‘I saw antisemitism everywhere’: I don’t think my memories of the Holocaust will ever go away

No matter how many years pass, the memory of my experiences in the Holocaust never fades; but by sharing my testimony, by educating the next generation, I am empowered

Seventy-eight years have now passed since liberation, but no matter how much time passes, the memory of my experiences in the Holocaust never fade. My name is Susan Pollack, and I am a Holocaust survivor.

I was born Zsuzsanna Blau in 1930 in Felsogod, Hungary. I had one brother, Laci, and a large extended family who we regularly spent time with and who taught me how to cook wonderful Hungarian dishes.

From a young age, I became aware of rising antisemitism in my hometown. From 1938, antisemitic laws came into effect and restricted the lives of my family and me. My uncle was murdered by fascists, but his attacker was only given a two-year sentence. My brother wanted to study at university, but a new law restricted the number of Jewish students in higher education institutions at a maximum of 2 per cent.

After the outbreak of the Second World War in September 1939, I began to see antisemitism everywhere. There was anti-Jewish graffiti on walls and shop windows, and antisemitic propaganda on the radio. Physical attacks also became more common, and Laci was badly beaten at a scout meeting.

In March 1944, the situation deteriorated further when the Nazis invaded Hungary and we all had to wear a yellow Star of David. A letter was then issued for all Jewish fathers to attend a meeting to discuss the welfare of their families. My father attended this meeting, but it was a trick, and all the men were herded into waiting lorries and taken to a concentration camp. I never saw my father again and 77 years later I still don’t know where he died.

Within two months from May 1944, almost all Hungarian Jews were deported. When my family and I were ordered to leave our home, we still had some hope that we would be resettled, and I took my portable sewing machine with me. But we were sent to a ghetto in Vac, on to an internment camp, and, in late May, sent by cattle truck to Auschwitz-Birkenau.

After we arrived, all of us on the transport were forced down onto the unloading ramps. We were told to leave our luggage and that it would be returned to us shortly. The soldiers yelled for men to stand on one side and women and children to stand on the other, before everyone was made to shuffle past the camp doctors. I was told to join a group made up of the young and abled, my mother to a different group of elderly prisoners. I did not know then but very shortly after this selection, my mother and the rest of her group were sent directly to the gas chambers and murdered.

As for me, I remained in Auschwitz-Birkenau, becoming a slave labourer. We were forced to work and live on the tiniest amount of food possible, in the most cramped and unhygienic conditions and with death all around us. I was there for 10 weeks before being sent to Guben in Germany to work in an armaments factory.

As the Allies continued to advance, the Nazis ordered us on a death march towards Bergen-Belsen. Anyone who was too weak to keep up were shot by the guards; many died from starvation and disease. Then suddenly, on 15 April 1945, I, along with my fellow prisoners, was liberated by the British army.

I remember the day so well. I could hear the cries of “we’ve been liberated” from all across the camp – but I couldn’t move to see what it meant; I was too weak. But I remember, so clearly: a hand reaching for mine and grasping it tightly, pulling me up. It was the hand of a British soldier.

My brother Laci was the only other member of my family to survive. He returned to our parents’ house in Hungary, but I was unable to visit him there for 20 years after the end of the war.

In later life, I’ve made it my mission to share my testimony with anyone who will listen. I have spoken to thousands of young people and adults to ensure the memory of my family and what happened to us is never forgotten. My past is a warning to all ordinary people of the dangers of hate when left unchecked. My family were an ordinary family, and our worlds were torn apart by ordinary men.

No matter how many years pass, the memory of my experiences in the Holocaust never fades. But by sharing my testimony, by educating the next generation, I am empowered, and I can keep my family’s legacy alive. It brings me hope.

Susan Pollack works with the Holocaust Educational Trust to share her testimony