The Librarian of Auschwitz(37)
“You ask some very strange questions.”
“Yes. Please forget that I asked.”
“I haven’t quite understood what you mean by being able to trust Hirsch. Trust in his competence as block chief?”
“Not exactly. What I wanted to ask was if you think he really is who he seems to be.”
After a moment’s reflection, the professor replies, “No, he isn’t.”
“He’s not who he appears to be?”
“No. Nor am I. Or you. Nobody is. God silenced our thoughts so that only we could hear them. No one else ought to know what we are really thinking. People get angry with me whenever I say what I think.”
“Indeed…”
“I think what you’re asking me is whom can you trust in this hole called Auschwitz?”
“That’s it!”
“I must confess that as far as trusting, or what is understood by trusting, is concerned, I personally trust only my best friend.”
“And who is your best friend?”
“Me. I am my best friend.”
Dita stares as he continues to smooth out the tip of his paper bird. She’s not going to get anything useful out of him.
*
When Dita reaches her hut, she lies down on the bunk. She hasn’t seen Mengele for a couple of days. But she mustn’t become overconfident; that man sees everything. She wonders if she could talk about Hirsch with Miriam Edelstein, the deputy director. But what if Miriam is his accomplice?
It’s all so confusing. She’ll try to talk to Mr. Tomá?ek. As Dita’s eyes start to close, an image pops into her head: She and Margit lie flat on the snowy ground, Renée looks on, and the three roar with laughter. As long as they keep on laughing, all is not lost.
11.
Toward the end of February 1944, a high-level German delegation visited Auschwitz–Birkenau. It was headed by Lieutenant-Colonel Adolf Eichmann, the Obersturmbannfürher in charge of the Gestapo’s Jewish Department from 1941 to 1945. Their mission was to pick up, in person, a report requested from the Block?ltester of Block 31, Fredy Hirsch, on the operation of this experimental barrack, the only one set aside for children in the entire network of Auschwitz camps.
Hirsch has instructed Lichtenstern to ensure that all the children, no matter what age, are lined up in a perfect state for inspection. Fredy demands good hygiene. The children get up every day at seven a.m., and the assistants take them to the washrooms. In February, morning temperatures can be as low as ?25° Celsius, and there are days when the pipes are frozen.
When Hirsch turns up midmorning, perfectly groomed and shaved, the lines for roll call have already formed. His manner is even more military than usual, a sure sign of his stress. There is the sound of whistles blowing and the thud of boots. A short while later, a couple of SS soldiers clear the way for a group of officials whose chests are overloaded with metal insignias and decorations.
Fredy Hirsch comes to attention with a martial click of his heels. After requesting permission to speak, he starts to describe the functioning of Block 31. It’s clear that Hirsch is comfortable speaking in his native German; he’s not a natural in Czech.
Major Rudolf H?ss and Eichmann lead the retinue, which includes other members of the SS, among them Schwarzhuber, the Kommandant responsible for Auschwitz–Birkenau. Dr. Mengele is farther back, a bit off to the side. As a captain, he’s much lower in rank than the lieutenant-colonels heading up the visit, and some might think he’s stepped back out of respect for the hierarchy. But Dita watches him and thinks his expression shows an indifference verging on boredom. And she’s right. He is bored by this procession of authorities.
Mengele suddenly looks up. He stares at Dita. She pretends she’s looking straight ahead, but she feels Mengele watching her. What does he want from her?
Eichmann nods, and his stern expression does not conceal his air of condescension. He’s making it clear that he’s doing Hirsch an enormous favor by hearing him out. Half a meter is as close as any of the officials will come to the Jewish Block?ltester. Even though he’s wearing a clean shirt and not-too-wrinkled pants, Hirsch looks like a peasant amidst the pressed uniforms and shiny boots. Dita looks at him and, despite all her reservations, she can’t help feeling enormous admiration. They may despise him, but they listen. Dita believes in him. She desperately needs to believe in him.
As soon as the delegation moves off, two assistants arrive with the midday soup for the hut, and the normal routine is reestablished. The dented bowls and twisted spoons are pulled out, and the children beg God to let them find at least one small piece of carrot. Once the meal is over, the hut gradually empties. Only a few teachers remain, huddled around the stools at the back and talking about the visit. They would like to know what Hirsch thinks, but he’s disappeared into thin air precisely to avoid such questions.
*
There’s a gala lunch in the officers’ dining room: tomato soup, chicken, potatoes, red cabbage, oven-baked fish, vanilla ice cream, and beer. The waitresses, prisoners, are Jehovah’s Witnesses. H?ss prefers them because they never complain. They believe that if this is God’s will, they have to comply with it cheerfully.
“Look,” he says to his colleagues, getting up from the table without bothering to remove the napkin tucked into his chest.
He signals to one of the waitresses to come forward and pulls out his Luger. He places the barrel against her temple. The other Nazi chiefs have stopped eating and watch expectantly. A hush falls over the dining room. The prisoner, unperturbed, stands stock-still, holding some dirty plates, not looking at the pistol or at the person pointing it. She’s not looking anywhere in particular as she prays inaudibly. No complaint, no protest, not even a look of fear.