Chapter 20
Many weeks passed and winter arrived, accompanied by snow and constant winds. Lotte was still wearing the prisoner’s dress that barely shielded her against the punishing easterly winds. At least she still had the plimsolls her sisters had given her for her birthday. They had been a genuine blessing during her time at the labor camp, especially during the endless roll calls every morning and evening. Lotte pitied the women who wore sandals or went barefoot, with rags wrapped around their feet as their only protection.
Once again, she stood by Irmhild’s side, doing her best not to stagger or faint. For hours and hours, they stood still, icy gusts tearing at their dresses. She had stopped looking when yet another woman – usually one of the older or weaker ones – fell to the ground. It never took more than a few seconds until an Aufseherin arrived, cracking her whip at the unfortunate soul.
The buzzing sound, though, followed by a bang and a slap and a muttered scream managed to send her off-kilter every time. Any woman too emaciated and sick to get up again was left lying on the ground in the bitter cold. Her frozen corpse would later be hauled away.
Roll call was the most dreaded time of the day because here they were exposed to the moods of the guards, and the vagaries of the climate. At least during work in the ammunition factory – gruesome and exhausting as it was – they spent the time inside the heated factory, protected from wind and ice. Sometimes, the free workers would furtively hand them a morsel of bread or cheese.
Lotte knew that as German citizens, she and Irmhild had been given preferential treatment. Others had to work outside, digging ditches in the fields or carrying bricks. She stuck to Irmhild, seeking comfort and strength in their friendship.
Every day, new women arrived in this nightmarish hellhole, but it seemed like the same number of prisoners perished in this cesspool of sickness and starvation. The vicious doctor attended the roll call for selection every other day. This could mean one of two things: either selection for horrific medical experiments or selection for the gas chambers. At night, Lotte could see the high red flame shooting out of the crematorium chimney, and the stench of burned bodies permeated every inch of the camp.
But the alternative was worse. The ambitious Doctor Tretter was in his late thirties. Working on a groundbreaking advance in treating gas gangrene victims – both to please Hitler and for his treatise to become a professor of medicine at the University of Berlin – he regularly needed new human guinea pigs for his abhorrent experiments.
He usually chose Poles. Those women had been given the nickname Króliki, rabbits, and the entire camp pitied them for what they had to endure. Their screams reverberated throughout the camp, shaking not only the flimsy walls of the barracks but also setting the teeth of everyone who heard them on edge.
Many times, Lotte had tried to block out the screeching sound by putting her hands over her ears – to no avail. After hours of screaming, the women would be returned to their barracks and left to suffer. No treatment whatsoever was given to them.
***
Lotte scratched the wall behind her bunk with a stone. One hundred and five scratches. One hundred and five days since she and Irmhild had arrived.
Irmhild shivered next to her, and Lotte put her own blanket atop her friend. Irmhild had the chills and was burning up at the same time. Her sickness had started a few days earlier, but she had still managed to work through her shift at the factory. On the way back to the camp tonight, though, Lotte had been forced to half carry her friend.
“Typhus,” Verena said after a short glance. “I’m afraid she won’t make it through the night.”
No. No. Irmhild can’t die!
Irmhild weakly opened her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Lotte smoothed what little hair hadn’t fallen out back from her forehead. “Whatever for?”
“For leaving you. It’s my time. I can’t do this any longer.”
“No, don’t say this. We’ve gone through so much – you’ll be fine.” Lotte swallowed back her tears, trying to instill hope.
“I…” Irmhild stopped mid-sentence and coughed.
Lotte wiped her forehead with a wet rag and then started to talk to her friend about better times. When they lived in Kleindorf and complained about the teachers at school. How Irmhild had been smitten with a boy. Their summer days. Eating ice cream at the river.
When she couldn’t think of anything else to say, she looked down at her sick friend, gasping when Irmhild took her last ragged breaths.
I promise, one day I will avenge your death. I will make them pay. For you. For Uwe. For Rachel and Mindel.
Lotte didn’t weep.
The women believed that anyone who wept at night would die the very next day. It was true. She’d witnessed it many a time. The moment a woman couldn’t hold back her tears anymore, her will to live was broken.
She hugged Irmhild one last time before speaking aloud, “She’s dead.”
Two women offered to take on the task of removing Irmhild’s body from the top bunk in exchange for her blanket. When Lotte only nodded, they grabbed her friend under the arms and dragged her towards the door of the barracks. Since it was already after curfew, she would have to lie there until morning, when the corpses were collected and either incinerated or tossed into a mass grave.
Alone now, Lotte wondered how much longer she would survive. She’d arrived at the camp, a healthy young woman on the cusp of womanhood, with shiny red hair and bright green eyes full of life.
And now? She wasn’t much more than a walking skeleton, her skin hanging from her bones like the dress hung on her frame. Her formerly strawberry-blond hair had taken on a grayish-red color and was falling out due to the stress, exhaustion, and poor food rations.
The last time she’d taken a shower was on the day of her arrival, and a constant itching reminded her of the lice and scabies infesting her skin and hair.
This night she didn’t sleep, despite her constant exhaustion. Her mind was filled with memories of those who had already died. She saw Uwe’s smiling face and felt his tender lips on hers. She saw Irmhild laughing with delight as they celebrated having faked the identification papers. She saw Rachel, joyous upon receiving the news that the convent would accept them. All of them gone, save for herself.
How much longer can I survive? Now that I’m alone.
Chapter 21
The next morning, Lotte had to endure roll call without Irmhild by her side. The missing comfort of a friendly soul constricted her chest, and she was cold – inside and out. It felt as if the very flame of her own spirit had been doused with Irmhild’s death.
White snowflakes danced to the ground, covering the camp with a soft blanket. A kindergarten song came to her mind, calling on a white snowflake to make the long way from the clouds down to earth and settle on the window, painting flowers and leaves on the glass.
Schneeflöckchen, Weißröckchen,
wann kommst du geschneit?
Du wohnst in den Wolken,
dein Weg ist so weit.
Komm setz dich ans Fenster,
du lieblicher Stern,
malst Blumen und Blätter,
wir haben dich gern.
But today, Lotte didn’t welcome the white flakes as she had as a child. Today, it meant her dress and shoes would be wet and icy most of the day. One flake settled on her nose, but she didn’t dare to move and rub it away. It sat there, slowly melting, the icy drop sliding down her face until she caught it with her tongue.
As a child, Lotte and her siblings had anxiously awaited the first snow of the year. They would rush out to play, launching snowballs at each other and building a snowman. After hours of play, they’d return home exhausted to the warm kitchen and their mother’s hot chocolate and Christmas cookies.
How she missed her sisters. She hadn’t seen Ursula and Anna in almost a year. They may not even know where I am. She truly was left alone in this hostile place.
Lotte shivered. Her arms no longer had feeling in them th
ey were so cold, but still, the roll call went on – and on. They should be on their way to work already. Lotte almost crumpled with despair. If they arrived late, that would mean no lunch and working extra time in the evening.
She despised the gruesome work in the factory. Each day, she was left with red and burning eyes after peering through a magnifying glass, brazing and soldering minuscule parts, making weapons to help the Nazis kill people.
But on days like today, anything was better than standing still in the assembly yard. At least the factory had a roof and was warm. In summer, it probably became a smoldering hell, if she lived long enough to find out.
Her mind still lingered on work when she heard stomping footsteps and focused on the approaching people.
God, no! Not the doctor, please! Now the roll call would take another hour or so. The vile doctor walked down the line in his shiny boots, thick woolen coat, fur hat, and black leather gloves. She’d give everything to possess only one of his warm garments.
The young doctor stopped every so often to select a woman who seemed too sick to work. All of them would later be brought to the Erschießungsgang, the execution corridor. Once they were shot, the doctor declared them dead and signed the death certificate. Even in the concentration camp everything was written down and preserved on endless lists. Then the dentist went to work to gouge out any gold teeth.
Lotte clenched her jaw at the thought. Bloody bastards, at least you won’t find gold in my mouth. But even without gold teeth, the Nazis would profit from her corpse. Bones were made into soap, hair woven to wool, and the ashes were used as fertilizer for the fields.
The doctor and a nurse approached Lotte’s line. The nurse was wearing the usual uniform of the camp nurses, topped with a heavy woolen coat, fur hat, and leather gloves similar to the doctor’s. Lotte couldn’t see her face, but her posture had something familiar about it.
As the two of them approached, Lotte looked straight ahead, rose to her full height, and bit her lip and the inside of her cheek to make the blood rush to her face. It was a trick she’d learned from Verena to escape selection. A pale face could mean your death. Another thing Verena had impressed upon her was to never make eye contact. Ever.
The doctor came to a stop in front of her, and she knew he was looking her up and down, searching for signs of weakness. Lotte summoned the scraps of inner strength she still possessed and defied every adversity – the icy gusts, the snow, her fatigue, and her fear. She stood like a statue, her eyes boring into the doctor’s chest until he moved to the next woman in line and said something.
“Yes, Doctor,” the nurse said, and Lotte’s head snapped up.
Anna!
Lotte stared straight into her sister’s beautiful blue eyes. Long months of being subjected to cruel punishments for the tiniest offenses kept her mouth shut and her limbs still, despite the urge to scream and wrap her hands around her sister’s neck.
No, strangling is too kind.
Anna’s face showed no trace of recognition. She looked at Lotte as if she were just another prisoner. Another unfortunate soul, dehumanized, exploited, and tortured in every possible way.
I’m such a miserable being, my own sister doesn’t recognize me. For a second, a tear started to form in her eye, but Lotte stubbornly willed it to go away. She’d endured worse. She wouldn’t cry over her traitorous sister and risk dying the next day.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Anna saying something to the doctor, and he nodded.
Anna turned on her heel and said aloud, “Doctor Tretter needs a volunteer for his medical experiments.”
Lotte shivered once and then steeled herself from giving into the bitter cold. How could Anna stoop so low as to help the Nazis with this most abominable work?
Nobody moved, and the yard became silent enough to hear the snow fall. Tap. Tap. Tap. Lotte recoiled in fear, her ability to stand hanging on a thin thread. A woman behind her fell, and moments later, Lotte heard the whip cracking in the air. Then a scream. Then nothing.
Meanwhile, Anna had taken two more steps and stood directly in front of her, staring into her eyes. “You. Number 589452. Don’t you want to volunteer? For a chance to live?”
Lotte nodded automatically, the oxygen leaving her lungs. Her own sister had just condemned her to a fate worse than eternal purgatory. “Yes.”
Everyone around her seemed to deflate in relief that they hadn’t been chosen.
“Follow me,” Anna commanded and walked away.
Lotte obeyed, following her sister to the medical barracks and awaiting the worst.
Chapter 22
Lotte’s chest was heaving with rage as she hurried after Anna, fists clenched and eyes cast down at her shoes...the very same plimsolls the traitorous woman in front of her had given her as a birthday gift. Suddenly, her feet itched as if they were covered in poison.
“An–” Lotte opened her mouth to blast her sister with all of the vitriol these last few months had created in her breast the moment Anna motioned for her to sit on the stretcher in the examination room. But her sister shook her head emphatically and placed a finger over her lips.
What the hell is she doing? Lotte pursed her lips, her eyes blazing anger that needed no words.
“No talking, Lotte,” Anna whispered with a warning glare in her eyes that Lotte knew all too well. If Anna had this look, she meant it.
So, she did recognize me. But why is she here? And why did she choose me? Doesn’t she know that every woman in this camp would rather be dead than a Króliki?
While Anna busied herself doing something on the other side of the room, Lotte sighed and bit back her questions. Moments later, Anna approached, a loaded syringe in her hand. Lotte’s eyes widened with horror. In her former life outside the camp, she hadn’t been afraid of syringes, unlike her sister Ursula, but now she cringed away. She wasn’t sure she knew this Anna person anymore. Was she here to give her a merciful death by means of a lethal injection?
Anna grabbed her arm, swabbed it with alcohol and then injected the liquid into her muscle. A burning sensation spread through her arm.
“This is a typhus vaccine. Pretend to be sick. Do you understand?” Anna whispered.
What? Do I understand? No, I don’t. You just condemned me to death.
Lotte looked at Anna with incomprehension. Typhus was what had taken Irmhild’s life the night before, and once she started getting sick, she wouldn’t be able to work. The Nazis had no use for those unable to work.
Lotte clenched her fists, her ragged nails making indentations in her palms as she struggled to keep quiet. Anna put the syringe away and then walked towards the door, meeting Lotte’s eyes before opening it and mouthing, “Trust me.”
Trust you?
Before Lotte could think of a response, Anna commanded, “Back to work, prisoner.”
The Aufseherin was waiting outside to escort her to where the rest of her work colleagues were waiting. They were worried, but also understandably angry, because due to Lotte’s delay they would now all have to go without lunch and work overtime. Not that lunch was something to look forward to.
Dear God, I hope Anna is here for a good reason.
Trust me. Those words echoed inside her head the rest of the day. She had a decision to make. Trust her sister. Or not.
It wasn’t like she had a lot to lose either way.
At work, talking was strictly forbidden, but at night in the barracks, the other women assailed her with questions.
“What happened?”
“What did he do to you?”
“Does it hurt?”
“I don’t know.” Lotte wished she could answer them truthfully, but she wasn’t even sure herself what exactly happened.
“What do you mean, you don’t know? Did they knock you out?”
Lotte shook her head. “No. They injected me with something.”
“What?”
“They didn’t say. It stung.” It’s a typhus vaccine. Pretend to be
sick. Anna’s words came back to her. She looked at the women, allowing a very real fear to surface. “I don’t know what it was, but it makes me feel weak. Burning up from the inside.”
That much was true.
Chapter 23
Dinner that night was a somber affair, more so than usual. Seeing zombie-like creatures dragging themselves to the kitchen for food was a thing of normalcy, but today many of the women had feverishly glittering eyes and unusually bright red cheeks.
Lotte grabbed her ration of one slice of bread and a bowl full of potato soup. She gulped down the lukewarm soup, afraid the Aufseherin would take it away if she dallied, and felt like a lucky winner when she found a thumb-sized piece of potato at the bottom.
After this meal that wasn’t even enough to mollify the gnawing pain in her stomach, Lotte trudged with everyone else to the assembly yard for the nightly roll call. At this time of the day, she didn’t care anymore. The bitter cold had left her body without sensation, and her only worry was that she’d drop to the ground should she fall asleep.
She knew if she plopped down, she’d never stand up again, despite the beating, shouting, and kicking by the guards. As the guards continued down the line, shouting out number after number and waiting for the answer, an unexpected halt was called to the inspection, and the doctor appeared.
Again? Hasn’t he caused enough suffering for one day?
“All prisoners report to the medical barracks,” one of the guards yelled. “Single file. No talking.”
Cries of alarm filled the air but were quickly quieted by the guards. Lotte cringed even as Anna’s words once again flowed through her brain. Trust me. Did this have anything to do with the typhus vaccine she’d given her?
After hours of standing in line and having blood samples taken, the women were finally allowed into their barracks and fell into an exhausted sleep.
The next morning during roll call, Lotte’s number was called, along with many, many others. They were separated from the rest of the prisoners and herded into the overflowing quarantine barracks. Block 7. The block from where nobody ever returned.
War Girl Lotte Page 10