Page 185 - Musings 2020

26

Remembrances of the Past

Pradeep Saini 2017D2TS1241P

The group approached near the rusty old gates of the camp. This time of the year was the
worst in Poland. There would no longer be any flowers blooming, none of their fragrant
smells in the air nor the lush greenery which enveloped the mountains of the region. But for
the men and women, most of them in their eighties or nineties, who glared at the fences,
sometimes staring at the entrance gate – this was not the worst winter for them. Because this
was not a regular camp which regular people are so used to, this was just so different in so
many ways.

“Albeit Macht Frel” was the engraving at the top of the gate, which when translated, meant
“Work will set you free.” Yes, this was not an ordinary entrance to an ordinary location. This
was Auschwitz. Located in the very heart of Poland, today the city is so silent that nobody
would ever guess the horrors of the events which had gone by.

Here, within these gates, the silence had been occasionally being disturbed by gunshots.
These men and women were not the first time in front of this gate. They were before but in a
much different scenario. Someone arrived in the summers of 1941, another one in the spring
of 1943, and yet another one in the harsh winters of 1944.

Life in Nazi Germany would have been great, but only if you were not a Jew. Being a Jew in
Germany in those times was a license to your death. They would thrust you inside one of
their “cattle-cars” and before you would realize anything, you would be in front of the
infamous Auschwitz.

If you were lucky, you would at least get to do hard labour; if not then you would be led to
the “shower rooms” where they would gas you to death. As the group kept moving forward,
they passed through the barracks. The group discussed how hundreds of them would be
crammed into a single barrack. They wouldn’t be space to get comfortable. Morning alarms
would ring by 4 AM, and there was very little time for proper sleep.

At 4 AM, the assembly would be held in the large ground behind the barracks after which the
11-hour long work shift would begin. No breaks, no food, no rest. You rest, you get shot. You
steal food, you get hanged. And if you were lucky, you would get to be in your barrack again.
Every day would be uncertain. An old lady remarked that while she lived in Bunker-11, she
noticed how many of her friends used to disappear every day. Only later did she realise that
they were being sent to the gas chambers because they were unfit for work.

And finally, the group made its way through the crematoriums. 5 of them. It had been almost
half a century since smoke had come out of those chimneys. Many of the prisoners used to
wonder if there was some kind of a heating system inside. Smoke would come out all 24
hours of the day.

Only if you put your hand out, you would realise that even the smoke was not normal.
It had ash in it – human ash

185