Page 47 of The Tattooist of Auschwitz
Lale chooses not to challenge the brotherhood claim.
‘You talk. I listen,’ says Lale.
‘Sometimes you have given me advice, and I have listened. I’ve even tried writing nice things to my girlfriend.’
‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Now you do,’ says Baretski, his expression earnest. ‘Now listen – there’s something I want you to try to get for me.’
Lale is nervous that someone might overhear this conversation.
‘I told you…’
‘It’s my girlfriend’s birthday soon and I want you to get me a pair of nylon stockings to send to her.’
Lale looks at Baretski in disbelief.
Baretski smiles at him. ‘Just get them for me and I won’t shoot you.’ He laughs.
‘I’ll see what I can do. It might take a few days.’
‘Just don’t take too long.’
‘Anything else I can do for you?’ Lale asks.
‘No, you’ve got the day off. You can go and spend time withGita.’
Lale cringes. It is bad enough that Baretski knows Lale spends time with her, but how he hates hearing the bastard say her name.
Before doing what Baretski has suggested, Lale goes looking for Victor. He eventually finds Yuri, who tells him Victor is sick and not at work today. Lale says he is sorry to hear that and walks off.
‘Can I do something for you?’ Yuri asks.
Lale turns back. ‘I don’t know. I have a special request.’
Yuri raises an eyebrow. ‘I might be able to help.’
‘Nylon stockings. You know, the things girls wear on their legs.’
‘I’m not a kid, Lale. I know what nylons are.’
‘Could you get me a pair?’ Lale reveals two diamonds in his hand.
Yuri takes them. ‘Give me two days. I think I can help you.’
‘Thanks, Yuri. Send my best to your father. I hope he’s feeling better soon.’
•
Lale is crossing the compound to the women’s camp when he hears the sound of an aircraft. He looks up as a small plane flies low over the compound and begins to circle back. So low that Lale can identify the symbol of the United States Air Force.
A prisoner shouts out, ‘It’s the Americans! The Americans are here!’
Everyone looks up. A few people start jumping up and down, waving their arms in the air. Lale looks over at the towers surrounding the compound and notices the guards on full alert, training their rifles down into the compound where the men and women are making a commotion. Some of them are simply waving to get the attention of the pilot, many others are pointing towards the crematoria and screaming, ‘Drop the bombs. Drop the bombs!’ Lale considers joining in as the plane flies over a second time and circles for a third pass. Several prisoners run towards the crematoria, pointing, desperate to get their message across. ‘Drop the bombs. Drop the bombs!’
On its third pass over Birkenau the plane gains height and flies off. The prisoners continue to shout. Many drop to their knees, devastated that their cries have been ignored. Lale begins to back up against a nearby building. Only just in time. Bullets rain down from the towers onto those in the compound, hitting dozens of people too slow to move to safety.
Faced with the trigger-happy guards, Lale decides against organising to see Gita. Instead, he goes back to his block, where he is greeted by wailing and crying. The women cradle young boys and girls who have suffered bullet wounds.
