It took a few hours to complete our processing. I sat on a bunk across from the Block’s heating pipe, which ran the length of the barracks. I stared at the steel pipe in a futile attempt to keep my mind off of my predicament.
Herbert climbed up on the stool again.
“Those colored triangles next to your numbers aren’t there for decoration. They signify why you are here, because we are all in this camp for a reason. Red triangles are political prisoners, anti-fascists, communists, socialists, what have you. Black is for lazy, drunken bums who were sabotaging ‘the fatherland.’ Purple means you’re here for your religious beliefs. Yellow is for Jews and Jews only, and green signifies German criminals. I am sure you’ve noticed that I have a yellow and a green triangle. Take a good look, because you probably won’t see another one like it in the camp.”
The only colored triangles I saw around me were yellow and red; mine was red.
“Oh, and I almost forgot,” Herbert smiled. “Pink signifies homosexual, so it would be wise not to bend over when you are next to a ‘pinkie’ in the shower.”
There were a few half-hearted laughs. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.
“Soon you will be housed in another Block and assigned to a Kommando (work detail) depending on your aptitude and experience. Follow the orders of your Kapo (supervisor) and Vorarbeiter (foreman) or you will be punished. If you’re caught trying to escape you will be executed, and remember that nobody likes to stand in the cold while you are hanging. Stay in a perfect line when being counted and do not speak. Remove your cap in the presence of a German officer or guard or you will be punished. You will receive a meal in the morning and in the evening. You will also receive one at noon if you work in the factory. If you’re sick you may report to the HKB. Do not stay in there too long or you will be shipped to Birkenau and, trust me, that will be the end of you. If you get the crud or ringworm, you will stay at the Krätzeblock, where they’ll have you sleep in blankets soaked in kerosene. Again, do not stay too long. Every day check the seams of your clothes for lice. They carry typhus. Crack the lice between your thumbnails.”
Someone raised his hand. “May I ask a question?”
Herbert wrinkled his forehead. “About what?”
“Are there any bedbugs?”
Herbert managed a grin. “Oh, yes. And these little fellows are fast. Use a bar of soap to catch them on your mattress. Smash it down on them and they’ll be stuck to it. You’d better be quick with that soap, because the one you do not kill you’ll blow out your nose in the morning.”
A few men laughed.
“It’s not funny; they bite. All right, keep clean and good luck.”
Herbert hopped off the stool and went into his private quarters, pulling the curtain closed behind him. His Stubendienste (barracks foremen) lined us up and doled out our mess kits, a spoon, and a new white-enamel bowl. We then received our first meaclass="underline" a piece of brown bread, a small square of margarine, and a ladle of a warm, dark water they called coffee. Was that all? We hadn’t eaten for over forty-eight hours. Were the Nazis experiencing a food shortage? At least that would explain the condition of those skeletons on the truck.
Everyone filtered through the four rows of bunks to stake out a place to eat and sleep. I went back to that bottom bunk and gobbled up my meal without tasting it. The man sitting next to me picked at his bread. He was distressed that the Stubendienst who had given him his mess kit snickered when he asked how he could find out where his family was. Silently I climbed up to the top bunk and stretched out on the burlap-covered mattress. I pulled the blanket over me. The mattress’s straw stuffing crackled as I tried to make myself comfortable. In spite of myself, I pondered where Stella was and what she was doing, and what would happen if I never saw her again. Thankfully, sleep spared me from torturing myself for long.
I awoke in the middle of the night with gut-wrenching cramps. I should have listened to the man from the HKB. That shower water was hellishly potent. The Häftling on watch had fallen asleep, so I easily ducked outside unnoticed. There was an outhouse close by, but there was only one way of relieving myself and retrieving my ring. The cramps tore at my belly, and I barely had enough time to take down my pants. Lucky for me, the searchlight didn’t sweep where I squatted. Once I was finished I found a twig and after a little digging I had my ring.
The next morning, Herbert had us line up outside. At his side was his interpreter, Max. A severe beating hadn’t deterred him. I respected his persistence, but questioned whether it would ultimately pay off. Herbert stared at us with his piercing blue eyes as if to read our minds.
“Wer hat hinter den Block geschissen?”(Somebody crapped behind the Block. Who was it?)
While Max translated, Herbert’s fury drained the color from his face. We all stood in silence. I hadn’t breathed a word to anyone about the cramps or my ring, which was now hidden in the shoulder of my jacket.
“Am I to believe that this shit fell from heaven?” Herbert’s voice trembled. “Stand at attention!”
We did as he ordered.
“You’ll stand here until whoever did it gives himself up!” Herbert stormed back into the Block.
I couldn’t believe he was making an issue of this. If I had known, I would have buried my mess. Damn it! Shortly afterwards, our soup was delivered and Herbert had them leave the steaming cauldrons in front of the Block’s door. I was in a panic. I was hungry and freezing, and I knew the men standing around me were, too. What should I do? I wanted to come forward because of the suffering I was causing, but I was frightened of what was in store for me if I confessed. As time crept by, guilt devoured me. No, I couldn’t stand silent any longer. I took a deep breath and stepped out of line.
Herbert was standing at the Block’s threshold. I climbed the steps as if mounting the hangman’s scaffold.
“So it was you!”
As he spoke I wanted to jump back, giving some excuse for having gone up there, but all I could do was stare at my feet. Herbert took my silence for an admission and his fist sent me rolling down the steps. He pounced on me, grabbed me by the neck, and with strength surprising for one that small, dragged me into the Block. I hardly had time to realize what was happening when a rubber hose came down on my ass. I gritted my teeth to keep from crying out. Each blow straightened me up. It felt like an electric shock shooting through my body.
“Bend over!” Herbert screamed.
I jerked up again. A blow over the head knocked me unconscious.
I awoke on the cold floor, unsure what had happened to me. I had dreamt that I was sitting on a hot stove, but the searing sensation had followed me into consciousness. How could that be? Hit with a blinding torrent of pain, I remembered. I rolled onto my belly, but that did nothing to alleviate the agony. Hot tears rolled down my face as I bit into the sleeve of my jacket.
Certainly I hadn’t deserved such a punishment. I had never beaten my dog when he did his “doodoo” in my room. What gave these men the right to thrash us? They weren’t SS. Wasn’t it enough to be imprisoned, to have lost one’s freedom? Weren’t we all comrades in misfortune who should be aiding, not trying to kill each other? I passed my hand over my jacket. The ring was still there in the seam. At least it hadn’t been all for nothing, I consoled myself as I crawled to my bunk and slipped into a pain-induced stupor.