Novella
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Chapter 1 of 10
The
following story – or better: collection of autobiographic writings – was
written by my grandma, who passed away more than 15 years ago now. A little
while ago, I found the typed, slightly withered pages during packing up stuff
for moving places. I have to admit, that reading them, again and again aroused
me. I know, it’s really bad it did since they tell the dark story of people
cruelly tortured and killed by fascists – but they did. Since my grandma
departed many years ago, I decided to share these pages with you – you who may
share my tastes
_____________________________________________________________________
Call me Sarah.
As I’m writing these lines, I’m an old woman of almost 90 years of age – when I was writing the actual autobiographic story that make up most of this writing, I was a young woman living in Germany – or better: in the area that was called Deutsches Reich at that time. Most of what you will read as you proceed took place at a place that today is part of Poland (and was Polish before World War II) - the place I’m talking about is commonly referred to as Auschwitz. Auschwitz – a name that has become symbol for the darkest sides of humankind – a place where I spent almost 5 years of my life as a young woman.
Actually, Auschwitz was not like a single complex of buildings, but rather a collection of different camps scattered over an area of almost 500 acres of land. My little world during hose dark years consisted of what had used to be a cattle farm before the buildings were transformed into a small concentration camp with a special purpose. You will learn about this purpose later in the interview with a man I will call Hans Meister – the man whose mind’s child this small camp was.
I was born and raised in the north of Germany, in Hamburg. I lived the happy and protected life of the offspring of a long-established Jewish dynasty of bankers – until the day fate struck and my complete family got deported to Auschwitz. I will spare you the details of the actual raid by the SS, or eviction and the transport to the concentration camp.
The story of this writing starts at the point where we together with hundreds of other victims of the inhumane dictatorship arrived in Auschwitz in cattle trucks. It was there where I was separated from my family – a young girl who had just turned 18.
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