Daša Drndić - Trieste

How did the Germans at Treblinka behave with the victims?

They each had their duties. For example, Scharführer Mentz, Willi Mentz, was in charge of the Lazarett. Weak women and children who couldn’t make it to the gas chambers on their own were killed at the Lazarett. There was a Red Cross flag flying at the Lazarett entrance. Mentz specialized in killing and he didn’t let anyone replace him when there was killing to be done. Mentz loved to kill. I remember, they brought him two sisters, one ten, the other two years old. When the older girl saw that Mentz was pointing a revolver at her sister, she threw herself at his feet and pleaded with him not to do it. Then Mentz didn’t kill the two-year-old, he flung her into the oven alive and shot the older one. Once they brought to the Lazarett a woman and her daughter who was about to give birth. They laid the pregnant woman on the ground, and around her gathered S.S. men to watch her labour. The birth lasted about two hours. Then Mentz asked the baby’s grandmother whom he should kill first, her or the baby. The woman said, Kill me. She pleaded with Mentz, Kill me. But of course Mentz first killed the baby, then he killed the baby’s mother, then in the end he killed the grandmother.

Do you know who Kurt Franz was?

Unfortunately, I do. I also know his dog Barry. Kurt Franz was a savage murderer. One of the worst in the camp.

Substantiate that statement.

The train from Vienna arrived. I stood on the platform as people were led out of the wagons. An older woman approached Kurt Franz, produced an identity card and said, I am Sigmund Freud’s sister. Assign me to office work. I am frail and old, she said. Franz studied the card very thoroughly, and then said, Yes, ma’am. This is an error. Look, he said, here is the train schedule. You have a train to Vienna in two hours. Leave all your valuables and documents, Kurt Franz said, and go and take a shower, he said. When you get back your ticket to Vienna and all your things will be waiting for you. Naturally, the woman went into the bathhouse and never returned.

You were saying, Glazar?

Tölpel. His name was Moritz Tölpel. He was very short, nearly dwarf-like, almost completely bald and a bit of an oddball. So, Moritz Tölpel stands there during roll call, his trouser legs dragging on the ground. He stands there, cringing. Kurt Franz — Lalka — takes his measure, and says: Yes, you’re the one. A Ukrainian guard manages to dig out a smelly old robe from the grisly pile of clothing belonging to the men, women and children who had already been murdered, and tells Tölpel, Put that on. The garment drags on the ground. Tölpel can’t even take a step. He trips, falls, gets up, falls, and Lalka howls, Step, march, one-two! and keeps snapping his whip. Then a guard digs out a black hat that used to belong to a rabbi long since dead, a grimy Halbzylinder, pins a shiny half-moon onto it, then into the tiny hand of dwarfish Tölpel he thrusts a heavy club. A sign will be put on each of the latrines, Lalka says. “TWO MINUTES FOR SHITTING. WHOEVER TAKES LONGER LIVES A DAY SHORTER” Then Bredow hangs a large kitchen clock around Tölpels neck and says, Here he is, our Treblinka “ Scheiss-Meister”, and Lalka howls: From now on you are Commander of the Shit! You are now the grand sovereign over everyone and their shit. Anyone who takes longer than two minutes, do with them what you will!

I am Strawzcynski. Once Lalka was out walking with a camera in one hand and a gun in the other. He didn’t know whether he’d rather be snapping some pictures or doing some shooting. Then he spotted Sztajer, whose back was turned to him. Sztajer was my neighbour from Czestochowa. Lalka took aim and shot Sztajer in the buttocks. Sztajer screamed and fell to the ground. Lalka came over, beaming. Get up and drop your pants, he said. The man obeyed. He was barely conscious, blood gushing from his buttocks. Lalka scowled, shrugged and said, Fuck it. I missed your balls. Then off he went looking for another target.

Rajzman, how did you manage to stay alive?

There were about eight thousand Jews in my transport, brought from Warsaw. I had already undressed and was heading towards Himmelfahrtstrasse when Galewski, a friend of mine of many years, noticed me. He whispered, Go back. Go back quickly. He said, They need a translator for Hebrew, French, Russian, Polish and German, and I convinced them to let you go. Galewski was in charge of a group of camp workers. He took part in the revolt. He was killed. I was assigned to the job of loading. Onto trains I loaded bundles of clothing belonging to people who had been killed. After two days, from a small town near Wa rsaw, they brought to Treblinka my mother, sister and two brothers. I watched them being taken to the gas chambers. Then, while I was loading clothing, I found my wife’s documents and a photograph of her with our child. That is all I have left of my family. That photograph.

On average, how many people were killed every day?

Between ten and twelve thousand.

How many gas chambers were there?

At first there were only three. Then they built another ten. They were planning twenty-five.

How do you know ?

I know. There was construction material on the small square. I asked someone, What’s that for? There aren’t any Jews left. Then someone said, There will be more. We still have plenty of work to do.

Have you heard? says the woman who is now sitting very close to Haya and makes no effort to leave. Have you heard? A bedridden little old lady on Via dei Magazzini was eaten by rats? she says. Do you have a dog? A person needs a dog. Dogs protect us from rats and loneliness, says the lady sitting next to Haya. My dog died recently. Ever since my dog died I haven’t been sleeping well. I listen. I do a lot of walking. I had a nice dog, a golden retriever, she says.

They call the new Pope “Rottweiler”, Haya says. The definition of hyperbolic functions is:

, did you know that? The Panzer Pope Rottweiler.

The lady sitting next to Haya on a bench in the Parco della Rimembranza pretends not to hear what Haya has said about the new Pope, because she has heard. A little later it will become clear that the elderly woman has excellent hearing. Have you read? asks the lady sitting next to Haya, right next to her, on the same bench in the Parco della Rimembranza, their shoulders nearly touching, but not touching, for had they touched Haya would have moved away, that’s for certain, she would have slipped off the end of the bench, Do you know that postmen in Germany have recently been attending workshops on canine psychology? asks the lady next to Haya. The German post office is offering classes on canine psychology to all their staff the lady says to Haya. The heads of the post office insist, says the lady sitting next to Haya in the Parco della Rimembranza, that dogs continue to attack postmen because postmen are particularly attractive to dogs , the lady says, but ever since the German post office has been offering these workshops, the number of attacks has dropped drastically, or so says the post office spokeswoman, a certain Sylvia , says the lady sitting next to Haya. The number of attacks has dropped by half, says Sylvia, says the woman next to Haya, and that has been happening ever since the postmen were advised at the workshops not to run when they see a big dog coming at them. The spokeswoman says, says the lady next to Haya, that some eighty thousand postmen and postwomen attended the workshops on canine psychoanalysis this year, she says, and the exercises included theoretical and practical advice, and the psychologists explained to the postmen that they must not rely on their bicycles, because one cannot escape a chasing dog even on a bicycle, so says Sylvia, the spokeswoman of the German post office, says the woman next to Haya. So the postmen said, Buy us vespas, or mopeds at least, says the woman next to Haya, but Sylvia the spokeswoman tells them that is out of the question.