My emotions which had been numbed for so long now began to surge back. The slightest incident made me laugh hysterically or cry uncontrollably. We still lived in apprehension as to what was to happen to us, but not with the fear of imminent death.
We now had adequate food for our needs, consisting mainly of black bread and potatoes, with vegetables like onions, carrots and swedes. We added dried lentils to thicken the soups. We supplemented our diet with cheese and condensed milk and used oil, butter and flour for cooking, but we had no fresh meat. The steaming stews the Russians shared with us had given us a taste for it.
When a new contingent of the advance arrived we would stroll around, hoping for a helping which the Russians always gave us, but this particular morning we were unlucky. They were only moving through with horses carrying provisions for the front line. Olga and Mutti went back in to prepare food but I stayed out to watch their preparations.
One mare seemed to be deadly tired under her burden. She lay down on the ground snorting and no matter how the men tried to get her up, she refused to move. I watched the soldiers stand around considering what to do with her until one Russian took out his pistol and shot her through the head. They left her lying dead in the snow as they moved off. I knew it was only a horse but I was upset by the killing.
The following morning I took Olga out to show her the corpse. The stiff carcass was shrouded with newly fallen snow.
‘This will mean meat stew tonight and a good stock of meat!’ said Olga, being practical and not a bit squeamish.
She headed for the hut and returned with a large sharp kitchen knife. I had to keep a short distance away. I could barely watch as she bent over the corpse and cut into the soft part of the belly which looked as if it would have some good meat for stews.
Suddenly she straightened up.
‘Come and take a look, Eva!’ she called and, despite myself, I went over to see what she wanted to show me.
Instead of edible flesh, she had exposed a perfectly formed baby foal lying dead in its mother’s womb. I was so shocked that I took one look at it and ran away. I leaned against the back of the house crying bitterly for a long time because, like everything else in Birkenau, it was dead for no good reason. I knew it was irrational. I had seen so many people die and had stood by as helplessly as I had with the foal. But when Mutti came to find me I sobbed on her shoulder over that tiny being more than I had over anything else.
Later, however, when Olga served up a sizzling joint of horsemeat, I could not resist eating it with the others.
After that incident there seemed to be a lull in the fighting. No more Russians appeared and three or four days went by without the sounds of guns.
We still took turns to draw water through our hole in the little reservoir pond set about fifty metres from the house. Because we were much more relaxed now we would go out on our own and this morning it was Mutti’s turn. I watched her idly from the window as she tramped through the snow, armed with the bucket and axe. She hacked away until I saw her kneel down to draw up the water.
Just then, to my horror, two full lorry loads of German Wehrmacht screeched to a halt at the gate of the camp. Then the first lorry went on to career straight through the camp towards the hospital block. The other lorry drove towards where Mutti was standing, frozen with shock. A soldier jumped down pointing his gun at her and ordered her to get in the back. By this time the three of us were crouching down out of sight and we could hear German voices shouting across the wasteland to the sick hospital inmates.
‘Everybody out! All out! Get ready to march!’
I watched from behind the window as the terrible transport crept out of the camp with one lorry at the front and one at the back. Several soldiers walked alongside with guns pointed at the line of shuffling women. I spotted Mutti in her blue dress glancing towards the window, her face etched in terror. The line of human wretchedness slowly passed by and we heard the droning of the lorries in low gear as they moved away into the distance until there was silence.
We had no idea whether the Germans had left any soldiers behind to set fire to the buildings to destroy evidence of the camps, but I was frantic. I could hardly believe that Mutti was going to be killed now after all we had gone through. I crouched, stunned, my fist stuffed inside my mouth trying to stifle hysterical screams.
‘Try to be brave, Eva,’ Olga said crawling towards me. ‘God will take care of her.’ She tried to put her arms round me but I pushed her away in panic.
‘Keep quiet,’ Yvette hissed. ‘You’ll give us all away!’
We stayed hiding on the floor for what seemed like hours. I sat hunched in a corner in deep despair, not knowing what to do. Occasionally we heard the crack of shots echoing over the still snow but apart from that everything was quiet. By the time dusk had come snow was again falling heavily. We assumed by now that no German soldiers had stayed behind.
Suddenly a loud knock at the door made us jump out of our skins. And then, amazingly, miraculously, we heard Mutti’s voice calling ‘Evertje – it’s me, I’m here!’
I threw open the door and we fell into each other’s arms. Tears of relief flooded down my face. My darling Mutti was safely back.
Later, while we sat around the stove drinking hot soup, she told us what had happened. Soon after passing through the gates of the camp so many women had collapsed that the Germans either shot them or left them to die. Mutti knew that she had to feign death. She began to drag herself more slowly through the thick snow and then collapsed to the ground, trusting to God that they wouldn’t bother to waste a bullet on her. She lay there motionless as the others shambled past her. She could feel the ground tremble as the lorry wheels rolled by less than a metre away. She remained like that until she was sure it was safe to move and then made her way back to our hut in the dark.
We slept together in the same bunk that night, clasped in each other’s arms once more.
The following morning when it was light we walked together up the main road outside the camp to see if anyone was still alive. All was deadly silent. As far as our eyes could see the road was strewn with the frozen bodies. Many were lying in pools of blood that stained the snow. More than a hundred women had perished in the night.