AC. THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL FROM AUSCHWITZ: The Tragic Death of Betje Polak – The 13-Year-Old Girl with a FEARLESS Gaze in Her Final Moments in the GAS CHAMBER

When examining the history of the mid-twentieth century, the overwhelming statistics of wartime losses can sometimes obscure the individual lives behind the numbers. Millions of innocent civilians were uprooted, displaced, and lost during the tragedy of the Holocaust. Yet, historical memory relies on recovering individual stories—the children, students, and family members whose potential was cut short. Among them was Betje Polak, a young Dutch girl whose life ended at just thirteen years old. By remembering her name and sharing her journey, we honor her memory and restore a sense of human dignity to a dark chapter of global history.

Early Childhood in Rotterdam

Betje Polak was born on December 6, 1928, in the vibrant port city of Rotterdam, Netherlands. She was the younger child of Elsje and Salomon Polak and grew up alongside her older brother, Hartog. The family resided at Green Hilledijk 298a, a modest home situated in a lively neighborhood characterized by tree-lined streets, local shopkeepers, and close-knit community bonds.

Growing up in Rotterdam during the 1930s offered a peaceful childhood. Betje attended local schools, participated in family traditions, and spent her afternoons playing with neighborhood friends. Like many young girls of her generation, her world revolved around her studies, family gatherings, and the simple pleasures of urban Dutch life.

However, this tranquility was abruptly shattered in May 1940, when German forces invaded and occupied the Netherlands. At just eleven years old, Betje’s daily routine began to change dramatically as occupational policies gradually restricted the civil rights and daily activities of the Jewish population.

Escalating Restrictions and the Choice to Hide

Following the occupation, a series of administrative decrees systematically isolated Jewish citizens from public life. Children were removed from public schools, families faced strict curfews, and freedom of movement was severely curtailed. Despite these growing hardships, families across the Netherlands attempted to maintain a sense of normalcy and home life for their children.

By the summer of 1942, occupational policies shifted toward systematic forced relocation. On July 29, 1942, the Polak family received an official call-up notice instructing them to report for transfer to the Westerbork transit camp in the northeastern province of Drenthe. Facing an uncertain future and recognizing the grave dangers of deportation, Salomon and Elsje Polak made the agonizing decision to take their family into hiding.

For several weeks, the family lived in secrecy, relying on hidden locations and the courage of sympathetic local citizens who provided food and assistance at great personal risk. Living in hiding required complete silence, constant vigilance, and living under the perpetual threat of discovery.

Arrest and Deportation to Auschwitz

Tragically, on October 2, 1942, the family’s hidden refuge was discovered by occupational authorities. Betje, her parents, and her brother Hartog were arrested and immediately sent to the Westerbork transit camp. Westerbork served as the primary gathering point for civilians scheduled for transport to facilities in occupied Poland.

Shortly after their arrival at Westerbork, the Polak family was placed on a transport train bound for the Auschwitz concentration camp complex. The journey took several days under extremely harsh and overcrowded conditions, with little food, water, or medical care.

Upon arrival at Auschwitz on October 19, 1942, incoming detainees underwent immediate administrative processing. Tragically, thirteen-year-old Betje Polak and her parents were selected for immediate termination upon arrival. Betje’s life was cut short on October 19, 1942, alongside her mother and father. Her older brother, Hartog, was selected for forced labor but passed away two months later from extreme physical exhaustion and severe deprivation.

 

 

 

Like so many victims of the camp system, Betje left behind no marked grave or formal farewell—only her name recorded on administrative transport manifests and historical registers.

Historical Context of the Dutch Experience

Betje Polak’s story reflects the broader experience of the Dutch Jewish community during World War II. Prior to 1940, the Netherlands was home to approximately 140,000 Jewish residents, who had lived peacefully in Dutch cities for centuries.

During the occupation, approximately 107,000 Dutch Jews were deported through Westerbork and Vught to various camps in Eastern Europe. Of those deported, only about 5,200 survived the war and returned home. The loss represented over 75 percent of the country’s pre-war Jewish population—one of the highest proportions of loss in Western Europe.

Key historical archives document these transfers and preserve the record of those who perished:

  • Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum Archives: Maintains original transport manifests from Westerbork, documenting the October 1942 arrivals.

  • Yad Vashem Central Database of Shoah Victims’ Names: Preserves biographical profiles and witness statements submitted by surviving relatives and researchers.

  • NIOD Institute for War, Holocaust and Genocide Studies: Holds extensive documentation regarding the wartime administration and deportations from the Netherlands.

  • Joods Monument (Netherlands): A digital memorial dedicated to preserving the personal records, addresses, and family connections of the Dutch victims.

She was 13 when they took her. We give her back her name, forever.

Restoring Dignity and the Importance of Remembrance

Why is it essential to remember a thirteen-year-old girl from Rotterdam more than eight decades later?

When historical events are remembered solely through vast numbers, the human reality of the past risks being lost. Statistical figures can obscure the fact that every unit in those totals represents a real person—a child with dreams, a student with potential, and a cherished member of a family.

By speaking the name of Betje Polak, society restores a fragment of the identity and dignity that wartime systems sought to erase. Her story serves as a poignant reminder that the true cost of hatred and intolerance is measured in stolen futures and broken families.

Preserving the memory of young victims is not merely an act of memorialization; it is an active educational commitment. Remembering Betje Polak encourages future generations to uphold human rights, stand against discrimination, and build a world where every child can grow up in safety and peace. Her story endures as a powerful call to protect human dignity for all people.