The German doctors used to come about twelve o'clock. They would look over the sick who had checked into the hospital that morning, and then sign the so called beffkarte, which amounted to a permit to remain there for a day. Later, we were on our own. We cleaned and prepared dressings for the evening when the komando returned from work. At such times we felt a little less tense.
We were sitting in a little room in the infirmary when Marusia yelled, "Achtung!" We jumped up quickly and ran inside. We were standing at attention when Mengele walked in with a little gypsy boy who may have been about four years old. The little boy was a beauty. He was dressed in a gorgeous white uniform, consisting of long pants with an ironed-in crease, a jacket adorned with gold buttons, a man's shirt, and a tie. We stared, as if bewitched, at that beautiful child. It was clear that Mengele was pleased to see us thus enchanted. He placed a chair in the middle of the infirmary and sat down in it, keeping the little gypsy squeezed between his knees. The little boy understood German.
"Show them how you dance the kozak," he said. The little one danced the kozak while Mengele clapped his hands in rhythm. The little one kicked up his heels while maintaining a sitting position. He was astonishing. "Now sing a song." The little one sang a haunting gypsy melody.
We continued to stand at attention while the little one was showing off in front of Mengele. You could see that Mengele liked him. He hugged him and kissed him. "That was beautiful. Here is something for the performance," he said, taking a box of chocolates out of his pocket. They left. We looked at each other, not understanding why Mengele brought the boy to us. Why did he want to exhibit the child's talent to us?
"I am sure that Mengele will kill him soon" Marusia said.
We felt a cold chill.
The whole summer Mengele paraded around the camp with the little gypsy, who was always dressed in white. Even when the se-