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Alicia
Continued from preceding page
Thursday,
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November 11th
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ASK FOR ANNE
GENERAL DENTISTRY FOR CHILDREN
— AND ADULTS —
FIGHT
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MITURE
FADING
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FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1988
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and bodies from blows. All
around me were cries of pain.
More SS men appeared. They
were wearing ski boots and
carrying ski poles; I had the
impression that they had
stumbled onto our reception
and decided to join their
friends.
The woman in front of me
caught a blow on the back of
her neck and dropped to her
knees. An SS man was mov-
ing closer for a second strike.
"Get up," I urged her. I
thought that if I could just get
her to her feet, maybe he
wouldn't be so angry with her.
I bent over and wrapped my
arms around her waist, strug-
gling to pull her up.
Crack! A sharp blow caught
me right across the back,
nearly knocking the breath
from my lungs as it drove me
to my hands and knees. I
gasped from surprise and
pain. Looking up, I saw the
SS man swinging his bamboo
ski pole directly above me.
The pole made a whistling
sound as he whipped it
through the air to beat me
again and again.
I felt a click in my back,
then knifelike pains that
made it difficult for me to in-
hale. I knew he had cracked
some of my ribs. I squirmed to
get away but could barely
crawl, the pain was too great.
Again and again he struck
me. Then I heard another
click, different from the first,
and the sound of wood split-
ting. The prong of the skipole
fell into the snow beside me.
He had beaten me so hard, he
had broken the pole. This
enraged the SS man even
more. "Damned Jew!" he
screamed, kicking me with
his heavy boots. I tried to
shield my body, but he kick-
ed at my arms and hands too.
Then, as quickly as it had
started, the abuse seemed to
end. Orders were shouted for
us to enter the building.
A woman helped me to my
feet. "Come, Alicia, we have
to go inside now." I stared
dumbly at her. She knew me.
She knew my name. Mrs.
Eckerberg had been caught in
this madness with me. I didn't
remember seeing her at the
police station in Buczacz. Her
presence was calming but
disorienting too. It was
almost as though she had ap-
peared out of thin air.
Mrs. Eckerberg tried to
smile reassuringly, but I
could see that she, too, was in
a great deal of pain. Blood ran
down her cheek from a cut in
her forehead. I felt my tired
body relax against hers as we
plodded painfully through the
snow and into the building.
The prison was made en-
tirely of stone. The solid walls
had kept out the warmth of
the morning, and the chill
went through my coat and
shawl. Now we were ordered
to remove our overcoats and
put them on a huge pile, and
then to stand in a circle. My
bruised and stinging fingers
fumbled painfully at the but-
tons. It was lucky that I had
been wearing this coat at the
time I was beaten; otherwise
my back might have been
broken.
Without my coat the cold
felt even more bitter. In
moments I was shivering,
which shook my cracked ribs,
sending bursts of sharp pain
through my back and chest.
I thought, how
heavy are the
sorrows of Jewish
mothers.
Next we were ordered to
remove all of our jewelry. No
one resisted; but those who
were slow in unfastening
snaps or pulling off rings
were beaten.
Quickly I began to remove
my only jewelry, a pair of
pierced earrings I had worn
since I was six years old. I was
able to take one earring off
easily, but the other one had
always been a problem. The
closer the Germans came, the
more frantically I worked
with the difficult earring.
Finally two Nazis stood
before me, one holding a sack
containing all the jewelry, the
other ready to help remove
the pieces. Quickly I handed
over the first earring. "I will
have the other for you right
away," I said in broken Ger-
man, twisting at the gold
ring.
The man did not hesitate
for a moment but reached
over, slapped my hand away,
and grasped the tight gold
ring. He jerked his hand
sharply downward, and pull-
ed the earring out, tearing
the earlobe. I felt dizzy as the
blood flowed freely down my
neck from the burning
wound.
Suddenly my legs gave
away, and I collapsed to the
floor. Unfortunately I did not
faint, but remained conscious
as two guards hurried over to
kick me back to my feet. It
was as though I were in the
middle of a bad dream. I saw
Mrs. Eckerberg reaching over
to help me, but she was
pushed back. I could hear the
Germans shouting at me and
could see the toes of their
boots coming toward me, but
their blows felt muffled.
Everything looked white and
misty and seemed to be in
slow motion. Finally I could