Chapter 9 ■ A Way Out
Connections—contacts in the right places—helped my parents survive during their exodus. contacts in the right places. It’s easy to imagine father scrutinizing the cacophony of actors, manipulating his chess pieces, using his confidence to command the room despite his awkward brace, the corrective boot adding several inches to his foreshortened right leg. It didn’t stop him. Somehow others looked past it. He had his wit and he had his Otylia.
One afternoon the captain’s wife returned with a foot-pedal Singer sewing machine. [I’m assuming, through the cajoling of Jakub, Otylia offered to teach Tania Krassov how to sew] and after that we spent much time in Komandir Krassov’s spacious quarters, a large room facing the street. We were invited to dinner frequently, after which the two wives pedaled away on the machine, turning out dresses for themselves and pinafores for the children, if Mme. Krassov found cloth. We accepted the invitations gladly, as we discovered the Army provisioned its officers with better food than we could purchase.
At first, after-dinner conversation between Komandir and myself dealt with the unusual spring warmth, the need for rain, and the shortest way from the villa to the center of town, among other unprovocative subjects. I was careful to voice no opinions on my real thoughts.
While the wives sewed, Captain Krassov brought out a hand-carved chess set he purchased from some hard-up Lvóvian who accepted the 100 Rubles for the ivory pieces.
The captain was the first to talk away from non-committal subjects when one evening he began discussing the War.
“The British are weaklings,” the captain began, as we concluded a game. He maneuvered his pieces up and down the board as in the Battle of the Lowlands and the Battle of France to show why. This was the first time either of us had made a statement on any subject beyond the weather. “I don’t want the Nazis to win, but the British are making it impossible for Hitler to lose.”
I made no comment.
The First Lady of Underfashions is a nonfiction saga-like memoir written by Christina Erteszek and includes excerpts from her parents' unpublished memoirs. It is a complex, layered, and nuanced story that bridges the violence of war, the innovation of thought, the singularity of religion, the quest for identity, and the intrigues and intricacies of family life. Jan and Olga escape from World War II Europe and arrive in the US with just a few dollars. They turn their paltry savings into a multi-million-dollar fashion business. Olga becomes a leading patent holder of female lingerie, a trendsetter in the industry, and is widely known for her innovative business tactics. But as this husband-and-wife team think of retiring, they decide to merge with another fashion company, which proves to be a fatal move when a loophole in the agreement allows for a hostile takeover. This is also a story of a daughter's need to find herself. Along her path to self-discovery, she discovers her parents have many secrets, some of which will never be revealed.