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I inquired from prisoners who had been there for some time where my colleague and friend P—— had been sent. “Was he sent to the left side?” “Yes,” I replied. “Then you can see him there,” I was told. “Where?” A hand pointed to the chimney a few hundred yards off, which was sending a column of flame up into the grey sky of Poland. It dissolved into a sinister cloud of smoke. “That’s where your friend is, floating up to Heaven,” was the answer.
