Auschwitz, October 1944; from the diary of 15-year-old Helga Weiss:
After breakfast was roll-call, where they counted us, left us standing there for an hour, maybe two, I don’t know exactly, because I don’t have a watch—in any case it was endless. Why I don’t know; apparently it’s part of the daily program. They only let us back in the building once it seemed to them that we were sufficiently tired and frozen through and through. It’s only October, but it was freezing cold standing there at four in the morning (it must have been around then, it was still completely dark), almost naked, for the rags they dressed us in can’t be called clothes, our bare feet stuck in Dutch clogs (sometimes only one clog, if you’re not clever and energetic enough to clamber down from the bunk in time and there aren’t enough to go round)—and the worst thing of all, with a shaven head; that’s the part that gets coldest.
(Drawing by Helga Weiss at age 14, “The Transportation of Polish Children, 1943)