|
Salomon Urbach Blog Entry |
|
June 6, 2025, 12:00:10 AM 6/6/25: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's characters from my anthro WWII storyline are Salomon and Jonas Urbach. They're the husband and son of Helena Urbach; they're deceased before the main story, but play a big role in Helena's life. They've been unnamed until now. There'll be more about them later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se. Regarding their design, Jonas's colors are a mix of both his parents'. TUMBLR EDIT: Helena Urbach's story was shared in HER ENTRY, which I notice I was typing up (despite the artwork's creation date--my character writeups often take a while to finish, thus the posting delay) in early June 2023 during a "major medical emergency." I had no way to know at the time that this was going to result in my dad's death at the end of that month. I now find myself coincidentally sharing Helena's deceased family almost exactly two years later. This has no real bearing on these entries, I just felt I'd mention. I'm still unclear of the particulars of the Urbachs' lives and professions, though I don't lean toward them being a farm family after all. Herr Urbach, since newly named Salomon, was originally pictured as similar to Joachim Meyer, but at the last minute I decided to change him; the Meyers are both rather big individuals, and although not heavyset like they are, Helena is tall and decidedly unfeminine, having a stocky, big-boned, somewhat more muscular build than women are "supposed" to have--I was going to design Salomon similarly, but then made him a shorter, rather slightly built man. I wanted the pair to be quite different from each other and from the typical couple, so much so that others might remark on it, similar to the recently covered Grace and Indigo Rat, except with the roles reversed (rather masculine wife, rather feminine or at least androgynous husband). Salomon (I would normally just refer to him by last name, but here will go by the first name) is a more white-collar type now in my imagination, a city dweller with some sort of clerical job, perhaps. He's not Orthodox or especially observant though he does believe and attend religious services at least. He's a bit nerdy, educated, quite soft spoken, prefers to keep to himself and his books as other people are loud and complicated. I don't know how he meets Helena, but there's an immediate spark between the two, and they begin spending most of their time together. She isn't what most men would consider desirable wife material--she's taller and stronger built than Salomon, not particularly attractive, and is herself used to a rather solitary existence, so she works and does things for herself; I don't know what job she has but given her physical strength, she's good at working with her hands, and doing some types of manual labor that men usually do. (This fact helps ensure her survival later on.) She's a bit surprised to find that not only does she like Salomon--pretty much her opposite, at least physically (their basic temperament is about the same)--but that he's smitten with her in return. He courts her in his own meek, awkward way, and is just so sweet that she returns his attentions, and they become inseparable. Helena lives in a world of objects, hard work, physical things. Salomon lives in a mental world of books, words, ideas. When he isn't sure what to say or how to relate to her, he offers her poems, verses, pages. Helena isn't big on reading but she smiles at every earnest effort he makes to connect. As they stroll arm in arm through the city he regales her with years, decades, centuries of history; everything he knows, he's learned from books. He blushes and peers up at her and murmurs, "Well...everything except people." Turns out that, while you can read about people and their lives in books, actually knowing them, and living life, are things that can never be captured on the page. He's read all the great romantic poems but none of them ever prepared him for the reality. "Are you disappointed...?" Helena asks sincerely; although not much of a reader, she knows she isn't the sort of woman the Romantics preferred to write about. Salomon blushes even more and says no, he's not disappointed in the least. Salomon and Helena, too, are rather older than is usual for a first courtship. They aren't sure which direction their lives together, once they're wed, will take. They're content to be all the other has, so it's an anxious yet pleasant surprise when Helena becomes pregnant. She delivers a healthy boy whom they name Jonas. He looks like his father. Salomon has no idea about the practical aspects of childrearing, but he has plenty of books. Helena has to remind him that some things you just have to learn from hands-on experience. Salomon reluctantly admits that, yet again, the books didn't quite prepare him for the reality, yet they make for decent material to read their young son to sleep at night. Being a student of history can become its own curse; you learn to see patterns, to see signs. To see warnings. You just aren't always sure, especially if you live in your head, how to react. Salomon notices the colors most of all. The men in the brown shirts go marching, the red-black-and-white banners go flying along every street, the yellow stars are pinned to everyone's breast. He wants to share his unease with Helena, but lacks the words. He shows her his books instead, at least, until those are made illegal. When the great pyres of pages start burning, Salomon's eyes tear up as if he's losing his old friends. He and Helena lose their jobs. They and little Jonas are made to move with the rest of their fellows into the ghetto. It's a good thing Helena can make herself useful not only to the few people in the ghetto with money or food to offer, but to the more flexible guards as well. She performs chores and services for petty officials who aren't too picky about where the aid is coming from, and makes herself as indispensable as she can. Her practical nature keeps them alive now, and she even suggests ways that Salomon can make himself useful. It's a difficult life, one they're not used to, though nowhere near as bad as it could be, considering. Then comes the day, when little Jonas--shy, yet bright and curious like his father--is around four years old, when trucks arrive, and everyone is instructed to gather what belongings they can carry, they're going to be relocated. Where?--to the east, that's where all their sort are being sent, they'll be taken there on trains, and can start a new life. Salomon feels a creeping dread he can't quite explain. Nothing he's read about is quite like this, yet...the histories are full of similar stories, and he knows that such people as those in this new government can lie. Still...it isn't as if they can refuse. They gather their most important items and valuables, Helena picks up Jonas, and they climb in the truck. The vehicle is crowded with others who peer at each other anxiously in the dimness as the truck rumbles and bounces along; nobody talks. When Jonas or one of the other children whimper, their parents gently shush them. Everyone's focused on not upsetting the men in the uniforms; maybe if they cause no trouble, they'll get no trouble in return. They're let off the truck at a railway station, where things are getting rather chaotic. The uniformed men are instructing the newcomers to board various trains; plenty of confused arguments are breaking out. There are piles of discarded belongings on the walkways. Salomon is glad they didn't bring much, but still, "Stay close," he murmurs, and the little family huddles together. They follow the brusque gestures of the men who wave them along, keeping their heads down, making no fuss, though Helena gasps when the uniformed men grab one protesting man and drag him away from his wife. They don't get to focus on this much before "Papers!" another man exclaims, jerking his hand at them, and Salomon hastily hands over their IDs. The man quickly glances through them; says, "You won't need them," when Salomon tries to ask for them back, which he finds perplexing, of course they need their papers if they'll be starting over in the east, what does he mean?--then, "You and the boy, this way, the woman, that way," and he gestures at two different trains. Salomon and Helena freeze, glance at each other, then back at the man. "But--this is my wife, my son's mother, we're together," Salomon explains, thinking surely there's been a misunderstanding. The man has already started to turn his attention to somebody else; when Salomon dares to pluck at his sleeve, he jerks his arm away and barks at him. "Men and women--different trains! No exceptions! You and the kid on this train, the woman on that one! Now, before I make you!" "Salo," Helena says when he tries to protest again, and he looks at her; she hands Jonas to him. "Go on, take him." "Mama...?" says a confused Jonas, and "But--what about you?" asks Salomon. "I'll be fine. Look after Jonas till we get there." She kisses him--"I love you"--then kisses a tearful Jonas--"Love you, Liebling, mind your papa, ja?" "Love you," Salomon murmurs; "Love you, Mama," says Jonas. "That way," the uniformed man says impatiently, waving, and Helena heads for a line of women boarding another train. She glances back at them as she goes, kisses her fingers, waves at them; Jonas starts sniffling as Salomon waves back, and at a curt "Go on, that way," from the uniformed man, they turn and trudge toward the nearest train. Helena disappears from sight; for the first time, Salomon fears for her safety, wishes he could be there to keep her safe from...what? They're relocating east, aren't they...? As soon as they board the train, his confusion grows; he'd thought it looked strange, but he's not too familiar with trains. He finds himself in a car devoid of any seats or compartments; the other men and boys crowding it either stand or huddle on the bare floor. "Is there some mistake--?" he calls to the uniformed man outside, yet all he does is pull the door shut and lock them in. "Papa!" Jonas exclaims at the sudden darkness; the only light filters in through small spaces between the wooden slats, and a tiny window too high up to reach. "Shh," Salomon says, nudges his way to an unoccupied corner, and sits, holding Jonas close. "It'll be all right," he whispers, "just keep still and be good." All the books he's read were full of stories of people who fought back, who resisted, yet Salomon isn't a fighter. He's lived his life by the tenet that if you behave and don't cause trouble, bad things pass you by, and so he follows that now. He worries more about Helena, alone with no one to look out for her. The trip, mercifully, isn't that long, though Jonas does doze off in his father's arms. The weather is temperate so they neither swelter nor freeze. Salomon's legs are starting to ache by the time the train finally begins to slow. The city where they lived isn't too far from the border, so it's plausible that that's where they've arrived, yet when the door is hauled open and they're ordered to come out, and Salomon finally steps out into the light and has to shield his eyes, he's confused anew...this isn't a train station...he doesn't have the words to describe what this is. He stares at the numerous tracks and ramps and fences with barbed wire, the massive yards and numerous buildings, smoking chimneys, watchtowers, uniformed men with guns, several of them yelling for everyone to get on the ramp, get in line, single file, keep moving, schnell. He hesitates a bit too long; one of the men shoves on his arm. "Go on! Get in line," he orders, and Salomon hastens to do so, holding Jonas tight. He enters a long line heading along a wooden ramp. The officials they pass issue different orders. One tells him to leave his belongings behind; he glances around and sees piles of discarded items, like at the railway station. "But--we were told to bring our things," he says; "You'll get them back later," the uniformed man, looking indistinguishable from all the rest, says, "Just leave them for now, and keep in line," and though Salomon wants to ask how they'll get everything back to its owner--there must be hundreds of men on the ramp and in the lines--he bites his tongue, and leaves his few belongings behind (though he does keep his money concealed on his person, just in case). He hugs Jonas to keep him calm, peers at the smoking chimneys, wrinkles his nose at the acrid smell, tries to keep his head. Thinks of his dear Helena, hopes that she's all right and once this is settled he'll see her soon. "Stay in line! Single file! Keep moving, keep moving! Schnell!" The men with the death's head on their caps and collars keep walking along and waving the lines forward. One of them, holding a ledger and pen, stands ahead, questioning and gesturing at the newcomers as they come before him, telling them which way to go. Salomon notices that some family groups are still being separated, adults sent one way, young children and elderly another, and clutches Jonas hard enough to make him whimper. Their turn finally comes and the man with the ledger gives them the briefest look before saying, "Name?" "S...Salomon. Salomon Urbach." "Age...?" Salomon gives his age, place of birth, profession. "This your kid?" the man says, then asks for his information, which Salomon gives. Before he can tell them which way to go, Salomon swallows his fear and dares to speak up. "Ex--excuse me, mein Herr," he stammers, unsure how to address the man, and gets an irked look, "this...this is my son, he's already been parted from his mother, bitte, don't separate us. He's too little to be on his own. Bitte, let us go the same way, together...? Bitte, I beg." The man with the ledger has been scowling more and more as Salomon talks; though after he gets out the words let us go the same way, together, his mouth forms a straight line, and he glances Salomon up and down, as if appraising him. His mouth twitches now and he jerks his head. "Left!" He doesn't tell Salomon to let Jonas go. They're being sent left together. Salomon hugs Jonas again--"Danke, danke," he thanks the man profusely, grateful; the man just waves him away and turns his attention to the next in line. "Papa...?" Jonas says. Salomon cups his head. "Don't worry. I'm right here." He starts walking before one of the nearby uniformed men can shove him again. "I'm not letting you out of my sight." "Where's Mama...?" Jonas asks, lip quivering. "I miss her." "We'll see Mama soon. Shush, and be a good boy now, ja? Papa's here." He looks and sees that the others told to go left are now heading for a large low building with armed guards at the doors. "BRAUSEBAD," says the sign above; "Shower." Holding Jonas close, relieved to not have to leave him behind as he left behind Helena, he picks up his pace and approaches. Helena's side of the story is told in HER ENTRY. Ironically, as Salomon worries that some awful fate may befall her, Helena keeps hope that Salomon and Jonas have had better luck than she does. She learns the truth only after her own liberation and it nearly breaks her. She takes solace in using the same skills that kept her alive to now help others, and although the missing space in her heart once filled by her husband and son always remains raw, it slowly mends, a little bit. After the war she connects with Sgt. Camo Rat, who also lost his spouse and child; although the circumstances were much different, he's the first one she's personally encountered who can truly understand her situation. They grow close, though neither ever falls out of love with the ones they lost. Please see also Jonas's entry. [Salomon Urbach 2025 [Friday, June 6, 2025, 12:00:10 AM]] |