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Authors: Maria Anglada
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reason Daniel wasn’t particularly alarmed when an unfamiliar kapo showed up at his shop two or three days later looking for him. He figured it was to take him to the Commander’s house. He had almost decided, as he was putting away his tools, that he’d ask how much time he had to make the violin. I’ll ask him, he thought, in a way that he’ll never suspect a thing, as if I believe the Commander needs the violin for a concert. But the kapo had come for a different reason.
“To the clothing workshop, you and the cabinetmaker, and fast,” he ordered. But when Daniel didn’t budge, he gave him a shove and yelled, “Schnell, schnell!”
Daniel was nervous as he followed the kapo. He needed all the time he had to craft the violin; if he was deprived of any of it, he’d never be able to finish. What could they want with him at the clothing workshop? He didn’t know how to iron or sew like a tailor. The only thing that occurred to him was that they might want him to wash the dead prisoners’ clothes; they were always reused.
It had been months since Daniel had seen a robust, attractive woman up close, and he found himself fascinated by the body of the baton-wielding SS woman. She was guarding a group of pale, thin women and girls who were sorting and ironing a pile of clean clothes. With a quick glance, Daniel realized some were children’s clothes, from the few children who had been living in the camp before the selection. The clothes that were too ragged and couldn’t be mended had been placed in a separate pile, probably to make paper pulp. Daniel was well aware that everything in the camp, even old teeth, was put to some use.
The group of “healthy” prisoners hadn’t had their teeth examined, but he had spotted the line of sickly prisoners being examined by a dentist with a brush and a can of paint on his desk. After the Spring Cleaning the prisoners had learned that tongues of paint had marked the naked bodies of prisoners with gold teeth.
Daniel had not been summoned to wash clothes. He, the cabinetmaker, and two other prisoners were escorted to a squat, skillful tailor who measured them and had them try on some reasonably new clothes. The guard was told to bring them back the following day for another fitting. Then the men were taken away. It wasn’t that he didn’t need new garments. The ones they wore—all the prisoners—were so threadbare that they hadn’t protected them from the cold that winter, and pneumonia had ravaged the prisoners. But why would their captors bother to give the men decent sets of clothes?
The four of them talked it over as they left the tailor, but none could figure it out. One of the men had noticed that the jacket he tried on was thicker, well lined, and suggested that maybe they would be sent to a colder camp, farther north. But that was absurd; the Nazis never worried about their health! Daniel brushed the matter aside, having no desire to rack his brains for an explanation, and he and the cabinetmaker returned to the carpenters’ shop.
On the following day, in the faltering light of early morning, new suits were distributed to Daniel and the others and a few alterations made. They were issued shoes, and as they were putting them on, one of the most feared, most cruel Untersturmführers stormed in, accompanied by an SS girl with a camera. The prisoners were warned to obey orders without asking any questions. One order, however, proved difficult to follow. Once they were dressed according to SS tastes and their faces made up, they were instructed to smile and pretend to be freely working!
“Unless you wish to see the potatoes growing above you.”
That was the standard phrase to refer to the dead. The SS obviously wanted photographs for propaganda. They had even made a false documentary: Camp Inmates Working Happily or Each Man with a Job He Enjoys . A wave of rage surged through Daniel’s body, turning his face scarlet beneath the makeup. The SS officer grinned
“To the clothing workshop, you and the cabinetmaker, and fast,” he ordered. But when Daniel didn’t budge, he gave him a shove and yelled, “Schnell, schnell!”
Daniel was nervous as he followed the kapo. He needed all the time he had to craft the violin; if he was deprived of any of it, he’d never be able to finish. What could they want with him at the clothing workshop? He didn’t know how to iron or sew like a tailor. The only thing that occurred to him was that they might want him to wash the dead prisoners’ clothes; they were always reused.
It had been months since Daniel had seen a robust, attractive woman up close, and he found himself fascinated by the body of the baton-wielding SS woman. She was guarding a group of pale, thin women and girls who were sorting and ironing a pile of clean clothes. With a quick glance, Daniel realized some were children’s clothes, from the few children who had been living in the camp before the selection. The clothes that were too ragged and couldn’t be mended had been placed in a separate pile, probably to make paper pulp. Daniel was well aware that everything in the camp, even old teeth, was put to some use.
The group of “healthy” prisoners hadn’t had their teeth examined, but he had spotted the line of sickly prisoners being examined by a dentist with a brush and a can of paint on his desk. After the Spring Cleaning the prisoners had learned that tongues of paint had marked the naked bodies of prisoners with gold teeth.
Daniel had not been summoned to wash clothes. He, the cabinetmaker, and two other prisoners were escorted to a squat, skillful tailor who measured them and had them try on some reasonably new clothes. The guard was told to bring them back the following day for another fitting. Then the men were taken away. It wasn’t that he didn’t need new garments. The ones they wore—all the prisoners—were so threadbare that they hadn’t protected them from the cold that winter, and pneumonia had ravaged the prisoners. But why would their captors bother to give the men decent sets of clothes?
The four of them talked it over as they left the tailor, but none could figure it out. One of the men had noticed that the jacket he tried on was thicker, well lined, and suggested that maybe they would be sent to a colder camp, farther north. But that was absurd; the Nazis never worried about their health! Daniel brushed the matter aside, having no desire to rack his brains for an explanation, and he and the cabinetmaker returned to the carpenters’ shop.
On the following day, in the faltering light of early morning, new suits were distributed to Daniel and the others and a few alterations made. They were issued shoes, and as they were putting them on, one of the most feared, most cruel Untersturmführers stormed in, accompanied by an SS girl with a camera. The prisoners were warned to obey orders without asking any questions. One order, however, proved difficult to follow. Once they were dressed according to SS tastes and their faces made up, they were instructed to smile and pretend to be freely working!
“Unless you wish to see the potatoes growing above you.”
That was the standard phrase to refer to the dead. The SS obviously wanted photographs for propaganda. They had even made a false documentary: Camp Inmates Working Happily or Each Man with a Job He Enjoys . A wave of rage surged through Daniel’s body, turning his face scarlet beneath the makeup. The SS officer grinned
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