In memory of my parents and of my little sister, Tzipora

They called him Moshe the Beadle, as though he had never had a surname in his life.

At about six o'clock in the evening, the first American tank stood at the gates of Buchenwald. Our first act as free men was to throw ourselves onto the provisions. We thought only of that. Not of revenge, not of our families. Nothing but bread. And even when we were no longer hungry, there was still no one who thought of revenge.

The look in his eyes, as they stared into mine, has never left me.

"Night" is a memoir, a biography, and should not be tagged as Fiction.