The following is a dedication to all the survivors of the Holocaust. And even more, to those who didn't.
Testimony of a prisoner
It's been a nightmare ever since arrival. The first train wasn't so bad. It was the second one that I couldn't handle. We were all shoved into boxcars like sardines. They wouldn't feed us anything more than table scrap amounts for the 4 day trip to Bergen- Belsen. I was scared but had to keep calm. I knew that if I went into hysterics they would probably pull me out and kill me sooner. Although, that wouldn't be so bad. I wouldn't mind being put out of my misery. As you can see I'd only been there for 3 days and already I was ready to die. I'm one of the luckies though. I survived. The rest of my family is dead. My mother died on the bottom bunk right below me two days before my birthday. My friend chelie made it, too. When we finally got off the train we thought it was finally over. We got off and were sent to a platform. They called it the welcoming stand. My father was picked from the crowd of huddled people, dragged to the middle of the platform, and shot in the head. Five other men died that way right in front of us. I was sickened. Mother threw up, and chel did too.
I was scared because one of the soldiers walked past me smiling, and put his hand on my chin. Then we were separated and sent to our blocks. We had to strip and go back outside. I was so cold. It had been raining and the ground was muddy. The officer that had smiled at me ordered us to raise our arms and run laps in a circle. He and his men inspected us one by one, looking us up and down. He took his riding crop and smacked some of the larger women in the behinds and backs. They screamed and hunched, but kept running. If anyone slowed, he walked over and smacked them in the back with his riding crop. I felt bad. He then pointed us off one by one into different tents. There, we were sprayed with this powder and sent into another room to get our hair shaved. And I'm not kidding. They shaved everything. Head, armpits, pubic area. It was really embarrassing. Good thing I was lucky to get a female barber. She was really nice, too. We talked the whole time. She said she had been there for 5 years. She was 20 years older than me. She was as old as my mother. She was really nice.
We were all shoved off towards some big buildings. They were separate from the living blocks, which may I add were extremely packed all the time. The big buildings had showers inside. I personally wanted a shower, but some people were screaming and crying as we were shuffled in one by one. The water was turned on all at once. It was really cold. They didn't give us any towels or soap so the water didn't really help except to make us more sticky from the de-lousing powder. It only lasted a few seconds. Then they kicked us out of the rooms so the next group could come in. I had gotten there with one of the late parties in the evening. It was really cold for us because it was the middle of the winter. I was shivering and my sister and I huddled together to keep warm.
We were walked into another part of the stationary blocks and given clothing. I got a beautiful fur coat and a strange dress. The shoes I got were just the right size which was unique. I was the only one in the group whose clothing actually fit right. The woman next to me got a man's outfit and a pair of shoes much to big. The man on my other side got clothing too small along with clogs too small. It didn't really matter later, though. I saw him in the fields a couple weeks later. He fit his clothing loosely. He had become as skinny as a bean pole. My clothing soon became to big for me, as well. The rations they fed us were minimal, if edible. The bread was stail, the soup rotten, the "tea" as they called it was like water with sewerage. The only thing keeping me from throwing up was the fact that I knew I would get little if nothing else for the next 2 to 3 days. I knew I had to eat as much as possible if to live long enough to be liberated. Every waking hour was hell. I watched the people around me die. That nice barber woman died on the field five feet away from me. My friend and I carried her back for roll call, that evening.
Even the people who died during the night were not given rest. They were to be carried out to the field for roll call the next morning. The year and 3 months that I spent at Bergen-Belsen were a living, breathing nightmare that had engulfed me and the people around me. I could barely hold myself in when we were liberated. Despite the treatment I had to endure in that hell camp, I lived through and things only got better for the rest of my life.
The soldier who had smiled at me had helped in the revolution and was one of the people to liberate our camp. I married him 3 years later and we moved to America. I was a thin frail thing and people always wanted to hear my story of survival.
Note: This is not an actual survivor's account. this is only a representation of what was gone through during the Holocaust. All is truth and most more kind than the situation itself was.
