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In June and July 1942, four transports left the town – we were sent to Terezin. On July 2nd we and Mr. Wolf also left our home at Sadky 9. Each one of us was allowed to take 50 kg along. My little eight-year-old sister with a little backpack, to which was tied her doll Olinka and a chamber-pot – that's how the majority of little Jewish children went to the transport. All of us with a number around our necks. It was summer – school was out for summer holidays, and we had got three or four layers of clothing on, and high boots. What do you think fits into 50 kg when you know that hunger awaits? You take along food, and duvets for the winter. After a long railway ride in a dark and terribly crowded cattle wagon, we arrived in Bohusovice, where I took my backpack and joined a long line of people walking to Terezin.
Our ‘shloiska’ was in a former bakery. In Terezin there was a ‘Ghettosperre’ like always, when a transport arrived or departed. Half the transport – several hundred people – were put up in a large room – a former storage room. A packed earthen floor and the strong sour smell of moldy flour. Latrines – a ditch and above it a rough board and the stink of quicklime, that is to accompany us our whole time in the ghetto. We're beginning to be hungry. We aren't allowed to leave the bakery. After I threw the heavy bags to the ground, I couldn’t help it and burst into crying, no one noticed, luckily. They brought a barrel of soup – my family hadn't arrived yet – I, the shy one, took the ladle and began serving the soup. One old man probably couldn't find his mess tin, and came for the soup with a night pot. It was new, but still, it was a night pot, and we'd left our homes only three days earlier!
Our ‘shloiska’ was in a former bakery. In Terezin there was a ‘Ghettosperre’ like always, when a transport arrived or departed. Half the transport – several hundred people – were put up in a large room – a former storage room. A packed earthen floor and the strong sour smell of moldy flour. Latrines – a ditch and above it a rough board and the stink of quicklime, that is to accompany us our whole time in the ghetto. We're beginning to be hungry. We aren't allowed to leave the bakery. After I threw the heavy bags to the ground, I couldn’t help it and burst into crying, no one noticed, luckily. They brought a barrel of soup – my family hadn't arrived yet – I, the shy one, took the ladle and began serving the soup. One old man probably couldn't find his mess tin, and came for the soup with a night pot. It was new, but still, it was a night pot, and we'd left our homes only three days earlier!
Period
Year
1942
Location
Czechia
Interview
Maud Michal Beer