Auschwitz Survivor Memorializes Her Holocaust Experiences
The Zicherman family had seven children. Only three sisters survived the war. My father was Chaim Ber, and my mother was Chaya. Their children were – Shaindel, Gittel, Chana, Mendel, Elky, Blima, and Binyomin. We were a happy family that lived on a little hill called Chernopotek in the Karpoten section of Czechoslavakia, which was occupied by ten families.
In the year 1944 the day after the Yom Tov of Pesach, the long and miserable years began. I was by my grandparents for the last days of Yom Tov, who lived in a nearby town called Rustika. Every so often my father would travel to a big town nearby called Aurshava on his bike to take care of things that our family needed. On the day after Pesach, while I was still by my grandparents; my father left our town and went to Aurshava ,not knowing about the Nazi activity in the area. The Nazis came to Aurshava and rounded up all the people within a few blocks. My father was among them. He had a feeling it was not a good situation and wanted desperately to go help his family which he left home alone. There was a lake nearby, and he thought if he would be able to swim across the lake he would be within walking distance of his town. He headed towards the lake and began to swim ,but was caught. The Nazi dragged him back and made sure he stayed put. He was there for two days without his family. Two days later the town of Rustika was rounded up and my grandparents and I were all brought to Aurshiva. There I was alone with my grandparents not knowing what happened to the rest of my family. After a few hours later I met my father in town by chance. From Aurshova all the people were put on wagons and taken to the big city of Munkacs. There, all the towns were gathered. By mazel our whole family found each other and was together again, but not for long. In Munkacs there was a big company owned by Jewish people which was over taken by the Germans. The company had lots of property and many buildings were contained within. All the people were placed there to stay. The Germans made a fence around a small area of Muncaks which became known as the Muncaks Ghetto. The ghetto was divided into sections. Each section had a manager that was Jewish who was appointed by the Germans. My father was in charge of the area where we stayed.
Everyday we saw more and more people shoved into cattle wagons that were driven to an unknown place. The time soon came for my family to be taken to that dreaded place. We travelled in these closed cattle wagons for three long days with no food, bathroom or fresh air. After travelling for what seemed an eternity the heavy doors finally opened. All of us were now sick as a result of lacking basic necessities. We now realized we were in the dreaded area of Auschwitz. Soon after our arrival Nazi SS soldiers came and dragged us off the wagon and sent us to one three lines that were being formed. One line was for the mothers with children, sick people, and people who weren’t of any benefit to the Nazis. They ended up being sent to the gas chambers. The next two lines formed consisted of men and women that would remain alive to be slaves for the Nazis. My brother Binyomin, who was the youngest, was sent with my mother and the other younger children to the line that was headed to a totally different place than the other two lines. My two older sisters and I were sent to the line of the women, and my father was sent alone to the line with all the men. My father saw his three girls and yelled to us that we should all stay together. We saw him from a distance and began to cry. My father reached into his pocked and threw us a bag of candy, which never reached us. The Nazis got it and took it away.
Our line continued to move towards a large building. There the Nazis shaved off our hair and took away our clothing in exchange for grey dresses which had the yellow star of David sewn on it. The only thing left of our own belongings were our shoes, because it was to expensive for the Germans to supply shoes for everyone. The barracks in Auschwitz could only contain five girls. Even so eight girls slept in one barrack. Our first meal was finally brought to us once we entered our “temporary home”. It included one slice of black moldy bread which could practically break one’s teeth while trying to eat it. Everyday was routine; we had to line up in order to be counted. If someone moved their hand or turned their head a German was there at their side already beating them. Dr. Mengela came every few days to Auschwitz, to see how the Germans were treating us. Seeing that the Germans were doing their job as he wished – by treating us as animals – he organized parades with music, making us feel more hatred towards them.
After two long weeks of misery we were transferred to the concentration camp of Shtulhoff. This time we did not travel by wagon. They made us walk by foot. By doing so the Germans were able to make us suffer even more, since the ground consisted of sand which was overheated by the sun. This made it very difficult for us to walk. Most of us ended up with terrible burns on our feet. The most severe cases were sent to the crematoriums since the Germans had no use for them.
The merciless Germans pointed at the smoke coming from the crematoriums and told us, “you see that smoke, that’s your family, friends, brothers and sisters. You too will end up there one day, but now we want you to work for us.” SS men dressed in black stood all around us with guns, as we worked. In this camp we were given forced physical labor ; we were instructed to dig bunkers for ourselves. After a few weeks, if one was not emotionally and physically fit, he did not survive.
Lucky for me, us three sisters always stayed together and when one wasn’t able to do their work, one of the other two did it for her. We always dreamed of our father, recalling his last words, that we should always stay together. Living by this advise enabled us to stay alive. From the time we left Auschwitz till now, only two hundred girls remained alive, from a group that in the begining consisted of two thousand girls. When winter came around we were all forced to sleep outside. The winter was very cold, and many girls’ feet began to freeze. Lucky for me, I had a pair of wooden shoes given to me by the Germans, because my other ones were unwearable. Those who weren’t as fortunate as I, their feet froze. Amongst them my sister Shaindel. The Germans made us walk miles in the snow, which was knee deep. Ahead of me were three sisters walking together. The sick one was in the middle supported by her two sisters. They obviously were walking slower than everyone else, since the middle sister couldn’t keep up. The head Nazi officer walked over to them and told the two healthy sisters to keep walking and leave their weaker sister behind or they would be killed. Ignoring his warning, the three of them were shot dead in front of my eyes. Tears filled up in my eyes as I thought of my own sick sister Shaindel, and the help my sister and I were giving her. I feared that the cruel Nazi would do the same to us. The same Nazi that killed the three pitiful sisters came over to me and asked, “Why are you crying?” I answered sorrowfully that I feared of what might happen to us, since we were in the same situation as the other three sisters. He reassured me and took my sister Sheindel, to the back of the line. She was put onto a wagon carrying ammunition for the Nazis, so she would not have to walk. At this point the Russians were already close by and therefore the Germans kept pushing us further and further away, for fear that we might be rescued by the Russians. At every gunshot Gittel and I worried that it was directed at our older sister Sheindel, who was taken to be “helped” by the Nazi. To our surprise this known murderer spared the life of our sister, and when she recuperated, she rejoined us back in the line.
As the month of March approached, we arrived in Dansik, Poland, a new German airport. The hundred fifty girls left, were made to run errands for the Nazis. We were all by now no more than bones and many of us fell like flies without much hope for the future. The last vision of our father and his words that we should stick together enabled us to cope through all the hardships.
We were forced to evacuate the warehouse, our “home”, and the Germans bombed the building to destroy all evidence of their cruelty. We were shoved to another place, and by now we were all infected with typhus. Knowing their end was near, the Germans ran away leaving us to die. The next day the Russians came and freed us. They found us all lying on the ground in desperate need of help. Food and medical aid was brought in and we were all taken to a safe haven to recover.
Purim arrived, and by then us three sisters were feeling better. We wanted to return home, expecting to find the rest of our family there. Our group traveled together hoping to reunite ourselves with our beloved families. On our way, my sisters and I, met a young boy, around thirteen years old, who reminded us of our younger brother Mendel. We took him along with us and tried to raise him as our younger brother. Some time later we found him a better place to stay, with a man who was willing to accept him as a son.
We finally returned to our hometown. After finding it desolate, we began our search. In a nearby town, we were lucky to find two cousins. They ended up helping us get to America. A year before we left, my two sisters Sheindel and Gittel got married. Both weddings took place on the same day. Every Jew that survived was invited to the weddings. A young man approached us at the wedding that knew our background, and began to tell us about his life in the concentration camps. He told us how our father was with him in the camps and how he treated him like his own son. Because of his love the young man was able to survive. He also let us know that our father passed away on Rosh Chodesh Nissan due to an infection in his leg, and that he did not fall into the hands of the Nazis. We were therefore able to observe his Yortzeit from that year on.
I arrived in America with two sisters and two brothers-in-law. Sometime later I got married to Pinchos Zicherman, my first cousin once removed. We soon began to raise a family of our own. I now have two daughters raising religious families.
Even though recounting these memories and reliving the tortures I went through was hard for me, I still feel it was important to do. This way future generations will hear and know first hand about the horrors our people went through and learn to appreciate what they have today.
By Survivor Chana Zichernan