Chapter 5 Chapter 3 The Scream in the Car

The space is so small that it is very difficult to lie down, let alone sit down, so everyone had to take turns to sit.The air in the car was stagnant.The lucky few leaning against the car window are the only ones who can see the fields of flowers flying past behind the car. After marching for two days, people were unbearably thirsty and unbearably hot. Some young people can't stand it anymore, they have ignored the daily taboos, caressed each other under the cover of darkness, completely ignored what others think, as if they were the only ones left in the world, and others had to pretend not to see.

Although there was some food left over, we were never full and our principle was to save for tomorrow when it might be worse. The train stopped at Kasa, a small border town in Czechoslovakia.Only then did we know that we had already left Hungary, and we couldn't help opening our eyes, but it was too late. The carriage door was pushed open.A German officer stepped in, followed by a Hungarian lieutenant, who was the interpreter. "From now on, you are under the jurisdiction of the German army. Whoever still has gold, silver and watches, hand them over immediately. As soon as we find anyone carrying these items privately, they will be shot on the spot; second, if anyone is sick, report to the medical vehicle immediately .It's over."

The Hungarian officer walked around the crowd with a basket in his hand, and some of them handed over the last bit of private property out of fear of bad luck. "There are eighty people in the carriage," the German officer added. "If even one escapes, you'll all be shot like dogs." Two people left. With a bang, the door was shut tightly.We were nooses, fastened around our necks.With the doors nailed down and no way out, this locked cattle car is our world. There was a woman among us, Mrs. Shasht, in her fifties with a ten-year-old son, curled up in a corner.By accident, her husband and two eldest sons left with the first group of people.She was in pain because of the separation of her flesh and blood.

I knew her well, she was quiet but nervous and sharp-eyed.She was a frequent visitor to our house, and her husband, a pious man, spent most of his time, day and night, in the study.She is the backbone of their family. Mrs. Shasht was delirious, and on the first day on the road she began moaning and asking why she was being separated from her family.Later, she sobbed, yelled, and hysterical. On the third night, we all fell asleep, some sitting and cuddling each other, some standing.A sudden shrill cry broke the silence. "Fire! I see fire! I see fire!" There was a commotion among the people.Who is shouting?It's Mrs. Shashter!Standing in the middle of the carriage, under the dim light outside the window, she looked like a battered tree in a wheat field.She pointed out the car window and howled:

"Look! It's on fire! Terrible fire! Have pity on me!" Someone was leaning against the crossbar of the window and looking out.It was pitch black outside, and nothing could be seen. It was a long time before we recovered from our brutal awakening.Every turn of the wheel made us tremble, like an abyss opening beneath our feet, opening its mouth wide open.We can't iron out the grief in our hearts, we can only comfort each other: "She's crazy, poor woman..." Someone put a wet cloth on her forehead, but she continued to yell: "Fire! I see fire!" Her little son was crying, tugging at her skirt, trying to grab her hand: "Nothing, Mom! Nothing... Please sit down..." He caused me more pain than her mother's cry The sound also pains me.

Some women want her to be quiet: "You'll see, you'll find your husband and son...in a few days..." She went on shouting and sobbing: "Jew, listen to me," she cried, "I see fire! I see fire, steaming fire!" She was possessed, it was as if an evil ghost had entered her body. We tried our best to persuade her, not only to comfort her, but also to comfort myself, to let myself take a breath: "She had hallucinations, because she was too thirsty, poor woman...that's why she said that the fire was devouring her..." But it was all in vain, and we could no longer suppress the fear in our hearts.Our nerves nearly collapsed, and our skin tightened in fits and starts.Madness seems to infect everyone!We gave up.Several young men forced her to sit down, tied her up and gagged her.

The carriage fell silent.The little boy sat beside his mother and wept.The train continued to move in the night, and the wheels rubbed against the rails, making a rhythmic clang. Listening to the sound of the wheels, I could breathe normally again, nap, rest, and dream again. An hour or two passed like this.Another hiss was terrifying, and the woman broke free from the rope, shouting even louder: "Look, fire! Look, fire! Fire everywhere..." Several young men tied her up again, gagged her and beat her.Shouts of approval: "Shut her up! Shut up that madman! She's not alone here..."

She received several fatal blows to the head.Her son held her tightly, without saying a word, and he stopped crying. That night seemed endless.Mrs. Shasht was not quiet until dawn.She curled up in a corner, her eyes glazed over, blindly staring into the distance, and no longer looking at us. For the whole day, she was silent and in a daze. Although there were people around her, she was alone.At night, she started yelling again: "Fire! There!" She points to the distance, always to the same place.Nobody wants to hit her anymore.The heat, the thirst, the stench, the stagnant, suffocating air were nothing compared to her screaming.A few more days and maybe everyone will be screaming like her.

At last the train pulled into the station, and the person by the window read the name of the station: "Auschwitz." No one has ever heard of this name. The train stopped.The afternoon passed slowly.Later, the car door opened and the guard allowed the two men to fetch water. When they came back they told everyone they had exchanged a gold watch for a message that here was the destination and we were going to get off.There is a labor camp here, the conditions are good, the family will not be forcibly separated, but the young people get to work in the factory, and the old and sick people go to work in the fields.

Confidence increased, and we were suddenly free, free from the terror of last night.Thank God! Mrs. Shasht remained huddled in a corner, silent, unmoved by the optimism surrounding her.The younger son rubbed her hands. At dusk, the compartment darkened, and we ate up what was left of our food.At ten o'clock in the evening, everyone wants to squeeze a place to take a nap.We quickly dozed off.Sudden: "Look, fire! Look, it's on fire! Over there!" We suddenly woke up and rushed to the window again.Suddenly, we believed her.However, it was pitch black outside and there was nothing.We were back in our respective places, ashamed and terrified.She howled again, and was beaten for it, and it was with great difficulty that she was silenced.

A German officer was patrolling the platform, and the person in charge of our carriage called to him and asked him to transfer the female patient to the medical carriage. "Patience," replied the German, "be patient! She will be gone in no time." At about eleven o'clock the train started again.We huddled together by the window, and the train moved slowly, and after about a quarter of an hour, even slower.Outside the car window, we see barbed wire fences.We understand that this is a concentration camp. We forgot that Mrs. Shasht existed.But suddenly there came a terrible cry: "There, look! Look at the fire! Look at the flame!" The train stopped.This time, we see a tall chimney with flames rising into the night sky. Mrs. Shasht fell silent, she was silent, absent-minded, indifferent, she retired to her corner. We stared at the flames in the darkness, a foul stench filling the air.The door of the car opened suddenly, and several strange-looking people in striped coats and black trousers jumped into the car. They held flashlights and sticks, and yelled while beating wildly: "Get out! Leave your stuff behind! Hurry up!" We jumped out.I glanced at Mrs. Shasht, whose young son was still holding her hand. The flames were right in front of us, and the air was filled with the smell of burning flesh.It must be midnight now.Here we are, to Birkenau.