Tuesday, April 28, 2020

On the Decay of the Art of Lying, by Mark Twain.



Delightful, and true. As expected of this legendary author!
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"Note that venerable proverb: Children and fools always speak the truth. The deduction is plain —adults and wise persons never speak it."
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"In a far country where I once lived the ladies used to go around paying calls, under the humane and kindly pretence of wanting to see each other; and when they returned home, they would cry out with a glad voice, saying, "We made sixteen calls and found fourteen of them out" —not meaning that they found out anything important against the fourteen—no, that was only a colloquial phrase to signify that they were not at home—and their manner of saying it expressed their lively satisfaction in that fact. Now their pretence of wanting to see the fourteen—and the other two whom they had been less lucky with—was that commonest and mildest form of lying which is sufficiently described as a deflection from the truth. Is it justifiable? Most certainly. It is beautiful, it is noble; for its object is, not to reap profit, but to convey a pleasure to the sixteen. The iron-souled truth-monger would plainly manifest, or even utter the fact that he didn't want to see those people—and he would be an ass, and inflict totally unnecessary pain. And next, those ladies in that far country—but never mind, they had a thousand pleasant ways of lying, that grew out of gentle impulses, and were a credit to their intelligence and an honor to their hearts. Let the particulars go."

The "far country" is in fact U.S. and the custom prevailed during the carriage era preceding automobiles and telephones. Dropping in unexpectedly was always a no no in West, but in Europe they sent a footman with a note taking cognizance so to speak; in U.S. with the pretense of equality that won't do, so ladies actually did a morning of rounds "calling" on a whole lot in town, which usually meant leaving one's card. One fixed a day a week for one's "At Home" hour when one would receive anyone calling, but of course, that meant anyone from the acceptable set. Rest, the butler dealt with, or the footman did.  
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"The men in that far country were liars, every one. Their mere howdy-do was a lie, because they didn't care how you did, except they were undertakers. To the ordinary inquirer you lied in return; for you made no conscientious diagnostic of your case, but answered at random, and usually missed it considerably. You lied to the undertaker, and said your health was failing—a wholly commendable lie, since it cost you nothing and pleased the other man. If a stranger called and interrupted you, you said with your hearty tongue, "I'm glad to see you," and said with your heartier soul, "I wish you were with the cannibals and it was dinner-time." When he went, you said regretfully, "Must you go?" and followed it with a "Call again;" but you did no harm, for you did not deceive anybody nor inflict any hurt, whereas the truth would have made you both unhappy."
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"An injurious lie is an uncommendable thing; and so, also, and in the same degree, is an injurious truth—a fact that is recognized by the law of libel."
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April 26, 2020 - April 28, 2020.
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Sunday, April 26, 2020

Clocks (Works of Jerome K. Jerome): by Jerome K. Jerome.



Clocks:-

Small and very very readable, and everything one expects of the author after reading the three men adventures - although in this only the protagonist figures along with his social interactions generally as necessary.

The chief interaction is with the clocks in general and a large grandfather clock in particular, which was bought because the wife admired one bought by a friend of the husband and wished they could have one - and who has not experienced this, having seen a beautiful clock in someone's home, remembering one that actually did belong to one's grandfather (but one was too young then and not stable enough to have a home to house such a clock, so he did not leave it for one to inherit after all!) - so one connects with this immediately, even in this era of various far more advanced clocks - digital clocks and watches, computers and laptops and phones, almost everything everywhere with its own clock and that too either atomic or gps or better, with possibilities of two or more clocks display according to one's needs or fancy.

Still, one hankers after such clocks for home, a large grandfather clock and - if one has seen them - a cuckoo clock too if one can have them. And then one reads this, and one's tiredness of work vanishes and one laughs out loud never mind how late one lay oneself in bed and expected to read only a page before falling asleep. One cannot put this one down and is sorry he did not write more about his fights and coming to understandings with his other clocks.

In one word?

Superb!

Tuesday, May 13, 2014.
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"Truth and fact are old-fashioned and out-of-date, my friends, fit only for the dull and vulgar to live by. Appearance, not reality, is what the clever dog grasps at in these clever days. We spurn the dull-brown solid earth; we build our lives and homes in the fair-seeming rainbow-land of shadow and chimera.

"To ourselves, sleeping and waking there, behind the rainbow, there is no beauty in the house; only a chill damp mist in every room, and, over all, a haunting fear of the hour when the gilded clouds will melt away, and let us fall—somewhat heavily, no doubt—upon the hard world underneath."
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"The world is a gingerbread fair, and we all stand outside our booths and point to the gorgeous-colored pictures, and beat the big drum and brag. Brag! brag! Life is one great game of brag!

""Buy my soap, oh ye people, and ye will never look old, and the hair will grow again on your bald places, and ye will never be poor or unhappy again; and mine is the only true soap. Oh, beware of spurious imitations!"

""Buy my lotion, all ye that suffer from pains in the head, or the stomach, or the feet, or that have broken arms, or broken hearts, or objectionable mothers-in-law; and drink one bottle a day, and all your troubles will be ended."

""Come to my church, all ye that want to go to Heaven, and buy my penny weekly guide, and pay my pew-rates; and, pray ye, have nothing to do with my misguided brother over the road. This is the only safe way!"

""Oh, vote for me, my noble and intelligent electors, and send our party into power, and the world shall be a new place, and there shall be no sin or sorrow any more! And each free and independent voter shall have a bran new Utopia made on purpose for him, according to his own ideas, with a good-sized, extra-unpleasant purgatory attached, to which he can send everybody he does not like. Oh! do not miss this chance!"

"Oh! listen to my philosophy, it is the best and deepest. Oh! hear my songs, they are the sweetest. Oh! buy my pictures, they alone are true art. Oh! read my books, they are the finest.

"Oh! I am the greatest cheesemonger, I am the greatest soldier, I am the greatest statesman, I am the greatest poet, I am the greatest showman, I am the greatest mountebank, I am the greatest editor, and I am the greatest patriot. We are the greatest nation. We are the only good people. Ours is the only true religion. Bah! how we all yell!

"How we all brag and bounce, and beat the drum and shout; and nobody believes a word we utter; and the people ask one another, saying:

""How can we tell who is the greatest and the cleverest among all these shrieking braggarts?"

"And they answer:

""There is none great or clever. The great and clever men are not here; there is no place for them in this pandemonium of charlatans and quacks. The men you see here are crowing cocks. We suppose the greatest and the best of them are they who crow the loudest and the longest; that is the only test of their merits."

"Therefore, what is left for us to do, but to crow? And the best and greatest of us all, is he who crows the loudest and the longest on this little dunghill that we call our world!"
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"He is an odd old fellow!

"I have thought now and then of having him "seen to," and made to keep regular hours and be respectable; but, somehow, I seem to have grown to love him as he is with his daring mockery of Time.

"He certainly has not much respect for it. He seems to go out of his way almost to openly insult it. He calls half-past two thirty-eight o'clock, and in twenty minutes from then he says it is one!

"Is it that he really has grown to feel contempt for his master, and wishes to show it? They say no man is a hero to his valet; may it be that even stony-face Time himself is but a short-lived, puny mortal—a little greater than some others, that is all—to the dim eyes of this old servant of his? Has he, ticking, ticking, all these years, come at last to see into the littleness of that Time that looms so great to our awed human eyes?

"Is he saying, as he grimly laughs, and strikes his thirty-fives and forties: "Bah! I know you, Time, godlike and dread though you seem. What are you but a phantom—a dream—like the rest of us here? Ay, less, for you will pass away and be no more. Fear him not, immortal men. Time is but the shadow of the world upon the background of Eternity!""
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April 26, 2020.

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Outcry - Holocaust memoirs by Manny Steinberg.



Quoted from foreword by author:-

"The following pages recount my real-life experiences and memories, but the names in my story have all been fictionalized."

Wonder why.
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"When I look back at what our family went through after Mama died, I think perhaps her early exit from this world was a blessing in disguise. I can't imagine my mother suffering the pain of having her children ripped from her arms or the indecencies and degradations that my stepmother had to endure at the hands of the Nazis."

"My father was full of plans for me and my brothers. He wanted a better life for us, and hoped that we would get a good education and find a proper profession.

"During that time, the Polish government had put limitations into place on professional careers for Jews. Jews could not access the necessary education to become professors, doctors, scientists or engineers. There was one semi-professional career path available, that of dental technician, so this was what my father had in mind for me. His eyes would light up with pride when he talked to me about it. To see his son become a technician would be a dream come true.

"Sometimes parents’ wishes and hopes for their children don't come to pass. Often this is because the children have their own dreams and aspirations. Of course, we could not know that our plans along with those of our father would soon be irrelevant, since no one could have imagined what was about to happen."

"Radom had a fine history too. Members of the Polish royal family resided there from time to time. We also had records of many victorious battles over old enemies. There was much beauty in Radom with its pretty parks, statues, museums and broad tree-lined avenues. We were proud of our little town.

"One of my earlier memories is Polish women, in their long dresses and with scarves tied around their heads, sitting at the entrances to the parks with their boxes of flowers. I often noticed that their hands were red and chapped during the cold winters and yet they sat there calling to anyone that would listen, “Please buy a flower for your girl.” I longed to help them.

"While my brothers and other boys would go into the park to play, I would stand to the side and watch these poor women attempting to make a few pennies so that their families would not starve. I realized that there were people who were really poor."

"As Stanley and I grew up, the brotherly bond grew strong. We were close in age, had similar interests and enjoyed the same activities. On the other hand, we were complete opposites physically. I had brown eyes, dark hair and olive skin, while Stanley was fair, with hazel eyes and light hair. It proved to be a blessing from God that the difference was so striking, for it surely saved our lives during the prison years to come."

"In my early years, I don't recall noticing any anti-Semitism. In fact, anti-Semitism was a concept Stanley and I had never heard of or experienced. However, we did live in the Jewish part of the city and were therefore sheltered from outside prejudice.

"As the months passed, it became obvious that the times were changing. There was an undercurrent of rage against our religion. We heard of Polish boys sneaking up behind elderly Jewish men and pulling their beards or rocks being thrown at women and children. The word ‘Jew’ appeared on walls and shop windows throughout the city. The madness was escalating like a breeze turning into a tornado."

"Things were getting worse by the minute. I continued to question the cruelty and accusations hurled at us on a constant basis. I prayed and thought deeply about our hardships, but couldn't find the answer within myself, so I turned to our father for guidance and explanation. I carefully examined his face as he searched for the right words. Perhaps he was wondering if he should tell me the awful truth or maybe keep it secret as long as possible, the frightening reality of what may come, ending the innocence of my childhood.

"He sighed deeply, put his hand on my shoulder and with a strained expression, he began to explain, “Son, I suppose it's time for you to know what is happening to our people to help you to understand what we must do to prepare ourselves for what lies ahead. For some time now, there has been an agenda against Jews and according to the latest news something terrible is going on in Germany. A man with a great hatred has come into power and has declared his plan for the complete extermination of our people. You know what the word extermination means, Mendel?”"

"Time passed, and I noticed that everyone had a worried or sad look on their face. Laughter and joy seemed to no longer exist. Depression and turmoil were to leave a mark on rich and poor alike. Business in Radom was falling off and I recall that our way of life was changing rapidly. We began to feel the lack of money, the shortage of food and we were cautioned to save our pennies."
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"Papa travelled a great deal in his youth. At one time, he considered Argentina to be his home. He liked to talk and his stories were like tales from the Arabian Nights to us. We learned that he had met my mother in Radom during his travels. After he returned to South America, they continued to correspond through letters and postcards. He tried to persuade her to go there many times, to marry him and make Argentina her home too. But my mother was an only child and couldn't bear to leave her parents, let alone travel such a great distance. It was very common in those days to move away and perhaps never see your family again. And so it was that my father eventually returned to Radom, married my mother Milka and started his family. No one would have ever thought that this happy, carefree life would take a turn for the worse in just a few short years."

"My parents taught us that all men were created equal in the eyes of God. That color and creed does not make a difference in the character of a man. It is the way a person is inside that's important, not the color of his skin. My Papa was a good man and lived by his convictions."

"Papa told us about the dark-skinned people that lived in South America. He also spoke of the passengers on the ship he travelled on and how they would throw coins in the harbor. The young black men would dive for the coins, bringing them up with their teeth every time. This was all so fascinating to me. I was eleven years old when I first saw a dark-skinned man."

"I remember that Chinese people visited our town too. I watched as they set up their beautiful rugs, which they intended to sell. They wore colorful dresses made of silk. I wanted to talk to the children, but I was too shy."

"During the summer months when we were free from school, my father would take us for long walks in the beautiful countryside. We would bring lunch and find a spot in the shade in which to picnic. Sometimes, we would stop at a farm and the farmer would give us milk, still slightly warm from the cow. I can still remember the taste of that milk. Those Polish and German farmers were our friends."

"Our family could not afford to buy a radio but there was a neighbor in our building who could, and for a while I was almost a permanent member of their household. How I loved the great orchestras from Hungary, Romania and our Poland. I would finish my lessons quickly and then spend an entire evening lost in this wonderful world of music. Sometimes my mother would give me a pie or cookies or part of a cake to share with my friends in exchange for this great enjoyment."
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"“Hello, what’s new today?”

“It is bad son, very bad. They have mobilized young men and reservists by the authority of the Polish High Command.”

"“Does this mean that we are going to war?”

"“I’m sure of it.” He sighed and shook his head. “War will soon be declared.”

"I tried to read more but people were grabbing the papers, anxious to learn more. There were groups of men everywhere, discussing the frightening thing that was happening to our country. I continued on my way to school, but when I arrived, I found it closed. I ran home, concerned about my family."

"It was cloudy and dark, with a sense of foreboding in the air. I was sure the sun would never shine again. It was as though a hurricane was about to hit the city, but we weren’t scared of wind and rain, but bombs."

"Around 8 pm, we heard a loud knock on the door. Mama and my brothers ran into the bedroom. Papa opened the door. Outside was a member of the special Polish police. He ordered us to go to the basement of our building. That was all.

"My father and stepmother herded us all together, shoving blankets, food and other supplies into our arms. Mama sobbed as she took one last look around our small apartment and gathered a few belongings. She knew this could be the last time she would see her cherished treasures."

"Finally, on the fifth day at about 5 pm in the afternoon, a patrol of policemen on motorcycles arrived. We could hear the noise of their engines as they came to an abrupt halt. They were the German Nazis, the real enemies of the Jews."

"For the first time, we met our enemy. I was struck with disbelief as I realized that among these German policemen were several familiar faces. They were the same people I had come to know at the marketplace and the farmers who had always been good to us. They were the ones who had taken me into their homes, shared their food and been my friends. Now I saw them wearing the armbands with the swastika and looking at me with hatred in their eyes. Why? I also saw weapons of war for the first time.

"Huge black tanks manned by Germans dressed in black shirts with red armbands with swastikas, large green trucks filled with German soldiers with rifles drawn and finally the convoy of motorcycle policemen roaring down the streets in our section of the city."

"Now the looting started.

"The soldiers left their weapons of death and destruction and began breaking into the shops and offices. They broke the fine glass windows and doors, the same ones Stanley and I had looked through, daydreaming, not that long ago. They took the merchandise that had been abandoned when the owners fled for their lives.

"I watched as they grabbed bundles and boxes of whatever they chose and returned to their trucks sneering at our people as if to say, “What can you do about it?” The answer was easy: nothing.

"We stood helpless."

"I walked towards my building and slowly turned around to take one last look at the broken shop windows where there had once been pretty dresses, lovely furs, sparkling jewels, and children's clothes and shoes. The bookshops were in ruins too. Books were thrown into the streets, and then run over by the large tanks. Other soldiers poured kerosene over any fresh meat and crushed vegetables and fruit under their feet. German soldiers guarded the entrances to the stores so that the shop owners would not attempt to salvage any of their goods. As I made my way back to our building I could not control my tears. How much could a boy of thirteen take? But as I found out in the years to come, the human mind and body can endure the most unimaginable hardships. Deep in thought I continued home.

"I began to realize that this destruction meant that all business would stop. There would be no jobs for our people and no wages. They had taken away our liberty, earning potential, and dignity. The next step would be our lives.

"It was my opinion that the Jewish population made the best merchants in the world. It was as if the Jews had a gene governing salesmanship. There would be nowhere to purchase goods, buy supplies, or even food."

"A chilling scream caused me to jump out of my seat.

"We ran to the window and witnessed the most savage and cruel act I thought could ever be seen. I was nauseous as I watched young Polish girls with their legs tied apart, their bodies exposed in the most humiliating and degrading way. The soldiers were raping, mutilating and subjecting these women to unbelievable acts of sadistic torture."

"Several trucks went slowly up and down the streets carrying hysterically sobbing teenage girls. The men were of all ages and acted like animals. I could see the lust in their faces and the girls' pain and horror. After they had brutalized and used these young women, they saturated their helpless victims with brandy and threw them onto the street. Clothing torn, their bodies abused, left for dead."

"The streets were muddy from a recent shower and stagnant pools of water were everywhere. Among these, innocent victims lay moaning, crying or lifeless."

"The next day we discovered that we had not, by any means, seen or felt the full wrath of the Nazis. The SS troops arrived in their black uniforms with the skull insignia on their caps. How appropriate as their prime interest was the death of the Jews.

"In their first hour in town, under orders from the madman, they began taking our people and killing them. First went the leading citizens, the Rabbis, teachers, intellectuals and any strong young men. Without leadership they knew it would be difficult for us to organize and that the likelihood of resistance would be low.

"For no reason, our leaders were sentenced to death and shot in front of their families. Justice was not a word in the German vocabulary of the Nazi commanders. Nor did they recognize the word in any other language.

"Many people who were sick, ailing, or elderly were also exterminated at this time. The Nazis considered Jews to be inferior human beings, to be disposed of like rubbish.

"For some unknown reason, they spared the lives of a few Rabbis. Perhaps, in their sadistic way of thinking, the idea of ‘torture first’ was responsible for this decision. Because there came a time when these holy men were grabbed, held down and had gasoline poured on their beards and then set on fire. The Nazis watched, smiling, as these men of God writhed in agony. Some of them burned to death while others lay dying from the excruciating pain. In some cases, the finale was a shot to the head and then the body was left in the road where it had fallen."

"Our days and nights were filled with endless terror.

"Corpses littered the streets, covered with large sheets of paper. Family members searching for their missing sons, fathers, daughters or mothers roamed the streets, lifting up the corners of these paper sheets, then shaking their heads in pity and moving on to the next one. All they wanted was to know the fate of their loved ones.

"I will also never forget the day that a group of German soldiers decided to gather a group of Jewish boys and girls for their enjoyment. They broke bottles to make a large mountain of glass, and to this they added small sharp tacks. They rounded up children like cattle, and then forced them at gunpoint to dance with bare feet and perform sexual acts upon each other on this bed of torture. When they were no longer amused, they shot the children."
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"I thought of our beloved Rabbi, who had been tortured and killed. He was my Hebrew school teacher and had taught me well. I knew the Old Testament by heart and had a good understanding of the Bible. He had poured his heart and soul into his teachings, not only with regard to religious subjects but how to behave, how to grow up to be a good Jew and the Golden Rule. He had devoted his whole life to teaching and now it was over. Again I wondered, why?"

"Near starvation, my family with three growing boys was forced to live on half a loaf of bread and one can of soup a day.

"Stanley was almost twelve years old and little Jacob was six by this time. Because tomorrow might never come, we never saved any of the bread. We could be taken away and killed that day.

"I would stand in line for three or four hours waiting to get our supply of daily bread at a bakery that was allowed to operate under the German command. The line moved slowly and sometimes the window closed just as I reached it. “No more bread and soup today, come back tomorrow.”

"Another day without food and perhaps we would be too weak to make the trip the next day to stand hours in line. They would say that since the Germans could not spare any more flour for bread, there was no more soup either. They would make us disperse and go home. The tyrants did not want people outside the Ghetto to see the bread lines."
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"Their inhumanity was to be a secret to the outside world. There were times when a Red Cross truck would come into the Ghetto filled with bread. They would hand out these loaves to the Jewish people and have pictures taken, in order to show how well we were being treated. Once the photography was done, the loaves were taken from us and put back on the truck. Deceptive propaganda, and there was nothing we could do to protest or expose this awful lie.

"In addition to the wire fence surrounding our Ghetto, which housed some thirty thousand Jews in an area of approximately six blocks, with SS guards at the entrances, they now installed loudspeakers so that we were subjected to their orders, threats and commands all throughout the day. Always those guttural voices with their deadly messages. How I yearned for one hour of complete silence.

"One day I heard that the purpose of establishing the Ghetto was to keep as many Jewish people as possible in a small, contained area and then without warning set fire to it and burn everyone alive. My hatred grew stronger and deeper.

"A general exodus began.

"Relatives, friends and neighbors started disappearing. We heard that some were taken to other Ghettos while others were sent to prison camps.

"This was the time when people were sent to the gas chambers hourly for quick extermination. Families were separated and then strangers would be brought in to keep the population in over-crowded quarters. Although things were terrible, we were at least together and had the privacy of our apartment. Behind closed doors we could talk and say what was in our hearts. We could still eat and sleep when we chose, but now that was to be taken away from us too.

"They inspected the number of inhabitants in each apartment, and soon there were sixteen people in our three rooms where there had previously been five. First to share our living space was a young couple with a year-old baby, a little girl I remember well. She was such a pretty toddler, but she cried almost continuously. I realized that babies cry when they're hungry."

"The reward for reporting a Jew was a bottle of vodka and a bag of sugar. That was our value at the time. The reward soon turned into a death penalty for anyone harboring or giving sanctuary to a Jew.

"A family of five came from the outskirts of Radom. They had three children, two boys aged four and six and a little girl who was still a toddler. After six weeks with us, they were taken away and shipped to an unknown destination. We never heard of or saw them again.

"And so it continued. As soon as one family was disposed of, another one took its place. It seemed that just when we began to get to know each other and learn to live together, the Germans would tear it up so that we had to start all over again with new strangers."
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"The day my friend Itzrock and his parents disappeared was very sad for me.

"One day we had been talking together and the next day he was gone. The German soldiers came into their room at night, and the next day we learned that he had been sent to one Ghetto and his parents to another. Hadn’t they suffered enough? The Nazis had closed their restaurant after ruining it, taken their belongings and were now moving strange families from other sections of Poland into their empty home.

"I could well imagine the struggle that took place as Itzrock was taken away from his mother and father. He was the only reason they continued to live. Such cruelty!

"My father later heard from a reliable source that Itzrock's mother and father were sent to the gas chambers. I felt much pain in my heart for poor Itzrock, now all alone in the world."
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"On the way to the work, we were forced to sing songs or pay the penalty of a slap across the head with a leather strap."

"“I have a big job for you”, he shouted. “You see the German Reich has many airplanes, but we cannot land them here, too much snow. Since we do not have the machinery here to remove it, you can enjoy the day dancing and stamping on it. Press it down to create a hard, even surface. It is 7 am and I am going for breakfast and for a visit with my girl. I am leaving you in the hands of my comrades. Killing all of you, or just one of you, would be to them the same as it would be for a Chinaman to eat a bowl of rice. I shall return later in the day and expect to find the airport in usable condition. For this you will receive a bowl of soup. I expect a job well done for our German Reich's cooking.”"
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"There were many casualties that day. The men who fell from hunger and fatigue were kicked out of the way and left to die. If they were able to survive the bitter cold, they were hauled home with us that night. Some were beaten for no apparent reason. Noses were broken, arms were fractured and two Jewish men were beaten to death for reasons unknown."

"It was dark and light snow fell during the ride back to the Ghetto. The silence was deafening. Tired and hungry, the uppermost thought in many of our minds was the fate of our families and loved ones while we were away. How many had been killed that day, how many beaten, how many young girls and, yes, even old women had been raped and subjected to the torture of our German conquerors?"
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"The Department of Death was busy those days. When a Jew was shot, the body had to remain where it fell with just a sheet of paper thrown over it. Soon large bugs and other vermin were seen crawling over them. The death work detail had been ordered not to touch them for the first few days. The Germans figured that the bodies would start to decompose and that an epidemic would occur, bringing about the end of Jewish lives in another ghastly way. Jewish men, women and children would begin to die from disease and infestations, thus relieving the Germans of this tedious job and saving some of their ammunition."
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"German guards with huge, vicious police dogs would keep watch along the fences. Although these dogs were on leashes, the guards would drop the leather straps and let the dogs attack at any given time. They would yell “Jew” and the poor soul wouldn't stand a chance.

"I saw a little Jewish boy, maybe five or six years old, a friend of Jacob, murdered this way, when he asked a Polish man on the other side of the fence for a piece of bread.

"We had been forbidden to make contact with anyone on the outside, but what did this child know about that? All he knew was that he was hungry. The guard saw him and in an instant the beast was devouring him. He went for his thin little neck, and with one bite of his sharp teeth the head was separated from the body. There was blood everywhere. The lifeless body lay on the dampened ground."
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"When the German forces suffered at the hands of the Allies, or when their home towns were bombed, they would punish us. They blamed us for it. To retaliate and express their anger they would shoot Jews as if for sport."

"Our miserable existence in the Ghetto ended in June 1942. We could never have predicted what happened next. The German soldiers, great numbers of them, came in the early morning, just as the sun was rising. They came with their tanks, trucks, machine guns and dogs. You would think they were invading the territory of a powerful enemy rather than helpless, innocent and starving people. There were a few guns and rifles in the possession of some people in the Ghetto, but no one had enough strength to pull a trigger or fight for our defense."

"“Get out, Jews! We will give you ten minutes!”"

"I stumbled many times going down those three flights of stairs. There were dead bodies lying in the halls and on the steps with their heads beaten in. It was hard not to slip on the brains and blood. These victims no doubt did not move fast enough and suffered the consequences from the German murderers. To my disbelief and horror, a soldier threw an infant up in the air and used her for target practice. Her mother screamed in excruciating agony and was then also shot. Would we ever wake up from this living nightmare?"
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"The old, the ailing, the sick and some of the younger boys were lined up. They were given shovels and told that they were going to be shot. Therefore, if they wanted to be buried and not lay on the ground for the vultures, they would have to dig their own graves. The shock was more than some could bear and they dropped to the ground, dead. Slowly and sadly the others performed their chore outside the camp, while the guards beat and kicked them as they dug their own graves. It wasn't long before we heard a continuous echo of shots as this mass murder was carried out."
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"I faced the first of thousands of line-ups and counts. We would be called at all hours of the day or night. We stood in the boiling heat of summer, the coldest winds of autumn and the snows of winter for a minimum of an hour or as long as eighteen hours. We stood silent and in fear that we would be told to step out of line. This generally only meant one thing. It was our time to be exterminated. The slightest infraction of a rule was a death sentence. If the guards saw that you were ill, it could also mean death. You were only allowed to be poorly for a few days, after which they considered you to be of no value and sent you before a firing squad.

"That first morning I had been without food for twenty-four hours and feared that I might faint in the hot sun. Somehow, with the help of my friend, I lasted through the count and at noon, after a bowl of weak soup and a slice of bread, I finally went into a deep sleep which lasted until we had to line up for our night rations.

"This first of the prison and concentration camps that was to be my home till the end of the war was located about ten miles from Radom. We were near the small village of Szkolna, where a large ammunition factory was in operation.

"The camp itself was about two miles from the factory and many of the prisoners who were able to work labored there. In exchange, they were given extra rations of bread, but only enough to give them the energy they needed to do a full day of work. I began work there, and eventually became involved with the Polish underground movement."
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"The camp also had its own underground movement, a way for news to get through to us. A detail of men was taken each day to work on the railroad tracks and took this opportunity to talk with the Polish railway employees. They were only allowed to take the trainloads of prisoners up to a certain point. Then another crew took over, and this arrangement made for a certain amount of secrecy in this inhuman operation, the transfer of thousands of innocent people to the gas chambers and the crematoriums.

"Some of the Polish men working on the trains sympathized with the Jews and passed on information. They told of how a chemical that smelled like chlorine would be sprinkled inside the cars. When the prisoners urinated, a deadly gas would form, suffocating them to death."
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"“My friend told me that everyone on the train from Radom either died on the way or was killed at the extermination camp. He has a relative who was part of the crew that completed the run into Treblinka and he told him about the horrible things that happened. I don't know if I should tell you more, Mendel.”

"“Please, I have taken this much, I want to hear it all.”

"“Well,” he took a deep breath, “when this trainload of innocent men, women and children arrived at the outskirts of Treblinka, they were thrown and herded into shallow ditches that had been dug by a detail of Germans and Ukrainians. The graves were so shallow and there were so many dead that the blood seeped through the thin layer of dirt covering the bodies and formed a red sea. He said the stench of stale blood and rotting flesh could be smelled for miles and stuck to the area for several weeks.”

"He stopped for a minute.

"“There is more, Mendel.”

"I nodded for him to go on.

"“Those that survived the train ride from Radom were taken off the cattle cars and moved inside the camp. They were told that they were going to have a bath after the dirty train ride and after they had been cleaned up, they would be given work orders. The children were given a small piece of candy and told that they would be with their mothers and fathers after their baths, and that they should make sure to breathe deeply when they went into the showers. In their weakened condition and confused state of mind, people willingly obeyed these orders. ... ”"
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"The guards were watching us very closely, because there was a rumor going around the camp that a group of five men and one woman had escaped from the prison. How happy we were for them! It was the main topic of conversation, and we were wondering how they did it. This only made the guards more alert than ever, and they began counting and recounting. At odd hours of the day and night we were called out for the count. No one else was going to get away, and our every move was monitored. The question in our minds however, was how anyone could ever escape this well-guarded prison. We knew it had to be a miracle from God. The mystery would soon be solved in a most extraordinary way.

"We dug around the wheels of the wagon but still could not get it to budge. The guard on duty called for some extra men from our barrack to help push or lift it out of the mud, which acted like quicksand. As the wagon came free, one of the guards happened to notice some tightly packed sand under the mud. This puzzled him, so he brought in the police dogs. The guards suspected something and put us to work digging further.

"After a few minutes of concentrated digging, we broke through the ground into a tunnel. My heart was in my mouth. We were told to stand aside and two guards dropped into the tunnel.

"Shortly afterwards the five prisoners climbed out, pale and trembling, the fear showing in their faces."

"I shall never forget how ghostly pale they were from living in the tunnel. They had enough food, but living underground had taken its toll. We all felt sorry for them. This had been a tremendous job and day after day they had lived in great fear of being discovered. And then, with their goal almost in sight, they were found out; their dream of freedom was gone.

"Even the Germans had to admire their strength, their fortitude and the ingenuity of their plan. When the gaping hole was exposed, the Germans’ expressions were of complete shock and disbelief. The five men and one red-haired woman had worked nights for almost two years tunneling and living beneath the earth. All the prisoners were in awe of these courageous individuals, as were the Germans."

"The guards made our lives hell. They were determined that no prisoner would get away, and became more brutal. There were more beatings as they took out their embarrassment on us."

"At last the Germans suffered heavy losses at the hands of the Russians, and needed every man they could spare to strengthen their armies. There just were not enough guards to go around. What relief and joy we experienced as we saw the Germans suffer defeat after defeat! Our hopes began to rise and our every thought was of eventual freedom.

"As the days went on, the Germans were getting weaker on the Russian front. Their armies were pushed back. The guards at the concentration camp were replaced by older men. The young and strong men were needed at the front. Their losses were made known to us in the form of extra beatings and punishments. That was the only way we had of knowing what was going on in the outside world. On the other hand, every small success was celebrated by singing and dancing, so such news reached us as well.

"In the night we could hear heavy bombardment. I could see fiery-red flashes from guns and great billows of smoke in the far distance through the one window in our barrack. My heart filled with renewed hope. I was sure the Russians were getting closer to us, but how close I couldn't know. Deep inside me I rejoiced. I had no idea what our fate would be at the hands of the Russians, but at least the Germans were being killed and crippled and I took comfort in knowing that thousands would never see their families again either. These German families would know some of the sadness and pain of parting that they had inflicted upon us."
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"We were ordered out into the night for a final count and while we were there, we were told that the Russians were only seventy miles away and that they were coming in great force. A spasm of joy went through my body, like a symphony of beautiful music, a feeling of exuberant happiness. Weak as we were, Stanley and I grabbed each other's hands and held on tightly.

"We left the camp at dawn. Thousands of prisoners moved slowly through the gates and beyond the barbed wire fences and walls. We did not know where we were going. The German guards were on horseback and used their whips to keep the long line of men moving forward."

"Every now and then, the guards would pull out their pistols and shoot some poor soul. There were also those who were tied to trees and shot for being too slow or tripping. “Good riddance”, the Germans would shout as they galloped away. Hundreds of prisoners lost their life in this manner, after everything they had already suffered behind the barbed wires."

"After four days and four nights of torture, we arrived at a little town named Tomaszow. We were guided into a large building that had once served as a hangar. Weak, sick and hungry, we remained like animals inside the building. Everyone was terrified that we would be gassed. As we were shoved and pushed through the doors, I thought about the building that housed the gas chamber in the camp. It was smaller than this one, and had a glass roof. The guards and officers would stand on top of the roof and witness the agony and suffocation of the helpless Jews. These Germans must be insane or inhuman. Nobody moved. The silence was deafening. Our time had come, we would now die. I looked up and noticed the small spigots along the top of the roof. I figured that was the way they would pipe the poisonous gas into the hangar.

"All of a sudden, a panic broke out and people began screaming and crying for help. Everyone dropped to their knees praying and begging for their life to be spared. I fainted from exhaustion, pain and hunger."

"The next thing I knew, a loud voice announced that the train had arrived for our transportation. We were to get to our feet and be ready to move on. We lined up five in a row and marched outside, only to see that the train consisted of cattle car after cattle car. We were treated like animals and traveled like animals. Locking arms with Stanley, I shuffled my way towards the train.

"After the door was slammed shut, the darkness was almost complete with the exception of a few small cracks and a tiny window at the rear of the car, covered with strands of barbed wire. Why had these Germans placed barbed wire over this small window? How could anyone possibly escape from one of these cars? We were packed so tightly that there wasn't even enough room to turn around.

"Before long, people began to die from the lack of air and cramped conditions. The dead bodies were left were they had fallen and then stood upon in an effort to make more room in the car. After a while, we were able to stack the bodies and use them as a ladder to break the small window. Everyone took his turn climbing the bodies to take a breath of fresh air. There was no food or water for hours and hours. We didn't travel like animals. It was worse. With no toilet facilities and the stench from the dead bodies, it was surprising that anyone lived through the journey at all."
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"After several days, we finally reached our mysterious destination. It was Auschwitz, the most infamous of the concentration camps. Here the gas chambers were said to work day and night to keep up with the mass murdering. Hope was gone again, replaced by the threat of death."

"We were told to remove our clothes and put them in a pile at our feet so that a physical examination could be carried out. I heard someone be addressed as Dr. Mengele and knew that this was the end. We had heard that he was Eichmann's main collaborator, and thought that we would be subjected to the most extreme torture. I prayed for Stanley and Papa and myself to be strong."

"This place we were in was a large railway terminal. Many trains pulled in throughout the day. Those awful cattle cars transporting our people came from all parts of Europe: Austria, Holland, France, Greece, Hungary and Poland, bringing more and more people to be killed. The gas chambers and crematoriums were constantly in operation as the Germans tried to keep up with the overflow of victims. There were others, too, that were killed because their ancestors had been of the Jewish faith. Some of the murdered victims claimed to not even have known about their heritage.

"For the first time I saw the tall chimneys with the reddish smoke billowing out from the top. They were the crematoriums. As soon as people arrived in the cattle cars, they were taken to the gas chambers. Older people that were too weak to walk or young children who had not learned to walk yet were thrown onto trucks with hydraulic lifts. The trucks would drive over to the crematorium, reverse up to it, and then use the hydraulic lift to make the people slide to a fiery death.

"Prisoners were given a piece of soap and told that we could take a bath if we wanted. This would have been a great treat, but of course we were afraid. We knew that this had been used to lure people into the gas chambers."

"After a while, it became time for us to again board the cattle cars for another unknown destination."
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"Another sudden stop, but this time the large sliding door opened and we were ordered out into the ditch alongside the tracks; an air raid siren began to sound. The guards hit us with clubs to make us move faster, away from the train. I was covering my head and trying to shield Stanley, when I saw Papa a few yards away. In an excited voice I told Stanley to look. There was Papa!

"He almost forgot where we were and started to run. I held his arm tightly, and warned him that Papa would be killed if they saw him. A club came down hard on my head and reminded me to move along. With Stanley by my side, blood dripping down the side of my head, we made our way with the crowd looking to take cover from the planes that would soon drop bombs over us."

"This prison camp was called Vaihingen."

"The days dragged on, but I did notice a change in the air raids. At the beginning of the war, the planes were few in number, but now there were few hours of the day and night when we didn't hear them. They came in waves except between midnight and 2 am. It was a joke among the prisoners that this must be the time the English took a break for a cup of tea."

"“I need three hundred prisoners in the next hour for a clean-up detail. Stuttgart is in complete ruins. We must start digging for people and try to establish some order there. I will have trucks ready to pick them up and there will be a special unit of guards to see that no one gets away.”"

"As I gazed at the destruction around me, I imagined other German cities razed to the ground and how many Germans must be going through this same panic. Fires continued to smolder; there was hardly a building left intact. The Allies had done a thorough job, obliterating the city. Unexploded bombs were lying about in the streets. Even after the city was in ruins, still the planes came, again and again. I should have been happy, but I wasn't."

"But one evening after the count, a convoy of trucks arrived at the camp. Jan and I were among the prisoners rounded up and hauled away. It was so sudden that I didn't even have a chance to find Papa and Stanley to say goodbye."

After a few hours, I opened my eyes to find that we had arrived at yet another camp, Unterriexingen."

"The guards that were assigned to this camp were among the cruelest men in the German military, as they had been serving time in German detention facilities for murder, rape and other heinous crimes. The SS purposely recruited these criminals because of their ability to abuse and kill innocent people. Needless to say, they were the perfect people to carry out orders of mass killings and torture. These guards always seemed to get pleasure out of being cruel and finding new ways to torture us. They too, wore a colored triangle on the upper part of their uniforms with one large letter that signified their crime. My triangle bore the letter ‘J’ in bright red, meaning political Jew. That was my crime. But, what did I know about politics? I was only thirteen years old when I began my life of hell in the prison camps.

"These criminals, these guards, were stealing rations from the prisoners and reduced our food supply to such a small amount of bread or soup that more people died from starvation than from being shot."
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"This camp was much different in that there were very few Jews. Most of the prisoners were Christians of different nationalities who had been arrested in their homelands for protesting and fighting against the German regime. There were numerous Catholics. Priests, bishops, and even a cardinal shared this camp with me. Somehow, I felt a little safer by having these Christian people mixed in with the Jewish prisoners. I always thought that we would have a greater opportunity for survival and welcomed this mingling. Still, I was exposed to anti-Semitism from some of the prisoners and often wondered how this could be. We were all together here in this hellhole and yet they kept their bigotry and biases.

"I did, however, become acquainted with a young Christian fellow who had been captured by the Germans on the Russian front. He was a Russian boy by the name of Serge. He had been living in different camps for many months and apparently had been able to adjust to this way of life. His way of thinking and expressing himself moved me deeply. He never lost his courage and was always making plans for when he would return home and to his schooling. He wanted to take up his science studies again and go back to his life before the war."

One Belgian was shot dead by Germans for shouting as an American plane flew low over.

"I wondered if the world would ever know about the countless victims who suffered the brunt of the Nazi regime during the years of 1933 to 1945, not just in Germany, but in all of Europe."
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He was taken with some others, on trucks, to a medical facility, and had a blanket after years.

"“And what is the name of this camp, Ivan?”

"“It is called Neckargerach. It faces the beautiful Neckar river.”"

"Towards the end of March, around 3 am, a group of German guards arrived at the camp. We were ordered to get up and go outdoors for a count. The only thing I had to cover my body was my blanket. I tore a hole with my teeth in the middle of it, and pulled it over my head. With a piece of wire I found on the ground, I fashioned a belt to hold it close to my body. Then we were finally told the truth about the war: the Americans, the British and the French were very close and the camp was to be evacuated at once. We were to be taken to Dachau. I was sure that they would exterminate us now. Would I never be free of this torture? I had died a million deaths, it seemed. This one will be the last, I thought, the last torturous trip. Hundreds of prisoners too sick or too weak to walk were taken on stretchers.

"The German commander announced over the loudspeaker, “You will have six miles to walk to get to the train. You will form lines with five in a group. Lock arms. The two men on the outside of the line will be responsible for the other three. Whoever gets out of line will be shot immediately. I am responsible for getting you to the trains as quickly as possible.”

"Our progress was slow. The women prisoners took the lead, and then followed the long line of stretcher bearers and those like myself who could walk. Alongside were the German guards on horseback with their treacherous dogs. As always, they did not want the citizens to see us, and we avoided the proper roads, though they would have made for an easier and quicker walk. We marched through fields, still wet and muddy from the spring thaw, and many prisoners, sick and weak, stumbled and fell, but a quick sting of a club brought them to their feet again. Many people died on that march.

"I was one of the outside prisoners, so I had the use of one arm. Going past a miserable-looking building, I happened to glance up and saw a little girl who appeared to be about seven years old leaning out of a window. She dropped an apple core, and I reached out my hand and caught it. I was about to eat it when a German guard noticed and knocked it out of my hand with the butt of his carbine. He hit me in the chest. I lost my balance and fell. We were close to our destination so the other four men in the line dragged me the rest of the way.

"Even though I was in a semi-conscious condition, what followed became etched in my mind. When we reached the trains, there were no tops to the cars and they still had a few inches of snow inside. This was our bed. My chest was giving me great pain and I gently touched the place where I had been struck. It seemed like there was a deep indentation and I had difficulty breathing. I managed to tear off a strip from the blanket and with the help of another prisoner we wrapped it tightly around my chest like a bandage. To this day, I suffer from that wound."
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The Germans abandoned the trains in a tunnel, although they'd intended to exterminate them all, due to war having come close.

"We were in that tunnel for six days, some twelve hundred men and women waiting to be rescued. Finally the day came. The date will be forever burned into my memory: April 5th, 1945.

"The Americans finally liberated us. What heroes, what supermen they were to us! Everywhere there was hugging and kissing and in my supreme gratitude I fell on the ground and kissed the feet of one of my unknown liberators."
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"The streets of Osterburken were deserted. The town's population of German citizens had fled. They were not as afraid of the Allies coming as of the thousands of prisoners of war who had been liberated. They feared that there would be retribution, so they left their homes and places of business.

"Since the Americans had not had time to work out some kind of processing system for the prisoners, there wasn't any supervision and a state of chaos prevailed. Looting began and German property was demolished. The shops were broken into and the prisoners took what they wanted. There was no control over this new situation. Many of the prisoners believed that they were entitled to take what they could after suffering at the hands of the Germans for all those long years."

"Suddenly there was a great influx of foreign correspondents and photographers. They were anxious to hear the tales of horror, to tell the world at last about the atrocities that had been going on all those years. We were told to undress and were photographed and filmed. Our emaciated bodies with scars and injuries from the savage beatings were recorded for history. The prisoners recounted their experiences in long interviews.

"We agreed to talk about and reveal to the world what the German Nazis had done to us personally and to millions of innocent people. Many trips were made to view the mass graves and report the validity of these killings.

"The reporters were shocked and horrified when they realized how many had suffered at the hands of the Nazis. It was overwhelming to them, and they were convinced that the world would not believe or accept it to be true. But it was the awful truth. This genocide and torture had involved millions of innocent men, women and children."
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April 03, 2020 - April 22, 2020 -

April 24, 2020 - April 26, 2020.

ISBN 13: 9789492371171 (ebook)

ISBN 13: 9789082103137 (paperback)
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Friday, April 24, 2020

The Price of Time, by Tim Tigner.



The theme of fountain of youth and an eternal life without aging or natural death isn't new, and the inevitable memory it brings despite all the differences is of course that of George Bernard Shaw's delightful work, Back To Methuselah. But other than the concept and a bunch of humans achieving it, there is no similarity with this one. Shaw went with optimism and a determined one, with mind devoted to mathematical thought as his concept of heaven, whether up or here. Tigner prefers Greek tragedies seemingly, or abrahmic punishments for aspiring to immortality. Either way, he goes gruesome rather than Shaw's guilt free delight.
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It begins at Eos, a Silicon Valley scientific research firm, named after the Goddess of Dawn.

Intriguing title, to begin with, and a first chapter that reminds one of more than philosophical rumination about fountain of youth, what with a group of CEOs of Eos, informing their multimillionaire financier, of having discovered halting aging process. The discussion as to why this shouldn't be made public, and the solution, couldn't be faulted.

Until they begin dying, inexplicably.

The third one is clearly a murder, but even before that, at the second gruesome death, the structure borrowed from Agatha Christie's work - titled And Then There Were None, finally, after the initial title Ten Little Niggers was changed to Ten Little Indians for the U.S. publication - becomes clear.

But that isn't all. They realise their having stopped aging might come to notice, so a change of identities is necessary, which have to be real. Which implies they implicitly and explicitly agree to allow the original holders of those identities to be finished off. Which is horrible enough.

And for yet another twist, one of those guys bumps into an ex-CIA close friend from college just before vanishing, but the friend intends to crash in with him, and that leads to the sleuth getting onto the trail of the killer, a sort of reverse of The Neverending Story - it's Atreyu chasing the wolf this time, and he's even named Chase! The wolf is named Tory, incidentally!

And of course, the wolf turns.

So one begins with a bored Hm, let's see, and is soon enough awake, gripped first intellectually and then more, and goes through horror, revulsion, heart pounding, fear, and more.
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After twists and turns, it ends quite satisfactorily, especially the part dealing with the wolf's victims turning around on him successfully, more than once and once for all the final time.
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April 06, 2020 -

April 21, 2020 - April 23, 2020..
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Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Unshed Tears, by Edith Hofmann.




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. ... "
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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. 
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"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."
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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. 
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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."
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"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."
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"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."
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"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."
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"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."
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"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!"
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"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."
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"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."
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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!”"
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"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."
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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."
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"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."
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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!"
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"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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