Deborah O'Neill (NSW, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Thank you, Acting Deputy President Chandler, and the chamber for the fast movement of people in and out of roles so that I'm able to make this contribution this evening.

On 15 August 2024, Australia lost a remarkable figure in the Jewish community with the passing of Holocaust survivor and Sydney Jewish Museum volunteer Olga Horak. Her memoir, this beautiful book, entitled Auschwitz to Australia, offers a deeply personal account of resilience and suffering. Olga's story exemplifies how a person can endure unimaginable pain while still holding on to faith in both God and humanity.

Born in Bratislava, Czechoslovakia, in 1926, Olga's life took a harrowing turn as Europe succumbed to the horrors of Nazism. The unimaginable became a grim reality as society turned its back on its own. At just 14, Olga was expelled from school, her family lost their livelihood and she faced public scorn due to her yellow star. It was only after Olga's sister was rounded up and sent to Auschwitz to be gassed in 1942 that the family went into hiding.

After two years of persecution, precarious living conditions and the constant fear of discovery, the family was betrayed and sent on cattle trains to Auschwitz. The journey was gruelling. Denied food and water with only a single bucket to contain waste, the train journey was one of extreme deprivation. Upon arriving in Auschwitz, the sight of the infamous gates, reading 'Arbeit macht frei', was accompanied by the sick sounds of a prisoner's orchestra. 'The music belonged not to the world of the living, but of the dead,' she wrote.

Olga's story reveals that beyond the physical deprivations of starvation, forced labour and squalor, humiliation was used as a deliberate means of breaking the spirit of the Jewish people. Her father was murdered upon arrival, but Olga and her mother were selected by the 'angel of death', Dr Mengele. They were stripped in front of him and deemed 'useful'. With blunts clippers, Olga had her head, armpits and pubic hair shaved, causing her to bleed and later sting as thick disinfectant was slapped on her with a mop.

Olga's existence was one of routine barbarity. Roll calls occurred at 4 am after the kapo cleared the barracks. The women of the camp were served a black, watery substance that was laced with bromide to stop 'inconvenient' menstruation. Working in the bitter cold of the 1944 winter was harsh, with any sign of weakness resulting in beatings or execution by the SS. Olga's health rapidly deteriorated. She was covered in blisters, infested with lice and her gums bled from severe malnutrition. The conditions were so dire that prisoners at night were often doused in urine and faeces from those above them on the wooden bunks.

In December 1944, Olga and her mother embarked on the infamous death march. Olga vividly recalls the fleeing Germans with their carts full of blankets, foodstuffs, milk and valuables. These are her words:

Not one of those thousands ever attempted to throw even a scrap of bread or a potato in our direction. They saw us; they stared at us; they hated us and knew who we were—Jews. Even as their Third Reich crumbled, their hatred endured.

The march, stretching over 700 kilometres to Bergen-Belsen, was harsh with long stretches of no food or water. By the time of her arrival, she was sick with typhus. Any body fat had long disappeared, causing her bones to protrude from her skin and her breasts to vanish. Her teeth were loose, her hair was patchy, weeping sores covered her body and her eyes were sunken in their sockets. Olga could barely stand upright, let alone straight. Her physical condition was a stark reminder of the brutality she had endured.

On 15 April 1945, Olga and her mother were liberated by the British. At 18 years old, Olga weighed just 29 kilograms. With the war over for them, they were finally issued a displaced person's card. As her mother tried to hold the small white paper, she collapsed. Her passing marked Olga's final and most cruel punishment by the Nazis. Her mother was just 40.

After the war, Olga sought a new life in British Mandate Palestine but faced repeated rejections before finding refuge in Sydney, Australia. There she married fellow survivor John and lived a long life, passing away at 98. Even in her final days, she dedicated herself to volunteering at the Sydney Jewish Museum. Throughout her life she carried the scars of her past but chose not to harbour hatred, believing that hatred is ugly and that it brought about the most terrible tragedy of the 20th century. May her memory be a blessing.

Senate adjourned at 17:04