Malka Adler - The Brothers of Auschwitz

After a while we went back to wrapping pipes in the ground.

The next morning began with bad signs. A prisoner two bunks from me ran to the fence and tzzzzt, finished.

Burned in a second. Looked like a striped shirt that fell off the washing line, it all happened even before we stood in line, even before the dawn. I took a good look at the dead man and then two prisoners next to me left us and ran to the same place. Together, the two of them, like a couple, one tall, one with a bent back, they both ran fast and tzzzzt tzzzzt. As if they’d fallen off the washing line. I couldn’t separate myself from the little heap of the dead. I’d also had enough, but then the scream of the SSman reached my ears, stand in a row, quickly, forward march. We filed off. Men as thin and dirty as stained paper. Paper connected to shoes dragging along the asphalt.

I was almost last and didn’t move on the asphalt. SSman gave me a blow on my back with the butt of a rifle. Thwack. I shut my mouth and he screamed into my ear, forward, in line, dirty Jew.

Walk, quickly. Quickly, thwack. Another one, on the pelvis. I paid no attention, let him hit me, kill me, didn’t matter. I already knew that soon they’d take all of us to die in the crematorium. We all knew the method at Zeiss. The method: No food, no water, no place to breathe, no shower, no coat, no medication, just work, work fast, until death comes. It takes about three months to come. In the meantime they bring a fresh, healthy consignment and the old-timers get on a train to the nearest available crematorium. Yes. Three months was enough for the Germans to turn healthy young men into a pile of disgusting rags. Rags should be burned, I thought.

Tomorrow I’m on the fence. Yes, tomorrow. Another moonless night, enough. Was there a moon?

The thought of the fence gave me some strength. Maybe the three gave me the strength to think about the fence. I strode forward and made up the space in the file. And, oops, I unintentionally stepped on the shoe of the prisoner in front of me. He made a cheeping sound and fell. SSman approached us. I grabbed the prisoner’s shirt and pulled him up. He pushed with his hands and rose. I saw he was missing a finger and a half on his right hand. He rocked, rocked, stood. I passed him and began to walk with great strides, like the beginning, when I had the strength of Bloc 8. I passed at least eight prisoners and got back in line.

The first morning light began to cover the fields. We approached a German village. Regular houses with chimneys. A low fence and a yard. A few trees, more flowers, and thin ice on the water, but mainly cold that could bury you standing up. Heavy clouds stood on the roofs of distant houses. Mingled with normal smoke, white smoke, a little gray. I knew German farmers were warm in their houses with their stove and chimney, and their woolen socks.

I jeered at them because of the fence I was planning on, tzzzzt. And that was that. Silver drops spread over the grass at the side of the road. A rotting bird lay with its feet in the air. Tomorrow I’ll be dead. Yes, tomorrow.

Two figures stood by the side of the road just as the morning sun pushed a cloud. One was tall. The other shorter. I remember women’s scarves. The tall one wore a dress. The little one wore trousers. As we approached I saw a woman and a girl looking at us. Holding hands. What do the two of them want, what. Want a show, about wretched people, people who weep without tears, well, here we are. Until that morning I’d barely seen any people, I barely remembered there were any in the world. I knew they were hiding in their houses, I knew. I sensed their glances from behind a curtain, behind a sheet on the line. The children were as far away as possible, maybe they hid them under a bed, so their sweet children would sleep well at night. If I had a mirror to see myself, I knew I’d scream with shock. I didn’t need a mirror, I looked at other prisoners. I understood the village people. By chance the road near the village led to Zeiss. Twice a day a huge file of wretched, stinking, disintegrating people passed by.

The two women at the side of the road looked only at me.

They looked like mother and daughter. The little girl wanted to stick her head in my face. She pointed at me. Whispered in her mother’s ear. The mother nodded, yes, yes. The mother turned to a tall, particularly good-looking SSman. The SSman signaled, halt! We halted. Everyone’s heads were looking down. The mother spoke in SSman’s ear. She whispered in German and pointed at me. The SSman agreed and she gave him a package.

The SSman approached me.

The SSman gave me a package. Ordered: Open it. The whole line was on top of me. My whole body shivered, my hands trembled, I didn’t understand what they all wanted from me, why especially me. I wanted one of the adults to tell me what I should do now and if it was all right to open the package. The adults were breathing heavily with faces like a predatory animal about to jump. Slowly I opened the paper. There was a cooked potato inside. Hot. SSman signaled to me: Eat. I swallowed the potato in a flash. The mother and daughter went towards the village.

The SSman called, march. March.

I strode, fell. Got up. From excitement. My legs tripped over each other. In my head there was a flood. What was this, what.

The prisoners almost killed me with their eyes, and he? He said eat, and didn’t move away from me. I felt I was going mad, that’s it. I was pulling off the stripes on the pajamas, the tracks of the trains and life. In the meantime I scraped my nail against my tongue and found a few crumbs. My belly started making strange sounds, I didn’t know what to do with myself, and why are they confusing me with good deeds.

That night I felt so good and full I couldn’t sleep.

It drove me mad, all that goodness. My heart understood that maybe the little girl saw something the Germans didn’t have time to see. Maybe she saw that I was also a child, that all the men had black bristles on their cheeks and I didn’t. I’d pass my hand over my face, and it was smooth. And maybe she thought they were big and I was little.

Those two stuck in my mind like a silent movie. I saw them waiting in the distance, I approach, closer, closer, the two are looking at me, looking, looking, looking, and hop, I have a package in my hands. I eat. And back again. Closer, closer, closer, they give me a package, and hop, I’m eating, and eating, and eating. I couldn’t stop crying. I missed mother. I missed father. I missed my brothers and sister. Particularly Dov. I wanted to tell him what had happened to me. I wanted to give him half my potato. I barely slept that night.

Morning. I’m the first outside.

From the corner of my eye I see someone running towards the fence. I know him. He slept in my bunk. His brother had watched him for two days. I saw his brother running after him. Talking. I even heard, Nathan, stop, stop, Nathan. Wait. What are you doing, stop. Caught hold of his garment. Wanted to pull him away from the electricity in the fence. Nathan was the first to fall on the fence. His brother who tried to fall back was caught in the fence and was finished. He didn’t really want to die.

In a second, I turned my back on the fence. Didn’t want to see, not that morning. I wanted to go out to work, quickly. Wanted to get to the road in front of the village. Maybe, maybe, again, and maybe not.

Pains started in my belly. I remember as if it was happening now. Pains started in my pelvis, my head. I wanted to run. The file progressed slowly, slowly. A cold wind cut into the flesh. A prisoner with a swollen foot halted. His body rocked in the wind. He slightly widened his bent knees, stuck his heels into the road. Prisoners behind him halted, waiting for him without moving. SSman picked up a stone and threw it at him. It hit him on the leg. The prisoner sighed and continued to walk. The gap remained. We passed a bend in the road, another one, the village was in front of us, aaah. The two were standing there. The tall one and the little one. The little one in a fire-red coat. They stood there, like yesterday. Aligned with a water tower on which hung a rope ladder.