Rena's Promise (18 page)

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Authors: Rena Kornreich Gelissen,Heather Dune Macadam

Tags: #Biography & Autobiography, #Historical, #test

BOOK: Rena's Promise
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It is manna from heaven.
"Thank you, Tolek." Danka flashes her beautiful smile.
"It smells like home." I slip the loaf under my shirt.
"Thank you both. I must go." We watch our friend disappear into the men's camp.
The smell of the yeast-risen dough drives our nostrils to distraction. "Come on, Danka, let's go back to the block and have a feast."
Huddled next to each other we divide the bread. This is not the sawdust-and-water biscuit-shit we get from the Germans, this is heavy Polish bread that comes from the earth and has been kneaded by a farm woman's hands. Our taste buds cannot cease watering. I imagine that the whole block can smell it. Our teeth tear at the dough and our jaws hurt after not chewing anything substantial for so long. There is a memory that surfaces just behind my eyes, something about bread and Mama. I push it back. I cannot think about anything dear or sweet right now. Tucking the thought back where it belongs, I continue the meal Tolek has shared with us. There is a constricting pain in my chest and something dampening my cheeks. I chew tenderly, wondering where my sniffles came from and if I've caught a cold, while wiping my nose with the back of my woolen sleeve.
Four
A.M
.
"
Raus! Raus!
"
Roll off the bunk. Stand in line to pee. Get a splash of tea. Step into the dark. Wait on the camp road. Stand for roll call. Get counted. The sun rises. Get counted. Step in line behind Emma. March out to the fields. Work until they say "Halt!" Get soup. Sit down for a moment. Get up. Get in line behind Emma. March back to the fields. Work until they say "Halt!" March in neat rows of five back through the gates, under the words
ARBEIT MACHT FREI
the sign means nothing anymore. Stand in neat rows of five. Get counted. The sun sets. Stand in the dark. Get counted. Go to the

 

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block. Get a piece of bread. Stand in line to wash. Nibble at dinner. Make it last. Lick your hand. Lie down. Wake up.
Four
A.M
.
"
Raus! Raus!
"
At roll call a man called Himmler appears in camp. He must be important.
5
He watches the order in which we line up. The kapos are counted. They are prisoners too. He looks at his list. "One in the ranks has finished her prison sentence today!" he announces. Silence. He reads her name. There are a few shouts and hugs of congratulations among the kapos. We watch, stricken. No one will read our names at roll call, pronouncing freedom. We know this now. They are prisoners. We are slaves. They are human. We are not.
Summer. It is hot. We crave water. We work in the hot sun until we are burnt and blistered by its rays. The wool makes us sweat and scratches worse than before. There is no relief.
There is a rumor that Auschwitz is going to be used just for men again. We are going to be moved to Birkenau.
6
There are other rumors of a gas chamber and a crematorium.
"What is Birkenau?" We do not believe the other rumors, they were started by the Germans to dishearten us.
Four
A.M
.
"
Raus! Raus!
"
Roll off the bunk. Stand in line to pee. Get a splash of tea. Step into the dark. Wait on the camp road. Stand for roll call. Get
5. "July 1718 [1942] . . . Himmler inspects the Auschwitz camp complex, takes part in the killing of a transport of Jews, attends roll call in the women's camp, and approves the flogging of female prisoners. He also orders Rudolf Höss, the commandant of Auschwitz, to proceed faster with construction of the Birkenau camp" (Rittner and Roth, 29).
6. Auschwitz (Auschwitz I) is approximately two kilometers from Auschwitz II, often referred to as Birkenau; they are both a part of the same camp complex known as Auschwitz-Birkenau.

 

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counted. The sun rises. Get counted. Get in line behind Emma. March out to the fields. Work until they say ''Halt!" Get soup. Sit down for a moment. Get up. Get in line behind Emma. March back to the fields. Work until they say "Halt!" March in neat rows of five back toward . . .
Wait! We've turned. We are moving away from Auschwitz.
7
Voices murmur through our ranks. We march. This is a change to our routine. The unknown is dangerous. Eyes vigilant, senses alert, we march away from Auschwitz, away from the walls and watchtowers. The sun sets. There are fences and more barbed wire towering before us. We march under a different gate with the same sign,
ARBEIT MACHT FREI
. We are not fooled. We stand in neat rows of five. Get counted. Emma and Erika and the other kapos go to their new blocks. They have moved with us to this new camp. We stand in the dark getting counted. We are assigned to Block Twenty, or is it Twenty-Two? It is dark when we step inside.
The floor is dirt. There are no bunk beds here; there are shelves, wood planks, three tiers high. We are supposed to sleep here? Where are the mattresses? Our beds look like horse stalls. There is a sour smell of human odor. There are rags for blankets. We stand, squeezing our bread in our hands, unable to cope, unable to move. A girl begins to cry. Like fire in a stable her fear grabs us, and like dried straw we burn inside. Tears cannot quench these flames of disaster. We are lost. This is Birkenau.
7. "August 510 [1942] . . . The women's section at Auschwitz I is moved to Section B-Ia in Birkenau" (Rittner and Roth, 29). "Birkenau was a swamp fenced off by electrified wire. No roads whatsoever, no paths in between the blocks . . . March to mid-August 1942 . . . about 17,000 women prisoners, most of them Jews, arrived at Auschwitz. A large number of them (probably about 5,000) perished before the transfer of women to the camp at Birkenau" (Strzelecka, 401, 394).

 

Page 97
Birkenau
(Auschwitz II)
 
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How will we survive this place? What do we have to do to in order to live? What does this life mean? These are not questions that abuse our thoughts every waking moment of every day, they are simply undercurrents, concerns that cannot be answered. What is there to know? We did not receive a ticket, when we entered Auschwitz-Birkenau, saying, You will leave on such and such a day, you will leave alive. There are no guarantees.
Birkenau is a cruel awakening. In Auschwitz there was a lot of death, but it was not such a daily fact of life. Now we see death every day. It is a constant like our meals. And there are not just one or two girls dying, like before, but tens and twenties and losing count.
1
I know that I must be with my sister. I know that I must make sure she lives; without her I cannot survive. I do not admit that to myself, but I know she is a part of my truth, my being. We cannot be separated; there is danger in separation.
It is colder than it was yesterday, but lately it is always cold. Even in the heat of summer I did not feel warm. We are wet for
1. "Some 15,000 to 20,000, mostly Jews, died during these two months [July and September 1942]. The girls' camp suffered the most, as it was not fitted with sanitary installations, and the poor wretches were covered with lice . . . Suicides were frequent and were mostly committed by throwing one's self against the high tension wires of the inner fence. This went on until they had dwindled to 5 percent of their original number" (Wyman, 32).

 

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