Kanada (7 page)

Monday, July 3, 1944 –
Tuesday, July 4, 1944

T
he
SS
herded us to the right, toward a building about a hundred meters away. We passed an inmate pushing a cart piled high with dead bodies. Bile rose in my throat.

“What
is
going on here? Grandmama was right. We
are
in hell!”

Agi did not reply, but the man with the cart must have heard me. He stopped and turned to us, his feverish eyes boring into my face. “See there?” he cackled in Hungarian, pointing to the chimneys in the distance. “Your families are going up in smoke! There goes your mama and your papa! Be careful or they'll get you too!”

We stared after him as he was swallowed by the crowd.

“He must be crazy!” Agi said. “What
is
he talking about?”

I had no answers.

We continued on for another fifty meters before stopping in front of the building where some men and women in striped clothing waited with large shears in their hands. The
SS
ordered us to undress, put our shoes at the side of the building, and add our clothes to a small mountain of garments piled next to the shoes. A few girls began to weep and tried to cover their nakedness with their hands. I felt nothing. It was as if everything was happening to somebody else, not to me. I just stood there, as if I were watching the plot of a bizarre movie unfolding before my eyes. I looked on calmly as the dark hair of a girl in the film dropped to the ground. The wailing of the women around me was muted in my ears, as if the sound were coming through a long tunnel. I didn't recognize the weeping stranger with a shorn blond head clinging to my arm.

Oh, Jutka, what is happening to us?” she cried. It was Agi.

Then we were led into the bathhouse. The ceiling of the large hall was dotted with shower heads. Icy water began pouring out of them, but I barely felt the stinging cold beating down on me.

We left the shower room, naked, our bodies still dripping with water. The
SS
ordered us to run past a pile of dirty, ragged striped uniforms. A prisoner standing beside the pile threw a striped skirt, a tattered shirt, and a pair of men's shoes at me. I was lucky. The clothing fit, and the shoes were only slightly large. Agi's uniform was several sizes
too small for her, and her shoes were wooden. She was able to trade her uniform for a larger one, but nobody would exchange her clogs for shoes.

Night was falling by the time we were marched at gunpoint to the wooden barracks behind the barbed-wire fence. Agi and I clung to each other, determined to stay together. The long line of exhausted women was eerily quiet, until a whisper traveled through the crowd like wildfire through dry prairie grass. “Don't touch the fence! It's electrified!” Only then did I notice the white posters of skulls hanging on the fence.

The guards used their truncheons and whips to push and shove groups of women inside each building. Finally, it was our turn.

“They must think that we're animals! This is no better than a stable!” she said.

The cavernous room was dimly lit by skylights. Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw wooden rafters and an earth floor. On either side of the room were long lines of three-tiered bunk beds made of rough wood. Each bed frame was covered by a piece of plywood on which rested a filthy straw-filled burlap bag.

A young blond woman with the face of an angel ordered us to choose beds. She was wearing a striped uniform with a green triangle on her shirt. “Los! Los!” she cried harshly, waving her rubber stick. Within minutes, a thousand women were packed into the bunks. There were eight
prisoners per bed, which was only meant for two. Elbows jabbed elbows, knees knocked knees, eliciting angry protests at the forced intimacy.

Agi and I held on to each other silently. There was nothing to say. We could hear the buzz of soft voices as the women tried to make themselves comfortable.

“Haltet die Klappe! Shut up!” cried the blond woman with the green triangle. She spoke in Hungarian. “I am your Kapo. Listen to me carefully. You're in Auschwitz-Birkenau. This is not a sanatorium! You are in a Vernichtungslager! You are Häftlings, prisoners. You will do exactly as you are told or you'll pay the consequences for your actions! Anybody who disobeys will go straight to the ovens! Understood?” Silence. “Now, all of you outside! Line up in rows of five!”

I did not think. I did not question. Neither did Agi or any of the others. We scrambled back down. Each of us was given a rusty metal bowl and a spoon. Another line-up followed the first. A prisoner standing by a black metal cauldron dished thin soup into my bowl. A piece of turnip, the type farmers used to feed their cattle, floated on top of the murky liquid. The brew gave off a putrid odor that turned my stomach.

“I can't drink this slop! It'll make me vomit. I'm going to dump it.”

“Don't you dare!” Agi grabbed my wrist. “We haven't eaten for days. You'll get sick and weak if you don't eat.”

She didn't let go of me until I held my nose and poured the soup down my throat the way I used to take the medicine the doctor prescribed whenever I was sick back home.

We woke at dawn the next morning to the barking of the dogs and the curses of the Kapo.

Agi and I were on the top level of our three-tiered bunk sleeping with six strangers. We climbed down, our hands and feet full of pins and needles. We straightened our clothing as best we could. We weren't allowed to wash. Nor were we allowed to go to the latrines before we were driven outside. The Kapo's baton and the ss's truncheons and the threat of their boots hurried us along.

“Line up! Rows of five!” shouted the Kapo.

Agi and I stood side by side, droplets in a sea of prisoners. To my left was a small woman with a gentle face.

“My name is Eva Foldes,” she said. “I am from Szombathely. I've been here for a month already.”

I introduced myself. “Do you know where they took our parents? I want to find my mother and grandmother.”

The woman seemed reluctant to reply. “I heard that the buildings with the chimneys … no, no. It's not worth repeating such nonsense.”

“Please tell me what you heard! Not knowing is the worst of all.”

“I was told that the people chosen to go left by Dr. Mengele after we got off the train –”

“Dr. Mengele?”

“He was the
SS
officer on the unloading ramp. He was the man who told us which way to go.”

“He sent my mama and grandmama to the left. Where were they taken?”

She didn't answer for a long time, then pointed to the dark smoke belching from the tall chimneys behind us. “There is your family,” she said so quietly that I had to strain to hear. “The Germans gassed them, then burned their bodies. The buildings with the chimneys are crematoria.”

“I don't believe you!”

She hung her head. “It's true.”

There was a sudden roaring in my ears. Spots appeared in front of my eyes. I opened my lips to scream, but Eva clamped her hand over my mouth.

“Don't be foolish!” she whispered. “If you call attention to yourself, they'll kill you!” She leaned over and caught hold of Agi's sleeve. “Your friend needs you!”

I felt myself slumping to the ground, but Agi and Eva grabbed my arms and held me up.

“They murdered our mamas and my grandmama!” My voice was a stranger's.

Agi's face blanched. “Dear God,” she cried. “It can't be!”

“Agi, it must be true. Remember the bodies on the cart and what the man pushing it told us? Eva is saying they
gas
them and
burn
them.” I was silenced by the bite of the Kapo's baton on my shoulders.

“Schweig, Jude!” It was the roar of a beast.

I stared past him, forcing myself to remain expressionless.

“So you think that you're better than me, Miss High-and-Mighty? You'll come off your throne soon enough!” the Kapo howled, marking each word with a blow of her baton to my head.

I bit my lip, determined not to let her see me cry, and tried to shield myself with my arms.

Fortunately, one of the
SS
called her and she left. Eva squeezed my hand.

“Take a deep breath. It helps with the pain.”

The Kapo returned with the prisoner chosen by the
SS
to be the Blockälteste. The German officers themselves, the Kapo, and the Blockälteste marched between the rows and rows of exhausted and hungry women, counting and recounting the number of prisoners present. With each passing moment, the Kapo became more alarmed. Sweat poured from her brow. Her baton played feverishly on our shoulders.

We stood, hour after hour, prey to fear, absorbed in grief. Some women collapsed. Others were held up by their neighbors. My whole being was focused on staying on my feet. I couldn't even grieve for Mama and Grandmama, walking straight to their deaths. I concentrated all of my energy upon my own survival. Nothing else mattered.

There was a sudden shout from the block. “We found her!” Then gunfire.

We were dismissed.

“This can't be happening. It must be a nightmare!” Agi's voice was no more than a whisper. “We'll wake up tomorrow and it'll all be over.”

Wednesday, July 5, 1944 –
Wednesday, July 12, 1944

T
he nightmare did not end. We lined up again. This time it was for a breakfast of black coffee. We drank it squat-ting on the ground.

Agi made a face. “It's so bitter. It must have been brewed from weeds.” But, like me, she drained her bowl. The tepid liquid soothed the hunger cramping my stomach.

The Kapo appeared. She separated the women in the block into groups of one hundred. I breathed a sigh of relief that Agi and Eva were with me. We were marched to the west end of the Lager. A huge pile of white bricks was piled beside the electric fence. The Kapo ordered us to move the bricks, two at a time, to the east end of the Lager, three or four hundred meters away. At first, I was quick and efficient, but as the summer sun rose in the sky, I became hot and
thirsty. Sweat ran down my face and back. The bricks seemed to weigh more with each trip. My steps slowed until I was dragging myself across the void. I passed Agi and Eva. They were pale and moved heavily.

“I can't go on! I have to sit down,” said Agi.

“If you sit, they'll shoot you!” cried Eva.

We toiled on. The summer sun was reaching its summit. I couldn't bear it any longer.

“I'll ask the Kapo's permission to get a drink,” I told Eva.

“You can't! The water is infected. It'll make you sick,” she said. “Courage. It's almost noon. We'll get soup. It'll quench your thirst.”

The soup was lukewarm and watery and gave off a rancid odor, but it tasted better in my mouth than anything I had ever drunk before. After I drained my bowl, I was able to start working again.

The day seemed endless. The bricks in my arms became heavier and heavier, until I feared that their tremendous weight would make me sink into the ground and disappear. Silently, we trudged back and forth, back and forth, like clumsy beasts of burden, stumbling, dragging our feet. Mercifully, the sun went behind a gray cloud. I had a fanciful thought that it was hiding its shamed face. Hours later, the mountain of stone that had stood in the west end of the Lager stood in the east end.

Three hours of Appell, “lining up to be counted,” followed, and I learned that I was stronger than I had thought possible. Sheer will power kept me on my feet. Then came
dinner – a small piece of black bread and a tiny square of margarine. The bread tasted like sawdust. I was careful to bend down and pick up each and every crumb that dropped to the ground.

Finally, it was bedtime. One of the inmates showed me how to pick lice off my clothes and body. Agi and I examined each other carefully. No revolting critters were feasting on us.

“Nothing!” I crowed in relief.

“You mean ‘not yet!’ Give yourselves a few days. It can't be avoided. We are all infested.” A cadaverous woman clomped over in wooden clogs like the ones Agi was wearing. She held out her hand. “Sari Lusztig,” she said, “from Szombathely. Eva and I came on the same transport.”

“I am Jutka Weltner from Papa. We arrived two days ago.”

“Ah! Newcomers to our resort! Enjoying yourselves?” she said. “You can't believe what you're seeing, can you? You tell yourselves that you're dreaming, don't you? Well, you're not! You are very much awake. The longer you're here, the more you will realize that this is a perverted world. Your worst nightmares have come to life. Believe the unbelievable!”

“Stop it, Sari! Stop it!” Eva had joined us. “You're frightening them. What's to be gained by that?”

Sari slunk off to her bunk.

The doors of the barracks flew open and the Blockälteste and the Kapo burst in.

“Blocksperre! Blocksperre!” they yelled.

“They're shutting down our block! None of us is allowed to leave the barracks, not even to go to the latrines,” explained Eva.

“Why not?” asked Agi.

“I don't know,” said Eva.

Soon we had the answer. The Czech family camp was located next to our Lager. We were forbidden from looking outside, but a terrible din filtered through the walls. Men and women were wailing, children were crying. We could hear people begging in Czech and in German. We listened to their suffering in silence. A Häftling asked the Kapo what was happening.

“They are going to the ovens!” She laughed. “Listen care-fully! You might be next!”

Abruptly, the cries were replaced by singing. The lovely melody of the Czech national anthem and then of the “Hatikva” rose a thousand strong. Then the loud blast of truck engines revving up. The singing became fainter and fainter, until it could no longer be heard. I began to weep.

I had a dream that night a dream I had had before. I was sitting in a sleigh pulled by beautiful white horses across a field of blinding snow. Mama and Grandmama were sitting beside me. Papa and Dezso were in the front, hanging on to the reins. Once again we passed the cowboy who tipped his hat and the Indian chief with the headdress the colors of the rainbow. Once again we came upon Miri, Klari, and Tamas, who were beckoning us to stop. Once again I saw
tall buildings on the horizon. Once again an arm shook me back to wakefulness. This time, the arm belonged to Agi. It was time for Appell once again.

Appell was followed by breakfast. We were just finishing the acrid coffee when the Kapo appeared.

“It's time for you bitches to get back to work!” She swished her baton. With the aid of her German masters, she drove us back to the stone mountain. She pointed to the bricks, her beautiful face distorted. “You lazy good-for-nothings move the bricks, two at a time, across the Lager to the west corner by the fence!”

“But yesterday we carried them here from that exact spot,” said Agi. “It doesn't make sen –”

The Kapo's baton rang as it met Agi's head. She fell to her knees in the dirt.

“Idiot!” the Kapo roared. “Do you want to go to the ovens?”

“No, Kapo,” Agi mumbled as the blood pouring from her nose mixed with the tears coursing down her face. She spat out a tooth and smeared her face as she tried to wipe herself clean with her sleeve. Eva and I helped her up.

“They make us work all day just to move a pile of bricks back and forth, for no reason at all … They are mad! And evil!” I said to Eva as we lined up for Appell again at the end of the day.

“You're learning quickly.”

Day followed day. Up at five, hours of Appell followed by black coffee. Some days we cleaned the latrines, a long row of communal seats. Other days we lay around our bunk, doing nothing. I soon learned that any job was preferable to idleness. Work kept you from thinking. Lunch was a watery foul soup. Dusk was marked by hours and hours of Appell followed by a slice of dark bread and, occasionally, a small chunk of margarine. Then came restless, hot, overcrowded sleep, where the jerk of an elbow or the twitch of a foot resulted in bitter complaints from the person next to you. As I lay on the burlap mattress, wedged between Agi and Eva, I pleaded with God:
Please, God! Let me wake up in my own bed at home!
In the morning, as soon as I opened my eyes, I realized that God was not listening.