Remember

They marched us through the main gate. I would later learn we were leaving Auschwitz II, or Birkenau, and going into Auschwitz I. There was enough light so that I could make out the words written above it in wrought iron. It read “Arbeit Macht Frei”, or “Work Makes You Free.” I thought it augured well. Once again, my mind grasped onto hope for fleeting moments. “Look, Uncle, it is a work camp, as you said.” He saw the inscription above the gate, too, but events on the platform had shorn him of optimism. A dozen or more SS guards, with whips and dogs, met us and immediately set upon us. The guards beat us and prodded the dogs to leap and snap at us. We were led to a large brick building illuminated by powerful floodlights. Inside, were guards and prisoners in striped uniforms arrayed at various long tables, each for a particular purpose. I held on to my uncle’s hand. At the first station we were told to undress and place our clothing on wire hangers then place them on one of the many hooks on the wall. Our shoes were to remain on the floor, which was quite cold. A terrible odor hit me. The second station was for cutting our hair – a task performed by inmates. Our heads were shaved, and to my alarm, all bodily hair was removed. This, we were told, was for hygienic reasons. My uncle and I moved down to the next where we were given tattoos. “Will it hurt,” I asked my uncle. “Perhaps a little. But you are a brave lad, Shuly. Besides, I will be right there with you.” My turn came. I had no time to think or try to comprehend. An inmate wiped my left wrist with a less than clean but alcohol-soaked rag then, with needle and inkwell, he inscribed a number on me. I was now a number in a vast system. One number among many. My number is B14534.