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Chapter23 We inmates are people, too I lived on among my prostitutes, but life now seemed to me like a new gift. It had been so desolate and bitter in the dark imprisonment of the last week that staying in Block II seemed to me like a salvation. And they made the effort, my poor, miserable sisters, not to vex me or bother me. I was very touched to observe how some of them troubled themselves. Yes, they too had hearts in their breasts, even if they were broken in most cases. Yet for the majority of this capricious bunch every resolution made was gone with the wind all too soon. They knew well that if they got along with each other, they made me very happy. They also knew all too well that I never would beat them, as many a block elder in the KZ unfortunately had done. While my blood certainly did boil at times out of rage and anger, never once did I lift my hand for a beating. Soon the discord, quarreling, envy, grudges, wrongful accusations, and betrayal began all over again among them. All of these vices were part of the day's business for them. In particular, two individuals existed in my block against whom I was completely powerless. My predecessor, the highly respectable, brave Sascha Dziuba, had alreadytried to have these two inmates moved to another block if possible. I did the same. But it was refused me as well. I was told that I should lash out against them and see to it that it was taken care of. But no, my basic axiom was and remained not to beat any inmate. I entreated God every morning anew that I might not forget myself in my often justified, boundless rage, and that I might keep my temper. These two verydifficult inmates in myblockhad both been "brothel mothers," or madams, as they called themselves, by profession; both were already overfiftyyears old and both were depraved and morally ruined. They were only out for themselves, for their own advantage, and related out loud, for the benefit of the entire block, the most awful bordello experiences down to the smallest detail. The screaming and applause of the other inmates on these occasions was just monstrous. And there were still some among them who were not yet rotten to the core, for whom these two errant women were 147 The Blessed Abyss pure poison. Yet what could be done? I forbade them from having these conversations, but no sooner had I turned my back when they began to pour out their filth over the other inmates in the barracks all over again. In this regard BlockII was a real pool of depravity, and we block and barracks elders were completely powerless to do anything about it. They treated me like a foreigner who did not belong among them. These two obstructionists had already been in the concentration camp for ten years in 1943.1 did try to understand them. And I knew well that people of their type cannot become any better in such a hell. Their basic axiom was: As inmate and prisoner I no longer belong to human society and therefore I have the right to conduct myself accordingly. And theytook this to extremes. They were a pronounced example ofwhere people can end up and what they can sink down to when they have no more inhibitions or principles. When I could no longer stand it in the block and my work was accomplished, I fled to the main Camp Street in the evening, where I breathed real air for the first time. This did me good after the stench in the barracks, and I wandered back and forth, watching the setting sun, which could be so especially beautiful and diverse here. And the sunrises! In the east, the heavens are colored with the most unbelievable hues. I have never seen anything like it again. Yes, "the heavens boast of the Eternal Glory." I often sang this song, and said to myself: Great, almighty God will continue to bring me aid. We were all allowed to stroll for a short time on Camp Street in the evening, and the inmates went around with furrowed brows, sunken into themselves, tormented and deathly sad. Hopelessly they bowed down under the harshyoke the horrible powers-that-be had hung over them. Their external bearing alreadybetrayed their misery. Others were proud, sauntered around with heads held high...

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