I don't remember very much of Pruszków. I know we were sleeping on such platforms and that some people would give us one piece of bread and tomates; I don't know who they were, nurses from RGO (the Central Welfare Council) maybe. They were wearing gray or white aprons. And they would give everybody one tomato and one piece of bread.
The Germans separated the people, men, women. I remember some man who dragged me by my hand and my Mum dragged me to the other side, she didn't want him to keep me. He said: "But you've got children and what about me? They'll take me if haven't got any child by me". He wanted to take me up on his hands. He wanted to borrow me. But one couldn't know what would happen later, the Germans drove us on all the time. There was a segregation there and probably the men who had got children but no wife weren't going to the camp.
At that moment I was with my Mum, with my grandma, with my younger sister and with my cousin because we all lived together on Nalewki St. I remember this strange guy pull me by my hand, but my Mum didn't want to release me. But there were quite different men in Pruszków - young, healthy men, there weren't any men from our shelter, maybe just the violinist, a man who was ill... We met there this professor who had taught my father painting; he died in the camp anyway.