Treblinka

by Chil Rajchman

  Ivan once came over to the well where I and another dentist called Finkelstein were washing teeth. Ivan was carrying an auger. He ordered Finkelstein to lie down on the ground and drilled the iron tool into his buttocks. That was meant to be a joke. The wretched victim did not even scream, only groaned.

  Ivan laughed and shouted repeatedly: — Lie still, otherwise I’ll shoot you!

  Among the faithful Ukrainian helpers there are several heroes of this type. Etched in my memory is the Ukrainian we called “Zacke-Zacke” because when beating people he always yelled: — Zacke, zacke! (roughly: Pow, pow!) He has a special whip that is longer than all the other whips. Zacke-Zacke is on duty today. He has special privileges. He chooses the gate as his post. Here the entrance is narrow and it is convenient for him to beat people because he has everyone in his sight and it is impossible to avoid him. Zacke-Zacke is wild. Sweat pours down his diabolical face.

  The workers cry and he beats. In such cases Dr Zimmermann, who knew Russian, would try to distract him. Sometimes that was the only remedy that would cause him to leave off beating people for a while.

  After the episode with Loeffler, Finkelstein had to get up and go back to work. He was a healthy young man. At the first opportunity Dr Zimmermann took him into his room and washed and bandaged his wound. The wound healed; Finkelstein survived till the revolt.

  15

  Life in the barracks. The typhus epidemic. The Lazarett.

  Our life is difficult and filthy. We work from 6.00 in the morning until 6.00 in the evening. After work we are so tired that we fall to the ground exhausted. Not even a drop of water is to be had in the barracks, because the well is far away in the open space and after work we are driven into the dirty barracks, which are surrounded by barbed wire. Around it stands a special watch to guard us…

  Treblinka is guarded by 144 Ukrainians and about a hundred S.S. men. They keep an eye on us like precious jewels. We are counted three times a day. But although every one of us is bruised and battered and every part of our bodies ache, not one of us dares to report himself sick. It often happens that the newly arrived workers don’t know that you must not be sick and must never report during roll-call that you are ill. They are ordered to step out of line and undress on the spot. The murderers force them to do punishment exercises while naked, and then they are shot.

  In Treblinka you must not be sick. Many of us cannot endure it and commit suicide. That is an ordinary event here. Every morning we notice that there are people hanging in the barracks.

  I recall a father and son who had been in this hell for two days.

  They decided to commit suicide. Having only one strap between them, they agreed that the father would hang himself first and after that the son would take him down and use the same strap to hang himself. That is in fact how it happened. In the morning both were dead and we carried them out so that the chief murderer could verify that the number was correct.

  It sometimes happens that as many as seventy workers are brought to us from a new transport. They work for a few hours until roll-call. The next day, at roll-call, they report that they are sick. The section chief assigns them to carry corpses. He hurries them along and makes them carry three corpses instead of one.

  They have to run fast, in step, and at the same time are brutally beaten on their heads. They are so exhausted that they cannot remain upright. After half an hour they are told to undress and are beaten some more. The murderers scream: — You dogs, you don’t want to work! Then they order them to go over to the pit into which the corpses of the gassing victims are thrown. Each of the murderers wants to have the privilege of shooting. They agree among themselves that each of them should shoot several people.

  They are pleased with this amusement and aim at the head.

  Seldom do two bullets have to be used for one victim.

  In the early days, few of us knew each other, since every day new people arrived to take the place of those who had been shot.

  Later the murderers changed their tactics. Shooting workers soon after their arrival meant that the work went badly, since no-one had time to become accustomed to it.

  We live here in filth. We wear our blood-covered shoes and clothes by day and by night we put them under our heads. We sleep crowded together, each one pressed against his neighbour.

  We have been wearing the same shirts we came here with and are covered with vermin. It is impossible to wash a shirt. The criminals shipped hundreds of waggons of clothing out of here, and we have nothing to wear. We suffer greatly from hunger. We receive only a small part of the food that the Jews brought with them. It reaches the point that the workers, finding a piece of bread in the chambers after the people have been gassed, do not hesitate to eat it.

  In the middle of the twelfth month the work becomes more irregular. Fewer transports arrive and the work goes more slowly.

  Many of the S.S. men are on leave. At the same time a typhus epidemic breaks out in the camp, and many of the workers go around with a fever of 40 degrees Celsius. They can hardly stand, but are afraid to report that they are sick.

  At a roll-call, the deputy chief of the camp, Karl Spetzinger (an S.S. man with the rank of Scharführer), announces that anyone who is sick can report to the doctor and nothing bad will happen to him. He will be able to remain in the barracks. At the same time he announces that the barracks located in the back row of the camp will be set up as a Lazarett (sick bay).

  This arouses great fear, but nevertheless many people begin to report themselves sick because they can no longer stand. Over the course of several days the sick bay fills up. The number of sick people reaches about a hundred. I am among them. We lie there burning with fever. We receive no medical treatment. But it is good that we can lie there for a few days. The murderer has kept his word, just like all the criminal promises of the Germans.

  After a few days, at 5.00 in the afternoon, several S.S. men give the order to expel ninety sick people from the Lazarett. The Ukrainians rush into the barracks and drag one person after another from their bunks by their feet. In about fifteen minutes the murderers have dragged out some eighty-odd sick people.

  They are not allowed to get dressed but take with them the blankets under which they have been lying. Of about a hundred sick people, thirteen are left. The rest are driven to the open space. A few minutes later, gunshots are heard…

  We, the remaining few, are convinced that the next day it will be our turn to be shot. We therefore report that we are now healthy, and the doctor orders that we be given underwear. Each of us has to strip and wash himself. The door and windows of the barracks are open, the temperature is 20 degrees below freezing, and we wash ourselves. I want to get dressed, but I cannot stand upright. The same is true of my comrades. It is 4.00 in the afternoon and at 6.00 we have to go for roll-call. We are kept standing for an hour at roll-call, during which time we have to sing. The greatest music-lover of them all is the murderer Karl Spetzinger.

  He also likes recitations. Our comrade Spiegel, a former actor from Warsaw, has to recite to the accompaniment of the camp orchestra.

  After this amusement we are told: — Antreten! Rechts um! (Fall in! Right turn!) We now also have to march in the open space.

  S.S. man Gustav, seeing that several comrades are barely able to walk, orders them to step out and shoots them. One of those called out, knowing what awaits him, steps out with a smile and bids us farewell in a loud voice: — I hope that you all will live to see what I have not lived to see.

  The murderer flies into a rage and shoots him at once.

  I try my best to lift my feet high. With a song we march half-dead into the barracks.

  As a result of the filth, scabies began to appear. Almost all of us became sick with it. Having no medicines, we used ordinary brine.

  From that we get boils all over our bodies. The pain is unbearable.

  But in Treblinka you had to bear and survive that too…

  16

  We prepare for t
he revolt. Passover in the barracks.

  The revolt in Treblinka.

  As has already been mentioned, in the most recent period workers have been remaining where they were for longer than before.

  This has been a great stroke of luck for us. As a result, we have been able to get to know each other better. We have begun to trust one another more and to think about the possibilities of escape.

  We know that this is a difficult undertaking and are even afraid to discuss it among ourselves for fear of denunciation. We examine various possibilities. But the plans are difficult to carry out. We are unarmed and yet we plan all sorts of things. Our conversations take place in the corners of the barracks, and there is always a guard consisting of our own people to keep an eye out in case one of the murderers comes into the barracks.

  In January 1943, fifteen workers from Camp 1 are brought to us. It often happens that instead of shooting people in Camp 1 they are brought to us to work with the corpses, which amounts to the same thing… a swift and certain death. Among the fifteen new workers, there are two, Adolf, a former sailor, and Zelo Bloch, a Czech Jew and an officer in the Czech army, who are devoted comrades. In a few days we become friends with them. They inform us that in Camp 1 they are planning a revolt. In that camp there are more possibilities, since a weapons store is located there. They therefore plan to make a copy of the key to the storeroom and steal weapons. These two comrades are very energetic, devoted and honest. They console us and begin to work intensively. We make every effort to establish contact with Camp 1. It is very difficult, but we make the most of the opportunity created by the fact that several of us work at the Schlauch removing the blood of the murder victims. The Schlauch extends to the border of Camp 1, and there our people come in contact with the Schlauch workers from the other side. We succeed in reaching an understanding with them despite the fact that we are guarded by an S.S. man and a Ukrainian. Our method of communication is the following: a comrade speaks with another from our camp in a loud voice. The people from Camp 1 who are working nearby hear the conversation and respond in the same way — with a loud conversation among themselves. The criminals are particularly watchful to see that we do not speak to each other. I remember one case: after great effort we succeeded in persuading the section chief to allow several of our comrades who had brothers in Camp 1 to meet with them. His permission came with a warning: they may ask each other how they are. There can be no talking about work or about what our work consists of. The meeting took place in Camp 1.

  The conversations lasted at most for five minutes.

  Our comrades came back content. Despite the fact that an S.S. man stood between each man and his brother, and that they were only permitted to speak German, they were nevertheless able to bring back some important news. The news was the following: in Camp 1 they had made a copy of the key to the weapons store and soon they would begin the work of liberation.

  Our joy was indescribable. We, the broken cripples, gained new strength, and each of us wanted to believe that we would succeed.

  In the meantime the work continues. Fifteen Jewish women are brought to us from a transport from Białystok. Some of them are to work in the kitchen, the rest in the laundry, which has been specially built. The sanitary conditions are being improved to a certain extent, and orders have been issued to give us a clean shirt every week, and warm water to wash with every Sunday. Life becomes a bit easier. At the same time a toilet is constructed, and a worker named Schwer, an engineer by profession, is assigned to it.

  He is ordered to dress like a clown. He must wear a skullcap, a long black coat like a rabbi and a red scarf, and carry a black stick.

  In addition he has an alarm clock hung around his neck. This toilet supervisor is given the order that no-one can spend longer than two minutes in his toilet. If anyone sits there longer, he will be whipped. The camp chief often hides in a corner to observe how long people sit in the toilet and if the toilet supervisor is admitting only those who have numbers. We had to have special numbers to go to the toilet, and it often happened that the bandits refused to issue the numbers. You could be close to bursting, but instead of a number you got the whip.

  The murderers like to amuse themselves at the expense of the toilet supervisor. He is constantly being given new things to wear so that he will look even funnier. He must clean the toilet wearing a rabbi’s clothes. In the evening at roll-call he has to stand in his “uniform” and the murderers often ask him: — Rabbi, how goes it with the shit?

  He must answer: — Very good!

  The season of Passover is approaching. The murderers wish to turn it into a farce and give us flour for baking matzo and in addition a bottle of wine. A seder is prepared and the S.S. men come to our barracks as guests. Among us there is a cantor from Warsaw who bakes the matzos and directs the seder. The murderers poke fun at this comedy and after a few minutes they leave the barracks.

  I recall the night of the seder: several comrades performed the ceremony. It was breezy outside, the ovens were burning, and the flames were flaring. That evening ten thousand Jews were burning; in the morning no trace would be left of them. And we carried out the seder according to all the rules.

  The next morning, as we were starting work, the oven specialist turned to us (as if anyone had asked him) and said that he knew very well that our work was very difficult and very dirty as well. So he pretended to ask us if we would like him to increase our number by fifty workers, thereby making our work easier. But he set the condition that we would receive the same food rations as before, which we would have to share with the new arrivals. He did not wait for our reply and said that he thought we would prefer to work a bit harder so long as our rations were not reduced. At the same time he assured us that it wouldn’t be long before we were finished with this Scheisse and then life would be easier for us. Each of us would then receive a new set of clothes, and the work would become less arduous.

  The next day we found out that what we were meant to have said was that the fine, clean life we would have after removing the traces of their criminal activity would be our deaths. The bandit came to us yet again and explained yet again that nothing bad would happen to us. We listened yet again and thought of our freedom…

  We decide together with the workers in Camp 1 to blow up the camp. Not everyone knows. The decision is kept secret. Only the leaders and those comrades who have been assigned special tasks know.

  The plan of the revolt is as follows: everyone will work normally, very carefully, not revealing the least change in our routine.

  Everyone knows what his responsibility is. In order to carry out the plan, each of us must place himself close to his appointed task.

  When we hear two shots coming from Camp 1, that will be the signal for the revolt to begin. All of us are ready. Several comrades are assigned to set the gas chambers on fire. Others have the task of killing S.S. men and Ukrainians and seizing their weapons.

  Several men who work near the observation posts are to try and distract the Ukrainians there with pieces of gold.

  All are at their assigned positions.

  We, the dentists, have the task of gathering as much gold as possible to take along with us. We plan, upon escaping from our camp, to head in the direction of the Treblinka Labour Camp, which lies 2 kilometres away, in order to liberate the Jews and Christians interned there…

  The plans are all in place, but unfortunately there is an unforeseen change: on the day chosen for the uprising, a transport arrives at 5.00 in the morning, and with it many S.S. men and Ukrainians. This ruins our plans and we are forced to postpone our action. We cannot get over this disaster. The fear in Camp 1 is very great, because they now have to return to the storehouse the weapons that were stolen with such difficulty. But they succeed in doing so and happily none of the murderers notice.

  Difficult days begin for us. It is impossible to get anything done because we are surrounded by a strengthened watch.

  In May the weather tur
ns hot and the corpses being torn out of the ground cause the air to stink. The murderers cannot bring themselves to approach the pits. The excavator operators and S.S. men choke on the foetid air. They are forced to change the work schedule, and instead of working from 6.00 in the morning we now must begin at 4.00 in the morning. The roll-call is at 3.30.

  We work until 2.00 in the afternoon without interruption. Then we receive the midday meal. It often happens that we have to keep working during the afternoon because new transports arrive.

  We are constantly being hurried at work. The pits are emptied more and more every day. We let the people in Camp 1 know that if they do not advance the date for the uprising, we will have to do it ourselves before it is too late. We are divided in our opinions.

  One group is in favour of blowing up the camp ourselves. The other group is certain that if we act alone we are doomed to failure.

  We cannot wait any longer. Every day seems like a year. We decide to give Camp 1 the latest date we can accept, and if we do not get a clear answer from them, we will under no circumstances wait any longer.

  We receive from them only the answer that we should be patient and wait a few more days. Finally we receive a concrete reply from Camp 1: the uprising is set for 2 August, 4.30 in the afternoon. We wait impatiently for that day.

  The morning of 2 August is beautiful. The sun is shining. All of us are feeling brave. Despite our fears, we are all happy that the time has come. There is a smile on everyone’s face. We feel new strength, we feel more alive than ever. We go off to work with joy in our hearts, though we tell each other to try not to show it in our faces.

  We prepare cans of benzene, supposedly for the motors. Our barracks leader, who works in the camp as a butcher, asks the camp deputy, Karl Spetzinger, for permission to sharpen his knives because we are to receive a dead horse and the knives are dull. Spetzinger agrees, and Kalman the butcher sharpens his knives and the pliers to cut the barbed wire.