bitterdiva

Release from hell

The most important thing in life is life itself. Very few people have the opportunity to share a story so gruesome, so heinous that it is a wonder how they managed to survive. I thought about my life every day and was always questioning if it would be the last. Many had gone before me including my best friend, Nadia, but somehow, probably by the grace of God, I managed to survive long enough to make it out.

It was a bitter day when everyone was released. We were standing outside in the compound freezing while the guards prepared a number of individuals for their ‘shower’. I couldn’t remember the last time I actually had taken a shower, let alone a hot one. Us prisoners were huddled together using our body heat to stay warm; there must have been thousands of us. The garments we were handed upon arrival were dirty and worn out from other prisoners’ use. I had to stop myself from thinking about the number of individuals that wore this uniform before me and how they died.

Nadia was standing beside me crying. In an attempt to comfort her fears, I wrapped an arm around her and caressed her hair, even though there was not much of it. One of the first things to occur when every prisoner arrived at Birkenau was their hair was shorn to prevent lice and disease. It was of no help; the sanitary conditions were deplorable to the point that nothing could prevent the body from being covered with these bugs.

The guards had approached the group of us standing there, trying to keep away frostbite in the cold January winds. It was the typical greeting they gave us, rounds of ammunition shot off in the sky combined with orders barked at us in German. Those who didn’t obey were pulled out of the group and shot right in front of us. There was no concern for how we felt or how scarred we were. The more they showed us their power; the more we succumbed just to survive.

Survival, that’s what we all desired. That’s what I’ve managed to accomplish. I have survived through many ill events in my life. I have escaped from another work camp before I was placed at Birkenau. I’m surprised that I was not shot when they found me. I originally wasn’t the chosen one for these concentration camps, my sister was. I couldn’t deprive her three children of their mother even when I had my own to worry about. The SS soldiers barged into our home, yanked her youngest from her breast and began to drag her out into the street. I will never forget the look on her face. I ran towards them pulling on the soldiers, begging and pleading for her release. I offered myself up to them for her freedom. They didn’t care who went or who stayed, it was just a body they needed and I was young, full of health, and able to work.

A blast of wind sliced through my garment and I shivered. I began to worry that my chattering teeth would be brought to the attention of our captors and I would meet a most untimely end. I didn’t have much insulation on my body in terms of fat. We were all starved; some had died from malnutrition as their bodies devoured themselves. Others died of dehydration from bouts of diarrhea that lasted days on end. There were those unfortunate souls that didn’t die from what ailment they had, those people were brought to the hospital and were never seen of again. Not many people who entered the hospital came back to tell us what happened.

In order to keep my mind occupied I began to write a letter to my husband, I often wrote letters to him. He, himself, has endured much hardship in his life and was currently in another concentration camp. Although we were separated many times in our relationship I always felt the importance to write him in hopes that perhaps he could hear my thoughts in my mind and heart wherever he was located. I couldn't recall the actual letter that I had written in my mind but the theme was the same and so were the emotions being felt.

Dearest Sasha,

This may be the last time I speak to you. Currently Nadia and I are standing in line, waiting to be herded to the showers. My heart is heavy. I do not know if our bodies will be reunited again; I only know that if I do not make it through the day, I will be waiting for you in heaven. I now believe all the unfortunate souls that walk through these gates will be granted an eternity free of pain for we all have endured hell.

I won’t say that I’m frightened for that would not be the truth but as I’ve faced adversity before, I will hold my head up high and accept my fate. I’ve heard from several of the newer prisoners that the war will soon be over and our freedom will be given to us. I hope this is true for I miss you and Fedir horribly.

I am tired and my muscles are weak. My fingers are scabbed and scarred from the work in the factory. Our beds are infested with lice and I sleep on the floors. Some of the other women here are in worse shape than myself and shouldn’t be forced to sleep on the frozen ground. Poor Nadia is almost too weak to stand on her own and I’m scared that one morning she’ll go off to work and never return back for roll call. It’s cold today, colder than I’ve known it to be, but that could be just my health failing me.

If the inevitable happens, please take good care of Fedir, and always remind him how much I love him. I will always be by your side and watch over you.

With love,
Irina

After composing my letter I felt a cold, empty space next to me. I looked up to find her being led with other prisoners into the showers. I thought that I had heard screaming but we were too far away from the gas chambers to hear the cries of our friends and relatives. My poor Nadia was gone, taken from me, by those savages using pathetic excuses to eradicate the world. She wasn’t the first person close to me to perish, but she was the last.

The remaining group of us began to cry hysterically. We knew what our fate was going to be, how were would leave this earth. Many of the prisoners began to pray, some in Hebrew, some in my native Polish tongue, there were those fluent in German, Hungarian, and other Slavic languages with which I am familiar. Some of the rabbis in the group began reciting from the Torah holding a last mass for everyone. I could only imagine how the others were taking the events in, it was more than depressing, there is no expression for how one feels regarding their impending doom.

I was staring off towards the entrance gate of the complex contemplating escape and freedom when I noticed several military vehicles driving towards the camp. I could tell by the insignia of the trucks that they weren’t German vehicles. There were shots fired and yelling, but the language wasn’t in German, it was Russian. I was somewhat able to translate what they were saying for my husband taught me Ukrainian, and there were similarities. We were free. The Red Army had liberated all of us; we could finally go home to all of our families and live out the rest of our days. It would have been a truly joyous day if only the soldiers held out moments more. Nadia would still be alive.

09:24 AM

Comments

Post a comment