The Zookeeper's Wife: A War Story

CHAPTER 9

WITH BLACKOUT IN EFFECT AND MOST OF THE ANIMALS GONE, dawn no longer announced itself by spilling light into the bedroom and unleashing the zoo’s otherworldly chorale. One awoke in darkness and silence, the bedroom windows sealed with plywood and most of the animal calls either missing or muffled. In a quiet that dense, body sounds become audible, one hears blood surging and the bellows of the lungs. In a darkness that deep, fireflies dance across eyes that see into themselves. If Jan were dressing beside the terrace door, Antonina wouldn’t have spotted him. If she reached a hand over to the other side of the bed, patted around the pillow, and found it empty, she might have been tempted to loll with memories of zoo life before the war, lost in the dreamy lucidity of her children’s books. But on this day, Antonina needed to get busy with her chores, since there were still some animals left to feed, Ryś to dress for school, and the house to prepare for Heck’s visit.

Antonina noted that she found Heck “a true German romantic,” naïve in his political views and conceited perhaps, but courtly and impressive. She was flattered by his attention, and learned from a mutual friend that she reminded him of his first great love, or so he swore. Their paths rarely crossed, but she and Jan did visit the Berlin Zoo now and then, and Heck had sent them photographs taken on expeditions with cordial letters in which he praised their work.

Antonina slipped into one of several polka-dot dresses she fancied for social occasions (some had a lace or ruffled collar). Photographs almost always show her covered in small lynx-like spots or large pale polka dots against a black or navy blue background that set off her light hair.

From the porch, Jan and Antonina could see Heck’s car pass through the main gate—and they no doubt mustered smiles by the time he pulled up.

“Hello, my friends!” Heck said, climbing out. A tall, muscular man with hair combed back and a dark, neatly kept mustache, Heck now wore the uniform of a Nazi officer and the effect was jarring, even if expected, since they were used to seeing him in civilian, zoo, or hunting clothes.

He and Jan shook hands warmly, and he cupped Antonina’s hand and kissed it. One can be certain of that, since it was the custom, but not how this “true German romantic” might have kissed it. Casually or with a flourish? Lips touching the skin or hovering a breath away? As with a handshake, a hand kiss may reflect subtle feelings—a salute to femininity, a quaking heart, a grudging obedience, a split second of crypto-devotion.

He and Jan would have discussed raising rare animals, particularly those of special interest to Heck, whose life’s mission—some would say obsession—dovetailed beautifully with the Nazi desire for purebred horses to ride and purebred animals to hunt.

When it came to rare animals, Jan and Lutz shared a love for those native to Poland, especially the big woolly forest bison (Bison bison bonasus), bearded cousin to the North American buffalo (Bison bison), and Europe’s heaviest land animal. As the recognized expert on these bovines, Jan played a key role in the International Society for the Preservation of the European Bison, founded in Berlin in 1923, with a first agenda of locating all the remaining forest bison in zoos and private collections. It found fifty-four, most beyond breeding age, and in 1932 Heinz Heck traced pedigrees in the first European Bison Stud Book.[23]

Antonina later wrote that as Heck reminisced about their meetings before the war and how much they had in common, once again praising their efforts with the young zoo, she felt hopeful. At last talk turned to the real reason for Heck’s visit, which according to Antonina went like this:

“I’m giving you my pledge,” he said solemnly. “You can trust me. Although I don’t really have any influence over German high command, I’ll try nonetheless to persuade them to be lenient with your zoo. Meanwhile, I’ll take your most important animals to Germany, but I swear I’ll take good care of them. My friends, please think of your animals as a loan, and immediately after the war I’ll return them to you.” He smiled reassuringly at Antonina. “And I will be personally responsible for your favorites, the lynxes, Mrs. Żabíńska. I’m positive they’ll find a good home in my Schorfheide zoo.”

After that, conversation opened to sensitive political topics, including the fate of bomb-ravaged Warsaw.

“At least there’s one good thing to celebrate,” Heck said, “that the nightmare of September in Warsaw is over and that the Wehrmacht has no further plans to bomb the city.”

“What will you do with all your rare animals if war comes?”

“I’ve been asked that a lot, along with: ‘What will you do with the dangerous ones? Suppose your animals escape during an air raid,’ and so on. These are terrible thoughts. A vision of Berlin and my zoo after a bombardment by the English is a personal nightmare. I don’t want to imagine what might happen to other European zoos if they’re bombed. I suppose that’s why it grieves me so much to witness your loss, my friends. It’s terrible, and I’ll do everything I can to help.”[24]

“Germany has already turned against Russia….”

“And rightfully so,” Heck said, “but overpowering Russia can’t happen without England’s help, and in the present situation, with England on the other side, our chance of winning is very small.”

With so much at stake, Antonina studied Heck carefully. As fleeting emotions stalk it, a face can leak fear or the guilt of a forming lie. The war had a way of curdling her trust in people, but Warsaw’s devastation, and the zoo’s, clearly rattled Heck. Also, his lack of enthusiasm for Hitler’s decisions surprised her, indeed she found “such words, coming from a functionary of the Third Reich, quite shocking.” Especially since the Heck she had met before the war rarely shared his political opinions and harped on “German infallibility.” Nonetheless, he would soon be shipping her lynxes and other animals to Germany, to be taken care of, he’d said, on loan, he’d said, and she really had no choice but to comply, stay cordial, and hope for the best.