The Dentist Of Auschwitz by Benjamin Jacobs Read Free Book Online Page A

“I was in dental training,” I answered him obligingly.
    “Report to me when we get to camp,” he ordered.
    I managed to reply a second time, “Jawohl,” and returned to the truck. My father had heard it all and saw that I was worried. Papa, always the optimist, urged me to forget all about it. “By the time we get there, he’ll have forgotten about you,” Papa said.
    We drove past a pious woman kneeling in front of a Black Madonna icon, with her kerchief pulled over her face. These statues were quite common along Polish roads. A while later we came to Turek, the county seat. More trucks like ours waited in the square. They carried Jews from Kodawa, Kutno, Golina, and Turek itself. Thirty minutes later the whole convoy pulled out in an northerly direction. “This means that we are going to Poznan,” Papa said. He had traveled here often, and he knew the roads well.
    Outside Turek the road widened, and the trucks began to clatter along at a faster pace. The sun arched overhead, bathing the fields and the people who toiled in them in warmth. Most of the peasants stood up and stared at the convoy of strangers being herded past. The two Waffen SS guards on our truck stood stone-faced and rarely spoke. After a three-hour journey, we turned onto a gravel road. The bouncing of the truck made resting against the sideboard uncomfortable. Big clouds of dust, loosened by the tires, enveloped our clothes and faces. Gravel banged against the fenders constantly.
    As the sun made its slow descent, the vehicles approached what seemed to be a typical two-story schoolhouse. Near it were three wooden barracks. All this was surrounded by a three-meter wire mesh fence topped with barbed wire strung on cane-shaped posts. Except for these structures, there was nothing but fields. This must be our new home, I thought.
    1 During the interwar period, Jews living in Poland, especially my generation, were attracted by the Zionist ideology, Herzel’s “Judenstaat,” the idea that one should not wait for the Creator to send a Messiah to return his people to the homeland but should advance that conviction by working for a homeland in Palestine.

Chapter VI
Steineck
    T he lead vehicle stopped at the entrance.
Several SS men with German shepherds at their sides stood, awaiting us. Dr. Neumann handed one a list of our names. They spoke briefly, and one SS man grabbed a bullhorn. “You have been brought to Steineck labor camp, where you’ll learn how to work.” Then he lowered his bullhorn and scanned our faces on the trucks, as if to say, “Are there any questions to be asked?” If there were any, who would have dared? He moved and paused at every truck, repeating his decree, making sure no one missed it.
    Then our guards lowered the tailgates and pushed the human cargo down with their rifle butts. “Down quickly, all down,” they shouted.
    We grabbed our bags and jumped off the trucks in panic. Two SS men at the gate funneled us inside like ranch cattle being readied for branding. Chaos erupted as the first group of men reached the gate. Two SS men standing on either side whipped us at random as we passed them. Given leash, the dogs picked up the cue and lurched at our arms and legs. Those of us who staggered were their special targets. I saw what was going on and froze. If Papa and I were to avoid being battered, I thought, we’d have to slip by as the men lifted their whips. With my suitcases in one hand and my box of instruments dangling from my shoulder, I held on to my father. I hung back and waited just long enough. When the whips rose, we dove past like sprinters. I escaped injury, but my father was not so lucky. He ended up with a laceration on his scalp.
    Once inside the camp, we ran up some stairs, through a pair of swinging doors, and down the corridor of the schoolhouse. On the right were windows overlooking the yard; the rooms were on the left. “All to Room 4,” yelled Chaim, the policeman who came with us.
    On three