IN THIS TALE the survivor, Frantizek Zaremski, lived because of his tentative nature. Far from being a leader, he even refused to follow, and in the outcome it was this need to hold back that saved him.
I met Zaremski and heard his story from him in a dark room in a farmhouse at Rodogoszcz, near Lodz, Poland, a few days after his escape. I had just been shown the detritus of the factory where his ordeal had taken place; many pierced or charred bodies were still strewn about. Zaremski was obviously suffering from shock. As he talked he kept his left hand, which was bandaged, in his trouser pocket; he wore a blue windbreaker with a zippered fly. The skin of his face was drawn tight over the bones and cartilege, and the hair on his head, which had been shaved by the Nazis, was just beginning to grow back in. More than once, as he told his story, he covered his eyes with his free hand, and I thought he might faint.