Stephen Shooster Just before he left for Hamburg, Moshe was worried about what would happen to him. The welder had the same concern and told the kapo, “When I leave for a short vacation I want Moshe to clean my tools and report to my station as if I am here. I will expect my tools to be perfectly clean when I return.” In this way, Moshe es- caped further hard labor. When the fellow came back from his trip, Moshe asked him, “How was Hamburg?” Forlornly he said, “Gone, all gone.” Moshe prodded, “What do you mean?” The welder said, “Bombed to the ground, nothing left. This is all I could bring back.” He took out two small rolls from his pocket and shared one with Moshe. Once Moshe and the welder were in a hole with a broken pipe trying to fix it. The job was messy but made for good friendship when working in unison. Moshe, by this time, felt comfortable enough to ask him a tough question. He said, “Fre- idlinger, are you a Nazi?” The response rang true even if it was not what Moshe wanted to hear, “There is nothing else but to be a Nazi.” The collective hopes of the prisoners started to rise. The Nazi defeat loomed more assuredly. We were especially elated when planes flew overhead with the desig - nation of the American Air force; they were bombing in the vicinity. In fact, it seemed like all the Allied forces were closing in at the same time. As the Americans bombed, the Russians were gathering at the Vistula River, and the long-awaited combined Allied Normandy invasion was finally, fully engaged and on the move; it was no secret. The change in the attitude of the guards within our camp was pal- pable. Air raid sirens sounded frequently interrupting whatever we were doing. The Nazis would go to their bomb shelters. Most of the time we would not know what to do with ourselves. There was no bomb shelter for hâftlinge. My biggest fear was my proximity to the ethanol. This was second only to the camp closing and being shipped back to Birkenau. Those large flammable tanks would be a prize target for the bombing. I worked close enough to them to be vaporized, yet, I would risk just about anything to avoid going back to Birkenau. For years, my greatest wish was for rescue, but even though it now appeared pos- sible, I could count on nothing. To protect the factory and its valuable materials, the Nazis did their best to conceal the buildings with camouflage. They did this by using barrels of liquid that would be set on fire to create smoke. The Nazi regime was collapsing in front of our eyes, and they knew it. Parts of the factory were pul- verized although we still went to work. When the air raids occurred, it was like a carpet of bombers. Like clockwork, they would arrive between Noon and 1 in the
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