I am 33 years old when my mother Annette finally is ready to tell her
story. About her growing up in France during WWII, what she calls her
first life. The life she has to forget about to be able to start a new
life in Sweden, after the Holocaust. For the first time she tells about
being forced out of a cattlewagon together with her parents in
Auschwitz, end of May 1944. How the men were forced to line up on the
platform with women and children in another row. "At the front of the
platform, behind a table, sat Dr. Joseph Mengele. When it was our turn,
he hesitated for a few seconds. He did not seem to be able to make up
his mind. Perhaps we were both to go either this or that way. I did not
know, but I dared to look him in the eyes. Then he decided - sending my
mother to the left and me to the right. On my way to the right, I turned
to Mom and wanted to encourage her. I shouted: "Courage!" to Mom. I do
not really know what I was thinking then, perhaps courage to endure. And
then we parted ways. So, we separated there on the platform, forever."