Cliff Stitch
Dead On ArrivalWe hadn’t been at the camp long, Our cattle car doors thrown open into the blinding white light of the snow covered camp. Looking back, in the darkness, many bodies lay strewn.Dead On Arrival
Dead On Arrival. The airless cattle car- the first test. I could hear the eerie silence of the area we were herded into,
only to be broken by our tired, shuffling feet and the sound of children’s cries. Murmurs of prayer. Freezing cold. Shiver. One by one we were funnelled into five inspection areas. I was grabbed, Pushed. Prodded. Poked. Hair examined and eyes held open
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