In the mornings, when we lined up to be counted, Abram would pinch my cheeks to make me look healthier. At the end of the shift, we slept in barracks. There were no mattresses, just some straw. We slept in our clothes; we couldn't change. The lice were horrendous. Typhoid fever broke out and Abram came down with it.
There were no medications to give him. We just hid him and gave him water. If you asked for medical attention, they'd take you and shoot you. I looked after him during the day, and my father would look after him at night. One day, he was discovered and they took him away and shot him. My father was never the same after this. His black hair turned grey.