After receiving a small bread ration, we lined up in rows of six to march to the main camp. I found a place at the back of the throng, where Irena hovered in my vicinity. We moved toward the gate, and I lifted a hand to my neck to feel Irena’s crucifix through my uniform, then found the skirt pocket where I’d tucked Father Kolbe’s rosary. But there was something I’d forgotten to add to that pocket.

My chess pieces.

I’d intended to bring them when I left. If I hurried, I could return to my block, grab them, and rejoin the group before anyone noticed. It wouldn’t take long.

When I turned around to enact my plan, Irena grabbed me. At the same time, another woman hesitated, and an SS man shot her in the head.

Irena dragged me a few paces forward, making it look as if I’d kept up, then released me before anyone saw us. I had no choice. That woman’s fate would be mine if I didn’t stay in line. With a final glance toward the clusters of brick and wooden buildings stretching across the grounds, where Hania and the chess pieces remained, I swallowed past a sudden heaviness in my throat and kept walking.

After joining more prisoners in the main camp, we walked a few kilometers to Rajsko, where more columns awaited us. From there, we pressed onward. The cold was merciless. I had a few layers of organized clothing beneath my uniform, but those weren’t enough to combat the blizzard that assaulted us from every angle while we trudged through its fury.

Because I was toward the back, countless rows marched ahead of me through the howling wind and snow. Even if I hadn’t been following the crowd, the trail was obvious. The longer we marched, the more people fell behind or collapsed from cold or exhaustion. New prisoners and old, friends and strangers. And they were all shot. Some begged for their lives; others didn’t bother. Dead bodies littered both sides of the road, and red blood soaked into the snow. One body stood out to me as I marched by and noticed short, familiar red hair. Janina.

When the bread ration was gone, we didn’t receive anything else. Ahead of me, a man spent all day consuming handfuls of snow, plants, rotten vegetables, anything he could find alongside the road, and slipping morsels of organized food into his mouth. He hid his resources from guards and prisoners alike, eating with a ravenousness that I recognized. I had miscellaneous items tucked inside my secret uniform pockets, but I’d left my organized food with Hania and Izaak. I combatted piercing hunger in silence.