More than a few Juden were in the "Intelligence, Interrogation and Imprisonment" divisions of the concentration camps, a fine job for sick fucks like these.
In the excellent Thomas Goodrich book, "Hellstorm," he has copied and printed the originals statements taken from those that saw what sick bastards the Jews were when put in charge. (Also on page 88 of Sack's book.) This happened at a concentration camp run by a CHAIM...
From Chapter 11 "Halls of Hell"
Near Lamsdorf, German women were force to disinter bodies from a Polish burial site. According to John Sack:Then there's the story of a another sadistic bastard, one Shlomo Morel, in charge of the Swietochlowice concentration camp in Poland. From page 108 of "An Eye for an Eye."
The women did, and they started to suffer nausea as the bodies, black as the stuff in a gutter, appeared. The faces were rotten, the flesh was glue, but the guards--who had often seemed psychotic, making a German woman drink urine, drink blood, and eat a man's excrement, inserting an oily five-mark bill in a woman's vagina, putting a match to it--shouted at the women..."Lie down with them!" The women did, and the guards shouted, Hug them!" "Kiss them!" "Make love to them!" and with their rifles, pushed on the backs on the backs of the women's heads, until their eyes, noses and mouths were deep in the Polish faces' slime. The women who clamped their lips couldn't even scream, and the woman who screamed had to taste something vile. Spitting, retching, the women at last stood up, the wet tendrils still on their chins, fingers, clothes, the wet seeping into the fibers, the stink like a mist around them as the marched back to Lamsdorf. There were no showers there and the corpses had all typhus, apparently, and all sixty-four women...died."
Often Dorota saw Shlomo at the morning and afternoon head-counts. He stood in his captain's stars as the guards whipped the women and men and one day he came to Dorota’s barracks and said, "All the sick people: out!" Among all the typhus victims was Dorota’s mother, and as a crew of prisoners seized her, she tried to cheer up Dorota by singing a Schubert song,When Polish authorities in later years found out about this criminal and started an investigation, Shlomo fled to Israel until the heat died down, the returned to Poland, all the while screaming that it was anti-Semites trying to prosecute him.
In a bright brook,
A capricious trout
Shot in happy haste
Like an arrow.
I stood on the bank—
but the prisoners said, "She's dying, she's crazy," and carried her out. Against regulations, Dorota crept to the barracks for dying prisoners and crawled through a window into it. Her mother lay amid urine and feces, and as Dorota washed her, the "doctor" at Swietochlowice strode in and shouted, "I'm going to punish you! You're getting three days in the Bunker," the cistern, the pool of cold water higher than Dorota’s head. "It will be your end," the doctor shouted, but Dorota came down with typhus before he could execute her.
When enough evidence had been obtained to prosecute Shlomo, he again fled to Israel and lived out his life there, free from prosecution.
More of Shlomo's evil....
By now Brehmer had many more documents, like one from a man who at age fourteen had been in Shlomo's brown barracks though he was a Dutchman, an ally of Poland's in World War II, I said I was a Dutch citizen. A man said, "You're lying. You're German, for the Dutch speak French. One night in the barracks, the boy had been beaten calamitously, I had no sensation left in me. The guards said "How is he doing?"and my buddies said, "He’s dying. "I can't print anymore, I'm getting nauseous, guess that comes from not being 'Chosen by G-d?'
His buddies took him to Shlomo's infirmary, "My body was green but my legs were fire red. My wounds were bound with toilet paper, and I had to change the toilet paper every day. I was in the perfect place to watch what went on at Swietochlowice. All the patients were beaten people, and they died everywhere: at their beds, in the washroom, on the toilet. At night I had to step over the dead as if that were normal to do." 
On healing, he’d joined the ascension crew, and at the Rawa he'd buried at least fifty people every day. One day Morel and his Audi appeared. He stood at the edge of the mass graves. He and I looked at each other, and he said, smiling, "So, comrade? Are you still alive?"
More of Shlomo's psychotic behavior, from page 70:
They slammed open the brown-barracks door. They switched on the lights, and the Germans rose so precipitously that a lot of the bedboards cracked, the men and boards crashing down on the Germans below, the Germans then screaming, the evening beginning. "Sing the National Anthem!" Shlomo said for varietys sake. "Sing it!"
"Germany, Germany, over everything...”
"Over everything in the world...”
"Holding together fraternally...”
"For defense and defiance...”
"Tall!" Shlomo cried to a tall blond man. "Lie down right here! Tall!" to another tall man. "Lie down beside him! Tall!" to another one. "Lie beside bim!"As soon as the three were lined up, Shlomo cried, "You! Lie on top of them, crosswise! No!" he said, clubbing the man. "I said crosswise! You!" he continued, and he kept piling up Germans, three this way, three that, till he had a human cube as high as a hand could reach. "All right!" Shlomo said, and his guests started swinging the clubs, whacking away at the cube as if they were hunters and it were a pod of Canadian seals. The air was thick with the grunts of the guests and the thud! of the wood upon bones. In the high tiers the Germans cried, "Bitte! Please!" the Germans in the center tiers moaned, but the Germans in the low tiers were mute, for the weight of the two dozen people on top had pushed their viscera out and the Germans were dying. "Pigs!" cried the party guests, pounding away, but Shlomo just leaned on a bed, watching, laughing like a meshugganer—a nut, his code name in the Jewish partisan.
The body count was enormous, but Shlomo was still aware of the six hundred brown-barracks men, the eighteen hundred "collaborator" men, and the six hundred "collaborator" women still alive. He himself didn’t touch them (he just touched the brown-barracks men) but the guards started beating them all: if they didn’t salute, if they didn’t say "Yes, sir" in Polish, if they didn’t pick up their hairs in the barber shop, if they didn't lick up their blood. The guards put the Germans into a doghouse, beating them if they didn’t say "Bow wow." They got the Germans to beat each other: to jump on each other's spines and to punch each other's noses, and if a German pulled his punches, the guards said, "I'll show you how," and hit the Germans so hard that they once knocked a German’s glass eye out. The guards raped the German women—one, who was thirteen years old, got pregnant—and trained their dogs to bite off the German men's genitals at the command of "Sic!"
One man was released, however: a man who'd once been at Auschwitz and who said now, "I’d rather be ten years in a German camp than one day in a Polish one."
Wikipedia slanders this book as anti-Semitic.
And what the inmates of the Gaza and West Bank concentration camps are very familiar with, since they are under the lash of the sick and twisted descendants of the original Jew Kommandents.