From
the Ghetto Lodz To Auschwitz
Biographical Episodes
by Victor Breitburg
| Victor,
a survivor of the Lodz ghetto and Auschwitz, is one of "The Boys," a group
of several hundred young camp survivors sent to England in 1945 and 1946.
Their experiences have been immortalized in Martin Gilbert's acclaimed
book, "The Boys: Triumph over Adversity," published in 1996. Victor
arrived in England with the Windermere group and lived in the Cardross
Hostel in Scotland. He emigrated to the United States in the late forties
and has maintained contact with "The Boys". He is actively engaged in Holocaust
education and is held in high esteem by the educational authorities in
New Jersey. '45 Aid
Society Web Site |
Life in
The Ghetto 1943:
Thank
God once again we survived the winter. So many people died last winter from
freezing and malnutrition; they had nothing left to fight with. Spring brought
some warmness and the Green leaves on the trees were trying to talk to us “Wake
up and spread your wings. But wings are hanging down next to our bodies and
there is no strength to left. We looked at our sun if it was a goddess of
pleasure and the winter as it was the devil.
The
life in the ghetto was not improving even our hopes are starting to wane this
war was supposed to have lasted only for a couple month and now we are already
are in our third year. Continuously people are being sent out from the ghetto
on the pretext that they are going to be resettled. The speeches of Chaim
Rumkowski chastising us that we are not working hard enough is falling on deaf
ears. We are working 10 hours day and we give as much as we can muster, but
seems it is not enough. Once again our ration were cut and we just don’t have
enough left in us to work any harder. The Jewish police sometimes forget that
we are also Jews. Sometimes I think that the Chairman Chaim Rumkowski and his
henchmen think that the war will last forever. They are on the borderline of
being collaborators with the Germans.
Still
people were falling in love, getting married, and what was not understandable
how is it possible that they brought in children in this dismal world. Everyone
tried very hard to forget the dead and being happy that at least they survived.
And hopping for a better tomorrow.
My father looked sick.
He lost a lot of weight and his cloth was
barely hanging on his body, also He is starting to miss work and sleeps a lot.
What is scaring me most that sometimes he coughs up with blood, and he limps on
the right side where he was wounded in the beginning of the war. My mother gives
more food to my father more than his ration, but I guess it is not enough.
Every once a while I feel that my father is looking at me like he was evaluating
me. Most of the time we had our Sunday’s off. I was always enchanted to listen
to my father telling us about the First World War. And now I was repeating
those stories to Felek my brother. How proud was I when I saw my father
marching in his uniform on the Polish Independence Day. The gleam in his blue
eyes and smiling looks was saying I am a Jew and I am an officer in the Polish
army. My mother was a remarkable woman, she did miracles with stretching our
rations and kept reminding me to that I have to teach the children how to read
and write. My mother came from Kaminsk. I don’t think that they had a public
school there. She never learned how to read Polish and most of the language
that was spoken in our home was Yiddish. But, her master in the knowledge of the
Yiddish language was masterful. She always read books and we always were
treated to a story before we went to sleep I am seventy-four years old and some
of the stories are still living in them.
Our yard is adjacent to one of the oldest cemetery in Lodz. Every
once in while I climbed over the brick fence to the others side. I find some
peace there. Normally I would bring a book with me to read. From all the
places a cemetery gave me a peace and solitude. When I would read, and found
myself forgetting where I was. I was where the story of the book was; there was
a land where humans are treated the way they should be.
In all
this chaos, we in the ghetto established an underground trade school, symphony,
and a theater. We pray and observe our religion what we were taught for
thousands of years
I am sixteen
years old and I
never went out with a girl, and wondering what it would feel like. I had a
crush on a girl her name was Gisela who lived in our building, but she did not
know that I even existed. Once she tried to converse with me but my tongue got
twisted that she walked away laughing. Within a couple months her parents,
and Gisela was evacuated,
to so-
called resettlement to another part of Germany. Later on we learned that they
all perished in Chelmno gas chamber.
Within a couple weeks I turned over the soil on my little plot and
planted my first tomatoes, finally Spring was here.
Several of our former neighbors came to visit my father, they sat
and reminiscent about the prewar times.
Sala
Finkelstein, who was a friend of mine since I was six years old. She was two
years older than I was and when I started to go to school she used to help me
out with my homework. She heard that my father was sick and she came to see
us. I was surprised to see how she changed from a little scrawny face-freckled
fifteen year old girl there was standing a beautiful woman. “How are you Shlomo?” She asked me. Before I had a chance to answer; my mother chimed in.
He is wonderful and a lot of woman in our building would like to adopt him. My
face turned red, and tried to deny but the more I said the worse it got. I will
never forget how both of them were laughing. After a while the laughter
subsided and I was angry that I became their spectacle. Sala turned around and
took my hand and she led me out to the yard and said “remember we never joke
about people who we don’t like.” We talked for a while about what was going on
in the Ghetto. She told me that she has to see somebody in the neighborhood and
she will see me next Sunday. Sala always was nice to me, I guess that she felt
towards me like a brother she never had. Since then I saw Sala of and on, and I
always was delighted to see her on Sunday most of the factories were off and one
day in the week we tried to live as normal as we could. Sala showed up early
afternoon. “Can we go same where private?” Sala asked “Can you climb” I
asked? She nodded and I put up the ladder against the wall and motioned her to
start climbing. She started to laugh “If I climb first you are going to be able
see what I am wearing under my dress. I never gave a thought but it would have
been nice. I founded waiting for me and we both sat down on a tombstone. She
started crying “what is the mater Sala? I asked I did not expect that. “ I
miss you, Motek. Moishe and the yard and the way we lived” and she continued
reminiscing. She reminded me of the story how we all tried to teach my mother’s
chicken how to fly. At this point we started to laugh and we forgot chaos all
around us. The sun started to set and the curfew was in abut hour we decided to
leave. She took me around and kissed on lips. Once again I felt that my face
was turning red and I kissed he lightly back. She gave a surprised look and
started to laugh “Shlomo one of this days I am going to teach you how to kiss,”
Sala said. I saw hone more time but she did not see me, I hid because I was
dirty from the bag of sawdust I was caring. I never saw Sala again.
After
the war I tried to find her but she was not on any lists of people who
survived. Her name was
Sala Finkelstein
11 go Listopada 58
Lodz
Poland
Friday
June 18 1943
Around 12 noon my mother arrived at my place of work at the Tishler
Resort and asked the guard that it is imperative for her to see me. I was
summand to the Commissar Mr. Terkeltaub. I was not surprised, because in the
past he used to send me for some errands to do to different factories. He
looked very somber and advised me that my mother is waiting for me at the
guardhouse. Mr. Terkeltaub gave me a permission slip to leave the factory and
also told me and if I needed anything he would help.
I knew that my father was not feeling well for the last couple of
days and I summarized that he might have to go to the hospital. I met my mother
at the guardhouse and we hurried home.
On the way home,
my mother told me that my father did not go to work. He felt too sick. It did
not take long before we arrived home. He was sleeping. I walked over to him,
took his hand, and asked him how he felt; all I felt was a slight squeeze on the
palm of my hand. For the first time it dawned on me that this man, my father is
dieing. How is it possible? Yes, he lost some weight, and for the last couple
months there were some traces of blood in his phlegm.
My mother
brought over some soup and told to feed my father. I propped him up, and I took
a spoonful of soup and put it to his lips. He gently pushed it a way. I was
afraid if I forced it into his mouth he might gag. Once again I was holding his
hand, and once again I felt the squeeze. I looked at my mother, and she
motioned me to sit there and hold his hand.
I looked at him. There was
a man who had so much life in him, how he used to love to ride horses, swim, and
tell stories from the First World. He served in the Polish cavalry and he was
wound at Tarnepole near the Ukrainian border. For that he received a medal for
valor. What I could not understand is that, his medal stated that he served
from 1918-1921. Then in 1918 he must have only been sixteen years old. We had
a picture sitting in full uniform on cavalry horse hanging on the wall. How
proud and handsome he looked. Here I was sitting and there was my father dieing
he was loosing his battle at 41, and at sixteen I am also fighting for my life
too.
I felt that he
loosened his hand; I tried to feel if there was a pulse. At the same time I
felt the hand I held became waxy. I tried to talk to him and then I looked at
my mother, she was quietly sobbing. She took me around and quietly said; “and
now you will have to say Kaddish for whole year.” I sat there motionless
looking at him. Is this all what life is? Just a while ego he was squeezing my
hand and now he looked like he was sleeping with the eternal sleep. I shivered
even though it was June the shiver was fear. How dare you to die, why did you
give up. I kept looking at him as I was trying to transmit my thought to him.
Once again I took his hand and held it for while looking at his face. Yes, his
face was pale and rigged, the eyes and his cheeks were sunken and the outline of
a skeletal head. His suffering is over but we must survive.
Within a couple
of hours some men came to our house They laid my father on a portable table,
washed him, and put tachrichim and his talit (burial cloth) on him. And was
ready to be buried. They positioned that his legs were facing the door. The
sunset on the horizon and my mother lit the candle to welcome the Sabbath
Somebody
notified my place, because Mr. Terkeltaub sent over two burial boards with a
permission note to stay home for the coming week.
Next day my father was
buried at Marshinsky Cemetery plot number 512. At the grave I said Kaddish for
the first time. Present were all the families we had in the Ghetto including my
father’s brother Moisho and his wife Ruchel and many others. Came over, he took
me around and said “you have to take care of the my brother’s family and if you
need any help come to me.” For the first time I kissed him because truly I felt
lonely.
I said Kaddish
up to January 1944 and then I stopped, when my mother asked me why did I stop, I
told her that when you say Kaddish you are glorifying God and not the person who
died. I told her that I would pray for my father in my own way.
Since
then I refrain to say Kaddish and the Ulainu, because I have to bow my head to
the almighty.
August
15, 1944
At the
mid of July rumors were going around that the Ghetto is going to be resettled.
Most probable like it was in the past, they will weed out some
more people and everything will stay the way it was in the past. All
through the past five years, the Germans demanded to hand over people to work
outside the ghetto. 1943 was quit a peaceful year but all this changed in June
1944 when an order of a resettlement were given They wanted 10,000 and in the
past Rumkowski bargained down to over 7000 people and once again everything went
back to normal. Usually some of the people got a notification of resettlement,
their ration card were withdrawn. Afterwards they reported to the railroad
station and were sent out and we never were heard from them again. We never
thought that anything would happened to them than go to work outside the
ghetto. After the Ghetto went through a cleaning, we who were left went back to
work. The same time normally we got new arrivals from other part of Europe to
fill in the void in the labor market.
Somehow this was not the same as in the past; this time we were at
the lowest count of the population in the Ghetto. When the ghetto closed in
April 1940, the population was approximately 160,000 people, but as the
population thinned down, the Germans resettled other people from other part of
Europe to fill the gap in the labor force. But this time it was different our
total population were down to 75,000 and this included women and children who
were not able to work.
I met the commissar off the place were I worked Mr. Terkeltaub and
asked him whether the rumors were true. I always was on good term and the door
to his office was always open for me. He selected me to be a runner. When a
German commission came to the Ghetto inspect our factories, they first stop was
at the metal factory. We were told when the inspection going to be and he made
sure that I would be there. When the inspectors showed up, I picked up a couple
of sharpened saws and went back to our factory to notify the commissar that the
inspectors will show upwithin a hour. Of course this gave us time to prepare
materials and to show how efficient we are. But this time I met him by chance
on the street outside the factory. "Mr. Terkeltaub, what is happening with all
the rumors about the disbanding of the Ghetto?” I asked. " Yes, beginning of
August, we are going to dismantle the factory and ship all equipment to
Germany.” He said. I asked him one more question. "Are we going to go with
the factory to Germany?” "Victor, don't believe what they are saying, hide
yourself and your family because the Russian liberation will be here soon, and
more I than that I can not tell you.” I was astounded at his frank answer.
I came
home and I told my mother and advice her to get the family together. The coming
Sunday my aunt's Sheindle, Regina, and my uncle Moshe assembled in our house. I
told them what Mr. Terkeltaub told me. Each of our families had small children
and the totals with the adults were eleven including the children. My aunt
Sheindle said that she had the ideal place for our purpose. All of us went over
to her apartment and after removing a couple boards we saw there was a large
cellar. I voiced my opinion that the Germans will look for cellars.
"Climb
down and remove the metal plate, and you will see a sub-cellar. The people who
lived here previously used to store perishable food for their grocery place,”
my aunt Sheindle said. I removed the metal plate and climbed down. My uncle
Moshe and I climbed down and lighted a candle and we carefully started to
observe the large underground pit. We were standing about twelve feet below the
floor level, what we felt was the cold and musty smell. "Well we have a job to
prepare our selves before we send anybody down.” My uncle said. We also
noticed that there were free standing shelves. My uncle suggested that we
should dismantle the shelves and build a floor so we can bring down some
bedding.
We must
have some food for at least for five days, by that time they would have gone
past our area. We all thought that this was only another resettlement, after
the beast had his bellyful and than like in the past we will return to work.
But it was not as it was in the past, the Germans started to divide
the Ghetto into section and a curfew was established. Streets that every
resident had to report to the railroad station for the purpose of resettlement.
We had just enough time to get to my aunt’s building. She was already waiting
for us. The sub cellar was ready and we did some practice how fast we can run
down and slide the hatch over the opening over the sub-basement. So far my
uncle Moshe and his wife did not show up and this worried me. We were able to
get the eight people down less than two minutes that was good. I decided to
test it out and told everyone to watch out for me. I walked out and within a
couple minutes I returned. The room was empty. I made believe that I am
looking for them and didn’t take me too long to spot where the opening was to
the basement. I lifted the three boards and try to see if a German would have
noticed the sub-basement. I called out everyone to come out and I felt that I
have missed something. I felt like a big shot, I felt that everyone was
listening to me. “That plate which covers the sub-basement hast to be
camouflaged. Once again I was thinking how clean the Germans are, and what will
prevent them from looking any farther? “Take an old straw mattress and put it
over the plate and we have to set up that somebody was sleeping on it, and that
person was sick.” My mother said. Of course we are going stage for whoever is
going to look down. We brought down a mattress, and some blankets. We also
took some old medicines and put in on a wooden box next to the mattress. If
this wasn’t enough, we found a candle, and we lit it until it was half burnt
down and then we extinguish it. I lay down on the mattress to create that
somebody slept there, and then in privacy some of us urinated on the mattress to
create a sickening smell.
For the next couple days we were watching for our turn to be told to
report to the station. Within the next couple days the round up started. As
soon we spotted the German SS with the Jewish police approaching our area down
we hid in the pit.
We were wondering why they didn’t search the building we were in.
We did not have to wait long; with in a couple days the area was bristling with
Germans and Jewish police. They went through every apartment, knocked on the
walls, and looked for hidden places. All of us were holding our breath
including the children. In that pit were in hiding my aunt Shindal and her
daughter Reizel who was 15 years old. Our family my mother and my sister Sara
Kaila who was 4 years old my brother Felek (Favel) 12 years old and myself. My
aunt Regina with her 3-year-old son who also was named after my Grand-father
Shloimo Vigdor. I don’t remember whether my uncle Moshe and his wife ever
showed up.
We never realized how cold and wet that under ground pit was. After
a while the cold and wetness got to you. Worst of it all we only had food left
to last us only two more days, and we spent more time now in hiding.
We
heard them opening the floor and shining down and next we heard them swearing
like we expected and they left. We did not dare to leave our hiding place for
fear to get caught. As the days progress the children were getting sick and the
coughing were progressing from the children to the adults.
This was the fourth day and the inspection of the German SS did not
subside. My mother turned to very quietly and said; ”I don’t think we have a
choice Sarah is very sick and if we don’t give up she most will probably die.
We all climbed up. It was already dark, but we did not dare to light a candle
for fear that somebody might spot us. Sarah definitely had fever and her face
had a yellowish hue. “Sarah is sick therefore tomorrow we are going to give
ourselves up. They promised that we are going to Germany and they need our
labor. The war is coming to an end and they let us live for five years why
would they want to kill us now? We will not divulge your hiding place so you
are safe.” My mother said. I was hoping that somebody would try to stop us. I
did not object because there was not any choice, Sarah was sick and we must get
help for her. I saw in their faces the pain and fear, they were wiling to share
what ever they had, but they had no right to stop us.
The next day we gave ourselves up. The German SS encountered us and
asked where the others, we told him that there are no others. He looked at
Sarah and told the Jewish policeman to escort to the railroad, and when we get
there let the doctor look at this poor child. I seems we were not thinly once
who came to the conclusion that is safe to leave the Ghetto.
When we
arrived at the station there were several columns of people to be loaded on the
trains. Every one had the look and uncertainty what is going happen next.
Jewish policeman escorted us to a hut which had a Red Cross marking
on it, a doctor came The out wearing a white gown, and looked at Sarah. He went
back in and came out caring a cup. The doctor gave some milk and honey to
Sarah, and she eagerly drank it all down. I thanked the doctor for his help.
He interrupted me; “When you get to the destination you are going to, make sure
this young child sees a doctor.” Once again I tried to thank him but he brushed
me off. “Stay on the line, go on to the train, and don’t forget what I told
you.” “Now get on the train.” I almost felt grateful to him. Maybe there are
some nice Germans, maybe because he is a Doctor. I looked at Sarah and some
color came back to her face. She smiled weakly at me. As always she brought a
smile back from me. I took her from mother; she was beautiful and helpless.
She had beautiful blue eyes and curly blonde hair. Yes, she definitely was a Breitburg.
Good by
Lodz, August 15th
1944:
We joined the line to get on
the train. As our turn came, we each received a loaf of bread. Jewish
policeman assisted my mother into the train. When mother was in; Felek, my
brother, and I climbed aboard. It took awhile until the train was filled up,
and then I heard the door slam close and a latch locked us in. I looked around
and tried to count how many people were there on the train. I was surprised
when I finished counting there were only sixty odd people.
We must have been the last
ones; therefore, we had little more space than the people in the other train.
We did not move for about two hours. Then the train slowly started to move.
Within a couple of minutes Lodz was behind. There was a great silence. We
feared what was ahead of us.
Goodbye Lodz, I
felt that we would never come back once we will leave Poland and enter Germany.
After the war we will try to go to America. They promised us that we are going
to Germany because factories are there, and they needed us as workers there. It
made sense, because for the last four years we produced for the army whatever
they needed.
Lodz was so well
organized that we felt we are indispensable to the Germans we made their shoes,
socks, pants, sweaters. Shirts etc. What they did not know; was that we could
have produced twice as much as we did. We were the first Ghetto in Poland to be
established and the last one to be disbanded in Europe It is only a resettlement
for us, and somewhere we would have to start all over again.
Somebody on the train asked that we should all pray for our safe arrival.
Everybody stood up, and prayer reverberated throughout the train. It wasn’t a
prayer; it was more a plea to God for mercy, and for his children of Israel, and
for our deliverance to safety. We all felt that the train was picking up
speed. We were wondering where our destination is going to be.
We must have been
traveling for several hours, with some stops to permit other trains to pass. We
observed east bound trains were army trains and the west was the Red Cross
trains. We knew that the Germans were having heavy casualty on the eastern
front. They were losing the war. Are they winning on the western front, is
this why they needed our help?
We stopped for the
night and every one settled to sleep. We still had bread, and there was a
barrel of water, which was left for us on the train. If we had to go to the
toilet we put up a little curtain and through a crack in the floor we fornicated
down into the railroad rails. The mood on the train improved with everyone’s
thoughts; if they wanted to kill us then why take up such a valuable train.
We must have
stopped a dozen times. Every time we stopped, we stood there for hours. This
was the third day.
All of sudden there was a
commotion. We went through a gate and the train stopped. There was a silence,
and we knew we had arrived. Everyone put on their backpacks and waited the
doors of the train to open up. I was able to hear my heart beating. I was not
at ease at all, and my lips were trembling. My mother took us around told to
stay together, and if for some reason we would be divided we, should not forget
that our meeting destination will be by her sister in Brooklyn. She kissed us.
I hugged my mother. I said nothing is going happen to us, we are going to stay
together. I took Felek’s hand but he pulled away: Felek said “ Take care of
Sarah I am twelve years old and am able to help myself.” I smiled at him. He
certainly is growing up. I was surprised at his reaction. He turned out to be
such good-looking kid. Once again: he is a Breitburg; blond and blue eyes, and
I am a cross breed between the Wajnmans and Brajtburgs. How hard was the
waiting for the door to slide open. We did not know what to anticipate. I felt
that moment we should all pray to the All Mighty. “Please let this end, this
nightmare for us, so that one day we might return to the Promised Land and serve
you for eternity.”
Birkenau, August 18th 1944:
Abruptly the door
slid open, “out of the train now!” “Make it fast!” The men in prison uniform
shouted.
We hurried off the
train, I looked around, and I saw that S.S. storm troopers with dogs surrounded
us. A chill went through my body, what is happening?
“Women and
children to the right and men to the left!” was the next command.
I decided to stay
with the family. I am not yet a man. I am only seventeen years old.
“Go with the men I will take
care of the children” my mother said. We promised each other that we are we are
going to stay together, “I want to go with you,” I begged. No, you have to go
with the men, please go,” Before I had a chance to answer a man grabbed me by my
arm and pushed me towards the column where men were.
“Listen to your mother and go
with the men”
Who is he to tell me where to
go? I turned around I did not see my mother or my siblings.
All right I will go for now
with the men, but the minute I settle I will find them that was my thought about
my family. There are too many people to fight for now, but nothing will stop me
from finding them.
“Move fast move
fast!” The men in stripes were screaming at us. Whistles blowing, dogs were
barking, men were pushing not knowing where to move, it reminded me of a cattle
round up.
“Why are they all screaming
at us?” ”What is happening here?”
Are we walking in a trap? My
mind was racing in every direction. I was looking to escape, to no avail; the
SS and their dogs surrounded us.
I found myself in
front of a German officer. He wore, a black uniform and brown shirt with SS
insignia, he pointed a horsewhip at me pointing that I should go to the left.
I was like a
robot, no more arguing, or thinking just obeying. Do what you are commanded to
do. I did not walk I ran to the building where other men were assembled.
“Take your cloth off, and
hung them up.”
Your clothes has to be
disinfected!” we were ordered.
“You’re going to be inspected
and afterward you are going to take a shower. I never gave any thought at to
how are we going to get our clothes back because we were told that our clothes
had to be tagged with our name, therefore, after the shower we would get our
clothes back.
Once again we
lined up for an inspection, and once again a SS officer was pointing to each
person whether he should go to the right or to the left. When my turn came he
pointed to the left. I hesitated for fraction of time maybe I should go to the
right? All the people who were selected to go to the right looked sickly and
most probably they will wind up with the family compound. Once again he pointed
at me that I should go to the left. “Mach du shnel (make it fast),” he barked at
me. This time I moved to the room where there were showerheads from the
ceiling. Within couple minutes the room filled in with rest of the selected men
and we all. We were waiting for the water from the showerheads to go on. The
doors were closed, and we were standing naked in total darkness waiting. It
felt like eternity.
“They are going to kill us.”
Somebody shouted
“They are playing a game
with us.” Some body else said.
Again the doors opened up, some more people came in, once again the
doors closed, and this time the water came down from the showerheads. We
all felt relieved, and we washed ourselves in total darkness. A couple of
minutes past and the doors opened up and there were standing the striped
uniformed camp inmates with sticks and yelling at us. Get out fast!
Another group is coming in, and as you run they kept hitting and swearing at
us. I was too fast for them to be hit, but many had red marks all over
their bodies. I could not understand all this brutalities from other
inmates. Finally I came over to long table where there were piles of
clothes. Some other inmates were there they looked at you and thru some
clothes at you. I grabbed a pair of pants, a jacket, and a pair of shoes.
The pants were slightly too long, the jacket was fine, but the shoes were
tight. I went over to him and politely asked if I could exchange them.
“Get away you Jew,” he said in Polish. I stood up to him, “you should know
better” I said to him while looking straight at him. For a while there was
a stand off. A German soldier happened to pass by “ Vas is los?” (What is
the mater?) The German asked. Before the Polish inmate had a chance to say
anything I spoke first. How am I supposed to work with these shoes when I
cannot even put my feet in them? Am I supposed to cut off my toes? . I
must have looked funny. I was standing, holding my pants it should not fall
off wearing a jacket and holding a pair of shoes that anybody could have
seen it that it was to small. “Go over to the pile and pick up a pair of
shoes,” the German said. I immediately thanked him, but that was not the
end he also pointed where pants were. “Go and exchange those stupid pants”
Like lighting I was on the top of the pile pants I picked the best I could
find. The German looked at the Polish inmate with the same hate as they
normally looks at Jews. I knew that somehow I have to make peace with the
Pole. While he was handling out cloths again approached him “what do you
want now?” I want to apologize for the misunderstanding. “You got guts” he
smiled, I reached out and we shook hands. To tell the truth I was scared
for the consequences, with my apology and shaking his hands I felt the
crises passed. They herded us into a wooden barrack. On each side there
were rows of bunks, three levels high. After we all were in, a whistle
blew, and we were told to line up on each side by. A tall heavyset man with
a whip in his hand came in and looked around. I am the Capo of this
barrack.” What I am going to tell you I will only repeat once. You are
shit; you are vermin, a cockroach, and an ant. So if you don’t want to die
you better do what I tell you. I don’t care if you live or die. In the
morning you hear a whistle: you get up and wash yourselves. You are going
to get some bread and a piece of margarine and when you hear another whistle
you step outside You are going to stay in three rows with your hats on.
When The German officer comes over to our barrack you will hear my order
“hats off,” and all of you will take your hats off at the same time
understood? You are going to be counted, and we call this an Apel. And now
you are going to practice all of you, taking the hats off at the same time.
Later when you hear the whistle you step outside for the Apel. By the time
the Apel was called, and we stood for attention, until we were counted we
were totally exhausted. We have not eaten since the evening before and now
we were standing in line for our supper meal. Each of us got a round deep
metal plate, and we were told to keep it. One of the camp trustees poured
some watery soup with three pieces of potatoes floating on top. I was
assigned with other five young boys to sleep on the top part of the bunk
bed. There were some blankets there; as I was the first one to go up I
grabbed one and covered myself, and did not take long before I was fast
asleep. A sharp whistle awoke me from my sleep. “Out of the beds and get
outside for the Apel,” the Capo screamed. I did not need to get dress,
because I fell asleep with all my clothes on. I asked where is the latrine
and is there any water to wash there. I was directed to got a couple of
barracks away and you will find the latrine and water to wash there. It did
not take me to long before I was ready. We were standing to be inspected
and counted. Even though it was in August it felt chilly, where are we? I
was questioning. Are we somewhere in North Germany? I don’t remember how
long we were standing for the Apel. All I remember is that the sunrise of
new day appeared in the sky. It must have been about five o’clock in the
morning.
Once again we got a slice
of bread a piece of margarine and some kind of liquid to drink. I did not
dare to ask if this is what we are going to eat till the evening. We were
given the freedom to walk around but we were told not approach the electric
fences. I walked outside and for the first time I was trying to evaluating
where we were. There were two rows of concrete post spaced approximately
ten to fifteen feet apart. Eight rows of barbed wire were strung. Each
wire was fastened to a china holder. There were elevated post with strobe
lights, and each post had two SS soldiers with revolving machine guns. Each
post distance was within visual range from post to post. Signs were also
were posted to be aware that the wires are electrified and any one
approaching the fences will be shot. No way can anybody escape from this
place; what are we doing here? Whatever is going on here I have to find
out first where are they keeping the women and children. No matter which
trustee I asked, no one could give me an answer. This was going on for a
while until a man stopped in our barrack and inquired about a particular
person. “Are you from Lodz” I asked “ Yes,” he answered, “I am looking for
my son “ he said, “This is the last barrack left then,” He did not finish
his sentence. “ Can you tell me where are the women and children barracks
are? “ I asked. I felt that I had caught him by surprise. “ Did you come
yesterday with the transport from Lodz?’ He asked“ I came with my mother,
and with my twelve year old brother and a four and half year old sister,” I
said This time I saw that the men’s face softened up and he had tears in his
eyes.
Come here,” he said.” Do
you see the smoke above the barracks?” “ Don’t answer me, just listen to
me, one hour after you arrived they were all gassed and cremated.” And my
son also was on this train. At this point he just turned away from me still
murmuring they are all dead.
All I could comprehend
was the word dead. It’s impossible he wants to scare me they promised us we
were good workers and they needed us. Maybe his son is dead but not my
family. I tried to find some hope, but to no avail. I was trying to fool
myself with false hope. I run to the barrack to ask the Capo if this was
true. As I entered the barracks and looked at the other inmates I knew that
the man told me the truth.
All I wanted to do was to
find a place and to think, and when I found that place I just could not
sit. I promised my father; if something is going to happen to him I will
protect the family. Why did I give in to my mother to leave the hiding
place? Would we have been better off if we were all killed together? Why
did she push me away to go with the men? At that point I spoke to God; why
did you spare me? Please take me I don’t care if live. I don’t remember
what happened for the next couple days until a man spoke to me “if you will
die then Hitler succeeded therefore you have no choice but to live.” Maybe
somebody is alive don’t say Kaddish yet.” Yes he was right I would refuse
to say Kaddish until I would find a witness who saw them die. (Kaddish is a
prayer for the dead.)
I grieve for them, but
now I wanted to live. Yes the man was right and I must thank him, I have to
survive. I looked for the man but I never found him again. We did not work
that gave us more time to mourn but, the nights were the most awful In the
darkness of the night you hared sobs all around. Sometimes I climbed down
from my bunk, found one or two people, and tried to console them. I tried
to give them some false hope, maybe not all of them perished. Don’t say
Kadish yet. We all have to pull ourselves together and look good, just in
case there would be another selection.
Within a week there was
another selection. All the young boys, my age, and a little younger were
told assemble on front of the barracks. There were three rows,
approximately 150-200 standing on attention waiting for a selection to
what? Are we going to be selected to go to work? Or are we selected to the
gas chamber? No matter what they are going to tell me I would not believe
them any more. We were brought to attention, and we heard the command “hats
off!” and our hats come off our heads in unison like one.
Once again a tall lanky
SS officer with a medical insignia was looking us over a slight smile. This
time I stood straight and looking at him straight in the eyes. After a
while with his hand pointing at the person started the selection. This time
we were told to step forward of the line. He has selected approximately
fifty boys and the rest he dismissed.
“You were selected to
work. You will be treated better and you will be getting some better food.
I did not a believe a word he said, didn’t the doctor at the Lodz station
that as soon we arrived at our destination to see for medical help for Sara,
and did she go. Now the Germans are going to treat us better? I don’t
believe you any more.
Follow me, and we
followed him. We came to a barrack and we were told to line up in a single
line. As I entered there were three inmates at a table. “Tell me your
first name, last name, and date of birth and where did you come from?”
After I gave him all the information he wanted, he turned me over the next
inmate. “Put out your left arm!” This time it was like a command. He
grabbed my arm, twisted till my back of my arm was facing him. I was not
able to see what he was doing, all I was able to feel that a needle was
pricking at my skin. “You number is B 7568” the inmate #2. I looked at the
back of my lower arm and there was a tattoo B 7568. Again I was motioned to
go to inmate #3. “Sit down and don’t move” at this point inmate #3 grabbed
my head and begun to cut off all my hair on my head. “Now you ready to take
a shower, get going” I could help it I quipped back at him they will have to
wait until I have my dinner. For the first time I heard somebody laugh, and
so did I. After the shower each of us got a uniform with some patches.
“You have saw them on the right side of your jacket, the number patch goes
on top and the red triangle with the point facing to the bottom and the
yellow point facing up.” There weren’t any explanations given to us. Soon
we found out by ourselves the red meant we are communists and of course the
yellow meant we are Jews if I needed to be reminded. To all our surprise we
got a pair of so socks and a pair of underwear. I retained my shoes I did
not feel to go through another hassle. We dressed ourselves and we looked
quite decent. The pants and the jacket fitted pretty well, and we got
something, which looked like a beret type of hat. And once again I started
to laugh “ we looked like the prisoners from the American movies. Every
part of our clothes had whit and dark blue strips running vertical.
We marched for some time
till came to a gate; where we were turned over to an officer with two other
camp inmates who were waiting for us I noticed that on the gate there was a
sign
"ARBEIT MACHT FREI (WORK MAKES YOU FREE)"
AUSCHWITZ
They marched us over to a
two story red brick building. We walked up to the second floor and to our
amazements we saw rows of three high single bunk beds. Each bed had a
blanket neatly tucked in under a straw mattress. The floor and room was
clean and it had even windows which some were open. “This is block 12 and
you are going to stay for a while. Here are the rows of bunks and you
better remember to keep as clean as you see now. I am the Capo of this
building and I have whip, so if you don’t want to meet my whip just obey my
orders” here are some needles and cotton and make sure that you saw on your
patches and make them perfect. When you hear the whistle make sure you walk
down for the Apel. And remember I don’t take any nonsense!”
After the Apel we met
some of the old timers who built those buildings in the early forties. We
were warmly welcomed and what surprised me that there were so many
Christians among them. During the day all we did was cleaning whatever we
were told to do. At nights was a different story, the horrors what we went
through was getting worst. I used to be half awake in the up middle the
night and talking and fighting with my mother. I kept repeating the same
sentence, “I want to go with you. Normally one of the boys put me back to
sleep.
After two weeks we were
divided and were told that we are being sent to different labor camp. Once
again we were faced with the fear of the unknown.
Buda agriculture camp -- an Enclave of Auschwitz:
We came late in the
afternoon and were taken to one of the two barracks there. We were met by
the Capo. And once again were told the rules and what they expected of us.
Somehow there no threats like the in the prior camps. He spoke to us in
German and explained that we are going to be divided to different details.
He asked whether anyone of us has any experience in agriculture. I was the
only one who raised the hand. With a skeptical voice he asked what
experience I had...What I noticed that he had a red green insignia that
meant that he was a German. I took my hat off and in a straight unafraid
voice explained my experiences with horses. After he finished he showed us
were our sleeping bunk beds are. It was the same as it was in Auschwitz,
each one we got one part of a tree tier bunk bed. I always picked the upper
deck for one reasons; it was warmer there. It seamed that they expected us
because all our bed-bunks were next to each other.
By late in the afternoon
the rest of the inmates marched in, I saw them going directly to the pump,
working in twosome they washed and got ready for the Apel. Within half an
hour we heard the whistle and everyone was standing in line to be counted.
The Capo reported that everyone was there. Our hats were off and the
counting began. The SS officer and recording soldier were counting, but
when he came to our group of boys he stopped nodded his head like a
greeting. I thought that I was mistaken but it was confirmed later on that
he really did.
When the Apel was
finished and we all returned to the barrack we were surrounded by the
inmates wanting to know when and were we came from. Short time later food
was brought in and every one was standing in line for our evening meal. To
my surprise we got our normal portion of soup but there was some vegetables
and some meat, too finish off we got a nice slice of bread with a piece of
margarine. After everyone was finished a short Jewish inmate came over
carrying a violin and started to play. “We want to welcome” he said you.
When the violist finished then another inmate started to sing, and this was
on until the light went out. What I noticed that the men were wearing
different color patches, and mostly inmates were not Jewish. What I
summarized that we are in a political barrack I was wondering who are the
inmates in the other barrack. When I asked who is living in the other
barrack I was told that only Hungarians. When the whistle blew it was still
dark. I jumped down from my bunk and run outside to wash myself and then
returned to the barrack, I made my bed, stood in line I got my slice of
bread with margarine and got ready to go out for the Apel. I noticed a men
next o our bunk that he still did not eat his rationed of a piece of bread
instead he was kneeling and praying. I approached him and asked him to get
ready for the Apel. “Thank you son” don’t worry I will be ready, he said.
As the down appeared the
whistle blew and all stepped out for the Apel. I noticed that on the other
side of the double wires were couple other barracks. To my astonishment I
saw some woman were also assembling for an Apel. I guess I missed them
yesterday. They looked like little boys, hair cut off; their uniform
was flat like they did not have any breast. I could not help but
staring at them. They were shaved by their Capos. I also noticed
that woman in SS uniforms counted them.
After the Apel I was
assigned to a group and marched to work with them. As I figured I was
assigned to work at a stable.
“You are the one who
knows how to work with horses” The inmate who was in charge asked, “Yes
sir,” I answered. We have horses which some officer’s ride, “How would you
saddle this horse?” The stable Capo asked me. I felt good because I knew
the answer. “Sir, you would not saddle this horse, because this horse is
draft horse and they are a special bread of horses for heavy work,” I
answered. “Well you know something about horses but don’t bluff too much
what ever you don’t know I will teach you.” I remained silent; I recognized
that sometime silence was gold.
For the next couple days
I worked as hard as I could. I was cleaning the stable, brushing the horses
and after the returned from the field I made sure that the horses drank
enough water. “Hey Szlamek (that was my name in Polish) come here!” the
Capo called. I felt a shiver going down my spin; I saw how he whipped an
inmate for no reason at all. What did I do wrong. I took my hat off and
did not say anything. “Come with me and he took me to the corner of the
last stall in the stable. This is a special horse, which belongs to a SS
captain officer. He rides this horse three to four times a week. He loves
this horse but he does not like people, and this horse as mean as he is.
You have to take care of this horse. Every morning you brush him feed him
and then take him to the water basin water him and then dry him. Make sure
he does not smell from the other horses. I will tell you when the officer
wants to ride; you are going to saddle up the horse and wait outside for the
officer to arrive! When he arrives you take your hat off and hold the
stirrups until he sits comfortable, and then hand the stirrup to him and
move away fast; or he purposely will run you over.” That was some order the
Capo gave me I honestly I was scared. I had a mean horse and a mean
officer, what will be next.
It was some time in
September and once again I heard the sweet voice of the Capo summering me
like I was going to a firing squad. Come here! I run over to him and my
best voice I said; Yes Sir what did I do wrong? Did you finished with the
morning choir? “Yes” I answered. You are going out to help a man to plow
the field. It is one of your horses. You will guide the horse and he will
plow. The SS soldier will take you there, take the wagon, and pick up the
plow and the inmate; SS soldier will take you both to the field.
I was already tired, the
Apel was at four thirty this morning why are they rushing us this morning.
A thought went through my mind are we really going to plow a field? What is
the reason to plow when they will never gain the fruit of our work?
I felt tense, I did not
tell the other inmate but I made up my mind, I was much stronger then when I
arrived, he is only one soldier and if he will goes for his rifle I am going
to jump him. The SS soldier was sitting next to me. My heart was beating
and I felt what ever is going to be I am ready. “Dus ist eine sheine
tag”(it is a nice day) the soldier said. I nodded back to him “Stop das ist
der feld”(this the field). I unhitched the horse, while all the time I was
standing on the other side of the horse and eyeing the soldier. We hooked
up the plow and proceeded to plow. I introduced myself to the other inmate:
my name is Shloimo Vigdor but they call me Szlamek. He was a Hungarian Jew
from Bud-Pest. “Stop” das ist shoen gnug!” the SS soldier told me to
unhitch the horse from the plow and hitch it to the wagon. The SS soldier
told us that we can rest for while. We sat down on the wagon and we noticed
that the sun was starting to set on the horizon. We plowed for
approximately six hours and at that point we, and the horse were dead
tired.
Yom-HaKippur 1944
I felt as I was in a
trance looking at the beautiful sunset to be awakened by the melody of Yom
Kippur. The Hungarian chanted the prayer of Kol Nidre. After a while we
were ordered to start to drive back. Before we started to drive the
Hungarian said: “You see the field we plowed and you heard me chanting the
Kol-Nidre.” “Yes” I replayed, “Well this is Erev Yom Hakipur and we turned
over the soil which were covered with a grayish substance, those were the
ashes from the crematorium. Maybe it was right for me to be here, maybe
token of those ashes were of my wife and my two small children, as we were
turning over the soil I buried them” At that point quietly he started to
recite the Kadish with tears coming out of his eyes. As we were driving
back the SS soldier asked me what is wrong with the Hungarian. “Tonight is
the beginning Of the High Holy Day and he is missing not being home,” I said
He arrived to Birkenau sometime in June and went through the same rites as I
did. We both communicated in Yiddish. When we arrived back at the stable
we just had enough time for me to give water to the horse and bring him to
his stall. As we were walking the Capo asked me whether we finished plowing
the field? “No, we did not because the SS soldier told us to stop, and we
left the plow over there” I said. Then tomorrow you will have to go back.
“Sir we just turned the soil over to caver up the ashes from the
crematorium, can you get somebody else” I asked with a pleading voice.
“This is a concentration
camp and you are going back. His face turned red with anger and he made
sure that everyone heard it. Next day I started my normal routine, but he
did not send me back to plow the field to cover up the ashes from the
crematorium. For the next couple days I could not shake off the terrible
feeling that I walked on the ashes of thousands of Jewish remains. Sadness
engulfed me, and once again I question my own existence. Why was I chosen
to live and so many went to the right and perished in the gas ovens. Even
the Capo noticed that since I came back I never smile or pushed myself.
About twenty inmates were working at the stable, most of them old timers in
camp. Working in the stable I was able to organize some food as they always
brought in some vegetables for the horses. Normally on Sunday we worked a
half-day and the other part of the day we used to wash our own laundry.
When the choir was done some of the inmates entertained us. The violinist
played, then we had an opera vocalist who sang some arias from different
operas. The couple hours were quit entertaining, but like everything it had
to come to an end and we started all over next day. September was at an end
and we felt the chill in the air. It was Monday; we all knew what we had to
do. I cleaned out the two stalls. Put some fresh straw, brushed and took
them out to the trough to drink and then put in some fresh hay and barley
for them to eat.
I was told that the SS
captain is going to riding and I should get ready his horse. Immediately I
saddled up his horse. It was a beautiful stallion but he was hard to
manage, there was certain meanness to this horse. I took him out to the
trough to drink some water before he will be ridden. Suddenly I felt that
is something is happening, he was trying to get away from me. Before I was
able to contain him he stood up on his hind legs, but I was holding with
both my hand on the horses bridle. I was not about to let go and to be
trampled by this horse. And there I was up in the air and still holding on
to the bridle. The Capo and the SS captain including several inmates were
finally able to subdue the stallion. I was trembling not knowing what to
expect next. I did not know what precipitated this outburst. I heard the
SS captain yelling at somebody and when I turned around and I noticed the
unmerciful beating of an inmate with his horsewhip. After a while the
screaming of this inmate stopped, he just was laying in a puddle of blood.
I was a witness how a man was beaten to death. Well was I not warned that
we are nothing, whether we live or die it dos not make a difference. The
captain turned away from the beaten man took his gloves off and through them
on the ground and went away. ”What happened here” I thought that I was the
culprit. The man should have known better than walking with a mare in heat,
but you just learned how to fly.” I did not see any humor when I just saw a
man beaten to death.
The Miracle:
Couple days later I
developed a toothache and was brought to the veterinarian. As for a
veterinarian she certainly was a beautiful woman. When she touched me I
started to shiver. “I am not going to hurt you,” she said with a smile. A
lot did she know that it was not the fear of hurting me, I was seventeen
years old, and this was as close as I ever was to a woman.
She packed my tooth and
told me to wait outside until we all are going to go back. I thanked her
with a thought that I am going to have some more tooth aches.
I was waiting outside
when I saw some pigs and men walking with pails with hot potatoes. This
must be good place to work I thought to myself. As I was thinking I noticed
the SS captain passing in front of me. Immediately I took off my hat: “Sir
my grandfather used to have a pig farm.” I said. “I have some experience
with pigs” He recognized me from horse stable, but did not say anything and
walked away.
The same evening the Capo
after the Apel assembled some of us (the boys) and told us not report to the
regular work, we are going to work in the pig farm. I told a couple of boys
who were assigned what a bonanza was just given to them. I also warned them
about the captain, and told them about the incident with horse and the
inmate. “Remember what the Capo in Birkenau said; we don’t have any value,
so watch yourselves.” In camp I befriended two boys who must have came with
the same transport as I did. Somehow I felt a certain kinship to them and
they felt the same about me, their name were Yulek Zylbeger and Adek
Wasercjer It was only six weeks since the doors of the train opened up. I
have to live the way the man said. He was right; if I will die then nobody
will remain from our family. “No, you are not going to win this time
because I am going to survive.” I certainly learned a lot, mainly how to
hate. But one thing my mind could not comprehend, how do you murder
children?
Next morning after the Apel we were led to the pig stable.
I felt very nervous, what made me say that I had experience with pigs. The
only thing I knew about pigs, when my uncle refused to let me play with my
football, because the football was made out of pigskin, I will have to
observe what chores with pigs people are doing.
We stood on attention and
waited to be told what is expected of us to do.
Achtung! Immediately our
hats came off our heads as an elderly German sergeant appeared. He stood
for a while and looked at us, as I also was wondering what is going through
his mind? “You are going to cook potatoes for the feed for the pig. “
Watch yourselves, you are going to cook five to six hundred pounds of
potatoes per day. You will cook the potatoes until this pool is full. You
have to fill the potatoes in layers. After each layer of potatoes you will
cover them with a layers of straw.” The sergeant said. At this point he
turned us over to two Greeks from Salonica. We were divided into groups.
Yulek and I we were chosen to cook the potatoes. The next two had to wash
potatoes before we cook them, and the rest were given choppers to chop the
potatoes. As the potatoes were brought to us we filled them in a
twenty-four inch round by five feet high steamer. We closed the lid and
opened the valves and we expected that the steam would do its job. We
immediately walked away to the next steamer. When we finished the last one
we returned to the first one. The Greek shut off the valves released door
on the bottom and the first batch of potatoes rolled down to the
wheelbarrow. The other Greek picked up the wheelbarrow and deposited into
the pond. Once again we started the operation all over again.
I was amazed the speed we were cooking, and after we emptied
the steamer I kicked a couple potatoes on a side. The Greek did not say
anything matter of fact whenever I bent down to pick up a potato he and a
wheelbarrow were blocking me. Yulek not only he ate but he tried to put
some in his shirt for later on. I warned him not endanger himself. He
chuckle about it “who is going to miss some potatoes here” and dismissed my
warning. Slowly through the next couple days the pond kept filling in.
Meanwhile I kept observing how the people are working with the pigs. As I
suspected Yulek got caught filling his jacket with potatoes. He was taken
into the shed and meted out twenty lashes on his body. Late on the same day
we were told that we were not needed there any more and to report back where
we worked before. Well, it was nice while it lasted; I just wished it had
lasted a little longer. As we were ready to depart and standing in marching
orders the Captain appeared. He was looking us over and over, sudden he was
pointing at me to come forward. My heart was beating so strongly that I was
afraid that he might hear it. I took off my hat and stood straight facing
him. “You are coming back tomorrow and report to me” Yavol Her Capitan, I
turned around went back to the line where I was standing before.
Yulek for the next couple days could not sleep on his back.
I kept putting on some wet rags to sooth his pain. All through out this
ordeal, he warned me not to remind him that I warned him.
The next day I reported with other men to the pig stable. The first
assignment was to round up a couple of marked pigs, and loaded them on a
wagon. With a loud scream the pigs must have known that they are going to
be slaughtered. I shuddered; at the scream of the pigs it was like the cry
of little children. Is it possible that we all incarnate of different
beings? As the day progressed the Capo gave me the dirtiest jobs. I
understood that, I am new and I did not care, as long I was able to organize
some extra food.
Adek become my camp partner and because I had food at the
pig stable I was able to shared some of my food with him. He and the rest
of the boys did not fare as well as I did. After they came back from work
and we had to stand for the Apel they looked tired and worn. Sometime we
were standing for hours to be counted. Standing at attention, with the cold
wind and rain trashing at us, and finally the count begun. They did not
care.
Finally I was assigned to stalls where some of the sows were
ready to furrow. I was told the normal litter was from six to eight at a
time. Here I was I become a midwife to hogs. Besides delivering them I
also was taught to cut part of the fangs that they would be forced to chew.
I tattoo their ears with numbers for identification purpose.
I must have been good because nobody was checking on me. I
used to go pick up some left over food from the SS mess hall, picked up milk
to be mixed with the feeds for the young hogs. When I brought in the food
nobody was watching me and I helped to the best food but I still had to be
careful. Slowly my body started to fill in and because I did do a lot of
physical work I even started to develop muscles. One day I was sent out
with a wagon to pick up potatoes and other vegetations. I was not guarded
because it was within the confines of the camp. After picking up a full
load I turned around towards the pig stable. I stopped when some inmate
with a wheelbarrow had to cross the road. There were about fifteen of them
and the looked like skeletons. Slowly I pulled the horse back and made
believe that I had a problem. I walked over to the SS guard and if I can
have a prisoner to help me with the load. The SS guard did not tell him,
with rifle but he chased over to him. E was one of the Hungarian’s from the
other block. I told him that was nothing wrong with my load but I am going
to drop some potatoes and beats into the ditches they were working.
Everything worked out fine, every time I shifted my weight a couple of
potatoes and beats rolled down the ditch. What I did not count that I
nearly lost more than I intended to loose. I was not rushing myself to go
back because the Captain was out riding and I picked up a smaller load
because I felt that the horse was tired. Everything would have been all
right if would have gone ridding but he did not. “Where were you and how
come the load is so sparse?” The Captain in a very settled voice asked. I
told what I prepared to say about the shift but he did not buy it. He took
me into the shed and told me to bend over. “ I want you to learn to how to
count starting now count. With the horse whip he started to whip me, one,
two, three and so on till I came to fifteen at that point he kicked with his
ridding boot in my behind and I fell flat on my face. Well, I guess that my
profession as a pig farmer is over. I did not understand I ached but it was
not as painful as it should have been.
How many did he give you; they all wanted to know, “fifteen
“ I replied, and to prove it I removed my shirt. “ All we see are some red
marks, he certainly did not hit you too hard” they said. I was surprised
myself.
Next day I reported back to my station like nothing did
happened.
The cold weather sat in and certainly the winter snow will
soon follow. We all shuddered when the first snow fell knowing what to
expect. Some of the boys came back from work; they could not open up their
hands from the cold frosty water trying to retrieve fish from drained lake.
Winter was never a friend to us, all it meant that we now he had to endure
some more pain.
We heard that the crematorium and the gas chamber were blown
up. What a pity that it did not happen before we came
Pretty soon Christmas will be here and maybe will get some
extra food. We all feel that the war is coming to an end, but how many more
lives are going to loose? It is Christmas evening and some of the
none-Jewish inmates are singing some Christmas carols. We all felt the
holiday spirit taking over the block. Some times before the light were shut
the young SS Office came in, we all jumped off to our feet and stood at
attention. He called us to get close together. “I came to wish you all a
happy Christmas and I hope that the next year you all will be free and I
mean all of you. I want to shake your hand and wish you also a happy New
Year. We were astounded to hear those words from a German SS officer. Came
New Year morning about fifty of our inmates were selected, including yours
truly to go to the female camp. We did not know what to expect but we
washed and wanted to look as presentable as we could. They escorted us to a
hall and there were women as nervous as we were waiting for us. In front of
the female line there was standing a tall SS woman, “You are going to dance
but don’t get to close” the SS woman in a cordially voice said. At that
point a man started to play the piano and slowly the men stated to drift
over to the female inmates. I was standing on the side, I did not know how
to dance, and I was to shy to hold a woman next to me. Every once in a
while a man got a little too close to his female companion the SS woman used
to tap the man on his head. I felt that tears were coming to my eyes what a
horrible site this was, two zombies looking at each other with a far away
look; how the past used to be. At the end we all stopped dancing and to
listen to some renderings from Mozart and Bach, and ending with a song which
I will never forget “ Mir Fahren cu America.” (We are going to America) A
lot did I know that his prediction would come to me?
Fifteen days later as the Russian’s were approaching
Auschwitz was disbanded and we marched towards Germany.
Epilogue:
If I gave anybody a mistaken an idea that my time in
Auschwitz was a bed of roses, it is certainly mistaken. There was not a moment
that I forgot who I am and what I meant to them. I was lucky to be in the
right place in the right time. There was always the fear and remembering
losing within one blink of eye my mother and my siblings. Through my luck
I was able to help to share some of food my food with Adek and some other.
In the story of “The Ray of Hope” I am continuing the march and riding open
train in mid-winter to Buchenwald, Rhemsdorf, and finally to be liberated on
May 8th, 1945 in Rhemsdorf.
Victor Breitburg
Levittown, New York
E-mail:
victorsb@aol.com
Also by Victor Breitburg:
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