Page 14 of The Watchmaker of Dachau

‘So what do we do now?’

‘I’d sleep if I were you,’ Jan said.

Isaac lay back on his straw mattress, feeling the pricks of the stalks in his back. His leg ached and he rubbed at it, staring at the ceiling, trying to calm himself by imagining Hannah’s face.

‘You awake?’ Elijah asked.

‘I am.’ Isaac turned on his side to look at Elijah, who was doing the same. All around them were the whispers of the men as they asked questions, forged friendships, and tried to make sense of the reality they now found themselves in.

‘Are you married?’

‘I am – I was… My wife died ten years ago,’ Isaac replied.

‘I was never married. Not once. I thought perhaps I had some more time, but I’m not sure I do now.’

‘How old are you, Elijah?’

‘Forty-five, you?’

‘Almost sixty.’

‘I know what will happen to us here, I know. They’ll not let us out. I doubt I’ll get married.’

‘Things can change. I never thought Hannah would die, I never thought this would ever happen. But it has. So, things can change again, you know? The British and Americans will find us,’ Isaac said hopefully.

‘Quiet down!’ Jan’s voice came from below. ‘Keep thinking like that if you want, but I’ll tell you now, in a day or so, you’ll be so tired, so hungry that those thoughts will disappear.’

‘There’s no harm—’

‘Shh, quiet now,’ Jan interrupted Isaac. ‘Get your sleep, you’ll need it.’

The morning had not yet broken when Isaac was woken by the Kapo from the train tracks. His name was Adam, Jan had told him, a Jew, a prisoner just like them who slept in other barracks and was given better food, better clothes, as long as he helped keep them all in line.

‘How can he do that?’ Isaac asked Jan as they left the bunkhouse. ‘How can he turn on his own people?’

‘You say that, and I agree with you, but Adam was in three camps before this one. He is just trying to survive.’

‘So, you think it is right?’

‘I think it is wrong. I think he will have to live with this for the rest of his life if he does survive. We hate him, of course we do, but there is a fine line between the hate that we feel and our jealousy at the privileges he has. You’ll see. Give it time – you’ll see how this place can change a man.’

Jan fell silent as they marched outside into the sleet that now fell from the dense clouds. Each man was counted, then counted again. Now and again, for no reason, one or two men were singled out and walked away by a guard.

After more than an hour, Isaac could barely feel his toes or fingers, and the pain in his leg throbbed from standing for so long. He couldn’t understand why they had to count again and again. Then, he realised. As the time passed the men became weaker, colder, more tired, and this was when some would find their legs crumbling beneath them, and this was when the guards and Kapos found delight in meting out punishment.

With each beating of each man, the roll call began again.

Those who were new to the camp were made to stand longer whilst the others were sent to their work – none of them had eaten. Isaac stood with Elijah and a few others from the train.

‘Your work details.’ A guard stepped in front of them, a boy it seemed, perhaps no more than eighteen, whose blond hair and blue eyes were the epitome of the Reich. He called out each number, and the men had to look at their shirts to check if it was theirs that was called. Each one was assigned their place of work – labour, factory, morgue.

Isaac checked his own number multiple times, but his was never called. Soon he was the only one left standing as each of the others were marched to work.

‘Schüller.’ The blond guard stood in front of him. ‘We’ve a special job for you.’

Isaac wasn’t sure whether to ask what it was or to say thank you; instead he nodded.

He shuffled after the blond guard who led him towards a watchtower and gates, where a short, fat man waited on the other side, puffing at a thin cigar.