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Agnes Sassoon Remembers Bergen Belsen

"I Can Still Remember the Piles of Corpses"

Agnes Sassoon was pulled out of school in Budapest one day and sent on her journey through the Nazi concentration camp system. It ended in Bergen Belsen -- she arrived in an ambulance after being shot on the road from Dachau.

SPIEGEL: Ms. Sassoon, how did you come to be separated from your parents?

Sassoon: In October 1944 I was attending a Jewish school in Budapest which was housed in a synagogue. One day, as we came out after lessons, we saw lots of big trucks standing in front of the school. They belonged to the Arrow Cross Party, who were the Hungarian Nazis. The men ushered us on to the trucks, children on one, the young women, mothers and teachers onto another. And then all of a sudden a tall, beautiful woman, called Aranka, whom I didn’t know, took me by the hand and whispered to me that I should say I belonged to her. That’s how I ended up together with her in the adults’ truck. That was the last anyone ever heard of all the children on the other vehicle.

SPIEGEL: Were your parents told?

Sassoon: Of course they weren’t. We were forced to march for weeks. Sometimes we were transported in vehicles, other times we were put in cattle carts. It was terrible and there were no toilets. It was a miracle we didn’t all get typhus. It was freezing and I saw the old and the weak die right in front of my eyes. Aranka also started to look more and more wretched and one day we were separated from each other.

SPIEGEL: Can you remember arriving in Dachau?

Sassoon: Oh yes, yes. Even before entering the gates we saw a man who looked so miserable and starved that it is impossible to describe him. And there were these barking dogs everywhere, with men shouting “Go! Go! Go!” It was terrible. Oh, and then the whole entrance procedure began: we were disinfected and our heads were shaved. They put me in a big wooden tub filled with tepid water. The whole time the guards kept randomly hitting the prisoners. Somehow I found myself panicking and started screaming. I had only just turned 11 years-old so I didn’t understand what was going on. A tall pale and starved-looking boy with big eyes came up to and said: “You mustn’t scream. They will kill you.” So I went quiet. Later we became friends. His name was Alex. The guards just kept shouting the whole time. They behaved like animals.

SPIEGEL: Do you remember any Germans who showed any sympathy to what you were going through?

Sassoon: No. In fact quite the opposite. Once I was working in a pig stall in Bavaria. One day I was watching the chickens being fed and I quickly put a few bits of grain in my mouth. The farmer’s wife saw it and straight away told the soldiers. One soldier ripped my mouth open and really brutally tried to get the grain out.

SPIEGEL: That was during the winter of 1944-45. Where were you when the war ended?

Sassoon: In Bergen- Belsen. I don’t remember anymore how and when I was taken there. I think we had to walk the whole way. One day, as we were marching along in line, I suddenly keeled over with exhaustion. A soldier came up to me, seemingly really friendly, and said: “Come along, little one. Sit down and rest.” I had barely sat down on the side of the road for a minute and he shot me.

SPIEGEL: Shot you, just like that?

Sassoon: Yes. Maybe he thought I was too weak. But I just couldn’t go on any more. I passed out and only came to when the next group of marchers came by and discovered me. They were French prisoners of war. The soldier had shot me in the leg and I was bleeding. The French prisoners wanted to carry me, but at first the Germans wouldn’t allow it. Then they gave in and I was laid down in an ambulance and given emergency treatment. You can see the scar here. It was never really dealt with properly.

SPIEGEL: So they then brought you to Bergen-Belsen in an ambulance?

Sassoon: Yes. Although it is all very hazy in my memory, as I was suffering a lot of pain. I can still remember the piles of corpses, the stink and the smell of burning. Everything was in the process of falling apart.

SPIEGEL: How did the German prison guards act?

Sassoon: Brutally. One time I found a potato and wanted to bake it in the ashes of a fire. A female prison guard saw me and told me very kindly to put my hand nearer the fire so that I could warm myself. She was a very impressive. A tall, blue-eyed woman. I can still picture her beautiful white teeth. Suddenly she slammed her boot down on my small hand into the fire. My fingers were crushed and all the skin was burnt. A horrific pain shot through my body. People told me later that this must have been the infamous Irma Grese. I didn’t know women could be so cruel.

Interview conducted by Martin Doerry