The Auschwitz Volunteer: Beyond Bravery

by Captain Witold Pilecki

  The kapo, sitting at the table, was clearly surprised and uncertain, but before he could come to a decision, Jasiek began whispering to him and smiling. The kapo smiled too, but continued to say nothing. (Later Jasiek told us that he had spoken more or less as follows to the kapo: “Kapo, here’s a couple of chumps who’ve been taken in; they think that they’ll fill up on bread in the bakery and that we have an easy job. Let me have them on the night shift and I’ll show them what’s what,” he showed a huge fist, “so that one night in the bakery will be enough for them.”)

  Meanwhile, to mark our new friendship, we handed over to the kapo an apple, sugar and some jam, which I had from a parcel received from home.

  The kapo smiled at Jasiek, then looked at the apple and the sugar. Maybe he was sizing us up as a function of the parcels we might be able to give him in the future. Then he looked at us and finally said:

  “Alright then, let’s see what sort of bakers you are.”

  The bell for roll call which, given that this was a holiday, was held before 11:00 a.m., cut short any further conversation with the kapo and put off an intimate conversation with Jasiek.

  The roll call passed off without incident or confusion. For the time being the numbers tallied.

  Standing there in my rank I thought that if everything went as planned, then this would be my last roll call in Auschwitz. I reckoned that I had had about 2,500 of them.

  And what a wide range of them; different years, different blocks.

  Yes, the camp régime was continually becoming milder...

  After roll call, the three of us gathered on top bunks in the bakers’ room and talked loudly about food parcels, and this and that, since unknown häftlings were sitting all around us. However, from time to time we did discuss the matter which for us was critical.

  Jasiek, who immediately got on famously with Edek, pretended that he was interested in us because of our Easter parcels.

  The idea was to go to the bakery that very night, as our plan to deceive the authorities wouldn’t stand up for long. Moreover, I had to be invisible to my friends in Block 6 and the workers at the parcel office, since news from them that I had been seen in camp in full health would certainly have attracted the attention of the kapo and the head of the parcel department, which could have led to me sharing Olek’s fate.

  It was still to be expected that the bakery kapo would mention us to the block chief and that it would emerge that neither of them knew us. Therefore, we had to move fast and take care of every problem.

  Eight bakers went to the bakery for the night shift.

  It had been established that eight was the number needed in the bakery at night. That was what had been entered in the blockführerstube [SS guardroom] at the gate and it could not be changed. In any case, we could not change it.

  The night shift consisted of inmates who had no intention of giving up their spot for anyone.

  On the plus side was the fact that Jasiek was already on that shift, but two other slots had to be found. The trickiest bit would be to convince two bakers, without arousing suspicion, not to go to work that night and let us take their places.

  They were suspicious and afraid that we wanted to take their jobs. Who knows, maybe we were good bakers (we had not wanted to pretend that we weren’t), and the kapo would kick them out of the bakery and bring us on full-time in their place. We argued that the automated bakery was about to be set up and that everyone would be needed.

  That we were “old numbers” who knew how to find ourselves another spot, especially if they were telling us that this was not so great and that the work was hard, we’d go just the once, we’d see what the work was like and if we didn’t want to go again, we’d find ourselves another spot.

  It’s difficult to be specific here about all the arguments and methods we used, at the same time we had to pretend that we didn’t care all that much while pushing forward the sugar, the gingerbread, the apples. We gave out all the parcels we had, with the exception of a small jar of honey, which I had got from home.

  It was hard work.

  We had long before decided that we could not return from the bakery, since first of all I would be sent to the Penal Company (for changing kommando without permission), then it would be apparent in the bakery that we were not bakers, we would never again be taken on to work there, and the kapo would kick us off the kommando.

  But in order not to be able to come back, one first had to get out.

  And now there was no space on the night shift.

  About three in the afternoon, one of the bakers finally agreed to give up his place just for the one night, but we still needed another place.

  Meanwhile I had been running around to friends for various items. I went around very carefully to Block 6 for some essential things, supposedly for Platoon Sergeant 40 [Tadeusz Szydlik] (Block 18a) who was sick and who knew of my plan. There I changed my boots twice.

  I went over to First Lieutenant 76 [Bernard Świerczyna] (Block 27), who gave me some warm underwear for the journey, and for me and Edek navy-blue ski pants which we put on under our clothes.

  My friend 101 [Witold Kosztowny] (Block 28) gave me a navy-blue windbreaker for the journey.

  We were running out of time and there was still room for only one of us in the bakery.

  Running with a pair of high boots which, after trying them on, were unsuitable because they were uncomfortable, I almost bumped into the Lagerältester [Head Inmate]. I left them in the corridor of Block 25 by the block chief 80’s [Alfred Włodarczyk’s] door, and, for lack of time, did not go in to explain. Rushing out of Block 25 I bumped into Captain 11—,66 whom I bid a warm farewell without any explanation.

  I partially changed on Block 22 in the presence of Colonel 122 [Teofil Dziama], Captain 60 [Stanisław Kazuba] and 92 [Wacław Weszke]. Watching from a top bunk as I hastily put on the windbreaker and ski pants under my camp “stripes,” they worriedly shook their heads and Captain 60 [Stanisław Kazuba] amusingly said his favorite phrase: “Errrr, I dunno about this!!”

  I then said goodbye to my friend 59 [Henryk Bartosiewicz], who gave me a few dollars and German marks for the journey.

  I made the rest of my preparations for the journey on the top bunk of my friend First Lieutenant 98 [name unknown]; Officer Cadet 99 [name unknown] was right there, but sleeping soundly and I did not want to wake him.

  On Block 15 it was some minutes past 17:00 when we finally found a baker who agreed to give up his spot—whether because he wanted to have a couple of “old numbers,” rich inmates, as future friends, or because he just wanted to rest that night—and who took us at our word that we were not pulling the wool over his eyes and would not take his job.

  By 18:00 we were ready.

  Jasiek put on some civvies that I had managed to wangle for him some time before from First Lieutenant 76 [Bernard Świerczyna] who, as an unterkapo, was allowed to go to work outside the camp in civilian clothes.

  He had wide bright stripes painted on his shoulders and around his waist with red paint (to prevent a häftling escaping, he was visible at a distance).

  Obviously, no one knew that 118 [name unknown] had painted those stripes not with varnish but with water-soluble paint.

  At 18:20, the SS man on the gate called out in a carrying voice: “Bäckerei! [Bakery!]”

  On this signal all of us on the bakery night shift ran out of Block 15 and rushed over to the gate.

  It was a sunny day. The camp had the day off. Inmates were taking a walk. Running from the block to the gate I came across a few fellows who stared at me in surprise, wondering where I was off to with the bakers, since I had such a good job in the parcel office.

  I recognized First Lieutenant 20 [Jan Kupiec] and Second Lieutenant 174 [Jan Olszowski], but I wasn’t bothered—they were my friends.

  In front of the gate we lined up in two ranks, ready to march out. Right until the last minute we weren’t sure that one of the bakers who had given up his spot for us would
n’t change his mind and run over to the gate.

  Then one of us newcomers would have had to stay behind.

  The remaining two would have had to go without him, for even if they had wanted to back out, they could not do so at the gate.

  But eight of us, the right number, were there.

  As many as five SS men surrounded us.

  As we were being counted the Scharführer [SS equivalent to a Staff Sergeant] called out from the window of the blockführerstube [SS guardroom] to our escort: “Paßt auf! [Be careful!]” Did they know something? There was in fact another reason. It was a Monday, when a new bakers’ escort took over for the whole week.

  We set off.

  I thought then about how many times I had gone through the gate, but never like this. I knew now that I could not return under any circumstances. I felt joy and as if I had wings. But it would still be some time before I could use them.

  We marched along the road by the tannery. I had not been there for a long time. Walking by, I kept looking at the tannery’s buildings and yard, running through in my mind all the jobs I had held there and the faces of the lads, some of whom were no longer alive.

  Where the road we were following from the camp arrived at the road on which stood the little town’s houses, we split into two small detachments. Two bakers and as many as three SS men went to the right towards the bridge and the “small bakery.”

  The disproportionately heavy escort for those two and the light one for us, since only two SS men continued with six inmates, was due to the fact that those three SS men were planning some holiday booze-up.

  We marched off to the left. I eventually saw the “large bakery,” the day shift of bakers coming out to greet us and the great menacing studded door, which would be the scene of our life-and-death struggle that night.

  Inside the bakery on the left was a separate room holding coal. There we stacked our clothes, undressing completely owing to the high temperature.

  It was pretty dark in there.

  We each stacked our clothes, separating them into those we needed to take and those we would leave behind: our “stripes.”

  One of our two SS men, the smaller one, as if scenting something, immediately began inspecting the door, shaking his head and saying it was not secure enough.

  The eloquent Jasio smilingly began to convince him that it was in fact the opposite.

  The heavy, studded door was closed with a great lock, the key to which the SS man was carrying on his belt, a spare key hung in a recess in the wall, behind glass which had to be broken to retrieve the key.

  The SS man’s suspiciousness was fuelled perhaps by instinct, but also by the sense of duty, which the new guard (like a new broom) wanted to demonstrate on the first day.

  In this respect, Monday was not an ideal day.

  By the end of the week the SS men had become more used to the workers and were less likely to be vigilant.

  A new guard did have the benefit though of coming, like Edek and me, for the first time and, not knowing that we had just arrived and that we were new, made no distinction in supervision between us and the other inmates.

  What did we do in the bakery?

  Civilian bakers, who came in from town and who also worked in two shifts, were in charge of the actual baking.

  Over the course of a night we were meant to bake a specific number of loaves of bread. A baking team which did not complete the designated number of loaves at work went to the bunker—civilian bakers and inmates alike.

  Therefore, everything was done at the double.

  Over the course of a night we were meant to finish five batches. We were to put the bread in the ovens five times and then take it out five times.

  We were going to try to escape from the bakery after the second batch, for after the first one it would be too soon.

  Meanwhile the first, second, third and fourth batches came and went, and we still could not leave the bakery.

  Just as when one plays solitaire, the cards have to fall a certain way and you have to sort and shuffle them for the game to work out, so here too, with bakers rushing around getting flour, sawdust, coal and water, and carrying off the baked loaves, our paths kept crossing in different directions, complicated by the SS men on duty walking about; the cards would have to fall so that at one given moment we would be near the door and out of the line of vision of both the SS men and the other bakers.

  And the stake for this game of solitaire was—our lives...

  We were locked up in the bakery in order to complete the task which had to be done quickly, and we could not get in the way of the other bakers. We were drenched in sweat owing to the great heat. We drank water by the bucket.

  We were able to lull the SS men and the bakers by giving the impression that we were doing nothing but work.

  In our eyes we were like wild animals locked up in a cage, using all their cunning to create the conditions to get out of the cage that very night.

  The hours were passing... the “solitaire” was—not working out... for the time being it was impossible to set up an escape...

  Opportunities came and then went.

  The nervous tension lessened, then increased.

  The door was in full view. The SS men walked back and forth right by it.

  It was impossible to open the padlocked window, since there was always someone nearby.

  When after midnight we passed from Monday to Tuesday, things became a little more relaxed.

  One of the SS men stretched out and went to sleep, or at least pretended to. In any case, he was not walking about.

  The bakers were also exhausted.

  When around two o’clock the fourth batch was done and only one remained, the bakers took a longish break and had something to eat.

  The three of us were on edge.

  Janek had discreetly started to dress. Edek and I covered his movements by, out of apparent zeal, carrying coal and then water to get ready for the final batch.

  In reality we were preparing ourselves for the final effort—to escape.

  Then, seizing a moment when the SS man was walking away from the door towards the main baking hall, Janek, counting on the fact that he would not turn around for two or three minutes, slid out fully dressed and quickly undid the nut, which easily gave way under Janek’s iron grip; he pushed the screw together with the hook, which fell on the other side of the door.

  When the SS man returned, Jasio disappeared into the coal bunker.

  We were using wheelbarrows to carry the coal.

  During the SS man’s next round and when he had his back to the door, Jasio quickly and silently slipped back the two upper and the two lower bolts. We with our wheelbarrows took turns to screen him from view.

  The exhausted bakers were all sitting or lying in the baking hall.

  The bolts took more time than had the nut.

  Jasiek went fully dressed to the lavatory by the door in full view of the SS man who did not react to the fact that he was dressed, perhaps, as a newcomer, thinking that this was normal in the morning.

  For the time being things seemed to be going well.

  Suddenly, the unexpected happened. Driven by some sixth sense or simply on an impulse, the SS man walked over to the door and stood in front of it, about half a meter away, and began to inspect it.

  I had put down my wheelbarrow about 4 meters behind him. Edek also froze by the coal.

  We were both waiting for the SS man to shout out loudly, whereupon, as if on a command, we would rush him, immobilize him and tie him up.

  Why did he not notice anything? Did he have his eyes open, or was his mind on other things? I have never been able to understand.

  I daresay that the following day in the bunker he must have racked his brains about that one.

  He turned away from the door and calmly walked off towards the ovens and when he was about 6 meters from the door, Jasiek slipped out of the lavatory, I quickly made a dash for my things and with Jaś I pushed h
ard on the door.

  At that moment Edek, right behind the SS man’s back, dashed quickly and quietly with a knife to the bed with the sleeping SS man and cut the telephone wire in two places, taking the piece of wire as a souvenir.

  Meanwhile the door, which Jaś and I were pushing, bent outwards, but would not yield.

  The SS man was walking away from us and was now eight, and a moment later nine, meters away from us.

  We redoubled our pressure on the door, which kept bending, but still would not yield, for after all we had never opened it and we had no certainty that it would open. Had we thought of it, we would surely have broken out in a cold sweat, but there was no time for fear.

  Meanwhile Edek dashed from the SS man’s bed to the coal bunker for his things stashed there.

  Jasiek was strong, and my strength was doubled by all the nervous tension, but the door seemed stronger than us...

  We put everything we had into that door when... suddenly and noiselessly—it flew open before us...

  ABM

  Jan Redzej (Pilecki’s comrade—code no. 170) —Inmate No. 5430.

  ABM

  Edward Ciesielski (Pilecki’s comrade—code no. 57) —Inmate No. 12969.

  Cold blew on our heated heads, the stars twinkled in the sky as if winking to us...

  This all happened in the blink of an eye...

  A leap into the dark unknown, followed by a dash, Jasiek, me and Edek in that order.

  At the same time shots followed us.

  It’s hard to judge how fast we were running. The bullets missed. Our legs, arms and bodies tore at the air.

  When we were more or less 100 meters from the bakery, I began to call out “Jasiek! Jasiek!...” But Jasiek continued to charge ahead like a racehorse. If I could only catch him... grab him by the shoulder... and stop him... but the distance between the three of us did not vary and we all charged ahead at more or less the same speed.