“It’s a miracle I lived, and what I and others in the slave labor camp endured is still vivid in my mind.” He taps his temple. “One of the first things I noticed was what you youngsters call zombies. They were people so thin I couldn’t comprehend how they were still standing. It terrified me.

“We were pushed, slapped, and beaten almost around the clock. We were told that if we attempted to escape, we would be shot dead on sight. If we missed roll call, we would be found and shot. If we sat down, we would be shot. The list of infractions went on and on. To show they meant it, an SS officer walked over to a British POW and, for no reason at all, shot him in the head.

“They took all my clothes, my boots. I was naked as the day I was born. They shaved my head. This is what they did to all new prisoners. Instead of going to the gas chambers as many did after selection, the rest of us were forced to stand under a cold shower, then forced to stand barefoot in the cold for several hours. The rags they gave me to wear had a number and an inverted red triangle, the symbol used for political prisoners. We were then marched to our barracks. Three of us shared a wooden plank bunk. The other two were prisoners of war, airmen from France and Britain. We had to sleep together curled on our sides in order to fit. Take a moment to think about your beds. Comfortable, I hope.

“Two days after I arrived, I had my first bite of food. It was watery soup with a tiny piece of potato skin.” He holds up a hand, tucks his pointer finger into his thumb and narrows the gap until it’s barely visible.

“The Nazis tried to strip us of our humanity and our identities, and in the weeks that followed, I found out how hard it was to keep them.”

Lieutenant Franklin looks at Mr. Bartley, then shifts his gaze to Spencer.