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                        Technique and Operation
                            of the Gas Chambers ©
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I have taken from Dr Nyiszli’s book only Chapter Seven, describing the gassing of a convoy at Krematorium II, this being one of the best-known accounts. Many details can easily be verified using contemporary documents. The description is entirely accurate, EXCEPT for certain FIGURES which are very WRONG indeed. 

I must admit that the stark contrast between the general precision of the account and enormous errors that it contains led me to think at first that the translator [into French], Mr Tibère KREMER, must be at fault.

Through the intermediary of Serge Klarsfeld, the Yad Vashem provided me with a photocopy of the first Hungarian edition of 1946, apparently published by the author. I checked in the original text to make sure the figures were correct. This enabled me to see that the translator was definitely not at fault. The fact remains, however, that certain figures in the original are quite wrong. Unless and until any further information comes to light, we can but attribute these errors to Dr Nyiszli.
Extract from Dr Miklos Nyiszli's book:
Auschwitz: a Doctor’s eyewitness account,
Translated by Tibère Kremer and Richard Seaver, London: Granada Books, 1973 
  The strident whistle of a train was heard coming from the direction of the unloading platform. It was still very early. I approached my window(1), from which I had a direct view onto the tracks, and saw a very long train. A few seconds later the doors slid open and the box cars spilled out thousands upon thousands of the chosen people of Israel. Line up and selection took scarcely half an hour(2). The left-hand(3) column moved slowly away.  

Orders rang out, and the sound of rapid footsteps reached my room. The sounds came from the furnace rooms of the crematorium: they were preparing to welcome the new convoy The throb of motors began. They had just set the enormous ventilators going to fan the flames, in order to obtain the desired degree in the ovens. Fifteen ventilators were going simultaneously, one beside each oven (4). The incineration room was about 500 feet long(5). It was a bright, whitewashed room with a concrete floor and barred windows. Each of these fifteen ovens was housed in a red brick structure(6}. Immense iron doors, well-polished and gleaming, ominously lined the length of the wall. In five or six minutes the convoy reached the gate, whose swing-doors(7) opened inwards. Five abreast(8), the group entered the courtyard; it was the moment about which the outside world knew nothing, for anyone who might have known something about it after having travelled the path of his destiny — the 300 yards(9) separating that spot from the ramp— had never returned to tell the tale. It was one of the crematoriums which awaited those who had been selected for the left-hand column. And not, as the German lie had made the right-hand column suppose in order to allay their anxiety, a camp for the sick and children, where the infirm cared for the little ones.

They advanced with slow, weary steps. The children's eyes were heavy with sleep and they clung to their mothers' clothes. For the most part the babies were carried in their fathers' arms, or else wheeled in their carriages. The SS guards remained before the crematorium doors, where a poster announced: “Entrance is strictly forbidden to all who have no business here, including the SS”

The deportees were quick to notice the water faucets(10), used for sprinkling the grass, that were arranged about the courtyard. They began to take pots and pans from their luggage, and broke ranks, pushing and shoving in an effort to get near the faucets and fill their containers. That they were impatient was not astonishing: for the past five days they had had nothing to drink. If ever they had found a little water, it had been stagnant and had not quenched their thirst The SS guards who received the convoys were used to the scene. They waited patiently till each had quenched his thirst and filled his container. In any case, the guards knew that as long as they had not drunk there would be no getting them back into line. Slowly they began to re-form their ranks. Then they advanced for about 100 yards(11) along a cinder path edged with green grass (12) to an iron ramp(13) from which 10 or 12 concrete steps(14) led underground to an enormous room dominated by a large sign in German, French, Greek and Hungarian: “Baths and Disinfecting Room”. The sign was reassuring, and allayed the misgivings or fears of even the most suspicious among them. They went down the stairs almost gaily. .

The room into which the convoy proceeded was about 200 yards long(15): Its walls were whitewashed and it was brightly lit. In the middle of the room, rows of columns(16). Around the columns, as well as along the walls, benches. Above the benches, numbered coat hangers. Numerous signs in several languages drew everyone's attention to the necessity of tying his clothes and shoes together. Especially that they not forget the number of his coat hanger, in order to avoid all useless confusion upon his return from the bath.

“That’s a really German order,” commented those who had long been inclined to admire the Germans.

They were right. As a matter of fact, it was for the sake of order that these measures had been taken, so that the thousands of pairs of good shoes sorely needed by the Third Reich would not get mixed up. The same for the clothes, so that the population of bombed cities could easily make use of them.

There were 3000 people(17) in the room: men, women and children. Some of the soldiers arrived and announced that everyone must be completely undressed within ten minutes (18). The aged, grandfathers and grandmothers; the children; wives and husbamds; all were struck dumb with surprise. Modest women and girls looked at each other questioningly. Perhaps they had not exactly understood the German words. They did not have long to think about it, however, for the order resounded again, this time in a louder, more menacing tone. They were uneasy; their dignity rebelled;but with the resignation peculiar to their race, having leamed that anything went as far as they were concemed, they slowly began to undress. The aged the paralyzed, the mad were helped by a Sonderkommando squad sent for that purpose. In ten minutes all were completely naked, their clothes hung on the pegs, their shoes attached together by the laces. As for the number on each clothes hanger, it had been carefully noted.

Making his way through are crowd an SS opened the swing doors of the large oaken gate at the end of the room(19), The crowd flowed through it into another(20) equally well-lighted room. This second room was the same size as the first(21), but neither benches nor pegs were to be seen. In the center of the room, at thirty-yard intervals(22), columns rose from the concrete floor to the ceiling. They were not supporting columns, but square sheet-iron pipes(22) the sides of which contained numerous perforations, like a wire lattice.

Everyone was inside. A hoarse command rang out: “SS and Sonderkommando leave the room.” They obeyed and counted off. The doors swung shut and from without the lights were switched off.

At that very instant the sound of a car was heard: a deluxe model(23), furnished by the International Red Cross. An SS officer and a SDG (Sanitätsdienstgefreiter(24): Deputy Health Service Officer) stepped out of the car. The Deputy Health Officer held four(25) green sheet-iron cannisters. He advanced across the grass(26), where, every thirty yards(27) short concrete pipes(28) jutted up from the ground. Having donned his gas mask, he lifted the lid of the pipe, which was also made of concrete(29). He opened one of the cans and poured the contents — a mauve granulated material(30) — into the opening. [The following sentence, present in the Hungarian and French, is missing from the English translation: “The substance poured in is Zyklon or Chlorine(31). In granulated form, which gives off a gas immediately on contact with air.”] The granulated substance fell in a lump to the bottom. The gas it produced escaped through the perforations, and within a few seconds filled the room in which the deportees were stacked. Within five minutes everybody was dead.

For every convoy it was the same story. Red Cross cars brought the gas from the outside. There was never a stock(32) of it in the crematorium. The precaution was scandalous, but still more scandalous was the fact that the gas was brought in a car bearing the insignia of the International Red Cross.

In order to be certain of their business, the two gas-butchers waited another free minutes. Then they lighted cigarettes and drove off in their car. They had just killed 3000 innocents(33).

Twenty minutes later, the electric ventilators were set going(34) in order to evacuate the gas. The doors opened the trucks arrived and a Sonderkommando squad loaded the clothing and the shoes separately. They were gong to disinfect(35) them. This time it was a case of real disinfection. Later they would transport them by rail to various parts of the country.

The ventilators, patented “Exhator”(36) system quickly evacuated the gas from the room, but in the crannies between the dead and the cracks of the doors small pockets of it always remained. Even two hours later it caused a suffocating cough. For that reason the Sonderkommando which first moved into the room was equipped with gas masks(37). Once again the room was powerfully lighted, revealing a horrible spectacle.

The bodies were not lying here and there throughout the room, but piled in a mass to the ceiling. The reason for this was that the gas first inundated the lower layers of air and rose but slowly towards the ceiling. This forced the victims to trample one another in a frantic effort to escape the gas. Yet a few feet higher up the gas reached them. What a struggle for life there must have been! Nevertheless it was merely a matter of two or three minutes' respite. If they had been able to think about what they were doing, they would have realised they were trampling their own children, their wives, their relatives. But they couldn't think Their gestures were no more than the reflexes of the instinct of self-preservation. I noticed that the bodies of the women, the children and the aged were at the bottom of the pile: at the top, the strongest. Their bodies, which were covered with scratches and bruises from the struggle which had set them against each other, were often interlaced. Blood oozed from their noses and mouths; their faces, bloated and blue, were so deformed as to be almost unrecogizable. Nevertheless, some of the Sonderkommando often did recognize their kin. The encounter was not easy, and I dreaded it for myself. I had no reason to be here, and yet I had came down among the dead. I felt it my duty to my people and to the entire world to be able to give an accurate account of what I had seen if ever, by some miraculous whim of fate, I should escape.

The Sonderkommando squad, outfitted with large rubber boots, lined up round the hill of bodies and flooded it with powerful jets of water(38). This was necessary because the final act of those who die by drowning or by gas in an involuntary defecation. Each body was befouled and had to be washed. Once the “bathing” of the dead was finished — a job the Sonderkommando carried out by a voluntary act of impersonalization and in a state of profound distress — the separation of the welter ofbodies began. It was a difficult job. They knotted thongs around the wrists(39), which were clenched in a vice-like grip, and with these thongs they dragged the slippery bodies to the elevators(40) in the next room. Four(41) good- sized elevators were functioning. They loaded twenty to twenty-five corpses to an elevator(42). The ring of a bell was the signal that the load was ready to ascend. The elevator stopped at the crematorium’s incineration room(43), where large sliding doors opened autotomatically(44). The kommando who operated the trailers [The French translation is better here: “the towing squad”] was ready and waiting. Again straps were fixed to the wrists of the dead, and they were dragged out onto specialty constructed chutes which unloaded them in front of the furnaces(45).  

The bodies lay in close ranks: the old, the young, the children. Blood oozed from their noses and mouths, as well as from their skin — abraded by the rubbing — and mixed with the water running in the gutters set in the concrete floor.

Then a new phase of the exploitation and utilization of Jewish bodies took place. The Third Reich had already taken their clothes and shoes. Hair(46) was also a precious material, due to the fact that it expands and contracts uniformly, no matter what the humidity of the air. Human hair was often used in delayed action bombs(47), where its particular qualities made it highly useful for detonating purposes. So they shaved the dead.

But that was not all. According to the slogans(48) the Germans paraded and shouted to everyone at home and abroad, the Third Reich was not based on the “gold standard”, but on the "work standard”. [The following sentence appears to be in the English verson ony] Maybe they meant they had to work harder for their gold than most countries did. At any rate, the dead were next sent to the “tooth-pulling” kommando, wich was stationed in front of the ovens(49). Consisting of eight men, this kommando equipped its members with two tools, or, if you like, two instruments. In one hard a lever, and in the other a pair of pliers for extracting the teeth. The dead lay on their backs; the kommando pried open the contracted jaw with his lever; then, with his pliers, he extracted or broke off, all gold teeth, as well as any gold bridgework and fillings. All members of the kommando were fine stomatologists and dental surgeons. When Dr Mengele had called for candidates capable of performing the delicate work of stomatology and dental surgery, they had volunteered in good faith, firmly beleiving they would be allowed to exercise their profession in the camp. Exactly as I had done.

The gold teeth were collected in buckets filled with an acid which burned off  
Technique and operation
of the gas chambers

Jean-Claude Pressac
© 1989, The Beate Klarsfeld Foundation
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