But German leaders found that such methods used up bullets and demoralized troops. They needed a more systematic killing plan. In early 1942, they drew up what they called “the Final Solution to the Jewish Question.” Jews would be deported from their hometowns by cattle cars and freight wagons to concentration camps like Auschwitz.
Ellis Lewin was a 12-year-old from Poland when he arrived at Auschwitz in 1944 with his parents and older sister Mariym and encountered what he described as a nightmare.
“The minute they opened the wagons it was just total, complete misery. Beatings and screamings and beatings and barking of dogs,” he later recalled. “We were holding on to each other and within minutes my mother and sister were dragged to one side and my dad and I were told to go to another side. I never had a chance to say goodbye to my mother. Never had a chance to say goodbye to my sister.”
Men, women, and teenagers strong enough to work would be selected for assignment to labor camps and factories near Auschwitz or to more distant ones. Young children, people with disabilities, the elderly, and anybody found too weak to work would be dispatched to gas chambers disguised as shower rooms where pellets of deadly cyanide gas would asphyxiate them. Bodies would be collected and turned to ashes in Auschwitz’s four crematoria, where ovens could burn 4,400 corpses a day.
The Germans also imprisoned and murdered Poles, homosexuals, Roma, and others they deemed “undesirable,” but Jews were the primary victims.
For those kept alive to work, life was cruel. They wore uniforms that looked like blue-striped pajamas and were pinned with identifying triangles—yellow for Jewish, brown for Roma, pink for homosexual. Meals consisted of an unappetizing vegetable soup and one slice of black bread with a spoon of margarine. Malnutrition led to emaciation and sickness.
Inmates were crowded into brick or wooden barracks and slept on thin, filthy straw mattresses in three-tiered bunk beds, sometimes several to a tier. Working 11 or more hours every day but Sunday, the prisoners were forced to build a synthetic-rubber plant, dig coal in nearby mines, and produce chemicals needed by the German military.
Yet many found the inner strength to go on. Primo Levi, a novelist who wrote a classic memoir about his survival at Auschwitz, recalled an inmate who admonished him for not washing, even if there was no soap and the water was dirty.
“Even in this place one can survive,” the prisoner told him, “and therefore one must want to survive, to tell the story, to bear witness.”