eliewiesel-nightfulltext_3_26_2014_3_23_04_pm

THE CAMP looked as though it had been through an epidemic:
empty and dead. Only a few "well-dressed" inmates
were wandering between the blocks.
Of course, we first had to pass through the showers. The head
of the camp joined us there. He was a stocky man with big shoulders,
the neck of a bull, thick lips, and curly hair. He gave an impression
of kindness. From time to time, a smile would linger in
his gray-blue eyes. Our convoy included a few ten- and twelveyear-olds.
The officer took an interest in them and gave orders to
bring them food.
We were given new clothing and settled in two tents. We were
to wait there until we could be incorporated into work Kommandos.
Then we would be assigned to a block.
In the evening, the Kommandos returned from the work
yards. Roll call. We began looking for people we knew, asking the
"veterans" which work Kommandos were the best and which
block one should try to enter. All the inmates agreed:
"Buna is a very good camp. One can hold one's own here. The
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