The Bergen-Belsen Banquet

Every October Chaim Fogel went to the Bergen-Belsen Survivors’ Banquet at the Plaza or at the Pierre. Naturally, he preferred the Plaza, because of the hors d’oeuvres: avocado appetizers, little cubes with fresh ground pepper on them and an outstanding Italian dressing. What did he care if the survivors crowded around the hors d’oeuvre table, a mob pushing furiously against each other to reach for a serving of smoked salmon with capers ox pâté en croûte, just the way they had pushed in the camp trying to get a spoonful of potato peel soup. It didn’t shame him. The irony wasn’t lost on him. It pleased him to see the people milling around, their mouths continually moving; either they were talking or they were chewing. He liked to look at the women, at their dresses: low-cut,...