methodically and systematically; each group had their own attackers. The beating lasted without interruption from 8 to 12 o’clock. 4 tormentors came up to our container and lined up behind us (each of them stood on one side of the container; such a line-up allowed them to beat us accurately and systematically). When the truncheons and kicks from the heavy boots started raining on our shoulders, the container twitched; we managed to lift it and carry it towards the shed. [7] The Germans naturally followed us closely all the while, never ceasing their beating and kicking. The load we were carrying was resting on our fingers, and since the day was frosty and the weight enormous, our fingers started to go numb and soon began to fail us; at any second the container might slip from our hands and land on our feet. The Germans also noticed that, so they redoubled their blows, intensified their screams, and ordered us to carry the container on our shoulders. Again, I do not know how our aching hands managed to fulfil the order. Our destination was a huge shed, situated about 60 metres away. [8] The door leading into it, however, was much lower than the height of our shoulders combined with the vertical edge of the box, so in order to go through this door, we would have to walk over ten metres not only with our knees bent, but also in a tilted position, which, given the 600 kilos resting on our shoulders, seemed impossible. As soon as we approached the door, their beating intensified again, and a third miracle happened that day: we went through. The rest was a trifle: to go through a 1-metre-high barrier in the middle of the road and put our load on a mound of about 2 1/2 metres, which [9] we did (miracle number 5) again to the accompaniment of brutal blows and screams, standing on tiptoe and with our hands stretched up with the container resting on them (!).
I saw about a dozen such containers in the yard, and I was already so exhausted after carrying one that I did not reach up for another, so I decided to get out of this work at all costs, regardless of the risk and consequences. Towards this end, I hid behind a pillar in the middle of the shed and, when everyone left, I snuck out unnoticed and joined a group doing some lighter work—collecting metal garbage [10] in the yard. Not even fifteen minutes passed, however, when a German supervisor realised that I was suited for harder labour, so he assigned me to another group: men carrying machinery parts, buffers, and other larger and more massive loads weighing up to several dozen kg. They had to be moved from one shed to another. The distance between them was perhaps 80 metres, but on both sides of the road soldiers
