Cibi’s first thought on entering the sauna is that they are about to be gassed. But instead of gas, jets of steam pour from the vents in the ceiling. Initially the heat is delicious – it has been a long time since either of the sisters had felt any real warmth, but soon it becomes stifling, unbearable. Girls are fainting around them. Cibi and Livi hold each other up, coughing, struggling to breathe. I was wrong, Cibi thinks. This is just another way to kill us.
Finally the vents are turned off. The steam evaporates when the doors are opened; around them lie dozens of unconscious girls on the wet concrete floor. Those still standing are ordered to drag them out of the room. Cibi and Livi each take a hand of one girl and, as gently as they can, they pull her across the floor and out of the room. Outside, the cold air immediately revives them; those still inside the room are helped by freezing jets of water which now gush out of the vents.
They are led into yet another room and Cibi gives thanks when she spies the mounds of clothes laid out on a table.
Initially delighted by the sight of underwear, shoes and socks, Cibi cannot fathom the sense behind the dresses that are now being handed out. They appear to be cocktail dresses, garments fit for nothing but parties.
‘Are you serious?’ Cibi asks the kapo in charge. ‘How can I wear this?’ She is holding up a dress made from a sheer, thin fabric, with a low cleavage and three-quarter length sleeves.
‘This is what’s been sent over. Your choice. These dresses or nothing.’
Cibi turns to Livi, who is laughing at her. She holds up the dress. ‘Anyone coming to the ball with me? Where is my prince?’ she jokes, stepping into it. Cibi bows to the other girls. Their relief at holding on to their lives for just one more day has released something, the impulse to be a silly teenager, a desire to laugh.
Livi’s dress is made from a similar material in green, but the sleeves are short, so she has also been given a cardigan.
‘May I have a cardigan too?’ Cibi asks the kapo. ‘I don’t think this dress is going to keep me very warm.’
The woman tugs on Cibi’s sleeves. ‘You already have sleeves. And anyway, you wouldn’t want to cover up such an elegant gown.’
*
After a sleepless night on the damp floors of the sauna, the girls are led back to the women’s camp, where a delegation of senior SS officers is waiting for them.
‘I am Commandant Rudolf Hoess. Tell me right now, if there is anyone here who doesn’t want to work or doesn’t know how to work, step forward and you will be put to death immediately. I can say this freely now – you all know what happens here if you don’t work or you get sick.’ Hoess pauses for effect, a tight smile on his thin lips. ‘You heard me right. There are no more secrets between us. It is your choice.’
This delegation, like the last, departs in a shiny black car. A new female SS officer steps forward.
‘I am SS Officer Grese. I am now in charge of you and this entire camp. You have made it through selection. There will be many more prisoners joining us in the coming weeks. I have ordered that girls with four-digit numbers be passed over during selections. If you work hard and stay healthy you will continue to live.’
With a start, Cibi takes in her meaning. As the camp has grown so have the numbers, and now many girls carry five digits on their arms. The girls who arrived at the same time as she and Livi have only four-digit numbers on their arms. They are almost all Slovakian and number in the hundreds; they have been there the longest of any prisoners. Cibi wonders why they should be spared, rationalising that maybe it’s because they have been in Auschwitz almost as long as the officers, kapos and guards, and therefore they are well-trained and familiar with the rules of the camp.
Livi and Cibi are exempt from the selections: a chink of hope. Now they just have to survive the rest.
The girls are ordered to squeeze into just three blocks; the remaining twenty-one will be allocated to the new arrivals. They don’t need to be told that the last block in the camp, Block 25, or the ‘Death Barracks’， has a special purpose: those who are too ill to work are housed there, and every morning its inhabitants are sent to the gas chamber.
Walking to their new block Cibi and Livi see Cilka, the young Slovakian girl who has her own room in Block 25, where she oversees the women who are bound for death.
‘You know why she’s in there, don’t you, Livi?’ says Cibi.
Livi shakes her head. She can’t imagine how or why Cilka is there, living amongst women who are bound for imminent death.