When you lie back in the dentist’s chair
After a medicinal whiff of gas,
With the drill resonating in your head,
And all manner of contrivances stuck in your mouth,
Your mind might just drift away to escape the pain,
And you might just see Eddie Hamel,
Standing there beside you,
A tall, good-looking gentleman
With sleek black hair
And a number 7 on his back;
A New York Jewish gentleman,
Who just happened to play football,
Patrolling the Ajax right wing,
And sending in his accurate crosses,
In those happy flapper days of the Twenties,
Before the Second World War,
When Eddie was sent to the Westerbork transit camp,
And thence by sealed train and on to Birkenau;
There he shared the top bunk with Leon Greenman,
Where they rubbed their backs together to share warmth,
Trying to stay alive on those cold winter nights,
Before the Final Selection.
Eddie had been an Ajax first team regular,
Selected for his agility
And ability to drop his shoulders,
Feint to the left and then swerve with his body to the right;
But on this nightmare day of Selection,
Eddie had an abscess in his mouth,
And the SS thought a swollen face
Meant an unfit, incapable worker,
So while Leon went to the right,
Eddie, right behind him,
Was ordered to the left,
And this gentle man,
Described and known as a “terrifically nice” human being,
Was despatched to the gas chambers
And the Final Solution;
But we won’t forget you, Eddie,
Especially when the Feyenoord fans
Chant holocaust songs and “We’re going on a Jew hunt”,
Then hiss the sound of escaping gas
When their team plays Ajax.
“Never again”?

© Stuart Butler - 2004