There comes a point when traipsing through the forest that is the Sunday papers that a story halts you in your smudgy-fingered tracks and spins your mind to the point that no more reading is required.

Such was the case when I discovered a small obtituary in The Sunday Times announcing the death of Salamo Arouch.

Unfamilar? You could be, but shouldn’t be, for his is a compelling and harrowing tale and a testament to human fortitude.

Born in Thessaloniki in 1923 to Greek Jewish parents, Arouch was the boxing middleweight champion of the Balkans before his career was cut short by World War II and the German invasion of Greece.

With thousands of other Jews across the region, the Arouch family was sent to Auschwitz-Birkenau, where the female members of his family were gassed on arrival.

Forced into slave labor with his father and younger brother, Arouch’s notoreity as a boxer led to his forced participation in matches held for the amusement of the Nazi’s at the camp on Wednesday and Sunday evenings.

These were, of course, no ordinary fights – they were fights to the death, with the last man standing given bread, soup, and another day of life, while his opponent would be executed later that evening.

For two years, Arouch fought up to three times a week, knowing death lurked in a single defeat.

Of all his bouts, the staunchest was a German-Jewish boxer called Klaus Silber, who had an undefeated pre-war amateur boxing record (44-0) and who had never lost any of his 100-plus fights at the camp.

The fight between Arouch and Silber was so fierce that at one point both fighters were thrown from the ring.

Nevertheless, Arouch was left standing, while Silber was never seen alive again.

When quizzed on his approach to the fights at Auschwitz, Arouch
conceded that  “I trembled. But a boxer had to be without compassion. If I didn’t win, I didn’t survive.”

By the time Arouch left slave labor, all of his family had been wiped out: his father was executed after becoming too ill to work, while his brother, Avram, was shot dead on the spot after refusing to pull gold teeth from those gassed in the ovens.

The experience of Arouch is boggling on so many levels: the tenacity and sheer terror each new fight must a brought amidst the already nightmarish conditions of the camps is unfathomable.

We talk of the malevolence of humankind often, but what of the strength?

Arouch’s experience comprises the most evil, most tragic, and most incredible dimensions of humanity and raises the spectre of the shadowy parts of history that can be forgotten, but never should be.