Free Kanada by Eva Wiseman Page B

became more alarmed. Sweat poured from her brow. Her baton played feverishly on our shoulders.
    We stood, hour after hour, prey to fear, absorbed in grief. Some women collapsed. Others were held up by their neighbors. My whole being was focused on staying on my feet. I couldn't even grieve for Mama and Grandmama, walking straight to their deaths. I concentrated all of my energy upon my own survival. Nothing else mattered.
    There was a sudden shout from the block. “We found her!” Then gunfire.
    We were dismissed.
    “This can't be happening. It must be a nightmare!” Agi's voice was no more than a whisper. “We'll wake up tomorrow and it'll all be over.”

Wednesday, July 5, 1944 –
Wednesday, July 12, 1944
    T he nightmare did not end. We lined up again. This time it was for a breakfast of black coffee. We drank it squat-ting on the ground.
    Agi made a face. “It's so bitter. It must have been brewed from weeds.” But, like me, she drained her bowl. The tepid liquid soothed the hunger cramping my stomach.
    The Kapo appeared. She separated the women in the block into groups of one hundred. I breathed a sigh of relief that Agi and Eva were with me. We were marched to the west end of the Lager. A huge pile of white bricks was piled beside the electric fence. The Kapo ordered us to move the bricks, two at a time, to the east end of the Lager, three or four hundred meters away. At first, I was quick and efficient, but as the summer sun rose in the sky, I became hot andthirsty. Sweat ran down my face and back. The bricks seemed to weigh more with each trip. My steps slowed until I was dragging myself across the void. I passed Agi and Eva. They were pale and moved heavily.
    “I can't go on! I have to sit down,” said Agi.
    “If you sit, they'll shoot you!” cried Eva.
    We toiled on. The summer sun was reaching its summit. I couldn't bear it any longer.
    “I'll ask the Kapo's permission to get a drink,” I told Eva.
    “You can't! The water is infected. It'll make you sick,” she said. “Courage. It's almost noon. We'll get soup. It'll quench your thirst.”
    The soup was lukewarm and watery and gave off a rancid odor, but it tasted better in my mouth than anything I had ever drunk before. After I drained my bowl, I was able to start working again.
    The day seemed endless. The bricks in my arms became heavier and heavier, until I feared that their tremendous weight would make me sink into the ground and disappear. Silently, we trudged back and forth, back and forth, like clumsy beasts of burden, stumbling, dragging our feet. Mercifully, the sun went behind a gray cloud. I had a fanciful thought that it was hiding its shamed face. Hours later, the mountain of stone that had stood in the west end of the Lager stood in the east end.
    Three hours of Appell, “lining up to be counted,” followed, and I learned that I was stronger than I had thought possible. Sheer will power kept me on my feet. Then camedinner – a small piece of black bread and a tiny square of margarine. The bread tasted like sawdust. I was careful to bend down and pick up each and every crumb that dropped to the ground.
    Finally, it was bedtime. One of the inmates showed me how to pick lice off my clothes and body. Agi and I examined each other carefully. No revolting critters were feasting on us.
    “Nothing!” I crowed in relief.
    “You mean ‘not yet!’ Give yourselves a few days. It can't be avoided. We are all infested.” A cadaverous woman clomped over in wooden clogs like the ones Agi was wearing. She held out her hand. “Sari Lusztig,” she said, “from Szombathely. Eva and I came on the same transport.”
    “I am Jutka Weltner from Papa. We arrived two days ago.”
    “Ah! Newcomers to our resort! Enjoying yourselves?” she said. “You can't believe what you're seeing, can you? You tell yourselves that you're dreaming, don't you? Well, you're not! You are very much awake. The longer you're here, the more you will realize that this