THE BIRCH TREE MEADOW
This story belongs to history.
Time will come, when we'll say:
"Once upon a time, in a planet of ashes..."
Today I say:
"Once upon a time, a 15-year-old girl..."
Will you take St. Dominique Street?
It's a one-way street.
A one-way street? Since when?
Oh... for about ten years now.
Ten years?
Hello Madam.
Hello.
Are there still musicians here?
Yes, especially American.
The hotel is famous in New York and in the West.
I reserved a room, under the name Rosenfeld.
Is room 24 free?
I have a better one, with a bath.
I'd like to have room 24.
I lived here
for many years...
a long time ago.
Suzanne!
- You're still so beautiful! - You've finally arrived.
- Where are you coming from? - New York.
- You'll stay for a while, huh? - I'll see.
I have a hard time staying still.
Do you recognize these women?
I'll take a look... Were any of them with us?
Five or six... You'll see them. Ginette, Pierette, Rachel...
- Really? - Who wants an envelope?
Her... for example?
I don't remember. After 50 years, how can I recognize them?
Come, let's have a drink.
Ladies, would you like an envelope?
When I was little, I was called "Redhead", how about you?
Not at all. In my school, redheads are very stylish!
- Well, here. - Thank you.
- What's the grand prize? - A bike, it's great!
Good luck!
Myriam...
Do you recognize me?
Ginette?
Suzanne said there'd be a surprise, but this is something else!
It's unbelievable... impossible!
Last time I saw you, you were so skinny!
A perfect crematorium specimen!
Well, I'm really here!
For 40 years I've been selling clothes at the market.
- Really? - Yes.
That's just wonderful!
It's number 999, it's worth it!
Never saw such a nice one! Give me 10 more!
Look. This jacket is beautiful.
Do you like it? Keep it... I want the bicycle.
You won a hairdryer?
Don't break it!
A radio-cassette player! What a nice present!
- A toothbrush. - A toothbrush?
- One pair of socks. - Socks!
We sure needed them before!
A hat... in fake fur, I hope.
A camera.
- Oh, I'll take a picture! - OK.
- OK? - Go ahead!
Come Ginette. Where should we go? Here?
It's better there. Yes, yes.
- The background! Wait! - How do we look?
Don't pose so much!
Who is that?
Rachel, do you remember?
Yes you do...
She was pregnant when she arrived at the camp.
The SS took her baby and threw it in the gas chamber.
What number is on your ticket?
75745
And you?
75750
We're from the same transport.
Do you remember me? Myriam.
No, I don't know you.
Don't worry, she's always like that.
She lives in a psychiatric hospital.
She only leaves it to come here.
On behalf of the Auschwitz Survivors Association,
please welcome our friend and Deputy Mayor...
Like each year, it's with joy and emotion
that I welcome you here.
And now, I drink to all of the survivors
and to the pleasure of being amongst you tonight.
In your opinion, we survived because we were stronger than the others
or because we let the others die for us?
How many are left? I'll take them all.
Here she is!
Fifty-seven at 4 Euros, which makes...
228 Euros.
- Well done! - Let's divide it.
- Divide it? - Yes, it's too much!
No... here you go!
- I don't have much. - That's too much!
- It's OK... - Stop, let me put some in.
- What's that? - Take this...
- Here you go... - You're pushing me!
Wait, you don't have enough, neither do you. Here...
- So, we'll get the bike? - Yes.
Oh! Zero-nine, who wants it?
- Eighty! - Fourteen!
One hundred and eighty four!
- Twenty-six! - A ticket to Cracow...
Do you want it?
No thanks! Return close to Auschwitz... Why don't you keep it?
Me? I'll never go back to Poland! Never!
Do you want it?
Thirty-seven!
Nineteen!
- Twenty-three! - 999!
The bike, it's for me!
You didn't really win it. You bought it!
That bike is mine. Are you going to give it to me?
When?
Just like the Champs-Elysées! It goes back and forth!
One day, we should take a ride in that boat.
You know what that is?
No...
It's the song that Francoise sang,
naked in front of hercoya,
just after she was selected for the gas chamber.
The block leader came over to her and said:
"What a beautiful voice!
"Why didn't you ever sing before?
"I could've spared you the selection.
"It's too late now... They've picked your number."
Who told you that?
A female doctor from the infirmary.
It's my fault if Francoise died.
Why do you say that?
One day...
a Polish woman,
an SS messenger with a cushy job,
asked for my number.
Francoise was behind me and whispered into my ear:
"Say that I am your sister."
I didn't say anything...
Then, there was that roll call...
An SS arrived...
He yelled my number, your number,
but not her number...
We were chosen to sort clothes... "The Canada..."
Paradise...
If I'd said her name, she'd be here with us now.
That's nonsense.
The SS chose us by looking at us, not by calling our numbers.
It's not the Polish woman!
I haven't stopped thinking about that for 50 years...
like a terrible mistake...
You have to stop with these stories of numbers!
See...
we don't have the same memories.
But what proves that you're right?
Do you remember when I used to tell stories?
Yes, you used to tell them during roll call.
It would take hours, we'd freeze to death...
And you brought us elsewhere...
What were my stories about?
I don't remember anymore.
What about you? You don't remember?
No, I forgot.
You never thought about going back there?
What for?
I have to go now. Tomorrow, we'll have lunch together.
I'll call you tomorrow.
Mr. Gutek?
Is he Jewish or not?
At dawn, they opened the doors.
We heard screaming, dogs barking...
There were voices yelling:
"Tired, old people and children, get in the truck!"
My feet hurt, I was going to get in.
Francoise held me back...
"Don't leave me!"
That was the fiirst selection...
She saved my life.
Six...
seven...
eight...
nine...
My block.
Suzanne...
Marie...
Germaine, oh no...
no, Juliette...
Mathilde, Germaine...
Mrs. Hirsch...
Judith...
Simone...
her mother, Mrs. Jacob...
Victoire...
Renée...
Mireille, the brothel matron...
Little Marie...
Henriette, the clairvoyant...
Madeleine, Michelle, Rachel...
and me,
Myriam.
They turned us is into rats.
No, Myriam... We weren't rats.
Remember... those cold nights, you'd tell us such beautiful stories.
What stories?
I only remember the flames,
the smell of burnt flesh,
our empty eyes,
the pile of our bodies, prematurely aged,
fear,
death,
always,
everywhere.
Dad...
Do you remember we saw each other once?
We'd been here for six months already.
You asked me: "And mom and Michel?"
I jumped into your arms and a German hit me.
I fainted.
When I woke up, you had disappeared...
I loved you so much
that I was happy to be deported with you...
No pictures!
You shouldn't do that here, Madam.
This is my home here! I do as I please!
Go away!
- What do we eat? - What would we eat?
I'd like herring with potatoes and onions on top.
I'd like a bathtub full of kreplech beef soup!
I climb in and eat and drink all of it.
And an entire baguette cut in half
with butter and honey.
- No, two baguettes! - And big bowls of café au lait.
Fried onions with tomatoes and eggs on top... with garlic.
And some chicken...
Ten huge chickens, the biggest chicken that exists!
Every morning we fought over a trickle of rusty water.
I wanted so much to stay clean...
not to give up...
to continue to exist...
day...
after day.
It's strange, I don't feel anything at all.
I should feel something. My grandmother never came back.
What about you?
Do you feel something?
I don't know.
There's nothing here!
It's empty...
completely empty...
There's nothing to see.
There's nothing left to see here...
Suzanne,
I needed to talk you.
Are you OK?
Tell me,
do you remember Mireille, with the brothel?
What happened to her?
I don't think she ever came back.
Oh really.
When the others told crude stories,
she always put her hands over our ears.
She thought we were too young.
Did you call me to talk about Mireille?
And little Janine?
You know she was taken to the experiment block.
And Bella, who was always with her sister?
Myriam, won't you come back to Paris?
No.
Bye.
I have to go now, I'm going to sleep.
Good night.
Come back soon.
Good night.
Sir!
Every time I pass through this region, I come here...
to think.
I think here.
Did you lose family here?
Excuse me?
Did you lose loved ones here?
Sorry... I have to go.
Sir!
You know...
I'm taking pictures of the camp.
Its archeology...
Why are you telling me this?
Because you thought that...
What did I think?
That I was taking photos of you.
Are you Jewish?
German.
That's my luck...
- You could be a Jewish German? - Sorry, I'm not.
"Nobody's perfect!"
These rails...
with my friends,
we'd pull wagons,
full of stones to build the ballasts...
This path leads to death.
What kind of photos are you taking?
How long have you been here?
I've been here for almost 8 weeks.
I'm taking pictures of...
I mean, I'm trying to photograph traces, signs...
all of it.
I want to do something objective...
I'm looking for the invisible.
Madam...
I would really like it...
if you'd help me.
If I dared...
I'd ask you if it could be possible to...
What would you ask me?
Allow me to accompany you.
The death block.
We weren't allowed to approach it.
The women were selected for the gas chamber.
They knew it.
We also knew.
We heard the screams of women who didn't want to die...
and the truck that took them away at night.
The sky was always red.
Ashes.
Aunt Ida,
Uncle Samuel and their daughters,
my cousins Sura and beautiful little Estoucha.
Ashes: Uncle Haiim, Aunt Ryvka,
their children Zelig, Jacob, Féla and Chana,
my cousins...
Ashes.
Ashes,
all whose names I don't know,
gassed,
burnt here or in other crematories.
And my father, Schloiime...
Solomon...
Ashes.
- Hello. - Hello.
We'd like to speak with you for a minute.
What about?
This woman's parents lived here before the war.
She'd like to take a look.
She's here to reclaim the Jew's properties?
How long have you lived here?
Forever. It was my mother's.
My grandparents moved in during the war.
- Am I disturbing you? - No, not at all.
- Something to drink? - Yes... no thanks.
How are the photos coming along?
It's with you that my work would have...
more sense.
I'd like to photograph you at Birkenau.
You don't want to know why... why I'm doing this project?
These camp photos.
For an exhibit or a book?
Yes... yes... but that's not all.
My father...
born in...
in 1942,
died of cancer at 60 years old.
Eight days before he died, he told me that my grandfather
was an SS colonel and part of the administrative direction
who organized the camps in Poland, and in particular Auschwitz...
and Birkenau.
What are you talking about?
The grandson of an SS retracing the steps of a criminal!
You should have told me before about your burden!
I'm sorry.
I know it's unfair to you, but I can't bear it.
I've come for you,
I need you.
You are not ghosts.
You, Francoise, with your eyes so blue...
You'd sing us Edith Piaf songs
and your mother's lullabies.
Together, we'd look at the sun,
showing us such hard hours,
so long...
You, the Hungarian, with whom I carried stones,
killed in front of me.
You, little Renée,
Ida, you and the "Clepsi-Clepsi" from Salonica.
I close my eyes.
I am 15 years old, then... 16.
Perhaps, it's here where I was the most loved.
My memory is not like Gutek's book.
The Sufferance of forgetting.
Fog...
The fog of forgetting.
In Paris, you said:
"Myriam, how could you have forgotten?"
Can you believe it?
He asked if this was my phone number!
I also have one!
- He's unbelievable! - Imbecile!
Go play them in the lottery! You may be lucky!
He has a weird face, anyway.
- He got on my nerves! - Well, you dance with anybody!
Ginette, we dug near the kitchens?
You're mistaken... near the crematories.
We'd dig up scraps of Russian uniforms, hats, bones...
You remember why we dug, don't you?
You haven't forgotten?
Why did we dig there?
To burn the bodies of the Hungarians from the gas chamber...
No room in the crematories!
I didn't do that!
Of course you did!
No, we dug near the kitchens!
You're mistaken, we dug near the crematories.
...near the kitchens...
But I'm sure. It was here!
And the Sonder Kommando revolt, you know, the crematory chiefs?
Yes, that I remember.
They cut the barbed wire and told us to follow them.
We weren't so close to them!
Yes! Shooting everywhere!
They escaped! We weren't next to the kitchens!
We even saw them come back surrounded by SS.
They were all gassed!
How could you have forgotten?
Suzanne, it's me.
I'm disturbing you... again.
Did we dig near the kitchens?
No, you're wrong, we dug just behind the crematories.
Are you sure?
Remember the Gypsy camp, across from "The Mexico"...
We passed by there everyday, morning and night...
Further on the left is where we dug the ditches.
The crematory is there...
One, two,
three...
It wasn't, it was there...
It was... no!
It's not there.
It's not possible!
They went out through there.
There?
There!
There is nothing left!
It's just that...
crematory...
There's nothing left...
nothing at all...
We dug here.
We were covered in ashes.
Even the sky was black.
I don't remember...
- Hello. May I have my key, please? - Yes.
Here you are.
Madam, there is a young man here for you.
Wake him and tell him to come upstairs to sleep.
Thank you.
Don't just stay there!
I brought you something.
Here...
I'd like to know what you think...
Not tonight. I'll look at it tomorrow.
Good night.
Good night, Madam.
You can call me Myriam.
Good night, Myriam.
What is this place?
The "Sauna".
But... it wasn't like this!
Where are we?
The deportees got undressed in here.
They took away all their belongings...
clothes, jewelry, money, photos... everything!
I don't recognize it.
I must have come through here...
There weren't windows, it was all gray.
It looks like a museum!
First, they had us enter into a room.
They shaved us and tattooed us.
We were brought to the showers...
When we found ourselves naked,
with our heads shaved...
some cried and others laughed.
There was something so... absurd.
The female SS officers asked if there were any musicians.
A small voice answered:
"I'm a dancer at the opera."
One SS woman said:
"That's great! Show us what you can do"!
And she started to dance on points...
and leap... naked with her shaved head,
in a total silence.
Laurette...
That's right... her name was Laurette.
She must have been about 15, like me.
You know what it is?
Ashes...
Ashes of men, women and children...
I'll never be able to forget.
I think about it everyday.
Sometimes, I say: "You haven't thought today."
And inevitably, I start to think...
I am not finished with this camp.
You're condemned to look at it through my eyes...
Stop!
I have to eat something now!
- You can't wait? - I have to eat right now. And you?
No thanks.
Zuppa?
This soup is uneatable!
It's strange, I'm sure there is another one.
This soup is worse than in the camp.
I'm sure there's another one...
She served herself from a different pot.
We could've gone elsewhere.
But they're keeping it for themselves! I'm not eating this!
- Wait here. - No!
What's come over me?
What's happening to me?
And after, what did you do?
When I came home, I was uncontrollable.
I slept on the floor.
At night, I'd wake up and empty the pantry.
I was only able to speak to my little sister.
Did you feel alone?
Yes.
Enough about me. What about you?
What have you done?
- Me? - Yes.
I just... met you.
No, no...
Shall we sit down?
- At the bar? - The bar?
- What'll you have? - Vodka.
A glass of vodka?
- No, a bottle! - A bottle?
Yes, I can manage.
Why did you come back here?
I thought that...
for a long time, that you respond to violence with violence.
I didn't want to come back here.
What changed for you?
I met a man who loved me and...
This man, he died.
You came back for him?
Not to testify?
Survivors don't come back to testify.
They are diseased with suffering... like me.
They are afraid to come back here... like me.
They only think of one thing... To get the hell out of here!
Like me!
What are you doing?
My friends say we had to dig ditches
to put in corpses, to burn them...
There was no space in the crematories...
Sprayed gas on them...
- What period was this? - October 1944.
I'm sure because I saw the Sonder Kommando revolt.
They waved to us to escape with them.
Your friends told you the truth.
This is where the ditches are.
It's here!
You tell me this?
It's not your business!
Who asked you?
And if I don't want to remember!
And if I'm trying to forget...
I bumped into a nice guy,
an American Jew...
A real American.
"Be a good girl, God bless you."
He reminded me of a tall guy,
an electrician who was allowed to move around the camp.
One day, 6 or 7 months after I saw my father for the last time,
he brought me a note from my father.
What did your father write?
I am number 75750.
I am alive!
Alive!
Are you OK?
I'm going to find a seat.
Myriam, tell me,
what did the little note from your father say?
I don't remember.
I never could remember.
Birkenau... you know what it means?
The Birch Tree Meadow.
SubRip by TraceR