We discovered that there was camp money in circulation - marks that could be changed. We would receive camp money for our first work commando which was the quarry for sure - a touch of the hardest labour to begin with!
The quarry was called "Steinbuck", and was on the southern side of the hill overlooking the forested undulations of Franconia and Bavaria - the nearest town being Eisenach.
"Steinbuck", would have been a good point to have escaped from had it not been for a close chain of guards. When it was misty and if there were low cloud they doubled the guard - the grey uniforms, Totenkaphen, which consisted of four, foreign S.S., entwining Ukranians! They had formed their own international too which was in the style of the Nazi's of course.
On one off our "off duty", days we followed a black marketeer who convinced us how to get rid of our money. He led us to the rear end of the quarantine camp where we encountered two, poor desolate figures huddled together in a corner. So that's what the money exchange was for - for those "Miserables" still speculating.
One turned out to be grandfather, Michelin and the other an Armenian millionaire. They had both sold crucifixes and other paraphenalia at Lourdes before having received their wages for sin here! This practice was looked at with distaste by the other prisoners. In no time, our black marketeer was spotted and chased and we were warned not to take any heed of him.
On our way back we noticed a prisoner with two buckets full of stones and sand standing fixed on a wooden box. This prisoner had stolen food from his comrades - we now realized what severe punishment could happen if caught in such as act and we quickly learned our lesson.
The camp was like an underworld full of petty intrigue and corruption. After a while in quarantine, all pent up revenge on suspected and guilty traitors would break loose and a quick trial would be executed. This would be carried out by commandos bringing in sharp instruments or by drowning - this involved holding the victim's head down in the troughs, surrounded by the crowd.
Another method was to chase the fellow out into the evening, at curfew - with no other alternative but to throw themselves onto the barbed wire near the electrical fence were they would be shot simultaneously by the "Miradors". They were not always suicides as shown in photos.
The S.S. didn't care a bit and the bodies were just added to the rest laying along the block with the others, to be taken away by the "leich tragers", body carriers to the crematorium, it's yard infested with rats and other vermin. The mouths of the victims open and limbs broken before burning and being thrown onto a death pile until ready for cremation.
The Jews in Buchenwald had almost completely disappeared, either to Auschwitz, Bergen Belsen or Mathausen. There were still thirty Jews hidden amongst us - strong builders and probably more that I didn't know about, the rest were mixed in with us and unknown to anybody. We saw the shoe piles left from past prisoners, only the uppers, the soles had been used by other prisoners.
Personal fights in desperation only landed people in the crematorium. The people killed as traitors, which I witnessed, were as far as I could make out, guilty without a doubt. On one occasion, we had watched an individual, from Eastern Europe, flattering the S.S. around us in a very obvious manner. French inmates knew that he had given them away on previous occasions while in French jails. They loathed him, his ways and manners gave him the look of a creep.
One day his ordeal came to pass! He was stabbed in the liver with a small, needle sharp bar, which had been smuggled in from the Guzloffe-Werke. He was then gradually driven to the trough and from there pushed in and held under water until drowned. After this, I remember his accusers, straight-away, looking around for others - it seemed to be easy, once done, such was the mood. In addition, people were apt to commit bestialities with impunity and no second thoughts about it.
One of the Capo's had become as cruel and crude as the S.S. He beat up other prisoners with his stick until they were laying flat on the ground and then kicked them - to the delight of the watching S.S.
This one had to go for sure, one way or the other!
To be continued ...
The quarry was called "Steinbuck", and was on the southern side of the hill overlooking the forested undulations of Franconia and Bavaria - the nearest town being Eisenach.
"Steinbuck", would have been a good point to have escaped from had it not been for a close chain of guards. When it was misty and if there were low cloud they doubled the guard - the grey uniforms, Totenkaphen, which consisted of four, foreign S.S., entwining Ukranians! They had formed their own international too which was in the style of the Nazi's of course.
On one off our "off duty", days we followed a black marketeer who convinced us how to get rid of our money. He led us to the rear end of the quarantine camp where we encountered two, poor desolate figures huddled together in a corner. So that's what the money exchange was for - for those "Miserables" still speculating.
One turned out to be grandfather, Michelin and the other an Armenian millionaire. They had both sold crucifixes and other paraphenalia at Lourdes before having received their wages for sin here! This practice was looked at with distaste by the other prisoners. In no time, our black marketeer was spotted and chased and we were warned not to take any heed of him.
On our way back we noticed a prisoner with two buckets full of stones and sand standing fixed on a wooden box. This prisoner had stolen food from his comrades - we now realized what severe punishment could happen if caught in such as act and we quickly learned our lesson.
The camp was like an underworld full of petty intrigue and corruption. After a while in quarantine, all pent up revenge on suspected and guilty traitors would break loose and a quick trial would be executed. This would be carried out by commandos bringing in sharp instruments or by drowning - this involved holding the victim's head down in the troughs, surrounded by the crowd.
Another method was to chase the fellow out into the evening, at curfew - with no other alternative but to throw themselves onto the barbed wire near the electrical fence were they would be shot simultaneously by the "Miradors". They were not always suicides as shown in photos.
The S.S. didn't care a bit and the bodies were just added to the rest laying along the block with the others, to be taken away by the "leich tragers", body carriers to the crematorium, it's yard infested with rats and other vermin. The mouths of the victims open and limbs broken before burning and being thrown onto a death pile until ready for cremation.
The Jews in Buchenwald had almost completely disappeared, either to Auschwitz, Bergen Belsen or Mathausen. There were still thirty Jews hidden amongst us - strong builders and probably more that I didn't know about, the rest were mixed in with us and unknown to anybody. We saw the shoe piles left from past prisoners, only the uppers, the soles had been used by other prisoners.
Personal fights in desperation only landed people in the crematorium. The people killed as traitors, which I witnessed, were as far as I could make out, guilty without a doubt. On one occasion, we had watched an individual, from Eastern Europe, flattering the S.S. around us in a very obvious manner. French inmates knew that he had given them away on previous occasions while in French jails. They loathed him, his ways and manners gave him the look of a creep.
One day his ordeal came to pass! He was stabbed in the liver with a small, needle sharp bar, which had been smuggled in from the Guzloffe-Werke. He was then gradually driven to the trough and from there pushed in and held under water until drowned. After this, I remember his accusers, straight-away, looking around for others - it seemed to be easy, once done, such was the mood. In addition, people were apt to commit bestialities with impunity and no second thoughts about it.
One of the Capo's had become as cruel and crude as the S.S. He beat up other prisoners with his stick until they were laying flat on the ground and then kicked them - to the delight of the watching S.S.
This one had to go for sure, one way or the other!
To be continued ...
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