The train to Krakow is going fast. 

It makes stops along the way, picking up passengers at each station before bellowing on. 

My compartment is crowded and noisy. Men and women talk loudly as a baby cries softly in his blanket. The air is saturated with cigar and cigarette smoke. An elderly woman sits on my right side holding a big package on her lap; tears stream from her eyes covering her pale cheeks. 

“The package is for my sons who are in the camp,” she explains to everyone. 

The conversations immediately switch to the latest arrests and street round-ups. Smiles disappear from faces of women and men, fear taking hold. Everyone starts to check their documents.

Warm rays of sun sneak inside through open windows. The meadows are already green, dotted with the first pale violet patches of early blooming lilacs. Gleeful children stand in front of their houses to welcome the first rays of May sunshine.