He was moved to Block 20. They made a spinal tap. He had good care, but there was nothing to be done.
He did leave Auschwitz, but only as smoke from the chimney.
He gave me a message: “Isjago.” If anyone can make sense of it, please get in touch with me.
So (that summer of ’42) saw many losses, but there were gains too.
It was then that new comrades joined our organization, although some of them had been in the camp for a long time: 128 [name unknown], 129 [Leon Kukiełka], 130 [name unknown], 131 [name unknown], 132 [name unknown], 133 [name unknown], 134 [name unknown], 135 [name unknown], 136 [name unknown], 137 [name unknown], 138 [name unknown], 139 [name unknown], 140 [name unknown], 141 [name unknown], 142 [name unknown], 143 [name unknown], 144 [name unknown].
I had been working for several weeks on a block, not going to the carpenters’ shop at all, making the most of the friendly attitude towards me of block chief 80 [Alfred Włodarczyk], who had earlier come to my rescue at difficult moments.
He gave me some “creative” work to do on the block, justifying it to the authorities by the need for official signs on the block roster.
I painted scenes of camp life: “seconds of soup,” “evening foot inspection with a beating on the ‘bench.’”
Out of colored paper I made a kind of picture cut-out, or sticker.
It turned out quite well; even when Palitzsch for once stopped by the block a month later, when I had already left, and ordered all the pictures to be destroyed, breaking the glass into little pieces and even smashing the frames—he took my cut-out for himself.
A new delousing of the camp began.
One day, it was between the 20th and the 25th of August of ’42, as always of late I had not gone to work and was sitting painting on the block. I suddenly saw vehicles carrying large numbers of SS men driving into the camp and up to the typhus block (Block 20—new numbering system).
The SS men quickly surrounded the block.
I have to admit that watching that scene for a moment my blood froze and then boiled. I imagined another reason for the SS actions. But what I was shortly to see, was also distressing.
The sick were pulled out and shoved into the vehicles.
Those who were unconscious and those who were now well, those convalescing having been ill a month earlier but who were still in quarantine, they were all packed into the vehicles and taken off to the gas chambers in several waves.
Everyone in Block 20 was taken away, including those who had recovered and who had stayed on for a few days’ rest; the only exception were the pflegers, who could be recognized by their dress, since for several months all the hospital staff had been wearing clothes that were clearly distinguishable from ours. They were made of white linen with a red stripe painted across the back and a similar one on the trousers.
It was then that Dr. 2 [Władysław Dering] saved a number of Poles, telling them to change, a few at a time, into the pflegers’ whites, presenting them to the commission of SS doctors as tending the sick.
It was eventually pointed out to him that there seemed to be an awful lot of nurses. But since at the end the real nurses, whom the SS men knew, were leaving, they somehow got away with it.
I saw an SS man throwing two small inmates into the vehicles. A little fellow, who was eight years old, asked the SS man to spare him and knelt on the ground. The SS man kicked him in the stomach and threw him into the vehicle like a puppy.
They were all finished off the same day in the gas chambers at Rajsko.
Then for two days the crematoria worked away, with new batches of inmates continually being brought in from the camp.
They did not stop at Block 20, they then took people from Block 28 and then from the wooden hut between Blocks 27 and 28, which had been built for the duration of the epidemic. Then they just picked people out of kommandos.
A commission roamed around picking people from normal blocks where the kommandos lived, taking off to the gas chambers all those who had swollen feet or some physical defect giving the appearance of a weak worker.
Then they set about the schonungsblock [convalescence block] and all the muselmänner in the camp, of whom there were in fact fewer, owing to the influence of “Canada.”
However, what muselmänner there were, were taken off to the gas chambers for “delousing.” From the gas chambers they went by way of the crematorium up the chimney as smoke.
This new expression “de-lifing” caught on in the camp.
The piles of clothing and underwear remaining after the transports of people who came from the free world to give up their lives in the gas chambers, were also packed into separate gas chambers, hung up to be disinfected, in other words for real delousing. From this, any activity using gas, be it of objects or häftlings, was called “delousing.”
A few days later, on the 30th of August, I had a temperature, my joints ached and my calves hurt if I put pressure on them. In other words, just about all the symptoms of typhus. All I needed was the headache, but I have never had a headache in my life and I don’t know what it feels like. I think that I have inherited this from my father, who with some surprise used to say: “...a head that hurts must be really stupid...”
However, since the doctors and my friends said that, whether you like it or not, typhus must be accompanied by a headache, I waited a couple of days.
Fortunately, I was grateful to block supervisor 80 [Alfred Włodarczyk] for the opportunity to stay on the block and I did not go to work.
My temperature was over 39 degrees Celsius and I found it hard to stand upright at roll call.
However, I did not want to go to the krankenbau, for there was no certainty that they would not come again in their vehicles and would not take everyone off to the gas chambers, especially since the illness, with its compulsory quarantine, had to last for at least two months.
This was my second serious illness in Auschwitz.
In addition, I had had a temperature on a number of occasions during my time in the camp, exacerbated by a cold; in the outside world this might have turned into some kind of ’flu, but here, from sheer willpower, or maybe even nervous tension, I fought the illness by going to work.
Now, however, day after day, especially in the evening, I felt that I was not “getting over” this sickness and that I was running out of strength even to walk.
I don’t know what would have happened if, just as the first time, delousing had not taken a hand, but in a different way.
I was worn out by the temperature which had lasted for several days.
The delousing had already gone through all the blocks and it was our turn next.
Despite my temperature rising to 40 degrees in the evening, I prepared myself for delousing, helping the room orderly, my friend 111 [name unknown] (who had made a good recovery from typhus). When the block went off to be deloused leaving only those checking the block, all of whom in half an hour had to go for delousing, then feeling very weak and remembering how difficult it had once been for me to go through delousing while running a temperature, I was not too keen on it.
There was only one way to avoid it: go to the hospital where again they might take everyone off to the gas chambers.
I was hesitating, but Dr. 2 [Władysław Dering] appeared and, seeing that I had a high temperature, he arranged all the formalities for me at unofficial speed, placing me in Block 28 (in the hospital) and pulling me out of Block 25 at the very last moment before roll call.
My temperature had reached 41 degrees and I was very weak—it was my turn to come down with typhus.
The absence of a headache had the advantage that I did not lose consciousness.
Perhaps my bout was less serious, owing to the typhus shot. The first “raid” took place during the first night I spent on Block 28: a couple of aircraft illuminated the Rajsko camp and dropped two bombs.50
Perhaps they were trying to hit a crematorium, but in any case it was not a major operation.
> However, it had a wonderful effect on us. We saw the confusion it caused amongst the SS. Two of the “guards” on the nearest towers abandoned their towers and ran along the wire fence as if they had lost their heads.
SS men ran from their barracks towards our camp in a chaotic mass, looking for one another.
Unfortunately it was a feeble raid and the only one on Auschwitz, at least during my time there.51
For two days my stay on Block 28 was “for observation.”
There, comrade 100 [name unknown] gave me especially kind and attentive care, and spent his every free moment by my side or bringing me lemon or sugar.
Through him I was in touch with my workmates and could control the organization.
My rash, however, was so pronounced that they had to transfer me to Block 20 with its recent grim history.
While I was still on Block 28, Dr. 2 [Władysław Dering] had given me an injection which within a few hours had lowered my temperature from 40 degrees to a little over 37 degrees.
So when he appeared the following morning with his syringe, I joked that if my temperature were now to drop from 37 degrees to 34 degrees, I would doubtless die, and so I refused any further injections.
My body has always reacted strongly to any medicine or shots.
Block 20, after the recent removal of all the patients to the gas chamber, was once again full.
Daily the corpses of typhus victims were tossed onto carts, like so many blocks of wood.
I don’t know if I have already mentioned the fact that all the bodies taken to the crematorium were naked, no distinction being made as to their means of death: typhus, some other illness, Klehr’s needle or a bullet from Palitzsch.
Here, on the typhus block, after the morning disposal of bodies, already by noon and definitely by evening, new naked, blue bodies lay in the corridor, piled one on top of the other, looking like some bloodbath of lean meat.
After an initial rather brusque brush with a fellow who worked here as a doctor, within a few hours I was favorably disposed towards him. Devoted, the man I had as my doctor, 145 [name unknown], thinking only of his patients, the whole day long took care of everything, ran around, bathed, fed, gave injections.
Another courageous doctor here was the kindhearted and also energetic Captain Dr. 146 [Henryk Suchnicki].
In addition, I also received care from comrade 100 [name unknown], from his friend 101 [Witold Kosztowny], who worked here as a nurse with his syringe, or drawing blood for analysis.
Amongst the block’s staff was a member of our organization who worked in the storerooms, my young friend Edek 57 [Edward Ciesielski]. When I began to recover, he would bring me additional portions of pork fat and sugar.
In addition, Kazio 39 [Pilecki’s nephew, Kazimierz Radwański], working with 76 [Bernard Świerczyna], provided me with a pillow and a blanket from “Canada.”
Before the crisis passed, in this great mortuary of the half-living—where nearby someone was wheezing his final breath, someone else was dying, another was struggling out of bed only to fall over onto the floor, another was throwing off his blankets, or talking in a fever to his dear mother, shouting, cursing someone out, refusing to eat, or demanding water, in a fever and trying to jump out of the window, arguing with the doctor or asking for something—I lay thinking that I still had the strength to understand everything that was going on and take it calmly in my stride.
I was thinking that these experiences alone could make one fall ill, and that one could develop too an aversion to this human vale of tears, taking pity on the human body’s imperfections; indeed, one could develop an aversion to sickness itself.
Hence there arose within me an overwhelming desire to leave, to regain my strength as soon as possible.
When the crisis had passed and I felt that I was strong enough to venture down the stairs to the lavatory (hitherto I had been using a rather primitive one for patients on the ward), it turned out that I was so weak that I had to cling to the wall.
It seemed odd to me that not only did I not have the strength to climb the stairs, but that going down was just as hard.
My strength returned, or so it seemed to me, very slowly.
During my period of weakness, on more than one occasion my friends had been ready to carry me up to the attic and conceal me in the event that there were plans to sweep everyone off to the gas chambers.
Klehr walked through the ward a number of times and with his basilisk stare would pick victims for “the needle.”
Here I meet and bring into our organization 118 [name unknown], 146 [Henryk Suchnicki], 147 [name unknown], 148 [name unknown] and 149 [name unknown].
Dr. 145 [name unknown] gave his all in this post, which was so suitable for him, so that there was no need to set up or change anything—I just knew that I could rely on him.
From time to time Dr. 2 [Władysław Dering] would appear bringing me lemons and tomatoes, which he had obtained as usual “on the side.”
I was on my feet pretty quickly. Going down into the yard during my period of quarantine I would talk to my friends through the grille separating the “plague-ridden” block.
Comrade 76 [Bernard Świerczyna] would come to discuss a new “branch” of the organization, which he had just set up; 61 [Konstanty Piekarski] with a plan to escape by tunnelling out of Block 28, suggested by 4 [Alfred Stössel] and begun with the help of 129 [Leon Kukiełka] and 130 [name unknown]; 59 [Henryk Bartosiewicz] with a proposition to amalgamate all new forces and then deploy them with permanently designated commanders for specific groups, which Colonel 121 [Juliusz Gilewicz] also wanted (when changes were made after the most recent delousing).
Then I prepared the following amalgamation and deployment plan:
Because the camp authorities, after the general delousing, assigned häftlings to blocks by kommando, there was no longer any need for the parallel plans for taking over the camp (i.e., at work and in the blocks in camp) and I made each block the basic unit.
Each block was a platoon, that is to say everyone who belonged to the organization living on that block, taking no account of their primary organizational affiliation, henceforth formed a skeleton platoon which, on the “outbreak,” would expand depending on how many men they could encourage, trying immediately to neutralize the pro-German elements.
Block X—inmates on the ground floor, and Block Xa—those on the first floor, at once became a two-platoon company in one building with a company commander on the spot.
Several blocks/buildings formed a battalion.
I divided the whole camp into four battalions.
As overall military commander, I renominated Major 85 [Zygmunt Bohdanowski].
As commander of 1 Battalion, Major 150 [Edward Gött-Getyński] (Blocks 15, 17, 18).
As commander of 2 Battalion, Captain 60 [Stanisław Kazuba] (Blocks 16, 22, 23, 24).
As commander of 3 Battalion, Captain 114 [Tadeusz Paolone] (Blocks 19, 25, the kitchen, as well as the hospital staff from Blocks 20, 21, 28).
As commander of 4 Battalion, Captain 116 [Zygmunt Pawłowicz] (Blocks 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 and 10).
I refrained from organizing the remaining blocks for technical reasons, since they had either recently been filled, such as Blocks 1 and 2, or were being used as storerooms, such as Blocks 3, 26 and 27, or were still under construction, such as Blocks 12, 13, 14, or the special block, 11.
Colonel 121 [Juliusz Gilewicz] approved the plan.
A couple of days later I left the hospital for the camp. My quarantine had been shortened by friendly doctors, who entered a (false) earlier admission date in the camp records.
It was the beginning of October 1942.
I went off to work among five “hundreds,” as usual to the tannery, but not to the carpenters’ kommando where I had been working before my illness, but to the tanners’ kommando (the real tanners), thanks to comrade 59 [Henryk Bartosiewicz] who introduced me to the new tannery kapo “Mateczka” as a tanner who had been ill a
nd was now returning to work.
Initially working in the tannery alongside Colonel 121 [Juliusz Gilewicz] on white materials, then, owing to the friendly disposition of 59 [Henryk Bartosiewicz] and 61 [Konstanty Piekarski], I moved to the drying room, where it was warm since there was a great iron stove there and for four months I pretended to be a tanner, learning this new trade.
Nothing much had changed in the huge tannery.
Daily, several vehicles would bring items left by the people who had been gassed, to be burnt in the tannery’s great furnace. Shoes were not burnt.
Every day a vast number of all kinds of shoes—brown and black, men’s and women’s, children’s in many different sizes— were thrown onto huge piles.
A kommando was formed to sort these shoes into pairs. Someone else took care of burning the other pile of suitcases, wallets, ladies’ handbags, prams and various toys.
Colored wool, which the women had brought with them for knitting, was set aside. It was not burnt. Anyone who could, kept some for himself to make sweaters.
The great tannery furnace, with its factory chimney, devoured everything—the fuel was free and brought almost right to the door.
Those who were doing the burning were able to rummage around a bit in the suitcases.
Sometimes, someone from the tannery would dig into a pile of suitcases in front of the furnace, since it was difficult to take anything from them in the yard under the eye of Erik or Walter.
Again I saw how, in the desire to obtain gold or a precious stone, suitcases, handbags, briefcases were taken apart and shoes, creams and soaps were searched.
The only paper money taken were dollars.
Banknotes, mainly French francs, fluttered all over the yard, blown like autumn leaves by the wind. Nobody saved them, especially given the dangerous searches at the gate. They seemed to us to be quite useless. They were used only in the lavatory.
There was a time when the men from the tannery, “the aristocracy” of all the kommandos, never took less than 50,000 francs when going to the lavatory.
The Auschwitz Volunteer: Beyond Bravery Page 19