The Sunflower_ On the Possibilities and - Wiesenthal, Simon copy

Of what concern were we to them? A few might later on suffer the pangs of conscience for
gawking at doomed men so callously.
We were not walking fast, because a horse and cart in front impeded us. I had time to
conjecture that among these people must be many who had once been amused at the “day
without the Jews” in the High School, and I asked myself if it was only the Nazis who had
persecuted us. Was it not just as wicked for people to look on quietly and without protest at
human beings enduring such shocking humiliation? But in their eyes were we human beings
at all?
Two days before, some newcomers at the camp had told us a very sad but also a very
characteristic story. Three Jews had been hanged in public. They were left swinging on the
gallows, and a witty fellow had fastened to each body a piece of paper bearing the words
“kosher meat.” The bystanders had split their sides with laughter at this brilliant joke, and
there was a constant stream of spectators to share in the merriment. A woman who
disapproved of the vile obscenity was promptly beaten up.
We all knew that at public executions the Nazis were at pains to encourage large
audiences. They hoped thus to terrify the populace and so stifle any further resistance. Of
course they were well aware of the anti-Jewish feeling of most onlookers. These executions
corresponded to the “bread and circuses” of ancient Rome, and the ghastly scenes staged by
the Nazis were by no means generally resented. All of us in camp were tireless in describing
every detail of the horrors we had witnessed. Some talked as if they had just got home after
a circus performance. Perhaps some of those who were now standing on the pavement and
gaping at us were people who would gape at gibbeted Jews. I heard laughter—perhaps the
show they were witnessing, a march past of kosher meat, tickled their fancy.