Arbeit Macht Frei

This is my most recent short story about a Jewish man living in Auschwitz right before it was liberated by the red army.

Some people always want to see the best in people.  There are many of us even today, who refuse to admit that man could be so cruel.  But I promise you that not all of mankind is good.  I have looked the devils on mankind in the face for three years and even after seeing the same faces for so long I cannot imagine what drove them to treat their fellow man like they did. 

It all started when my home country of Poland was invaded in the year nineteen thirty-nine by Adolf Hitler and his Nazi party.  After that there was a slow succession of anti-Jewish laws and more countries falling into the hands and anti-Semitism of the Nazi party. Many Jews tried to flee, but were carelessly forced to sail back to their country and await their fate.  I found no point in trying to run just to be thrown back to the dogs.  I awaited my slaughter patiently. It was in January of the year nineteen forty-three that I was told to report to the train station for deportation to the Warsaw Ghetto.  I stayed there several months before being taken on a train to Auschwitz I to be processed.  My number was A98246. 

My name is Lucian Aaronski, and I am a Jew in Auschwitz-Birkenau. Sitting on the floor of my barrack, I write this journal as a way to keep what's left of my sanity. There are nights when I just lay awake and silently weep; these are the only times I catch a faint glimpse of my previous humanity. The sun is breaking over the horizon and I can hear the guards getting closer to begin their day of torture and neglect. I must hide this, for if they see me writing, I will be sent to the bathhouse. The night was frigid and damp. With ten of us forced to sleep on one bed, we have no choice but to lay sideways on it.

The next day was excruciating. We were given bread and stale cheese for breakfast with black coffee. After our meal was finished we gathered outside to be sorted into work groups before beginning our duties.

 This is one of the least favorite parts of the day as we never know if they will randomly select us to be killed. Looking to my left I see the sign above the main gate, "Arbeit Macht Frei." I smiled at this and the irony with which it was carried out. We got freedom yes, but at the dearest cost. It was because of our "freedom," that I was the only one in my family left alive. My father, mother and eight year old sister all perished in their freedom. 
            My group was sent to work in Canada today, it is here that we go through and separate all the stolen belongings from our people so that the Nazis may use them. A gasp or a sniffle of a nose meant that a family belonging was found, the last remains of a perished loved one. For some this was the hardest job in the camp.  When you were put before the mounds of confiscated clothes, shoes, books, toys and gold fillings; you got a dark glimpse into the nature of our captors.  For me, however, it was the easiest.  I felt that due to my weakened state, it was much more suitable to sort belongings then to aid in the construction of another bathhouse.  After a few hours, we were rounded up for luncheon. We were fed a soup which consisted of hot water with carrots and rutabagas before being taken back to Canada to resume our work. 
            I spent the rest of the day sorting through belongings that I recognized at once as those of my late father. I didn't have enough energy in me to cry, so I silently prayed to God to save me, to save us from this pit of death and despair. It was at this time that I also began to question God.  What did we do to deserve such ill-treatment? Was God responsible for it?  All that mattered to me at that point was making it through the day alive.

I watched four prisoners die in the storage room that day. For this supposed crime, the Nazis rounded up forty prisoners from the camp at random; and after leading them to the fire wall, shot them dead and threw them into a deep pit. This was a common practice for the Nazis, and I believe a sport of sorts to them as well.  After this show of cruelty we were lined up and roll call was taken before we were escorted by armed guards to the mess hall.
            It was time for dinner, stale bread and jam was what we were given. After this we all stood in line for roll call. I say roll call, but really, it was just another way for the guards to torture us. We were forced to stand for hours in silence while the guards taunted us. That night was particularly harsh, thirty more people died from exhaustion and malnutrition. I dreamed of the day when the Allies would liberate us from this awful place. 
            I felt myself steadily growing weaker, but I knew that at the slightest hint of weakness, my life would be forfeited. I am determined to never die in this place, like an animal. Once the guards were finished with us, we were allowed a monitored ten seconds to make our toilets before being forced out of the way for the next person to step forward and do the same. After this ordeal was complete, we were finally escorted back to our barrack. It is a sad state of affairs that our wooden mattresses, bed bugs and rats were the only solace we had all day.  For many, this would be the last night they spent on earth.  The bedbugs would relish in our weakened state and begin to feed on our blood.  We had to sleep on any belongings that we were allowed to have with us, just to prevent them from being stolen.  In that place, all humanity was evaporated.  The animal was left to rule. 

The cycle continued the next day. Morning roll call was taken and we were told to make our beds.  After this was done, we were escorted out to the mess hall. Breakfast was sour milk and stale bread. Five people died during the night as we all slept, and I wondered how much longer my body and spirit would hold out before I too succumbed to the horrors and despair in this place. 
            Today I was sent back to Canada to continue sorting the confiscated goods. The only danger came when I stumbled over a loose shoe. The guard looked at me, waiting for me to collapse so he could shoot me on the spot. But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I got up and went back to my duties quietly. I refuse to let them take me; I refuse to give up hope of liberation.

There were talks amongst the soldiers that Allied planes had been seen flying over the tracks of the train that led to the camp, but that they flew right over it.  I didn’t want to believe this as I feel that no kind person could turn their heads to the unnecessary plight of a people. 
            Lunch time arrived as usual. After midday roll call we returned to our duties once again. Out in the distance I heard loud noises and something that sounded like gunfire. The guards must have noticed it too because only two out of ten remained with us while the others went to investigate the cause of the disturbance. The guards never returned, but outside the doors we heard yelling and screaming in German.  Guns were being loaded, guard towers manned; we overheard all this being spoken amongst guards.  Something tremendous was happening.  What it was exactly, we weren’t able to tell yet.  But we knew that whatever it was was getting closer and closer to the gates.
            The noise gradually increased, it sounded like a battle was taking place right outside the storage room! Looking outside I noticed the green sleeve of an Allied soldier. They had liberated the camp at last! It was talked about amongst the Nazis that the Russians had joined the side of the Allies and it proved true.  The soldier I seen was wearing a Russian uniform.  Finally our help had come. 

We stood against the wall opposite the door of the storage room waiting for things to dwindle.  After what seemed like hours, but what was in fact, about twenty-five minutes, the Russian army had defeated the Nazis at Auschwitz.  Our door was pushed open and Russian soldiers gingerly carried us to a truck to be taken to the hospital.  As I laid there alive with excitement, I began to smile broadly at the thought of being able to be a member of society again free at last! Thank God we are free!
            For the first time in three years, I tasted freedom.

Author's Note

CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM ONLY PLEASE :)