CHAPTER NINETEEN
Amelia
May 1943 - Day 521
Ihad been shakingsince I woke up that morning. Unable to focus on my job, I was merely asking the first question on my list to each patient in line, all of whom were seemingly melting in April’s abnormal heat. The elderly were dropping to the ground quicker than normal, resulting in at least fifty bodies needing to be dragged away by their feet. There was no sympathy or sense of emotion when it came to the Nazis. The Jews were no more than rodents in their mind’s eye. Charlie was the exception, but he left me wondering if there were any other exceptions. It was hard to see who was truly hateful in their soul because those soldiers were forced to be the way they were. I believe there were just as many who did not want to be there as the ones who truly hatedus.
Nevertheless, I knew better than to test my luck with any one of them, which is why I had done nothing except the job I was assigned to do more than a year earlier. I will forever wonder why I was on the list for transition—why they would want to kill a healthy, hard worker. I guess my luck, if you would call it that, ranout.
Lice were becoming a pandemic in the camp, and they had begun shaving every person from head to toe. I could only assume the little parasites hadn’t hit our barrack yet because as of that time, no one had come down with symptoms. Whenever possible, I kept my distance when a lice-infected person was near, knowing that the bugs could easily travel from one body to another, but I never had any real protection to wear. Typhus was also quickly spreading through the camp, causing more and more prisoners to perish while waiting for medical treatment, because therewasno medical treatment available, or at least there wasn’t any available to us. It had become easier and easier to spot those who were infected—the little red bumps, the high fevers, vomiting, and some, literally droppingdead.
The lines were on the shorter end that day, and I feared what Charlie had mentioned the night before. They must have been transporting large herds of Jews to the deathcamp.
I promised myself I would not become scared of whatever the outcome would be that night, but I couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like to have a gun pointed at my head, or worse, have a rope tied around my neck as I hung from the post on the execution field. I had seen too many of us hanged, and I concluded that being shot would be a blessing in comparison. It took up to five minutes for some to die from strangulation, and I couldn’t imagine what those final moments would be like, what thoughts I would have while thrashing and kicking as my neck slowly and painfully broke. I had nightmares about it, and had woken up in a sweat, clutching my neck with fear of finding therope.
The thought of being gassed sounded easier than the other two options, and if I had to choose a way of death, I would go with fast and painless, but none of us had the privilege of choosing how we preferred to go. There were no rules. It was whatever the Nazis decided it wouldbe.
After the sun had completely set and I headed back to my barrack for distribution of the daily ration, I passed by Charlie, who was standing guard outside my block. He eyeballed me as I headed inside, but I didn’t make it too far before I was grabbed from behind and dragged away. The bullish way in which I had to be handled was never okay. It hurt me, not physically, but emotionally. Knowing others were being dealt with in the same fashion, but with hate and malice, scared and saddenedme.
There was a sense of urgency, and Charlie’s fist shook against the back of my shoulder as he continued to pull me along. I knew better than to ask questions, so I kept quiet until we reached a building I hadn’t been invited or dragged into before. I went where I was told unless Charlie brought methere.
We took a set of stairs that led underground, and Charlie lit up the area with his dull flashlight as we came upon dozens of crated items. I couldn’t quite make out what was inside the crates, but as I moved in closer, I found they were filled and sorted into categories of various items such as glasses, hair, false teeth, gold teeth, jewelry, shoes, andclothes.
“What is all of this?” Iasked.
“Not now,” Charlie responded with haste. He sounded angry, or maybe he was just nervous like I was. He was usually quite composed, but not thatnight.
“No, I want to know what this is.” I knew what it was, but I needed to hear it outloud.
“Belongings of the deceased,” he snapped through quickbreaths.
“Pardon me? They’re keeping them here and organizing them intocrates?”
“Yes, Amelia.” His answer had a finality to it, and I took the suggestive tone as a hint to stop asking questions. I had never been afraid to test my limits with Charlie before, but with both our lives at stake, it wasdifferent.
“A potato sack?” I asked, watching as he took two and threw them over hisshoulder.
“Yes,” he said without offering any further indication of why they were needed. A year prior to that day, I would have been afraid. I may not have been able to ignore the feeling of distrust, but I had to believe Charlie knew what he was doing. “I need you to stay here while I find a way to getLucie.”
“How?” I asked him, but I should have truly stopped with thequestions.
“Amelia, please, trust me. I will be back within tenminutes.”
I could no longer hide the fear on my face. How could I? I had little to no information on how it was going to work, and I assumed we would not be taking the route the other Jews had taken when trying to escape. It was clear that Charlie had otherplans.
“Okay,” I said in no more than awhisper.
He walked toward me with his flashlight pointed at the walls in the back of the room, offering enough glow for us to see each other in the unlit, damp room that smelled of human remains—a scent I had sadly become accustomed to. However, the moisture added another degree of putrid odor that couldn’t be blocked out, even when only breathing through mymouth.
“Hurry back, please,” I begged. I wasn’t scared of the dark like I once was, but I had an uneasy feeling downthere.
Charlie kissed me gently and briefly caressed my cheek before storming back up the stairs without the potato sacks, which he left in a small pile at the base of thesteps.
Ten minutes felt like an eternity in the enclosed obscurity while I imagined the souls that may have been floating above the surrounding crates. I figured they were likely furious and wanted their belongings back. Mama had always told me ghosts were just a figment of our imagination, and while I would agree with her for the sake of agreeing, I didn’t exactly take her stance. I believe in ghosts, and that belief helped me through my time there as I envisioned an angry and hostile army of Jewish spirits who had a vengeance for theirmurders.
It also helped to think Mama and Papa were watching over me, keeping me alive by a miracle that could only be explained by the powers above. Those thoughts contradicted why I asked God for a reason as to why I was being punished so brutally. However, I still believed there was a purpose for everything, and if it was some horrible lesson I was supposed to learn in my life, I hoped I would at least come out on the other side with some wisdom on how to survive in a world filled with so much hate. I would look forward to sharing the information with my family who would be waiting for me at the gates ofheaven.
Mama may not have believed in ghosts, but she did tell me that no matter what happened in our world, if she left earth before Jakob or I did, she would be right there waiting for us in heaven. The faith I had that she was right made the thought of dying more acceptable. I wondered if she had a premonition about what happened to us all, and if that’s why she said what she did, but I may neverknow.
