Once again, the train stopped.
Groaning, squealing, jostling.
I didn’t know
how many days
stops
deaths
there had been.
It had become routine.
I held Necha close,
leaned against the wall
so we didn’t fall.
Doors flew open.
I closed my eyes
against
bright sunshine.
Soldiers yelled,
Mach schnell! Mach schnell!
fell
were pushed
from the train.
Human cargo disgorged.
The SS waited
guns ready
dogs barking
on the Judenrampe
between the trains.
Hundreds of people.
Faces haunted
confused
frightened
defiant.
Clutching cardboard suitcases
leather satchels
canvas bags
each other.
Not just a stop
a final destination.
The name
Auschwitz
rippled through the chaos
but it meant nothing—
yet.
scanning the crowd
looking for Tata and Iser.
All around
women hunted for a husband,
father,
brother,
son.
Little children clung to coat hems.
Do you see them?
I asked.
Mama shook her head.
You try.
I lifted my chin
scanned
above the crowds.
No Tata.
No Iser.
Fences.
Everywhere fences
too high to climb
hummed with electricity.
Men in striped uniforms
gaunt and stooped
yellow stars
dumped from the train
onto handcarts.
Their eyes ringed dark
as if they’d looked
too often
into Death’s eyes.
Nearby chimneys
belched black smoke
into clear blue skies.
A sweet stench
turned my empty stomach.