Let me tell you

Sam was called Szmulek at home and was born in Lodz, Poland in 1929. He lived with his parents and older brother Srulek and sister Sureh. They were a poor working family, but they were happy.

Sam was 10 when the war broke out. The family were forced out of their apartment and, over the coming weeks, he witnessed Jews being beaten and killed. In February 1940, the Lodz Ghetto was established where Sam and his family were allocated a small one-bedroomed apartment. He and his brother were sent to work in a leather factory each day and given very little food.

In April 1942, when Sam was 12, his father died of typhus. Later, in June 1944, the ghetto was liquidated and Sam and the rest of his family were sent to Auschwitz-Birkenau on cattle wagons, a horrendous and terrible journey. His mother and sister were taken to the women’s camp. He managed to stay with his brother at first, until Srulek was transported to a labour camp in Gleiwitz and Sam was left alone.

Sam was given a number tattoo on his arm and set to work. He experienced the most horrific conditions and lived under the constant threat of being sent to the gas chambers. In January 1945, just before the camp was liberated, he was forced on a march away from Auschwitz. He eventually arrived in Melk prison camp and then went to Mathausen, where the conditions were the worst of all.

Eventually, in May 1945, the camp was liberated by the Americans and Sam was taken to a hospital to recover. Sam’s aunt was living in the UK and managed to find him and help him come to Manchester. He arrived in 1947.

Sam became an entrepreneur in the handbag trade. He met Sheila and they got married in 1958. Sam has two sons and two grandchildren.

“Food became very scarce. We had to queue up and every time I got near the shop they would pull me out of the queue and say ‘You Jews have to wait until we have all been served.”

“We were packed like herrings; lying on top of one another for several days without any food or water.”

“You know there are people now, only seventy years later, who deny the Holocaust. Imagine one hundred years, one hundred and fifty or two hundred years on– it would be forgotten altogether. So, the generations have to ask the questions and have to carry it on. They must carry it on!”

Let me tell you

Cookie use