Sleep
Viktor FranklThe first night in Auschwitz we slept in beds which were constructed in tiers. One each tier slept nine men, directly on the boards. Two blankets were shared by each nine men. We could, of course, lie only on our sides, crowded and huddled against each other, which had some advantages because of the bitter cold. Though it was forbidden to take shoes up to the bunks, some people used them secretly as pillows in spite of the fact that they were caked with mud. Despite this, sleep came and brought relief from pain for a few hours. I shall never forget how I was roused one night by the groans of a fellow prisoner, who threw himself about in his sleep, obviously having a horrible nightmare. Since I had always been especially sorry for people who suffered from fearful dreams, I wanted to wake the poor man. Suddenly, I drew back my hand which was ready to shake him, frightened at the thing I was about to do. At that moment I became intensely aware of the fact that no dream, no matter how horrible, could be as bad as the reality of the camp which surrounded us. |
The most ghastly moment of the twenty-four hours of camp life was the awakening, when, at a still hour (4:00am), the three shrill blows of a whistle tore us ruthlessly from our exhausted sleep and from the longings in our dreams. We then began the tussle with our wet shoes, into which we could barely force our feet, which were sore and swollen. There were the usual moans and groans about petty troubles, such as the snapping of wires which replaced shoelaces. One morning I heard someone, whom I knew to be brave and dignified, cry like a child because he finally had to go to the snowy marching grounds in his bare feet, as his shoes were too shrunken for him to wear. Let me tell what happened on those early mornings when we had to march to our work site. There were shouted commands: “Detachment, forward march! Left 2-3-4! Left 2-3-4! Left 2-3-4! First man about, left and left and left and left! Caps off!” These words sound in my ears even now. At the order “Caps off!” we passed the gate of the camp, and searchlights were trained upon us. Whoever did not march smartly got a kick. And worse off was the man who, because of the cold, had pulled his cap back over his ears before permission was given. We stumbled on in the darkness, over big stones and through large puddles, along the one road leading from the camp. |