Page 52 - LEIBY

52 Leiby – Border Smuggler

sight. Only then did they dare to let out their pent-up breaths.
They knew that they had escaped death by a hairsbreadth.

“You were right,” one of the soldiers turned to Leiby and
admitted, “if we would have continued in our car, they would
have killed us all on the spot. I think we should just give up and
go back to the city.”

“Yes,” the second soldier agreed. “It’s one thing to die on the
battlefield, but something entirely different to be killed by a
Polish bandit.”

“As far as I’m concerned, the worst thing is to be executed
for not having carried out orders,” Leiby retorted sharply. He
fondled the gun hidden inside the wide farmer trousers that
he wore. “We will not return to the city until we have the girl
safely with us.”

“But how on earth did you know that we would be attacked
like that?”

Leiby sighed. “I know the farmers all too well. They hate the
Russians with a passion but are also deathly afraid of them.They
are worried that the communist government will confiscate their
farms and send them all to work in a kolkhoz. If they succeed
in laying their hands on a small group of Russian soldiers,
they will eliminate them without a second’s hesitation.” Leiby
looked around at the men and continued. “And so, my friends,
from this moment on, we are not soldiers, but farmers. Only
when we find Mirushka will we don our uniforms once more.”

The cart continued to rumble its way down the dusty paths. The
landscape was a vast, empty expanse of green foliage, tranquil
and calm, offering no hint as to what was going on not far
away. Here and there were pools of clear, clean water and they
stopped to drink in the shade of the many pine trees.

Eventually, they saw a distant cluster of clay huts with thatched
roofs. Leiby glanced down at the map in his hand and traced
the route they had come on with his finger. “Yosef,” he pointed
out. “Here is where your escape trail began.”