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updated: September, 01 2005 15:09 |
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Working conditions Every morning my father had to go to work, but my mother, having four small children at her charge, was exempted. They had to form up in blocks five rows deep, and stand at attention, in order to be counted. After every one was accounted for, they were marched off through the gate to work. There were SS- women standing there with huge dogs on a leash. The dogs were housed in a kennel near the bath-house, which was quite a distance from our part of the camp. Once, when going there, I wanted to see them from near, but the soldier, who was guarding, explained, that they were very dangerous, because they were taught to bite. The inmate, who called out the pace, was an illiterate thug, who was despised by Jews and Germans alike. Not knowing German, instead of calling: "Links, links, links, zwei, drei, vier", he used to call: "Lecks, lecks, lecks, zwo, drei, vier". "Zwo" is bavarian dialect. When the Jews passed the gate, where the SS were watching, he shouted the order, to remove headgear: "Mützen ab!" and after that again: "Mützen auf". On Saturday, they added a special torture before being marched to work: Parade ground exercise. They were marched like soldiers on a parade. The idiot, who shouted the orders, didn't know, which side was right and which left. So one day, when the column was marching towards a corner, with barbed wire ahead and a wall to their left, he called out: "Links ab!". Obediently, they marched into the wall, while even the Germans laughed hilariously. At one stage, my father z"l was working in the shoe-tent, where tens of thousands of shoes from the poor victims of Auschwitz were carefully cut apart. The worn soles were separated from the uppers, which were to be reused. It was hard work, done with a very sharp blade. One had to work fast and talking was forbidden. Once my father dropped his knife and it cut his thigh. He received a beating for sabotaging the work. There were cases of special punishment being dealt out, though I do not remember about specific facts. Not exceptional was the collective punishment of standing at attention for several hours after roll-call. Even women and little children were subjected to this, as I experienced. Standing at the fence, was also a terrible punishment. After coming back from work, people were retained to stand at attention in full sight of the guard in the watch-tower. They would not only lose their lunch, but were also deprived of water, while standing in the broiling sun or freezing in below- zero temperatures. Someone seen moving would be shot. But one Shabbos, R. Mordechai Emanuel Hy"d managed to daven mincha at the fence and say Kedusha with the minyan Yidden who had to stand there with him. And sometimes people were forced to stand up to their necks in the latrine. During the winter 1944-1945 my father z"l had to work in the forest, in a tempera- ture well below zero. They had to dig out the truncs, that were left in the ground after the trees were cut. The earth was frozen and even in nice weather it would have been a strenous job for these starved skeletons. But in this forbidding weather even a healthy man would have found it an impossible task. The soldier, who was guarding them, grew indignant with the lack of progress and the inefficient way, in which he considered, that my father wielded the pick and snatched it from his hands and hit him in the head. It struck him in the face, broke his glasses and knocked him unconscious. Since the soldier was not an SS, he was horrified at what he had done to a poor defenceless man, and he kneeled down, washed his face with snow and wiped it with his handkerchief. My father z"l was carried back to camp and the doctor diagnosed concussion. He ordered a three days' bedrest. But the next day, my father was sitting sunning himself on a bench. He declared: "If one stays in bed for three days, one doesn't get up anymore!" Kol Nidrei We used to be taken to the bath-house from time to time. I cannot recall, if there was any regularity to it. Perhaps in the beginning it was every Tuesday. Since I was only five years old, I went with the women. We had to undress in the hall, hanging our clothes on racks, that were moved into some kind of cabinets, where they were deloused, I think just by steam. We were allotted just a few minutes to wash and someone called: "Noch zwei Minuten!", so we had to wash the soap off quickly, before the water was turned off. When we came back to the hall, the clothes were nice and warm. But soon, we were taught German efficiency. We had to stand and wait, until the clothes were cold and damp, while we were not allowed to touch a towel. It must have taken about half an hour, enough for weak people, to catch pneumonia in the cold. Once we were called up, in the evening, to assemble on the Appell-Platz. First we stood, then we sat and finally we lay down, waiting for them to decide. We had to go to the bath-house! And it was Yom Kippur night! On Yom Kippur, one must neither eat, nor drink, nor touch water. The Germans were well versed with the Jewish calendar and the Jewish customs. Meanwhile, search-parties were combing the barracks for absentees. At one hour past midnight, my mother decided, that she had enough of it and that, with four children, she was exempt. We went back to the barrack. When we entered it on one side, the search-party just left through the other door. A minute later we were sound asleep. | ||
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Once the luxuries were finished, we lived on bread and a bowl of something, that some called soup. The bread contained certainly only a small amount of wheat flour. Part of it, we thought to be sawdust. The soup was mainly water, with some fat added. I am not sure, whether is was more like shoe-polish or rather lard, in order to make in treife. It did help to give us diarrhea. There were some cubes of kohlrabi in it, which had not been cleaned and had even worms in it. Sometimes, one was lucky enough to find a piece of real potato. At one time, we were living next to a Bubbe with two grand-children, Sari and Laci. Sari used to go early to get the soup and got the water from the top. The Bubbe used to stir the bowl and exclaim: "Mit amohl nicht ein Kartoffel is drin" ("Not even one piece of patato is in it!"). I didn't understand it, because it was in yiddish, but it stayed with me till I did. After we used to receive 5 cm of bread each a day, it was reduced to 4 cm a day. Later it was reduced to a loaf each per week. It arrived so hot from the bakery on Saturday, one had to take care, not to get scalded. After lights went off, the poor young men, who could not resist the temptation of the delightful smell of fresh bread, were borrowing knives from each other to cut another slice of bread, and another, until they had nothing left for the whole week. For that reason my mother used to keep my father's portion with her, and also in order to give him a double portion, which she achieved, by diminishing slightly our portions. Once my father was not well and could not get up to get his loaf. So he asked a friend in his barrack, to get him his loaf, too. He put it under whatever he had to put his head on. (I doubt, that he had a pillow). This time, my father weakened even more by his affliction, could not resist and decided to have "just one slice". In the morning, he was embarrassed to bring only half a loaf to my mother and wrapped it in his towel. As he came to our barrack, my mother z"l was not there, but he was greeted by Binyomin. "Hi, dad! What have you got there?" "Nothing. Where's Mom?" "She's just gone ... (wherever). But what've you got in your towel?" "Nothing". "Yes, I see you've got something". "It's my bread." "What bread? From where have you got bread?" "Well, I asked someone to get me my bread." "But I went to get your portion yesterday, as you were in bed!" The starvation diet and the general sufferings took their toll. I saw scores of people, whom I had known intimately, die before my very eyes. As a boy of six, I could not cope with this reality and my mind took the only way out: dissociation. I was walking around in my payamas, (our only garb), my hands tucked in the trousers, holding them up and holding my wobbly belly, oblivious of everything. Each day, my father was wondering, if it was not my last and if he would see his little boy alive to-morrow. One day I told him, that he could have my food, as I would stay hungry anyway. The Seider Shortly before Pesach, some flour was distributed for children up to the age of five. That meant, that we received some on behalf of Channa. But since the amount was practically too little for any purpose, my father told Mother to guard it. When Pesach appr- oached, my father remembered the flour and he wanted to celebrate the Seider and bake Matzos. We had no oven, neither
At seven p.m. lights were off, still before the feast commenced. But my resourceful brother Binyomin found some candlestumps and so we had light, matzes and a Haggada. My father had been used to a real festive Seider, but in the circumstances it was a royal treat. Though Maror, bitterness, we had in abundance, there was no wine, of course, nor any of the other ingredients, so Father had to say the Kiddush over the matzes. The seider started and a hush fell over the barrack. Everyone was listening and when he said the refrain: "Ilu hotzionu mimizraim", all chorused: "Dayenu", in unison and we felt it as a miracle. At the end of the Seider we said: "Loshono habo biYrusholaim" and Father, brokenhearted as he was about our situation, just a step from death, led us into a enthusiastic dance, around the stool, on which the candle was burning, singing: "Next year in Jerusalem!" These moments were my spiritual salvation, since this exalted feeling imbued me with new life and I, too, joined the singers and could accept this kind of reality. My mother, seeing me waking up from the stupor, that had held me for months, encouraged me and taught me to sing "Echod mi yodea". I kept repeating it, until I had taught Binyomin, too, for it made me feel human again. This Seider was the salvation for our family, since each of us felt in these exalted moments, in spite of our low ebb, both physically and emotionally, that we were still proud Jews, children of the Almighty. When Mummy saw Dad dancing with such feeling, she said to Binyomin: "Now I am sure, that he will survive!" And indeed, we were destined to leave this valley of death together. Glossary
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(to be continued) Look for the next installment! |
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