How is this passage significant: “Is this you father?” asked the Blockälteste.
“Yes”
“He is very sick.”
“The doctor won’t do anything for him.”
He looked me straight in the eye:
“The doctor cannot do anything more for him. And neither can you.”
He placed his big, hairy hand on my shoulder and added:
“Listen to me, kid.” Don’t forget that you are in a concentration camp. In this place, it is every man for himself, and you cannot think of others. Not even your father. In this place, there is no such thing as father, brother, friend. Each of us lives and dies alone. Let me give you good advice: stop giving your ration of bread and soup to your old father. You cannot help him anymore. And you are hurting yourself. In fact, you should be getting his rations…”
I listened to him without interrupting. He was right, I thought deep down, not daring to admit to myself. Too late to save your old father...You could have two rations of bread, two rations of soup…
It was only a fraction of a second, but it left me feeling guilty. I ran to get some soup and brought it to my father. But he did not want it. All he wanted was water.