Read The Commandant of Lubizec: A Novel of the Holocaust and Operation Reinhard Online
Authors: Patrick Hicks
Tags: #Historical
The Commandant of Lubizec: A Novel of the Holocaust and Operation Reinhard (21 page)
Large Metal Sign at Lubizec
:
WELCOME
In order to avoid sickness you must present your clothing and all belongings for disinfection. Gold, money (including
ALL
foreign currency), jewelry, and photographs should be given over for deposit. Cleanliness and truthfulness in this transit camp is everyone’s business!
Example of Train Schedule
:
From: Reich Railways, Department 33
P Kr 9021, (December 15, 1942), Lublin – Lubizec
| Destination | Arrival/Departure |
| Lublin | 09:37 |
| Zabia Wola | 10:02/10:28 |
| Osowa | 11:56/12:57 |
| Bychawa | 15:31/21:13 |
| Krasnik | 23:31/09:47 |
| Aleksandrówka | 10:52/06:45 |
| Lubizec | 08:00/(08:42) |
Train Composition: 1 engine, 15 cars
Camp Dimensions: Lubizec
:
A large upturned rectangle measuring 275 meters on the northern and southern boundaries with the eastern and western boundaries measuring 600 meters; the camp was bisected across the middle with a fence camouflaged by tree branches, thus separating Camp I and Camp II. Barbed-wire fencing (non-electrified) surrounded the entire grounds as did a “moat” of anti-personnel landmines commandeered from the defeated Polish army.
Four watchtowers, one at each corner of the camp, and two additional towers in the middle of the eastern and western boundaries respectively. Each tower had one guard armed with an MG 34 air-cooled 7.92 mm machine gun as well as a Sauer 38H semi-automatic pistol. Searchlights affixed to the towers were turned on at dusk. A seventh tower was in the middle of the camp and it overlooked the so-called
Himmelstraße
(Road to Heaven). The central tower had two guards armed with MG 34s. A radio played folk music from a loudspeaker.
Gas chambers were located in Camp II. It was the only brick building in Lubizec and it had four chambers that held 250 to 300 victims each. Carbon monoxide from a captured Soviet tank engine was installed on a concrete pad; fumes were fed into these chambers by way of steel piping. The more tightly packed in the victims, the more lethal the fumes. A generator attached to the engine supplied electricity to the entire camp.
Four burning pits were located on the northern end of Camp II. They measured 10 meters by 50 meters by 2 meters. Ash was sold to farmers as fertilizer.
Camp Personnel of Importance
:
Lubizec
:
SS Unterscharführer
Gustav Wagner
SS Unterscharführer
Michael Hustek
SS Unterscharführer
Kurt Hackenhold
SS Unterscharführer
Christian Schwartz
SS Unterscharführer
Sebastian Schemise
SS Unterscharführer
Rudolf Oberhauser
SS Unterscharführer
Peter “Birdie” Franz
SS Oberscharführer
Heinrich Niemann
SS Obersturmführer
Hans-Peter Guth (commandant after May 1942)
To:
SS Hauptsturmführer
Odilo Globocnik
From:
SS Obersturmführer
Hans-Peter Guth
Date: 28 November 1942
Dear Globus,
I write today in the hope of bringing a new matter to light about the special treatment rooms in Camp II of Lubizec. After a shipment arrives it can be processed at a fair rate of speed. It has come to my attention that further refinement of methods can yet be accomplished. I recommend all facilities have a lightbulb placed in the middle because when the doors are screwed shut and sudden darkness fills the facility this brings about panic. If a light were to remain on during the processing, the noise might be lessened.
Might I also recommend that all future facilities have larger drains installed in the floor? After processing, waste materials make cleanup a challenge and therefore a problem of time management. A larger drain and more powerful hoses will allow for faster cleaning. This means faster turnaround and an increase in production.
I look forward to having a meal with you in Lublin when we meet again.
Heil Hitler!
Hans-Peter Guth
Plunder
:
suitcases, purses, knives, scissors, watches, pencils, razors, hats, underwear, scarves, earrings, enamel pots, dice, belts, combs, necklaces, slide rulers, bracelets, wallets, lipstick, toothbrushes, raincoats, pendants, bibs, diapers, mallets, diplomas, kiddush cups, wedding announcements, cufflinks, ties, crutches, newspaper clippings, screwdrivers, tweezers, herbs, chess sets, apples, cigarettes, gin, antlers, drapes, pliers, boiled eggs, shtreimels, typewriters, tape measures, yarmulkes, stamps, monocles, evaporated milk, nylons, diaries, mezuzahs, coal, perfume, onions, fingernail clippers, records, shoehorns, prams, brassieres, marmalade, aspirin, sweaters, teacups, pacifiers, wooden toys, tefillins, identity cards, French francs, Polish zlotys, U.S. dollars, British pounds, Russian rubles, potatoes, flashlights, suspenders, sewing kits, jars of dirt, whiskey, diamonds, chocolate, fountain pens, copper wire, stale bread, syringes, fishing poles, salami, bologna, mascara, hammers, blotting paper, compasses, Star of David armbands, powder puffs, ice bags, tobacco boxes, cameras, hairpins, artist brushes, aprons, needles, mirrors, alarm clocks, bandages, sardines, house keys, vials of poison (used), thimbles, birth certificates, gloves, candles, skillets, violins, pillows, blankets, yarn, coins, flour, ink, canes, soap, seeds, pearls, oboes, turnips, corsets, socks, rings, marbles, pipes, rakes, furs, books, vests, maps, kettles, oats, dentures, dolls, photo albums, sugar, and love letters.
Number of eyeglasses: approx. 323,500
Artificial limbs: approx. 14,500 wooden legs and 57,000 leg braces
Total weight of clothes gathered at Lubizec: 8,875 tons
Total weight of hair gathered at Lubizec: unknown
Death count: 710,000 (estimated)
Survivors: 43
15
GAS AND BURNC
haim Zischer was one of the forty-three survivors. As a young boy growing up in Lublin he was unusually smart and enjoyed reading the Talmud. There was serious talk of him going to the Academy of Sages, and perhaps grander things waited for him in the future. He enjoyed strolling in the parks just south of town and he often leaned against an oak tree to admire the rise of the horizon or the green veins of a leaf. “Contemplative” was how his mother liked to describe him. He liked that word because it sounded grown-up and he imagined himself becoming a great thinker, perhaps becoming someone who lived in an empire of ideas and maybe, just maybe, people would come to him one day for advice. Maybe they would call him “wise.”
He met Nela when he was seventeen. It happened in a bakery when they were both reaching for the same
pączki
. It was a large crispy doughnut with raspberry filling and when their hands nearly touched beneath the glass they both laughed. He said it was hers, and she said it was his, and then they both reached for it again, which made them laugh even harder. She had bright hazelnut eyes and her smile filled up the whole bakery—it was like July sunshine. In the end he said “I’ll buy you the
pączki
” and she said “Let’s share it on a bench outside Maharam’s Synagogue.” So they walked down the jostling street and talked about the weather and how much they liked that particular bakery and of course within five minutes they found out they knew many of the same people.
“How strange we’ve never met before,” she said, coming to a green iron bench.
Chaim opened the wax paper and tore the gooey
pączki
in half. He offered the larger chunk to Nela and watched her lean forward to
bite it carefully. She covered her mouth with one hand and let out a little groan of happiness.
“Oh. So good. Oh, my goodness.”
A raspberry seed was stuck in her front teeth and this made Chaim laugh all the harder. The day was bright and warm and generous and it was so
good
to be alive, he thought.
An oboe played down the street and crowds bustled in a mighty flood of noise. The rush and burble of voices sounded like a river flowing over a rocky bed but he saw only her, he heard only her.
They were married a year later and he couldn’t believe she was standing under the wedding canopy with him, which acted as a symbol of the new house they were going to build together. She was in a modest white dress and there were so many people circled around them it felt like they were being crushed. Everyone was smiling and they kept on saying how it was an excellent match. And when he stomped on a wineglass wrapped in a linen towel everyone erupted into cheers.
Mazel tov! Mazel tov!
There was dancing and dancing and more dancing. Wine too. There was plenty of wine. And of course there was raspberry
pączki
for everyone.
A son was born sixteen months later and this pleased Zischer to the bone. He couldn’t have been happier. His boy, Jakob, came into the world on a cloudless winter night and Chaim paced the cobblestones below, smoking a pipe. He glanced up at the moon and wondered what was going on behind the locked door of the nursery. There was an awful lot of panting and screaming and grunting so he stayed outside with his father and his brothers. They talked about local politics as they walked up and down the snowy street, but his gaze kept creeping back to the candlelit window. The gas lamps around him flared like jailed ghosts. Snowflakes fluttered down.
When he was finally allowed inside, he took the steps two at a time. His son had bits of dried blood matted to his hair but Chaim didn’t care about this. He brought his son to his chest and kissed his pink new forehead. He silently asked God to give his son a long and healthy life. “May only goodness and beauty touch this child. May the world be gentle to him.”
When Chaim first heard about Nazism he thought it was a poison that rotted the mind and turned decent people into wolves. He also thought Germany would come to her senses and turn away from Adolf Hitler. The man was a crackpot. He was an evangelist of hate. Surely the Germans could see this?
Yes, he predicted, cooler heads would prevail. Just be patient. This Hitler has bitten the apple of power but people will soon turn away from him.
But when Poland was invaded in 1939, he knew Nazism was more than a passing political fad. It was something new and terrible. Tanks were soon chewing through wheatfields. They rumbled over low stone walls and swatted young trees to the ground. He watched columns of black-helmeted SS march into Lublin on September 18. They filed through Krakowska Gate and down the little cobblestone hill toward the castle. Their boots echoed off the medieval buildings in a terrifying stamping unison and he watched them march across the brick bridge into the castle where, an hour later, the flag of Poland was yanked down and a giant swastika was unfurled. It hung in the sky like a gash, and that’s when he knew his world was lost—that’s when he knew things would be different forever.