Page 18 - LEIBY

18 Leiby – Border Smuggler

I did go out, it was always late at night and I made sure to cover
my face with my scarf.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and
Leiby strained to hear. “You’re right, the war is over, but I refuse
to suffer any more. I registered myself in the civic register as a
Tatar by the name of Rafat Shobrov.”

Leiby was not ready to let him off the hook. “That’s not right,
you should never be afraid to call yourself a Jew!”

The man’s face paled.It was clear that Leiby had touched on a sore
spot on his conscience. Eventually he admitted shamefacedly, “I
know, I know, I shouldn’t have denied my Jewishness.”

The line the two were standing in had shortened noticeably
while they were talking. All the young men who had been in
line were now standing together, clustered behind the building,
supervised by a stern-looking sergeant. They looked jealously at
the passersby who were free to walk in the streets as they pleased
and were not being sent to their deaths on the battlefield.

Finally, the dark-haired man’s turn arrived and he entered the
building, and then came Leiby’s turn. He entered the large room
with the sign on the door – Recruiting Committee. Behind a
large mahogany table sat three senior Soviet military officers.
When they saw the thirteen-year- old boy who marched in
confidently and saluted smartly, they smiled and looked at him
quizzically.

“What are you doing here?”

“I received a call-up notice.”

They exchanged puzzled glances.

“How old are you, boy?”

“I’m thirteen.”

“Why are you here, boy? You should be in school,” the grey-
haired Russian officer questioned.

“Yes, I totally agree, but Stefan Ivanovitch, deputy head of the
local police force, gave me the letter and said I have to come
here.”