that he hadn’t caused any damage. Leiby was annoyed with
himself at his carelessness. The partisans in the forest had lived
by the credo that caution was imperative in all situations and
at all times. They were often warned to not only be watchful
and alert when they were leaving the forest to carry out some
mission against the Germans, but also when they returned.
Sometimes they came back after hours, or even days, and were
utterly fatigued, fighting to keep their eyes open, but they knew
that precisely these times were most dangerous, and it was
crucial even then to never let their guard down. Leiby felt like a
soldier who had fallen asleep while on duty and his conscience
troubled him terribly.