Free Born Survivors by Wendy Holden Page A

as the director of the city’s largest orphanage, he could help save the Jews of his city by trading ontheir ‘currency’ as skilled workers. Declaring the motto ‘ Unser Einziger Weg Ist – Arbeit! ’ (Our only path is – work!), he insisted that if the ghetto remained highly productive then the Nazis wouldn’t be able to afford to dispose of its valuable workforce. It was an achievement that some believed ensured their survival two years after the Warsaw ghetto and others had been destroyed.
    But he also created a clear class structure within the ghetto, and many of the ruling elite associated with the man known as ‘The Eldest’ did well under the arrangement. These men and women who helped deceive, starve and exploit their fellow Jews lived in comfortable apartments, drinking vodka, and eating food destined for others. Some even had separate dachas or summer houses in the former allotment district of Marysin. They employed teachers of music and Hebrew for their children, enjoyed luxuries such as hot water and soap, shipped in goods from outside and even attended concerts and balls while the rest of the population sat in their hovels scratching at their scabs. In the winter, when only the soup kitchens and bakeries were allowed fuel for their fires, the elite had plenty while the rest of the population scraped out the dust from coal wagons or dismantled derelict buildings for their rafters.
    Rachel and eight members of her remaining family, who shared one large room in a better-appointed apartment in an area renamed Pfeffergasse in the centre of the ghetto, were better off than many. Even so, they slept side by side on mattresses laid on the floor, both in order to keep warm and because of the lack of space. Rachel’s brother Berek, who was immediately put to hard labour thanks to his youth and strength, was billeted elsewhere. The family received their ration of bread each week from a local grocery store and sent their youngest boy Heniek to queue for it in the hope that the shopkeeper might take pity on him and give him a slighter larger loaf. When Heniek eventually brought the precious bread home, Fajga carefully sliced it into nine segments, always giving the largest piece to their father as he was ‘the king of the house’.
    Each night when the older members of the family returnedhome from work, Fajga would serve them soup cooked from whatever scraps she could find. Sometimes they’d be allowed potatoes, although most that arrived in the winter were frozen solid and so black with rot when thawed that they had to be buried for fear of poisoning people. On other occasions, they might get turnips. Among the rations they were allowed was imitation coffee powder, which Fajga mixed with a little water to make soft patties to help fill her children up. The smell of coffee would ever after remind Rachel and her sisters of those innovative little patties.
    ‘Hungry as we were we tried not to lose our happiness,’ said Sala. ‘We still thought that the day was near when everything would change.’

    Slave labour in the Łódź ghetto
    A surprisingly practical man with an inventive mind, Shaiah Abramczyk toiled all day in a workshop and then used his skills at home. He sectioned off one end of their room with a partition for privacy, mended his children’s worn-out shoes, made shelves, andsomehow connected them to an electrical supply to bring them light and power for a sewing machine. This was especially useful for Sala, a talented needlewoman who made clothes and hats for Germans. Once she’d finished her shift in a dimly lit factory she would walk home footsore, her eyes gritty from the strain, eat her soup, and set to making garments out of old fabric. She then exchanged them with a family from the ruling elite for a little extra food.
    ‘My work … was to make elegant clothes for ladies, which were sent back to Germany,’ Sala said. ‘Sometimes I modelled them and German people came in and watched me.