I am a supporter of the American Society for Yad Vashem (who recently moved their headquarters from New York City to LA). Every other month, they send me their newsletter, Martyrdom and Resistance, which always has stories of individuals who survived the Holocaust (and some who didn’t), and other stories of the good works that Yad Vashem and its supporters are doing to make sure that the Holocaust is never forgotten. In the November-December 2019 issue is the story of Edith Fox, in her own words. It seems that for many years she kept her story secret, but when she turned 90 years old, she decided she had to get her story out, because she saw the today’s children are not being taught about the Holocaust and other lessons of World War II. Here are some highlights of her story.

I was born in the town of Teplice, in Czechoslovakia. My mother was married to my father, Mano Fogel, who worked at a lumber yard. My mother had a fabric store; she was always a businesswoman. I was the youngest in my family. I had five brothers.

I was 13 years old when the war started. In 1941, Nazis came and rounded us up; my parents and my three other brothers. They told us they would take us to Poland. They told us we would get homes and businesses for free. Instead, when we got to Poland, they made us run; if you couldn’t run, you’d get killed. They killed my mother in front of me. She couldn’t run fast enough. I told the Nazis to kill me too, but they said no, you are going to work.

They took me and my friend, Leah, to the ghetto in Stanislau, in Poland, where all the toddlers of Jewish families were housed. We had to wash the diapers of 300 babies. When we found out that the Nazis were coming to take us all, we asked the adults caring for the children if we could go into the bunker with them to be safe, but there was no room, so Leah and I went into the cellar where the furnace was and climbed into the chimney to hide.

The Nazis came and threw all the children into trucks like trash. Then they killed everyone in the bunker.

…

Leah wanted to go home, but she was killed when she tried. I was recaptured and they took me to the Auschwitz concentration camp and I was all alone there. One day they came and took us — 50 girls. We thought that they were going to kill us, but instead they got us to Gleiwitz near Auschwitz and put us to work at an ammunition factory. We had to stand in line for eight hours and were not allowed to talk to anybody. I worked there for three years or so.

While I was in Auschwitz, I saw too many things. Some people couldn’t take it anymore, and ran into the electrified fence to kill themselves. They just went up in flames. I met a boy who was watching the crematorium where he had seen his parents die. He was hoping they would come and bomb the place.

As the war was ending, Nazis put all of us who were strong enough and could still run fast-the young ones-on a freight train with open boxcars without water, without food. They wanted us to die. Three days I was on that train. People were dying; stepping on everybody, lying on the floors. So I jumped off the train. I jumped at night when the train was moving slowly. I didn’t want people to step on me. I kept on running and running. I was in Mala Pevnost,: Czech territory. I saw a person in a Czech uniform…but it was a Nazi in a Czech uniform.

He was taking me to Theresienstadt Camp. There were seven girls with me. When they were taking us, they put us in a house and were going to rape us. The first girl, a 13-year-old, started screaming and fighting them, so they pushed everyone else out. They killed the girl who was screaming and put up such a fight. They shot her. She saved the rest of us.

Nazis wanted to starve us, but we survived. We had nothing. The Nazis would come in and kick us in the heads and call us swine and ask us “How are you still alive?” Only one of the girls died.

The Russians liberated us on May 8 [1945]. The Russians took us to the hospitals. We couldn’t even walk. At the hospital, they tried to help us get jobs. I said I wanted to go to America. I didn’t want to go home, there was no one there.

First, I came to New York City. I said I will go to Buffalo because I want to fix my nose. It was all flat [from jumping off the train]. They fixed my nose in Buffalo.

Two years later, I met my husband, Joseph Fox. We raised three children in Buffalo. Then we moved to Tucson. We have six grandchildren and four great-grandchildren.

I wanted to tell my story because I’m afraid people are forgetting. We can never forget what happened. We can never let it happen again.