The Jewish Dog (18 page)

He pointed at a new tattoo on his arm
.
The picture of a dog (that looked nothing like me) with the name “Blitz” written below it.

“I did it for you!”

I must admit that I had never been honored with such a touching gesture.

Two days after the competition
,
our training was complete
.
In an impressive ceremony
,
an SS trainer badge was fastened to Ralph's right pocket
.
I received a brand new red collar
,
decorated in black swastikas
.
After the ceremony
,
the commander of the course gave Ralph a certificate and told him where we would serve.

Treblinka.

CHAPTER 24

T
he train traveled eastward
.
Day
,
night
,
day
,
night
,
and another day
.
The cars rattled as they raced down the tracks
.
Several dogs disembarked at each station
.
I was not yet dropped off
.
The green forests were a blur as we passed
,
and I could see birds flying backwards
.
It was the first time I had taken a train
,
and it wasn't a bad experience
.
Ralph came to the dog car several times a day to check on me and lift my spirits
.
The only thing that made the experience less than perfect was that we were not allowed out to relieve ourselves
.
It's difficult to urinate in a small cage with no privacy.

We disembarked after three days of traveling
.
There was a thick cloud covering the forest and it was hard to discern the barbed wire stretching behind the cypress trees
.
The place had a smell of finality
.
A point of no return
.
Each word
,
each whisper
,
and each echo sounded different in Treblinka
.
The birds' chirping sounded off-key
.
The air was heavy with a smell of dust that I didn't recognize
.
The six million scent detectors in my nose were on edge because of the mysterious smell of the place.

Upon arrival
,
we were welcomed by Franz Stangl
,
camp commandant
.
He wore a white riding coat
,
his hat in one hand and a loosely held whip in the other
.
He rolled the whip between his fingers and
,
from time to time
,
raised his hat to conceal a yawn
.
After his deputy
,
Kurt Franz
,
presented him and welcomed him with a salute
,
the commandant expounded his world-view to his new subordinates.

“As I see it,” Hauptsturmführer Stangl said
,
“success is a situation where things appear to run themselves
.
At the end of the day
,
if you set ideology and missions aside
,
what we run here is a factory
.
A factory that turns Jews into ashes.”

The new officers smiled and watched their silver-tongued commandant in adoration.

“Things running themselves,” the commandant continued
,
“means that each member of the senior staff knows his job perfectly
,
and all that's left for me to do is supervise from afar and make sure nothing goes wrong.”

Stangl's adjutant came in
,
saluted hastily
,
and handed the commandant a note
.
Stangl took a moment to read the note
,
placed it in his pocket
,
and went on
.
“After weeks of hard work
,
I believe I have managed to bring Treblinka to its desired status
.
And I want to tell you it wasn't easy
,
but it was certainly worth it
,
because I sleep well at night
.
I sleep well because I have a senior staff that I trust
.
A senior staff thanks to whom our factory is flourishing.”

After the commandant spoke
,
it was the deputy's turn
.
Instead of boring us with more words
,
Oberscharführer Kurt Franz wished to show us a demonstration
.
We followed him to the marching grounds
.
As we arrived
,
the prisoners who had been taken from their work were ushered in with whips.

Oberscharführer Franz surveyed the lines of prisoners with squinted eyes
.
He walked along the front row
,
back and forth
,
holding a whip over his shoulder
.
His silence did not bode well.

“You know exactly what your friends did,” the deputy commandant said
,
removing his pistol from its holster
.
“If someone is whipped
,
it is because he deserved it
!
And when I command to count out the lashes
,
I
will
be obeyed. . . .” As he spoke
,
he put the pistol to the head of one of the prisoners
.
“We don't have much sympathy here for jewelry thieves either. . . .” The gun moved to the head of the next prisoner
.
“And there is only one punishment,” he said as he pointed the gun at a third prisoner
,
“for attempted escape!”

I heard a gunshot for the first time in my life
.
Three corpses of Jews lay before me
.
I planted my feet firmly on the ground
,
fearing that if I did not
,
my panic would betray me and I would bolt
.
I glanced at the experienced dogs
.
The sound of the shots did not impress them
.
Their composure reassured me
.
I was moved by the ease with which man holds life and death in his hands
!
I now fully accepted the supremacy of man
.
There is no creature in the world that can stand up against him
.
The Jews' last twitches were unnerving
.
Despite myself
,
I looked away
.
Neither the sight of the dead cat in the Rosenpark nor the sight of my pack mates succumbing to disease reached this level of horror
.
I thought once again of the question I had asked myself in my very first days on Earth
.
This time the answer was firm – no
!
Dogs and humans are not one and the same
.
And I
,
though I understand man and his ways and am fluent in his tongue – I am a dog
.
This fact was clear to me beyond any shade of doubt
.
A dog I was born and a dog I would die.

Although dogs do not come within a mile of man's cruelty
,
some of Kurt Franz's cruelty seemed to rub off on his dog
.
Kurt would wander the camp accompanied by his dog
,
Barry
.
Barry was a huge black creature with long
,
curly fur
.
As long as his sadistic owner was nowhere to be seen
,
Barry was a pleasant dog
,
easygoing and very polite
.
Kurt's presence would instill in him murderous tendencies
,
and on command he would pounce on the designated Jew
,
sinking his sharp teeth in the poor Jew's genitals.

But Barry wasn't the deadliest dog in the camp
:
in all the areas of bloodthirstiness
,
aggression
,
and vitality
,
Mensch surpassed him tenfold
.
Mensch
,
the speckled dog that belonged to August Miete
,
camp sergeant
.
I didn't know it
,
but I was destined yet to meet that dog in a fight to the death
.
Anyone would be sick to their stomach seeing that dog
.
Mensch wouldn't let go of his prey until he tore its flesh into bits
.
He would walk around camp holding a shoe that he had ripped off one of his victims
,
the sole attached by only a few threads
.
The sole would dangle as though its tormented soul was asking for redemption.

Mensch would send me bored looks and bark impatiently.

His cocky barks got on my nerves
.
I hate dogs that bark
Hochdeutsch
.

Mensch's owner
,
August Miete
,
could be recognized by the large knife he carried on his belt
.
He would spend the greater part of his time sitting in the marching grounds sharpening his knife with a rock
.
Mensch would sit at his feet and together they would ambush the passing Jews.

One evening
,
as I was on a walk with Ralph
,
we passed by the grounds
.
The grating sound of the blade against the rock could be heard from afar.

“Guten abend,”
Ralph greeted August Miete.

Mensch wasn't there
,
to my great pleasure
.
I wasn't in the mood for a barking match.

Miete raised his eyes and replied
,
“I've been looking for you
.
Listen
,
if you want to make shitloads of money
,
my dog against yours. . . 
.
The stinking Ukrainians will pay good money to see a fight
.
We can make some profit
,
and not just any profit. . . 
.
There is serious money in this
.
What do you say?”

“No
,
that's not our thing
.
That's not what I trained Blitz for,” Ralph replied
.
“Blitz isn't a fight dog
.
The Ukrainians' money doesn't interest me.”

“‘The Ukrainians' money doesn't interest me
 . .
 .'” Miete imitated Ralph
.
“Money interests us all
.
You're just scared that Franz will catch you
.
So what if he does? What will he do to us? So he'll write another comment in my service file – I don't give a rat's ass about his comments
.
A man can't live off the money they pay us here.”

“Leave it be,” Ralph pleaded
.
“I don't want a part in these fights.”

“Afraid of the fight
,
huh?” Miete stopped sharpening his knife for a moment
.
“You're scared
!
You're scared for your stupid dog
!
Cowards like you will lose us this war!”

Miete hissed an expletive between his teeth and we continued on our walk.

“Because of lowlifes like him,” Ralph told me
,
“I'm not so sure anymore that we deserve to win. . . .” He filled his lungs with a deep breath and looked at me tenderly
.
“Ach
,
Blitzy Blitz
.
What would I do here without you? It's like you're the only human being in this place.”

I tried to pull him toward the prisoners' barracks
.
A strange sound was coming from one of the shacks
.
It reminded me of the ticking of a sewing machine.

“Bei Fuß!
”
Ralph commanded
,
bothered by the taut leash.

I obeyed
,
coming back to his side.

“If you want to run a little,” Ralph explained
,
“you don't have to dislocate my shoulder
.
You just have to ask.”

He let me off my leash and I ran toward the barracks to find out what the mysterious ticking noise was
.
I suddenly smelled a strange mixture of scents
:
the scent of Jews and the scent of mustiness
.
I entered the shack that the smells were originating from and was enchanted by the magnitude of my find – a huge warehouse filled with shoes
.
How wonderful
!
I will snatch a little shoe for myself
.
Then I can also hold a shoe in my mouth and walk around camp as though I own the world.