Josef Mengele: Peter
Peter wrote this letter to his absent father, Abraham, on his deathbed on the operating table of Dr. Josef Mengele, who fooled his patients into calling him "Uncle Mengele," in Auschwitz.
March 22, 1945
It has been forever
since I have heard from you. I miss my family. I have not seen you and Mama
for ages, and I don’t think I will ever see you again. I hope that you
are feeling better then I am. It is complete torture here. Kind, smiling Uncle
Mengele was nothing more than a fake. Rachel and I are given daily injections,
of what, I don’t know. It can’t be good though. I feel myself beginning
to weaken. My strength is almost completely gone.
I have nothing left to live for. I barely see Rachel, and almost never speak
with her. “Uncle Mengele” calls my number (156989) twice, sometimes
three times a day. I am practically like his personal guinea pig. Everyday somebody
draws my blood, mostly from my arms, but sometimes from my neck. It is quite
painful. Last week my stomach and internal organs were meticulously dissected
and rearranged. I have not stopped vomiting since. Today chemicals were dropped
into my eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to change the color to blue. Even though
I like my eye color just fine, I hope it changes so the torture will stop. I
don’t think I can take it much longer. I wish the pain would stop. I have
gone almost completely blind in my right eye and now vision in my left is beginning
to become blurry. I really don’t understand “Uncle Mengele’s”
obsession with twins. It seems
that everyone in this laboratory has (or had) a twin.
I have been waiting patiently for some kind of sign, but the future looks bleak and dreary. Please come and save me. I love you.
Your Loving Son,
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