"The Boy Who Refused to Die - Sevek
and The Holocaust"
Written by Sidney Finkel
Edited by Sue Kelly
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Chapter 8
Deportation
Early the next day the Nazis took up positions
around the Ghetto. Even before the deportation, they amused
themselves by firing indiscriminately at any target. We were
confronted by a highly trained group of murderers.
Jewish policemen passed through the Ghetto
and ordered the residents to present themselves at the deportation
square next to the Jewish hospital.People went to great length.
Some hid in buildings and others checked in to the hospital
and underwent surgery, hoping this would be their salvation.
These Jews were not spared either. They were taken and shot
on the spot.
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The Nazis with their vicious dogs maintained control. People
were being forced and beaten into lines. Men, women and children
were organized into separate lines. Under the circumstances,
no one knew the fate of any line. How could I be saved when
I did not have legal permission to stay behind and avoid the
death train?
I was standing with Dad and Isaac in a line,
when I was told to stand behind the two. They stood close
together and their bodies covered me. I held on to Father's
back, shaking with fear. Every few minutes, I would hear a
shot and a body fall to the ground. It was a bloody sight
with brains scattered everywhere. The screams of the women
and children were piercing. I covered my ears with my hands
so I would not hear.
After a long while, a Nazi wearing high riding
boots and a leather jacket with leather gloves holding a whip
in his hand approached us. Dad and Isaac immediately took
off their caps and showed their working permits. He consulted
his list and gave instructions to leave the square and go
to our working place.
Father and Isaac didn’t move immediately
and as he looked back, he got a glance at me. He came back
and using his whip, beating me over the head and ordering
me to go to another line. Isaac stepped forward and implored
the Nazi to show mercy. “He is my little brother, he
is just eleven.” And then Isaac took something out of
his pocket and put it in the palm of this Nazis hand.
He smiled and ordered
us to go to work. We were saved for the present. We would
live a little longer. Were we the lucky ones?
Chapter 12
Surviving Buchenwald
Even though my memories are vague during this three days journey,
my feelings would not fade. I recall the misery of hunger.
We were all packed together to a point were movement was impossible.
The inhumanity for me is wrapped up in feelings associated
with the itching from the lice, the smell of human waste,
and the total lack of hope.
As the train slowed I heard noises of brakes grinding and
uncoupling of cars. The doors which were locked from the outside
were opened. It was January and the air was frigid but sucking
in the air felt good. I heard shouts from the SS guards to
quickly empty the train. They were accompanied by vicious
dogs that were barking and very frightening.
I felt despair at being parted from my family and yet I felt
I had a better chance of surviving on my own. I had just turned
thirteen years old and had the ability to think on my feet.
Even though I missed my father and brother I could survive
on my own wits and would have more freedom to maneuver. I
didn’t want to depend on anyone else.
We marched into the camp and were surrounded by tall electrical
fence. Every few hundred yards were towers mannered by soldiers
with machine guns. Search lights were constantly moving flooding
the grounds. We waited for hours in the freezing weather till
we were admitted into the processing building. Since the order
was that nothing could be taken inside, my bag with a sweater
and blanket was discarded in a huge pile, I jumped up and
down on my feet to keep warm. After a long wait I entered
the building grateful to be out the freezing weather.
My processing took me to a table. There a man in a prison
uniform with a red triangle asked my name, birth place and
age I informed that I thought I was thirteen but not totally
certain. I was advised to make myself older in order not to
be shipped out with other children. I was given number 113752.
The number was written in ink on my jacket. From now own I
didn’t have a name, I was a number. After the early
processing, we were herded into another room for disinfection.
Veteran prisoners with electric shavers roughly shaved all
my body hair. Next another inmate brushed my entire body with
a chemical that hurt like hell. I gritted my teeth and bore
it. Finally, we were escorted to a large room with numerous
showerheads above us. The adults began screaming and crying
out. I had no idea why they acted in such a manner, but they
soon told me that they were afraid that gas would come down
from the showerheads. I just stood there. Frozen in shock!
I heard one inmate say that there was no gas in Buchenwald.
Relief came when wonderful warm water descended on me. It
felt so great. This was the first shower I ever had in my
life, baths were common in Poland. Next I went to a room where
they dispensed uniforms. I was issued a uniform consisting
of pants, a jacket, a cap and a pair of shoes. They were unable
to find a uniform small enough to fit me. I was still small
in statue and skinny. I was unconcerned about the uniform,
but happy that I was rid of the lice. It was a great feeling
to be clean and not itching.
We were marched to Block #52 which was not all Jewish. The
head of the block was named Wily. Each barrack was controlled
by a head prisoner. Wily was a German political prisoner who
had been there for a long time. Wily had total control over
your life; he was in charge of distributing food and issuing
work orders. He had the option of giving you an easy job in
the kitchen or sending you to the quarry where your chance
of survival was poor. I sensed that he was friendly to the
youngsters in his charge. At this point in the camp, survival
made it necessary for each individual to look out for themselves.
He protected us from the bullies and criminals.
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