A Doomed Romance by Jason Brown

29 April 2023 { Creative Non-fiction }

A Doomed Romance

By Barrie McDonald

Abraham (Abe) Guttenberg sat on the low wall outside the academy clutching his diploma. Dressed in cap and gown, the recently qualified doctor thought how proud Mama I Tata would have been if they could have been here to see him. He missed them, of course, but through his years of study he had not had a normal life, and being a reserved individual, had not made many friends. The warm June sun and light breeze caressed his face. Life is good. The only cloud on the horizon was the rhetoric coming from Adolf Hitler's Nazi Party. Talk of invasion, dominance, and worst of all, Anti-Semitism. Knowing tanks would soon invade Poland, he immersed himself in work. The invasion was rapid. Poland capitulated. The German authorities required all Jews to wear a yellow star on their clothes for identification, and to move into guarded ghettos. Here, the SS mistreated them.

So, a new chapter in their lives began, and despite the hardship, everyone pulled together to help each other. Alongside the SS were a handful of Jewish helpers referred to as kapos.

They came in the early hours of the morning, hordes of shouting SS men, followed by their "helpers."

'Raus, Juden, Raus! They screamed, banging on doors, and breaking down those that refused to open at once. 'Out, Out, on to the street.'

Cries of both adults and children echoed around. Fear gripped the moment. They gathered Jews in the street, except those still hiding.

An officer strutting like a bantam cock enjoyed himself by proclaiming the reason for their early morning call. He walked along the line, barking out instructions. Most were in shock, except for a few brave or foolhardy protesters, one of whom rushed to the front and addressed the SS man with a snarl. The SS man shot him in the head. First, disbelief, and then shock, and more wailing began.

Batons were used to herd the crowd to tables manned by clerks who recorded personal data on paper. After passing through this barrier, the guards, and trustees held the crowd to await transport. Any dissenters faced brutal beatings from the authorities. The clerks recorded personal data on paper and processed everyone. Eventually, they took a roll call. The captives marched away towards the rail station. Abe, clutching his little satchel, was one of these. Shocked, he knew to keep his council.

The barriers opened, and the shuffling journey to the transport began. Grinning SS men shot a few of the older and frail Jews in cold blood. At the station, they checked their names off against the lists. The cursory check over saw them loaded into trucks for the train journey to their next stop. Abe was near the doorway of what was a cattle truck, but more people pushed in and the doors were slammed shut and bolted.

The space was insufficient for the number of "passengers" who stood with no windows and had to share a single bucket as a toilet. The stench was horrendous. Men, women, and children forced to defecate and urinate where they stood. Inhuman treatment that the Germans inflicted shocked Abe. After two days, the train rolled through the distinctive entrance to Auschwitz 2, or Birkenau. They opened the doors, flooding fresh air into the trucks. Those who had survived the journey staggered onto the ramp. They took away the dead in carts.

Standing on the platform, Abe regarded his fellow passengers, observing various facial expressions. Fear, puzzlement, resignation, and sometimes defiant anger. Brought into line, to be inspected by two men, one a kapo who addressed his companion as Herr Doktor. Some selected for working parties, whilst some women and children marched away towards a low building. Abe watched as they robbed them of their meagre belongings and stripped them before pushing inside the building. The guards locked the door and poured canisters of gas through vents on the roof and covering them. Abe saw none of them again.

They marched the rest of them off in a different direction towards many wooden huts. They allocated Abe a bunk in hut 48, which he had to share with two others. The hut contained only a latrine and a shower at one end and was otherwise devoid of any furnishings.

Later, the guards took the inmates outside, stripped them, hosed them down, shaved their heads and gave them new striped clothes with the Star of David emblem. They took them into small groups outside the barbed wire and stood outside an office block. They were each given a number which a kapo in the office tattooed onto their left forearm. Everyone was head-shaved, both men and women. Abe reported his occupation as a doctor.

'There's no special treatment for doctors here,' snarled the tattooist. You're just a number. '

The next morning, after a breakfast that comprised either tea or Ersatz coffee, they took a roll call, including the bodies of those who had died in the night. They issued Abe with a shovel and directed him with five others towards a patch of ground and ordered them to dig out for foundations. The kapo in charge of the working party stopped any attempt at conversation. When they returned to the hut, they found a cauldron steaming on a portable stove. The contents looked like dishwater, but a closer look revealed a couple of potatoes and what appeared to be fish heads. Supper! Each day, this was to be their diet, with the occasional cobs of stale crusty bread. The captors allowed them free time after they finished this "meal". They felt relieved to spend some time outside before cramming into their bunks.

Eighteen-year-old Miriam was frightened as she stumbled out of the cattle truck, her home for the last two days, holding on to Mama. The putrid air of the truck was still lingering, and they could smell it. They both scanned the crowd of bemused Jewish prisoners, hoping for a glimpse of Tata, who they had not seen since being herded out of the Krakow Ghetto. The surviving Jewish prisoners watched as the dead were loaded onto trucks for burial. A band was playing, and armed SS men were pushing and shoving the poor unfortunates, separating them into two lines. Miriam screamed as they dragged her away from Mama, who received a hit from a baton when she tried to keep together with her daughter. Miriam remembered being poked and leered at during registration before leaving the Ghetto.

The sorting being finished was the signal for the band to play a march. She watched as Mama's line walked off the ramp heading towards a low building being guarded by SS men, some holding snarling and growling dogs. They ushered the group inside and the doors closed. She would never see Mama again. The band played on as they marched her group toward what looked like wooden barracks. They split the men and women into separate groups before being assigned to their huts. Hut 45 housed females, some of them sharing a bunk. The smell of the trucks was fading and being replaced by another of burning flesh. Miriam imagined she was witnessing Dante's Inferno. Sitting on a bunk sorting her few possessions, she had never felt so alone and feared for her future.

Being in a crowded hut, she had to share a bunk with another woman called Elsa. Her new "friend" was older, but not old enough to go straight to the low hut with Mama. As they were getting to know each other, they were herded outside and ordered to strip. The kapo's turned hosepipes on them and stood there laughing and making lewd remarks. Miriam had never exposed herself to a man before, which made her feel anxious. Worse was to follow as the "barber" shaved their heads. The ladies stood on the carpet, covering themselves with their hands, as her long hair fell like autumn leaves. They were all handed striped suits and caps, complete with the star of David. It seemed to be one size fits all; the one allocated to Miriam was at least two sizes above her normal one. If it hadn't been so serious, they could have laughed at the sight of their new wardrobe.

After breakfast and roll call, they took them in small groups to see the tattooist, to receive their ID number. Later, the guards herded them off in groups of six, accompanied by the band playing martial music, to work in the fields. They employed others as cleaners. After supper, the authorities granted them some free time. Some took the air and flirted with some of the male prisoners. Miriam stayed in the hut chatting and listening to music provided by a frail lady who could play the flute. She herself had taken lessons. The following night, she joined the others outside.

Abe noticed a pretty- looking young woman standing a little apart from the primary group. He shouted to her and received a shy smile in return. They exchanged a few words, and he found out her name was Miriam. Each night after supper, he bumped into her, and soon they were looking forward to their trysts. As time went on, they slipped away for a more intimate meeting. Whilst Abe found Miriam attractive, she did not catch the eye of the camp brothel runners. He felt as though he was protecting Miriam; she didn't seem like the others, coming from a strict family whose business was in tailoring. She felt loved for the first time in her life. As often happens, they were a perfect match and became smitten with each other.

Her bunkmate had noticed the attraction and ribbed her about it. The flautist had died, and her friend, knowing that Miriam could play, albeit to a very amateur standard, passed the flute on to her.

Prisoners became ill, Abe did what he could to help, but the absence of medicines made it an impossible task, and he felt weak himself. People were dying and being replaced by newcomers. The next day at the working party, he addressed one guard about his fears and asked for medical supplies. For this, he received a severe beating. He was losing his positivity. Prisoners got nothing, and people scavenged for cigarette butts.

After a few weeks of hard labour, the authorities pulled him out of the working party and took him to what looked like offices. His ID was checked before they pushed him into a room to be confronted by a serious-looking man. He recognised him as the one they called Herr Doktor. The Doktor opened a file and looked at him before declaring, 'Well, Jew boy, you're a so-called Doctor?'

'Yes Herr Doktor,' advised the kapo standing behind him, with a push.

'Yes, Herr Doktor. I am.'

'How would you like to work for me?'

'As a doctor?'

'Well, not at first. There will be some surgery involved, but not until I have assessed your capabilities. Until then, you will be my clerk.'

Abe was disappointed, but the thought of no more hard labour made his mind up for him.

'Yes, I'd like that.'

'Good, you will move into my staff barracks and stay until I decide.'

They marched him back to hut 48 to collect his small bag of belongings. His cellmates looked on with interest as the guard marched him out. Life became a lot easier, with better accommodation and digestible food. Miriam was heartbroken, but Abe took the more practical view he could somehow save them both from the horrors that were Auschwitz. He was sad that he couldn't meet Miriam, but at every opportunity, they managed a few words and a hand- touch through the wire. His health improved, and he became friendly with a few other prisoners turned into helpers. Feeling quite important as he followed the Doktor, clutching his clipboard. Ignoring the malevolent looks he received from his ex-hut mates, and the few shouts of 'Moser.' He noticed a lot of things that were new to him. He saw a couple of young Jewesses walking along with arms linked to SS men. His new position meant that he had to make regular trips to Auschwitz, an old Polish army barracks, now used to house political prisoners.

After a few practice sessions, Miriam gained confidence and enjoyed trying out new tunes on the flute. She feared the worst when she saw Abe being marched towards the building. But was relieved on the following night when he hailed her from the other side of the wire.

'Oh, Abe! I was worried that they had taken you from me.'

He reassured her and explained, 'I've secured a job in the clinic and will be better fed and have a few privileges.'

'How can you work for that monster?'

'It's not good, but I'm a lot safer now. I'll have to get some employment for you.'

'Not working for him! I'd never forgive myself.'

She spent more time practising the flute and, after encouragement, joined one of the many bands around the camp. The Commandant's love of music had led to the formation of a camp orchestra that performed when he was entertaining members of the Nazi hierarchy. Playing for them, she enjoyed a less strenuous workload and some better-quality food. She still had to endure the jokes and lewd glances of the officers, who thought women were in the lower class, especially if they were Jews. She could still exchange greetings with Abe, who told her about the horrors he had seen.

'Oh, Abe! Please be careful what you say. We need to survive this wicked place and tell the world what we have witnessed.'

'I will, and soon we'll be together, my love.'

That night in the hut, Elsa, who seemed to know everything about the camp, sat down next to her.

'Miriam, did you say that you used to help your Mama I Tata with some bookkeeping for their business?'

'That's right, I did, but that's all gone now.'

'Well, I have a friend who works in Oskar Schindler's factory, and they are looking to employ a clerk with financial experience. Would you be interested?'

'Yes, I think I would, but how can I make that happen?'

'Leave it up to me, but you will have to give up your music.'

At the next meeting she had with Abe, he was becoming more distressed. She told him about her chance to move out of the camp.

'You must, my sweet. I believe Schindler treats people very well.'

They advised Miriam, two weeks before, that she was to have an interview for the factory job. Excitedly, she went to tell Abe her news, but he wasn't in his usual spot. Assuming he was working late, she went back to the hut.

Feeling quite important as he followed the Doktor, clutching his clipboard. Ignoring the malevolent looks he received from his ex-hut mates, and the few shouts of 'Moser.' He noticed a lot of things that were new to him. He saw a couple of young Jewesses walking along with arms linked to SS men. His new position meant that he had to make regular trips to Auschwitz, an old Polish army barracks, now used to house political prisoners and Jews. The iconic sign at the entrance promised, "Arbeit Macht Frei’' (Work sets you free). A concentration camp rather than an execution centre. He found out about the atrocities of the concentration camp, like starvation, confinement, and overcrowding. Shooting or hanging executed those resisting tortures.

He became more involved with the work of Herr Doktor and could assist in some minor operations. He felt that some of the surgery being carried out was unnecessary, and the Doktor had an agenda for research. One day, it shocked him to see an operation being carried out on a young girl's eye, without anaesthetic. Fear stopped him from protesting, and in the coming weeks, he saw more unethical practices.

Taking a break in the kitchen, he heard screams emanating from a room being used as an operating theatre. It overwhelmed him. A young woman was being held down by two SS men whilst his boss had his hands in her stomach cavity, again with no anaesthetic.

'Stop!' He screamed.

Mengele looked up. 'Get that yid out of here!' he snarled.

They escorted Abe back to hut 48.

That night, he rendezvoused with Miriam, and they slipped away for some romance. After morning roll call, they marched him out of the compound, not to the work site, but to the low hut he had noticed on arrival at the camp. Standing in line, he watched the Doktor approach to stand facing him.

'Herr Doktor, I have worked for you and done my best. Why are you doing this?'

The kapo addressed Abe, 'my friend, you were only a pawn in their game.'

Abe looked across the fence and smiled at a tearful Miriam.

Mengele gave a nod, and the doors opened to admit the next batch. They all trooped inside, and Abe heard the door slam. He said a brief prayer and looked up towards the vents. The crystals drifted down like the first snows of winter. On the other side of the wire, Miriam also prayed, with tears streaming down her face. Taking out her flute, she played a mournful tune. The only way she could say goodbye.

Eventually, Elsa, who had taken her under her wing, comforted her and led her back to the relative calmness of the hut.

'Tell me it's not true! Abe is still alive,' Miriam pleaded.

'Miriam, you must believe it,' Elsa whispered.

'No, no, it can't be,' Miriam sobbed.

'How can it be? Why does it have to be?' Miriam retorted, her bottom lip trembling.

'You're upset and angry, my dear. It's quite normal to feel that way.'

Before going to bed, Miriam knelt and prayed. 'Oh God, please let me have my Abe back. I'll promise never to doubt you again.'

Sleep didn't enfold her, even though Elsa held her tight. The following morning, a bleary-eyed Miriam declared, 'I knew you were mistaken. Abe came to me in the night.'

'Try to get some rest, my poor girl; you will understand one day.'

Miriam stayed in the bunk all day, twisting the threadbare blanket, sucking her thumb between bouts of sobbing. Elsa confided in one of the older inmates that she feared for Miriam. 'It's quite normal to have depression before accepting the truth,' said the wise old lady.

The following day, Miriam got out of bed and declared, 'I am determined to have my revenge on these evil people, especially that Dr Mengele.' She had accepted her loss.

Her proposed move to the Schindler factory had failed to happen, because of a communication error. Although disappointed, she vowed to continue with her music. Along with most of the prisoners, she felt helpless and couldn't strike back against her antagonists. All she could hope for was to survive the camp and tell the world of the horror. First, she had to ensure that away from the orchestra, she would melt into the background to avoid attention.

She felt she had to avenge Abe's death, but sabotage was out of the question. Others had tried, but it had only resulted in terrible retribution meted out by the monsters ruling the camp. Any scrap of paper, no matter how small, she scooped up and took to her little hidey-hole beneath her bunk. At the rehearsal, she found and secreted a small stub of a pencil. Thus began her journal. She wrote at night, documenting every pain and experience she endured during the day, no matter how difficult it was. Her mission made her more observant, and she wrote every minor event with care.

She covertly watched the behaviour of the guards and kapo's. Soon she could identify the ones who seemed reluctant and also those who were pure evil. The same also was true of the women guards. Some of her fellow prisoners could be quite nasty and greedy, and she concluded that in any group there was a mixture of good and evil in every community. She wondered why all this was happening to the camp inmates and whether people in the normal world were aware of the atrocities being carried out by the Nazis. She questioned why she had been born into the Jewish faith.

Miriam noticed a change in the demeanour of the guards, some of whom gave up on their strutting gait and even looked fearful; this gave her some hope for the future. Maybe retribution was coming. Fewer new prisoners came, and Herr Doktor inspected less often. Many rumours were circulating the camp and any distant loud noises thought to be gunfire. High-flying aircraft were sometimes audible. Another portent of salvation?

Mengele selected new targets for research because of the unavailability of victims from incoming trains. In particular, he looked for twins for his experiments. She did not see again many of those selected. With this recent development, it was essential for any sick inmate to hide. Because if Mengele noticed signs of disease, he would despatch the affected to the gas chambers without question. Miriam rarely saw the Commandant, Rudolf Höss, unless he attended the now sporadic concerts. She focused her hatred on Joseph Mengele, the so-called 'Angel of Death.'

With the more relaxed atmosphere of the camp, people looked forward with some hope instead of accepting their fate. During her observations, Miriam noted some guards were walking outside in mufti. Their gait degraded to a slouch, with shoulders hunched, which made her wonder if something was afoot. Could surrender be on the cards? How would the guards react? Would they slaughter the inmates and destroy the camp? Mengele seemed to have disappeared from the scene, and the Auschwitz 2 camp appeared to be dying. Miriam, along with many others, prayed daily, an activity which at one time would have resulted in punishment. At one roll call, a selection of fit people rounded up to march westwards towards Germany on what was to be known as the 'March of Death'. After they had left, only some six thousand prisoners remained, including Miriam. Alas, her friend, and mentor Elsa had succumbed to typhoid.

Musicians formed small bands to entertain prisoners when orchestral concerts ended. Working parties were no longer a daily event, and a scent of hope filled the air.

On the twenty-seventh of January 1945. Miriam awoke to a cold crisp morning; frost had blanketed the camp, which had an eerie silence about it, and the remaining inmates watched in wonder as soldiers marched through the open gates. Then, after a brief pause, some ragged cheers broke out when the incomers revealed to be Russian. Miriam saw shock and horror on faces when the liberators saw emaciated prisoners and piles of corpses. One soldier stood stock still, his face crumpled in disbelief at the sights he was witnessing. Others witnessed the devastation and found opportunities for themselves after months of fighting. During that first night, screams shattered the stillness, and later many of the poor young girls told of being raped by the Russian soldiers.

Auschwitz liberated, and they offered the prisoners food and drink. This humane act resulted in a backfire as the prisoners' stomachs reacted severely. Being denied food for so long, and they rejected the sustenance offered to them.

The next few days were a blur for Miriam, and after recovering a little, they gave her some clothes taken from condemned prisoners. Along with others, she moved to Krakow and inhabitants benevolently helped her. She thanked God that she had survived and dedicated her freedom to a crusade to bring the guards to justice, in particular Mengele. She sorted her notes, and with help, wrote a chronological account of her time under the Nazi cosh.

Scanning the newspeople, she searched for news of the whereabouts of her nation's tormentors. She was eager to relate her experiences, but Krakow was a maelstrom of rumours and gossip, and the press seemed to have an agenda. She spotted a story about a trial that was due to take place in Warsaw, where the former commandant of Auschwitz, Rudolf Höss, was to be charged. I Not possible for her to travel there, she had to follow the hearing in the papers. It satisfied her when she read he was guilty of war crimes and sentenced to death. On the sixteenth of April 1947, they fittingly hung him at Auschwitz. She kept reading, looking for news of Mengele, the self-styled Angel of Death, but he seemed to have disappeared. Another trial held in Krakow featured forty of the Auschwitz guards: twenty-three being hung and six handed life sentences. One name was missing, that of Joseph Mengele.

Life would never get back to normal for Miriam, and she was obsessed with finding any news of her chief antagonist. Rumours circulated the Americans had arrested him, but they later released him due to record transfer errors.

It was getting too hot for Mengele, and after several changes of identity, he surfaced in Argentina and gained sanctuary. Hastily, her friends recognised the danger and suggested that she should write up her story and publish it to tell the world.

The opening chapter relating to the murder of Abe was difficult to pen. Tears in her eyes made it hard to see the page, so she frequently had to rest. The memory of so many lost friends made her more determined to carry on, and finally, she had her manuscript.

After showing her manuscript around to friends, the verdict that punctuation and grammar were below par depressed her.

'I'm not a professional writer,' she pouted. 'I'm just a girl with a story to tell.'

'Don't worry! There's plenty of people in our community who will be prepared to help you,' said one of her friends. She enlisted the services of a copyeditor who worked on her document and returned it with pity in her eyes.

'I know someone who will publish it for you, Miriam, if you so wish.'She agreed, and a publisher took her on.

After reading her manuscript, the publisher told her who told her that the subject ensured best-seller status. Everyone involved in the project found it to be a heart-rending story. With guidance, she agreed the title would be An Angel of Death.

The book sold rapidly, and she could donate money to help Holocaust survivors.

The search for Mengele had continued, and Mossad, the Israeli intelligence organisation, got involved. Indeed, the group tracked down Adolf Eichmann, and they extradited him to Israel in 1960. Two years later, they tried and executed him. Mengele, using another alias, had moved to Brazil and merged into the community. International pressure on Israel meant Mossad put the hunt for war criminals on hold. Agents were still looking for him and found a man called Gerhard, who had drowned in 1976.

In 1985, a DNA test on Gerhard's exhumed body confirmed that this was Mengele. They stored his skeleton at the São Paulo Legal Medical Institute. This was the news that Miriam had been waiting for. She booked a trip to São Paulo.

Standing there looking at the skeleton of the man responsible for the most heinous atrocities, she laid a signed copy of her book, dedicated to Abe, next to it.

Stepping back, she whispered, 'Mamzer,' turned, and left. After forty-five years, Miriam was free.