The Horse Adjutant anything to do that would give us a chance for survival. I saw Birkenau fade into the distance, its crematoria chimneys bellowing vile smoke. Surrounded by my fellow prisoners, we all vowed never to return; it was more like hope than a vow. After the war, I did go back once more, partly to make sure it was destroyed, and partly to ensure I remembered everyone that was now gone forever. I paid them homage with a prayer. During my 4-month stay in Birkenau, at least 100,000 people were murdered by deadly gas and then turned to dust in 1 of 6 crematoria, while another similar, but smaller number, died nearby in the original camp Auschwitz I. Under this smoke- screen of mass murder, atrocities like that of Bloody Mietek pale in comparison. I had to stop thinking about it as the I.G. Farben Buna-Monowitz Chemical plant, otherwise known as Auschwitz III, came into view. I stopped daydreaming and cleared my mind in preparation for who-knows-what. Surviving Birkenau was the most difficult thing I ever did. I still had a long way to go before I would taste free - dom. When we arrived, an SS Striben officer was waiting with our records. We got out of the trucks and fell into formation. We were counted by his assistant, a young boy wearing a blue and white uniform. The boy reported 98 men and 2 Jungen. The Striben officer noted a complete shipment of 100 hâftlinge. When he was done, we walked directly to the quarantine center, where we removed our old clothing, took a shower, and received a tight haircut, the tighter, the better. Since hair was the main carrier of human lice, and lice brought diseases such as typhus, it was best to cut the hair as close as possible. While getting cleaned up, I thought about what Wiktor said, “Don’t get sick and don’t come back. I won’t be able to help you.” I scrubbed extra hard. It was a long time since I had a shower. The warm water felt great. Once I was clean, I went to the clothing station and was carefully measured to achieve a good fit. I was issued two sets of clothing: one for the Summer, and one for the Winter. I guess they were planning to keep us around for a while. I was also given fresh underwear. This was an important part of proper hygiene. The suits were not fitted to me, but they did get close. The result was much better than the clothing I was wearing in Birkenau. After the right size was found, my tattoo num- ber was attached to the breast. The uniform was blue and white striped with a yellow star to signify my race. Last, I was issued a cap and shoes. Not wooden shoes, but real, black leather shoes that could bend with a normal step, and even a pair of woolen socks to go with them. After months of walking with wooden clogs, socks and shoes did much to lift my spirits.
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