Day 75 - D.O.R.A. "Deutshe Oberlander Rochetten Aktiengesel-shate!

One day a French pilot and other prisoners that I had known from a previous transport arrived at the camp.  Most of them died from tuberculosis shortly afterwards but from this group we learned all about D.O.R.A or The German Oberlander Rockets Company.  It was, of course, a long distance ballistic missile, enormous in size, that could maybe reach as far as London or New York - wherever its final destination was it could cause a lot of destruction and had to be stopped.

This was our pigeon and was our highest priority.  All our efforts and secrets would be in service to the destruction of this project.  The French pilot told us how they had to work day and night in the most appalling conditions to fulfill this program.  They had to participate in making tunnels in a very primitive way, the machinery was completely inadequate for the tasks they had to perform.  He said they worked almost non-stop inside a long ridge, dying and dropping down like flies.  They worked above and below ground walking miles to do the burrowing like the moles from their camp!

A lot of experts were brought in once the silo was up and the gigantic rocket started to take shape like a big monster; can you imagine an atomic bomb in this nose cone or even enough explosives to enable the missile to reach as far as New York!  What destruction that contraption could have caused.


Maybe, they couldn't exactly hit Times Square but they could hit New York from anywhere - at this point they had the capacity but not time which was running out very quickly.


The boycott and the messenger would have to go out very fast for this project so that the Allies could annihilate it with V2'S.


To be continued ...

Day 74 - Ranken-Revier ( First Aid Barracks) and V2's!

It came to pass that the hiding place for everything was under the chair, desk and floor of the S.S. doctor, a Bavarian in the "Ranken-Revier", the small row of first aid barracks stretched alongside near the fence on the left side on entering the camp.


The doctor had been playing a double role all along; from sending us on death transports to participating in single and multiple murders.  He was as culpable as any other S.S. and at the same time tried to save his own skin.  He had been taken into complete confidence by the camp elders, the all German seniors.  I don't know exactly when but I do know it was before my entry into Buchenwald.


The radio must have been there all along too and I can honestly say that most of us didn't know about it.  We couldn't even look the fellow straight in the eyes - it was best we didn't know him at all and vice versa but it is certain that quite a few prisoners were saved from the worst transports by his intervention.


After all the events that had just occurred, as before, we kept to our Commando's again. For a time, we held our respective old positions and collected screws and bolts to pile in heaps, moved bricks and planks back and forward and sometimes went to sit, for a while, on unexploded bombs to be left alone or have a tranquil rest.


Tom Mix continued to play homage to his nickname while doing his rounds with his whiplash.   One day, we noticed, a proud S.S., now walking past the smoldering covers of the Jewish shoes stacked up on the road.  At this moment, everything around us was just getting revived by a breeze which was just reaching an incendiary stick still hidden in the damp earth.  The incendiary stick suddenly went off!


The proud S.S. guard walking in front of us went flat in the mud right in front of us and his pride went flat too.  As he was aware of our presence we went deeper into the bomb pits - all he could do was try to gather himself together.


Suddenly, we heard the gradual noise of shouting and the hollow sound of prisoners hammering on anything they could see to warn us of danger.


It was Tom Mix in all his glory, he had unexpectedly disappeared in front of us and fallen crosswise, now stuck firmly and wedged in an open crevasse not too far from our position.  Nobody dared to go anywhere near him!  He had managed to get his luger loose and screamed the more for it, announcing, "Vervloechte Franszosen, all French for us too.  The row of bullets were for them and the last one was for himself - if it came to it!


He kept us at bay as he was drunk and likely afraid as he was in a very  awkward position.   He eventually got out without help!  In the evening, after his laughable debacle, he was again, wielding his whip before the signal came for stopping and entering the camp.  After a while, we got used to his capers although he was still very dangerous and to be taken very seriously, better safe than sorry!


As winter approached we managed to gather enough planks from the debris to make fires -  nobody stopped us anymore.  One day, I had the opportunity to have a good warm up and explore into the ruins and places never seen before - so secret were they!  I now came to a big heap, emitting a lot of simmering heat and so had a good warm up, turning my body on all sides to get the best of the warmth. 


While I was doing this my eyes noticed giant cylinders laying flat on the ground and I started to count them.  As I was counting some inmates from this department told me that there were eight obsolete and useless rockets without parts to complete their assembly.  Also, that the transportation had been completely disrupted.


When repairs had been completed these rockets would be gradually removed  but they were definitely out of the war at this moment.  These were the latest secret weapons, namely the V2's, in all their past glory - now just scrap.




To be continued ...

Day 73 - The Hiding of Arms at Buchenwald!!

The tree of Goethe was blown over in the blast and was laying on its side.  Prisoners were now cutting pieces of wood from the tree to make souvenirs.
Another prophecy and revelation had come to pass which was that when the foliage starts to die that the thousand year Reich would be close to its downfall.  This had come to pass and was happening now.


God only helps those who help themselves. This saying and others were coming into action and fulfillment at this moment!


The S.S. left us pretty much alone for three days.  We burned our dead and they tried to give their few, important, fallen figureheads a silent luguber ceremonial re-burial, a demonic Te Deum.  Substandard and with weird, funeral music that we could now hear over the distant vibrations of the purified air.  It seemed quasi mystical, more like black magic rites and very unpleasant to the ears.  From their preoccupation with the occult they were burying their insanity, void of light, understanding and pity.


We took advantage of these days of rest to augment our supply of arms.  The arms came in with the provision carts on the goods run from Weimer, which passed by the ruins.  This process was helped along by the total destruction and temporary set back to the S.S.' iron oaths and crumbling discipline - having received a lot of hard punches right on and in full face.


In Weimar, we heard that the people had heard the noise from the bombardment better than us - this gave them a prelude to what was in store for them.  After the third day, the S.S. monster came back into its own but something was lost forever.  They pulled themselves together but they never had the same stature and bearing as before the bombing.


Regarding the hiding of arms, hardly anybody knew, not even myself.  That was the sole responsibility of the elders of the camp as was the radio.  Eight prisoners had given their life for the radio, they were taken at random after the raid, taken to Weimer for interrogation, torture and then vanished from the scene - without talking.


We still had our secret to be used, as a last resort, at the appropriate time. Nobody was able to interfere with that, for himself or his buddies, this rule was for the benefit of the whole camp and a divine rule.




To be continued ...

Day 72 - My Dad's Prisoner Card

Elizabeth Kobler Ros from Arizona wrote this piece before she passed away! For me it is an excellent tribute in memory of my Dad and Dave Noble who passed away last year of cancer.


 "The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These people have an appreciation, a sensitivity and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness and a deep loving concern..."