POLISH SOURCE INSTITUTE IN LUND Lund, 30 January 1946

Testimony received by Institute Assistant Luba Melchior

Record of Witness Testimony 174

Here stands Ms Cecylja Skórecka [sic] born on 14 June 1907 in Działoszyce , occupation seamstress religion Jewish , parents’ forenames Henryk and Natalja last place of residence in Poland current place of residence Danska Skolan [Swed., lit. ‘Danish School’], Lund Kiliansgatan 11

who – having been cautioned as to the importance of truthful testimony as well as to the responsibility for, and consequences of, false testimony – hereby declares as follows: I was interned at the concentration camp in the Kielce ghetto from 1 April 1941 to 19 August 1942 as a political prisoner bearing the number [not completed] and wearing a [not completed] -coloured triangle with the letter [not completed] I was later interned in the [Ger., labour camp] in Kielce from 19 August 1942 to 29 May 1943, Ludwików (labour camp) from 29 May 1943 to 1 August 1944, Auschwitz concentration camp from early August 1944 to 1 November 1944, tattooed Ravensbrück from November 1944 to 22 November 1944 [sic], and Malchow from 23 November 1944 to 26 April 1945.

Asked whether, with regard to my internment and my labour at the concentration camp, I possess any particular knowledge about how the camp was organized, how prisoners were treated, their living and working conditions, medical and pastoral care, the hygienic conditions in the camp, or any particular events concerning any aspect of camp life, I state as follows: Cecylia Skorecka [sic] Kielce Round-ups for transport to the Bełżec camp, forced contributions The Kielce ghetto Arrests after the outbreak of war with Russia, transports to labour camps, food in the ghetto, death penalty for leaving the ghetto, mass The Arbeitslager in Kielce (as ghetto was re-named after the mass deportations) Accommodation conditions, registration for Palestine, crackdowns against doctors, transports to Bliżyn and , the liquidation of the Arbeitslager Transfer to Ludwików The camp established there, departure for Auschwitz Auschwitz Camp diet, hygienic conditions, punishments, Strafkommando [Ger., punitive labour detail], tattooing, transports, selections in neighbouring camps, our transport Departure for Ravensbrück Arrival at the camp, quarantine block, how the prisoner functionaries treated us, Appells [Ger., roll calls], transport to the factory

BLOM’S PRINTING, LUND 1945

Arrival at Malchow Reception, assignment to blocks, accommodation conditions, hygienic conditions, how the camp was organized, gunpowder factory, working conditions, the working day, [illegible crossing-out], scabies outbreak, camp diet, change of conditions at the camp under the influence as a result of a newly arrived transport, changes resulting from political developments

1

After the German occupation of Kielce had begun, [note written above text] labour [/note] round-ups would often take place. In 1940, round-ups for Bełżec were organized. Jews would be taken from the streets or their homes and made to stand in the square. Some of them were put in prison and sent on to Buchenwald, such as my brother-in-law. The rest were sent to Bełżec, on the Russian border, where they were treated the same as in other concentration camps: starvation, filth, and protracted standing at Appell decimated the inmates. Everyone tried to save their loved ones; they would pay the Bełżec authorities ransom in the form of money or jewellery. Within three months, those people had already been [note written above text] worn out [/note] beyond recognition. A lot of people were executed by firing squad at Bełżec. Very few returned to Kielce. It was typical for the German authorities [note written above text] in Kielce [/note] to demand contributions in the form of [note written above text] large sums of [/note] money and jewellery. The authorities would hold hostages as collateral to ensure that the ransom was paid on time. The Poles were also forced to pay contributions on one occasion; the Jews, however, were constantly being forced to pay them. In November 1939, the Germans dragged the mayor of Kielce, Słowik [note written above crossing-out] Artwiński [/note], somewhere outside the city; there they beat him horribly and later murdered him. The next day he was found in Słowik, not far from Kielce. The German authorities provided a description of the man, allegedly found without any papers, noting that they were seeking his killer and asking whether anyone from the city knew him [note written above text] the murder victim [/note]. But it was common knowledge the Germans were behind it, as he had been an inconvenience for them, often opposing their directives. His family wasn’t allowed near his remains at first; only after the coffin had been sealed were they given access. On 1 April 1941, the ghetto was established. All of the Jews had to move together into a Jewish district. The ghetto was ringed with [barbed] wire and outside the exits were signs that read ‘Seuchengebiet’ [Ger., ‘infected area’] so that no Aryans would come near. For six weeks the ghetto was tightly sealed; no one left the district. Then passes to the Aryan quarter began to be issued to those who worked for Germans or at other establishments. All Jews leaving the ghetto had to be in possession of an Entlausungschein (delousing card), an Impfungschein (vaccination card), and a Gesundheitschein (health card).

2

These certificates were issued by Jewish public health committees, Jewish doctors. The ghetto was a completely separate and autonomous body. The Jews had their own administration. At first, the Germans didn’t come to the ghetto. Directives were relayed by telephone, and the head of the Jewish government had to carry out the instructions. In January 1942, the German authorities ordered the Jews to turn in all articles of fur clothing. Anyone who withheld any fur would be punished by death. For the most part the Jews burned their furs, but a certain amount had to be handed over. Some Jews hid their furs; one woman was caught and shot dead. One night before 1 May 1942, the conducted a sweep in the city. People were taken out of their homes; some of them were killed on the spot, while others were sent to a camp. After the outbreak of war with Russia, all officers and NCOs were arrested and sent to Auschwitz along with anyone who had returned legally from Polish territory occupied by Russia. Of those who left on that transport, only one person remains, Dr Krauze. In the ghetto, contingents of people were often assembled for expulsion to and Skarżysko to work in the gunpowder mills and heavy manufacturing plants. The working and hygiene conditions there were terrible: twelve-hour shifts and a diet consisting of 100 grams of bread and two servings of soup a day. People were dropping like flies in those camps. What’s more, there were frequent selections. The weak workers would be [note written above text] shot dead on the spot and [/note] replaced with a new, healthy labour force. The food situation in the Kielce ghetto was more and more dire. The rations were like those in the [note written above text] concentration [/note] camps. Although there was contact with the Aryan quarter, it was costly [note written above text] expensive [/note] to buy smuggled items. Financial resources among the Jews were running out. In the streets of the ghetto, people would often collapse in the street, swollen from starvation. At the same time, a typhus epidemic was raging. It was forbidden for both Jews and Poles to get vaccinated against typhoid fever. Any doctor who was caught vaccinating risked being deported to the camp in Auschwitz. Leaving the ghetto without a pass was punishable by the death penalty.

3 Those were the kinds of punishments that were meted out. People who were imprisoned for smuggling were released a week or two before the deportations, and then during the operation they were mixed in with the other deportees. In August, a rumour went round that there would be mass deportations. It was thought that this particular operation would affect anyone receiving welfare provisions. On the night of 19 August 1942, the Germans surrounded the ghetto and launched the operation. The town was divided into three districts and every two days a transport went out. Of the 28,000 Jews, 1,500 were left. Hospital patients, children in shelters, and residents of the old-age home were poisoned with injections of Evipan [hexobarbital] and mercuric chloride. It was injected into their veins. The injections were performed by Jewish hospital staff. First, the Germans made a count of everyone who was still in hospital, the healthy and the ill. They set a deadline and assigned responsibility to the hospital staff and the Jewish authorities. While the operation was going on, several hundred people were gunned down in the railway station, in the ghetto, and in transit. Two Gestapo men made a sort of game for themselves. They suggested that the weaker and older people who were having difficulty walking should stop and rest, reassuring them that carts would come for them. After the rest of the Jews in that lot had gone past, they led those people off to a deserted street in the ghetto, revolvers in hand, singing Chopin’s Funeral March. They shot the entire group dead in the ghetto. I was called out of the group. Hauptmann [Ger. rank equivalent to captain] Geier had ordered that I be found and brought to police headquarters. He needed me: I’m a seamstress and I made dresses for his lady. The same was being done with other craftspeople who were needed. Of the craftswomen who were left, there was me, the wives of Jewish policemen, and the labourers at the folwark [Pol., large-scale farming enterprise] that had been put into administration. There were about 100 of us women left. The 1,500 Jews remaining after the deportations were relocated to a single street, ulica Jasna. The new district bore the designation of Arbeitslager [labour camp]. Everyone had to go to work and no one received any pay [note written above text] remuneration [/note]. The work was at German-run establishments, at Huta Ludwików factory [Pol., lit. ‘Ludwików Steelworks’], and in quarries. A few women would go off every day to clean the German police barracks and to sort clothes left behind by the deported Jews. Kitchen staff would stay behind in the camp and prepare food for the internees, hospital staff, and doctors. The workers would be escorted by Jewish policemen.

4

The accommodation conditions in the ghetto Arbeitslager were poor. Each little room would have seven people living in it. As a result, we were plagued by bedbugs, and fleas were also widespread. During the deportations, the fleas had got so bad that a person’s body would be completely covered in spots. The Germans would come to the camp in high boots and long gloves, with their collars buttoned high up their necks. Even so, the fleas got at them. The plague of fleas lasted up until the frosts. In winter, there was no fuel for heating in the camp. We would burn fences and any wooden building extensions we could find in the camp. Even the toilets got dismantled. The cold tormented us terribly. The harsh conditions meant that people would look for ways to save themselves. Many Jews tried to get Aryan documents in order to get out of the camp. Some of them succeeded. Others were caught and shot dead along with their families. In December, a registration was held for Jews who had relatives in Palestine. My husband knew the Kielce Gestapo chief. The latter gave assurances that the registration had a solid basis and that those who had relatives would go to Palestine. An exchange was to be made with the English for German citizens in their custody. After the uprising in the , he – the same Gestapo man – told my husband that the exchange had been called off as punishment for the . The Gestapo carried out a crackdown on former communists. Everyone who bore the same surname as someone suspected of communism was eliminated straightaway. As a result of these various operations, by May there were around 800 Jews left. On 21 March 1943, there was a crackdown on Jewish doctors. It was said to be an offering for German heroes, a so-called Heldentag [Ger., lit. ‘heroes’ day’]. Jewish doctors along with their families were taken to the Jewish cemetery and blown up with grenades. They had been tricked into going. They had been told to take their surgical instruments and luggage, that they were going to another camp where there weren’t any Jewish doctors. There was a single doctor left in the camp. The camp had a day clinic and a hospital for the infirm. You were allowed to be ill for a maximum of three days. There were even

C. Skorecka

5 Testimony of Cecylja Skórecka, cont’d some medicines, because the Jewish government would acquire them illegally in the Polish quarter. For personal services, the Germans retained craftspeople who weren’t permitted to work anywhere else. They used the remaining workshops of the once great craft industries of the ghetto. Before the deportations, 500 craftspeople had been employed; afterwards, a mere 50 could be scraped together. And I was one of them. On 1 April 1943, forty craftspeople were sent from the workshops to Bliżyn, a new camp erected on the site of a Russian POW camp that had been completely wiped out. In name it was an artisans’ camp, but in reality it was one of the harshest concentration camps, where people had to work in camps quarries. We stayed behind in Kielce and worked privately for Geier, direc Hauptmann of the Kielce Schutzpolizei [Ger., uniformed police service]. It was unofficial. In the event of an inspection by higher-ups from Radom, we had to hide our work. We were working in the camp itself at that point. On 29 May, the camp was [note written above text] liquidated [/note]. The camp was surrounded by military policemen and Ukrainians armed with hand grenades and machine guns. Everyone was made to stand out in the square. The craftspeople were lined up separately and sent on to Bliżyn. Only a few people stayed behind: four tailors, an upholsterer, and a painter who Geier still had a personal need for. They were added to the Huta Ludwików workers. Only The rest were sent to Bliżyn and Pionki (gunpowder mills). At the same time, the thirty-six children who were left in the camp were killed in a mass shooting. Several boys managed to save themselves by hiding in an attic. They were smuggled to Ludwików, which was the only plant that was still running. Elderly women and the weak were also liquidated. The only ones untouched were the young and healthy, those capable of the hardest work. In Ludwików, we were put up in barracks next to the factory. A large building was constructed that had room for all 350 of us. We had good hygienic conditions. The food rations were meagre. But we had contact with the outside world and the management, which was made up of civilians, turned a blind eye. They treated us like workers they were happy with. There was a day clinic for all the factory

6 workers. There was no hospital. You were not allowed to be sick for three days. There was an accident at the factory. A Jewish worker broke both his legs on the job. On the orders of the Hauptmann of the German police, he was killed the same day, being unfit for work. The factory working day was ten hours long. Jews, apart from working in the factory, were taken to load railway wagons for four to five hours a day. Polish workers helped us to contact the outside world. Jews and Poles formed collective underground organizations. On 1 August 1944, the plants were liquidated because of the approaching front. We were told that we were going to the factory central office in Gliwice, but in fact we were taken to Auschwitz. The managers gave us enough provisions to last the journey. We rode in coal hoppers without any straw, eighty people to a wagon. We were escorted by Ukrainians who had been our guards in Ludwików. In Auschwitz, we were separated from the men at the station. We were led to the baths; everything was taken from us. In exchange for our clothes, we received pyjama tops and bottoms but no underwear. We were led to the block. It was a ‘horse barracks’: there was clay for floors on both sides and between them a stone walkway it was forbidden to step on. The bunk beds were in stacks of three on both sides. Thirteen people [illegible crossing-out] would sleep in each bunk, without blankets; in October each bunk was given two blankets. We had Appell twice a day, from 3 to 8 a.m. After Appell we got a dinner of soup. The filthy dishes presented an awful sight. Three or four portions would be ladled into one dish, and everyone would have to eat from a single bowl. There weren’t any spoons. After Dinner was served outside. We would sit on the ground. We weren’t allowed to go into the barracks until one o’clock, regardless of the weather. At one o’clock there was a Blocksperre [Ger., block lockdown]. We would have to lie on the bunks; it was forbidden to go outside. From time to time, we would be snatched between Appells and made to carry bricks and grass, or shovel earth at construction works. Evening Appell was from 5 to 9 p.m. After Appell, 350 grams of bread was rationed out in the square. Twice a week there would be something extra: a tiny portion of margarine, honey, or sausage.

7

The hygienic conditions were appalling. There was no way to get to the Waschraum [Ger., washroom]. The Waschraum would be open when there was a Blocksperre or Appell. And then when it was open and we were free to use it, there would be so many people, such a crush, that you would have to fight for a spot by the taps. And at that happy moment [note written above text] when you finally made it to the taps [/note], the water would usually stop running. Frequent punishments were the bane of the prisoners. We never knew the reason. We would be made to kneel for several hours at a time. We weren’t allowed to ask what we were being punished for; if we did, we would immediately be punched. The camp streets and barracks were swept with rags. The camp had two toilet blocks that were difficult to get into. During the few hours that we had to spend wandering around outside, the toilets would be out of service, or ‘closed for cleaning’, as it was described. The toilet was our meeting place. There we would eat our bread and sit out the cold. It was already quite frosty in the morning. We were without any underwear. We would try buying some in exchange for bread, for all the good it did us when every few days there were searches where the blokowa [chief prisoner of a block, from Ger. Blockälteste] would strip us of any illegal undergarments. Every few days we would be examined during Appell. We were checked to see whether we were lice- had scabies. The camp had a special block where people with scabies infestations were held and treated. Other skin ulcerations weren’t treated. There was also a Revier [Ger., infirmary] in the camp; but, having been warned by the older prisoners, we avoided it like the plague. Selections would take place there very often, or rather the patients would be taken away to the crematorium. Transports would arrive daily at the camp from various parts of the world. There were women of every nationality there, a real Tower of Babel. They were all starving. The sight of people snatching little potfuls of soup out of the kettles left an awful impression. The soup was carried about in uncovered barrels between two bars. Ten people would carry a single barrel. As punishment for stealing soup, the blokowas would beat the perpetrator terribly or make her kneel for several hours with a stone held high above her head. People would also be assigned to the Strafkommando as punishment; there the prisoners had to work from one Appell to the next, carrying bricks or sand, digging ditches, or draining swampland.

8

On the third day after arriving at Auschwitz, we were registered and tattooed. We were made to stand outside; despite the rain, we weren’t let into the office. We stood in the rain half the day, waiting our turn. There was a characteristic smell in the camp. We were initially told that it was burning rags. It turned out that it was actually the stench of corpses being burnt in open pits. The pits were adjacent to the neighbouring camp. Bordering on our camp was Field C, which was a death camp. It was mostly Hungarian transports that went there. The youngest and healthiest were sent to Magdeburg and Hamburg to work in underground factories, while those who stayed in the camp went to the crematorium. The women were generally naked at that camp; Appells were held regularly in order to carry out selections. Selections generally took place [note written above text] at night [/note]. Then you would hear people screaming; this was accompanied by the barking of dogs that the Germans had brought to lighten their task – to keep people from hiding – as well as the sound of gunshots. When selections were taking place in that camp, we weren’t allowed to look out of the barracks. Camp C was separated from us by a ditch and electrified wire, such that you could see everything. Despite the prohibition, we would peer outside without being detected. Women would go out naked to those Zählappells [Ger., lit ‘counting roll calls’]; they would line up single file and pass before a panel made up of a doctor, SS men, and aufseherkas [women guards, from Ger. Aufseherin]. The women would keep one arm raised and any who had the slightest imperfection in their figure were marked down for the crematorium. Almost every night we could hear shouting and the sounds of people being hounded in Camp C. There was a devilish system whereby everyone in the camp would be led to a yard at the far end of the camp called the ‘Wiese’ [Ger., lit. ‘meadow’], where we would stay from Appell till dinnertime. Tens of thousands of us stood gathered in a relatively small area where we had to squeeze in against each other. Dramatic scenes would take place there – someone suddenly catching sight of a family member or loved one. The first impression was always very intense. The changed

9 Testimony of Cecylja Skórecka, cont’d faces and hairless heads made it feel as though we had encountered each other not in the real world but in some kind of satanic, unearthly world. Here and there were Frenchwomen who had arrived a few days earlier and hadn’t yet come to appreciate the peril they were in, imagining that in two or three days they would be sent away; they were dancing, laughing, and singing. Others were praying out loud, and still others were sobbing. It was from there that we would be snatched away to work carrying bricks or grass. The work consisted in each woman carrying a fistful of grass; it wasn’t hard, but it was so painstaking and the conditions were such that it drove women mad. We would carry the grass a few kilometres in the most sweltering heat. A sort of dullness would come over you; you would become vacant-minded, apathetic. At Auschwitz, you lived in a state of constant tension, constant anticipation of selections and the worst; the ovens of the crematoria were always burning away. On all four sides there was billowing smoke. One of the ovens wasn’t far from our camp, so a heart-shaped flame could be seen very clearly. At night we would oftentimes go out to the lavatory, which was situated some seventy steps away. When we went outside, the camp would be pitch dark, as the camp was completely unlit, or at least the greater part of it was, but then towards the end the whole camp was always ablaze: smoke coming out of all the chimneys; the sky completely red, keeping us awake. We would cover our heads with our dresses, because there weren’t enough blankets, but even that didn’t help; the light would drill its way into our brains. During the afternoon Appells, before our eyes was the constant sight of fire belching from the chimneys, whichever way we turned. Naked corpses from the Krankenhaus [Ger., hospital] would also be moved then, while we were standing at Appell. At that time [note written above text] In September [/note] the transports began. A frenzy came over us. We didn’t know how we should regard them. Opinions were divided: some women claimed they were death transports; yet others saw them as a source of salvation, a way out of Auschwitz. Everyone’s desire was to get out of that hell, if only so as not to have to look at the flames leaping from the burning human bodies. Everyone saw their loved ones in that fire. We ultimately followed our intuition, because reason couldn’t help us.

10

Suddenly, word got out that Dr Mengeles [sic] was about to come to the camp, and we knew what that man-devil’s name meant: a man who’d had hundreds of thousands of people sent to the crematorium without batting an eyelid – because he was the one who conducted selections. When he announced his visit, there was a Blocksperre; no one was allowed out of the block. The barracks were all locked down and guards were posted at the exits. Decisions were often taken as to an entire block: whether it should be sent to the ‘chimney’, or whether there would be a selection. In the meantime, everyone from the block would have to stand naked outside in the yard, where they would wait for several hours naked. When an entire block was sent away, it was called a ‘transport into the unknown’. The next day the block would be filled with new Zugang [Ger., lit. ‘intake, admissions’]. In 1943, our camp had been a family camp, where Czech Jewish families had been interned for half a year (so said the old prisoners). Things had been relatively all right for them. The children had a special block which was called the Kinderheim [Ger., lit. ‘children’s home’]. Particularly conspicuous was a fairy-tale scene with Baba Yaga [a witch-like figure from Slavic folklore] painted on the barrack wall. It depicted gingerbread houses and Baba Yaga sliding children into an oven. The painting survived right up until when we arrived. One day, the whole camp had been cleared and everyone in it was incinerated. Neighbouring our camp from the other side was a men’s camp, Camp B. At first, there were men of mixed nationalities there. They were sorted and separated. Later we witnessed frequent selections. The frosty weather had set in, yet the men would stand half naked for half a day at a stretch. Selections were held for the crematorium and partially for work; the following day the camp was empty; more people were brought in; and a few days later the whole process was repeated. The hospitals would quite often undergo purges both in our camp and the men’s. We would usually know about it – an acquaintance of ours was a doctor at the men’s camp. Physically and spiritually exhausted, we decided to leave on a transport. Typically, when there was a transport, some women would try to flee; they were afraid and preferred to stay in the camp. So they would run and the aufseherkas would run after them; those who were caught

11 were beaten badly. Still others actually wanted to get onto a transport, but the SS men wouldn’t take them and would beat them for trying to tag along. On 1 November 1944, Kielce, Radom, and Starachowice were transported; the city names indicated the camps [the prisoners had previously been] transported from. All of these transports were consisted of people who had been employed in Rüstungsbetriebs [Ger., arms factories]. We were certain that they were taking us to the crematorium, because among us there were elderly women and children. Indeed, there ended up being a selection in the baths and the children, sore-afflicted, and elderly were taken aside. That transport wasn’t executed, for an order had come through to stop the burning. So many of those people managed to stay alive. Those of us who were capable of working were taken to Ravensbrück. In the bathhouse, we had to change our clothes; regardless of the fact that it was already November, we were kitted out as if it were summertime. We were led to a block without any windowpanes; a dreadful, cold draught rain lashed through the openings, and we had to sit on the bunks, underdressed and uncovered. We were shivering with cold. We weren’t given any food. We spent half the day sitting in the block. At 2 p.m. we were led outside for departure. We were taken to a ramp. Before getting on the train, we were each given an entire loaf of bread, a quarter of a kilogram of margarine, and a quarter of a kilogram of sausage. We were loaded sixty people to a wagon. We reckoned we were saved. Despite how crowded it was in the wagons and despite the cold, we felt like we had been rescued. The bread portion had lifted our spirits. The Postens [Ger., (male) guards] who were escorting us were older people and they treated us all right; they didn’t beat us. We travelled two days and one night. At 1 or 2 a.m. the following night, we pulled into a siding not far from Ravensbrück, as was indicated by a nearby board with writing on it. Aufseherkas and Postens with dogs were already waiting for us. The road to the camp was quite far away. It was a cold night; we were led through a lakeside town. Part of the road passed through a pine forest. Past the forest, there were streets with little houses that we found delightful. A deathly silence hung all around us – it seemed as though the whole area had been deserted – meanwhile our wooden clogs made a tremendous clacking. We were led to the camp. A large iron gate

12 opened before us. We were counted. There were 1,250 of us altogether. We were led into what was called the Zelt [Ger., tent]. It was a stone-floored tent. We were held in the Zelt for three days. We were without any water. I drank water from the gutter. On the third day, we were given our first meal. Later, we were taken to the bathhouse. We weren’t made to change our clothes this time. We were led to the transport block. All of us were housed there together. The block had indoor plumbing, which seemed to us like a luxury. The block had a floor that was washed daily, but we weren’t allowed to enter with our shoes on. The beds were narrow and stacked three high. On each bed was a straw-stuffed mattress and a blanket. Each of these rather narrow beds was shared by two people. Our impression of Ravensbrück was quite good. The camp personnel were polite to us, in stark contrast with Auschwitz. For the first time, we encountered prisoner appointees who spoke to us like human beings. The crematorium prisoners didn’t threaten us, as they had done at Auschwitz; on the contrary, they consoled us and congratulated us on having made it out of hell. They told us that here we were out of harm’s way. At Ravensbrück, we felt completely different from before. We believed them when they said that the end of the war was near and that we would survive. The only thing that was hard for us to take were the long, drawn- out Appells. Even though we weren’t dressed warmly enough, we would have to stand between four and five hours, and the weather was really rather frosty. The air was bitterly cold, but better than at Auschwitz. After Appell, we would be given some warm coffee, and apart from that we could spend all day lying in bed. We regarded Ravensbrück as a holiday resort. Food was served in the blocks – not outside like at Auschwitz – in clean dishes, and everyone got a dish for herself. After three weeks, we were led out into the main street of the camp for inspection. Looking us over was a munitions factory manager who had come from Malchow. He chose the good-looking young women. The next day we went to the Revier for a medical examination. We stripped naked. We were taken to a room. On a table sat a uniformed SS doctor; he looked us over while nurses looked at our arms, legs, eyes, and teeth. The next day we were taken

Cecylia Skorecka

13 to the bathhouse. We were made to change clothes. The baths lasted all night, because they took us one group at a time. The next day, 22 November, we left for Malchow. Before leaving the camp at Ravensbrück, a military man delivered a speech to us (I don’t know if he was the head of the camp), saying that we were going away to work and that if we weren’t lazy we would be treated humanely and would return to our homes after the war. (How that made us laugh!) We were given a bread ration in the square, and we walked off escorted by aufseherkas and SS men armed with rifles. The aufseherkas were young; the bulk of them were workers from Malchow who had only recently been inducted into the SS. The Postens, for their part, were older people averaging between fifty and sixty years of age who were no longer fit to serve on the front, mostly Volksdeutsche [ethnic Germans] from Ukraine, Pomerania, Bohemia, and Hungary. There were even some who had very poor German and spoke Russian instead. They treated us relatively well; they didn’t beat us. The young aufseherkas were also good to us at first. We travelled to Malchow forty people to a cattle wagon. An SS man and aufseherka accompanied us in each wagon. They reassured us along the way, claiming that we were going to a good camp and that we would be doing clean factory work, not very hard and in good conditions. We arrived in Malchow at night. We were led through a tidy little town; it was dark. The road to the camp passed through woodland. At the camp we were received by the factory boss and the factory guards. We were led into the canteen, where we were pleasantly surprised. They received us without shouting or barking orders. We went in one at a time, and each woman received two new, ‘clean’ blankets and a porcelain bowl to eat from. We couldn’t believe our own eyes. Later we were assigned 120 people to a block. The block was composed of five Stubes [Ger., rooms]. In each Stube there were twelve sets of double bunk beds stacked in twos with new straw mattresses and pillows. The block was clean. We saw that what the Postens had pledged was proving to be true

14 after all: we were going to be treated as workers. The fact that the factory was taking care of us we regarded as a good sign. As it turned out, we had arrived at a disorganized camp. Before us, there had been French families living there; they had been brought in to do forced labour. The next day, we were able to have a look around and see where we were. It turned out we were in a camp surrounded by [barbed] wire. The camp was in a very area [sic], among pine forests. It was a clean camp; you could see the barracks hadn’t been used much. Altogether there were ten residential barrack blocks. The barracks had plumbing. Each block had its own fully equipped Waschraum. Fourteen people could wash at the same time – because that’s how many taps there were – and there were 120 of us in the block. We considered that a luxury. We went into raptures at the sight of the clean tables where we could take our meals – because reading or writing was out of the question. Each room had four lamps, so it was bright enough inside. The day after arrival was when the camp began to be organized. Each barrack block had its own blokowa and two sztubowas [Ger., prisoner functionary subordinate to blokowa, from Ger. Stubenälteste], whose duties were cleaning and distribution of rations. The woman commandant of the camp chose prisoners to serve as functionaries. She chose two schreiberkas [prisoner secretaries, from Ger. Schreiberin]. Among the prisoners were a woman doctor and a nurse who had been assigned to us in Ravensbrück. The Revier didn’t have any medicines. The camp was a subcamp of Ravensbrück, which was eighty kilometres away. All directives and supplies were issued by Ravensbrück. Altogether, there were 1,000 of us prisoners. After a few days we went to the factory; but first we had numbers sewn on us that we had received back at Ravensbrück, and we had two white crosses painted on our coats and dresses. The factory was eight kilometres from the camp. The way there passed through a beautifully cultivated pine forest criss-crossed by asphalt boulevards. The factory itself was scattered all over the forest; it was said to stretch over an area of ten kilometres.

15

There were various departments. It was a chemical works that had many different departments. The factory employed French people, Italians, Russians – both men and women. They worked in the various departments and lived in neighbouring fenced-off camps; they walked to work unescorted, but to access the town they had to show passes. We weren’t allowed to have any contact with them. The factory complex had a peculiar appearance about it. It consisted of a great number of small single-storey buildings, so-called ‘bunkers’. All of the buildings were camouflaged. The roofs were flat and sown with pine trees and grass. Later, the road to the factory was also camouflaged. The entire woodland factory complex was closed to outsiders not working there. There was a sentry post at the entrance. Smoking was forbidden throughout the forest. The factory bunkers had central heating and plumbing. The pipes that distributed steam for heating ran above ground and they were camouflaged too, painted green. Our transport, made up of Polish, Czech, Hungarian, and French Jewish women, was put to work in a section that produced bullet cartridge cases. The work wasn’t dirty or hard. Most importantly, there was central heating, so it was warm – and it had to be warm because gunpowder, our raw material, spoiled when it was too cold or damp. Each bunker was staffed by twenty women prisoners on average. Some of us were weighers, which demanded precision, because any carelessness could cause an explosion. Others [note written above text] worked [/note] the ‘press’, as it was called; that was a standing job. The vorarbeiterkas [forewomen, from Ger. Vorarbeiterin] were young German civilians. We weren’t allowed to talk with them. Before our arrival, they had been warned to be careful, because the workers were delinquents – dangerous criminals even. The vorarbeiterkas followed the rules to the letter. Since they were responsible for productivity – and even got bonuses – they drove us to work harder. They were always raising the quota. On the whole, they didn’t beat us. Complaints would be directed to the aufseherkas. We would be taken to work by Postens and aufseherkas, the latter of whom would stay with us in the bunker throughout our shift. From the moment we got there, the Postens would guard the factory; they were always anxious that we might escape.

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We would be woken up at 3 a.m. We would get coffee in the morning. Appell was held at 4 and later 4.30 a.m.; at 5 a.m. we set off for work. Work started at 6 a.m. It took an hour to get there. During Appell, roll call would be taken by the Lagerführer [Ger., (male) camp commandant] and the lady commandant. On our way out we would be counted; we would walk out in fives, under orders to link arms. They considered that a means of keeping us from escaping. On our way into the factory complex we would be counted a second time, and one last time on our way into the bunker. During the shift they would make an attendance list to check whether all numbers (prisoners) were present and accounted for. At noon there was a one-hour lunch break. We would be taken over to a special bunker where there was an elegant dining room, and we would be counted in front of that bunker too, despite having been escorted by Postens and aufseherkas. For lunch We weren’t allowed to put on our coats even though it was winter – a rather harsh one – and the walk to the dining room took ten minutes. After lunch, work resumed at one o’clock and went on until six. Twelve hours. It was a two-shift system: when we were finishing, a second shift was waiting in front of the bunker. One week we would work in the daytime, the next at night. The night shift was also twelve hours long with a break from midnight to one o’clock in the morning. At first, they [sic] would get soup at night. Later, the soup was cancelled. They would work all night long without a meal. Still we [sic] would be tormented, because we would be taken to the dining room where we got nothing. A special page in the history of our factory ordeals is occupied by the toilet. We weren’t allowed to leave the bunker unaccompanied. Trips to the toilet were made under aufseherka escort twice during the twelve- hour shift. She would assemble a group and we would all go together. We all suffered from bladder problems because we were insufficiently dressed and fed on a diet of vegetable soup, which had a strong diuretic effect on us. We would often cry from the pain. But if any woman couldn’t hold it in and went out to the woods, she would get a beating and be made to stand for several hours

Cecylia Skorecka

17 Testimony of Cecylja Skórecka, cont’d in the camp after work. The walk to the factory was very arduous. Our footwear consisted of heavy wooden clogs, and it was a long walk. Many of us, that is, ninety-five per cent, had swollen legs. The [woman] doctor couldn’t excuse us from work. The only ones who stayed behind were those with wounds or a temperature of 39°C. There was no treatment, no medicines. For the most part, there weren’t any lice in the camp. But oddly enough scabies found its way in and of course overran the camp; to there was no ointment for it. It was mostly Hungarian women who got scabies; untreated, it caused ulcerations of the skin. Some prisoners would break out in pustules all over their bodies. Only after the evacuation of Auschwitz was much-needed Mitigol [a sulphur- based scabies remedy] shipped into Ravensbrück, and from there on to Malchow. As there wasn’t much of that ointment, the Revier administered it sparingly, and women would try to buy a little from the doctors in exchange for bread. The bread allotment was 200 grams a day. The diet was bearable at first. We would get 330 grams of bread and two servings of soup a day, but later the ration fell to 180 grams of bread and one serving of watery soup. The period of hunger began with the arrival of a transport of Auschwitz evacuees from Ravensbrück, which also aggravated our housing conditions. The camp population swelled by 3,000 people. We were squashed together. From then on we slept two to a bed. Fuel to heat the blocks wasn’t provided, and it was the coldest time of year (late January, February). The barracks had single-layer walls; the snow would settle on them. We used to sleep in our headscarves. Granted, a lot of food was shipped in from Ravensbrück – the stores were full – yet the rations were smaller and smaller. Bread would go mouldy in storage, and that mouldy bread was all we would be given. With the arrival of the new transport, relations took a turn for the worse in the camp. A new Lagerführer arrived, as well as a lady commandant from Lublin, Płaszów, and Auschwitz who was famous for her cruel deeds. She completely overhauled the camp regime. She would demand bribes in the form of diamonds, dresses, coats, etc.

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You would even have to pay up with bread. And those who fulfilled her demands enjoyed special privileges. The first transport didn’t have anything to offer, because we’d been through so many searches. The prisoners from Auschwitz, taking advantage of the disarray there, had managed to take a lot of clothes and jewellery along with them. From then on, the camp was ruled by injustice; the new regime came at a cost for certain prisoners. Until that point, such [guard–prisoner] relations had been unknown in our camp. Above all, there hadn’t been any system of patronage. The previous komandofuhrerka [(female) overseer of a work gang, from Ger. Kommandoführerin] had tried to be the same for everyone. The new lady commandant, Doris, beat and bullied people. It was too crowded in the camp; there was talk of a transport. No one knew who would be affected. In the factory there were many workers who looked absolutely awful. They were replaced with new healthy young girls. Illnesses spread throughout the camp, mostly as a result of exhaustion. Remarkably, the first transport, despite working hard at the factory, despite the difficult conditions and extreme exhaustion, hadn’t got very sick percentage-wise. There hadn’t been any fatalities. After the arrival of the transport from Auschwitz, fatalities occurred and the Revier was full. An all-powerful hunger hung over the camp. Many people had stopped going to work. Women would faint at Appell. We would be fed soup made from boiled parsnips and vegetable peels. The front was drawing nearer; the stores were full; in the fear that the parsnips would rot completely, we were fed that same unsalted soup every day. One day, the entire camp was ill. Many people were fainting; everyone was in the grip of stomach ache and diarrhoea. On the initiative of the aufseherka from the kitchen and with the [female] doctor’s support, we were no longer fed parsnips. The front was drawing nearer and there was talk of evacuation. It was March. At that time 1,500 women were sent away from the camp; as it turned out, they had been deported to Leipzig. As there were no raw materials and no shipments

19 could be made because of political developments, work ground to a halt in the factory. You could sense the camp falling into chaos. There was no rigour, no discipline. Neither the lady commandant or the Lagerführer paid any especial attention; they were already thinking about how to save themselves. They were preparing for the arrival of the Russians, sending their baggage on to safe places. The [male] commandant destroyed all potentially compromising documents, removed all SS insignia from his things, such as cases, chests, and the like. He ordered that a civilian suit be made for him. I was the one who made it. There were non-stop alarms; they were our sole consolation. The Germans got scared and took shelter wherever they could, but for us it was fun. The aufseherkas’ attitude towards us showed an improvement. They would chat with us about political matters; all of a sudden, everyone was coming out against . Some women travelled to Ravensbrück for food supplies. They returned with the news that the camp was being evacuated. The next day, Polish and French women drove up via the road that ran adjacent to the camp and shouted to us that they were heading for an internment camp. A few days later, there appeared white Red Cross trucks from Geneva and Sweden. They halted on the road by the forest, because there were constant air raids; they were taking cover. The commandant of the Red Cross expedition spoke with the Lagerführer. After the conversation, the agitated Lagerführer ordered that a list of the Polish women be drawn up immediately: Aryans and Jews. We left at dawn. We could see we were going to our freedom, because the aufseherkas ordered that badges and numbers be torn off. We were ordered to take off our prison stripes, which were exchanged for civilian dresses. The Lagerführer didn’t tell us to take any other baggage, or rather any food, as where we were going, he said, our dinner, with fresh butter, would be better than his. We were the first transport. Those remaining in the camp, however, reckoned we were going to our deaths. In the camp remained the French, Hungarian, Czech, and German women. On 26 April 1945, we left on trucks for Denmark via Lübeck.

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We were bombarded en route; on several occasions we got out in the dark of night and took cover in ditches. Fortunately, there weren’t any casualties. Our transport was escorted by an SS officer all the way to the Swedish border. On 28 April 1945, we arrived in Malmö. Cecylia Skorecka

The witness has tried to relay accurate information that is as precise as possible. The testimony is absolutely trustworthy. Institute Assistant Luba Melchior