Eva Pytelová roz. Beerová

“The old synagogue was placed in between residential buildings in the ghetto and was defunct. Back in the day, it served as a warehouse of sorts. The new synagogue was very beautiful and was placed at an isolated place. Around it were trees – linden and maple. It really was a gorgeous building, which got destroyed in 1941 or ’42, I don’t know precisely. It was burnt down. Our residence was close to the synagogue and I recall that night very well because we were woken out by shouting and the sound of broken glass as it caught fire. It was a huge fire. It was a terrible tragedy and for me, an unforgettable experience.”

“It was a misty, rainy weather. It was March 1939. And it was big news which we learnt from our headmaster. I recall that great panic had taken place and that we got sent home from school immediately. We had no idea what would come next. In 1939, I was fourteen years old, was about to finish elementary school and could not imagine what it all meant, and what were the consequences. By that time, we already knew Adolf Hitler was a global threat from his incredible speeches transmitted on the radio. His way of politics was unbelievable. Nobody could have imagined what was to follow. Shortly after occupation, it was hard times for us Jews because Hitler’s laws limited us in our lives. First, important people who had a social standing or had something to do with politics got locked up. Predominantly for being Jews, and especially very rich Jews. They were the first to be dragged away and ended up in concentration camps.”

“That was another shock. She changed beyond recognition. She was terribly swollen because she contracted tuberculosis. She had hardly spoken at all. And the doctor left me there with her, telling me to go visit her and explaining that there was no way to save her. But he was able to get me moved to her place or her to my place so that we could see each other. And so that happened – I moved to hers. Every day, I visited her. But I was myself in a terrible state, both mentally and physically. I recall that once I laid on a bed after lunch, taking a nap. My sister came over in a dream and told me that the doctor was saying it was about time. And so I got to her bed. She recognized me and told me she was going to see mum. And that was it…”

“Fortunately, Auschwitz wasn’t the terminal station. In July 1944, we got out of this hell. We left to Christianstadt in Germany, where we worked in a munitions factory and in a sand mine. I worked in the mine. My task was to carry the sacks with sand and to load them on the cars that took them to some construction site. But in the winter, we had to work in the factory as well. We worked in three shifts. I remember a very cold winter day when we marched to our shift and it was freezing. We were very badly dressed. This “idyll” came to an end in February 1945 when the Soviet armies approached the camp. We had to leave the camp. We set out on a ‘death march’ that lasted six days. It’s very hard to describe what happened on that death march. A lot of people managed to run away, but a lot of them also died during the march. People who were too exhausted to carry on were simply shot by the German guards. We walked for about 20 to 25 kilometers per day and in the evening our guards would accommodate us in a farm or even in the open. Sometimes we even got a few potatoes and some soup, depending on what they were willing to do for us. We walked and walked for six days until we ended up at the Czech frontier near Carlsbad, where they loaded us into cars and hauled us in the direction of Bergen-Belsen, a huge concentration camp in Germany.”

“In fact, Theressienstadt was a wonderful time for me because it was here where I met my first great love. His name was Jiří Schulz and we were seeing each other daily after work. These were beautiful moments as we could go for long walks on the Theressienstadt bastions. It was very emotional and we were planning our future. We also had a lot of good and interesting friends as Jiří lived in a youth dormitory where a lot of young people lived. There was also a very vivid cultural live in Theressienstadt as a large part of the cultural elite of Europe was concentrated in this camp. Unfortunately these wonderful moments weren’t going to last for long as our transport to Auschwitz was due in May 1944. Goodbye was very hard, but ultimately, there was a happy ending as we reunited again after the war. We probably weren’t meant to be together as Jiří left again in 1947, this time on a scholarship to the USA. He got that scholarship from the Jewish organization ‘Joint’. The scholarship was for two years and he was supposed to come back after those two years. But then came 1948 and Jirka didn’t come back to Czechoslovakia anymore. He was very successful at Yale University and a Nobel price candidate, but he died in January 1946 (Eva is mistaken here, she had 1976 in mind, see for example: utf.mff.cuni.cz/librtfy/papers/0000106/horacek073.pdf a http://www.aip.org/history/acap/biographies/bio.jsp?schulzg, note by the author) from a stroke.”

“Another unforgettable moment was when we arrived in Auschwitz. After three days of terrible suffering, we had to leave the cattle cars immediately. The cattle cars were so packed with the occupants, that there was no room to sit or stand comfortably. When we were jumping out of the cars, the German soldiers yelled at us: ‘Raus, raus, alles raus’. This was effectively accompanied by the barking of their dogs. When we left the cars, they hurled us into the barracks. These living quarters were so crowded, there was no space left for oneself. We had to hand over our entire luggage, so there was nothing left of our belongings. The only thing I was able to save from them was my ring. Then we had to go to the showers and afterwards, we were handed some clothes. It was a farce as they were pulling it out of big bags and by coincidence, me, my mom and my sister got the same style, black evening robes. Then they tattooed us. I don’t remember exactly anymore, where this took place, but I know that it was somewhere outdoors, in the public. We were waiting for our tattoo in long queues. In the meantime, we were approached by other camp inmates who had arrived in the camp before us. We were meeting friends and acquaintances that we got to know in previous camps. These reunions were happy and sad at the same time. But when they found out that we signed up for the Auschwitz transport voluntarily because we wanted to stay with our mom who had been put on the transport, they were puzzled. They wouldn’t believe us. They already knew what was waiting for us in Auschwitz.”

“I was a member of a Jewish organization that united young Jews. The name of that organization is Maccabi Hacair. We met in a clubhouse and debated Jewish history and the building of a Jewish state – Israel. We were learning about different Jewish personalities and about their lives. We also organized various outdoor activities, went for hikes into the forests surrounding the city, played games, sat around bonfires and sung Hebrew songs. We also danced the Hora dance and met our friends from nearby Kroměříž. This friendship lasted even in later times, when we weren’t allowed to go farther than ten kilometers outside of the perimeter of the city. We were seeing each other at the point of contact. They came out ten kilometers from Kroměříž and we came out ten kilometers from Holešov. These were beautiful moments I like to remember.”

“For us, the war was over on April 25, 1945, when the English soldiers arrived in the camp. Except for their uniforms, these men had gloves and masks on their faces and a cord with scissors on it around their neck. We didn’t understand what the scissors were for but we were soon to find out. They were absolutely shocked from what they saw and they demanded if someone spoke English. Because I spoke a bit English I got into a conversation with them and the sort of questions they posed amazed me. They asked me, for example: ‘what kind of cultural activity do you have here? Where do you go to the cinema? Where are the showers?’ I took them into the barracks and showed them the piles of emaciated poor souls lying on the ground. My mother and sister were among those poor things. Eventually, we agreed that I would produce a list of those most miserable and in direst need of help. My mother and sister were the first ones I ordered to be taken away for treatment and then I was inspecting the others. They were all calling to me: ‘I’m so sick, I’m so sick, I’m dying’. So it wasn’t easy at all because virtually everybody there was very sick. We didn’t know exactly where they were taking us but then we found out what the scissors were for. They simply cut our clothes from neck to toe, wrapped us up in sheets, loaded us into cars and took us to hospitals.”