Imre Kertész: Fatelessness

“How old are you?” “Sixteen.”

“Right, move it!”

“Not for drinking.”

SS NCO rank, roughly master sergeant.

“Everyone out!”—“Get going!”—“Five abreast!”—“Move yourselves!”

“For God’s sake, man, this isn’t Auschwitz!”

“Who rides so late through night so wild?”—Goethe’s Erl-king.

“Attention!” “Caps off!” “Caps on!”

“You’re not a Jew, you’re a Gentile kid.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Work! Snap to it!”

Lignite-Petroleum Corporation.

“Fall in!”

Head of a work detachment or branch of the camp organization (kitchen, infirmary, etc.).

Foreman.

“Two (five, thirteen…) in sick bay.”

“Attention, everyone in the camp!”

“Magnified and sanctified [be his great Name…].”

“Beg leave to go to the latrines.”

“I’ll show you, asshole, shithead, goddam Jew-dog!”

Sick bay or infirmary.

“What? You still want to live?”

“Here, please! I’m done!”

“What about you?” “Oh, me…”

Broken German: “You, wait here. Me go. A moment back. Understand?”

“Two/four corpse-bearers with one/two stretchers to the gate at once!”

“Senior camp inmate, get them on parade! Senior camp inmate, where are the Jews?”

“Sonofabitch!”

“Camp senior inmates! The entire camp to fall in!”

“Where’s the one with the small wound here?”