The ''Dresden Barracks'', were since December 6, 1941, women were located, originally together with their children. In the cellar, there was a prison for prisoners to be punished. Some of the rooms were used for theater and other cultural performances. On the barracsks courtyard, the prisoners were permitted to play football. (The teams had 7 players.)


Tah rah rah boom dee ay! The crowds are tightly packed in the Dresden Barracks. Aging gray-haired old women grin from the windows, as well as sniggering boys and smirking young ladies. You can see the shining faces of important personalities and the unshaven faces of old men. A few brave ones are even sitting on the roof. Tah rah rah boom dee yay! "Ghettowache, stillgestanden" (Ghetto watch, halt). The band is playing. The conductor stands in front waving his baton. "Abteilung marsch" (Section, march), shouts the man with two stripes on his cap. The stamping of feet can be heard in the front entrance. Look, here's a man with piping down his trouser legs and epaulettes on his shoulders, behind him two commandants, then a captain and two sergeants. They are leading a group of about twenty dedicated ghetto cops in light blue uniforms. (In Haiti, there are 5,000 generals and 2,000 soldiers.) The company sways to the rhythm of the band and finally get themselves in line in the right place. At that moment the music ends in a thundering fortissimo and the spectators are forced to wait for quite some time. At last Ltiwenstein appears with his blue cap and inspects his army. He ceremonially shakes hands with the commanders and captains while the band plays promenade music. The spectators look on and snigger. When the inspection is over, Lowenstein goes and stands
in the middle of the courtyard, tugs at his collar and calls on the ghetto cops to swear obedience to their Judeniiltester (Chairman of the Council of Elders), the flltestenrat (Council of Elders) and to work for the good of Terezín. The brave ghetto police mumble the oath, which is noted with satisfaction by the spectators. Then Eppstein* appears, climbs up on a stool (perhaps this is meant to be symbolic) and delivers a longish speech in which he enumerates the tasks of the Ghettowache. In the meantime the important personages carry out their long delayed nose blowing, coughing, pulling up of trousers and such like. The speech finished, the order to march off is given so that the parade itself can be held. Indeed, a short time later you can hear the marching order being given from the neighboring exit. I nearly faint with surprise because I seem to be watching a regiment of ducks marching by. Strange... seven censored words... and when they appear the entire barracks were laughing, including the ghetto cops who were not in the parade. The Council of Elders watched condescendingly. The music suddenly stopped as if cut off, the ghetto cops lined up to start their march back to barracks, the Ghettohaus. Their departure was accompanied with shouts and acclamation unsurpassed by anything I have ever heard. "Do it again!" shouted buoyant children, and the Dresden barracks shook to the foundations. Since the men in uniform were already far too tired, they did not comply with this request and thus ended this unforgettable farce, the review of the ghetto army.

- Academy (Unknown author)


The yard of the Dresden barracks is crowded, packed so tight from the attic to the ground you couldn't fit a pin in. Fourteen players are runrung round the field. The match between Kleiderkammer and Kóche (Clothing Supply - Cooks) is under way. Kleíderkammer's left winger, Nací Fischer, attacks. The crowd hums with excitement. He comes ín on the goal, he shoots, but the goalkeeper dives after the ball and stops it. A mighty round of applause. The teams attack and defend, back and forth, and excitement in the crowd reaches a fever pitch, when one team scores a goal on itself.
The match is over. The spectators walk back to their quarters, but lively discussions continue. Suddenly a question comes up: suppose a ghetto team were to play in the Czech championships? Yes, everybody agrees, it wouldn't be any better than the average division club, although many consider them worse. But what does it matter? In Terezín we live in a ghetto, separated from the rest of the world by a thick wall. Kleiderkammer, Ghettowache, Ktiche are teams of league standard, fighting for the championship of the ghetto. In spite of all the shortcomings of football in Terezín, I think that it also has some great advantages. Why are the mighty Sparta-Slavia matches played in Prague? So that the spectators can see good football? No, sport has become a source of income for hundreds of people, a livelihood for thousands. Promoters, the officials, the players, the referees, all make money at it. The clubs don't play to become the best, they play for the money. The referees are bribed and so are the players. And the players don't play out of loyalty to the club, but merely to make a living.
But here in the Terezín football league, what do players on the winning team receive? And what do the organizers of the match get, when the Dresden barracks are bursting with spectators? Nothing. Here they play with true élan for their club. They play for the sake of playing and not for money. I think you can see far more self sacr~ce here than anywhere else. In the Kleiderkammer-Kóche match, Gliickner started with inflammation of the middle ear and a hígh temperature, yet he was one of the best players on the field. During the Hagibor Prague-Víenna match the ball went out of bounds, but the referee whistled a corner kíck for Hagibor. Prague's left wing Franta Leiner, good sportsman that he was, kicked the ball out of bounds. If we can play like this here in Terezín, where the world is upsíde down, wouldn't it be possible elsewhere too? Just as some poets call for "art for art's sake," so we call for "sport for sport's sake and not for money."

- Academy (Unknown author)