In 1943, inside the vast killing complex of Auschwitz-Birkenau, a decision was made that
appeared, at least on paper, to signal a shift. Under mounting pressure and
administrative strain, the SS authorized the creation of a so-called maternity
barracks within the women’s camp.
To an outsider, the existence of a “pregnancy block”
might have sounded like a concession—an acknowledgment of life amid systematic
death.
In reality, it
became something far more haunting.
Block 24,
later designated Block C in Sector B, housed pregnant prisoners and newborns.
The structure differed little from surrounding barracks: crude wooden bunks
stacked three tiers high, damp straw mattresses, lice-infested blankets, and
air thick with disease. Winter brought freezing temperatures without heating.
Water was scarce. Sanitation was nearly nonexistent.
Though labeled
a maternity ward, there were no sterilized instruments, no proper medical
supplies, and no trained obstetric staff. Women labored on filthy straw. Fellow
prisoners—teachers, shopkeepers, nurses stripped of equipment and
authority—risked punishment to assist births with bare hands.
The word
“ward” concealed a brutal reality: this was not a sanctuary. It was an
administrative compartment inside a machinery of annihilation.
Selection, Racial
Policy, and the Illusion of Mercy
The fate of pregnant prisoners depended heavily on
Nazi racial classifications. Jewish women, Roma women, and others deemed
“racially inferior” were rarely permitted to carry pregnancies to term in earlier
years of the camp’s operation. Many were selected for immediate killing upon
arrival.
By late 1943,
policy shifted in limited ways. Some non-Jewish prisoners—particularly certain
Polish political detainees—were occasionally allowed to give birth. Even then,
survival was uncertain.
Newborns who
met Nazi racial criteria could be removed from their mothers and subjected to
examination under the racial policies tied to programs such as Lebensborn. Others were rejected after
inspection.
Acceptance did
not guarantee safety. Rejection often meant slow death through neglect,
starvation, or quiet disappearance.
The maternity
barracks thus became a place suspended between bureaucratic procedure and
ideological violence—a fragile illusion of clemency within a genocidal system.
Medicine as
Instrument: Experiments on Pregnant Prisoners
At the center of Auschwitz’s medical operations were
SS physicians whose names became synonymous with cruelty.
Among them:
·
Josef Mengele
·
Carl Clauberg
·
Horst Schumann
Their
activities were framed as research. In practice, they were acts of calculated
harm.
Mengele,
remembered by survivors as the “Angel of Death,” is often associated with twin
studies. Yet pregnant women also fell within the scope of selections and
examinations. Survivors described procedures carried out without anesthesia,
forced terminations performed to observe physiological effects, and fetuses
collected for anatomical study.
Clauberg,
tasked with developing large-scale sterilization techniques, injected caustic
substances—such as formalin-based compounds and silver nitrate
solutions—directly into women’s reproductive organs. The intent was to induce
scarring that would block fertility without surgical intervention. The procedures
caused intense pain, infection, and, in many cases, death.
Schumann
experimented with X-ray sterilization, directing radiation at the abdomen and
ovaries. These exposures resulted in burns, internal injuries, and permanent
infertility.
These acts were
not rogue initiatives. They were embedded within the broader racial ideology of
Nazi Germany, aimed at reducing or eliminating the birth rates of groups
targeted for destruction.
Records were
kept. Observations logged. Data compiled.
But the women
themselves were denied recognition as patients. They were treated as
experimental material.
Infants Born in
the Camp
For those who carried pregnancies to term, childbirth
marked the beginning of another ordeal.
Before 1943, most
babies born in the camp were killed immediately. Methods varied, but survival
was extraordinarily rare. After policy adjustments, limited numbers of infants
were allowed to live temporarily, particularly in the women’s camp at Birkenau
and in the so-called “Gypsy family camp.”
Conditions
remained lethal.
There was no
infant formula. No proper medical oversight. No diapers. No sterile
environment. Mothers, weakened by forced labor and starvation rations, often
could not produce sufficient milk. Disease spread rapidly.
Mortality
rates were staggering. In Block 24, a vast majority of newborns died within
days or weeks.
One of the
most significant testimonies about this period came from Gisella Perl, a trained gynecologist imprisoned
at Auschwitz. In postwar accounts, she described performing secret abortions to
prevent immediate execution of pregnant women and certain death for infants.
Her actions reflected an agonizing moral calculus shaped by camp realities.
Each birth in
Auschwitz occurred within a system structured to extinguish it.
Policy,
Documentation, and Historical Accountability
The presence of a maternity barracks does not
indicate humanitarian reform. Rather, it reflects shifting administrative
priorities during wartime—labor management, international scrutiny, and
bureaucratic record-keeping.
The broader
apparatus of the camp remained intact:
·
Forced
labor exploitation
·
Mass
deportation logistics
·
Gas
chambers and crematoria
·
Medical
experimentation programs
·
Racial
classification procedures
The tragedy of
pregnant women in Auschwitz underscores how ideology can infiltrate
institutions traditionally associated with care—medicine, maternity,
midwifery—and convert them into tools of control and destruction.
These crimes
were later examined in postwar proceedings, including aspects of the Doctors’
Trial held under the authority of the International
Military Tribunal. Evidence revealed how medical professionals
participated in, documented, and justified abuses under a racial state.
Yet no legal
proceeding can fully capture the intimate devastation of birth denied dignity.
The Question of
Memory
Auschwitz is remembered as a site of mass murder.
Less frequently discussed is its assault on future generations—the deliberate
targeting of unborn children and the corruption of maternal care.
How should
history record a place where birth itself could become grounds for execution?
For survivors
like Gisella Perl, the moral wounds endured long after liberation. She later
wrote of being ordered to prevent life, describing it as one of the deepest
psychological torments she carried.
The maternity
barracks at Auschwitz stands as a reminder that genocide operates not only
through killing the living, but through the calculated erasure of those yet to
be born.
In that erasure lies one of the most chilling dimensions of the camp’s history: the transformation of childbirth from a universal human event into an act shadowed by death.

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