Filip Muller – Memoirs of Atrocities
Over the weekend I stumbled upon a goldmine of testimony by a Czech man who worked as a “Special Commando” in the gas chambers of Auschwitz for 2-3 years. I was absolutely glued to my computer for a couple of hours while I read and read through this stuff – it’s almost unbelievable… almost.
You can read a lot of his testimony on nizkor.org
http://www.nizkor.org/ftp.cgi/people/m/ftp.py?people/m/mueller.filip
Here are some excerpts that stuck with me particularly:
http://www.nizkor.org/ftp.cgi/people/m/ftp.py?people/m/mueller.filip/muller.001
Rottenfu”hrer Schlage, who all this time was standing in the doorway, now descended the steps with dignity. He received the block senior’s report and began to check the figures by stepping up to the left flank of prisoners who were lined up in perfectly straight rows and counting them. There was utter silence, broken only by the twitterings of the swallows darting back and forth above our heads.
Suddenly, accompanied by a wave of whispering, the lawyer pushed his way through the ranks and topped three paces in front of Schlage. Standing smartly to attention, he looked the SS man straight in the eye and declared with sincere indignation: ‘ Herr Kommandant, as a human being and a lawyer I wish to report that the block clerk’ – pointing at Vacek – ‘has arbitrarily killed several innocent people. Their corpses are laid out over there. I am convinced that the block clerk has killed these prisoners without the knowledge of either his immediate superiors or the authorities.’ We have been sent here to work and not to be killed. Monsignor Tiso, President of Slovakia, has himself vouched for our safety. I would therefore request you to have this morning’s events investigated and to see that the guilty are duly punished.’
When he had finished making his complaint, one could have heard a pin drop. Astounded at his courage and determination, the prisoners caught their breath and stared at Schlage. He, too, was so surprised by the unexpected conduct of this prisoner that for a time he stood rooted to the spot facing the lawyer. His neck and face grew livid with rage and agitation. The muscles in his face were twitching as he tried to speak. It took a few seconds before he was able to bawl:
‘Vacek, come here!’
‘At once, HerrRottenfuhrer!’ replied Vacek and stood to attention before his master.
‘Did you hear what this fucking Jew has been blathering about?’
‘I did, Herr Rottenfuhrer!’ Vacek replied eagerly.
‘Then give him what he deserves !’ ordered Schlage.
Vacek ran to pick up his truncheon from where he had left it and rushed up to the lawyer. He began to batter him with the truncheon and continued until finally the man dropped dead. Then he hurriedly dragged the body over to the heap of corpses in the corner. As the result of this morning’s sporting activities, thirty five bludgeoned bodies now lay in the yard of Block It. Schlage, who had observed Vacek’s action with satisfaction, now turned to us and asked cynically: ‘Anyone else want to make a complaint ?’
http://www.nizkor.org/ftp.cgi/people/m/ftp.py?people/m/mueller.filip/muller.010
Standing apart was a group of SS leaders who were obviously watching whether today’s method of making short work of the wretched victims would prove feasible. Even Obersturmfu”hrer Ho”ssler whom, for obvious reasons, we used to call ‘Moishe Liar’ stood apart and was not called upon to play his usual role. The effect of the Oberscharfuh”rer’s request on the people was the same as if they had been told that their lives were finally forfeited. At first sight it seemed that they were resigned to their fate. They began to undress, undressing also their children, and it was as though with every garment they were discarding a little of their lives, those lives which for most of them had, in any case, consisted of nothing but want and privation. Many were fighting back their tears, afraid that their children might be alarmed or start asking questions again. The children, too, were looking around sad-eyed. Quite soon they were all undressed. Husbands and wives embraced, caressing their children and trying to comfort each other. Disappointed with a world that had turned its back on them, they used their last few minutes to search their souls and think about their lives which, however wretched they might have been, still seemed more desirable than the death which now awaited them.
Suddenly from among the crowd a loud voice could be heard: an emaciated little man had begun to recite the Viddui. First he bent forward, then he lifted his head and his arms heavenward and after every sentence, spoken loud and clear, he struck his chest with his fist. Hebrew words echoed round the yard: ‘bogati’ (we have sinned), ‘gazalti’ (we have done wrong to our fellow men), ‘dibarti’ (we have slandered), ‘heevetJti’ (we have been deceitful), ‘verhirschati’ (we have sinned), ’sadti’ (we have been proud), ‘maradti’ (we have been disobedient). ‘My God, before ever I was created I signified nothing, and now that I am created I am as if I had not been created. I am dust in life, and how much more so in death. I will praise you everlastingly, Lord, God everlasting, Amen ! Amen!’ The crowd of 2,000 repeated every word, even though perhaps not all of them understood the meaning of this Old Testament confession. Up to that moment, most of them had managed to control themselves. But now almost everyone was weeping. There were heart-rending scenes among members of families. But their tears were not tears of despair. These people were in a state of deep religious emotion. They had put themselves in God’s hands. Strangely enough the SS men present did not intervene, but let the people be.
Meanwhile Oberscharfu”hrer Voss stood near by with his cronies, impatiently consulting his watch. The prayers had reached a climax: the crowd was reciting the prayer for the dead which traditionally is said only by surviving relatives for a member of the family who has died. But since after their death there would be nobody left to say the Kaddish for them they, the doomed, recited it while they were still alive. And then they walked into the gas chamber. Zyclon B crystals extinguished their lives while life in the camp and in the Sonderkommando went on as usual.
http://www.nizkor.org/ftp.cgi/people/m/ftp.py?people/m/mueller.filip/muller.015
It was obvious that the SS felt themselves once more to be masters of the situation. Quackernack and Schillinger were strutting back and forth in front of the humiliated crowd with a self-important swagger. Suddenly they stopped in their tracks, attracted by a strikingly handsome woman with blue-black hair who was taking off her right shoe. The woman, as soon as she noticed that the two men were ogling her, launched into what appeared to be a titillating and seductive strip-tease act. She lifted her skirt to allow a glimpse of thigh and suspender. Slowly she undid her stocking and peeled it off her foot. From out of the corner of her eye she carefully observed what was going on round her. The two SS men were fascinated by her performance and paid no attention to anything else. They were standing there with arms akimbo, their whips dangling from their wrists, and their eyes firmly glued on the woman.
She had taken off her blouse and was standing in front of her lecherous audience in her brassiere. Then she steadied herself against a concrete pillar with her left arm and bent down, slightly lifting her foot, in order to take off her shoe. What happened next took place with lightning speed: quick as a flash she grabbed her shoe and slammed its high heel violently against Quackernack’s forehead. He winced with pain and covered his face with both hands. At this moment the young woman flung herself at him and made a quick grab for his pistol. Then there was a shot. Schillinger cried out and fell to the ground. Seconds later there was a second shot aimed at Quackernack which narrowly missed him.
A panic broke out in the changing room. The young woman had disappeared in the crowd. Any moment she might appear somewhere else and aim her pistol at another of her executioners. The SS men realized this danger. One by one they crept outside. The wounded Schillinger was still Iying unattended on the floor.
After a while a few SS men came in and dragged him hastily to the door. Then a third shot was fired: one of the SS men pulling Schillinger let go of him and started to limp to the door as fast as he could. Then the light went out. Simultaneously the door was bolted from the outside. We, too, were now caught inside the pitch-dark room.
The people who had lost their bearings in the dark were running about in confusion. I, too, was afraid that this might be the end for all of us. Just now, I thought ruefully, when our plans for a rebellion were going ahead, and when we had a not inconsiderable hoard of arms and ammunition, why did it have to be just now ? I began to grope my way along the wall towards the exit. When I finally reached it I found nearly all of my companions, but also many of the others who instinctively had made for the door. They were weeping and bemoaning their fate, some were praying, others bidding each other farewell.
There was considerable speculation as to the identity of the woman who had fired the shots.
A man who was standing near us had noticed that we did not belong to their group. He spoke to us in the dark and wanted to know from where we came.
‘From the death factory,’ one of my companions replied tersely. The man was very agitated and demanded loudly: ‘I don’t understand what this is all about. After all, we have valid entry visas for Paraguay; and what’s more, we paid the Gestapo a great deal of money to get our exit permits. I handed over three diamonds worth at least 100,00 zloty; it was all I had left of my inheritance. And that young dancer, the one who fired the shots a little while ago, she had to pay a lot more.’
Suddenly the door was flung open. I was blinded by the glare of several searchlights. Then I heard Voss shouting: ‘All members of the Sonderkommando come out !’ Greatly relieved we dashed outside and ran up the stairs and into the yard. Outside the door to the changing room two machine-guns had been set up, and behind them several searchlights. Steel-helmeted SS men were Iying ready to operate the machine-guns. A horde of armed SS men were milling about in the yard.
I was on my way to the cremation room when a car drew up and Lagerkommandant Ho”ss climbed out. Then there was the rattle of machine-guns. A terrible blood-bath was wrought about the people caught in the changing room. A very few who had managed to hide behind pillars or in corners were later seized and shot. In the meantime, the ‘disinfecting officers’ had thrown their deadly Zyclon B gas down into the gas chamber where the credulous, placing their trust in Ho”ssler’s deceitful words, had gone less than an hour earlier.
