Arriving at Auschwitz....

[Dan W.]

The cherished objects we had brought with us thus far were left behind on the train, and with them, at last, our illusions.
Every two yards or so stood an SS man with his machine pistol trained on us. Hand in hand we followed the crowd. An SS noncommisioned officer came to meet us, a truncheon in his hand. He gave the order.

"Men to the left! Women to the right!"

Eight words, spoken quietly, indifferently, without emotion. Eight short and simple words. Yet that was the moment when I parted from my mother. I had not had time to think, but already I felt the pressure from my fathers hand: we were alone. For a second I glimpsed my mother and my sisiter Tzipora moving away to the right. Tzipora held mothers hand. I saw them disappear into the distance, my mother was stroking my sisters fair hair, as though to protect her, while I walked on with my father and the other men. I did not know that in that place, at that moment, I was parting from my mother and Tzipora forever. I kept walking, and father held my hand.
Behind me an old man fell to the ground and the SS man unholstered his pistol. My hand shifted to my fathers arm. I had but one thought--not to lose him. Not to be left alone.

The SS officer gave the order. "Form Fives!" Commotion. At all costs we must keep together. "Hey Kid, how old are you?" It was one of the prisoners who asked me this. I could not see his face, but his voice was tense and weary. "I'm not quite fifteen yet" I replied. "No! You're Eighteen" "But I'm not." I said. "Fifteen."
"Fool. Listen to what I say." Then he questioned my father, who replied "Fifty."
The other grew more furious then ever. "No! Not fifty. Forty. Do you understand? Eighteen and forty"
He disappeared into the night shadows. A second man came up to us, spitting oaths.
"What have you come here for, you sons of bitches? What are you doing here?"

Someone dared to answer him. "What do you think? Do you think we came here for our pleasure?"

"You shut your trap you filthy swine, or I'll squash you right now! You'd have done better to have hanged yourselves where you were than to come here. Didn't you know what was in store for you at Auschwitz? Haven't you heard about it? In 1944?"
No we had not heard. No one had told us. He could not believe his ears. His tone of voice became increasingly brutal.
"Don't you see that chimney over there? See it? Do you see those flames? Over there-that's where you are going to be taken. That is your grave, over there. Haven't you realized that, you dumb bastards? You are all going to be burned, frizzled away. Turned into ashes."
He was growing hysterical in his fury. We stayed motionless, petrified. Surely it was all a nightmare? Just an unimaginable nightmare?

I heard murmurs around me. A few sturdy young fellows were speaking of revolt. But the older ones begged them not to do anything foolish. The wind of revolt died down. We continued our march toward the square. In the middle stood the notorious Dr. Mengele (a typical SS officer: a cruel face, but not devoid of intelligence, and wearing a monocle.); a conductor's baton in one hand, he was standing among the other officers. The baton moved unremittingly, sometimes right, sometimes left.
"How old are you?" he asked in a paternal voice. "Eighteen" I said, my voice shaking. "Are you in good health?" "Yes" I replied. "What's your occupation?" Should I say student? "Farmer" I replied. The conversation lasted a few seconds. It seemed like an eternity. The baton moved to the left. I took half a step, waiting to see where he sent father. If he went right, I would as well. The baton moved left. A weight was lifted from my heart.

We did not know which was the better side, right or left. Which road led to the prison and which to the crematory? Another prisoner came up to us. "Satisfied?" "Yes" someone replied.
"Poor Devils, your going to the crematory." He seemed to be telling the truth. Not far from us flames were leaping up from a ditch, gigantic flames. They were burning something. A lorry drew up at the pit and delivered its load -- little children. Babies! Yes, I saw it - saw it with my own eyes....those children in the flames. (Is it surprising I could not sleep after that? Sleep had fled from my eyes)

So this is where we were going. A little farther on was a ditch for adults. I pinched myself. Was I still alive? Was I awake? How can this be happening? How can they burn people, children, and the world keep silent? None of this can be happening, I must be having a nightmare.

My fathers thoughts drew me from my thoughts:
"It's a shame....a shame that you could not have gone with your mother..... I saw many boys your age going with their mothers.
His voice was terribly sad. I realized he did not want to see what they were going to do to me. He did not want to see the burning of his only son. My forehead was bathed in cold sweat. But I told him that I did not believe that they could burn people in our age, that humanity would not allow it.
"Humanity? Humanity is not concerned with us. Today anything is possible, even crematories.." His voice was choking. He was weeping. His body was shaking convulsively. Around us everyone was weeping. Someone began to recite the prayer for the dead. I don't know if that ever happened before, the living reciting the prayer of the dead for themselves.

Before they reached the pit they were ordered to turn left and march to the barracks. So began their journey into hell.

Night by Elie Wiesel -- pgs. 27-30

[michael mills]

In the middle stood the notorious Dr. Mengele (a typical SS officer: a cruel face, but not devoid of intelligence, and wearing a monocle.); a conductor's baton in one hand, he was standing among the other officers. The baton moved unremittingly, sometimes right, sometimes left.

Obviously Wiesel never saw the real Mengele, who according to contemporary photographic evidence did not wear a monocle. In fact, I doubt that any SS officers wore monocles; surely Himmler would have frowned on such an old-fashioned Prussian affectation.

Nor did Mengele have a cruel face; photos, and the accounts of female prisoners, show him as rather handsome.

I guess the character described by Wiesel is a figment of his imagination.

[Roberto]

Nor did Mengele have a cruel face; photos, and the accounts of female prisoners, show him as rather handsome.

One thing doesn’t exclude the other.

A photograph of the real Mengele can be viewed on this site:

http://www.crimelibrary.com/serial_kill ... dex_1.html

And here’s one some of his guinea pigs (careful, graphic image):

http://www.nizkor.org/ftp.cgi/people/m/ ... engele.jpg

[michael mills]

A photograph of the real Mengele can be viewed on this site:

Note, no monocle.

And Roberto avoids the essential issue, which is that Wiesel's identification of a certain person as Mengele must be phoney. A second issue is whether the person described by Wiesel actually existed, or whether the description is entirely fictional.

[Dan W.]

Obviously Wiesel never saw the real Mengele, who according to contemporary photographic evidence did not wear a monocle. In fact, I doubt that any SS officers wore monocles; surely Himmler would have frowned on such an old-fashioned Prussian affectation.

Nor did Mengele have a cruel face; photos, and the accounts of female prisoners, show him as rather handsome.

I guess the character described by Wiesel is a figment of his imagination.

Whether or not Mengele had a "cruel face" or not is up to the writer to decide. If I were he and saw people arbitrarily summoned to their deaths I would also state the man had a "cruel face", and would add he was probably dispassionate, cold, calculated and methodical.

[Roberto]

A photograph of the real Mengele can be viewed on this site:

Note, no monocle.

Did I say anything about a monocle, Mills?

And Roberto avoids the essential issue, which is that Wiesel's identification of a certain person as Mengele must be phoney.

And what makes that the "essential issue", Mills?

The dissident researcher's pathetic eagerness to take a leak on that filthy Jew Wiesel, perhaps?

[michael mills]

Roberto wrote:

Did I say anything about a monocle, Mills?

No you did not. But what you say is not really of interest to me; the issue is what Wiesel wrote.

Wiesel described Mengele as wearing a monocle. But we know that Mengele did not wear a monocle.

So why did Wiesel describe him as wearing one? Did he actually see a monocle-wearing SS-officer carrying out selections with a conductor's baton? Unlikely; contemporary photographs show SS-men pointing with long walking-sticks, but certainly not batons. And the topos of the monocle-wearing Prussian officer was really out of date by the time of the Second World War.

Is it possible that the figure described by Wiesel is entirely fictional? If so, did he really witness a selection of new arrivals, but in the interests of a good story substitute a fictional selector manufactured according to standard topoi for the real selector, probably a rather non-descript NCO, as shown in contemporary photos? Or did he not witness a selection at all, as suggested by other sensational elements in his story?

The dissident researcher's pathetic eagerness to take a leak on that filthy Jew Wiesel, perhaps?

Wiesel's personal hygiene is of no interest to me; I assume it reaches normal community standards.

However, Wiesel has made a lucrative lifetime career out of being a "Holocaust survivor", and as such could be expected to tell the truth. Nevertheless, there are many anomalies in the stories he tells, of which some examples occur in the passage quoted at the beginning of this thread. It is quite reasonable to point out those anomalies, although it is obvious that Roberto takes a dim view of any questioning of elements in the accounts of "Holocaust survivors".

The rather coarse imagery used by Roberto, and his constant aggressive tone, combined with his extraordinary sensitivity to what he interprets as slights against himself, reflect more on him than on those he attacks.

[Dan]

So why did Wiesel describe him as wearing one?

I understand he confused him with Colonel Klink, but I'll have to dig out my sources.

[chalutzim]

What he is holding?

[Roberto]

Roberto wrote:

Did I say anything about a monocle, Mills?

No you did not. But what you say is not really of interest to me; the issue is what Wiesel wrote.

That's your issue, Mills. For rather obvious reasons.

Wiesel described Mengele as wearing a monocle. But we know that Mengele did not wear a monocle.

So why did Wiesel describe him as wearing one?

I couldn't care less. I've never read any of Wiesel's novels and don't intend to either. Why is the question so important to Mills?

Did he actually see a monocle-wearing SS-officer carrying out selections with a conductor's baton? Unlikely; contemporary photographs show SS-men pointing with long walking-sticks, but certainly not batons.

Of course those photographs show every SS-officer who ever carried out a selection, don't they?

And the topos of the monocle-wearing Prussian officer was really out of date by the time of the Second World War.

Was it? Didn't Reichenau wear one? And von Leeb? And is it so improbable that an SS officer of good family, like Mengele, might emulate ancient or family traditions?

Is it possible that the figure described by Wiesel is entirely fictional? If so, did he really witness a selection of new arrivals, but in the interests of a good story substitute a fictional selector manufactured according to standard topoi for the real selector, probably a rather non-descript NCO, as shown in contemporary photos? Or did he not witness a selection at all, as suggested by other sensational elements in his story?

How come that what fires up poor Mills so much leaves me entirely cold? Could the reason be that I consider it completely irrelevant whether or not Wiesel's literary works contain some poetic license, whereas Mills hates Wiesel's guts and can't miss a chance to take a shot at the man?

The dissident researcher's pathetic eagerness to take a leak on that filthy Jew Wiesel, perhaps?

Wiesel's personal hygiene is of no interest to me; I assume it reaches normal community standards.

However, Wiesel has made a lucrative lifetime career out of being a "Holocaust survivor", and as such could be expected to tell the truth.

Whether or not Wiesel is required to be fully accurate depends on the occasion on which he makes certain statements. If it's a deposition in court I would expect him not to embellish anything. But his writings I have looked upon as novels, please correct me if I'm wrong, and in a novel the author is entitled to use some poetic license. Which in this respect would have referred to no more than some minor details.

Nevertheless, there are many anomalies in the stories he tells, of which some examples occur in the passage quoted at the beginning of this thread. It is quite reasonable to point out those anomalies, although it is obvious that Roberto takes a dim view of any questioning of elements in the accounts of "Holocaust survivors".

That's absolute nonsense, my dear Mills, as you well know. Before a court of justice Wiesel would be subject to poignant cross-examination like everyone else. And if his works were meant to have the quality of historical eyewitness reports, I would also expect him to stick as closely as possible to the recollections of his memory, which are as fallible as anyone else's. But from what little I know of Wiesel, my understanding is that he intends to convey the atmosphere of the events he lived through by literary means. Accordingly it's as out of place to make a fuss about whether or not he got certain details right in books like Night as it would be silly to do the same in regard to Curzio Malaparte's books Kaputt and La Pelle. I wouldn't be surprised, by the way, if most "anomalies" in Wiesel's books existed only in the minds of Michael Mills and others of his persuasion.

The rather coarse imagery used by Roberto,

If I had accused a fellow poster of "butt-sniffing", I'd be mighty quiet in this respect. I presume Mills is referring to the "filthy Jew" here. Let's just say that projecting such imagery onto Mills' mind comes naturally to whoever is familiar with his stance.

and his constant aggressive tone,

Yes, I can be very aggressive when I come across ideologically motivated propaganda and intellectual dishonesty. Especially when my opponent has manifested character traits resembling those of a certain rodent.

combined with his extraordinary sensitivity to what he interprets as slights against himself,

Now I'm a bit lost. What exactly is Mills referring to? An example with a quote might be helpful.

reflect more on him than on those he attacks.

I'll let our audience decide that.

[chalutzim]

(...) Nevertheless, there are many anomalies in the stories he tells, of which some examples occur in the passage quoted at the beginning of this thread.

At least Eliezer Wiesel does not intend to be himself a historian, like the impossible David Irving...

[Roberto]

(...) Nevertheless, there are many anomalies in the stories he tells, of which some examples occur in the passage quoted at the beginning of this thread.

At least Eliezer Wiesel does not intend to be himself a historian, like the impossible David Irving...

I don't know it this applies to all of his works, but it seems I wasn't all that wrong in considering Wiesel's Night a work of literature rather than historiography:

Nobel laureate Elie Wiesel's wrenching attempt to find meaning in the horror of the Holocaust is technically a novel[my emphasis], but it's based so closely on his own experiences in Birkenau, Auschwitz, and Buchenwald that it's generally--and not inaccurately--read as an autobiography. Like Wiesel himself, the protagonist[my emphasis] of Night is a scholarly, pious teenager racked with guilt at having survived the genocidal campaign that consumed his family. His memories of the nightmare world of the death camps present him with an intolerable question: how can the God he once so fervently believed in have allowed these monstrous events to occur? There are no easy answers in this harrowing book, which probes life's essential riddles with the lucid anguish only great literature[my emphasis] achieves. It marks the crucial first step in Wiesel's lifelong project to bear witness for those who died. --

Source:

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/de ... ce&s=books

Guess I'll take Mário Vargas Llosa to task for certain anomalies in his historical novel La Guerra del Fin del Mundo. The part where the Baron of Canabrava makes love to the maid in front of his demented wife, for instance, seems to be a figment of the author's imagination.

[michael mills]

"Chalutzim" wrote:

What he is holding?

A thermometer perhaps?

Anyway, my dear self-styled Zionist pioneer making the desert blossom as the rose, you are behind the times. Our prickly colleague, Roberto, has pointed out that Wiesel is a writer of fiction, hence the conductor's baton (and the monocle, and the cruel face) are to be relegated to the realm of "poetic licence".

Perhaps the images of truckloads of babies being dumped into the bonfire are also "poetic licence", although I dare say that Roberto would want to maintain the historicity of those images that are not immediately identifiable as contrary to reality.

[michael mills]

So now Roberto has resorted to the last line of defence for Wiesel.

It seems that Wiesel is a writer of fiction rather than of history. Accordingly, we need not concern ourselves with the anomalies; they are simply "poetic licence".

Fair enough. But if Wiesel is a writer of fiction, then let's not introduce his works into this forum, which is supposed to deal with history.

And I note that when the quotation from Wiesel's work of fiction was first introduced, Roberto did not immediately jump in with a warning message to readers, telling them that this was all "poetic licence" and not an accurate picture of what happened when thge Hungarian Jews arrived at Auschwitz in the early summer of 1944.

It appears that if readers' attention had not been drawn to those anomalies, Roberto would have been quite happy to let them go on believing that the passage quoted was not a work of fiction but an accurate portrayal of historical reality.

To my mind, the most egregious element of "poetic licence" in Wiesel's work of fiction was the image of long lines of arriving Jews being led to giant bonfires and thrown in, including truckloads of babies.

The historical reality behind the "poetic licence" is of course the fact that in the summer of 1944, the bodies of those prisoners killed because of their unfitness for use as slave labour were cremated in the open air on large pyres, apparently because both Crematoria IV and V were out of action at the time. The existence of those pyres is confirmed by air-photos and ground-level photos.

Wiesel has simply taken that reality and sensationalised it as an image of lines of living persons being thrown into the flames, an image no doubt drawn from quasi-historical accounts of human sacrifices made to Moloch in ancient times. Just "poetic licence", according to Roberto, but an image that he would allow to be accepted as historical reality if left unchallenged.

The problem with Wiesel's "poetic licence" is that it is often accepted as historical truth by the less informed readers of his works of fiction. I remember my own first confrontation with stories of Auschwitz, at primary school in the late 1950s; our teacher told us that living people were carried on conveyer belts and dumped straight into the ovens.

Roberto mentioned "Curzio Malaparte" (pseudonym), who he tells us also used "poetic licence". One of the most vivid images painted by Malaparte was that of the jar full of human eyes that the Croatian leader Pavelic supposedly kept on his desk. It was actually a jar of raisins, but Malaparte's sensational falsified image was for a long accepted by fact, initially propagated by supporters of Tito, but also believed in by many without any vested interest. That shows that "poetic licence" by persons who claim to be eyewitnesses of grossly unusual events is not harmless; it can actually result in a distortion of history.

Contrary to Roberto's overblown rhetoric, I do not hate Wiesel's guts. In fact, I hardly think about him at all. I consider him a rather disreputable character who has parlayed his experiences as a Jew deported from Hungary in 1944 into a highly lucrative career as a professional "Holocaust survivor", largely by sensationalising and fictionalising whatever his real experiences were. He also appears to be something of an egomaniacal trouble-maker, as his reported involvement with the USHMM indicates.

In my experience, there are few obsessed gut-haters on this forum, but Roberto is certainly one of them. Of course, the real object of his visceral hatred is his own former self as an adolescent "playfully romancing" National Socialism (his own words), which must later have been rather embarassing for him.

[michael mills]

Just a further comment on the photo of Dr Mengele posted by "Chalutzim".

It does show him to have been a rather good-looking guy.

No wonder all the younger female prisoners had the hots for him, as Gisela Perl rather disapprovingly tells us.