The Horse Adjutant My cousins greeted me warmly, and, while they loaded my wagon, I slept the day away. That night it snowed as I began my trip home. The lonely ride was quiet and uneventful with only my horse’s steaming breath, the drifting snow, and the starry sky to capture my attention. Along the road, there were places to rest occasionally. The atmosphere was deceptively serene. Suddenly I heard the order to halt and saw the lamp of two policemen -- one Polish, the other German. My worst nightmare. “What do you have there, boy?” “Flour, sir,” I answered. The two policemen began to probe the bags of flour. “Where are you taking it?” “To the bakery, sir.” We were close enough to Grybow for this to be a plausible story. “Where are your horse’s bells?” “They must have fallen off, sir.” “And where is your lamp?” I must have looked and sounded as if I had been sleeping on the job. “I don’t know, sir.” “You must-have bells and a lamp,” the policeman growled. “I know, sir. I’m sorry.” “This is very serious, boy.” “Yes, sir.” Satisfied that my load was indeed flour, the Polish officer finally said, “Next time you will be arrested.” I couldn’t believe my luck. I had passed a test more important than any I had ever taken at school. When I reached home, it was still dark. My father was obviously relieved to see me safe and sound. Then the unloading began and there, beneath the flour, were large bars of brown soap, pepper, and other forbidden items. I felt betrayed. It was not the presence of these important items that bothered me but the fact that my father and my cousins had not told me of them. I angrily told my father that I would make no more such trips. He simply shook his head and said something I would find to be very true, “Leon,” he said, “Life will show you that sometimes you will have to cover up things.”
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