fruit – there is plenty of everything. A nap on the hay. Lying around in the sun. Lazily going through a delightful Arcadian day in the peaceful Polish countryside. And one sees no traitors or Ukrainian boors, nor do you hear their vulgar language! It is such a relief to finally talk with a Polish peasant, who is tough, consistent, and strong-minded, and does not want to have any contact with the Germans whatsoever; he will not hear a word about that. I realise that such a day is a rarity in a Jew’s life. I know what an effect it has on my nerves, lungs, and health. As if touched by a magic wand, I forget about my illness. I feel healthy again or actually miraculously healed. I inhale this fresh air as if to make a supply for later. I – a son of mountains, a highlander, am used to sharp air – feel that it needs to suffice for a long time, because I know what putrid Warsaw air without a patch of greenery means.
[45] 25 September. On the train. We set out again. Perfectly calm, we board the train. We do not attract any attention, because everybody is absorbed in their own thoughts. We pass through Rejowiec,641 where we alight and wait two hours for the next train. There are plenty of Polish police functionaries walking around and conducting searches, looking for food. We fear no search because we have only dirty underwear and clothes, but it is better not to attract attention to oneself anyway. We finally board the train, which is to take us straight to Warsaw. We pass through Lublin. All passengers (except us) are professional or occasional smugglers. It is difficult to call them smugglers – they are simply transporting potatoes, butter, eggs, fat pork, and meat. Some for sale, others to have supplies for winter in the city. In Dęblin642 the German gendarmerie conducts a meticulous and strict search, but we are ignored almost ostentatiously. We are already in Otwock. Finally, Warsaw is “right under my nose”. I am home.
