Stanislaw Szmajzner
Extracts from the book - “Tragedy of a Jewish
Teenager”
… It was late
afternoon when we noticed that the noise made by the train wheels on the rails
had slowly lessened as the train lost speed. Next, we heard the squeak of metal
caused by the brakes as the train stopped.
We soon noticed the
engine was being manoeuvred around, and suddenly the wagons started to be
pushed instead of being pulled. A few seconds later we
stopped again. We
were all silent, since we were worried at the continuous comings and goings of
the engine. It was finally separated from the rest of the convoy and was rapidly
leaving the place we thought was a railroad yard. More minutes went by while we
waited for the results of that entire commotion. We were all filled with
intense anxiety. The only sounds to be heard were our whispers, broken at times
by the cry of a child, who was immediately silenced by its mother. Suddenly,
the door was opened.
All the other
wagons were opened at the same time and we saw dozens of SS soldiers, a sight we
already knew very well, waiting for us along the whole long convoy. Scattered
among them were an approximately equal number of soldiers, which was a surprise
to us, since we had not seen their kind before. They wore a special uniform,
whose most remarkable element was a black cap with a skull emblem right at its
front. They carried wooden truncheons; whips and guns were in their hands.
Their uniform was different from that of the Germans - it was forest-green in
colour.
We thought our
misfortunes had ended on arriving at our destination, and we desperately wished
for some fresh air and for freedom, as little as that might be. We felt the
compelling need to rest our tired muscles and bones after the pitiless journey.
We had gone without water, food, light, and pure air for hours, accompanied by excrement
and corpses. For all of these reasons, our eyes were fixed upon the door which,
once opened, provided the deadly view of a gang of criminals with sombre,
threatening faces. Thus, all of our hopes had been in vain. We immediately
heard violent shouts and curses, followed by an incisive command – `Outside
quickly!’
This was the
reception the bandits gave us, making the hopes of the most optimistic turn into
a pessimism which was already latent. The Ukrainians and their German masters,
using the whips in an indiscriminate way, forced the immense human cargo to exit
from the crowded wagons, hurriedly and violently. We hardly had time to breathe
when we were forced to hurl ourselves out in disorderly fashion, like an
excited herd. We stepped on and pressed against one another, walking over the
bodies which hampered our way, slipping on the foul slippery paste which
covered the whole floor of the freight car.
For their part,
the soldiers never stopped shouting and whipping us, so as to deliberately
increase the tumult, while we were unable to attempt even a single rebellious
gesture in the face of all of this. Our reasoning abilities were dulled by the
din they made and we could not even orientate ourselves, since we could not
find any point of reference.
At the exact
moment when the crowd left the wagon, even before all had come out, I had the
opportunity of seeing a man in an elegant uniform. He wore grey trousers, characteristic
of the German army, and a perfect white jacket; a handsome cap was placed on
his head. He was using his pistol to shoot at the Jews who were coming out of
the train, and he was accompanied in that by an extraordinarily tall officer,
as well as some others who were practising their marksmanship on defenceless
targets. Due to this barbaric action, dozens of the deportees lay there by the
side of the wagons in which they had travelled, killed at the very moment of
arrival. The object of this monstrous scene was to immediately impose a sense
of terror and create an unquestioning obedience on behalf of the Jews, thus
discouraging them from any act of rebellion.
As soon as the
wagons were emptied, we were compelled to march towards a long corridor, flanked
by two fences made of barbed wire. There were guards all around us, urging us
to walk as fast as possible, in spite of the state we were in. At the end of
that passage there was an arrogant Nazi officer accompanied by two Ukrainians, truncheons
in hand. This corridor was the stage for an unforgettable scene of
sophisticated cruelty. The three criminals stood at the end of the corridor,
positioned so as to form a triangle, with the higher-ranking officer a little
behind the two guards, who stood on either side of him. Both of these guards
had a menacing posture, with their fearful truncheons and vicious faces.
Meanwhile, the
mass of Jews was coming by in fits and starts and, when they came within reach
of the guards, were violently separated – men to the right, women to the left,
with the beast-like overseers fiercely wielding their cudgels and pitilessly hitting
everyone. The picture we saw was very painful, with whole families being
separated; in tears, mothers were separated from their children and husbands,
young people were driven away from their parents and siblings, babies were
deprived of their mother’s love.
As we were being
separated according to our sex, we were thrown into a larger yard, located at
the end of the corridor. This area could not hold us all in any comfort. We had
to be pushed and pressed close to one another until the yard became totally
congested with people, since about two thousand of us had arrived in our
transport. The cursed SS were waiting for us at the entrance to the yard, which
looked like a football field. They did not intend to waste any time, since they
immediately aligned the women into four rows and made them start walking
towards a gate, behind which lay the unknown.
As soon as they
had disappeared behind the gate, which was noisily shut, the Nazis focused
their attention on the men. They also put us in rows of four and we waited for
the command to march. However, this did not come immediately, and we had to
stand where we were. In the commotion generated by the disorderly exit from the
train, when no one could understand anything amidst the running and shouting, I
had been close to my brother, my nephew, and my cousin Nojech.
From that moment onward we had never separated for a single instant and now we
were still together. The same was not true of my father, with whom we lost all
contact during the bedlam resulting from the human avalanche which had been
hurled out of the wagon.
With all the men
already in formation, there suddenly appeared a giant German officer with a
disdainful look in his eyes, whom I thought to be the leader there. Actually
roaring, he started to select us according to our abilities. Thus, the farmers
were selected first, then the physically stronger, as well as those who seemed
to be most able to resist. Next, the carpenters, the mechanics, the tailors,
and then other professionals, until all of them had been subdivided into
diverse groups according to the most useful of professions.
I was very
surprised that no goldsmiths had been called, and I daringly left the ranks of
those who had not been chosen and addressed the officer. When I got close
enough to him, without waiting for him to say a word, I tried to be very
courteous and clever, and told him that I was a goldsmith and that my profession
had not been included on the list they had read out. The huge German was
perplexed, as if he had paid no attention to my words or did not believe I was
actually a goldsmith. As soon as I finished talking I took from my back the
small tool bag I always carried and showed him its contents, as well as a monogram
I had engraved on my own money wallet. This small proof of my professional
skill was enough to make this brute a little more accessible and believe what I
had told him. He finally decided I was to be taken from the ranks. I took
advantage of the opportunity to add that I had three “brothers” who also
manufactured jewels and whom I would like to have with me. He nodded his
agreement and my “brothers” joined me. Before he could go on with his work I
still found enough courage to tell him that my old father was in the crowd,
although I had not been able to find him. The German then said we might be able
to find my father the next day. Thus ended that short, but profitable
dialogue.
Working for
the Nazis
… The first
SS-man, whom we already knew, although we were not aware of his name, introduced
the other as the commander–in–chief of the camp. He went on praising him as the
highest authority in that place and as the absolute master of everything which
was done or undone. His power extended in an unquestionable way over all
sectors, and he actually could be considered the master of life and death of
all those who were there.
After this
flattering description, they sat down and told us to do the same, thus starting
a pleasant and even cordial conversation, as if this were the most natural
thing for them. We felt much more at ease and we even imagined that we were in
a friendly, merry place; such was the courteousness with which they addressed us.
The commandant asked me a lot of questions about jewels. He wanted to know how
they were made and how could I, who looked so young, be able to manufacture
them. He took some more time over the second question, asking me slyly about
how some of the tools were used. Maybe he suspected I did not really possess
all of the skills of which I had boasted, or that I had been lying about
everything. Even so, he did not lose his temper and accepted all my arguments,
even though he tried to delve into all the subtleties of my profession. When
the dialogue was over they rose, and the leader told me to wait for his orders.
We then learned his name. He was Franz Stangl.
The other one, with whom we had talked many times before, was the cursed SS Scharführer Gustav Wagner, a
most important authority, the leader of camp number 1.
Franz
Stangl was at that time
extremely vain. He was always perfectly dressed and his affectations reached
the point of absurdity. He regarded himself as being all powerful, as indeed he
actually was. His countenance reflected a great deal of arrogance, in spite of his
possessing some kind and tender traits. He undoubtedly looked snobbish. He was
always well groomed; his Hauptmann’s high ranking police officer’s
uniform was always shiny and well-pressed, and fitted him beautifully. His height
was 1.74m and he was of slender build. He usually wore a cap which showed that
he still retained all of his light-brown air. He looked thirty years old and
healthy. He always swung his white gloves from his hand, and his boots were
like mirrors, clean and shiny. He had the air of a superior man, a
characteristic peculiar to all Aryans, who revered their ancestry. He was
always smiling, friendly, and happy, although at the cost of the unhappiness of
others. He spoke slowly in a soft voice which betrayed his unshakeable calm.
The words he pronounced sounded mild and affable, showing how well bred and
refined he was. His appearance was that of a university lecturer, due to the
mixture of attitudes that he deliberately cultivated.
The other SS-man,
Gustav Wagner, was a giant nearly two metres
tall. He had a huge body, must have weighed more than a hundred kilos and was
as strong as an ox. His main peculiarity lay in the fact that he had extremely
long arms, which reached down to his knees, in an absurdly disproportionate
way. He also had a severe deformity in one of his shoulders, which was much
narrower than the other, and this made him walk with a strange gait, always
leaning towards the right. His way of swinging his body right and left gave him
the appearance of an orang-utan. His face was like a skull made of granite, so
rigid was it. His eyes were such a dark green that they could hypnotise anyone
who looked fixedly at them. However, they were lustreless like those of a dead
fish, with no life or sparkle.
… Some moments
later, in came Franz Stangl again, and he gave
me my first job. I was to make a monogram for him. He sat down and explained
what he wanted it to be like. After I had listened to him attentively I argued
that the gold I had available would not be enough, given the weight the
valuable jewel was to have. The gold I declared I had was that of the jewels we
had kept carefully hidden since we had been taken away from Opole. As a matter
of fact, with the exception of my tool bag, these were the only valuable
objects from which I had never parted. We knew how priceless they would be in
times of danger and I took good care of them. They represented a very small
part of what we had once had, but even so, they could still be extremely
useful. As I was terrified at the mysterious disappearance of my parents and my
sister Ryrka behind the sinister gate, I
thought that this was the right time for me to offer the little gold in my
possession to be used in the monogram, even if the quantity would not be
enough. However, Stangl
did not worry about that. He promised he would send me the proper amount
of bullion I needed to make the ring to his taste.
… Now, everything
was different. I had been separated from my family only twenty-four hours
before, but a strange worry tormented me ceaselessly, due to what I had
witnessed the day before and their sudden mysterious disappearance.
The commandant
listened to everything with his head bent, but giving me his whole attention.
Then turning to me with an air of generosity he assured me I had nothing to
worry about and that I would soon be able to see my family. He assured me that
all of them were well, but their work was a little bit harder than ours. In
spite of that, he added there was no reason for me to be worried or afraid.
Furthermore, he declared that all the Jews who had come in our transport had
already had their baths, changed their clothes and were working on the farm,
and that they were happy and well taken care of. Stangl
paused for a minute and then went on, adding that everything would be
provided for our little group. We would always have enough material for us to
work with, plenty of good food, not to mention comfortable beds to sleep in. He
finished by promising me, upon his word as a German officer, that my brothers
and I would soon meet our parents who were in camp 3.
I then dared to
ask him where we were. The answer came right away. He looked at me very firmly
and said – “We are in a labour camp and its name is Sobibor.”
… In the early
afternoon I received a large quantity of rings. I immediately noticed they were
used, old-fashioned jewels from their mere appearance. I did not think of their
origin and started to melt them right away with the help of my equipment. When
I had finished melting the bullion I began my delicate work, but I had first
thought of a way to make the Germans believe in my supposed brothers’ skills.
As they knew nothing about the art of making jewels, I made my brothers help
me, while my nephew and cousin sharpened the tools, pretending they were really
working.
It soon became
dark. However, I went on working to finish Stangl’s monogram. While I worked, some officers would
occasionally come and watch me. I came to the conclusion that they were led by
curiosity to see, with their own eyes, how the work was done. In such moments I
gave them undeniable proof of my skill and devotion, and took a long time
chiselling an unimportant facet. They were fascinated by that and paid me the
most elaborate compliments as the beautiful jewel emerged from the block of
gold. Some came to the point of asking me to manufacture something for them and
I always said that I would.
On the following
day, I finished the jewel and sent a message to Stangl,
telling him his ring was ready. He promptly came to my goldsmith’s workshop.
The man was beside himself with happiness. He was ecstatic and he felt
fulfilled. He had a light smile on his lips and was not able to hide his
surprise at my having succeeded, at my early age and in such a perfect way, in making what he had ordered me to
create. He was totally absorbed in his happiness, when in came the brutish Gustav Wagner with some other officers. When they
saw the monogram they immediately started to praise it as warmly as Stangl had done,
nor did they stint in expressing their admiration. I decided, of course, to
make a monogram for Gustav Wagner with the
utmost priority. The man was commander of camp number 1, he had been the first
to ask, and above all, I feared his disappointment because he looked ferocious.
As to the others, I did not know who to serve first. The requests were many and
I was still confused.
In the afternoon,
when I was already starting on the task, a Scharführer came to our workshops. His name was Bolender and he brought with him very good company.
It was a huge St. Bernard dog, which answered to the name of Barry. At first I thought it was tame. It did not
bark at me, but stood quietly by its master. I was completely mistaken; I later
learned it was a fierce watchdog.
Bolender was an SS officer, tall, stout with an elegant
bearing. He was characterised by his evident austerity and a goatee, which gave
him an imposing aspect. He was one of the leaders in camp number 3 and one of
the most important figures in Sobibor. He approached me, threw a quick glance
at the piece I had started to chase and then addressed me. It was soon evident
that I was facing a very brutish man because he ordered me in a very rude way
to make a gold inlay in the handle of his whip. He also ordered me to fix a
coin to the upper end of the handle. He had hardly finished talking when he
threw a handful of gold on the table. It seemed to me that the Nazi did not
know what he was doing, for the quantity of bullion he had brought was
excessive. Before he left he ordered me to send my nephew, early next morning,
to camp number 2 to fetch the coin, because he would be there then, although he
worked in camp number 3. I put away the material Bolender
had brought and went on with my task for the rest of the afternoon and evening,
so as to be able to finish Wagner’s monogram
as soon as possible. As the lights had been turned out, I worked by the light
of an oil lamp.
During the day
another transport of prisoners had arrived in Sobibor, much larger than ours,
as I later learned. However, as I assumed I was in a labour camp, I did not pay
any attention to their arrival, believing that the Germans needed a larger number
of men for the activities of the camp.
Without
suspecting anything, soon after daybreak my ingenuous nephew headed for the
place Bolender had told him to go. In order to
get there he had to cross the yard where the rows of men who had arrived in the
latest transport were waiting. By then the women had already been sent toward
the mysterious gate and had disappeared behind it. My nephew passed by the rows
of Jews and went to that same gate via which he would reach the designated
place. He opened it and entered a long corridor which led to camp number 2. When
he got to the end of the corridor he found himself inside a place which could
very easily be taken for a giant corral, surrounded by boards so well
juxtaposed that it would be impossible to see from the outside what was going
on inside of it.
The side of the
corral nearest to the end of the corridor had a door which was guarded by a
Ukrainian soldier. My nephew went up to him and said he was to meet Bolender, who had
ordered him to be there at that hour. The brutal sentry did not pay any
attention to him but opened the door and pushed him inside. Without giving him
the opportunity of explaining anything and heedless of his protests, the guard next
made the boy completely undress. Perhaps he acted like that because he thought
the boy was part of the new transport.
In the meantime I
had finished Wagner’s monogram and was
starting to work on Bolender’s whip. I was
engrossed in my work and was already starting to worry about my nephew’s delay
when the door was suddenly opened. It was the boy coming back, seized by
indescribable panic. He was trembling and his face was ashen with terror. He was not able to say a word and he was
obviously out of his mind. He sank into a deep depression and did not make even
a simple gesture to explain his attitude. He was obviously deranged.
Only at daybreak
were we able to see him relax and come to himself again. He then started his
unbelievable report.
He told us that
as soon as he had undressed inside what was known as camp number 2, he had
found himself face to face with a tragic scene, never before seen or imagined. He
saw a multitude of women, some of them naked and others in the process of
undressing. Among the latter, the most reluctant to do so had their clothes
torn from their bodies by the brutal guards. Others were forced to undress with
whiplashes, blows from rifle butts and clubs. Shots were also aimed at them. At
the same time, the loud noise made the place even more terrifying. There were
shouts, weeping, and laments, mixed with pleas to the Germans not to continue
their unspeakable cruelty. The Nazis and their Ukrainian accomplices answered
with shouts, curses, orders and blows.
He continued his
horrifying description and told us he had witnessed something there which could
only be compared to the times when barbarian tribes roamed over Europe.
Children of all ages were torn from their mothers’ arms, held by the legs, twirled
around, and then violently thrown so that their head struck the wall. The
children fell dead to the floor. It was mass infanticide, impossible to
conceive in our modern age. Amid the savage scene he witnessed he had been able
to see very clearly that one of the chiefs there was Bolender. This man, apparently perfect for the task which he
performed with the utmost pleasure, looked more like a jackal than a human being.
His activity was feverish and he was resolute, not only in shouting out orders,
but also in taking an active part in the sadistic practices. To finish his
report my nephew added that, by mere chance, he had been seen and recognised by
the criminal who then called him over. Amidst curses and rude words, Bolender had taken out of his pocket an American
twenty dollar gold coin. He had handed the coin to the boy and ordered a guard
to lead him out of that place. Before he did that, though, he emphatically
warned the boy not to go any place near a new transport whenever it arrived, and
to tell his companions to do the same. He also told him not to mention to
anyone, under any circumstances, what he had seen there.
A few minutes
later Bolender arrived, to see whether the
whip had been made to his specification. As I had already finished it I handed
it to the German. He could not hide his admiration at the beautiful engraving
and at the large twenty- dollar coin. He was very proud of it and deemed the
work magnificent and worthy of his position as an executioner. He was fulsome
in his praise, labelling my work as being worthy of being shown at an art
exhibition, and presented me with a bottle of vodka. I thought the Nazi was
ridiculing me and I refused the offer, which I thought was permeated with
hypocrisy. I told him I had never tasted liquor to which he angrily replied – “Drink!”
I had no choice
but to obey the order so I immediately took a swallow, since a mere wish of the
Nazis was to us an unquestionable command. I grimaced when the strong liquor
went down my throat. The scoundrel was smiling sardonically when he left the
room, doubly happy, both for his valuable whip and for the cruel act he had
just performed.
And our good luck
did not abandon us. Next day, Wagner came in
and told me – “I have talked to Stangl and
decided to have a ring made for each SS Scharführer.” He then sat down and explained what he wanted the
rings to be like. They must be made in silver, with a gold badge. This badge
would be in relief and consist of two letters `Y’. The `YY’ would be placed in
such a way that one of them would be in the normal position, representing life.
The other would be engraved right beneath it, in the inverted position, meaning
death. It would then be the symbol of life and death, which incidentally suited
the functions of the rings’ future owners very well.
To enable me to
learn more about each of the SS officers, I cut a small board into which I
hammered as many nails as the number of rings I was to make. As the officers
came in I would measure their fingers and hang the string with their names
attached to it on each of the nails. The board hung on one of the walls and
thanks to it I was able to not only make all the artefacts sufficient to please
their owners, but also to learn the names of nearly all the torturers in
Sobibor. They began to come, a few at a time, and the number of nails with
their names on gradually increased. Among the first of the gangs to appear I
remember perfectly well, to this day, in an indelible way, the following felons
- Franz Stangl, Gustav Wagner, Bolender and
his bosom friend, nicknamed ‘The Red Cake’,
who will appear in the following lines in a sadly spectacular manner. Next to
these prominent elements there came the others whose cruelty and iniquity were
no less remarkable, such as Karl Frenzel, Steubel,
Bauer, Gomerski, Weiss, Poul, Vallester, and Michel. Besides those, I also remember other scoundrels
whom I came to know later, including Grinman,
Graetschus, Richter, Beckmann, Groth, Getzinger, Bredow and another one
who was called “The Baker”.
I received the
silver and the gold sent by Wagner and started
to make the sinister jewels. Once in a while a latecomer whose measure I had
not yet taken and whose name I had not noted would show up. The SS-men who
visited our workshop most frequently were Stangl and Wagner. They came there to watch our work. Every time I
would ask about the rest of my family and I always got the same answer – I
should not worry because very soon we would be sent to the place where my
parents were. It was only a matter of time.
… “Tomorrow none of you are to leave the
workshop for any reason. You will have to stay locked inside. This is an order!”
We soon learned that
these measures were being taken because, on the next day, a committee would
arrive from Germany. We were worried and curious. As we were not free to move
and we were not permitted to observe anything, we decided to peep through the
cracks in the door and windows of the workshop.
Indeed, very early
the next morning, a group of high–ranking officers arrived. We did not know any
of them. From our makeshift vantage point we clearly saw Stangl, Wagner and
some others talking with the members of the committee. By the gestures of the
former, we noticed that they were trying to flatter the newcomers. Stangl was
particularly solicitous and excessively cheery. He displayed an unusual
obsequiousness in place of his customary arrogance. Amidst the entire group of strangers
we noticed one person who seemed outstanding, since he was the target of all of
the attention and the smiles of the leaders of the camp. He was a tall, middle–aged
man who wore glasses thinly rimmed in black.
We kept watching,
and then we saw that after the inspection they had made of the buildings of the
camp, the VIPs of the committee started to gesture more frequently and to point
at different places, as if they were suggesting or consenting to something. We
then came to the sad conclusion that they were a band of Nazi scoundrels very
highly specialised in the elimination of Jews.
Our forecast was undoubtedly
correct, for soon afterwards we learned that they were responsible for the
enlargement and the “improvements” introduced in the Sobibor camp. Their visit
was connected with this re-building. The tall bespectacled man was the
all-powerful Heinrich Himmler, head of the
cursed Gestapo and of the SS troops, accompanied by his satraps. Perhaps
the arrival of Himmler and his gang gave me
the opportunity of telling this story to the world. It was on that day that the
possibility of our maybe living a little longer was born, as the reader will
soon learn.
Some days
afterwards, a great change in the panorama of Sobibor was introduced. New
structures started to be raised and the exterminating engine was given some
improvement, resulting in a substantial increase in “productivity.” In Germany,
the Nazi party did not seem satisfied with the indices of genocide and its
leaders conceived of new methods which would raise these indices to much more
impressive levels. Soon after Himmler’s
inspection, they set to work and the camp came to acquire a new appearance.
Shacks, sheds and some other buildings were raised in a hurry, and Sobibor
would quickly be seething with activity.
As we did not
believe that this entire enlargement was being undertaken to make us more
comfortable, we thought of something which seemed more logical. That is, they
were going to improve the slaughtering methods in the death camp, so that a
larger number of Jews could be swallowed by it. At the same time, the Nazis
selected about one hundred men from that day’s batch of new arrivals. They
would be used in assembling the new building. Some of them were carpenters and
joiners who were real experts in their fields. Most of them, however, knew
little or nothing about building work. The shack was taking shape, although
some of the men had soon been withdrawn from this job. As a matter of fact, no
matter how well they knew their own business, whoever was not good enough for this
work was immediately sent to camp 3, and found death.
When the shack
was ready, its huge bulk was impressive. It was dozens of metres long and had
only one door; the windows were pre-installed and did not open. Inside, many
partitions were erected. In one of the rooms thus created, the back one, a
kitchen was installed. Another was set apart to be the women’s quarters. A third
one was reserved for the Kapos and in this way all of the different rooms were assigned
their use. We soon came to learn that other huge sheds were also being
assembled in camp 2. They would be used as storehouses for the booty taken from
the victims, who arrived by the thousands every day. The quantity and variety
of the objects thus obtained by the Germans was such they decided to allot a
shed to each type – clothing, blankets, footwear, cans of food, glasses etc. As
soon as the sheds were assembled, the Nazis selected the strongest men as
labourers from the next batches of deportees. Then they started to select the
women. All of them were used for work inside the giant shacks, since with the
enlargement of the quarters in Sobibor, more workers were needed.
After they had
finished building the huge shack in camp 1, the Germans started to build another,
which would be divided into two sections. One of them was set apart for a
machine shop, which I was later appointed to manage. For the other sector, that
of the carpenters, only the best were chosen, the real experts in carpentry and
cabinet making. Their task was to manufacture furniture for the Nazis.
… The routine in
Sobibor changed before our very eyes and all of us felt it. We started to live
under a truly military regime. Early in the morning, at seven o’clock, we had
to be in formation to receive instructions about the day’s tasks. Before that,
however, the Jews were counted by the leaders of the blocks, in Wagner’s presence. If there were any unjustified
absences, the leader of that particular block would be punished with twenty- five
lashes. The roll-call was repeated twice each day – when we came back from work
at lunchtime, and in the evening, at curfew. Anybody who absented themselves
from the roll-call would soon be sent to camp 3 to be killed. Sometimes, to
avoid this, we, the Block Leaders, did not inform on the absence of those who
were sick, thus trying to save them. In these cases, whenever we were caught we
were severely punished.
One day, the
Jewish Commander, Moses, had to punish one of his subordinates. The act was performed in
public and in Wagner’s presence. The transgressor
was a boy who was to receive ten lashes and, as was the custom, he would have
to count them one by one as the flogging was administered. When the whip hit
him for the first time, the young man shouted, as fast as he could, “One, two,
three….. “, up to ten. With that he thought the punishment would be over. All
of us burst out laughing and so did Wagner,
who ordered the second blow to be struck. The boy did the same fast counting up
to ten, but he actually still received the ten lashes.
… It was the
beginning of July, in the middle of summer. After all the modifications that
had been made to the camp, not only in its physical appearance but also in its
personnel, another unexpected thing was in store for us. The SS started to
militarise us as with regard to discipline and in making us march to work. We
marched to and from work, as if we were a military unit. Military drilling was
performed at the end of long and hard-working days, and all of us had to
participate. We were already tired, hungry and thirsty, in need of rest, food
and water.
They began by
teaching us how to form rows and columns, and then made us practice a series of
exercises. As we progressed we lost the right to make mistakes, since every
fault was punished with the most varied and tiresome punishments, such as lying
down and getting up in quick succession, crawling on the ground or walking with
a goose step. Besides all this they made us sing German hymns in loud voices as
we marched. Any wrong step would certainly result in punishment. The truth is
that at the end of a few days, the ragged band of Reich slaves became an elite
troop, so high was the level of discipline we had reached. We marched all over
the camp singing the hated hymns in perfect rhythm. It seemed as if there was a
Jewish army in Sobibor.
However, the
construction work went on at a faster pace. Our captors started to build new
sheds in camp 1 for the carpenters, mechanics and blacksmiths. On the other
hand, they tore down the shed which had first been erected for that purpose and
in which I worked. The jewels were still manufactured in the old shed we all
lived in. That shed was nearly in the middle of the camp. The Nazis thought the
place should be demolished to make the yard wider, in order to hold the
hundreds of Jewish workmen who entered it everyday to be counted. While a human
anthill of workers took care of the building work, we had the opportunity of
watching the passage through our camp of a giant machine which we had never
seen before. It was a mechanical digger called `Bagger’ and it was accompanied
by a quantity of rails. All these things went straight to camp 3, where they
would be put to use.
In the meantime new
sheds were starting to be built in camp 2, which were to contain the goods
belonging to the unfortunate Jews who had been exterminated. As the Germans found
the buildings they already had insufficient for that purpose, they not only
enlarged those buildings but also erected new warehouses. They built a stable
too, for the thoroughbred horses the Nazis rode. The man in charge of the
stables was named Samuel. He has survived and lives at present in the United
States. In the same area, a powerful stationary diesel motor was assembled which
would provide the whole of the camp with electric light. On Wagner’s orders, I was made responsible for the
installation of all of the electrical wiring connecting the dynamo to various
sectors of the enormous camp. As it was not a highly specialised job, I could perform
it fairly well.
In the yard
reserved for the Germans, a casino was built for the officers. When completed they
would eat and drink there, as well as entertain themselves. Initially they had
been lodged in provisional quarters, which were somewhat cramped. All the
carpenters were mobilised in the construction of the casino. They worked day
and night, making chairs and tables, other pieces of furniture, and decorating
everything in the manner desired by the Nazis. Two boys were also selected to
serve as waiters .They would serve food and drink to the Germans and they would
have to keep the casino clean. Their names were Josiek
and Moshe Szklarek. The latter still lives in
Israel. A magnificent barbershop was also opened with the best there was at the
time. They appointed one barber to serve only Stangl and
his gang. His name was Josef. Since this barbershop was reserved for the Germans
they built another for the Ukrainians. A barber and his apprentice son were
recruited and both started to work for the Ukrainians.
… Some of us
lived in camp 1, but we were practically free to go anywhere and we often went
to camp 2 and to the officer’s yard. The only place we did not go was camp 3,
but we knew everything that happened there.
One day I
received another message from Abraham. He was
still in camp 3 and this was to be his last message, although I saw him once more.
The bearer of the message was Klatt, the
Ukrainian. As usual, he demanded his pay in gold. In his message, Abraham informed me of important changes that had
been made in the camp. The manner by which the Jews were exterminated -
asphyxiation by the combustion gases of a diesel motor - had been abolished.
The Germans had
also modified the slaughterhouse – bathroom. They had closed the hole in the
wall through which the exhaust-pipe of the motor had entered. The motor had
been removed. Instead, they had installed a moveable skylight in the ceiling of
the deadly shed. As they did not think one “bathroom” was enough, the Nazis had
erected another, which already conformed to the specifications mentioned. Everything
led us to believe that they were preparing to launch an unprecedented slaughter,
and had therefore improved the lethal capabilities of camp 3.
Abraham went on to explain that, to direct the
massacre, a chief of operations had already been appointed: the cruel Bauer. His main
activity was to check, through the skylight, the exact moment when the shed was
filled to capacity. At that moment, he issued an order and the door was
hermetically sealed. Next, he opened the skylight, threw a can of gas onto the
compact mass of condemned people, and closed the skylight again. The gas was the
deadly Zyklon-B, created in German laboratories with the sole aim of
answering a demand from the murderers – to find a product which would kill more
quickly.
After he had
thrown the lethal charge down into the “bathroom”. Bauer waited at his
watch-post until he was sure that all the occupants had been killed. Then, his
macabre task was finished.
Proceeding with
his report, Abraham then mentioned the mechanical
digger and the rails we had seen some days before, when they were on their way
to camp 3. He affirmed that the huge machine was in full use. It exhumed the
corpses that had so far been buried in the camp, and which came to dozens of
thousands. Using the rails they had raised a huge structure which was used to
cremate the bodies. By employing very large fans, they kindled the fire of the
wood burnt at that human furnace. Before cremation, the corpses were piled
between layers of wood and then fire was put to the whole thing.
It stood to
reason that the Germans not only thought of making the killing process more
dynamic, but also of erasing their traces of their crime. It was not convenient
for them that mankind should come to know about the millions of Jews who had
been buried not only in Sobibor, but also in other extermination camps. They
thus decided to eliminate the traces by reducing them to ashes.
Abraham went on to state that immense and
frightening fires were always lighting the whole of the camp where he lived, as
the Germans were in a hurry to cremate all the dead people who had been buried
there during these last few months as quickly as they could. This fact did not
surprise us, since we were already accustomed to seeing the reflection of the
flames which rose very high from our camp, lighting the dark sky over Sobibor.
On those occasions when the wind blew from the direction of camp 3 we could
smell the nauseating odour of human flesh being burnt. The smell was so strong
that we were constantly sick to our stomachs. Quite often we threw up the
little we had eaten at the mere thought that the corpses of human beings in an
advanced stage of putrefaction were being incinerated.
… A bunch of Jews
was immediately called to begin the work. All the necessary material was
rapidly unloaded at various locations in the camp. A small narrow gauge railroad
was to be built for internal use, which would run via several sections of the
camp, continuing the railroad by which the trains came to Sobibor. The work
developed a priority that seemed to indicate that the Germans found it
extremely important for the better functioning of their genocidal activities. This
was all part of the scheme drawn up by Himmler, and Trottel
carried it out to perfection. The ties were being set and the rails fixed night
and day, metre after metre. Then the means of transportation arrived. When
everything was ready, we Jews nicknamed the wagons which ran on the railroad
“Loras”, since they were exactly like the small trains we had in our parks for
children. The small wagons were rectangular and many corpses could be loaded in
them.
The small railroad
started at the ramp of Sobibor and went up to camp 3. Its chief object would be
to transport the goods the Jews had brought with them, as well as the dead and
dying people found in the transports. Everything would be placed on the
“Loras”. These would depart from a platform next to the old ramp and would go through
the sector where the officer’s yard was located. From there, they would
continue to camp 2. There they would leave their precious cargo of deportees’
possessions to be selected and deposited in the proper shed. In that place. as
soon as the convoy stopped, a group of people dressed in rags would be in
charge of unloading the little wagons, which were filled to the brim, as
quickly as possible. Next the wagons would move onto camp 3, where the rails stopped
at the cremation furnaces and the cargo of corpses and dying people from the
transports would be unloaded. The dying and sick would then immediately be sent
to the “death shack”, together with all of the other Jews who had left the
train and who would have to walk there, crossing camps 1 and 2.Then all would
be exterminated. At the beginning of the camp’s existence, the Israelites who
had just arrived were sent to camp 2 carrying their own luggage. Now the method
had been changed. The “Loras” would take care of everything, and the carnage
could be completed without wasting any time. For that reason, Himmler had visited Sobibor twice.
To perfect the
art of exterminating people rapidly and efficiently, the Germans decided to
build another branch of that unusual railroad. This one started in front of the
“bathrooms” and ended at the entrance to the furnace in camp 3.
In this way the
work of manually carrying the dead to the incinerator was dispensed with, and
the time thus saved would increase the deadly capacity of Sobibor fivefold.
Before the construction of this branch line, hours and hours were spent in
taking the corpses to the furnace located at a little distance from the
yard. Only after they had emptied the
“bathrooms” could a new batch be locked inside them to die.
All of the new
constructions had been completed extremely quickly, since there was no shortage
of Jews to do the German’s work. The foreman of the railroad building team was
a cursed SS-Unterscharführer. His name was Vallaster, and his method
of management consisted of systematically instilling terror in his workers. He
was short, of unpleasant appearance, even ugly. Violent and perverse, he sent
many Jews to their death and personally eliminated many dozens of them. He had
been carefully chosen so as to guarantee that everything would be ready in the
least possible time. He fulfilled his duties like an expert and ruthless
hangman.
… Next the Waldkommando
(Forest Commando) was created. It was composed of forty men who would be sent
to the forests to fell trees and chop wood. This wood would be used to feed the
cremation furnace. As the furnace was always on, it needed formidable amounts
of fuel. Because of this the forests were being pitilessly devastated.
To start the
work, the Nazis chose only French and Dutch Jews. After they had organised the
first commando, the men were all sent to the forests in single file, chained to
one another. The chain was attached to a handcuff on each man’s left wrist, so
that they looked like a slave contingent heading for the galleys. In their
right hand they carried an axe. The poor devils were forced to prepare the logs
which would reduce their own brothers to ashes. All the wood that was chopped
in the forests was then carried on trucks to the terminal station of the
“Loras”, since the distance to Sobibor was five to six kilometres. Then the
“Loras” did the rest by taking the cargo up to camp 3, where the logs were
piled near the furnace. The wickedness of the Germans was so great that the
only reason they did not make the poor men carry the wood to Sobibor on their
backs, was that it would mean a waste of precious time, which our persecutors
could not afford to do.
However, the Jews
from France and Holland did not cope with the arduous work in the forest for
long. They were not used to that kind of physically demanding labour, and at
the least sign of exhaustion, the Germans immediately put them to death in camp
3. The greater the need for wood, the harder the task in the forest, so that
even the strongest men were unable to bear it, collapsing from physical
exhaustion and sickness. They were always tired, bruised, and constantly
whipped by the savage members of the escort, who gave them no respite whatsoever.
They came back from the forest more dead than alive. When they were taken sick
or became weak, they were summarily excluded from the commando and sent to camp
3.
… The Bahnhof-Kommando
(Railway Station Commando) was also created. This working group was in charge
of receiving future victims. As soon as the transports arrived, they took away
all of the deportees’ luggage and put it on the “Loras”. Next, they led the
Jews to the selection in camp 1. They were also responsible for the cleaning of
the newly arrived wagons, removing the dead and the sick of that particular
transport, placing them on the “Loras”, and shipping them to camp 3. The convoy
was thus thoroughly cleansed, so that no trace of the victims was left in it.
To work on these
commandos, twenty strong Jewish boys were selected. They were all of similar
height, and the Germans provided them with blue uniforms, with caps and jackets
striped in white. When they were in formation, they looked as if they were a
platoon of well-drilled soldiers.
… On 15 May 1943,
something happened that served to prove that not all of those who lived in the
cursed camp were submissive lambs. From that day onward, the Germans began to
notice that things were no longer going the way they had planned.
In Sobibor there
was a group of Jews, mostly Polish, who were wiling to react against oppression
and the threat of death. The new group was composed, as I have mentioned
before, of twenty-eight Polish Jews, taken out of the last transport which had
come from Izbica, and twelve Dutch Jews who were already prisoners in Sobibor. The
day they had first been sent to chop wood in the forests, nearly three weeks
earlier, they noticed that the Nazis did not take them back to the camp at
lunchtime, as was usual. They would leave the camp early in the morning, chained
to one another, and head for the woods, taking with them their meagre rations,
which consisted of nothing but a piece of bread. The escort was composed of
four Nazis carrying machine-guns, and five Ukrainian guards with rifles. When
it was time for lunch the Ukrainians would stack their arms and sit beside the
Germans to eat and talk. Then the members of the Commando, chained to one
another, would gulp down their pieces of bread.
That day, perhaps
due to carelessness, or because they did not believe there was any danger of an
escape, the guards responsible for watching the Jews did not put them in chains
at meal-time. But the Ukrainians did not know that in the group were four young
men who were planning to escape, and that they would never find a better
occasion. Luck started to smile on the indomitable youths.
One of the guards
called two of the prisoners to follow him to a nearby brook. They were going to
fetch some water. The young men immediately got up, grabbed the buckets and
headed to the place the guard had mentioned. They were two robust Polish Jews –
Josef Kopf, and Szlomo Podchlebnik. Both were walking ahead of the Ukrainian, who was some
metres behind them. So they moved away from the bivouac, until they came to the
banks of the brook.
But it had not
only been to fetch the water that the guard had decided to call them. He also
intended to do some of his usual trading with the two Jews. To them, the call
to go to the place had been like a heavenly blessing, and the exceptional
opportunity could not be ignored.
As soon as they
had reached the river, the Ukrainian asked them if they had anything to trade. Podchlebnik slyly
told him that on that particular day he only had some diamonds and proffered
his hand with half- closed fingers, as if he were really holding something. The
unsuspecting guard immediately bent to look closer at the supposed precious
gems. At that exact moment, the Jew violently stabbed the guard in the stomach.
Before he could shout for help, Kopf hurled
himself on the man and beheaded him with the knife he carried. Once the
Ukrainian was dead, the two Jews took his weapons (a rifle with a fixed bayonet
and a revolver) and went back to the bivouac.
This was the best
opportunity for the two of them to escape. However, the four friends were
committed to one another on their honour, and two of them had stayed in the
bivouac. Thus, Podchlebnik and Kopf returned, very carefully picking their way
through the trees and bushes around them, until they came to the place where
the other members of the Forest Commando remained with their dangerous and well-armed
escort. As soon as they saw their
friends, they started to gesture to them from afar to try and let them know
that they had already gotten rid of the guard who had gone with them to the
river, and that they should also try and find a way to escape. In the meantime,
although they understood what had happened, the other two companions, Zyndel and Chaim,
could not do anything, since it was impossible for them to act at that moment.
Thus they decided to wait for their chance. This was not long in coming.
Their escort, now
consisting of four SS and four Ukrainians, was resting. The eight criminals had
just finished eating and were sitting on the ground, engrossed in lively
conversation. Meanwhile their rifles were stacked a little way from them. Not
far from the guards, the Jews of the Forest Commando were also resting, well
away from the Ukrainian weapons. As to the machine-guns, the Germans kept those
by their side. The final blow would have to be struck in such a way as to take
all the members of the escort by surprise. One small mistake, as unimportant as
it might seem, would endanger the success of their escape and bring about
drastic consequences. In such an event, Podchlebnik and Kopf would also
risk being killed, even if they were a little distance away from the bivouac.
A few seconds
later, one of the Germans got up and left the group, strolling towards the
Jews, as if he were taking a leisurely walk. When the officer was far enough away
from his colleagues, the other would-be escapers, Zyndel
and Chaim,
hurled themselves on him as fast as lightning, brandishing their sharp knives.
With well-aimed blows the SS-man was felled and fell down on the ground,
writhing with pain. This was the sign for flight. With one exception, all of the
Polish Jews in the large group promptly rose to their feet and hurriedly left
the place, disappearing into the forest. The Germans and Ukrainians were so
surprised that they stood there petrified. Before they could recover from the
shock and get hold of their weapons, precious seconds had elapsed, enough for
the fleeing band to get out of sight and put a great distance between them and
their guards. The bandits had just suffered a tremendous blow with the loss of
two of their men, and it took some time for them to regain their composure and to
start to react to the escape.
The twenty-seven Polish
members of the Waldkommando were out of sight of the Germans, who hunted
them in despair, sweeping the woods without finding anything. The brave Jews
had disappeared without leaving any traces and the Germans seemed to be totally
disoriented, shouting orders in the forest that were only answered by their
meaningless echoes. As to the twelve Dutch Jews who also belonged to this
legendary Forest Commando, they were nothing but poor devils. They had been so
frightened that they never even rose from their places. Immediately after the
Nazi officer had been killed, they raised their arms and were surrounded by the
Ukrainians. Incidentally, this enabled the escapees to gain time and
consequently, distance. The guards could not pursue them straight away, because
they were too worried about the harmless Dutchmen. The total lack of initiative
on the latter’s behalf prevented them from following the brave Poles. They had
held everything in their hands, but they had not known how to make use of the
panic that reigned over the enemy, and had preferred to submit, thus wasting
the last and only chance which came their way. They paid very dearly for their
inertia and their unfortunate lack of courage. They were immediately put in chains
and taken back to Sobibor, where they arrived in the late afternoon.
Soon, the trills
of a whistle were heard, which meant a general roll-call, summoning all the
Jews to take up formation. All of us then gathered and waited for what was going
to come. The crowd was led to the vicinity of camp 2, and there we were given
the order to place ourselves in a long semi–circle.
As soon as we had
done so, the twelve Dutch Jews in chains were shown to us, followed by the
Ukrainians. The bandits put them one beside the other, about thirty metres in
front of us. Then they shot them all before us. With this inhuman act, the
Germans expected to discourage any other similar attempt to escape. However,
the Dutchmen deserve an honourable mention.
Their fate
brought something to our attention. Even if they were innocent and obedient, they
were going to be punished for something they had not done. They had not fought
their captors. On the contrary, they had submitted without the least
resistance. They were brave men – honour to them. They faced the firing squad
without a word of protest, without a gesture of defiance. None of them asked
for mercy, and they stood upright, serenely waiting for the murderer’s bullets.
There was no sign of fear on their faces and they even seemed pleased at being
only one step away from eternal freedom. They had not learned to live like the
others, but they had known how to die like no one else.
Among the
twenty-seven Polish Jews who had participated in the spectacular escape of the Waldkommando,
three are old friends of mine and are still alive.
One of them is
named Chaim Korenfeld and he lives in the
state of Sao Paulo, Brazil. The other two, Zyndel and Podchlebnik, live
in the United States of America.
… In the middle
of September [1943], a transport came to Sobibor which would change the course
of the history of the cursed camp. It had come from Russia and from it were
taken fifty men, all of them physically fit for hard labour.
They were Russian
Jews serving in the Soviet Army who had fallen into the hands of German troops
during a battle. Although they were actually prisoners of war, they had ended
up in Sobibor solely because they were Jews. Among these Russian Jews there was
an officer in the Russian Army. As soon as we learned about his rank, we
started to call him “Politruk”, since he had been a political officer.
His name was Sasha Pechersky. He now lives in
the Soviet Union.
.. Hours went by
… until the lights were turned out and complete darkness enveloped the camp,
and then only whispers could be heard. It was in one of these opportunities
that Lajbu, the Rabbi’s son, had his first
contact with the Russian Jew, Sasha, the “Politruk”.
On the following day, Lajbu came to me and
murmured the results of his interview with the “Politruk”. He told me Sasha had said that one of the Ukrainian guards had
informed him about something which was very serious. The guard told the “Politruk”,
in secret, that due to the successive defeats suffered by the German armies on
all fronts, they were thinking of closing Sobibor, probably before 15th
October.
I was astonished
at this report and started to think that perhaps the dramatic news was groundless;
I came to the point of imagining that Sasha’s mysterious revelations to Lajbu were part of
a stratagem to incite us to rebellion. I found it impossible to believe that a
Ukrainian guard would dare to tell a Russian Jew such an important secret.
… 14th
October 1943 was dawning. It was a day like any other. We rose at our usual
hour and went to the yard so that the general roll-call could be taken.
Immediately afterwards we headed for our individual work details. It is true that
our hopes of escaping were very small, but we were absolutely certain that we
would kill a lot of Germans in the attempt. At midday we stopped for lunch. We
used these few moments to get together for the last time and make sure that all
of us had his group ready to perform their individual tasks. I then told Moisze and Jankus about my
mission, since Nojech
already knew all about it. My brother received the news in absolute
tranquillity, but Jankus, the youngest and
most sensitive of the group, could not hold back his tears and was deeply
moved. After the roll-call, which would be the last one for us, we went back to
work.
At about 3:30 p.m.,
elegantly riding his beautiful horse, the acting commander-in-chief, Niemann, came to the
tailor’s shop to try on his new uniform, which had been made for him by the
tailor, Mundek.. The officer was an enthusiastic
horseman, and used to ride through various areas of the camp. He reined his
horse in front of the shed, and a Jewish boy immediately ran to hold the
animal’s bridle while the imposing SS-man dismounted. Niemann entered the
tailor shop and Mundek promptly produced the
jacket for him to try on. While he was putting it on, Mundek tried to divert
his attention, by turning Niemann’s back to the mirror. The German let the tailor
do with him as he pleased, as he did not suspect the trap which had been set
for him.
Meanwhile, Oberscharführer Graetschus, with
his impudent face and grotesque gait ,
headed for the shoemaker’s shop to fetch a pair of boots he had ordered. This NCO
was the commander–in–chief of the Ukrainian guards, and his activities extended
over the whole group. The German entered the shack and was promptly asked to
sit on a bench, while Szol, the shoemaker went for the boots. In the same way that things had happened in
the tailor’s shop with Niemann, the Nazi had just been lured into a trap without
suspecting anything.
While these
events were taking place in Camp 1 and we were sending minute reports about
them to our colleagues in Camp 2, the latter answered by sending us some
heartening news. They had already stabbed to death three terrible German
officers : Vallaster, Nowak, and Beckmann. In that
place, the plan was being followed to the letter and everything was going well.
In the tailor’s
shop, while Mundek tried the uniform on Niemann, in one of the rooms was a well hidden brave
Russian youth, who was one of the fifty Jews taken from the transport which had
come from the Soviet Union, and in which the “Politruk” had also arrived.
The boy held a sharp axe in his hand and was only waiting for the right moment.
At the same time that the tailor pretended to be fixing the collar of the
jacket , he turned the officer in the ideal position for the blow to be struck.
When the moment came, the youth left his refuge, tiptoed towards the German and
spilt Niemann’s head with his axe. The acting commandant of Sobibor was out of
the fight, the first to die.
Minutes later, at
the shoemakers, the Nazi Graetschuss was
sitting, calmly waiting for Szol to bring him
his boots. He, too, did not know that inside the shed there was someone in
hiding, holding an axe. Instead of getting his boots, what the gangster
received was a violent blow with that weapon. Graetschuss
did not die right away, and desperately tried to shout, but this was prevented by
the quick
action of Szol and the rest of his group. While
the chief shoemaker covered the German’s mouth with his own hands, the others
fell on him and finished the killing with axes and knives. The body was
immediately hidden in one of the rooms inside the shed and any trace of what
had occurred was removed from the front room.
After the second
German had been eliminated, we sent a message to camp 2 and in answer they told
us what was happening there. In the two camps a total of five officers had
already been wiped off the map. Meanwhile, at the tailor’s, as soon as he had
killed the commandant, Lerner had taken
possession of Niemann’s gun, a magnificent “Walter” pistol, duly loaded.
Outside the shop, the boy who had been holding the horse’s bridle and who had
been drilled before hand, had left, taking the horse with him to the stables so
as not to arouse suspicion. Armed with his pistol, Lerner
had also left the shop where he had just played his important role.
Before all these
blows had been struck, simultaneous and deadly, I had been told to go to the
tailor’s shop immediately the commandant of Sobibor had been eliminated. As
soon as I heard about it, I hurried there and saw an impressive scene. The
hat-maker, who also worked there, had been taken by a severe nervous fit and
was in hysterics. He had grabbed some large scissors he had found in the shop,
and using one blade as a dagger, had hurled himself on Niemann’s
body. In a rage, he started to stab the dead German with all his power. With
each blow that he struck he called out the
names of his wife and children, who had been exterminated at Sobibor. Taken by
actual lunacy, his clothes literally covered with blood, the hatter would have cut
the body of the Untersturmführer to pieces if it had not been for our prompt intervention. We pulled him
away forcefully from the ex-commandant’s body and tied him up so as to be able
to completely restrain him. Then he was kept in the next room until he was able
to recover his balance. As to Niemann’s body,
it was hidden under one of the bunks in the shop. We quickly began to cover up
the traces left on the stage of such a violent scene. We put some bundles of
cloth on the ground to cover any bloodstains, so as to not attract the
attention of anyone who might accidentally enter.
As a matter of
fact we came to a peremptory decision – after the death of the first bandit,
any other Scharführer or Ukrainian
who entered the workshops or any other room in camp 1, would be summarily
eliminated. The moment the leader of the camp had been killed we had immediately
informed all the rebelling groups that there could now no longer be any retreat.
Whether we wanted it or not, the uprising was now irreversible. The plan had to
go on, whatever the end might be. In the meantime everything was quiet in
Sobibor.
It was only
thirty minutes until the whistle to end the day’s work would be blown and the
moment had finally come for me to play my role. I began right away. To perform
my task and distract the guards, I went to my shop and picked up some tools and
a thick tin pipe, one of those used in the chimneys of the stoves which heated
the lodgings of the Ukrainian guards, which I was responsible for maintaining. Next
I went to the Ukrainian’s shack under the pretext I had to fix something there.
I climbed onto the roof and started to do something with the chimney,
pretending I was fixing it. I stayed there for a few minutes so as to make my
intentions very clear. Soon afterwards I climbed down, this time to fix the stove,
since I needed a reason to be inside the place should any guard come in and ask
me what I was doing. I faced two Jewish boys who worked there and made sure
there was no one else inside. Luck still smiled on me. These two boys were
responsible for cleaning the quarters and they also ran some other errands for
the Ukrainians. They were even younger than my nephew.
Inside the shed,
which was rather ample, there was a partition dividing the room so as to
reserve a section of the quarters for the higher ranking guards of the
abominable organization. I began to study the place, while the two youths
stared at me. They were very surprised when I headed for the place where the
weapons were kept.
I threw a greedy
glance at the machine-guns, right there within my reach. These weapons were
only used by the sergeants and the higher ranking elements. I finally
controlled my impulse to take these guns, since neither I nor the others knew how
to use them, and they would not fit in the metal pipe I carried. Beside everything
else, I was unaware of whether the machine-guns were loaded or not, since I
knew nothing about that kind of armament. I then turned my eyes to the rifles
and soon noticed that they were accompanied by their own cartridge belts and a
lot of ammunition. However, I was not in a hurry to take them right away, since
I had to wait for the exact moment when people would come back from work. I did
not think I was running a serious risk at the time, since the main Nazi leaders
who could have sounded the alarm were already out of the fight. We had agreed
beforehand that I would only leave with the weapons when the work in the shops
had finished and all were heading back to our quarters. I waited for some more
minutes and then I heard the characteristic German song that the Jews were
forced to sing when they came back from their daily tasks. This was the moment
for me to act.
The initial plan
had determined that three rifles should be taken away and hidden inside the
long thick pipe I had taken with me for that purpose. Thus I would be able to
take them back to camp 1 without raising any suspicion. Something unexpected
happened though.
None of the rifles
would fit inside the pipe, since the head of the bolt did not allow it to be
inserted, and I did not know how to remove the bolt. For this reason, as soon
as I heard the song, I wrapped the rifles in a blanket and asked the astonished
boys to hand the bundle to me through the window, since I intended to collect
it from the outside. However, they were terribly frightened and they refused to
do what I told them to. The moment was not one for arguments and I had no other
choice but to threaten to kill them by unsheathing my knife. With the gleam of
the blade in their eyes, the poor creatures, who did not understand anything,
decided to obey me. I went out of the shed with my empty pipe in my hand and my
pockets full of cartridges. I quickly went around the building and stopped
before the window where I received my bundle containing the weapons. I then
walked to my destination, hardly able to carry all of my awkward load, since
the pipe was still in my hand. Luck was still on my side. I had crossed the
officer’s yard and I was already heading for the kitchen in camp 1, yet I had
not met a single guard.
When I arrived at
my destination there was a group waiting for me, made up of my three relatives
and the young Russian Jews who were going to use the weapons. At the same time,
the large mass of workers was returning from work, singing and getting nearer
and nearer to the kitchen. My mission had been thoroughly successful and we
were in possession of three precious rifles and plenty of ammunition. As soon
as they saw the weapons, the Russians claimed them, as had been previously
decided. However, I changed my mind and told them that as I was the one who had
obtained them, I would have to have one. They insisted on having all three
weapons, alleging that I did not know how to use a rifle. I was adamant and my
point of view finally prevailed. The truth is that I had become so enthusiastic
about the weapon that I went back on my former decision. I handed them the rest
of the weapons and plenty of ammunition, but I kept some for myself. Once this
impasse had been solved, I asked them to teach me how to fire the gun, as I
still did not know most of the essential facts about how to handle it. After
some brief instruction, I felt able to use it. Still in the kitchen, now alone
with my relatives, I told them that we should try to be together in our last
moments.
When the
multitude of Jews came to the yard, the great majority went into formation for
the roll-call. They were those who knew nothing about the rebellion. However,
those who were aware only pretended to get in line, since they expected the
mutiny to start within the next few minutes. There were still ten minutes to go
until the counting started when Kapo Pozycki
started to trill his whistle like mad, thus causing some tumult in the camp. He
was one of us.
After he had
heard the first unexpected whistles, the new Kapo commander, the Dutch Jew who
had replaced Berliner, went immediately to Pozycki, shouting
that it was not yet time for the call and harshly scolding him for what had
been done. But the interference of the Dutch Jew was meaningless. That
desperate whistling was the signal we had agreed on to begin the general onrush
and start the great uprising. It was the beginning of the end.
When we saw the
Chief Kapo rush at him, the brave Pozycki drew
his knife in order to receive him properly. I never learned what happened between
the two of them because at that moment the different groups of rebels, who had deliberately
stayed in the workshops, started to appear from all sides, armed with axes,
bludgeons and knives. Meanwhile, all those who had firearms, taken from the Nazis
who had been killed, started to shoot in the air, thus making the havoc even
worse. An attempt was made to gather the mob, who had run in all directions, into
a single group. Then with Nojech, Moisze, and Jankus by my side, I ran very fast to join the giant
mass of people. There were about five or six hundred Jews, men and women, shouting
and running around like lunatics. Ahead of them all, the Russians were shouting
– “For Stalin!” Many were firing shots in the
air, to the right and to the left, shouting hurrahs. Others brandished axes,
bludgeons and an infinity of instruments which could serve as weapons.
All of those who
had not previously been aware of the rebellion joined us, and the turmoil was
such that it became impossible to control. There are no words to describe the
fantastic reality of that human avalanche, which came close to being
unimaginable. The brutish amalgam of maddened people started to then move
towards the exit of camp 1. In the meantime, a smaller group, perhaps thinking that
they were smarter than the others, left the main body of prisoners and hurled
themselves against the fences, where there were also anti-tank ditches and
mines. They thought they could cross there. From this unwise group we do not
know whether any escaped because, in a few minutes, the burst of explosives
started to be heard, thus increasing the general disorder and serving to alert
the guards in the towers. The latter had already noticed that something strange
was happening, since they heard the first shots and the clamour. However, they
had been perplexed and disoriented, and were late in reacting. Only on hearing
the explosion of the mines did they start to shoot at the crowd. The entire
security system of the camp had been taken by surprise and it seemed as if not
even the machine-gun towers were manned at that moment.
Meanwhile, the
majority of the crowd ran straight towards the gate which led into the officer’s
yard and to the Ukrainian guard’s quarters. The gate was usually open. At that
moment, furiously pedalling his cycle, a guard was entering camp 1. He probably
did not realise anything was amiss, and he had not noticed the human mass which
inexorably ran toward him. When he became aware of what was happening, it was
already too late. He died instantly, crushed by the crowd, torn to pieces by
the hundreds of feet of that indomitable mass.
The deranged
crowd now entered the officer’s yard, right into the sector where most of the
German quarters were located. Near one of the buildings there were two of the
criminals. By their uniforms we could see they were a Ukrainian officer and a
guard. We saw the Nazi gesture as if he were commanding the guard to do
something. When they noticed the crowd, they tried to run away, but it was too
late. The tightly packed multitude attacked them and they were torn to pieces. While
this took place in the sector I was in, on the opposite side of the human
flood, other officers and Ukrainians had come to the same end. All of them had
been trampled and torn to pieces, crushed under the weight of hundreds of Jews,
who turned everything which came their way into dust.
The
uncontrollable avalanche now headed straight to the three parallel fences near
the main exit of Sobibor. The first two crumpled as if they were made of paper.
The third one, which meant freedom, also fell under the impact of the solid
mass which pressed against it. By then, all along the broken fences in that
sector, the ground was covered with bodies. The vanguard of the multitude had
been pushed onward by those who followed, and were torn to shreds by the barbed
wire. Even if they had not wanted to throw themselves against the barbed wire
fences and intended to stop, they could not have prevented themselves from
being constantly pushed forward by the disorderly mob, which thought only of
freedom. They were the heroes who blazed the way for the rest of us, and paid
very dearly for their position in the vanguard.
Stepping over
dozens of corpses, the remainder of the mob continued to move forward. Suddenly
the mines started to explode. This area did not have any ditches, but it was
heavily mined up to the main gate. Among the boom of the explosions and a sea
of fragmented bodies, the maddened mass continued ahead, heedless of anything
else. Once more, the dozens of Jews who were running in front opened the way
for those who came behind, at the cost of their own lives. Nothing would be
able to restrain that mob in its frantic racing.
At that time, I
had not yet crossed the fences and I had lost contact with Nojech, Moisze, and Jankus. I tried to
stop for a while to avoid being forced into the front lines. I intended to stay
at the back, since no reaction was coming from the Germans. Only the nearest towers
fired some shots towards the fleeing multitude. It was then that I aimed my
rifle at one of the towers and fired four shots, almost at random. I later
learned that one of these stray bullets had killed a guard.
I did not try to
reload the rifle, since I did not know how to do it correctly and also because
I suddenly found myself virtually alone. I started running towards the crowd
which was already quite a way ahead of me. Then I crossed the broken fences and
stepped over the dozens of bodies, victims of the barbed wire and the mines. Running
frantically, I soon caught up with the others. All of us kept sprinting for the
woods, moving as we had never done before.
The expected
reaction from the Nazis never came. The defection of Germans and Ukrainians had
been great and very few still dared to man their posts and try to put an end to
the uprising. Many machine-guns nestling in the high towers never even fired a
single shot. The oppressors thought they were brave and the masters of the
world; however, they were terrified at the momentum of the poorly armed Jewish
prisoners. When they realised their leaders had been killed they were afraid of
suffering the same fate, and hid behind their own inertia. They understood then
that no more were we submissive puppets to be manipulated at their will. We were no longer the same as we had been in
Sobibor. The only thing that mattered to us now was our thirst for revenge and
freedom.
To get to the
thickest part of the woods we had to cross a wide clearing the Germans had
created in order to prevent the forest from being too close to the camp. Trees
had been felled throughout the entire area. I ran on, thinking of the relatives
I had lost sight of amidst the havoc of the hour of flight. I did not have the
slightest idea whether they had succeeded in escaping or had died in the camp.
From that moment on I began to hear shots coming from all directions. The Nazis
were recovering from their initial shock and were hunting for us.
In a crazed rush,
we finally entered the thickest part of the forest. We had no certain
destination; each person tried to follow the next, as we thought that someone
must know where he was going. However, we all shared a common aim – to get as
far as possible from Sobibor.