the gate with arbeit macht frei, works make you free, the gate with arbeit macht frei, works makes youe german sign. the german, yes. and we were directly proceeded to the main gate, through the main gate to the main camp. in all honesty, years later, i thought about it, i never remember giving my name. i don't, because the shock was such. and people say, why didn't you talk? you didn't talk because the trauma of it, even years later, was still there. so we — we didn't. no, we didn't. we just went through the main gate, and the sight that greeted us beyond the selection gate will stay with me for the rest of my life. there were watchtowers with machine—guns pointed at us, and there were corpses everywhere, and these emaciated looking men walking around in striped clothing, dragging those... they were like trolleys, full of these skin—and—bone bodies. so after we were collected, a whole train of people, we were marched to be stripped naked, our hair shaven, and to be tattooed with a number. from then on, we have no name. nothing. you were given that advice which probably saved your life