My presence and the brief incident with the nameless i***t had made a strong impression on the exhausted, run-down prisoners. I saw eyes sparkling with excitement, enthusiastic even, although I hadn’t done anything special, in my view. I then understood: in that artificial, oppressive environment, where prisoners were stripped of everything and had less individual rights than the stray dogs running around the electric fences, a mere defiant look, a word of protest can become a symbol for tens of thousands of hopeless people.
The soldiers led us to an imposing barrack where the Sonderkommando members were lodged, as they informed me. I had no idea what that meant, but it had to be some sort of punishment, at least it had sounded like that in the mouth of the one who had sent me here.
‘Iva
