Quoted from introduction, by publisher:-
"When Edith Hofmann sat down to write this book, she was a 19-year-old coming to terms with the fact of her own survival. It is a story which describes a struggle; the struggle to come to terms with a haunting past, the struggle to survive, and the struggle to unburden a broken heart. It also embodies a struggle to form, in language, that which at times all but defies linguistic form. When Hofmann started writing this book she had only been speaking English for two years, and yet she wanted to convey her experiences, in English, to those with whom she had made her home.
"The cruel reality was that no one really wanted to hear. She poured out her soul, only to be told that ‘no one was interested in the war any more’. This was 1950. ... Her story is a novel, but it certainly is not a fiction. Scared for her own safety, Hofmann chose to write in the third person rather than pen a memoir. Every page is bound up with the intricate details of her life, those whom she loved, and those whom she lost; the echoes of those terrible years, and the memory they imposed. ... "
This work, while written in form of a novel, is autobiographical, and differs from many other accounts in one major aspect. Most other holocaust memoirs are necessarily about either concentration camps and life therein, or hiding, even hiding in plain sight. This one is about life in a small town Polish ghetto where the protagonist and her people have been transported from Prague where they had a middle class life. As such, there is alienation and loneliness even within the Jewish ghetto, what with change of country and language, and the difference of a cosmopolitan capital vs a backwoods small town.
Moreover, while over halfway through when allies are already on Italian peninsula and Russian forces are proceeding West and American planes are bombing Germany - which meant daylight raids, accompanied by the British nightly ones - the protagonist and her people, those not yet dead or carted away, are still in the small town ghetto.
The small town is Lodz, not too far from various concentration camps including Auschwitz. They don't know about them, but a moderately well informed reader does, filling one with an anxiety, anticipation of dread as one reads.
And then it arrives, the incredible moment when the ghetto is emptied and people taken to Auschwitz, even as allied forces are closing in from East, West and South- because the Nazi regime and their leader cared more about finishing genocide than about Germany or German people or their lives or future.
As such, it's not so much a memoir as much as a first hand account of the times written by a young survivor, of not just Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen but also a work camp in forests of Silesia, and a death march from Silesia to Bavaria before transport to the death camp at Bergen-Belsen, written up while it was all still fresh - in fact some of it was written while some of the last parts were happening - unlike other memoirs written by survivors a half century later when they could safely face it all, having had a life post holocaust.
................................................................................................
"The place was Prague. The time was five o’clock in the morning on a misty October day in the year of 1941. The streets were quiet, the city still asleep. The capital’s picturesque buildings and its hundred spires rearing up proudly towards the sky, were surrounded by peace and darkness, unaware of the thousand souls for whom this hour meant the beginning of a journey into the unknown. Even the Germans who have changed the gay and prosperous city into a place of fear and hatred, were still tucked under their heavy feather beds, dreaming of a greater Reich.
"The winter had come in exceptionally early and the north wind that had been blowing all through the night was bringing with it gusts of sleet and snow. A bird rising to great height could have perceived a thousand little specks weighed down by heavy loads, struggling against the weather and darkness, making their way from all corners of the city to a strange meeting place."
"The bitter crying of children pierced the air. They were uncomfortable and cold and scared of the German officers who were marching stiffly up and down the line, securing order by waving their whips in front of people’s eyes, and bellowing in their faces every time anything occurred that did not fall in with their pattern of discipline."
"Most of the older boys and girls were imbued with an adventurous spirit, and an eager gleam, mixed with curiosity, shone forth from their eyes. They were going to see the world! Their excitement, innocence and good humour brought tears to the eyes of many mothers whose hearts were charged with foreboding.
"Step by step the thousand people moved slowly down the gentle slope towards the big gate – towards a future which all of them were to share. It was the third transport from Prague – the so-called ‘intelligentsia transport’, because most family men had academic backgrounds. The transport before them, in whose footsteps they were following, now bore the reputation of being the ‘millionaires’, just as the first transport that had left Prague a fortnight earlier, comprised one thousand of the poorer Jews who had settled in the young nation’s capital."
"“From now on you can forget your names and call yourselves 118, 119, and 120. Remember that! Your places and your luggage will be marked likewise. Is that clear?”"
"The three days before their departure passed fairly peacefully. They had three meals a day; breakfast that consisted of coffee and rolls, a main meal and a snack in the evening."
"Surprisingly, people slept well during the nights, and the silence was broken only by snores, some of them very violent, and here and there by a crying child."
"A special train stood waiting for them. The thousand people were divided into groups of fifty and then, with a guard in the lead, were marched off to their appointed places. Fifty to a waggon, and every place was marked by the prisoner’s number. On each seat lay a little parcel containing a bun, a piece of cheese and dried prunes. The seats were wooden, the windows were bordered by black-out curtains.
"After a quarter of an hour’s commotion the locks of the doors clicked from outside, and then everything was still. For a whole hour the train stood waiting in the station."
"The cruel reality was that no one really wanted to hear. She poured out her soul, only to be told that ‘no one was interested in the war any more’. This was 1950. ... Her story is a novel, but it certainly is not a fiction. Scared for her own safety, Hofmann chose to write in the third person rather than pen a memoir. Every page is bound up with the intricate details of her life, those whom she loved, and those whom she lost; the echoes of those terrible years, and the memory they imposed. ... "
................................................................................................
This work, while written in form of a novel, is autobiographical, and differs from many other accounts in one major aspect. Most other holocaust memoirs are necessarily about either concentration camps and life therein, or hiding, even hiding in plain sight. This one is about life in a small town Polish ghetto where the protagonist and her people have been transported from Prague where they had a middle class life. As such, there is alienation and loneliness even within the Jewish ghetto, what with change of country and language, and the difference of a cosmopolitan capital vs a backwoods small town.
Moreover, while over halfway through when allies are already on Italian peninsula and Russian forces are proceeding West and American planes are bombing Germany - which meant daylight raids, accompanied by the British nightly ones - the protagonist and her people, those not yet dead or carted away, are still in the small town ghetto.
The small town is Lodz, not too far from various concentration camps including Auschwitz. They don't know about them, but a moderately well informed reader does, filling one with an anxiety, anticipation of dread as one reads.
And then it arrives, the incredible moment when the ghetto is emptied and people taken to Auschwitz, even as allied forces are closing in from East, West and South- because the Nazi regime and their leader cared more about finishing genocide than about Germany or German people or their lives or future.
As such, it's not so much a memoir as much as a first hand account of the times written by a young survivor, of not just Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen but also a work camp in forests of Silesia, and a death march from Silesia to Bavaria before transport to the death camp at Bergen-Belsen, written up while it was all still fresh - in fact some of it was written while some of the last parts were happening - unlike other memoirs written by survivors a half century later when they could safely face it all, having had a life post holocaust.
................................................................................................
"The place was Prague. The time was five o’clock in the morning on a misty October day in the year of 1941. The streets were quiet, the city still asleep. The capital’s picturesque buildings and its hundred spires rearing up proudly towards the sky, were surrounded by peace and darkness, unaware of the thousand souls for whom this hour meant the beginning of a journey into the unknown. Even the Germans who have changed the gay and prosperous city into a place of fear and hatred, were still tucked under their heavy feather beds, dreaming of a greater Reich.
"The winter had come in exceptionally early and the north wind that had been blowing all through the night was bringing with it gusts of sleet and snow. A bird rising to great height could have perceived a thousand little specks weighed down by heavy loads, struggling against the weather and darkness, making their way from all corners of the city to a strange meeting place."
"The bitter crying of children pierced the air. They were uncomfortable and cold and scared of the German officers who were marching stiffly up and down the line, securing order by waving their whips in front of people’s eyes, and bellowing in their faces every time anything occurred that did not fall in with their pattern of discipline."
"Most of the older boys and girls were imbued with an adventurous spirit, and an eager gleam, mixed with curiosity, shone forth from their eyes. They were going to see the world! Their excitement, innocence and good humour brought tears to the eyes of many mothers whose hearts were charged with foreboding.
"Step by step the thousand people moved slowly down the gentle slope towards the big gate – towards a future which all of them were to share. It was the third transport from Prague – the so-called ‘intelligentsia transport’, because most family men had academic backgrounds. The transport before them, in whose footsteps they were following, now bore the reputation of being the ‘millionaires’, just as the first transport that had left Prague a fortnight earlier, comprised one thousand of the poorer Jews who had settled in the young nation’s capital."
"“From now on you can forget your names and call yourselves 118, 119, and 120. Remember that! Your places and your luggage will be marked likewise. Is that clear?”"
"The three days before their departure passed fairly peacefully. They had three meals a day; breakfast that consisted of coffee and rolls, a main meal and a snack in the evening."
"Surprisingly, people slept well during the nights, and the silence was broken only by snores, some of them very violent, and here and there by a crying child."
"A special train stood waiting for them. The thousand people were divided into groups of fifty and then, with a guard in the lead, were marched off to their appointed places. Fifty to a waggon, and every place was marked by the prisoner’s number. On each seat lay a little parcel containing a bun, a piece of cheese and dried prunes. The seats were wooden, the windows were bordered by black-out curtains.
"After a quarter of an hour’s commotion the locks of the doors clicked from outside, and then everything was still. For a whole hour the train stood waiting in the station."
................................................................................................
They were taken to Katowiece to a ghetto, where they could see their future in faces of the residents who'd been starving and had only rags. Things got worse. Judith lost her parents one after another, chiefly due to starvation, and was depressed for a long time, until Michael Alexander brought her out of it with kindness and hope. She discovered his activity añd shared it, writing letters describing their realities, to be sent to people outside.
She'd found work in a children's factory.
"The factory was brightly lit and in every room a fire was burning in a cylindrical stove. The bell had not yet gone and the children were standing around it, warming their numb limbs. The heat did not spread much through the room. However, the temperature was a bearable 48° and in five hours’ time they were going to get hot soup.
"Some of the children were miserably dressed. Their bones stuck out and there was a pitiful expression on their faces. Judith herself had got much thinner during the past few weeks. As she looked round at the group of little figures, some of them not more than ten or eleven years old, a protective feeling gripped her. She was one of the oldest and strongest in that room and several months ago had been appointed their group leader. If the instructor was out of the room, she was responsible for order and work.
"There were eighteen of them altogether, eighteen individuals, each with a story to tell. Judith looked about her, wondering who was the next one to go. Some of them coughed badly, death looking out of their huge, deeply-set eyes. Four children had already died since the winter set in. One day they were at work; the next day they were dead. New children took their places and life went on as before.
"One teacher had died last week after having been ill for a fortnight. Another was in hospital with meningitis.
"Tuberculosis in the ghetto did not take long to kill the victim, sometimes several months, usually a few weeks, and very often a few days. It was caused more by conditions than by infection."
"The fate of the little children who were under her care in the factory had taken a prominent part in her mind. She was able to forget them once she left the factory and became engrossed in her own everyday struggles, but she could not escape their wretchedness, their sad eyes and their tattered clothes, while she was at work. Her heart softened towards these small people who were alone in the world, forsaken by all kindness, love and humanity. She might have let things go another few days had not Mendel, Joseph’s brother, collapsed at work and later been sent home."
They were taken to Katowiece to a ghetto, where they could see their future in faces of the residents who'd been starving and had only rags. Things got worse. Judith lost her parents one after another, chiefly due to starvation, and was depressed for a long time, until Michael Alexander brought her out of it with kindness and hope. She discovered his activity añd shared it, writing letters describing their realities, to be sent to people outside.
................................................................................................
She'd found work in a children's factory.
"The factory was brightly lit and in every room a fire was burning in a cylindrical stove. The bell had not yet gone and the children were standing around it, warming their numb limbs. The heat did not spread much through the room. However, the temperature was a bearable 48° and in five hours’ time they were going to get hot soup.
"Some of the children were miserably dressed. Their bones stuck out and there was a pitiful expression on their faces. Judith herself had got much thinner during the past few weeks. As she looked round at the group of little figures, some of them not more than ten or eleven years old, a protective feeling gripped her. She was one of the oldest and strongest in that room and several months ago had been appointed their group leader. If the instructor was out of the room, she was responsible for order and work.
"There were eighteen of them altogether, eighteen individuals, each with a story to tell. Judith looked about her, wondering who was the next one to go. Some of them coughed badly, death looking out of their huge, deeply-set eyes. Four children had already died since the winter set in. One day they were at work; the next day they were dead. New children took their places and life went on as before.
"One teacher had died last week after having been ill for a fortnight. Another was in hospital with meningitis.
"Tuberculosis in the ghetto did not take long to kill the victim, sometimes several months, usually a few weeks, and very often a few days. It was caused more by conditions than by infection."
"The fate of the little children who were under her care in the factory had taken a prominent part in her mind. She was able to forget them once she left the factory and became engrossed in her own everyday struggles, but she could not escape their wretchedness, their sad eyes and their tattered clothes, while she was at work. Her heart softened towards these small people who were alone in the world, forsaken by all kindness, love and humanity. She might have let things go another few days had not Mendel, Joseph’s brother, collapsed at work and later been sent home."
................................................................................................
"The following few months were filled with hope, suffering, happiness, struggle and suspense. The struggle was never-ending, but the political situation and the springtime gave rise to a new, optimistic outlook on the affairs of the ghetto. Nobody knew where the news came from, but rumours spread rapidly, were often enlarged upon until they grew to gigantic proportions, but everyone was aware that just a small part of them could be taken seriously. Although people hoped, they had trained themselves not to anticipate anything. They would rather let themselves be pleasantly surprised than suffer terrible disappointment. On the other hand they believed that in every piece of news, however fantastic, there was at least a fraction of truth.
"Many people in the ghetto, fed on these hopes, would not admit it even to themselves.
"The Russians were fighting their way slowly towards the west – towards them. Berlin and other German towns were suffering from heavy bombardments. In March for the first time, Germany had been bombed by U.S. planes. The Allies were slowly gaining a foothold in Italy. Something was moving, something great and important was happening in the world beyond the wires. There was the burning question, of course, would the Germans let the prisoners live to see their great moment, or would they destroy them in the last minute. The latter course seemed more likely, though the eternal strife and the desire for survival buried deep in their hearts overcame such pessimistic speculation. In any case there was nothing much they could do except stand up to the desperate internal situation with a stronger will, and wait patiently for the future."
"Then one day a miracle happened – a parcel from Prague arrived. It was a new legal arrangement and Michael was among the first to receive one from a friend. ... "
There were more parcels, and although they could not eat as much as they would have liked, the effect on Judith’s body was remarkable. She gained strength rapidly and with the sunshine giving important vitamins, her temperature returned to normal. By the end of April she was back at work. Michael’s health also showed a vast improvement. Life and energy returned to him and he was able to concentrate much better on whatever he did."
"They were still hungry, but now it was just a normal hunger, not one that made them see black in front of their eyes, gave a cramp to their stomachs and caused them to feel that they were floating on air.
"By then the Russians had captured Odessa and Yalta."
"The month of May was sunny and everything looked better. Some vegetables and potatoes reached the ghetto. Then came June – the sixth day of June, and with it the invasion of Normandy by Allied troops from the West. It was hardly believable.
"Events began to move quickly. The Allied troops captured Rome. The Russians opened a summer offensive with an attack against the German line. They captured Vitebsk and later, at the beginning of July, Minsk and Vilna. They were advancing into Poland towards Warsaw, only eighty kilometres away from Lodz.
"The news must have penetrated into the ghetto through several sources for everyone knew about the great happenings. The atmosphere was charged with apprehension. Those who had an old battered map handy, looked up the routes by which the troops would be advancing on all sides. Great Germany was shrinking. The most exciting news was the forceful approach of the Eastern armies.
"Bialystok, Lublin and WARSAW!
"August 1944.
"Boom! Crash! Boom! Everyone’s ear in the ghetto was tuned to the most wonderful music and guessing its distance. Suddenly all the grim faces brightened up with happy expectation. The air shook with explosions which were only eighty kilometres away.
"Those who, until now, had taken all the news with a sceptical shrug of their shoulders, had no doubt left in their hearts. The fight for Warsaw was on! The ground trembled as in an earthquake. Two more days and everything might be over! At last all the hopes and dreams were within reach!
"The last fear that the Germans might evacuate the Jewish quarters had gone. If the Russians advanced at the same speed as they had done until now, they should be in Lodz in two or three days’ time. It was practically impossible to remove eighty thousand people in such a short time, unless they destroyed them by bombs, and they had to keep the bombs for more vital issues.
"The place was humming with victory. People’s backs straightened, the gloomy, heavy atmosphere that had oppressed them for so long, had melted, and one of joyous suspense took its place.
"Except for the guards at the bridge, no German was to be seen. The everyday routine and discipline were gone. Everyone took liberty and there was no one in authority to do anything about it. People gathered in the streets, formed little groups and discussed the situation. Suddenly friendly smiles appeared on their faces. They sang quietly. All were united to welcome their liberators. The ghetto, now basking in scorching sunshine, was a different place."
"The following few months were filled with hope, suffering, happiness, struggle and suspense. The struggle was never-ending, but the political situation and the springtime gave rise to a new, optimistic outlook on the affairs of the ghetto. Nobody knew where the news came from, but rumours spread rapidly, were often enlarged upon until they grew to gigantic proportions, but everyone was aware that just a small part of them could be taken seriously. Although people hoped, they had trained themselves not to anticipate anything. They would rather let themselves be pleasantly surprised than suffer terrible disappointment. On the other hand they believed that in every piece of news, however fantastic, there was at least a fraction of truth.
"Many people in the ghetto, fed on these hopes, would not admit it even to themselves.
"The Russians were fighting their way slowly towards the west – towards them. Berlin and other German towns were suffering from heavy bombardments. In March for the first time, Germany had been bombed by U.S. planes. The Allies were slowly gaining a foothold in Italy. Something was moving, something great and important was happening in the world beyond the wires. There was the burning question, of course, would the Germans let the prisoners live to see their great moment, or would they destroy them in the last minute. The latter course seemed more likely, though the eternal strife and the desire for survival buried deep in their hearts overcame such pessimistic speculation. In any case there was nothing much they could do except stand up to the desperate internal situation with a stronger will, and wait patiently for the future."
................................................................................................
"Then one day a miracle happened – a parcel from Prague arrived. It was a new legal arrangement and Michael was among the first to receive one from a friend. ... "
There were more parcels, and although they could not eat as much as they would have liked, the effect on Judith’s body was remarkable. She gained strength rapidly and with the sunshine giving important vitamins, her temperature returned to normal. By the end of April she was back at work. Michael’s health also showed a vast improvement. Life and energy returned to him and he was able to concentrate much better on whatever he did."
"They were still hungry, but now it was just a normal hunger, not one that made them see black in front of their eyes, gave a cramp to their stomachs and caused them to feel that they were floating on air.
"By then the Russians had captured Odessa and Yalta."
................................................................................................
"The month of May was sunny and everything looked better. Some vegetables and potatoes reached the ghetto. Then came June – the sixth day of June, and with it the invasion of Normandy by Allied troops from the West. It was hardly believable.
"Events began to move quickly. The Allied troops captured Rome. The Russians opened a summer offensive with an attack against the German line. They captured Vitebsk and later, at the beginning of July, Minsk and Vilna. They were advancing into Poland towards Warsaw, only eighty kilometres away from Lodz.
"The news must have penetrated into the ghetto through several sources for everyone knew about the great happenings. The atmosphere was charged with apprehension. Those who had an old battered map handy, looked up the routes by which the troops would be advancing on all sides. Great Germany was shrinking. The most exciting news was the forceful approach of the Eastern armies.
"Bialystok, Lublin and WARSAW!
"August 1944.
"Boom! Crash! Boom! Everyone’s ear in the ghetto was tuned to the most wonderful music and guessing its distance. Suddenly all the grim faces brightened up with happy expectation. The air shook with explosions which were only eighty kilometres away.
"Those who, until now, had taken all the news with a sceptical shrug of their shoulders, had no doubt left in their hearts. The fight for Warsaw was on! The ground trembled as in an earthquake. Two more days and everything might be over! At last all the hopes and dreams were within reach!
"The last fear that the Germans might evacuate the Jewish quarters had gone. If the Russians advanced at the same speed as they had done until now, they should be in Lodz in two or three days’ time. It was practically impossible to remove eighty thousand people in such a short time, unless they destroyed them by bombs, and they had to keep the bombs for more vital issues.
"The place was humming with victory. People’s backs straightened, the gloomy, heavy atmosphere that had oppressed them for so long, had melted, and one of joyous suspense took its place.
"Except for the guards at the bridge, no German was to be seen. The everyday routine and discipline were gone. Everyone took liberty and there was no one in authority to do anything about it. People gathered in the streets, formed little groups and discussed the situation. Suddenly friendly smiles appeared on their faces. They sang quietly. All were united to welcome their liberators. The ghetto, now basking in scorching sunshine, was a different place."
................................................................................................
"The battle for Warsaw was taking a little longer than they had hoped, but then, what did a few days matter after years of waiting? The sounds that were bringing freedom with them were always there, and as long as they could hear them, optimism glinted in their eyes. Political jokes raced through the ghetto, the poor Germans being the victims of their humour.
"One week passed and people began to get used to the idea of approaching liberty. Whereas at first it had all seemed like an incredible dream, it became more real now. The air never ceased to vibrate with the thunder of guns and within the ghetto everyone was his own master. “Perhaps tomorrow …” was the usual phrase, accompanied by a distant gaze. “Perhaps tomorrow …”
"The atmosphere built up to a climax."
"Then suddenly, as if a bomb had fallen into the midst of the rejoicing crowds, the dream was over. For a moment, frozen to the spot, speechless and trembling, with a hollow feeling in their stomachs, they gazed at the innumerable open lorries carrying troops of the German Police.
"They watched silently, paralyzed, crushed. The sadistic grinning faces of the Germans were like those of monsters.
"They should have known!
"There followed a few moments of panic. The streets were cleared of all Jews.
"Petrified with horror, people peered through the windows. In the deserted streets the lorries were slowly moving up and down. Like statues of pride, the Schu-Po men stood motionless upon them, spreading an atmosphere of deathly fear. Otherwise, there was silence.
"Terror crept into everyone’s heart.
"On each corner two or three lorries stopped, the tall men jumped off, the shining eagles on their helmets dazzling in the sun.
"It was about midday.
"Within minutes the blocks were surrounded by lines of men who knew no mercy.
"“Nobody must leave the house!” thundered from downstairs."
"At about three o’clock the first lorries arrived, overcrowded with people of all ages. They stood pressed against each other. The children were crying, the women were lamenting and some of the men were beating their fists against their heads or tearing their hair out. They passed underneath their window and headed in the direction of the railway station.
"The evacuation of the ghetto had begun!"
"The battle for Warsaw was taking a little longer than they had hoped, but then, what did a few days matter after years of waiting? The sounds that were bringing freedom with them were always there, and as long as they could hear them, optimism glinted in their eyes. Political jokes raced through the ghetto, the poor Germans being the victims of their humour.
"One week passed and people began to get used to the idea of approaching liberty. Whereas at first it had all seemed like an incredible dream, it became more real now. The air never ceased to vibrate with the thunder of guns and within the ghetto everyone was his own master. “Perhaps tomorrow …” was the usual phrase, accompanied by a distant gaze. “Perhaps tomorrow …”
"The atmosphere built up to a climax."
................................................................................................
"Then suddenly, as if a bomb had fallen into the midst of the rejoicing crowds, the dream was over. For a moment, frozen to the spot, speechless and trembling, with a hollow feeling in their stomachs, they gazed at the innumerable open lorries carrying troops of the German Police.
"They watched silently, paralyzed, crushed. The sadistic grinning faces of the Germans were like those of monsters.
"They should have known!
"There followed a few moments of panic. The streets were cleared of all Jews.
"Petrified with horror, people peered through the windows. In the deserted streets the lorries were slowly moving up and down. Like statues of pride, the Schu-Po men stood motionless upon them, spreading an atmosphere of deathly fear. Otherwise, there was silence.
"Terror crept into everyone’s heart.
"On each corner two or three lorries stopped, the tall men jumped off, the shining eagles on their helmets dazzling in the sun.
"It was about midday.
"Within minutes the blocks were surrounded by lines of men who knew no mercy.
"“Nobody must leave the house!” thundered from downstairs."
"At about three o’clock the first lorries arrived, overcrowded with people of all ages. They stood pressed against each other. The children were crying, the women were lamenting and some of the men were beating their fists against their heads or tearing their hair out. They passed underneath their window and headed in the direction of the railway station.
"The evacuation of the ghetto had begun!"
................................................................................................
"The Germans began to clear the far end of the ghetto first. It was the section across the bridge. There were eighty thousand inhabitants in the ghetto and about ten thousand could be dealt with in one day. That meant that the emptying of the Jewish quarters would take a week or so. There was still hope for some people. Eight days could be a long time in a critical situation. So many things could happen in eight days!
"In the evening the Schu-Po men disappeared from the streets, but the number of guards at the wires was trebled. There was no question of escape, no chance to hide anywhere. The Germans knew their job.
"All shops were closed, all rations cancelled. To succeed in hiding would mean to die of starvation in addition to other risks. It might take weeks before the Russians arrived. Nobody suspected, however, that the great leaders of a few nations had arranged for the Russian forces to stop at Warsaw for another six months."
"Outside the barred holes a strange world was spread in front of them. The hot sun was scorching the yellow sand that stretched for miles like a desert on which stood this incredible town that was no town at all. It was enclosed in barbed wires strewn with hundreds of wooden huts placed in rows and swarming with people who resembled human beings very little. They were all dressed in a sort of striped pyjamas. Their cheeks and temples were hollow; their heads were shaved! They dragged their feet behind them as they walked, apparently aimlessly, from place to place.
"There wasn’t a tree or plant in sight. The air was still and a deadly threat hung over the endless place.
"The train stopped, and a mixture of noises composed of sharp German commands, the howling of dogs and cracking of whips, filled the immediate surroundings. Within seconds the doors flew ajar, unbolted by skilful hands that had undoubtedly done such jobs many times before.
"An unearthly chaos followed. There was no time for the prisoners to think, no time to make decisions. The light that flowed into the dark interior of the waggons almost blinded them.
"“Get out! Get out! Hurry up! Quicker! Quicker!”
"Whips cracked, dogs barked. “Leave your luggage behind! Hurry! Hurry!”
"Those who stood at the back of the waggon managed to snatch their bread, or an object that was very precious to them and hide it in their clothes."
"This was Auschwitz, the concentration camp."
After having lived at Auschwitz for a while, Judith was picked among other young inmates for transport elsewhere.
"The forest stretched for miles, and it seemed as though the whole world was bedecked with trees. Having travelled like this for a while, somebody suddenly spied a building half hidden in the ground and camouflaged so as to look as if it were part of the forest. And then another one appeared, and another, and soon everyone realized that there was a whole town of them cunningly concealed from hostile eyes. Long pipes about fifteen feet from the ground connected one building with the other, letting forth humming sounds that filled the air. The trees, whose trunks had been made bare save for a cap of branches at the top, stood in straight lines, following the military pattern of their country.
"“Must be some factories.”
"“It couldn’t be anything else,” the girls guessed, pushing their way to the little windows.
"At about two o’clock the train slowed down and stopped. German guards who had accompanied them jumped from the train, shouted at each other from all sides, footsteps sounded along the gravel, and a little while later the sliding doors thundered open.
"“Everyone out!”
"“Into fives!”"
"The rest of the afternoon was their own. Judith and Hannah walked out of the hut into the open. They went around exploring the surroundings, exchanging a few remarks with other girls whose curiosity brought them out for the same reason. It felt good to walk on the soft pine needles, to hear the birds sing, to sense nature at its best, after having spent three years in a terrifyingly ugly, gloomy, grey slum. There were patches of forest between the huts and behind them, on which the girls could lie about and rest after work or on Sunday afternoons. The latrines were behind the huts, near the barbed wires, which were guarded day and night by elderly soldiers. There was a road outside the camp which was for public use for the Germans, and jeeps, tanks and lorries made their way along it quite frequently. A constant hum echoed through the forest -the hidden factories at work."
"They settled down in groups under the trees and talked. There was much they had to say to each other, especially if they had friends in common of whom they could give information. Even the sad news did not upset the girls very much as their whole attitude to life was such as to take all these things in their stride. Their only aim was to survive themselves. They found out that they were in Silesia, not very far from Breslau. There were many men’s camps strewn all over the forest, French, Italian, Dutch, Polish, Russian and others, but theirs was the only Jewish one. The girls went out in groups to work in quarries, dig roads, fell trees, lay bricks, work in factories and do any work that was required of them. They quite often came in touch with prisoners from other camps who passed on information to them and at times gave them a piece of bread or a present they had received in a parcel which their people at home were allowed to send them. Only the Jewish camp was not permitted to communicate with the outer world. All the girls who had arrived here two months ago came via Terezienstadt and the mixed camp in Auschwitz. They were the lucky ones who got out just before their six months of waiting for the gas chamber was up.
"Judith learned that her grandparents had died in Terezienstadt and Eva, her best friend went to the gas chamber. Two or three of her former school-mates died in one camp or another, overcome by illness or exhaustion."
"The Germans began to clear the far end of the ghetto first. It was the section across the bridge. There were eighty thousand inhabitants in the ghetto and about ten thousand could be dealt with in one day. That meant that the emptying of the Jewish quarters would take a week or so. There was still hope for some people. Eight days could be a long time in a critical situation. So many things could happen in eight days!
"In the evening the Schu-Po men disappeared from the streets, but the number of guards at the wires was trebled. There was no question of escape, no chance to hide anywhere. The Germans knew their job.
"All shops were closed, all rations cancelled. To succeed in hiding would mean to die of starvation in addition to other risks. It might take weeks before the Russians arrived. Nobody suspected, however, that the great leaders of a few nations had arranged for the Russian forces to stop at Warsaw for another six months."
................................................................................................
"Outside the barred holes a strange world was spread in front of them. The hot sun was scorching the yellow sand that stretched for miles like a desert on which stood this incredible town that was no town at all. It was enclosed in barbed wires strewn with hundreds of wooden huts placed in rows and swarming with people who resembled human beings very little. They were all dressed in a sort of striped pyjamas. Their cheeks and temples were hollow; their heads were shaved! They dragged their feet behind them as they walked, apparently aimlessly, from place to place.
"There wasn’t a tree or plant in sight. The air was still and a deadly threat hung over the endless place.
"The train stopped, and a mixture of noises composed of sharp German commands, the howling of dogs and cracking of whips, filled the immediate surroundings. Within seconds the doors flew ajar, unbolted by skilful hands that had undoubtedly done such jobs many times before.
"An unearthly chaos followed. There was no time for the prisoners to think, no time to make decisions. The light that flowed into the dark interior of the waggons almost blinded them.
"“Get out! Get out! Hurry up! Quicker! Quicker!”
"Whips cracked, dogs barked. “Leave your luggage behind! Hurry! Hurry!”
"Those who stood at the back of the waggon managed to snatch their bread, or an object that was very precious to them and hide it in their clothes."
"This was Auschwitz, the concentration camp."
................................................................................................
After having lived at Auschwitz for a while, Judith was picked among other young inmates for transport elsewhere.
"The forest stretched for miles, and it seemed as though the whole world was bedecked with trees. Having travelled like this for a while, somebody suddenly spied a building half hidden in the ground and camouflaged so as to look as if it were part of the forest. And then another one appeared, and another, and soon everyone realized that there was a whole town of them cunningly concealed from hostile eyes. Long pipes about fifteen feet from the ground connected one building with the other, letting forth humming sounds that filled the air. The trees, whose trunks had been made bare save for a cap of branches at the top, stood in straight lines, following the military pattern of their country.
"“Must be some factories.”
"“It couldn’t be anything else,” the girls guessed, pushing their way to the little windows.
"At about two o’clock the train slowed down and stopped. German guards who had accompanied them jumped from the train, shouted at each other from all sides, footsteps sounded along the gravel, and a little while later the sliding doors thundered open.
"“Everyone out!”
"“Into fives!”"
................................................................................................
"The rest of the afternoon was their own. Judith and Hannah walked out of the hut into the open. They went around exploring the surroundings, exchanging a few remarks with other girls whose curiosity brought them out for the same reason. It felt good to walk on the soft pine needles, to hear the birds sing, to sense nature at its best, after having spent three years in a terrifyingly ugly, gloomy, grey slum. There were patches of forest between the huts and behind them, on which the girls could lie about and rest after work or on Sunday afternoons. The latrines were behind the huts, near the barbed wires, which were guarded day and night by elderly soldiers. There was a road outside the camp which was for public use for the Germans, and jeeps, tanks and lorries made their way along it quite frequently. A constant hum echoed through the forest -the hidden factories at work."
"They settled down in groups under the trees and talked. There was much they had to say to each other, especially if they had friends in common of whom they could give information. Even the sad news did not upset the girls very much as their whole attitude to life was such as to take all these things in their stride. Their only aim was to survive themselves. They found out that they were in Silesia, not very far from Breslau. There were many men’s camps strewn all over the forest, French, Italian, Dutch, Polish, Russian and others, but theirs was the only Jewish one. The girls went out in groups to work in quarries, dig roads, fell trees, lay bricks, work in factories and do any work that was required of them. They quite often came in touch with prisoners from other camps who passed on information to them and at times gave them a piece of bread or a present they had received in a parcel which their people at home were allowed to send them. Only the Jewish camp was not permitted to communicate with the outer world. All the girls who had arrived here two months ago came via Terezienstadt and the mixed camp in Auschwitz. They were the lucky ones who got out just before their six months of waiting for the gas chamber was up.
"Judith learned that her grandparents had died in Terezienstadt and Eva, her best friend went to the gas chamber. Two or three of her former school-mates died in one camp or another, overcome by illness or exhaustion."
................................................................................................
She found some paper and a pencil, and hid it, beginning to write a diary in code she invented.
"11th September 1944.
"The best news for a long time. Germany has been invaded at last. The Allies are on German soil!"
"16th September 1944.
"Russian armies reached Czechoslovakian border and Warsaw was taken at last. This means that the Allies are coming towards us from all sides. Somehow it is the general opinion that the Germans won’t destroy us all at the last minute. They will be too eager to show how well they treated us. From today onwards we shall be getting soup at work every day – that certainly means something. If they gave us proper clothes to save us freezing in the morning and evening, things wouldn’t be so bad. However, the wonderful air here and our hopes compensate for most discomforts."
"12th October 1944.
"Today all pregnant women were told to report to the camp hospital. By the evening they were gone. God knows what the Germans have done to them, probably murdered them. Paula, who is expecting her baby in February, said nothing good would come of it and didn’t report. I think she was wise, though how long she will be able to conceal it, nobody knows. We told her she mustn’t walk about the camp alone, at roll call to stand at the back and at work to try to be surrounded by a group of other girls. Anyway, we all have tummies like tanks from all the water we are drinking and with a blanket wrapped cleverly around her, she might get away with it.
"It is amazing how the body can adjust itself, if necessary. The other day we got soaked wet at work during a thunder storm, we had to go on working, and so the clothes dried on us. However none of us suffered for it. At home we would have had pneumonia twice over."
"6th December 1944.
"Today is St. Nicholas Day. Last night we had a party in Block 1. We sang and told jokes and some of the girls gave little performances. There were skits on the Germans which were very funny, especially as one of the guards was present and couldn’t understand a word. Once he asked what the joke was and Janka who was in that particular spot quickly made up a story which made him rock with laughter and put us in an even better mood. There is something satisfying in fooling a German."
"5th January 1945.
"We have been working in a factory for the last few days. At present we are on night shift working from 10 p.m. till 6 a.m. With the snow making walking difficult for us, the journey there takes us almost two hours. There is something sinister about this forest by night with the humming of the factories disturbing the dark stillness. It is beautifully warm inside. We are making little hand grenades. It is the best job we have had so far for we work together with French and Dutch boys and there is a very good atmosphere about. The boys let us into their secrets of sabotage, telling us how best we could take our part in it. There is something very satisfying in that. Apparently those who mix the gunpowder use the wrong proportion whenever they are not being supervised."
She found some paper and a pencil, and hid it, beginning to write a diary in code she invented.
"11th September 1944.
"The best news for a long time. Germany has been invaded at last. The Allies are on German soil!"
"16th September 1944.
"Russian armies reached Czechoslovakian border and Warsaw was taken at last. This means that the Allies are coming towards us from all sides. Somehow it is the general opinion that the Germans won’t destroy us all at the last minute. They will be too eager to show how well they treated us. From today onwards we shall be getting soup at work every day – that certainly means something. If they gave us proper clothes to save us freezing in the morning and evening, things wouldn’t be so bad. However, the wonderful air here and our hopes compensate for most discomforts."
"12th October 1944.
"Today all pregnant women were told to report to the camp hospital. By the evening they were gone. God knows what the Germans have done to them, probably murdered them. Paula, who is expecting her baby in February, said nothing good would come of it and didn’t report. I think she was wise, though how long she will be able to conceal it, nobody knows. We told her she mustn’t walk about the camp alone, at roll call to stand at the back and at work to try to be surrounded by a group of other girls. Anyway, we all have tummies like tanks from all the water we are drinking and with a blanket wrapped cleverly around her, she might get away with it.
"It is amazing how the body can adjust itself, if necessary. The other day we got soaked wet at work during a thunder storm, we had to go on working, and so the clothes dried on us. However none of us suffered for it. At home we would have had pneumonia twice over."
................................................................................................
"6th December 1944.
"Today is St. Nicholas Day. Last night we had a party in Block 1. We sang and told jokes and some of the girls gave little performances. There were skits on the Germans which were very funny, especially as one of the guards was present and couldn’t understand a word. Once he asked what the joke was and Janka who was in that particular spot quickly made up a story which made him rock with laughter and put us in an even better mood. There is something satisfying in fooling a German."
"5th January 1945.
"We have been working in a factory for the last few days. At present we are on night shift working from 10 p.m. till 6 a.m. With the snow making walking difficult for us, the journey there takes us almost two hours. There is something sinister about this forest by night with the humming of the factories disturbing the dark stillness. It is beautifully warm inside. We are making little hand grenades. It is the best job we have had so far for we work together with French and Dutch boys and there is a very good atmosphere about. The boys let us into their secrets of sabotage, telling us how best we could take our part in it. There is something very satisfying in that. Apparently those who mix the gunpowder use the wrong proportion whenever they are not being supervised."
................................................................................................
They saw German refugees on horse drawn vehicles or with them on foot passing the camp, going West, trying to escape Russian armies.
They were taken marching on foot from Silesia to Bavaria, through forests and villages; some tried escaping, but were caught. Those who couldn't walk were shot. Then suddenly there was a cattle train again for them.
"The air raids came one after another and for hours they stood still in the desolate countryside, while bombs played havoc around them. Several times they had to turn back onto different rails, as those they had been on had been wrecked. Silently the girls in the coal waggon listened to the explosions around them, hoping for a miraculous liberation."
Locked in without food, water or sanitation, they began to die after four days, one by one. On seventh day they were ordered to march, and after a day of marching arrived at Bergen-Belsen.
Hannah was kicked to death by a young S.S. guard.
"It was a warm evening. The women in block 6 were as usual fighting and quarrelling over their places. Suddenly, quite suddenly, a bright light spread over the whole camp. Flabbergasted the women stopped their quarrels and stared out of the window. It was almost like daylight. British planes roared above their heads and disappeared.
"“The British have seen us! They have seen us! Our friends know we are here!”"
"Next day there was no food, nor the day after and thousands more were carried out of the huts."
"After four days without food, the Germans suddenly decided to give them the soup again and a slice of bread to go with it.
"“How long is it since we have seen any bread?” asked Kitty. “I can’t remember,” said Judith.
"It seemed that more people were dying now than before and thousands became violently ill with dysentery. But nobody suspected that the precious piece of bread was the cause of the new trouble. The Germans had mixed ground glass with the flour. It was one way of killing off more prisoners, without using ammunition or fuel. Besides nobody would ever know. It wasn’t their fault that the inmates were dying of starvation. There wasn’t even enough food to go round for all the Germans; how could they be expected to feed the prisoners! They didn’t really ill-treat them. They never shot anyone in Belsen nor gassed anyone. Surely if the British came, they would see they weren’t really bad, that they did their best. They even gave them bread when there was barely enough to go round their own people. As a matter of fact, they were really quite good!"
They saw German refugees on horse drawn vehicles or with them on foot passing the camp, going West, trying to escape Russian armies.
They were taken marching on foot from Silesia to Bavaria, through forests and villages; some tried escaping, but were caught. Those who couldn't walk were shot. Then suddenly there was a cattle train again for them.
"The air raids came one after another and for hours they stood still in the desolate countryside, while bombs played havoc around them. Several times they had to turn back onto different rails, as those they had been on had been wrecked. Silently the girls in the coal waggon listened to the explosions around them, hoping for a miraculous liberation."
Locked in without food, water or sanitation, they began to die after four days, one by one. On seventh day they were ordered to march, and after a day of marching arrived at Bergen-Belsen.
................................................................................................
Hannah was kicked to death by a young S.S. guard.
"It was a warm evening. The women in block 6 were as usual fighting and quarrelling over their places. Suddenly, quite suddenly, a bright light spread over the whole camp. Flabbergasted the women stopped their quarrels and stared out of the window. It was almost like daylight. British planes roared above their heads and disappeared.
"“The British have seen us! They have seen us! Our friends know we are here!”"
"Next day there was no food, nor the day after and thousands more were carried out of the huts."
"After four days without food, the Germans suddenly decided to give them the soup again and a slice of bread to go with it.
"“How long is it since we have seen any bread?” asked Kitty. “I can’t remember,” said Judith.
"It seemed that more people were dying now than before and thousands became violently ill with dysentery. But nobody suspected that the precious piece of bread was the cause of the new trouble. The Germans had mixed ground glass with the flour. It was one way of killing off more prisoners, without using ammunition or fuel. Besides nobody would ever know. It wasn’t their fault that the inmates were dying of starvation. There wasn’t even enough food to go round for all the Germans; how could they be expected to feed the prisoners! They didn’t really ill-treat them. They never shot anyone in Belsen nor gassed anyone. Surely if the British came, they would see they weren’t really bad, that they did their best. They even gave them bread when there was barely enough to go round their own people. As a matter of fact, they were really quite good!"
................................................................................................
"The shooting continued throughout the day. The sound of battle came from all sides. Sometimes the huts shook and the glass panes trembled under the pressure. Throughout the camp prisoners held hands, listening to the most wonderful symphony of Allied guns. They were coming closer and closer and an unusual mixture of hope and fear took possession of all the inmates. They did not dare to be happy yet, though with every new shot a little energy and joy surged through their veins. For days the camp was in a state of expectation."
Suddenly the cry rang out one morning - the Germans had run away.
"The gates between the various sub-camps lay open for people to wander in and out, but the main gates were guarded by Hungarian soldiers who had shared the military barracks with the Germans not far away. Nobody was allowed to leave the camp. Several prisoners were shot in the attempts to break through. The fighting in the forest behind the camp was still going on, and some people were afraid that the Germans might come back."
"It was the 15th of April 1945. After a few hours of silence, the shooting started again, this time quite near. Tension in the camp rose. The prisoners’ ears were constantly tuned to the bangs echoing in the vicinity. All this, however, didn’t stop hundreds more people from dying."
"In the afternoon they dragged themselves out into the sunshine and sat against the barrack wall. Suddenly the huge entrance gate to the camp not far away from them flew open and a British tank rolled in. Another one followed and another until a whole file of them crawled along the camp road. In spite of her illness Judith gasped and stared and her heart stood still for a moment."
"The shooting continued throughout the day. The sound of battle came from all sides. Sometimes the huts shook and the glass panes trembled under the pressure. Throughout the camp prisoners held hands, listening to the most wonderful symphony of Allied guns. They were coming closer and closer and an unusual mixture of hope and fear took possession of all the inmates. They did not dare to be happy yet, though with every new shot a little energy and joy surged through their veins. For days the camp was in a state of expectation."
Suddenly the cry rang out one morning - the Germans had run away.
"The gates between the various sub-camps lay open for people to wander in and out, but the main gates were guarded by Hungarian soldiers who had shared the military barracks with the Germans not far away. Nobody was allowed to leave the camp. Several prisoners were shot in the attempts to break through. The fighting in the forest behind the camp was still going on, and some people were afraid that the Germans might come back."
"It was the 15th of April 1945. After a few hours of silence, the shooting started again, this time quite near. Tension in the camp rose. The prisoners’ ears were constantly tuned to the bangs echoing in the vicinity. All this, however, didn’t stop hundreds more people from dying."
"In the afternoon they dragged themselves out into the sunshine and sat against the barrack wall. Suddenly the huge entrance gate to the camp not far away from them flew open and a British tank rolled in. Another one followed and another until a whole file of them crawled along the camp road. In spite of her illness Judith gasped and stared and her heart stood still for a moment."
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March 27, 2020 -
April 14, 2020 - April 21, 2020.
ISBN 978-1-908223-92-0
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March 27, 2020 -
April 14, 2020 - April 21, 2020.
ISBN 978-1-908223-92-0
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