The Man Who Broke Into Auschwitz: A True Story of World War II

by Denis Avey

He was a Dutch Jew and I knew him as Hans. With that simple exchange between the two of us I had given away the protection of the Geneva Convention: I’d given my uniform, my lifeline, my best chance of surviving that dreadful place, to another man. From now on, wearing his clothes, I would be treated the way he had been treated. If I was caught, the guards would have shot me out of hand as an imposter. No question at all. It was the middle of 1944 when I entered Auschwitz III of my own free will.

When you speak a language, you think that language. My mother, bless her soul, spoke the language of home.

But you do what you have to do, to get through. The mind is a powerful thing. It can take you through walls.

I recognised these poor wraiths as my fellow beings though much that marks humanity had been stripped from them.

I was well liked but regarded as a bit unusual. It was a fair description then, I still wasn’t myself.

I hate being cold or wasting food.

Then in June 1966 a letter arrived with a cheque offering compensation for what the attached slip called ‘Nazi persecution.’ It was made out for the grand total of £204 and signed by the Paymaster General. I was appalled and disgusted. We never thought the government had treated us right and this just confirmed it.

No one can claim a monopoly on another’s salvation;