Night by Elie Wiesel Read Free Book Online

burning flesh. It must have been around midnight. We had arrived. In Birkenau.

 
     
     
     
     
    THE BELOVED OBJECTS that we had carried with us from place to place were now left behind in the wagon and, with them, finally, our illusions.
    Every few yards, there stood an SS man, his machine gun trained on us. Hand in hand we followed the throng.
    An SS came toward us wielding a club. He commanded:
    “Men to the left! Women to the right!”
    Eight words spoken quietly, indifferently, without emotion. Eight simple, short words. Yet that was the moment when I left my mother. There was no time to think, and I already felt my fa- ther's hand press against mine: we were alone. In a fraction of a second I could see my mother, my sisters, move to the right. Tzipora was holding Mother's hand. I saw them walking farther and farther away; Mother was stroking my sister's blond hair, as if to protect her. And I walked on with my father, with the men. I didn't know that this was the moment in time and the place where I was leaving my mother and Tzipora forever. I kept walk- ing, my father holding my hand.
    Behind me, an old man fell to the ground. Nearby, an SS man replaced his revolver in its holster.
    My hand tightened its grip on my father. All I could think of was not to lose him. Not to remain alone.
    The SS officers gave the order.
    “Form ranks of fives!”
    There was a tumult. It was imperative to stay together.
    “Hey, kid, how old are you?”
    The man interrogating me was an inmate. I could not see his face, but his voice was weary and warm.
    “Fifteen.” “No. You're eighteen.”
    “But I'm not,” I said. “I'm fifteen.”
    “Fool. Listen to what I say.”
    Then he asked my father, who answered:
    “I'm fifty.”
    “No.” The man now sounded angry. “Not fifty. You're forty. Do you hear? Eighteen and forty.”
    He disappeared into the darkness. Another inmate appeared, unleashing a stream of invectives:
    “Sons of bitches, why have you come here? Tell me, why?”
    Someone dared to reply: “What do you think? That we came here of our own free will? That we asked to come here?”
    The other seemed ready to kill him:
    “Shut up, you moron, or I'll tear you to pieces! You should have hanged yourselves rather than come here. Didn't you know what was in store for you here in Auschwitz? You didn't know? In 1944?”
    True. We didn't know. Nobody had told us. He couldn't be- lieve his ears. His tone became even harsher:
    "Over there. Do you see the chimney over there? Do you see it? And the flames, do you see them?“ (Yes, we saw the flames.) ”Over there, that's where they will take you. Over there will be your grave. You still don't understand? You sons of bitches. Don't you understand anything? You will be burned! Burned to a cinder! Turned into ashes!“
    His anger changed into fury. We stood stunned, petrified. Could this be just a nightmare? An unimaginable nightmare?
    I heard whispers around me:
    ”We must do something. We can't let them kill us like that, like cattle in the slaughterhouse. We must revolt.“
    There were, among us, a few tough young men. They actually had knives and were urging us to attack the armed guards. One of them was muttering:
    ”Let the world learn about the existence of Auschwitz. Let everybody find out about it while they still have a chance to escape“
    But the older men begged their sons not to be foolish:
    ”We mustn't give up hope, even now as the sword hangs over our heads. So taught our sages…“
    The wind of revolt died down. We continued to walk until we came to a crossroads. Standing in the middle of it was, though I didn't know it then, Dr. Mengele, the notorious Dr. Mengele. He looked like the typical SS officer: a cruel, though not unintelli- gent, face, complete with monocle. He was holding a conductor's baton and was surrounded by officers. The baton was moving constantly, sometimes to the right, sometimes to the left.
    In no time, I stood before him.
    ”Your