12 Monowitz (Auschwitz III)

Chaim’s group left Birkenau one morning in early September 1943. Marching under guard, the men wore striped clothing, their heads shaven under a cap and a number tattooed on their arms. They walked down a country road. On either side lay the rubble of village homes with damaged large household items visible, as if the occupants had left in a hurry. Fields stretched off the narrow road. After about six kilometres, at an intersection marked by a low round concrete structure, they turned right and continued walking on a narrower road. They entered a smaller camp with features similar to the one they had just left, with double layer electric barbed-wire fences, warning signs and watchtowers. Along the road there were several red brick buildings and further ahead a concrete building with a thick wall that looked like an armoury. People in striped clothing paused to watch them as they walked by.

Wooden barracks of various sizes, with large numbers or signs identifying their purpose, stood on either side of a main road that ended in a roundabout. Near the long structures were shorter ones marked as washrooms and square ones identified as latrines. There was an infirmary complex made up of a few connected buildings and a kitchen that faced a large roll-call square. Better-equipped barracks were set aside for the camp’s privileged prisoners.

The group arrived at the roll-call square and stood at attention. A German-speaking Kapo wearing striped clothing and an armband read their numbers and asked for their occupations and any skills they had acquired in Eberswalde. He proceeded to assign them each an ID number and divided them into work groups.¹ Chaim was assigned to Kommando 77 along with his close band of friends. They then followed a block elder to barrack 22, which had an interior arrangement like the one in Birkenau, with three-level wooden bunk beds on either side of a main passageway.² After assigning a spot for each in a bunk section, the Kapo explained the camp’s routines and told them to get ready for tomorrow’s workday.

The 203 men were brought from Eberswalde to labour in one of Germany’s biggest wartime corporate undertakings: the construction of a plant for IG Farben, Europe’s largest chemical company.³ Founded in 1925 with the merger of six companies, IG Farben grow to be among the world’s leading consortia in pharmaceuticals and chemical products.⁴ One of its subsidiaries, Degesch, produced Zyklon B, the material used for killing in the gas chambers.⁵ In mid-1942 the company set its sight on the Auschwitz area for production of two synthetic products: fuel (methanol) and rubber, which were in high demand during the war. IG Farben was lured to the region by its level flood-free terrain, an ample supply of nearby raw materials, its convenient rail connections and generous government financial support. In preparation for the plant’s construction, the inhabitants of the village of Monowice (Monowitz in German) were evicted and their homes levelled.⁶

Building a sprawling four-square-kilometre plant required a massive number of labourers, which the SS head Heinrich Himmler committed to supply. To house the men, Monowitz (Auschwitz III), a labour camp, was built and inaugurated in October 1942. It became known as Buna after the synthetic rubber produced. The first of tens of thousands of forced labourers made to work there were prisoners of war. They were soon joined by others, most of them Jews from many nations, including from Holland, Belgium, Greece and Italy, who were housed according to their nationalities.⁷ It was a labour camp whose construction and operation were financed entirely by a private enterprise. The SS charged IG Farben a fee of four to six Reichmarks each for unskilled and skilled labourer, respectively, including children.⁸ Other companies soon followed, and additional camps were built in the area for them to employ and house their workers, mostly prisoners of war.

Overseeing Monowitz’s tens of thousands of forced labourers and respecting their manpower obligation to IG Farben and its schedule demanded meticulous organization and brutal discipline. To profit, the SS made prisoners live on the edge of life and gave them the bare minimum of food and amenities needed to perform a day’s work. As at Kreuzsee Bei Reppen, the Nazis’ guiding mindset and attitude was that they were dealing with subhumans who could easily be replaced if they perished.

Chaim’s day started at 4:30 a.m. (5:30 in winter) with a wake-up siren. Supervised by the block’s elder, an hour was allotted to personal hygiene, a hard task given the poor conditions. Some skipped the washup altogether, preferring to get an extra hour of rest before work. Entering a washroom, Chaim often saw a person who had taken his life by hanging. After a while, he became apathetic and inured to this. Others met their end by throwing themselves on the perimeter electric barbed-wire fence. Along with thousands of prisoners, Chaim used one of six pit latrine structures that had no flushing system and that often became a source of epidemics, claiming the lives of many. Five additional washroom structures each had a long washbasin with undrinkable, smelly water. He shaved with one of the few shared razors, which sharing contributed to the transmission of skin infections.⁹

The beds had to be made and the barracks cleaned before the first meal of the day: a cup of unsweetened coffee substitute that often had to be consumed outdoors. Roll call in the camp’s square followed. Standing in rows according to their block’s number, every person had to be accounted for, including those who had died overnight. Often, one of the SS officers would conduct a mass morning exercise by repeatedly yelling Miten! (Cap!), an order to put their hands on their head. When prisoners got caught attempting to escape, the others were made to witness their public execution by hanging as a deterrent.

The march to their workplace began with those in the furthest job site departing first. Standing on a platform near the gate, a band played for the exiting prisoners. The gate was also a place where SS officers stood to spot weak prisoners whose usefulness had ended, pulling them out of the row and sending them by truck to their death at Birkenau. Arriving at the work site, each Kommando, which numbered between fifty to a hundred workers organized according to its members’ skills, began their work.

It was an immense place made up of mixed industrial buildings of various types and sizes, most with smokestacks. There were modern-looking four-storey white brick buildings with large windows which were used as laboratories. There were also wide and long structures where military components and ammunition were fabricated. Some low-rise red brick buildings were constructed for use by the site administrators or as storage depots. Large pipes carrying steam, water and fuel ran on an elevated steel structure between the buildings and connected to them.

Unskilled people like Chaim’s group, a mix of Poles, most of whom were political prisoners or army officers, and Jews, performed general tasks. The work included breaking down poorly poured concrete with large hammers, levelling the ground, lifting building materials through scaffolding, digging ditches, laying electric cables and unloading delivery trucks. Given the meagre food and poor working and living conditions, productivity was very low. Supplying the labourers with rudimentary protective gear or mechanical tools was out of the question. Subject to a demanding schedule, the work had to be performed in all weather conditions throughout the winter, even if snow had to be cleared before the work itself began.

At noon there was an hour-long meal break. Each prisoner received a watery meatless soup with parsnips and potatoes, known as “Buna Soup,” which was brought to the site in big vats. Since the tap water was impossible to drink, the soup was the prisoners’ main source of liquid. When the camp was overcrowded, two prisoners had to share a cup. Spoons were not issued, so Chaim had to buy one on the black market for a half ration of bread. Prisoners used the top half of the spoon as a knife.¹⁰

The work was conducted under the watchful eye of a Kapo wearing an armband, who was often a German with anti-Semitic sentiments. He wielded great power and could make the life of his Kommando tolerable or unbearable, if he wanted to. During his time in Monowitz, Chaim had good and bad Kapos. One educated German Jew was kind and let them rest after a gruelling task, while another Kapo, wanting to please the SS, resorted to beatings. Survival depended on the men’s ability to trade with the Polish civilians who worked alongside them, which could only take place during work time. It was the Kapo who, if he wanted to, could turn a blind eye and let someone go, or refuse to and harshly punish a person who had left without permission. The prisoners were also subjected to sudden inspection and counting by the SS, during which time they all had to be present or otherwise they all were punished.¹¹

Chaim’s workday ended at 6 p.m. (at 5 in winter). Carrying with them dead or injured prisoners, they stood in rows, were counted and marched back toward their barracks. They paused at the gate where the band played while the Kapo reported the work accomplished and the head count. Then, there was a roll call for all the camp’s prisoners that lasted an hour. Each person’s number was read aloud. At times, shivering in winter, they were made to stand at attention for hours as punishment.

After the evening roll call, they were let go to the barracks where they ate the main meal of the day, which also had to do for the next day’s breakfast. This consisted of a soup like the one they had eaten earlier, served with a fist-sized portion of bread and a spoonful of margarine. Chaim craved a spot close to the back of the line since the soup at the bottom of the vat contained more substance. Fearing theft, Chaim often debated whether to eat the bread right way or in the morning. The daily meals provided between eight hundred to fifteen hundred calories, or about half of what was needed to sustain a hard-working man.¹² New arrivals to the camp, especially those from countries with warmer weather who were not accustomed to the Polish winter or who failed to get extra food, perished within weeks.

After dinner, Chaim would mend his clothing, trade items or talk to his friends until 9:30 p.m. (9 in winter), when a siren signalled bedtime and the lights were turned off. Six to eight people shared each bunk bed section, sleeping head to foot with shoes under their heads for fear of theft. They lay on straw mattresses covered with thin blankets barely sufficient to withstand winter’s freezing nights in the poorly heated barracks. The uninsulated barrack walls there were made up of a single layer of bricks with cracks in between and did not offer a reprieve from the blowing winter winds. The roof was not insulated either, and openings were visible at the meeting points between the roof and the walls. It was a hardly a restful sleep and turning over in bed had to be done in unison. Going to the latrine was very difficult. Sunday was designated for rest, but even this pause was taken away at times. For their entertainment, the camp guards organized boxing matches on a specially constructed ring. Antoni Czortek, one of Poland’s renowned champions, who had participated in the 1936 Berlin Olympics, fought with boxers from other nations. The winning prize was lighter duty or a loaf of bread.

Chaim survived Monowitz by using the experience, skills and intuition that he brought from home and those he had gained since the start of the war. He was frequently reminded of what he had witnessed in Birkenau: that a factory of death existed next door and that there was no mercy to those who fell behind. Seeing people lose interest in their surroundings and rapidly spiral to their end was a daily occurrence and a call not to be among them. His Kreuzsee Bei Reppen experience taught him that suicidal thoughts needed to be avoided at all costs. By using his initiative and wit, bad situations could be overcome. He knew that letting his guard down, becoming indifferent to what was going on around him and failing to make vital decisions, was a first step in a descent to Muselmann status and death.

Chaim focused on supplementing the very small number of calories provided by the food he got. He employed his excellent trading skills and actively participated in the camp “economy”. Working alongside civilians, he always had something to offer and knew how to spot a “safe” person with whom to deal. Any hard currency he had or cigarettes he was able to solicit at work and to resist smoking were exchanged for bread.

Attending to his personal hygiene, especially in wintertime, was also a priority. In the mornings and at the end of days he resorted to his self-discipline to keep clean. He told himself that, in a place where life and death selection was made mostly by brief visual inspection, one needed to look his best. The water was undrinkable yet still could be used for a wash. After wetting his finger, by dipping it in sand it became his toothbrush. On winter mornings he rubbed his face with snow to freshen up and ready himself for the day. He also knew that, given the few calories he received, he must keep warm. He did this by trading valuables or food for warmer clothing. He improvised by turning an empty cement paper bag, with top and sides cut, into an undergarment. He paid special attention to his feet, knowing that a small sore could rapidly get infected. Unlike those who walked in wooden clogs, he had real shoes, which he closely guarded. At the end of each workday, he washed his feet and, in the morning, he carefully wrapped them with paper or, if lucky, a cloth or even a pair of socks he had traded for.

Unlike others who attempted to gain days of rest by visiting the infirmary, Chaim avoided it. When the place was full it was subject to unannounced inspections and selection by the SS doctor. Prisoners who were judged to be too weak or ill were loaded onto a wagon and taken to their death in the gas chambers or by lethal injection. It was also a location for medical experiments on convalescing prisoners that ended in extreme pain or death.

His outgoing personality, command of German and quick language skills came in handy in a place where people from many nations were imprisoned. Relying on his band of friends and working as a team was also essential. They watched each other’s back and, when more food was obtained, it was shared. They warned a colleague about a Kapo to avoid or a selection process, and they acted as lookouts for each other when trading during work time. When one started to lose hope, they came to his aid, telling him that tomorrow was another day worth living for and that the end of their ordeal was near.

Against all odds, Chaim survived sixteen months in Monowitz. Life skills were vital to his long survival despite the unimaginably horrible conditions, but luck also played a role. Each day could have been his last. He was fortunate not to be caught or punished, to find extra food, and not to be injured at work. It was the kind of luck that many did not have.