The tattoo artist of the son of Auschwitz visits the camp for the first time | TV and radio | Showbiz & TV

Walking through those infamous huge iron gates, beneath the ominous ‘Arbeit Macht Frei’ (work sets you free) sign, a terrified Gary Sokolov couldn’t stop his legs from shaking.

Knowing he was about to witness the horror of his parents’ past and desperate to honor them, the buildup of emotions made it an accident.

Ahead of the 80th anniversary of the liberation of the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camps on January 27, 1945, the only sound of the ‘Tattooist of Auschwitz’, Slovakian Jew Lali Sokolov, (sometimes spelled Lale) was visiting the notorious death camp for the First time in memory of his late parents.

His pilgrimage to the site of the execution of six million of his fellow Jews was being filmed so that a new documentary of the history of heaven would be broadcast on the anniversary.

Many readers will already be familiar with her parents’ incredibly touching love story documented in the 2017 best-selling novel “The Tattooist of Auschwitz” by Lale’s former caretaker and housekeeper, Heather Morris, and the television miniseries starring Harvey Keitel last year.

But for the first time, the couple’s only son has seen firsthand what his heroic parents endured and survived during World War II.

In an exclusive interview, Gary, 63, told The Express: “I was absolutely terrified of going to Auschwitz, but I didn’t want to let dad down.

“I didn’t know if I had the guts to do it, but there were so many unanswered questions.

“However, as I walked through the doors, under Arbeit Macht Frei, my knees were shaking so much that they had to stop filming until I could compose and get my legs to work properly. I was sobbing and felt like a coward.”

The worst part was coming for Gary as he was taken on a behind the scenes tour of the camp and understanding the full horror of what happened there 80 years ago.

“Walking through those doors wasn’t even the hardest part. The hardest part was seeing the crematorium. Dad had said over and over again, ‘Crematoria three’ before he died.

“I don’t think I’ve ever cried like that in my life. When I got out of there I could see that the director was also in sight and I had to call his wife.

“Afterwards I had no emotion left. I felt completely exhausted. It was emotionally horrible.

“But at the same time, walking in my parents’ footsteps was very special. I don’t think I’ve ever felt closer to them than I did there.”

Gary’s parents, Lali and Gita, met and fell in love as prisoners of Auschwitz-Birkenau.

Lali was forced to work as a tattoo artist in the camp, tattooing prisoners’ numbers on their arms when the Nazis exchanged new arrival names and identities for a number.

During his three years in Auschwitz, from 1942 to 1945, Lali, a 25-year-old Jew from Krompachy in Slovakia, would tattoo hundreds of thousands of prisoners, with the help of assistants.

One of those he tattooed was fellow Slovakian Gita Furman.

“I tattooed her number on her left hand, and she tattooed her number on my heart,” Lali later told author Heathe in the book about their love story.
These forced tattoos, the numbers unstable and marked against pale forearms, have become one of the most recognizable symbols of the Holocaust and its ‘deadliest camp’.

Lali met Gita for the first time in July 1942 and their connection was instantaneous.

He would send her letters, provided by a guard, as well as additional rations. They would meet secretly on Sundays, their only day of rest.

They lost contact in 1945 when she was sent to the Mauthausen camp, just two days before the Russians advanced.
Lali then managed to escape, swimming the Danube to avoid capture, and traveled back to Slovakia on horseback, where he searched for Gita and miraculously found her.

Desperate to get as far away from Europe as possible, they, like 127,000 Jewish refugees, mostly Holocaust survivors, moved to Australia, where their only son Gary lives today in Melbourne.

Gita died in 2003, aged 78, while Lali died in 2007 at the age of 90.

Gary takes the story: “Before he died, Dad said he wanted to go back to Auschwitz.

“Mum had returned to Slovakia before she died, but Dad had never been able to return.

“I said ‘Dad, are you sure?’ But he said he needed to finally apologize again to all the people he couldn’t save and I think he had a deep sense of guilt.

“I should have called work the next day and taken a couple of weeks off and gone with him.

“Five weeks later he passed away, so we never had the chance.

“I have a real sense of regret that we didn’t go together.

“So when the offer to do the documentary came up, I finally had the opportunity to make the apology on my father’s behalf, which was a huge relief for me.”

Before visiting the camp, Gary was taken to Slovakia, visiting his parents’ childhood homes and his father’s school.

“I grabbed stones from both of his villages so I could put them on his grave every time I visited.

“It is Jewish trafficking to put a stone on a grave.

“I am very happy to have seen all those places and met family members and people who knew them who are still alive today.

“If I had been at camp first, that wouldn’t have been such a happy memory.”

After visiting Slovakia Gary and the documentary team traveled to Poland.

Gary said: “They took me to areas that aren’t on the tour.

“I went to the area where my mother was in Birkenau. “The immensity of Birkenau was amazing.

“The entire production. The way the Germans made sure there was absolutely no waste, like even the hair was sent to be sent to weaving companies.

“They took me to dad’s block, the gypsy camp and the punishment wing.

“I even saw the box they put my dad in on the punishment block. I snuck in there.

“It was so small. I tried to imagine three people there. You had to stay up all night. You could barely breathe.”

Gary visited the execution yard where the prisoners would be shot in the back of the head, where their blood soaked through a meter of depth beneath the ground.

He saw the terrible living conditions, the gas chambers, the conveyor belts that would transport the piles of naked corpses from the chamber to the crematorium.

He saw the railroads that brought Jews from all over Europe and the small wooden carriages that contained 80 people, many of whom suffocated before they arrived.

“Seeing what my parents experienced firsthand has made me understand a little bit of what they were protecting me from by never talking about it.

“They would never talk to me about it growing up.

“Dad was so hardened in some ways, mom often very depressed.

“Dad was always looking forward. I couldn’t look back.

“I remember coming home from school once. I must have been about 12 or 13 and the house had gone up for sale and the car was being taken away. Dad had broken.

“I was hoping to go home and there was crying, but mom was in the kitchen singing and cooking.

“She just said that when you’d been through what they’d been through, you could deal with anything and she said dad had always looked out for her and she trusted him always to.”

Gary is now a father himself to two daughters, Aviva and Marley (checking name spelling and ages) and took them to his parents’ graves so they could place the stones he had recovered from Slovakia to place on their graves.

He added: “Since Auschwitz, I am now a different person. I feel lighter and more at peace somehow.

Gary also says that his Jewish identity is more important to him than ever now.

“My Jewish faith is exceptionally important to me because my parents survived and I don’t want them to have survived for no reason.

“It is important to me that they have Jewish grandchildren in the world even though they never had the opportunity to meet them.

“It’s also very important for me to keep the religion, to keep it strong.”

Gary strictly observes the Sabbath, no phones, no computers, no cars.

Instead, he plays and talks with his children, board games, and trips to the park.

“I love spending time with my family without distractions. I love Jewish traditions. We light many candles.

“My religion is extremely important to me. It’s the reason six million people died.”

He feels a duty to keep new generations informed about the Holocaust and challenge the deniers.

He added: “I have never met a Holocaust survivor who wanted to talk about their experiences, but I will continue to do so.

And he says that, like his parents, he believes, no matter how horrible a situation is, particularly in war, there is always hope.

“My mom and dad were lucky to survive and I am the result of one of the most amazing romances in the most horrible place.

“So I would say to all those people who are suffering in the world because of war, there is always hope. There will be better days.”

* The tattoo artist’s son: Journey to Auschwitz, Skjy History, Monday, January 27 at 9 pm