Growing up the child of two Auschwitz survivors, I was only mildly aware of my mother’s and father’s Holocaust experiences. Mum was an incredibly positive person. She managed to survive and live a fulfilling life despite the pain and mental stress of Auschwitz-Birkenau. My mother didn’t allow her experience to impact my sister and myself, and we grew up unburdened by the tragic times she lived through.
Which is not to say she didn’t try to tell us what she’d been through. Mum would sometimes talk to us about her experiences in Auschwitz, where, over the course of three and a half years, she served at various times in prisoner functionary roles such as Stubenältesten (room leaders), Blockältesten (block leaders) and Lagerältesten (camp leaders). The stories she would tell were mainly about how she was able to help save many lives using her position, but after a while, we just didn’t listen and said, “That’s O.K., Mum.” She did not think we were interested, so she did not pursue it further.
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It was only later that I realized how much she wanted to tell her story—and how much of a difference that story could make.
Read more: How One Writer Uncovered the Lost Histories of 999 Women and Girls Who Were Sent to Auschwitz
After the war, the women who held functionary roles at Auschwitz were often perceived as Kapos, who were in charge of working labor groups within and outside the Auschwitz complex, notoriously known for their brutality and cruelty. And as one of the few survivors who were up close to the murderous, evil commanders and guards, my mother—who was anything but cruel—was often approached by historians, academics, teachers and writers. They wanted details and more information about what took place in the Auschwitz-Birknau concentration camp and the Nazis’ roles and actions within them.
After she passed away, I uncovered a box full of the letters and photocopies of her replies, in which she responded with detail. She told…
Source : time
