Toward the end of 1944 Russian planes used to fly over Auschwitz more frequently, and the wailing of the air-raid sirens could be heard not only at night but also during the day. I remember especially one alarm that sounded at noon time. A young SS man came to hide in our infirmary, a little embarrassed by the fact that he was seeking safety among us, “because,” as he explained it, “the Russians won’t drop any bombs on you.” He was frightened to death, but we had to hide the joy we felt to hear the Russians bombing. That day a few women who had been working outside the camp perished during the attack. In the evening the returning komando brought their corpses with them.
In October that year the women’s camp was moved to the former gypsy camp. The infirmary was located in a large barrack, with a large comfortable furnished room in the back for us. Instead of Magda there was now a young Russian girl who did the cleaning. She was bright and happy. The German doctors did not bother much with us. We felt the taste of freedom, and maybe the taste of death.
Marusia, Mancy, Rwieta, and Helena received packages from the free side, so we did not lack for food. Sometimes our friends came to visit us. They brought us linen, bandages, and sometimes they would sit with us for a few hours in our room. The SS men who came with them did not bother us. We started to see the future in rosy colors.
One afternoon toward the end of November 1944, after checking the sick into the hospital, we were sitting around in our room eating lunch. Completely unexpectedly, Mengele came to the infirmary. We became very frightened when we saw him, since he was an ill wind that never blew any good and since we were totally unprepared for his visit.
“Women from the new transport will be brought here very soon. Receive all of them into the area, and keep them waiting in the infirmary until I get here to take a look at them. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Orli appeared soon after that, with about seventy old women trailing behind her. They had arrived with a transport from Slovakia and had been taken out of a Jewish old-age home. In my entire life I had never seen such old people. When we started registering them it turned out that the youngest of them was sixty-eight years old. They all wore wide, black, ankle-length skirts. In the past they would have gone straight from the wagons to the crematorium. But today Mengele told us to receive them on the hospital block. We looked at each other in disbelief. Something strange was going on around us, but we did not know what.
Some women were so old they could not sit. They lay on stretchers, waiting for the arrival of Mengele. Orli was as surprised as we were. She also did not know the reason for the change.
“See how the wolf has changed into a lamb,” she said.
I must admit to some ugly thoughts that I remember buzzing through my head: “Such beautiful, young, healthy women had been sent to the gas chambers, and these women who are barely living, wrinkled, wilted, and old, will avoid death.” How could I think that way, as if I had something against those old people to whom life had been granted as a present?
We finished registering the newcomers. When Mengele came in, Orli shouted, “Achtung!” But he just made a wave with his hand. He was looking at the registration card of one of the old women who was sitting in a corner when she yelled out, “God bless you for your goodness, that you take such pains to protect us old people.”
Mengele shuddered and quickly looked in our direction. We lowered our heads so that he could not read anything in our eyes.
“Why are you blessing me before you know me?” he asked in a rage.
The old lady took fright from the tone of his voice; luckily she knew enough to keep quiet.
A number of stretchers were near the door of the infirmary, and in them were lying a few old people who had fallen very ill after the trip.
“Give them an injection of phenol,” Mengele said to Orli. “Why should they suffer?” Smiling, he looked at Orli and waited for an answer.
“I don’t know how to give such injections. That is your specialty,” she answered instantly.
“Orli, I’m going to give you some good advice. Forget what you’ve seen here.”
“Niemals [never],” Orli answered, without thinking.