Night Read Online Free PDF Page A

“normal.” The barbed wire that encircled us like a wall did not fill us with real fear. In fact, we felt this was not a bad thing; we were entirely among ourselves. A 11
small Jewish republic…A Jewish Council was appointed, as well as a Jewish police force, a welfare agency, a labor committee, a health agency—a whole governmental apparatus. People thought this was a good thing. We would no longer have to look at all those hostile faces, endure those hate-filled stares. No more fear. No more anguish. We would live among Jews, among brothers… Of course, there still were unpleasant moments. Every day, the Germans came looking for men to load coal into the military trains. Volunteers for this kind of work were few. But apart from that, the atmosphere was oddly peaceful and reassuring. Most people thought that we would remain in the ghetto until the end of the war, until the arrival of the Red Army. Afterward everything would be as before. The ghetto was ruled by neither German nor Jew; it was ruled by delusion. SOME TWO WEEKS before Shavuot. A sunny spring day, people strolled seemingly carefree through the crowded streets. They exchanged cheerful greetings. Children played games, rolling hazelnuts on the sidewalks. Some schoolmates and I were in Ezra Malik's garden studying a Talmudic treatise. Night fell. Some twenty people had gathered in our courtyard. My father was sharing some anecdotes and holding forth on his opinion of the situation. He was a good storyteller. Suddenly, the gate opened, and Stern, a former shopkeeper who now was a policeman, entered and took my father aside. De- spite the growing darkness, I could see my father turn pale. “What's wrong?” we asked. “I don't know. I have been summoned to a special meeting of the Council. Something must have happened.” The story he had interrupted would remain unfinished. 12
“I'm going right now,” he said. “I'll return as soon as possible. I'll tell you everything. Wait for me.” We were ready to wait as long as necessary. The courtyard turned into something like an antechamber to an operating room. We stood, waiting for the door to open. Neighbors, hearing the ru- mors, had joined us. We stared at our watches. Time had slowed down. What was the meaning of such a long session? “I have a bad feeling,” said my mother. “This afternoon I saw new faces in the ghetto. Two German officers, I believe they were Gestapo. Since we've been here, we have not seen a single of- ficer…” It was close to midnight. Nobody felt like going to sleep, though some people briefly went to check on their homes. Others left but asked to be called as soon as my father returned. At last, the door opened and he appeared. His face was drained of color. He was quickly surrounded. “Tell us. Tell us what's happening! Say something…” At that moment, we were so anxious to hear something en- couraging, a few words telling us that there was nothing to worry about, that the meeting had been routine, just a review of welfare and health problems…But one glance at my father's face left no doubt. “The news is terrible,” he said at last. And then one word: “Transports.” The ghetto was to be liquidated entirely. Departures were to take place street by street, starting the next day. We wanted to know everything, every detail. We were stunned, yet we wanted to fully absorb the bitter news. “Where will they take us?” That was a secret. A secret for all, except one: the president of the Jewish Council. But he would not tell, or could not tell. The Gestapo had threatened to shoot him if he talked. 13
“There are rumors,” my father said, his voice breaking, “that we are being taken somewhere in Hungary to work in the brick factories. It seems that here, we are too close to the front…” After a moment's silence, he added: “Each of us will be allowed to bring his personal belong- ings. A backpack, some food, a few items of clothing. Nothing else.” Again, heavy