Auschwitz Through the 'Eyes' of a Tree

In the new April 2013 issue of Reader's Digest, there is an article, "What the tree saw," that begins, "From historical horrors, to painted panoramas, trees have stood watch...here they break their silence."

These imaginative and compelling entries, all told from the perspective of trees as witnesses, include one oak tree that stands just beyond the gate into Auschwitz:

"As any carpenter will tell you, my wood is dense.  I can be split, but I don't give way easily.  And I haven't fallen apart.  I'm a hardy Polish oak tree accustomed to harsh winters.  My unhappy fate is that I grow at the entrance to a Polish army barracks.  After the German invasion, in September 1939, I thought the barracks had been abandoned.  But I was wrong.  On May 1, 1940, before sunup, I saw Commandant Rudolf Hoess arrive, flanked by SS guards.  On his face was the satisfied smile of the conqueror.  A rictus grin (gaping grin, grimace from Old Church Slavi 'rogu' = mockery) to make my sap run cold.  Less than two months later, the first victims passed beneath my branches:  728 Polish political detainees.
Other prisoners poured in, mostly Jews, from the four corners of Europe.  "Juden" (Jew)--I'd never heard that word before.  And I had never heard the music of Johann Strauss.  Each morning, the most able-bodied prisoners marched off to work past an orchestra of fellow inmates forced to play joyful tunes.  In the evening, the workers returned exhausted, carrying those who had died, and were marched back into the strains of "The Blue Danube."  My bark has healing properties as an astringent, but what use would that have been?  For a long time, I breathed the gray smoke from the crematoriums.  Ever since, I've lived on ground filled with the ashes of 1,100,000 people.  I might be the only tree that has ever wanted to run away."

This piece appears on page 112 of the April, 2013 Reader's Digest.  The picture below shows the tree.