Bread After Two Weeks

After two weeks had passed since our last bread distribution, finally, one day in the late evening, the big moment we were impatiently waiting for came. Our lifesaver arrived - the bread. We were all so feeble and our very existence was a miracle. Our barrack leader distributed the bread from his living space - at the far end from us. We were hardly able to hold out, waiting our turn to hold this eagerly awaited bread.

From my third story bunk bed, I am looking to see when our turn will arrive. Now, as we are only one row behind, I can see one of the Rudolf brothers happily hurrying with bread in his hand. Just as he turned, a rain of urine sprinkled from above, straight on his dear bread. A twelve-year-old boy, one of our neighbors, finished urinating into a can. He intended to hang the can on a nail, but missed it. Thus, the whole can full of fresh urine spilled out. Mr. Rudolf stood stunned, stared upwards and then asked who did it. Death-like silence reigned for some moments. I would not turn in this poor orphan boy, nor would his relative, who also saw what happened. Soon, the guilty party plucked up enough courage and apologized - and that was the end of this episode.

Some of the inmates became so low-spirited that they ate from the same dish they used for urinating and defecation. Oh, how could they? It was disgusting even to look at it.

© David Muskal, 2001