Part 3: Hope dies Magnus sat in the corner of the dark room. For three days he and the others had been there. No food, no water. A communal pot is once again being used. The men hadn't uttered a word to anyone, choosing instead to sit in silence. To wait . . . for what? Death, no . . . they would be dead by now if the Germans wanted that. Magnus closed his eyes trying to picture the sun and sky. To envision the reds, blues, yellows, and oranges of the sunset, to see and smell the freshness of blooming flowers; things he had not to long ago taken for granted. His eyes opened at the sound of the door being unbolted. As the door opened, Magnus squinted at the rush of light to his eyes. A tall, fat SS man stood in the door way. "Get out of here, you fucking pigs!" Magnus jumped to his feet and raced out into the yard. The others followed. Another SS man was waiting for them. He hustled them to the main gate and handed them over to two new SS Men. The men had pistols in their hands. Magnus breathed in waiting for a bullet to enter his skull, it never happened. The men shouted for them to run. They did. After about 100 meters a flat-roofed building was before them. A strange round, red-brick chimney rose up into the sky. They were herded through a wooden gate. The gate closed, leaving the world behind them. Down stairs. To an entrance. A tall SS man with a mustache greeted them with the words, "Get inside, you scum!" Magnus felt the sting of a horsewhip on his back. Inside the building were many doorways-which way to go? The men looked around bewildered. "Through the middle, blode Hunde!" the man yelled. [3] A damp stench of dead bodies and a cloud of fumes enveloped them. Magnus looked on. He could see two large ovens and soon many men running about with the Star of David on their uniforms. They were herded on. Magnus looked to the side. A truck with corpses was pulling up. He looked away. Him and others were herded into another room. His eyes widened as he entered. In piles on the floor . . . bodies . . .men, women . . .children . . . He stood paralyzed in horror. What was he suppose to do? The blow of the whip connected with his back. "Strip the bodies!" Before Magnus laid the corpse of a young boy-nine, ten years old. Magnus removed the shoes, untying the laces carefully but quickly. Then the socks, pants, etc. . . . He moved to the next corpse. It was a young woman. He removed the shoes putting them with the boys. As he removed her stockings they tore. A blow connected with his back. "What the hell are y'doing! These are to be used again." Magnus nodded and continued to undress the woman. It was if he was hypnotized, obeying each order immediately. The fear of more blows, the stench, the view of hundreds of corpses piled high, biting smoke, humming fans, and the flickering of the flames had paralyzed his senses of orientation and ability to think. As Magnus moved to the next corpse he stifled a gasp. It was a little girl, no more than six-years-old. Her eyes were closed and her faced scrunched up, an image of fright plastered on it. He bit back tears. He removed the girl's clothes. His eyes downcast, not looking at the others. Trying to keep his mind only on the work he was doing. He couldn't. His mind floated to images of his family and parents . . . Abby. All were lost to him. And Dara . . .he moved to the next corpse. There was no camp for the children and elderly. He knew now that Dara was dead. There was no way she could have survived if the others had all perished. Little Dara, "Magnus! I shall never see you again! Magnus!" . . . he had thought she was being childish. She would be fine, he'd see her again . . . He had hoped so much that she would live, that she wouldn't die, not like Abby or his mother and father . . . There was a gasp from another man by him. Magnus looked over. The man held a two-year-old boy in his arms. "Mathew! No! No, no, no . . ." The man screamed louder cradling the child against him. Magnus watched as two SS men walked over to him. The child was ripped from his grasp and thrown back into the pile. Magnus turned away trying not to listen to the sound of the whip and fists against the man's skin. "You and you, with me!" Magnus walked over to an SS Man. He and another man were led back to the room with the ovens. The SS Man grabbed one man by the ovens. "These two are to work with you." The SS Man left. Magnus looked at the man as he began to explain exactly how to work the ovens. ************************************************* August 1942 Magnus watched as hundreds of men, women, and children were rushed into the yard. The majority of the people were the old or very young children. Most looked exhausted. Magnus watched the 'usual' SS Men walk in, trugeons in their hands. "Get undressed. Move it you pigs!" Magnus blinked. The people stood unmoving. No one wanted to undress. They began to be beaten. Then slowly they undressed. Magnus looked at the SS Men and then back at the people. Someone must have come up with the idea that if the people undressed before hand the clothing would be neat and untorn. The people would think they would need them again. Magnus looked at a small girl holding her mother's hand. She looked like Dara. He looked down, every little girl that came in now looked like Dara. He saw her eyes whenever he closed them. Those pleading eyes, telling him that she would die. Magnus felt the whip hit him. He fell in pain as his attacker continued whipping him. "Stop! Stop you buffoon!" The whip ceased. "That one works the ovens well. Can fix them. Leave him alone. Take one of the them." Magnus looked up. The SS Man looked away from him and at the group of people. Magnus was hoisted up. "Back to the ovens!" another SS Man shouted. "We can't keep these people waiting." The SS Men grinned. Magnus ran towards the building Dara's eyes following him, tears running down his face. ************************************************* Magnus stood against the wall of the 'undressing room'. He watched as the room filled with hundreds of men, women, and children. They held one another, talking quickly. The door closed and all at once the group fell quiet, all eyes turning to the two SS officers standing at the entrance. Magnus saw that the two men stood on a wooden table. It was Aumeier and Grabner. Magnus slumped against the wall and sighed deeply. He had heard this speech many times. Aumeier stepped forward. Magnus noticed that he swaggered a bit and as he began to speak that his voice was thick with booze, it was persuasive all the same. "You have come here to work in the same way as our soldiers who are on the front do. Anybody who is able and willing to work will be fine." Aumeier stepped back and Grabner stepped forward. Magnus stared at him and then at the people. Why didn't they fight? Protest? Do something instead of just standing there? Magnus looked away from the people. He already knew the answer. These people were already dead. Their spirits broken, those who were not were held back by the others. It was easier to believe that a clean showere awaited them, not a horrid death. No one could imagine that they would die as Magnus knew they would. Struggling mass of people groping for some last patch of air. The weak being trampled by the strong ones. Children trampled to death. There was no more family unity, just survival for oneself. He watched the people walk into the chamber, a somber feeling overcomming all of them. Magnus walked to the door. He caught the glance of a young woman. She stared at him and then pulled a small child to her. She turned away and Magnus watched her kiss the child's head. He shut the door and bolted it. Magnus walked away and tried to drown out the laughter of the SS and the cries of hundreds of desperate dieing people. He could not fight, that would be a waste of his own life. He wanted to do something, help somehow, but all he could do was to continue to walk away. ************************************************* 5 November 1943 Magnus looked down at the children. There were so many. All of this transport had been children except for two men. Over five hundred little boys and girls who would never see their parents again, who would never smell fresh flowers, be kissed goodnight, or fall and hurt themselves. The younger ones would never attend school, never learn to do so many things, never have a real childhood. He bit back tears as he made his way to a young girl trying to remove the clothes of a small one-year-old boy. "No!" the girl screamed, clutching the child to her. The room became quiet, all eyes gazing at Magnus and the young girl. Magnus looked down at her and was stunned by the hatred in her eyes. "Be gone, you Jewish murderer! Don't lay your hands, dripping with Jewish blood, on my baby brother. I am his good mummy, he will die in my arms, together with me." Magnus stepped back, mouth wide. A hand clasped his arm. An eight-year-old boy stood by him. The boy looked up into Magnus' eyes, pleading. "Why, you are a Jew and you lead such dear children to the gas only in order to live? Is your life among the band of murderers really dearer to you than the lives of so many Jewish victims?" Magnus backed away, hands flying to his face. He closed his eyes, falling to his knees. He began to fee; dizzy, sick. Images of his family, of Dara flickered passed his eyes. He covered his ears trying to drown out the cries of babies. How could he just sit here? How could he just let it happen, do nothing to try and stop I? How could he continue to live like this? Magnus felt his body be hoisted up and dragged away. Tears fell from his eyes, staining his face and clothes. He felt himself be dropped to a floor and a door closed. Magnus curled up against the cold, damp floor, wanting to die. ************************************************* Magnus felt a sudden splash of cold water hit his face. His eyes snapped open and he moved to the corner of the room. Three figures stood before him. He recognized all of them but only knew the name of the tallest-Franz. Franz sat down by him and pushed a cup into his hands. Magnus drunk the liquid slowly, ignoring the desire he had to gulp it down. If he did he would just feel sick. "You have to be the luckiest boy I know," Franz said handing him some bread. "The guards usually kill anyone who breaks down like you did." Magnus stopped drinking and looked up at Franz. He wanted to tell him that he wished he was dead. He couldn't find his voice though. Instead, he handed the bread back to Franz. The smallest man knelt down and took the bread from Franz. He handed it to Magnus who just stared at it. "You have to eat! You have to fight them, Magnus," Franz said frustrated. "Why?" Magnus croaked. "All my family is gone. I have no reason to fight them." "Yes you do." Franz grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him. "You need to be here so when the world ends you can tell the world-" "And until then I shall help them kill millions of children!?!" He pushed Franz away. "Do you know what the boy said to me? No, you don't, but he was right. How can I just sit by and do nothing." Franz sat back, speechless. The short man spoke, "You are right, Magnus-" "Then leave me be!" Magnus shouted angrily. The man continued. "For weeks now, myself and others have been discussing a plan. We need help. People who would risk going to the other camp sections and delivering and returning messages. There is always the chance of being caught and killed." Magnus stared at the man for a few minutes. "I suppose that dying that way would be more . . . honorable." ************************************************* Darkness surrounded the fifteen-year-old. Magnus watched the two guards in the watchtower as he hid in the shadows. As they turned their backs to him, he sprinted across the yard to the electrical fence and quickly, but carefully, crawled through the whole that was in it. Then he sprinted again, stopping in the shadows along the crematorium building's wall. Carefully he made his way to his barrack and removed the two wooden planks. He crawled inside and smiled to the group who was standing in front of the planks and 'talking'. He quickly put the planks back on and stood up. The men dispersed around the room. Magnus walked over to the group playing poker. He sat down by Kaminski. He still could not believe that this short, old man was one of the leaders in the resistance. Magnus watched the guard turn to open the door and he quickly put a piece of paper in Kaminski's pocket. Magnus sighed and lay back. He smiled to himself as he allowed his body the sleep it so desperately needed. Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com