MME. VAILLANT-COUTURIER: Forty-nine. In the convoy there were some
elderly women. I remember one who was 67 and had been arrested because
she had in her kitchen the shotgun of her husband, which she kept as a
souvenir and had not declared because she did not want it to be taken
from her. She died after a fortnight at Auschwitz.
THE PRESIDENT: When you said only 49 came back, did you mean only 49
arrived at Auschwitz.
MME. VAILLANT-COUTURIER: No, only 49 came back to France.
There were also cripples, among them a singer who had only one leg. She
was taken out and gassed at Auschwitz. There was also a young girl of
16, a college girl, Claudine Guérin; she also died at Auschwitz. There
were also two women who had been acquitted by the German military
tribunal, Marie Alonzo and Marie-Thérèse Fleuri; they died at Auschwitz.
It was a terrible journey. We were 60 in a car and we were given no food
or drink during the journey. At the various stopping places we asked the
Lorraine soldiers of the Wehrmacht who were guarding us whether we would
arrive soon; and they replied, “If you knew where you are going you
would not be in a hurry to get there.”
We arrived at Auschwitz at dawn. The seals on our cars were broken, and
we were driven out by blows with the butt end of a rifle, and taken to
the Birkenau Camp, a section of the Auschwitz Camp. It is situated in
the middle of a great plain, which was frozen in the month of January.
During this part of the journey we had to drag our luggage. As we passed
through the door we knew only too well how slender our chances were that
we would come out again, for we had already met columns of living
skeletons going to work; and as we entered we sang “The Marseillaise” to
keep up our courage.
We were led to a large shed, then to the disinfecting station. There our
heads were shaved and our registration numbers were tattooed on the left
forearm. Then we were taken into a large room for a steam bath and a
cold shower. In spite of the fact that we were naked, all this took
place in the presence of SS men and women. We were then given clothing
which was soiled and torn, a cotton dress and jacket of the same
material.
As all this had taken several hours, we saw from the windows of the
block where we were, the camp of the men; and toward the evening an
orchestra came in. It was snowing and we wondered why they were playing
music. We then saw that the camp foremen were returning to the camp.
Each foreman was followed by men who were carrying the dead. As they
could hardly drag themselves along, every time they stumbled they were
put on their feet again by being kicked or by blows with the butt end of
a rifle.
After that we were taken to the block where we were to live. There were
no beds but only bunks, measuring 2 by 2 meters, and there nine of us
had to sleep the first night without any mattress or blanket. We
remained in blocks of this kind for several months. We could not sleep
all night, because every time one of the nine moved—this happened
unceasingly because we were all ill—she disturbed the whole row.
At 3:30 in the morning the shouting of the guards woke us up, and with
cudgel blows we were driven from our bunks to go to roll call. Nothing
in the world could release us from going to the roll call; even those
who were dying had to be dragged there. We had to stand there in rows of
five until dawn, that is, 7 or 8 o’clock in the morning in winter; and
when there was a fog, sometimes until noon. Then the commandos would
start on their way to work.