Читать книгу Lights in Darkness - Max Krakauer - Страница 9

The world was set ablaze, and the war touched all of mankind. One of the first war decrees announced in Germany was that of “Forced Labour for all Jews.” This did not mean performing labor in one’s area of specialty or former profession; rather, Jews were assigned to do the most demanding physical tasks, no matter whether one was a common worker, business man, or academician. Jews were usually given the task of excavating or demolishing something, of hauling garbage, and of doing similar jobs. Only when the war had wiped out one division of soldiers after another, and when workers in other industries had become virtually unavailable, were Jews recruited to help manufacture military goods. At this point the German Labour Front intervened, ruling that this work was too easy for Jews. In no uncertain terms it instructed all employers to use Jewish people for the most difficult and dirtiest jobs.

This labor was known as “working at the courtyards” (Hofarbeit). For ten, eleven and more hours per day we had to carry heavy objects around and lift garbage containers, no matter if one was physically fit to do this or not. A new administrative invention was to issue special food rations for Jews. This meant the sale of meat, fish, eggs, white bread, and all non-farming products was prohibited to Jews. Jews received no groceries other than five pounds of potatoes (if available at all), two pounds of turnips or red beets per person a week. Soon the Jews’ physical strength faded, and illnesses increased rapidly. Afraid of the Gestapo, workers tried to avoid sick calls, because everyone knew that the insurance companies had to file reports, as did the doctors who were associated with either one of these companies or with the state insurance company. One had to see a doctor after a sick leave of more than ten days.

Thus my wife and I were “forced into service,” i.e. we were divided into different groups by the labour office, the “Department for Jews,” that naturally was following special instructions. Then we were led away without an explanation. Only after we had reached our destination, we were informed where we had to work and what kind of work it was. Our salary was so small that it was impossible to make a living. By then, all Jewish possessions had been confiscated by a “Currency Office,” as the designated department of the Gestapo was known. Still, a few workers succeeded in setting aside a tiny amount of money for food, but when this happened they would receive no salary at all. Instead, it was credited to this Currency Office, but not before a 15% special tax had been deducted first. All Jews had to pay it, despite their intolerably low salaries and several standard deductions.

I had to do the kind of work I described until January 29, l943. For a whole year, my wife had to peel potatoes under the most dehumanizing conditions. For every 100 pounds she processed, two marks were paid. Her work place was a former butcher shop, where a little heat was generated by a tiny stove. As one knows, such shops are built without any heating system. The terribly cold winter of 1941 became an agony. So this place was heated whenever possible, with the result that those sitting next to the stove were roasting, while the others working in this large butcher shop were miserably cold. They had to clutch their peeling knives with stiff fingers that were discolored and had split-open. The smell of frozen potatoes thawing slowly worsened when the left-over peels were not picked up for days. In the summer months, one could barely stand the odor. The employer, a man named Otto Schade, and his woman friend – she owned the business – were the prototypes of all Germans who made a hefty profit at the expense of suffering Jews. Any request for a change in work place was out of the question because the employment agency’s response to such requests would be deportation.

After one year of this, my wife was relieved of this labor because there was a potatoe shortage. Unfortunately, her joy was short-lived. She was taken to a company that repaired film equipment for aircraft. Bleaches were used and similar acid chemicals that attacked both lungs and stomach and made most of the workers so sick that they could no longer keep their food down, as in my wife’s case. Fortunately, a Mr. Karl Berger, her boss, was just the opposite of those described before. He showed sympathy for the Jews who worked for him and who had been selected especially for this kind of work. Contrary to the precise orders he had received, he tried to get milk for the abused women as often as he could, and to reduce the exposure to poisonous gases. He also assisted his Jewish workers in various other ways, and in doing so, he violated existing regulations. More than once, he found himself in unpleasant situations with supervisory personnel. But he was one of those persons who were unconcerned about possible threats of punishment.

Undernourishment and hardships would have resulted in the death of a far greater number of Jews even before Auschwitz, had it not been for the compassionate individuals among certain merchants. In their own ingenious ways, they sabotaged the policy of starvation and the practice of cold-blooded destruction of human life prescribed by the party and the government. Despite great dangers to themselves and extreme acts of reprisals, these helpers supplied those Jews with food who were disallowed from having any. The greatest danger derived from the following situation. Beginning in September of 1941, the wearing of the “Star of David” had become mandatory. Subsequently every policeman, as well as every civilian, could easily identify Jews on the streets. “Open your bags,” they would shout at us at every possible moment. It had become a strict policy by the Gestapo to request Jews to open their shopping bags and briefcases. Woe to those outcasts who were caught hiding something to which they were not entitled. Before being arrested, these Jews were forced to say precisely from where their groceries had come, whereas a compassionate merchant had to prepare for the worst. It was also disastrous if during one of the frequently conducted house searches something illegal items were found, such as food. If the Gestapo uncovered the sum of several hundred marks, a Jew was accused of being a racketeer and was lucky receiving only a light punishment.

The strangest aspect of this anti-Jewish policy was – with the exception of the Nuremberg Laws – that the so-called “Decrees against Jews” were published nowhere. Instead, new decrees were only announced at the central office of the former Jewish community, and from there they had to be publicized by word of mouth. Radios had been confiscated long before. We could neither subscribe to a newspaper nor could we buy one at the newsstand. Jews learned of a new decree only indirectly and in a round-about way, even though the decree could affect one’s very existence. Still, ignorance was an insufficient excuse for violating even the most ridiculous law. For example, violation of a traffic law would result in one’s immediate arrest by the Gestapo. This in turn meant one’s prompt deportation.

“Deportation!” This ominous word was like a nightmare that gradually affected both body and mind. For what lay concealed behind this vague and schematic word, were extermination, gas, and death. It would go too far if I enumerated all of these decrees issued against Jews. But none of this could compare to the events that began in autumn of 1940, when trucks roared down the streets at night and when the mass deportations of Jews to concentration camps and Polish ghettos commenced.

The first victims affected by this roundup were those judged unfit for forced labour: the elderly, the sick, and the children. Once they had been deported, all Jewish workers were next in line because the Nazis had developed a necessary back-up plan. The newly created vacuum in the labor force would be filled by “foreign workers,” a new category of slaves. For this reason, on January 29, l943, my wife and I had been marked for arrest and deportation. My wife’s sister and several other Jews living in our apartment – each Jew was granted a mere 120 sq.ft. of living space – did not escape their fate. They were dragged from their homes in our neighbourhood on the very same night, as were other relatives and acquaintances. We never heard from them again.

This brings me to the phase of our experience within the Nazi regime that became the real reason for writing my book. The book’s purpose is to show how during these years a number of individuals, families, and institutions, rescued the two of us who were persecuted and hunted by the Gestapo. And this happened in Germany, a country that presented itself to the outside world in the cloak of murderers. These rescuers risked their own lives as well as the existence of their families, often regardless of personal privation and hardships. How infinitely difficult this had been; it was much more dangerous than is generally known, for what spread more abundantly in Germany than weeds in open fields were acts of denunciation. Never will we, or anyone else who witnessed the deep convictions of our rescuers, be able to thank them fully for having saved us from the fangs of Hitler’s henchmen. I know they wanted no gratitude and did not desire earthly rewards and gratitude; but rather, they were motivated by human love and Christian compassion. They wished to do something before God for reasons of conscience, hoping that this would diminish or make up for the bitter injustices committed against human beings whose only violation was to be of Jewish descent. They risked their freedom and their lives. They were the good Samaritans of the Third Reich.