This+is+power+pop

media type="custom" key="2128797"media type="custom" key="2128745"Chelsea 10-5-08: The foreign Jews got expelled from the synagogue and my friend Moshe the Beadle is a foreigner. They pilled everyone onto a train and they were sent to Galicia. Several months have past and everything is back to normal now, but I saw Moshe sitting on a bench. He told me stories of how they were taken to the forest and were forced to dig holes and when they were done forced to present their necks. They would throw babies into the air and use them as targets, I didn’t believe him. News traveled that the German soldiers were in Budapest and days later they were in our streets. They seemed to be nice people who cared about us. Some of us were in denial. During the week of Passover, Moshe the Beadle ran in and yelled that he had warned us and then left without a response from anyone. Days later the Germans came into our homes and announced that we were not allowed to have anything that is valuable like jewelry and gold. My father went and buried our valuables underneath the cellar. Then they made it so that every Jew was supposed to wear a yellow star media type="custom" key="2128809"to identify who we were. Then came the ghettos. We liked them; it was like we had our own little community. Days later, my father went to a meeting and told us that we were to be expelled from the ghettos. Each street left one by one, mine was the last to go. While we were on our way there, I started to hate the Hungarian police when they wanted us to go faster and I could not. They wanted strength and I could not provide it. Soon after, we arrived at my uncle’s house. Once we left, I were put into cars and taken away by the Germans. While in the car, all we heard about were stories of a giant fire. I didn’t believe them until I got to the camp and I could smell the flames and the smell of flesh burring. I was told that the men and women were to be separated from each other. That was the last time I saw my mother and sisters. The only thing good from this was that I was going to be with my father. As time went on I was no longer know as Elizer, my new name or calling was A-7713. I knew my mother and sisters were no longer alive but I still had hope that they were. I would imagine that they were still alive and hoping I was ok as well. My father told me stories of how my mother was alright and how Tzipora was a big girl now, somewhere in another camp. Later on we were sent to a new camp called Buna. It took us four hours of walking time to arrive to this giant Iron Gate that closed behind us.

Riley: Oct/5/2008

(General's Wife) I've been told we're like lions: we feast on the weak and sick, balancing out who deserves to survive and who doesn't. I can't help but think whether a human is comparable to a predator. I've seen humans arrive, in packs like sick animals, torn from each other thrown into an impending doom, never to be seen or heard from again. This one that I'm sitting by, Auschwitz: is no different than any of the others, from what I'm told. The children and the elderly die first. They weed them out, the small and weak versus the stable and healthy. It doesn't last long for anyone, there are no 'veterans', there are no survivors. The goal for these concentration camps is to kill every Jew possible. They are here to die. Once they arrive they are stripped of life, stripped of hope and faith, and forced into a grave that can last forever. Families are separated, women on one side, men on the other. There are tears, there is pain, but there is an immediate acceptance of what they've become. It surprises me at how fast these people realize that they are no longer living. They accept their fates, whether they want to or not, and are obedient to the guards. When I look out the window, all forms of life and humanity are gone. The guards...they force themselves to hate these people. They are trained to punish these Jews and to kill them without mercy. I can't tell who has the harder job, the soulless tortured ones or the men who are forcing it all upon them. I can't tell if I am suppose to enjoy these demises or if it is alright to pity them. But I don't know who any of these people are. To me, its as though I'm watching an animated cemetery. I am suppose to be silent, I do not have right opinions or sayings. It is up to the men. I am suppose to sit here and be quiet. To act as though this doesn't affect my life in any way. I have no children, so who am I to stress at the sight of burning corpses of little babies? Why should I care? However, the emotions are still on their faces. When a grown man cries, I see his soul in despair. Even though he has accepted the role as a silent vessel who does not act out of an order, he can still cry. But these strangers will be gone, they will be gone from sight, and gone from thought. If I don't listen, they don't scream. If I don't watch, they go away.

//Riley: I stole this from Ana Huber...it's so cool!!! German translation!!!

Mir ist gesagt worden, dass wir Löwen ähnlich sind: wir schmausen auf dem schwachen und krank, balancierend, wer verdient zu überleben, und wer nicht tut. Ich kann nicht helfen zu denken, ob ein Mensch mit einem Raubfisch vergleichbar ist. Ich habe Menschen gesehen, in Sätzen wie kranke Tiere, gerissen von einander geworfen in ein drohendes Schicksal ankommen, nie gesehen oder wieder gehört zu werden. Dieser, dass ich durch, Auschwitz sitze: ist nicht verschieden als einige der anderen, davon, was mir erzählt wird. Die Kinder und der Ältliche sterben zuerst. Sie sondern sie, das kleine und schwach gegen den Stall und gesund aus. Es dauert lange für niemanden, es gibt keine 'Veteran', es gibt keine Überlebenden. Die Absicht für diese Konzentrationslager ist, jemals möglichen Juden zu töten. Sie sollen hier sterben. Sobald sie ankommen, werden sie des Lebens beraubt, beraubten Hoffnung und Glaubens, und zwangen in ein Grab, das für immer dauern kann. Familien, werden Frauen auf einer Seite, Männer auf dem anderen getrennt. Es gibt Tränen, es gibt Schmerz, aber es gibt eine unmittelbare Annahme dessen, was sie geworden sind. Es überrascht mich daran, wie schnell diese Leute begreifen, dass sie nicht mehr leben. Sie akzeptieren ihre Schicksale, ob sie zu oder nicht wollen, und den Wächtern gehorsam sind. Wenn ich das Fenster suche, sind alle Formen des Lebens und der Menschheit weg. Die Wächter ... zwingen sie sich, diese Leute zu hassen. Sie werden erzogen, um diese Juden zu bestrafen und sie ohne Gnade zu töten. Ich kann nicht erzählen, wer den härteren Job, die seelenlosen gefolterten oder die Männer hat, die all das auf sie zwingen. Ich kann nicht erzählen, ob ich bin, nehmen an, diese Besitzübertragungen zu genießen, oder wenn es ganz richtig ist, sie zu bemitleiden. Aber ich weiß nicht, wer einige dieser Leute sind. Zu mir, sein, als ob ich einen belebten Friedhof beobachte. Ich bin nehmen an, still zu sein, ich habe richtige Meinungen oder Aussprüche nicht. Es ist bis zu den Männern. Ich bin nehmen an, hier zu sitzen und ruhig sein. Zu handeln, als ob das mein Leben in jedem Fall nicht betrifft. Ich habe keine Kinder, so wen soll ich beim Anblick brennender Leichname von kleinen Babys betonen? Warum sollte ich mich sorgen? Jedoch sind die Gefühle noch auf ihrem faGesichter. Wenn ein gewachsener Mann schreit, sehe ich seine Seele in der Verzweiflung. Wenn auch er die Rolle als ein stiller Behälter akzeptiert hat, wer aus einer Ordnung nicht handelt, kann er noch schreien. Aber dieser Fremde wird weg sein, sie werden vom Anblick weg, und vom Gedanken gegangen sein. Wenn ich nicht höre, schreien sie nicht. Wenn ich nicht zusehe, gehen sie weg.//

Dominic 10-05-08-German-Down to transylvania now. A little town called Sighet. Im not upset, not at all actually im just happy i dont have to go to the front. Sure, my job is boring but it's better than getting shot. i just have to watch and look threatening. We arrived in Sighet today. there is only a few soldiers with me the hungarians police will handle most of this work. over the next two weeks all of the jews were transported out. they are on their way to Auswitch. It's odd. i stand in the street with them before they are deported and listen to their conversations. while i can't understand much of it, they seem almost happy. do they not know what is happening? the next few days were boring. just a long train ride. occasionaly I would hear some woman screaming at night from one of the other cars. and such screams! they make my blood cold just to think of them. But i guess that was to be expected. maybe they finally realized where they were going. we got Auswitch and i got off happy to be able to stretch my legs. unfortunately i still have to follow this last group until they are recieved bby the guards. after about half n hour i am able to go to my assigned living space and retire for the night. the next few days were the building of a routine. boring but not complicated in the least. and again i remind myself this better than getting shot. i just walk around the camp with my rifle in my hands. after that i go meet up with some other soldiers and talk for a while before heading home. finally after a few weeks this last group(why am i always with the last group?) that I am with is leaving. Tomorrow maybe something more more exciting. lets pray. media type="custom" key="2128821" Oct. 6- Meghan (Father) We've been delayed for another day and we won't be taken to another ghetto until tomrrow. I fear for my wife, my only son and daughters. There is no one left to sneak water to us, so we stand there day in and dayout until it is time to go indoors. The gestapo and hungarian scare me to the core, despite the fact that i have encountered some that ar very friendly. Dawn is here and we're being forced into lines on the punishment of severe beatings. I can't hold my composure. I tried so hard to be a figure of respect and strength for my family, but i can feel everything crumbling under my foundation of hard work. I'm weeping, and i can't explain why. I tap into every hidden fountain of my strength, just so i can weep for my life. I feel selfish and dead on the outside, and numb on the inside. We reached the trains and I'm stuffed in there with my family like animals-no, worse than that. we're the dirt under their feet. I don't sit often because there isn't enough space, but i have a spot near the window and spend many hours looking out and trying to regain the level mindedness that i once posessed. I try to use the fact that my family needs me as fuel to be strong, but it doesn't help. I keep on steadily crumbling.. Although I didn't say anything to the others, i could see the fire just as clearly as Madame Schachter. There was a smell lodged in my throat of flesh and smoke. We arrived at Aushwitz today. My wife and daughters were taken away from me, and i no longer feel any connection to my son. I'm already dead. I folow the assembly lines and as my son is now 18, i am now 40 instead of 50. I've stooped to lying to save my pitiful existance. We're marching down the path....runnin runnin running..... we pass the crematorium and i see dreadful things that are to powerful within me to repeat. Were marching and running.... It's been an eternity.

10/07/08-Dominic-German-This last group has finally been assigned to a labor unit. finally. Now i can feel my real routine sinking in. The one that will surely consume me for months if not years. unless i was very unlucky and sent up to the front. Still, my job isn't hard. I wake up and eat then grab my gun and parade the laborers out and then escort them to where they work. After that i do my rounds. This is boring. I could never imagine actually wanting to be sent up to the front but maybe being shot at wouldn't be too bad. I mean at least i'm not here. Originally the executions that were happening by the hundreds daily made me feel uncomfortable and even sick. But i knew it was for the best and thought about these feelings as little as possible. after the first months I was immune to this treatment of people. Months of nothing are boring. Even if it is safe and you are getting paid for it. the only excitement that happens is when you are in fear for your life. We had an air raid. It was the only thing besides my early revulsion that got my blood pumping. You do the drills for this kind of thing but it actually happens and it is nothing like the drills. I hope this war will end soon. i would love to return to my home. Every day new faces ae around to constantly replace those of the old laborers who for various reasons are no longer around. media type="custom" key="2128849"media type="custom" key="2128853" Riley: Oct/7/08

(General's Wife) They're not all bad. In fact, they were all at some point living in normal homes and going to work just like anyone else would. But they've been branded into a horrible area of confinement, everyone looks down upon them. Today I saw a hanging, not my first, and certainly not my last. The victim dangled mercilessly as everyone looked on. All the people who go into an execution are a shell of their former selfs. They don't cry, they sometimes speak out towards God, but they are obviously ready to move on. When the American planes fly over us, shooting down, trying to cause rebellion, I'm rushed to safety. The germans protect themselves before the Jews obviously, for even if the bombers are trying to save these people, they might just end up killing as many. Interesting how when these alerts come, the Jews do not disband and create a greater chaos. They are so shy and awe struck at the events that happen that they're too scared to try anything. Not that every single one doesn't try something, there are those who haven't been broken yet and still wish for any form of salvation. A man died during an alert while trying to find another portion of soup. A bowl of soup! He was willing to die with a full stomach than live on starvation. I am just an observer from the outside, however, these sights disturb me. I think the more I watch, the more I find myself losing feeling towards reality. Surely I can never truly understand the numbing that these camps might to do someone, but watching a boy dangle and twitch while hanging by a noose, a person with any conscious must feel some sort of regret. Are we doing the right thing after all? media type="custom" key="2603031" Chelsea Gallegos, 10-07-08: As I entered the camp, it was dead. It was as if no one was there. The first thing we did when we got there was go into the showers, we went through inspection. During our inspection, there were three doctors. The first doctor barely examined me, all the asked was if I felt alright. Then the second doctor was a dentist. He asked me to open my mouth wide so he could look for rotten teeth and gold. I unfortunately had one gold tooth. My number was then added to a list of all the people who had gold teeth. The head of the block was a German Jew. His name is Alophonse. He always looks out for “his” block; he will make sure there is an extra cauldron of soup for the young ones, the week, and the people who just wanted more food. When I was walking, I got in Ideks’ way and he was not in a very good mood!media type="custom" key="2129717" I must have made him mad because he started to punch me and he threw me on the ground. I was covered in blood. He just kept hitting me over and over again. One of the French girls that I work with saw me and came to clean me up. She spoke to me in German; I was so surprised because I did not know that she spoke any German. When I was all better I was told that after I was done eating that I was supposed to go to the dentist. When I got there he wanted to pull out my gold tooth, but I desperately did not want him to rip it out. So I told him that I was not feeling very well and he believed me! He told me to come back when I felt better and that he better not have to call me in again. so I went back in to see him and I told him that I still did not feel well and I’m not sure if he just felt pity for me or if he really thought that I did not feel well but he did not pull it. He eventually got put in prison and my tooth never had to be pulled! I am really happy. I was walking by Ideks’ room and I saw that he had a girl in his room that was naked and I did not know what to do. Something came over me and I just started to laugh, at that moment the girl tried to cover herself and Idek saw me. I was punished by getting whipped in the back 25 times. I passed out during the process; I couldn’t even move my lips to speak. Some of the guards had to pick me up just so that Idek could talk to me. The electricity was turned off for a day, it would have really easy to sneak out, but I didn’t do it. There was only one man that tried to do it. He and another adult and a young boy with a sad-angel like face were hung. The adults died instantly but the little boy struggled for awhile, in between life and death. We watched as he was tortured. I passed out before he died. media type="custom" key="2603019" Oct. 8 Meghan

The days have meshed together since we got here. I no longer know if we've been here for a mere few hours or a few years. We've been transpoted again, and are under a decent man this time. He holds an interest in children, but is there no German that does not? They use us as their dogs, and when we are no longer useful wr are disposed of. simple We form fives every day and our soup is distributed ad\fter roll call. That's my favorite part of the day. I no longer keep track of my son, but somehow i know that he is always by my side. Elie explained to me what another young man, Juliek, told him: " we work in a warehouse for electrical equipment...." it oculd be worse.the twins we met, Franek and Pole are always with Elie; they have made strong bonds. Time goes on. The Germans occasionaly recruit us to play music at their balls that eminate exquisit smells and have excellent food whiele we starve. We're not alowed to play Betoven, because h was a German composure, but someehow we get my despite our crooked hands and backs. I can't march to save my life. I'm whipped and beat upon consantly because i fail t make my left foot hit the ground before my right. elie has devoted himself to teaching me. In exchange i give him advise about what t odo about his gold crown. I tell hm not to give it up, but i dn't know what he'll do. to be completely honest, i no longer care very much. Soup and bread come after roll call. I watched my son be whipped without pity. It would seem that he walked in on our Geman having sex with a Polish girl. Is this right? He should have been doing his wrk, and even if there was anything i could have done, would I? I no longer know. Maybe id some soup or a piece of bread was involved... Bombs! There are bombs falling from airplanes swoping above us.......but there are two pots of soup sitting down all alone and unguarded on the walk. I want...no i NEED to get to them....i need to..... As i contemplate, i see a crawling man making for the cauldrons. i never experienced the intense hate that i felt at seeming him dare crawl for the soup that belonged to me. I saw it before anyone! It was mine! I need it more than he does......I hate him. The man shootis in the air and falls back motionless with soup on his face. I missed what happened, but i am happy. Soup will be good tonight....media type="custom" key="2129711" The bombs do not harm the warehouse, but many other buildings have been decimated and reduced to nothing. I'm excited and hopefl for what can maybe be the end. A young man is being hung on the gallows today. He remnds me of my son. Elie is as strong on the inside as this young man is strong on the outside. He doesn't falter under anything, and nether does my Elie. The manis hung with liberty spouting form his lips.

Meghan 10-13-08 Father I watched solemnly as one of my emaciated brother pleaded with Blockaelteste. Selection was today, and his number had been written down on one of the SS soldier’s note pads. The bell rang, and everything disappeared. All I worried about was my son. It didn’t take many words to show our excitement that neither of our names had been written down. I tried to smile at him pride-fully despite my weariness, for I had witnessed his running that could put any Olympian to shame. Days elapsed. We were ordered to form fives, like every morning, but this morning was different. Ten numbers were read out loud and those men were told to stay behind. I head my number called. The parts of me that were still alive urged me to find my son and give him an inheritance- for all I could think of was the crematorium and my eminent death. His block was marching away, and I ran as fast as I could to catch up with them. I pleaded with him to take my knife and spoon and to let no one know he had them. Inheritance. Truth be told- the crematorium was not my fate. We were split up into two groups of five and then another selection was made. Luckily, it was not mine. Despite how people I had slept by were about to go become a part of the earth in the form of ashes- it didn’t bother me in the least. Happenings like these just all accumulated and ran down my back in one big downpour. With one ration of bread and one plate of soup, it’s all good. Winter has come, and with it slightly thicker cloths. They don’t help much, and the biting wind comes whipping down upon us more violently then the butts of SS soldiers guns could ever achieve. I no longer worry for Elies’ life, but I do worry about being separated from him.

10-15-08 Meghan Elie hurt his foot and he’s been in the hospital quarters for a few days now. I hope he gets out before the selections. I hear they’re a hundred times worse in there. I hope he makes it out well… time goes on… Two days after his operation, there are liberating rumors passing around about the Russians coming up to rescue us. In the very next breath, we’re also being evacuated. The Germans are getting worried, and although I can see it- I’m still slowly dying on the inside. This excitement dampens my spirits with each time I hear it whispered in the factories. What is happening to me? Preparations for the evacuation are being made. Everyone is scampering around the camp like it was a family reunion that we were hurrying off to. The only good thing about this situation is that they’re handing out double rations of bread and soup. I want to save it……but it’s getting harder just staring at it. Elie visited me today. His foot was bleeding heavily, and I wondered how he mustered the strength to some and see his father who is on the brink of letting him down. We decided to march to the next camp because chances were very good that the invalidsmedia type="custom" key="2129765" who couldn’t walk were all going to be killed. And so we prepared. And so we marched. It gave me some courage and strength having my only son with me despite his foot and pain. He must have been suffering more than I, but I refused to believe so. Canon fire and rifle shots cut through the night air- but that wasn’t enough to keep me awake. I could feel the rapid breathing of Elie next to me and fell asleep to the rhythm of his wide awake heart. The joy of youth! We were being evacuated one block at a time and about 6 thousand Jews were leaving every day. Our block was delayed- so we were given another night of sleep. I’d of rather had an extra ration of bread though…. And we’re off. The terrain is hard and relentless. The wind finds a way to burry into the deepest and shallowest parts of every man’s body and mind. The snow is falling. It falls and falls like the angelic tears of God’s messengers who despair for us. The gray sky is the emptiness of love and compassion we hold for Him; the hollowness of the once very solid Kadish. We begin to run. We become masters of nature, masters of the world. I know Elie is next to me, but it’s somewhere far away that I feel the warmth of his existence. My mind is blank and I run; I run for everything I didn’t do; I run for my wife and daughters; I run for love; I run for happiness; I run to write the values of life in the sky. My drive becomes faster; faster than light, faster than my beating heart that is no longer holding me back, but promoting me on, becoming a separate entity of its own. Remembering the ocean like a fire, intricate designs on the tips of butterfly wings…..flashes of vibrant color, my beautiful children, summery, grassy days, a comforting wind against my burning skin…..everything comes together in my oasis of concealment… Our commandant announces that we have covered forty-two miles since we left. A few more hours of marching went painfully by, and then the command to rest came. We all sank down in the snow as one man. I shook Elie to tell him not here, not here. I feared this place for it chased away the warm thoughts that encompassed me those relentless forty-two miles. If I had the strength, I would take my son in my arms like I did when he was a younger child and carry him to the ends of the world. No, I awakened him and pulled his scant body to a shed not to far off. It wasn’t easy getting in, but it was well worth it and I let him sleep there, lying him down as gently as I could. I watched his hallowed cheeks intently for what might have been hours or moments. A cold spirit was wriggling around in this room as the frosty breaths rising around us became fewer and fewer. I pulled Elie up though he protested. I supported him the best I could and took him outside the shed hoping that the biting wind would liven up the color in his face and he would suddenly turn into a happy child again and I would wake up from this terrible dream….. Rabbi Eliahou walked into the shrew shelter looking for his son. I couldn’t say that I had ever remembered seeing him. Their relationship was much like mine and Elies, but it would seem that our relationship was stronger. I would never be separated from my son, my precious only son….. In the morning we began marching again. I can’t say much about part two of our journey besides that my resolve was starting to badly crack and crumble into tiny flaky pieces. Some Kappos rapidly installed us into our new barracks. We were one on top of the other and I could no longer see Elie, but I could feel his presence next to me. Although I could barely breathe, I tried for him and drifted in and out of sleep. A beautiful melody pierced the air…a melody that was forbidden to us…a melody that I treasured in my heart as it relaxed my soul. It consoled me like a small child…media type="custom" key="2129735" A new selection was being mad; the weak to the left, and the strong to the right. I was sent to the left and my precious Elie to the right- but he would not stand for it. He tried to follow me and created confusion. It was a miracle that he wasn’t shot on the spot, but an even greater one that I was able to slip onto the left side of the SS soldiers with him. We were made to leave the camp and after a half hour of marching, we came to an open field with rails. We waited all day for the train cars to come. We were forbidden to sit and move at all. There was no water of food. It had been six days since my last ration, and what I had saved had been devoured ages ago. The cars cam and picked us up. There were a hundred bodies to a car. How small we all were! I drift and drift out of consciousness while stuck between bodies. I let the cold take me away and I have that dead feeling inside me thinking of my beloved family….. I feel a smacking on my face…but I think just another beating….just another beating….just another beating. It becomes harder and I respond to see that it’s my son beating down upon me……I don’t care anymore… Bread was occasionally thrown into our cars…but I had not the strength to grapple for it…I didn’t really care anymore… We had reached our destination- and out of the hundred that were on our cart, only a handful got off. We had arrived at Buchenwald. This is the end…I’m going to die here……I’ve broken and have nothing left….I’m shaken my tremors and lay sickly on a bed…..i have a large elapse in my memory and everything becomes more vague to me then it ever was. I haven’t had anything to eat or drink, but my dear Elie brings me both. For his father…for his father…for his father…for his father… I can hear my breathing that is labored and thick…but I don’t care….i shout out as if I was free…and it makes the churning in my head ease…..I shout and shout, yell, and scream, yell and scream. I’m being beaten…but that doesn’t bother me…….no…no it doesn’t…..I shout it hysterically to my son….my precious son like it is a joke….for it is my friends…it is…. Hahahahaha!! This red sky no longer holds me! No! No it doesn’t!!!! I whisper my Elliezer’s name over and over…over and over…over and over…..I want him….I no longer feel anything…………………I no longer fear……….Hello, my God.media type="custom" key="2128783"

Chelsea Gallegos 10-15-08: They are now separating the strong from the weak. I am worried that I will never see father again because he is aging really fast and getting weak. They took me to a different building where I dragged rocks and stones all day long. I ran past Dr. Mengele to prove to him that I am fast and healthy, I hope he can get the hint that I am strong enough to live. A couple days have gone by and they have taken father for a second inspection. Today I have to get a surgery on my right foot because there is puss in it. It has been two days since my surgery and I just heard gun shots, I think the Red Army is approaching. The SS officers have moved us to Central Germany, even though my foot is swollen and I can’t walk, I am trying my best. Father is walking with me so I don’t feel so alone. I just found out that the Russians freed everyone who was in the infirmary, I could have been let go, but I could not do that to father. As I was marching through the snow, many other prisoners were dying left and right. If they couldn’t keep up, they were killed. When we arrived to Gleiwitz, Kapos gave us our barracks. I heard Juliek playing his violin from Buna last night, but this morning, he was killed. It’s been two days and we still have had no food or water. I have begun to lose all hope in survival. Only my father, 10 other prisoners, and I lived on our way to Buchenwald. As father and I walked past the crematory chimneys he falls down. I was trying to help him up but I was forced to leave him and I was driven to the block. I did not want to eat and when I woke up the next morning, I went to go find father. When I did find him, he was begging on the street. Then I was forced to leave the barracks and when I got back, I found out that they were holding food from father; I ended up giving him my food. It’s been days now and father passes by me without even the slightest thought of who I am. I stay with him as much as I can, but the SS soldiers tell me that I should just forget him and I unfortunately agreed to. I woke up today and someone else was in father’s bed, I guess they took him to the crematory.media type="custom" key="2139833" I can’t help but to think that my father’s last words were “Elizer” and I just ignored him. Today is April 11th and the day that I will always remember. There has been talk that the camp officials want to blow up the buildings and kill over thousands of people. Little kids lay on the ground while buildings and people blow up all around them. So many people have died today and I am just thankful that I am not one of them. At 6 o’clock p.m. the American Tanks arrived at the camp. I got food poisoning and it’s already been two weeks of this serious illness, but I’m getting better. Once I was well enough, I got up to look in the mirror to see what I looked like. I have not seen what I look like since I lived in the ghetto. As I sat there staring back at the person in the mirror, I realized it was no longer a person but a corpse. That gaze will haunt me forever. media type="custom" key="2139809"

Dominic-soldier-10/19/-More of the same. walking around looking threatening. there is news of the front moving closer.This is very frightening but also very exciting. finally the endless monotony might break. How cold it is now with winter. I don't remember the last time i couldn't see my breath in the frozen air. It has happened. The front is only a few miles away. When the wind shifts right it carries the sound of gunshots to my ears. Tomorrow we evacuate. We are leaving camp now. No transports of any kind save for a few motor bikes for some of the guards. I am not that lucky. I have to run like the prisoners. As if this wasn't enough i have to pay close attention and make sure noone leaves or falls behind. We ran for several hours. my breathing came in ragged gasps after the first hour but somehow i prevailed. As soon as we got to where we would spend the night i collasped. I no longer cared if the snow might kill me. All i wanted was to sleep. Miraculously i was alive the next morning. and I ran more. We reached the trains today. we waited for several hours in the cold. Every minute to me brought fear that the front might suddenly spring up around us. The trains made it first. we spent the next several days on the trains. When we arrived in the next camp our prisoner population was severely diminished. I spent a few days just glad to be able to do patrols again without having to run. However when the front came close again the old fear returned. Again the order came to retreat. I gladly ran. I was outting all my hopes in that we would stop the russians before i got to the last camp. For the front was death for me. Today we were transported from our ghetto to another, smaller ghetto, far from our home, we were not patrolled or guarded we were free to raom as we pleased. I figured the germans had us on a ghetto chain, and every short time we would change ghettos until we would reach our destination. It probably didnot cost as much or anything like that but it was more efficent and even though it did not save more time it was more exausting. I was responsible for taking care or my family and friends and made suret they did not do anything dumb. I was anxious to hear of the coming news.

Riley: Oct-19-2008

We've been evacuated, and I am quite comfortable. Let me be more specific: The Jews have been evacuated because the war is coming to an end. Right now they're on a train heading towards Buchenwald, freezing to death in a box of corpses. In the beginning they came in masses, soon there will be but a minimal amount left to tell a survivor's story. I assume it will be the youngest and fittest. Children will perish and so will the elderly, there are the few in between who are going to be telling the stories to their grandchildren. I'm also in a train, but I'm well rested, I've eaten portions that these Jews have long forgotten of, and I am not even the slightest bit cold. I'm an outsider looking in on this situation. I suppose I'm more involved than the foreigners who are coming to put an end to this, but I surely don't have the slightest clue about what's really been going on. The German soldiers, my husband included, are doing as they've been instructed. I know that some of them thrive on the perishing of the Jews, and some of them are hollow on the inside, numb without feeling anymore. They're tales must be as drastically horrifying as their captors. The plan in action now is to kill the remaining Jews, to hide the evidence of what our people have done. The fact is that it will be ultimately impossible to forget and possibly forgive the crimes that have gone on here. I know that I will never forget, and when the time comes that I wake up in a world where Jews aren't slaughtered and dead outside my window, maybe then I'll be able to forgive. Innocent people have died, people who weren't even involved. Families are destroyed, with practically no survivors left. I've seen children hang from ropes for something they do not understand. Babies were mercilessly killed in front of weeping grown men. And during this time, I continued to live. The air I breathed never lacked in abundance, I never once thought of my impending death on the front, and I would sleep at night in comfort, knowing that tomorrow I would not be beaten for who I was. But I am just a pair of eyes. I did nothing wrong. I did not kill anyone, and I feel as though I too am less of a human knowing that I saw unforgettable crimes with no remorse or care. Its been a horrific nightmare that I've been unable to do anything about. The worse part is, is that I was not apart of it. I did not know any one of those people, and all their faces are blurs in my memories now. I know that when I wake up tomorrow, comfortable and warm, there will be more of them who have died. One more Jew will be missing from this world, withdrawn from sight, never to be spoken of or thought of again. Out of sight, out of mind, that's how it's worked for me. Am I no better than my husband and the soldiers? Having watched for so long and yet been immobile to do anything? Was it really out of my control? If I wasn't with the Germans I was with the Jews. Would my husband have to kill me for a sudden rebellion? The fact of the matter is, even if I did show ultimate sympathy, the Jews would find my death in vein. Maybe not even worth a second glance. They don't know me, and considering that I am not one of them it surely doesn't matter anyway. If I were to die for them, it would be thirty seconds of life that I shouldn't have wasted. I would be out of sight. I would be out of mind.