Fake Holocaust Survivors: Eddy Boas

The ‘Times of Israel’ has helpfully published another – fairly ludicrous – ‘Holocaust Survivor’ story in the form of Eddy Boas’ account of his time in the famous Bergen-Belsen concentration camp.

To wit:

‘Seventy-five years ago, in the middle of the night on 28 September 1943, a Dutch Nazi and a German soldier with guns inhand, broke down our front door at 39 Kraijenhoffstraat, Den Haag, the Netherlands (Holland). They rushed up the stairs toour second floor flat, shouting “geh raus, geh raus” (get out, get out).

I was 3 years and 8 months old.

My father and mother immediately ran to my bedroom, which I shared with my 8 year old brother. The Dutch Nazi told us toget dressed and bring a small suitcase. When my mother came out of my bedroom she threw a tin of talcum powder at the Dutchman, he shouted “you made the place dirty, you dirty Jew” she shouted back “the only thing dirty here is you.” He hit herin the cheek with his gun.

The four of us were pushed down the stairs, having to leave all out possessions behind. Once on the street we were herded into an army truck surrounded by Dutch policemen, with our neighbours silently looking on.

[...]

Four month later on 1 February, 1944 we were again forced into cattle wagons and taken to the Dutch-German border where the Dutch railway crew handed us over to German railway workers. A few hours later we arrived at an army railway ramp belonging to the Wehrmacht where we, together with 906 other Dutch Jews, were unloaded from our train. The ramp was located 6 km from the main entrance to Bergen-Belsen Concentration camp. The 906 prisoners were lined-up 6 abreast and were ordered to start marching, including the very old and the very young. My parents being tall, were ordered to march atthe front of the long lines, my brother and myself with the other children, at the back of the lines.

It took nearly 2 hours to reach the main gate, where SS guards surrounded the prisoners and a roll call was ordered, just to make sure no one had escaped. Everyone was exhausted and frightened.

My father had fought in the Dutch army against the Germans and he realised that Bergen-Belsen would be a dangerous place.

My mother was worried about where my brother and I were and keeping my anxious mother quiet was not an easy task but my father understood that the SS guards would have no hesitation in shooting anyone who was troublesome. Once counted my mother was separated from my father, she came looking for us and luckily found us amongst the other children. My mother, brother and I were sent to a section of Bergen Belsen called Star Camp where we were allocated to Barrack 22 which was meant to hold 300-400 women and children. When we arrived the bunks were two-high, my brother slept in the top bunk and my mother and I shared the bottom one.

[...]

In the early days of our incarceration, there were about 4000 prisoners in the Star Camp, averaging 200 people per barrack, but as more prisoners arrived and the camp became overcrowded, the number rose to over 400 per barrack.

The four of us were held prisoners in Bergen-Belsen for 434 days, 6 days prior to arriving at Bergen-Belsen I had my 4th birthday in Westerbork and 12 months later on 26 January 1945 I had my 5th birthday in Bergen-Belsen.

There was nothing to celebrate except that I was still alive.

I was one of the youngest children imprisoned in Bergen-Belsen and one of the very youngest to survive this hell where tens of thousands of others lost their lives, including many hundreds of children. Records recovered show that at least 70 babies were born in Bergen-Belsen most did not survive. The youngest known survivor was born in the Women’s camp on 14 April 1945,this was just one day before the British army liberated the camp.

My brother and I were growing boys and keeping us warm during the winter was difficult, whatever had been in the small case we were allowed to bring had long gone. The 1944/45 winter, was one of the most severe in many years. I had grown at least two or three sizes. The only way to clothe us was to steal or trade with mothers who had boys growing out of size or we had to find clothing discarded by parents of young children who had died. My mother told me this was not easy and often we just had blankets wrapped around us to keep warm. Shoes especially were difficult to find and if I did get them they were pretty- well worn out. During the winter my feet especially my toes would get very cold. To keep my feet warm my mother told me to pee on them. Though the warm did not last long, it felt good for a while.

Every prisoner had to work. My mother worked mostly in the kitchen cleaning pots and peeling potatoes, she also had to clean the outside toilets – not very pleasant at all. My brother then aged nine and I (then four) were mostly left on our own to roam around the camp where my brother tried to steal food and clothing and making sure not to cross a SS Guard. My father’s job was to take a horse and cart around the camp and pick up the dead bodies lying around in the dirt and the dead from the barracks. The major advantage of this job was that he was able to steal food meant for the horses, such as a carrot or potato, (yes the Germans fed horses better than the Jews), and through my brother was able to get this extra food to my mother. My mother did use some of this extra food to trade for clothing.

The food was terrible, two thin slices of bread and a cup filled with a liquid – supposedly turnip soup (a root vegetable, usually fed to livestock) and sometimes a piece of potato. The Nazis decided that only children three or younger would receive extra rations of food but the extra food for children ceased in the winter of 1944 when Bergen-Belsen became overcrowded and food became more scarce. Sanitary facilities were virtually non-existent; the toilets were not located close to the barracks so at night especially, prisoners just went outside and did what they had to do.’ (1)

Now I need but point out two things about Boas’ autobiographical narrative to demonstrate that it actually denies the so-called ‘Holocaust’ rather than affirms it.

In the first place we have the simple fact that Boas was a three to five year old child resident in the German concentration camp system during the ‘Holocaust’ and survived just under two years in that system during the height of the alleged policy of mass extermination. According to the traditional

‘Holocaust’ narrative children who could not work – and Boas and his brother clearly could not work – or were under a certain age (usually put between ten and thirteen) were to be gassed immediately.

Yet Boas was not only not gassed but neither was his brother.

This leads us nicely onto the second point which is that – as Boas attests – he actually grew significantly during a time when he is claiming that he was continually starving.

This suggests in direct contrast to his protestations to the contrary that Boas was sufficiently fed to allow himself to grow substantially and not be stunted.

This further adds to our impression that Boas not only denies the ‘Holocaust’ but actually had a fairly good time of it in Bergen-Belsen while civilians and soldiers around Europe were dying – often horribly – on an empty stomach.

References

(1) https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/against-all-odds-my-family-survived-bergen-belsen/