“Pil,” as Moshe Alpan was known in the underground, waited for Chava on the platform for the train travelling from Budapest to Nagyvárad. She was an attractive, courageous young woman, who was committed to the cause. Pil had decided to make her a part of the team that accompanied the groups on their way to the border city, and from there smuggled them across the Romanian border, on their way to Eretz Israel. The code name of this operation was “tiyul” (a Hebrew word meaning outing or trip).
She arrived on time. They hugged like a pair of lovers and boarded the train. Pil explained to Chava what she was to do, how to behave, what to expect; and when, if at all, to intervene when men from the secret police or the gendarmerie boarded the train for an inspection of travel documents.
This was the procedure: Pil would meet the candidates that were to be smuggled, in an open park or neighborhood café, making very sure that he was not being followed. He would fill in the details of their new identities, on the blank identity papers that came from the underground workshop. He would build a cover story with them, that they had to learn very well; explain to them how to behave during the journey, so as to remain inconspicuous; what to pack in the small bag they would bring with them, and even how to “nonchalantly” take their documents out of the bag when requested, without their hands trembling. He would give them a little money and show them how to crumple their documents a bit, after the ink had dried, so that they would look used. Then he would tell them at what time to be at which platform. That evening he would meet them, dressed as a train conductor, and would accompany them on their journey.
The previous week Pil had faced a particularly difficult ordeal. Detectives had boarded the train for an inspection and approached one of the young men in the group. Pil, who arrived on the scene a bit late, saw that the man, who had been asked to present his documents, had turned white and was sweating. Pil realized that the man’s luck had run out, and decided not to intervene. The detectives ordered the young man to drop his pants…and his identification as a Jew followed swiftly after that. He was removed from the train, yelling and screaming. His fate was sealed.
In Nagyvárad Pil and Chava hired a carriage, and, like a couple on their honeymoon, headed toward the nearby village where Péter Bácsi lived. He was a religious Christian, from an unconventional sect that loved Jews and kept the Sabbath. Every night Peter would take groups of Jews across the border. The dawn would find Pil and Peter sitting together, drinking hot tea and chatting. Peter would pray and say that it was God’s will that he protect the Jews, as “without Jews, there is no Christianity, and without Christianity there is no humanity.” Pil would respond, “To me, Judaism exists only wherever and whenever there are Jews. A Jewish boy who has just crossed the border and saved his life, guarantees the existence of Judaism.”
When Pil and Chava drew close to Peter’s house, his mother came out toward them and signaled with a white kerchief that they should flee. That night Peter had been arrested and taken for interrogation. Pil maintained his composure and told the driver to go back to town.
When they reached a crossroads, a man jumped into the carriage and sat down. He was wearing a typical detective’s cap. They realized they had been discovered. There was a police station in the center of town, manned by the Gestapo, and several members of the underground Zionist Resistance had already been arrested, tortured and murdered there.
Pil’s head was bursting with thoughts of the worst, and the sound of the horses’ hooves on the cobblestones sounded like a clock, ticking down the seconds until the end…
When they arrived in the town, they crossed a narrow bridge over a brook. Suddenly Pil saw a woman standing on the river bank, weeping and wailing. Her toddler son had fallen into the water. Without giving it a second thought, Pil jumped off the bridge into the water, rescued the child and returned him to the waiting arms of his mother. Without a word, Pil returned to the carriage and sat down.
At that moment, the detective rose, took off his hat in a customary polite motion, mumbled a few words, descended from the carriage and disappeared, as if to say, “Until now I thought you were Jews who were trying to escape. I was about to arrest you. But clearly no Jew would jump into the water to save a Christian child. And if by chance you are Jews…then go to Hell…”
