The Auschwitz Photographer by Luca Crippa & Maurizio Onnis

Author:Luca Crippa & Maurizio Onnis [Crippa, Luca & Onnis, Maurizio]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473577855

Walter came over in the afternoon. He was tense and wanted information about the photographs.

‘They’ll all be ready by five o’clock,’ Brasse assured him.

At that moment the pictures were hanging up to dry. Naked bodies, shivering, exposed to the cold, emaciated, made still more defenceless by illness. And covered in spots. Some of the sores had been photographed close up, and they were oozing pus.

‘Sickening!’ Walter spat. He was disgusted and angry. And clearly afraid.

Brasse made no comment, but Walter didn’t hold back.

‘We won’t be able to treat many of them, but that’s not the point. This is an illness you can catch just by standing near the prisoners. My colleagues are keeping their distance, but being careful isn’t enough.’

Brasse didn’t allow any emotion to show on his face, but he reflected on how strange it was that the prisoners had suddenly – without meaning to and without lifting a finger – become a mortal danger to their jailers.

Then he thought of Baśka. He saw her taking care of the emaciated girls and remembered her eyes, full of despair. He realized that she was in danger.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ Walter was staring at him, annoyed because Brasse wasn’t listening to him.

Brasse stiffened. ‘Nothing, Herr Oberscharführer.’

‘Are you feeling sympathy for those people, or are you worried about what might happen to our collaborators?’

Brasse could lie, but Walter would realize. He was just there, a few centimetres away, gazing at him with impatience and hatred.

‘I’m afraid for myself, as we all are,’ he replied, looking down as though confessing to a crime.

The German was satisfied with this.

‘Quite. For the prisoners, death is a liberation. But as for us, dear Brasse, as for us,’ he said with emphasis, forcing Brasse to meet his eye, ‘we must not die like them. We are intended for a different destiny, and you believe that too. So we will limit, as far as we can, any visits to prisoners living in poor sanitary conditions …’

Brasse thought immediately of the women in Birkenau who weren’t allowed to wash. Of all the women.

‘In the meantime, let’s have confidence in our excellent doctors. Go on with your work, Herr Brasse, and don’t be afraid. If you do fall ill, you will receive the best of care.’

As he said this, he placed a friendly hand on Brasse’s shoulder. Brasse didn’t pull away, but simply lowered his eyes.

At five o’clock Maltz appeared. He hadn’t been seen all day. He took the photographs and tucked them into an envelope labelled with the name of the illness. He made sure to touch them only with the tips of his fingers, as though contagion could be spread through the pictures themselves. Brasse and Franek watched him, respectful and expressionless. He suddenly looked up at them with a nasty, pleased smile.

‘Do you want some good news?’

They didn’t know what to say and the kapo made the most of their surprise.

‘Guess who’s come down with the fever?’

They waited in suspense. They couldn’t imagine who the kapo could hate so much that he’d be pleased to see them fall ill.

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