635798

Her neighbors had been disappearing and now she thought she knew where they went.

She was running with a crowd of women along with a young girl by the name of Chaya. Both were biting their lips so they wouldn’t cry. Chaos was happening all around them. Everyone was screaming. Husbands were being separated from their wives, parents from their children. Sisters and brothers were losing each other along with aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews. People were being beaten and most of the time killed by the soldiers. It all started when she exited the cattle car.

January sixth, 1944 was three days before her twenty-third birthday. Her birthday present from the soldiers was being rounded up and put on a cattle car. She and her parents were locked inside with over a hundred other Jews. It was obvious they were all Jews because they all had a yellow Star of David on their jackets. Jude was written in black on each Star of David. None of them received any food or water. There were no bathrooms so all were forced to relieve themselves in their undergarments, causing the cattle car to have an excruciating odor of urine.

She remembered being frightened. She never liked the unknown. Being in the cold, dark cattle car with other frightened strangers made it seem that her nightmares were becoming reality.
It took three days for the train to stop. From the tiny window covered with barbed-wire, the Jews could see a giant factory. Barbed-wired gates wrapped around it for miles and near the opening was a sign. It had wording on it but no one could make out what it said.

When the door to the cattle car opened, soldiers immediately began to scream out orders. The Jews were forced to leave their small amount of luggage in the cattle car. She didn’t like this since her suitcase contained the family Menorah and jewelry her beloved Isaac gave her before he was murdered. Nevertheless she did as she was told. A soldier grabbed her by the sleeve and aggressively pulled her out of the cattle car.

The chaos began. Everyone was screaming and running around frantically. When she looked back to try to find her mother and father, she was startled by the amount of corpses in the cattle cars and on the ground. The amount was only rising. The soldiers shot anyone who didn’t do as they were told. She could recall screaming whenever a dead body plopped by her feet.

She could remember the feeling of her stomach dropping as her father called her name. She turned around just in time to see him being pulled into the night by a soldier. A cry erupted from her throat as she tried to chase after him. She kept going left even though women were ordered to go right. She screamed out “Papa” along with the frantic children running passed her. Unfortunately, she was stopped by a soldier. The soldier put the butt of his rifle on her chest and pushed violently. She landed with a hard thud, pain shooting up her back. Her life flashed before her eyes when the rifle was raised just above her head. She cried out as the soldier began to throw it down.

But for some reason he stopped. The soldier looked around for a split second as if his name had been called. Then he grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet. He thrust her toward the line of women that was forming and then was gone.

This line was where she met Chaya. At first she spent the time looking for her pregnant mother who was nowhere to be seen. In the midst of the chaos was a little girl crying out for her own mother. Soldiers screamed at the girl and without thinking she pulled her away before anything bad happened to her. A man in a tattered gray striped outfit came over and asked for the young girl’s age. Chaya replied with eight and the man told them to lie when they reached the soldier up front. They did and Chaya made it through. But she was asked by the soldier if she had a mental disorder. She did but she never realized it was obvious. She shook her head, remembering not to speak since the disorder affected her speech. The soldier let her through. While running to catch up to Chaya, she noticed that there was a group of elderly women, children, and pregnant women standing to the side. She caught sight of her mother but the women the soldier let through pushed her away before she could say anything.

Now she and Chaya were running with the other new arrivals. They ran under a sign that read ARBEIT MACHT FREI and then were led into a dark building. All of the women cowered together as the soldiers walked passed them. Nobody liked these soldiers. They wore gray uniforms with black knee-length boots. The shade of gray depended on the rank. Some had a medium gray uniform with black collars while others had uniforms that were almost black. Patches were on the lapels and each soldier had a leather belt around the waist and a leather strap that crossed the torso diagonally. On each left bicep was a red band. In the middle was a white circle and in the middle of that was a black swastika. The sign of evil.

“Everything off!” a soldier yelled. “Schnell!”

She couldn’t believe it. They all had to strip to nudity in front of the male soldiers. The soldiers killed the ones who refused. She came from a rather conservative family so she took her clothes off with caution. Women whimpered around her as they stripped to nothing as well. When finally naked, she had her arms crossed over her chest and Chaya quickly followed her example even though there was really nothing to hide.

She was suddenly forced to a stool. She gasped at the soldier’s tight grip on her wrist. He held her there as someone in the striped clothing grabbed her long, brunette locks and pulled. Another gasp escaped her lips. There was a snip and from the corner of her eye she watched her hair fall to the floor. Tears rolled down her cheeks as the scissors kept snipping. When what was left was just above her ears, the soldier forced her to bend forward. She bit her lip to stop any noise from escaping. There was a buzz and she could suddenly feel a razor rub against her head. The tiny strands of brunette hair tickled her skin as they fell to the floor.

When that was done, she was forced to sit up again. The soldier held her arm up and the razor began to cut under her armpit. The same was done to the other. She began to heave as the person in the striped clothing continued down her arms and legs. The soldier forced her to nearly lie against him. She choked out a cry as the razor went to work on her private parts. She never fought against it though. That could’ve caused more chaos than needed.
As she walked to another room with a hairless Chaya at her side, she watched people in the striped clothing put her hair in a bag.

In the other room the women were poorly showered and then were disinfected. All women were glad to be let out fast. It was a strange feeling to be pushed against other women who were not only strangers, but also naked. The soldiers pushed them into a room filled with the striped clothing. She was given a jacket and pants that were clearly made for a child while Chaya seemed to have what was an adult-sized striped dress. They traded. Hers was far too big but hopefully that made up for the amount of holes in it.

Once everyone had their itchy, hard outfits (which were soon announced to be their uniforms) on, they were guided to another room. Medical instruments and papers sat on the tables. People in the striped uniforms sat there too. A soldier guided women to different seats. She and Chaya sat next to each other.

Across from her sat an old man. He gently grabbed her left arm and expose the forearm. When his eyes met hers, he smiled.

“Hello.”

She stayed silent.

The old man picked up an instrument. “What is your name?”

To keep herself from speaking, she bit her bottom lip.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp object pinching into her skin. She whimpered and tried pulling her arm away. The old man held her tightly by the wrist.

“Shh, shh. It’ll be alright. I’m just putting your serial number on your arm,” the old man said. He pulled the object in his hand – a needle – away and with a rag, wiped what seemed like blood off her arm. The rag was put down shortly after and once again she felt the pain the needle had caused before.

“My what?” she asked.

The old man smiled. “So you can talk.”

She glanced at her arm. “Are. Are you tattooing s-something on. On my arm? But I’m J-Jewish! I c-c-can’t-”

“I know, I know.” The man put the needle down and wiped away more blood.

She looked at Chaya. The eight year old refused to look at the instrument.

“This is your number. To keep track of you at this camp,” the old man said. The needle was put down again. More blood was wiped away. She was glad to see the needle wasn’t picked up. “Remember this number.”

“Why?”

“Here, you’re known by your number. Here, you’re nothing but a number. I’m not longer Jakob Wasserman. I’m five-nine-one-two-eight. And you? You’re no longer whoever you used to be back at home. You are now six-three-five-seven-nine-eight.

She looked at her arm. Sure enough, “635798” was there. She rubbed the blue tattoo. It didn’t come off or even smear but she expected that.

“Now you must get going,” the old man said. “The other women are beginning to leave.”

As 635798 stood up, she felt Chaya’s hand slip into hers. The older man gently grabbed her wrist.

“Stay safe. Please. Keep yourself alive.”

Her eyes widened as her breath hitched.

“Mazeltov,” was all the old man said in return.

The women followed the soldiers to a barrack. It had what seemed to be wooden bunks. Rows and rows of wooden bunks. They went from left to right and back to front. Most of the bunks were occupied. At least three women shared one. No one had their own. Nobody seemed to have a blanket or pillow either. Just each other and their uncomfortable uniforms.

The new arrivals scrambled around to find an empty space. 635798 and Chaya found an empty bunk in the far right of the barrack and it was in the middle of the row. Their new bunk was at the bottom though. Two more sat on top of theirs. Chaya noticed a blonde girl looking around helplessly. The young girl invited the blonde over and the blonde gladly accepted the invitation. The blonde introduced herself as Shifre.

“Quiet! Attention Jews!” an Aufseherin, the female version of the soldiers, yelled. She stood at the front of the barrack in her floor length, gray uniform. A black cap sat atop her head and she had a red band around her bicep as well. She continued to yell, but 635798 wasn’t listening. She stared blankly ahead, dumbstruck by tonight’s events.

Chaya cuddled closer to 635798 when the Aufseherin left.

“Look what they put on my arm!” Chaya pulled her sleeve up. One her arm was 635799.

“My number is six-three-five-seven-five-two,” Shifre said, showing her arm.

“What’s yours?” Chaya asked 635798.

She showed them the 635798 that was on her arm.

Chaya turned to Shifre. “How come you’re alone?”

“My parents were taken somewhere else because they’re part of the Aryan race,” Shifre said.

“What’s that?” 635798 asked.

Shifre stared at her in disbelief.

“I don’t know what that is either,” Chaya said.

“Well, you’re a child. It’s expected. But you! Uh, uh… What’s your name?” Shifre asked.

Remembering what the old man told her, 635798 said nothing.

Shifre sighed and blinked her gray eyes. She never explained what it meant to be Aryan.

An hour later Shifre and the other women were asleep. 635798 and Chaya lied awake. It was incredibly difficult to fall asleep on the wooden bunk. It was also too cold. 635798 had Chaya wrapped in her arms as if she was her mother. Where were their mothers, anyway?

“Chaya. What. What happened to. To your mother?” 635798 asked.

“They took her away because she was pregnant. I tried following but with all the people it was difficult,” Chaya explained.

“M-Mine was preg. Pregnant too. I s-saw her with the. The others that. That didn’t come.”

“I think they said something about showers to my mama. Do showers really take that long though?” Chaya asked.

“What do you mean?”

“They never came back.”

The female shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they’re. They’re getting high. High treatment.”

Chaya began to look unsure.

635798 held her closer and then closed her own eyes. “Oh well. I hope they’re en. Enjoying the shower. I. I could really go f-for one my. Myself. The smell of this. This hellhole is repulsive.”