In addition, we experienced our miracles here. Often we could not believe our eyes. What wonders were created here by the Jewish artisan, by the Jewish engineer, by the Jewish genius! Here, beyond measure, we demonstrated the nonsense of the inferiority of the Jewish race.
It was not just the Jewish bricklayer, the Jewish carpenter, the Jewish locksmith and the Jewish painter who wrought their miracles of art and craftsmanship here. It was also the Jewish chimneysweep, the Jewish drainpipe cleaner, the Jewish well digger, the porter, the railroad worker, the wagon driver. The most menial farmhand and the former estate owner did their duty, and together, they accomplished results that could not have been better.
And beyond this, Jewish manufacturing arose on an industrial scale. Even though the work had to be done without pay, dozens of workstations were created where work took place not just for the Jewish community but also for the Germans, and especially for delivery to the German troops. We excelled in every conceivable branch of production, including paper, cardboard, leather, mica, iron, metal-ware, toys, ink, products made of fur and much else that was in no way inferior to products made in comparable factories in the hinterland.
Many famous artists, especially painters and illustrators were at work in large studios. They produced hundreds of pictures that were then sold privately for millions by the gentlemen of the S.S. One of the best-known artists was a distant cousin of ours with the name Waldstein whom I got to know there. The ceramic workshops also created unique and valuable pieces of art that, like everything else, illustrated the absurdity of the shibboleth of the inferiority of the Jewish artist.
Technology also wrought its wonders that are worthy of standing next to the aforementioned. You must not lose sight of the fact that, overnight, a city of 7000 inhabitants was transformed into one of 60,000. The need for water, electricity and the like suddenly increased tenfold, and help needed to be immediately at hand. A new waterworks, an expanded electrical station, a dozen new artesian wells, a huge cemetery, later on, the aforementioned modern crematorium, garbage disposal areas, a mighty industrial plant with 4500 workers, a large agricultural enterprise, large scale pig farming, gigantic sized manure heaps and thousands of window beds, all these and more sprang forth in the shortest possible time.
From Bauschowitz to Theresienstadt, we quickly built a new stretch of railway. There is nothing to indicate the fact that from the first stroke of a pencil to the last cut of a spade, the railway was built by Jewish brains and Jewish hands. The tracks lead right to the streets in the middle of town.
One fine day in the middle of the Ringplatz at the town centre, a gigantic modern installation for shipping goods to the troops was erected. Soldiers set up huge tents and disappeared again. Within a few days, Jewish engineers in these tents created a major manufacturing complex that reflected the most splendid modern technical achievements. It even had an assembly line that employed a thousand workers.
Various parts were delivered from German factories, assembled here, and then packed into crates under very precise directives. Because of their manual dexterity and because they worked so very hard, women particularly shone at these tasks. People could not believe their eyes when they saw these soft, formerly so well-tended, manicured, delicate hands tackle this difficult, dirty, greasy work, or when they saw frail women drag the heavy cases. A million cases were supposed to be shipped out within three weeks, and this target was met. Overnight, the tents disappeared again and the Ringplatz reappeared.
Our Cousin Martha Fried emerged as a model worker in this enterprise, with a real flair for industrial manufacturing, a talent to which she later remained true. Of course, all who were connected with this enterprise had received certain advantages, especially in regards to food.
I could spend hours more telling you interesting things about Theresienstadt. For such descriptions, however, there is neither enough room nor enough time. I would rather go back to events that I have personally experienced.
Like every beginning, it was hard at first. Whereas the women were still left more or less in peace, or forced only to do cleaning and the like, we men had to do hard labour right from the start, usually with pick and shovel. It was especially hard for those of us who were not used to it. Such days absolutely refused to end, and the hours crept by at a snail’s pace. At the same time, Hunger gnawed at our guts and grew ever stronger until it was an unending pain. Because they were ludicrously spare for someone doing hard labour, even the meals did nothing to soothe the pangs.
We (I walked hand in glove with my brother-in-law Eduard in those days) deliberated long and hard about which measures to take. Simply folding our hands in our laps and waiting for events to unfold was not in our nature. Something had to be done, and somehow, we had to get out of this precarious predicament. For lack of other options, we therefore reported for railroad building duty where the work was equally onerous, but was rewarded with double the share of lunch.
Our ploy did not succeed because there were no available spots, but at least in the process, I attracted the attention of the head of the Labour Office who asked me to work with him. This was an unheard of stroke of luck, and an advance in rank such as had never before occurred, this move to a respected office position after only a week of hard labour.
I then became division leader, the commandant of a work crew consisting of fifty men. My main responsibility was to select people for individual jobs for which we received daily written orders from the central Bureau of Labour that controlled over 30,000 workers. You can best picture the latter as a ministry that reported directly to the S.S.
My responsibilities were far from onerous. Aside from the dispatch of workers morning and afternoon, I only had a few entries to make and various lists to keep up to date. The rest of the time, I could idle away.
Aside from this influential role within the barrack, there was another great advantage connected to the position. I had a permanent overtime pass because I had to be available in case of necessity to work at any hour. Since the night hours were figured into my working time, this gave me the highest claim to premium bread. That was a huge benefit because this premium amounted to as much as an entire normal ration of bread. In other words, I got a double portion of bread.
Then, after a while, when I advanced to division leader for a hundred men, another very valuable advantage was added. I was officially authorized and registered with the S.S. and was thereby sheltered from being on the transport list.
Despite all these advantages, I gave up the job. When the opportunity presented itself, I threw myself into the social domain within the same Labour Office, because the job as division leader had also had its huge drawbacks. There were jobs that were positively a pleasure and where people even got presents or food. There were easy jobs, hard jobs, and extremely hard jobs. There were jobs that were absolutely awful, like standing in water all day, and there were some jobs that were life threatening. The latter was especially the case in the so-called Small Fortress. Located about two km from the ghetto, this old fortification dated back to the time of St. Theresa. It had been converted into a small but all the more gruesome concentration camp where five thousand men had been quartered.
Our people worked in the garden there under the surveillance of S.S. gardeners who were known for the sadistic way they treated our poor boys. Countless blows, sometimes with wooden lathes or iron bars meant that almost daily, some boys came home with blood streaming from their wounds. Others were shipped back to the ghetto, forever crippled.
On the second day after my arrival. I myself had one of my worst experiences in the Small Fortress. The S.S. supervisor put me to work pumping excrement. Under his shouts and threats, I had to work the pump for one and a half hours, smoothly and without interruption. Of course my strength often failed me, and I believed my last hour to be nigh. However, the human body can endure the unbelievable when the end seems near.
It was to such tasks and to similarly unpleasant ones that I was supposed to
, and indeed had to order my poor guiltless colleagues. Often I had to send them out at night and in rain and storm, and I just could not bring myself to do these things. Thus, I used the first chance I got to do something else. When my boss was entrusted with establishing a new Office of Labour in a newly opened barrack, he asked me to become his assistant. Since he gave me free choice of my field of endeavour within the operation, I chose the area of social welfare and became the operations controller. This meant that I was responsible for supplying the workers with every conceivable remedy, relief, and bonus, even the ordering of clothing and shoes, and above all, improvements in food.
I had to fight for all these things in the different offices and do battle for them, sometimes even with the Germans. But I got good results, and the workers everywhere were granted their first and best advantages. We managed, for example, to get an allowance for double lunch rations for those doing hard labour, and for the others to get all the leftovers from the kitchens after the allotted rations had been distributed.
It goes without saying that in this distribution of food, I did not go hungry. Nor did Vera who was my daily guest for supper. In this respect, we had all we needed.
After a few nice months, this came to an end. Still, the dear Lord did not abandon us. As always, He helped us, sometimes on the very day that we thought it was the end, the very day that the ghosts of Danger or of Hunger stood directly before us. Once, a friend whose father was at the Office of Domestic Affairs got me a second ration card. Later, Vera and I managed to share a room with a colleague in what used to be a small vestibule of a non-commissioned officer’s place. The three of us had furnished it very nicely and we lived together. This colleague was friends with everyone in the kitchen. He was able to come and go every day with so much food that all of us, finally including his mother and Vera had enough to eat. We lived idyllically in that little room where there was scarcely space for two beds, a table, and a few other pieces of furniture, which I made with my own two hands out of boards that I personally had stolen.
In time, thanks to my inventiveness and my experience of carpentry as a hobby, there were all kinds of forbidden and therefore secret and hidden luxury items like an electric stove, an electric iron, a reading light by the bed, moveable room dividers, etc. In time, we got quite used to this dog’s life despite its often-unbearable discomforts.
Among these discomforts were the vermin with which we conducted a constant battle. We young ones were able to rid ourselves readily of lice, but we had to battle uninterruptedly against the millions of fleas and bugs that otherwise multiplied so rapidly that it was impossible even to think of sleep. During this time, I so thoroughly learned the idiosyncrasies of these dear little creatures— their habits, their breeding cycles, their loves, and their customs — that I could have made my debut as a specialist in the flea and bug business, and I could have predicted the behaviour of every single beastie.
But here, as always, the human spirit, the capacity for thought, the ability to keep the benefits of experience in one’s brain prevailed. At least in the short run, we mastered these infestations, even if sometimes with difficulty and at the cost of gassing entire barracks or house blocks. Vermin preoccupied us incessantly.
Laundry, for example, was a serious problem. Some gifted experts kept the small facility that had once served as a military laundry operational without a break, day and night, raising its capacity to an unbelievable 1000 kg a day. Still, what was that compared to the needs of a town of 60,000 people?
This meant no more than 2 kg per three-month period for the ghetto inmates, which is not even one change of underwear a month, and it includes no bedding, etc. It was impossible to do laundry at home. We barely had enough soap for washing our bodies.
Now I will close this report. In the meanwhile, it is already July 18 and Otto and I are going on holidays. Even though I have only been working for six weeks, I have two weeks off and Otto has been demobilized. We are going to Trebitsch to see Martha, the only one of our relatives to have been saved. Otto wants to go from there to Strobnitz, Vienna, and to Linz to check into what can be learned e verywhere.
Assuming that the experiences I have delineated and the descriptions will really be of interest to you, I will continue my reports when we get back. For today, my dear ones, sincerest regards, hugs and kisses from your faithful old Arnold.
————
FOURTH LETTER
Prague, August 5, 1945
New Address—XII, Manesova 32
My dear ones,
Now we are safely back from our holidays and I want to continue my description. It was very nice in Trebitsch. Martha looked after us in a touching way, as if she needed to replace both our mother and our sisters. She cooked the very finest foods, all the things that we had dreamt about and talked about while we ate the wretched watery soup as Hunger rolled about in our intestines. Here once again were schnitzel, apricot dumplings, white coffee with cake, and all the things that by unanimous consent used to occupy the place of honour in our incessant talks about food.
In other ways too, our dear relatives ensured that we felt completely at home and that we found a replacement under their roof for the homeland and for the parental home that we had lost.
We also enjoyed the pleasures of life in the country. We took long walks, we went swimming, and we wandered in the woods. I regained the feeling and the consciousness of being a free human being and not one of the debased, the hated, the ones who had been cast out. It did me good to see that my very presence could bring pleasure to my relatives.
Unfortunately, the few days passed all too quickly and I had to go back to work in Prague. Perhaps I have not yet told you that hardly a week after my arrival in Prague, I went back to work at Parik’s, my old firm. I did this even though I was still a convalescent and I could have used the time to accomplish a thousand errands that remain, including going to all the different offices to cut through the red tape needed to get lodgings. However, I went on the assumption that work would be the best remedy for my pain and for my solitude, and I was not mistaken. I have a good job, and every day, I have a mountain of work that I very much enjoy. At least filling that position in the factory gives me the feeling that my presence has some purpose.
Otto wanted to go to Vienna but only got as far as Bratislava when he had to turn around again. There is still no connection to Vienna and above all, there are no bridges over the Danube. Monday he wants to go to Strobnitz with Walter Waldstein’s widow whom we accidentally met on the street the other day. So poor Walter is also dead, even though when we were together in Auschwitz, he was still a strong young man.
Now we have an apartment again. Our old one is occupied, so I had to tread the thorny path of acquiring a new one, a path that required endless patience and was entangled with hundreds of disappointments and countless difficulties. I had begun to despair, but Otto was a trusty companion at my right hand. He ran countless errands for me with military precision, tasks for which of course his British military uniform came in very handy.
The new apartment is not nearly as nice as our old one. It only has three rooms, and the furniture is modest and old, but it is quite well located and my requirements these days are not very great. The apartment (the furniture, the dishes, etc.) are gratis, of course, a replacement for our old things, which the Germans stole from us.
I live in the new apartment with Vera’s mother who at age 71 is still active and energetic. She will run the household without even a maid, since this kind of work no longer exists here since the overthrow. Otto wants to stay with us for two or three weeks and then he will travel on to Paris.
My dear ones, in the last few days we have received three parcels from you, for which I must express my sincerest thanks. The first one contained mostly chocolate and sweets, the second and third ones that had Anny as sender contained cheese and honey, sugar, flour, and little tins of meat and cocoa. As you can well imagine, for me all these things are treats that I ha
ve not known for a long time, and they represent a very welcome addition to the still rather limited foods that are available here. So again, please accept my sincerest thanks for these gifts and be assured that I will never forget this loving deed.
Nor can I fail to appreciate the spiritual impulse, the consoling awareness that even if I am separated from you by an ocean, still, I have in you next of kin who are concerned for me and who care for me because I am family.
Now I want to continue my description of Theresienstadt. As time passed, we got fairly used to this degrading dog’s life. With the deadening of the senses and the habituation that occurred, we did not even perceive the unpleasant circumstances as being so terrible. Later, from the perspective of Auschwitz, we looked back on There-sienstadt as paradise. In time, the conditions also improved a bit.
Above all, there was no shortage of distractions of every kind. There were numerous lectures by renowned professors, courses, concerts by first-class virtuosos, several improvised cabaret groups, even a top-notch theatre and an opera ensemble of a quality unsurpassed on any big-city stage. Even if it was with stomach growling with hunger, with underwear stiffened by dirt, and seated next to a neighbour crawling with lice, we could sit in a theatre, concert, or open-air cabaret just as we did in the best of times at home.
There was also a valuable library that enabled us to enrich our knowledge. There were even holidays of a sort, since those of us in the Bureau of Labour assigned people who had been doing hard labour for over a year to light agricultural work. Later, I advanced to a higher and more respected position as Master for Care and Control in the central Division of Labour. I had a large, bright office in the Magdeburger barrack that housed all the bureaucratic offices, a secretary, an assistant, and lots of business traffic the whole day through. I visited all the industrial enterprises and workshops, received all the requests of supervisors and workers, and played the role of the generous uncle from America who fulfills the wishes of his 5400 children to the best of his ability.
Letters From the Lost Page 20