Read Online Cimmerian: A Novel of the Holocaust by Ronald Watkins - Free Book Online
Authors: Ronald Watkins
Ads: Link
Judenrampe. He shouted, or reasoned, or beat. In the end he did as they all did because nothing else would stop it. He shot the women.
Max said even a mongrel dog had some feeling for her pups so it was natural that even subhuman Jews, Polacks and Slovaks felt something for their children.
They separated the men, shoving the families into another line. If the families were left together the fathers became protective and that led to trouble. If anyone objected for more than an instant they were shot.
Those who became deranged rent their clothes, disrobed, muttered gibberish. If manageable, they were sent to the shower; if not, they were shot and left to the LeichnamKommando.
Infants were left with mothers, but not all mothers wanted them. One mother, perhaps nineteen or so, left a small child to join a different queue in the Administration Block. Perhaps she had heard or guessed that her chances for living were better if she did not have a child. Mothers whose children were gassed usually lapsed into depression and were rarely fit workers. It was easier to gas them also and save the work for the single girls. This mother slipped into a queue at the Political Section but her little girl kept calling out for her. A guard immediately saw who the mother was -- he had witnessed this before -- and said: “What’s the matter, bitch? Ashamed of the little swine you swat into the world?” The mother continued ignoring her child. The guard pushed the two-year-old girl to her mother and pointed her out. The mother was trying to hide in the crowd. This was creating quite a spectacle by now and everyone watched. The woman continued ignoring her daughter. The girl ran up to her and clutched her leg, crying: “Why don't you want me? I’m afraid Mama!”
“Mama! Mama!” the guards watching taunted. “Don't you want her? She seems to know you?” someone called out. “I'm not her mother!” the woman protested. “I’m not!” Everyone knew better. At last she said: “I want to live! I don’t want to die! I'm young. I want to live!” But she could stand it no more. She swept the girl up and clutched her to her, sobbing, unable to bear the guilt of betrayal any longer.
Kapo 583, a Selitian, an especially dimwitted savage, yanked the child away saying in his slurred speech: “Not yours, bitch?! Not yours?!” He swung the screaming girl into the air and crashed her skull against the floor. The mother threw herself on the body and lay there a few minutes while the Selitian said over and over dumbly: “Not yours, huh? Not yours, huh?” as if he’d discovered a secret and wanted everyone to know.
Later, Peter watched the woman carrying her daughter's dead body like a bloody doll. She was naked and went into the shower like a zombie. Kapo 486 with the SonderKommando, a Jew of course, allowed her to keep her dead child while she was gassed.
In one form or another Peter witnessed this scene every few trainloads.
After the first three cars it was usually not necessary to shoot as many to maintain order. They seemed to learn what was happening. But the searches of the cars found hidden material that had to be dragged screaming onto the Judenrampe. You would have thought by now they would know better, but it did not seem to matter.
On the Judenrampe the belongings in small parcels that stayed with the arrivals were searched on the spot. This was a popular duty Peter avoided. The larger luggage they did not carry to the Administration Block was searched by the Canada at their warehouse to the rear of the KZ under the careful eye of guards. Still, there was a great deal of stealing. He witnessed shootings or beatings to death every day for pilfering, but it did no good. Jews were born thieves.
Arrivals always had some valuables secreted on themselves or in their belongings. After all, they had been told they were being resettled. Officially everything seized was the property of the Reich and was expected to be surrendered. But
Max said even a mongrel dog had some feeling for her pups so it was natural that even subhuman Jews, Polacks and Slovaks felt something for their children.
They separated the men, shoving the families into another line. If the families were left together the fathers became protective and that led to trouble. If anyone objected for more than an instant they were shot.
Those who became deranged rent their clothes, disrobed, muttered gibberish. If manageable, they were sent to the shower; if not, they were shot and left to the LeichnamKommando.
Infants were left with mothers, but not all mothers wanted them. One mother, perhaps nineteen or so, left a small child to join a different queue in the Administration Block. Perhaps she had heard or guessed that her chances for living were better if she did not have a child. Mothers whose children were gassed usually lapsed into depression and were rarely fit workers. It was easier to gas them also and save the work for the single girls. This mother slipped into a queue at the Political Section but her little girl kept calling out for her. A guard immediately saw who the mother was -- he had witnessed this before -- and said: “What’s the matter, bitch? Ashamed of the little swine you swat into the world?” The mother continued ignoring her child. The guard pushed the two-year-old girl to her mother and pointed her out. The mother was trying to hide in the crowd. This was creating quite a spectacle by now and everyone watched. The woman continued ignoring her daughter. The girl ran up to her and clutched her leg, crying: “Why don't you want me? I’m afraid Mama!”
“Mama! Mama!” the guards watching taunted. “Don't you want her? She seems to know you?” someone called out. “I'm not her mother!” the woman protested. “I’m not!” Everyone knew better. At last she said: “I want to live! I don’t want to die! I'm young. I want to live!” But she could stand it no more. She swept the girl up and clutched her to her, sobbing, unable to bear the guilt of betrayal any longer.
Kapo 583, a Selitian, an especially dimwitted savage, yanked the child away saying in his slurred speech: “Not yours, bitch?! Not yours?!” He swung the screaming girl into the air and crashed her skull against the floor. The mother threw herself on the body and lay there a few minutes while the Selitian said over and over dumbly: “Not yours, huh? Not yours, huh?” as if he’d discovered a secret and wanted everyone to know.
Later, Peter watched the woman carrying her daughter's dead body like a bloody doll. She was naked and went into the shower like a zombie. Kapo 486 with the SonderKommando, a Jew of course, allowed her to keep her dead child while she was gassed.
In one form or another Peter witnessed this scene every few trainloads.
After the first three cars it was usually not necessary to shoot as many to maintain order. They seemed to learn what was happening. But the searches of the cars found hidden material that had to be dragged screaming onto the Judenrampe. You would have thought by now they would know better, but it did not seem to matter.
On the Judenrampe the belongings in small parcels that stayed with the arrivals were searched on the spot. This was a popular duty Peter avoided. The larger luggage they did not carry to the Administration Block was searched by the Canada at their warehouse to the rear of the KZ under the careful eye of guards. Still, there was a great deal of stealing. He witnessed shootings or beatings to death every day for pilfering, but it did no good. Jews were born thieves.
Arrivals always had some valuables secreted on themselves or in their belongings. After all, they had been told they were being resettled. Officially everything seized was the property of the Reich and was expected to be surrendered. But
Similar Books
