[Page 83]

Destruction of Dobromil

Ivan the peasant was smoking his pipe and with a sigh said to his friend Petro: “Yes, it was a mistake. Oh I long so much for the Mondays of former years. You remember, Petro, the Dobromil Fair? You sold some wood, a little food and entered the saloon right away for a drink. And if you happened to be lacking some money, Moshe the saloon keeper lent it to you? Let me have good years for the number of 'glasses' of which I cheated Moshe, let alone those for which I just haven't paid him. A block-head that Moshe”.

He sighed deeply, absorbed in his thoughts for a while at the window he then resumed talking: ….”I miss not only the drink but also Shya the 'healer'. How deft he was in fixing cupping glasses, how fast in pulling teeth? I still remember falling from a tree and breaking an arm. I thought I was going to part from this world but Shya the 'healer' immediately put leeches under my eyes and indeed I recovered right away. But to tell the truth, it is the drink for which you yearn mostly. Petro, let's go to town this coming Sunday. Ture, we cannot get drunk now in town but my desire to there is very strong. It's a long time

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since I was last in Dobromil. We should really go there and find out what's happening in the world”.

Ivan knew that Petro would not go to Dobromil. For years, he had not gone there even for meetings which everyone had to attend. He would always come up with excuses that you just had to believe him, the main one being that he was already old and sick and could hardly stand on his feet. But Ivan knew it wasn't true. He knew Petro only used it as a pretext. He must have other reasons. Who could tell what Petro carried on his conscience?

“You always explain to me, Petro that you cannot walk to Dobromil. All right. I have to believe you but you can still go by cart. True, my horse is very lean from the food I feed him and is almost as weak as you. Yet, I'll harness him to the cart and take you over to town. If the horse won't be able to carry the two of us, I'll walk behind it just as long as we go”. Petro unceasingly nodded 'no' with his head. “Stop nodding your head for 'no'”. Ivan became angry: “Tell me the truth. What's bothering you? I swear by the Holy Mother that I'll tell nobody.

Petro looked around and indicated to Ivan to come close. When I van was standing near him, he whispered in his ear: “Ivan, I cannot walk or run on the streets of Dobromil which are strewn with Jewish monuments. You see how old I am? I can hardly sleep at night. Has it ever occurred to you what the Germans and Ukrainians did to the Jews of Dobromil? Haven't you heard that they burnt the Rabbi and his Hassidim in the Beth-Hamidrash? I keep breathing ashes. I'm

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getting choked. Oh, my cough turns my intestines inside me. You, Ivan, go by yourself to Dobromil – go alone”.

Petro wanted to go on but the overpowering cough would not let him. Ivan looked at Petro with sympathy and thought how does he know all that? Prashka has probably told him. Ivan's conscience started gnawing at him. He started apologizing. “You think it's my fault that I executed the order of the Nazi by throwing the Jews of Dobromil into the Zope pit? I am still amazed at the calmness with which the Jewish women with their children in their arms jumped into the flames, as if it were a stream in which they were going to bathe. You know, Petro, the fact that the victims did not shout or cry has been torturing me. Had one of them at least tried to wrestle with me or spit in my face – how much easier would it before me now had they done that? Oh, how that scene chases me. How could so many Jewish women be so heroic?

Petro's eyes widened and a touch of panic got into them. With a thin and trembling voice, he uttered: “You, Ivan have known me for some fifteen years and you know that all these years I have lived on bread and potatoes. So I'm asking you now – what use have you for the clothes of Haim the hat maker who was hung?”

“It really was a mistake on my part to take the clothes of the unhappy Jew” replied Ivan in a broken voice. “Only now do I realize my mistake. But haven't the Folk-Germans of Dobromil learned that he

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He was hiding under the church bells when they murderously ran in and dragged him out? They carried him to a standing wagon and tied him to a wheel. They then harnessed two strong horses to the wagon and went galloping from the Magistrate to the railway station and back. You should have seen how the Jew looked when wagon-and-horse stopped? You couldn't say that it had been a human being. All that remained of his body was a pair of broken legs. Oh, how terrible it looked. A bit of liquor could help me chase away those nightmarish memories. Come Petro to Dobromil. Pull yourself together and come”.

Petro started to shed tears from his red eyes. Ivan asked him for a match-box in order to light his pipe which he had filled with bad tobacco. Petro handed him the matches saying: “You, Ivan, miss the liquor but I miss the bath of Dobromil that could warm my old bones. Let it be in the bath as long as you come along. After the bath you will sip some liquor and you'll see yourself how happy we will be. We shall even look different.

“You know, I even long for the music of Dobromil. You remember how Chlups the policeman used to play his trumpet at seven in the morning on the balcony of the Magistrate? I remember him always standing stiff and red-faced. No, I cannot go to town. I want to remain alone, to float on top of my thoughts among mountains and dales – those thoughts that no one, except God, has ever read.

“But Petro”, said Ivan while letting out smoke rings from his mouth, “Let us not forget one important

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thing. You must have known Melech the Shochet? Well, the Folk-Germans forced him to slaughter Iche the butcher as if he were a cow. And when Melech Shochet refused to do that, they tied him with the butcher together like cows and slaughtered them with Melech the Shochet's large slaughtering-knife”.

Petro felt a pressure in his throat. They both went out and sat under a tree. The place where they were sitting was a high mountain. Below, in the valley, a shepherd drove his cattle to the stall. The hot sun hid behind a thick cloud. The two friends sat still. Coughing, Petro broke the silence: “I know what you lack, Ivan. You lack the priest and his confessional. Oh, could you only confess to him. The priest would sprinkle you with a little Holy Water and you would feel much more at ease”. “T'is true. I do miss the pries”, Ivan answered with a sigh – “But also Jewish artisans are lacking. It was a great mistake not to leave Abraham the tailor and Jacob the shoemaker. Throughout these years they could be very useful to us. We are threadbare and our shoes are torn. Even for money I cannot get anyone to repair my boots and my feet are always wet”.

Ivan showed Petro his torn boots with his protruding toes. But Petro did not look at them. He was very much interested in additional details about the slaughter of Dobromil. And in order to make Ivan come out with them, he started talking:

“You know, Ivan, it seems to me that God might forgive you for telling the truth. God wants only the truth. You cannot buy your way out with him”. – “Yes, the truth” sighed Ivan: “Where do you

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find the truth now-a-days? I know only one thing, Petro, that as I talk to you about all this, my heart becomes lighter. The Germans cheated not only God but also us, the peasants. They promised us the Jewish houses, the belongings and the goods of which we had robbed them. I shall never forget how the Germans shot several of our peasants for not having complied with their order to hand them over the plunder. After the shooting of the peasants, who were, by the way Poles, the Ukrainians, out of fear, gave the Magistrate everything they had hidden out of the spoil. What did we achieve then? We were mistaken. We cheated our own selves. Petro, my friend, come with me to Dobromil. Promise me that next Sunday you'll come with me to town?”

“No, Ivan. I can't, you go alone. And when you go, tell me. I want to ask you to do me a favour. I want you to take my watch for repair if you can find a watchmaker. I shall also give you my golden ring to sell so you will have money to pay for the repair. You can also take Parashka. Since her son went to the army, she has not been to town”.

Petro swore. “I believe you, Petro that you will keep the secret. And here is what I have to tell you: Parashka brought up all of Lichtman's grandchildren that were

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in the sawmill. Her large breasts always gave sweet milk in abundance. It so happened that one day, before the slaughter of the Jews of Dobromil, Parashka hid among the planks of the sawmill one of Lichtman's daughters-in-law who was pregnant. When she gave birth, Parashka herself took the baby and brought it to her father. The following day when she returned to the sawmill to see how the mother of the baby was, she found out that she had been killed. Parashka hid the baby at her parent's house and pretended that she herself was pregnant by wrapping her belly with rages and when “she gave birth”; the whole village thought it was her boy. Well, Petro, what have you got to say about this? Speak up Petro!”

“I prayed to God for you, Ivan. Do you hear the thunder? This is a proof that God forgives your sins. Go on, tell me about the happenings in the sawmill”. “Yes, the sawmill” – Ivan dragged the words. “It is hard to relate what happened there. We all thought that among Jews there is no heroism; we were always of the opinion that Jews are cowards but what I saw in the sawmill comes to witness that it is not true. I shall tell you more: When there was no more work for the Jews at the sawmill, the Germans ordered them to dig a very large and deep hole. Many Jews were standing in the pit and could not grasp what it was needed for. Suddenly they heard a shout ordering them to leave the pit. But it was very difficult to get out of the pit. You should have seen how cleverly they got out of it and they even managed to pull out the old and the weak. A wild cry from the Germans ordered them to stand in a row facing the pit. Only then

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did the Jews understand what was going to happen. They all took one another's hands, very quietly murmured something with their lips and right away you could hear shooting of the machine guns.

Petro could not stand it any longer. He started to cough strongly. His complexion suddenly turned as yellow as wax. Ivan got panicky thinking Petro had had a stroke but Petro soon recovered and said: “Tell me more, Ivan. I'm curious to know if the Jews of Dobromil were murdered in the sawmill in one day”? “No, Petro. Many of them died before. I remember the Germans ordered all the Jews to assemble in the Ringplatz. When they were assembled, a German sternly inquired who had taught the Jewish children religion. Immediately two Jews left the line saying they were the ones. But the Germans wanted only one of them saying that he was to be crucified just as Jesus had been by the Jews. It was the first time I ever witnessed a quarrel between two teachers; each of them claiming that he was the real teacher. One of the teachers, who did not even have the look of a Jew – not even in his clothes – approached the German and told him to ask Volf, the school director, who was the religion teacher. The director pointed at the teacher Steckel. Within minutes, the victim Steckel was led to a pole and was hung. But this was not enough. The furious German shouted that the teacher who had taught the children to cheat the Christians should also step forward. Immediately, Fuchs, who had just quarrelled with the other teacher, stepped forward. The German handed him a hammer and nails and ordered him

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to nail the hung man to the pole. Fuchs, who was not a teacher but a tutor, refused to take the hammer and nails. The German raised his voice in a louder command and when he still refused to do it, the German ordered the hangmen to hang him, not by his throat but by his feet so that the ravens should eat him alive. It was done immediately and the unhappy tutor was indeed eaten up by the birds.

The peasants still believe that the religion teacher Steckel descended the pole back into the sinning world and wanders about like Christ. I myself saw him once but in my dream. Many peasants swear that they saw the crucified Steckel coming out of the synagogue at Dobromil before it was destroyed. They saw him going out from there many a night.

You want to know what happened to the rest of the Jews of Dobromil? They were dragged like cattle to the Jewish cemetery! They were made to pull out the monuments, carry them into town and to pave the streets with them. You know the muds of Dobromil? Imagine now how the town must look today”!

Petro began feeling bad but he pulled himself together and uttered a desperate cry: “And Rosenfeld”? “Oh, you mean Rosenfeld the flour-seller”? Ivan asked – “You had any business with him? All the peasants used to fear lest Rosenfeld should cheat them but I never feared him. When I used to come to Pan Rosenfeld with my wheat-wagon and ask him how much it was, he would answer that I could stand near my wagon and keep an eye on it. Let me have so many good years as many shoves of wheat I have stolen from him when he turned his back to me! He was a good Jew

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that Rosenfeld. But he didn't know how to add one to one. As I heard, he was buried alive with his youngest child. I still remember Mechel the “egg-eater”. His surname was Dym. Why they called him “egg-eater” I don't know. Maybe it was because nobody knew what he used to do with all those many eggs he bought from the peasants. Mechel was also thrown in and buried alive and this because he refused to cover with earth the grave in which Rosenfeld was lying, still alive. The story goes that Mechel asked to be taken to his youngest child because he had something to tell him but when the child stood near him; they threw both of them into the grave and covered them with earth”.

Petro remained motionless. Only his beard quivered a little. Looking at Petro's beard Ivan recalled how Fraim the beadle had been hung by his beard; how Shyia the barber was forced to cut the beadle's feet with a razor. When he refused, he was burned alive together with the beadle. Ivan could still imagine that terror. Oh how it pierced him through that sight of the fire rising to the sky! Black clouds suddenly covered the sky and immediately a strong wind started to blow accompanied by thunder and lightning.

Ivan uttered a cry: “Get up, Petro – get up”. Petro did not move. Ivan observed blood coming out of his nose. He ran to him and shook him but Petro was dead. Ivan cried out aloud near the shack of the peasants but nobody heard him. The peasants were far away at their work. Not knowing what to do, Ivan put Petro's corpse on his back and went with it into the village, but the rain grew stronger and

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stronger and the earth – softer. Ivan did not halt and carried the corpse farther. Then he slid and Petro's corpse rolled down into the valley.

On the day following the rain-storm, the peasants realized that Ivan and Petro were not in the village. The head of the village ordered the peasants to go to the fields and to the mountain to look for them. The peasants found a wounded corpse. The corpse was carried into the village and put into what had once been a church and now an assembly place. The head of the village ordered someone to go into Dobromil and inform the police. A peasant took to harnessing his horse preparing himself to go to Dobromil. When the peasant was about to take out some straw from his stable he suddenly saw Ivan lying there. The peasant tried to wake him and pulled at his shirt but Ivan did not move. The peasant thought that Ivan was dead. In great confusion, he ran out and told the other peasants what he had seen. The peasants ran in right away and shook Ivan but he was lying dead, holding in his hand the watch and the ring. The peasants ran out again very scared and went to the head of the village. One of them told him he could swear the watch and ring had belonged to Petro. The head ordered them to carry Ivan out of the stable. When the peasants did this, Ivan suddenly woke up! The peasants dropped him crying: “Oh Jesus” and ran away.

Then two policemen can and arrested Ivan.

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A judge and two lawyers arrived from Przemysl. The solicitors entered Ivan's prison chamber but he would not answer them. He only nodded his head 'no'. One of the solicitors did not get tired and went in again but this time Ivan answered him in a slurred manner – he answered and only God heard and understood.

The day of the trial came. The court room was full of peasants. Ivan looked at the three judges with blank eyes. “Are you Ivan Proshevitch?” the President of the Court asked. Ivan moved his lips but no one in the hall could hear him. “No one heard, answer louder” said the Judge. “His name is indeed Ivan Proshevitch” said Parashka, standing up from her seat among the peasants. Whisperings began among the peasants. “Why don't you answer yourself?” turned the Judge to the defendant, angrily. “I answered but no one heard”.

The judge read the statement of accusation and asked the defendant if he pleaded guilty. Ivan did not answer. Parashka, the main witness, was being called out. She took the oath that she would tell the truth. The Judge asked her if the watch and ring had belonged to Petro. Parashka burst into tears, crossed herself and answered that the watch had belonged to Petro who had lived at her parents' house.

The District Attorney stressed the fact that the ring had been found in the possession of the defendant

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and that was the best proof that he had slain Petro in order to rob him.

The Judge turned to the leading solicitor and asked him if he had visited the defendant in prison? The solicitor answered: “yes” but the defendant did not answer his questions. All he heard from him was: “It is a mistake”.

The doctor who had examined Petro's body was called out. He explained that since Petro's corpse was bruised, he could not find out the cause of death. The only thing he could say was that when the clothes were taken off the corpse, something, that Jews call a 'talith' was found on his naked body.

“Is this a proof that the deceased was a Jew”? asked the judge. “Sure enough” answered the doctor. “He was circumcised”.

A noise in the courtroom erupted. The Judge beat his gavel against the table to quiet down the crowd. The defendant Ivan started shaking in his chair; crossed himself and cried out, weeping: “Petro, Petro – if only I could, I would have buried you with the talith that was found on you! Yes, Petro, you were my priest to whom I confessed so open-heartedly!”

The Judge beat his gavel with strength to quiet the room. He turned to the defendant: “Did you know that Petro was a Jew”? “I wish I had known. I would have honoured him so much. I would have shared with him my bread. But not it's too late. I am ready to be punished for my sins, for the disaster that we brought upon the Jews

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of Dobromil. Parashka is clean. She argued from the start that we should not help the Germans because were cheating ourselves”. The solicitor demanded that the witness Parashka be called out again. Parashka takes her place at the witness stand. The solicitor asked her if she had known that Petro was a Jew and if it was true that he had lived with her parents all that time. Parashka winked to a neighbour of hers who was sitting in the hall among the peasants. The peasant approached her and handed her a folded shawl. Parashka unfolded the shawl and a Seffer-Torah emerged from it. Another tumult in the courtroom. Many peasants murmured: “We knew she was a friend of the Jews. Whoever is a friend of the Jews is an enemy of something”. The Judge turned to Parashka and ordered her to tell the court all that was known to her.

“Twenty years ago”, she started, “I worked in the sawmill for the Lichtmans. I brought up his grandchildren. The Lichtmans were very good to me and I always felt like one of them. One day before the slaughter of the Jews that were in the sawmill, one of Moshe Lichtmans daughters-in-law who was hiding among the plants, was about to give birth. I and Petro, who was actually Moshe Lichtman, delivered the baby with our own hands. We wrapped the baby in a blanket. Pan Moshe told me to take the child and hurry with it to my parents who lived at the time in Niezankowice not far from Dobromil. For several months, I wrapped my belly with rags so that people might

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think I was pregnant. One day after the slaughter, Pan Moshe came to our house. I didn't recognize him that much he had changed. Had he not given me the sign of the baby, I wouldn't have believed it was he. My father shaved his beard and put him into the clothes of my uncle Petro (who had died two weeks previously). And from that time on, we called Pan Moshe “Petro”. My father objected only to one thing: the fact that Pan Moshe brought with him the small Seffer-Torah. But I convinced my father to put it in the cellar, the

Walter Artzt – his far and wide experiences

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grandfather taught him Judaism. It is impossible to describe the love between grandfather and grandson. Now he is already in the Russian Army and writes to me often. Petro himself used to read his letters to me”.

“Have you at least a letter to show?” asked the solicitor. Parashka took out a letter from her purse and handed it over to the solicitor. It was the District Attorney's turn now and he proved that the defendant was the murderer of “Petro” – the hidden Jew, Moshe Lichtman. All signs pointed to it. The best proof was that the defendant himself did not answer what he was asked; he really had nothing to answer. The District Attorney demanded capital punishment by hanging. The fact that a watch and a ring were found in the defendant's possession is proof that he had murdered “Petro”.

The defendant is entitled to speak last but he wants to say nothing. He thinks: and if I say something will they believe me? Go, go away with your false play. My heart and soul did not leave me even twenty years ago. And you are guilty not only of Petro's death but you also helped abolish the Jews of Dobromil. It is the same to me now. I am anyway as good as dead. I want to go to “Petro” to swing with him among the dales and on the mountains.

Ivan fell back on his bench but the two policemen who guarded him put him on his feet again and held him under the armpits. They sentenced him to death by hanging. Weeping was heard in the courtroom.

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War memories

Before the Russians occupied Dobromil we had been under German rule for three weeks. During this time the Germans caused great panic among the population. Together with my three sons, I fled to Stry. The Germans killed 620 Jews in Przemysl, among them the local rabbi Reb Moshe Meyzels.

After having robbed and murdered the Jews all over Galicia for three weeks, the Germans retreated to the western bank of the San River. Then all the Jews of Western Galicia fled to the Russian side. In every town and village occupied by the Germans, orders were issued for the place to be “judenrein” (clean of Jews) within ten minutes. The Jews in Western Galicia took their little children and all fled to the Russians. To Dobromil alone, 640 Jews came, all of them hungry and naked and there was no shelter for them. Those that had relatives in Dobromil were taken in by them and the families shared their last piece of bread with the refugees. The rabbi of Dobromil had the benches taken out of the women's rooms in all synagogues so as to provide shelter for the homeless Jews.

Since the town was overcrowded and funds were exhausted, the refugees appealed to the Russians for

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help and were given 2-3 roubles each to buy bread with. The Russian commander suggested to Kirik the photographer who worked for the Russians, to organize a relief campaign in which I was also invited to participate. Two policemen came to take me to the commander. When he saw that I was frightened, he reassured me and said that there were many hungry refugees in Dobromil and that something ought to be done to help them. He offered me a couple of thousand roubles for this purpose but I declined to accept this offer because such a sum would not be enough to help 640 refugees for any considerable length of time. I proposed to set up a committee of all 4 nationalities living in Dobromil so that we might unite our efforts to help those in need.

The commander liked my plan very much and we founded a committee consisting of: Eliezer Kremer, Moshe Ratner, Yasha Miller, Zishe Tziffer, and from among the Christians: Mulitzki (the locksmith), Bronek Wolf (one of the Volksdeutschen) and a Pole (whose name I do not remember). We also employed Hudel Segal (as a paid secretary because the Segal family had no other source of income), Leitche Hechel and my wife. We decided to open a soup-kitchen in Schmuel Loewental's shop. Two large kettles were brought from Przemysl, tables and benches were put up (the latter taken out of the Bathei-Midrashim

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by orders from the rabbi). My wife and Leitsche Hechel went from house-to-house to collect crockery. The kitchen was kept open till late at night. Whoever came in hungry left satiated and warmed-up.

Two refugee girls did the cooking. We also had a list of women who volunteered to take turns at peeling potatoes and serving out the meals. The soup-kitchen existed for over a year and the Jews of Dobromil contributed groceries and food. In spite of bad conditions, the people of Dobromil made every effort to help the refugees who had come to their town.

The committee also assumed the functions of the community (Kehilla) and levied taxes on weddings, etc., the proceeds going to the upkeep of the kitchen. Those who were ashamed to come to the soup-kitchen were given the meals at their homes. At the Purim-meal organized for the refugees in 1940, one of them, a rabbi thanked the committee with touching words causing those present to shed tears.

After some time, the Russians put all refugees into closed railway-trucks and at the station; nobody was allowed to contact them or even to give them some water. We appealed to the Russian commander on their behalf and he gave us permission to bring them food. On the eve of the Sabbath, we went from house-to-house and collected foodstuffs. Everybody, rich and poor, gave their share. With the permission of the rabbi of Dobromil, we collected 6000 roubles and gave them to the refugees on their way. One night they were sent away from Dobromil. Later on we learned that they had been sent to Siberia and many of them survived. When we were still in Dobromil, they asked us for help and we

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sent them food-parcels and Matzoth for Passover. But this could not go on for long because Dobromil became poorer every day. Everything was taken away from the wealthy people and there were no sources of income. All those who had previously helped strangers and kinsmen were no themselves compelled to ask for help and there was none that could help.

This was the state of affairs while the Russians were in Dobromil. Every native of Dobromil certainly remembers Leibishi Treger (his nickname was 'Leibishl Dalles'). Hard work and poverty had made him blind and his wife and two daughters became insane and roved the street and there was nobody to look after them. When my wife Mintche the Tuckerin gave Leibishl Dalles some food, which they hardly could afford to do, he wept bitterly. He still was a proud human being and wanted to live only on his own earnings.

The luck of his home and ours did not last. On 22^nd June, 1941, when Hitler attacked Russia, all railway stations were bombed. All roads of escape were threatened by bombs being dropped from German planes. We fled to Drohobicz in a horse-cart. When we arrived there the town was already on fire. There we met many people from Dobromil who, seeing that the Germans would overtake them, returned whence they had come. With great efforts, we managed to get on the last train. There we also found Faivel Kremer with his wife and child, Joel Sheininger also with wife and child and Eliezer Kremer. Because his wife Sarah was in Dobromil, he went back home. On Friday night we boarded the freight train but only on Saturday night when the bombing subsided a bit, the train

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started to move, nobody knew where to. During the journey the train was bombed and many were killed. When we arrived at Dnieprodzierzhinsk, we were sent to work on a Kolkhoz. There we were not so badly off. We were given some food and shelter. We were together with some single boys and girls who had escaped from Poland. This lasted for six weeks and then we had to flee on towards the Caucasus. On the way, my boys were recruited for digging trenches. On the way we met again, as by a miracle

Berish Kramer as he wandered in Russia during the last World War

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One night when Russian tanks were passing by, a Russian officer came in and asked us for a piece of soap to wash his hands. He told us to run away from this place too because the Germans were very near. The same night my eldest and my youngest sons were drafted into the army. The middle one was not taken because he had a certificate from the Dobromil Red Cross that he was a dental mechanic. We left with our belongings. There, thousands were waiting for a train but soon German planes came and killed many of them. Luckily for us, our two boys soon arrived with some young recruits on an open freight train carrying oil seeds. They made us sit on the seeds and so we travelled for three months as far as Central Asia. What we suffered during these three months is indescribable.

For 18 months we did not know where our sons were. Thanks to our former landlady in the Caucasus, we finally found out and kept up correspondence with them until the end of the war. We stayed in Central Asia until March, 1946. After the war, the children joined us there.

On 22^nd March, we went back from Russia to Poland. When we returned to Poland, we could not find a single living Jewish family. Instead of welcoming Jews who returned from Russia, the Poles killed them or threw stones at them so we immediately fled from our old homestead that was in ruins.

We passed through Silesia whence the Brigade helped the Jews to cross the borders in Germany and Austria. We went to an Austrian D.P. camp in the American zone. There we stayed for five years. In January 1952, we arrived in America.

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I remained in Dobromil and made a good living but it lasted only until the Germans attacked the Russians on 22^nd June, 1941.

They started at once to bomb and shoot from machine-guns – the railway station of Dobromil, the military airport, barracks, stores and the population itself. A few days later, the Germans entered our town. They posted placards ordering all the Jews to assemble in the marketplace where they would explain how to behave in time of war. Whoever would be missing and caught later would be shot on the spot.

Everybody came to the assembly. On one side were parked large cars. Officers arrived with the Chief in Command of the town. They combed the crowd and picked 50 young Jews whom they put in the cars and took away to an unknown destination. Only a few days later a Christian from Latzk told that the youths had been taken to the pit.

The man saw with his own eyes how they were thrown alive into graves and disappeared from the surface.

The Jews that remained in the marketplace had to disappear within five minutes lest they be shot

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like dogs. Everybody started running. Everyone pushed forward to hide in houses and in cellars. I ran into Leibtche Gablinger's house and hid in the cellar where I stayed for three days fearing to go out. David Klein's two boys were with me. After three days we went out with great fear. I hurried home for no one had known where I was. We were forbidden to put on any light. The town was in a state of panic and terror.

A few days later the Germans established a Jewish Committee consisting of: Yosha Miller; Lippa Teitelbaum; the lawyer Reiner and the lawyer Kartan as well as a Jewish police force.

New decrees came pouring in: Jews had to enlist for different jobs like cleaning the town and the gardens. Then the Germans ordered the Jews to evacuate their apartments at the Ringplatz, the Railway Road, the Hichik Road and the Chirow Road. They themselves took everything. Everybody was chased into the old marketplace and it was packed. Whoever remained in one's apartment in the above-mentioned streets had to board up the front door, no lights were allowed and no one was allowed to leave the house. Death was everywhere. Jews were forbidden to shopping, even on market day.

When the Germans entered the town for the second time, Yosef Asher Richter (the son of Shmuel Richter) hung himself in the attic. Also, Israel Berger and his wife (who were living in Melech Dim's house) did the same at their home. These people were looked for several days until they were found hanging. Israel Berger's door had to be broken down.

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When the Germans entered the town they caught men, women, children, old and young and drove everybody into the large synagogue. They then locked it, poured benzene on all sides as well as around the Beith-Hamidrash, the Belser Klose and put fire to all of them. Nothing remained of the synagogues and the Jews.

Later on, when there was no assembly place, people used to steal into Rabbi Zeidel's home on the “Shistergas” to say a Kadish. But the assassins would sometimes fall upon the people there, beat them and chase them away.

Jews were taken to work. They were led to the yard of the Puritz Jurasky in Binevitch but instead of putting them to work, the Germans killed them. The Germans also used to take people to work in Lisko and on the Posada and give them a terrible beating. In those places where there were Ukrainians, the beatings were far worse.

All of a sudden Jews were brought from the villages to the town. They were put together in a small place, one on top of the other, without any protection from rain or cold. Whoever possessed a fur coat, warm regular coats, pelted hats or various fur garments had to bring it to the Magistrate, that was filled up to the ceiling with winter garments. The action was led by the Jewish Committee whose members knew who possessed what. And if someone failed to bring what one was supposed to, the Gestapo was informed of it.

On the 15^th day of Av, 1942, all Jews with their families had to show up in one place. I decided not to go but my family implored that I should go, arguing that

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should we be found out, we would be killed. So I also went with my family. Arriving at the place of assembly, I was shocked: Betzalel Turk was lying, bleeding on the ground near Lazer Hecht's shop. Also, other dead Jews were lying on the ground or in their wagons. We were taken to the railway station with the pretext that they were taking us to work. In the railway station there were many corpses. They then took us to Ushinsky's sawmill. At the gate, armed Germans demanded to hand over to them our gold and money saying we were going towards our death anyway. They took the parcels we were carrying. Walking a little farther, I saw Kartan the lawyer's father-I n-law in his stovepipe hat and his tailcoat also lying dead after having been beaten by the Gestapo. Around him there were Jews who had bled to death.

My whole family was taken with me to Oshinsky's sawmill. My wife Menzi Rosa (Chaim Mendle's daughter) with the two sons, Aaron Moshe and Yehudah Hersh, my father Feivel Mirele's with my mother Malkah (born in Yavorov), Yehudah Hersh Eisenbruch's daughter Sheindel; my sister Sheindel with her husband and child (the husband's name was Yaakov Treiber); my wife's mother Roize Shmuelbach with a daughter; Israel Shmuelbach's wife with the children; and Loozer Kremer with his wife Sarah (Mirele's daughter).

Then, Gestapo officers walked through the place and whoever they liked, they pointed at with their finger and called: “Come out, Jew!” No one knew what it meant. I was pointed at twice but I pretended not to have seen although my wife urged me to go saying that it might save my life. But I did not want

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to leave her alone with the children. At last I went. I underwent much trouble and remained alive but my family perished in Belzetz.

They made us walk to Przemysl. Whoever felt tired and sat down to rest on the way, was shot. They took us to the prison on Kegatcherni Street and kept us there for three days. We were so terribly crowded together that there was no place even to stand. The weather was very hot but we received no food and not even water to drink. They then took us to Frenkel's Mill on Lemberger Weg where they made a new selection of those capable of work and those not capable.

We worked there and at night went to sleep in the concentration camp accompanied by the Germans. The food and sleeping bunks were bad and dirty. The camp was surrounded by barbed wire and a heavy guard. Some Germans used to inform us of coming 'actions' and everybody was ready to hide in his bunker. Whoever succeeded remained alive, the others were taken away to their death.

Once, when I did not have a bunker, I started running with a group but the Germans chased us with their hounds and caught many. I was saved by a miracle. After such an 'action' we stayed three days in our holes. Later on they reduced the size of the camp. There was also a Heading Committee and Camp Commander Schwanberger. He always prohibited food to be brought to the camp. If he saw anybody buying food from a civilian Christian, he would come into his room and kill him.

Every night they “tithed”, i.e. selected. Two

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German officers told every tenth person to stand aside. So 50-60 people were picked out every evening and on the next morning we would find them dead. The dead-wagon carried their corpses to the cemetery on the way to Dobromil. We could not guess how they had been killed for there were no signs of blood!

One day the wagon came to pick up the dead and suddenly one of the dead was observed opening his eyes a little. He was taken to the hospital immediately and his life was saved. Later on he told us how the two officers tortured the people to death. One officer was called Ludwig. In various ways they tortured the victims without using any arms and without shedding blood. According to the story of the saved man, they would not even believe that the people were dead until they lit a match and put it at their noses to have full proof. The saved man was from Nizankowitze, the son of a butcher. A few days later the lot fell on me as well as on other Jews from Dobromil. Pietnitze and Neustad. When the under-officer went on leave, we were detained in the same shop where we had worked in Frenkel's Mill. Two hours later, Under-officer Ludwig came and told us to go back inside Frenkel's Mill. He started torturing us at the same time closing the gate so that no one could see it from the street. Before going home, he rehearsed the Inquisition. Upon detaining the selected victims, he observed that two Jews were missing – I and Naftali Ratz (Shamail Ratz' son). He immediately ran after the group asking the leader to take out the two of the group. Hearing it, Naftali Ratz ran into a house and I followed him. Then the Chief of the Camp, Lieberman, pursued us and only after

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going back a mile, beat us murderously then tied me, bleeding, to a tree.

A month later an 'action' took place. It started on the 8^th day of Kisslev. We were waiting for the car that used to take us to Dobromil. It was supposed to arrive at night but when it did not arrive, we decided to leave the camp. From Neishtadt there were also two brothers from Felshtin and a few from Dobromil.

We took off the Mogen-Dovids from our arms and with difficulty got out of the camp. It was snowing heavily and there was a terrible frost. From the Dobromiler Weg we arrived at the Mallivitch Mountain where we parted; we went to Dobromil and those from Neishtadt went to Neishtadt. We entered Moshe Leist's house in the ghetto and from there, through the bricks, to the house of Mendel Feivish's brother where we stayed for two days. They went to work and we locked ourselves inside. The Jews in town, upon finding out that we were there, came to inquire about their acquaintances and family members from Przemysl. Among those hiding was a girl from Sanok whose brother was hiding in the Dobromil ghetto. She advised me to go to my sister Chana Mirel so that her brother could be brought in my place. During daytime, I was at home and at dawn U would go into the storage room to avoid being caught by the Jewish Committee with my sister. At night people would come to ask about their relatives. Abba Ungvirt used to stay with me whole nights and talk. Shimon Feivishe's son and Mintche Shantz with her husband (she was Yaakov Shantz's daughter, the baker), they were left to bake bread for the population and were sure they would

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remain alive. But they perished during the Action on the 16^th day of Kisslev.

At that time the 'actions' suddenly became worse than before. In a cruel way the Germans killed the small children. On Tcernietzkego Street in Przemysl the Germans broke the children's heads by throwing them one at the other. Very few Jews saved themselves from the murderous hands at that time. In the middle of the night we saw a fire in which the victims were burned. Realizing that there was no use in suffering any longer, we got together – people from Dobromil, Sanok and others – in order to leave that hell. From Dobromil there were: Itche Beck, two brothers of Dov Klein-Yehoshua and Itche and Dov Klein and the shoemaker's small children. Upon leaving after nightfall, two Christians saw us and promised to take us to a certain way out where nobody would see us, provided there would be two groups. Itche Beck was in the first group and I stayed with the other which included the two brothers of Klein and the others. When the first group left, we climbed over a wall, jumped to the other side and disappeared. To this day, I do not know the fate of the first group. The plan was to go to the Dobromiler Castle but unfortunately, it was impossible to make such a long distance in one night so we entered the Przemysl Cemetery, rested there and continued to Trishevitz. Cattle grazed among trees. Young shepherds took us for Christians. We walked for a long time in intervals and arrived at the centre of Dobromil. It started to rain so we went into a loft of the chapel and in the evening into the Jewish cemetery. In the morning, we went into a barn of Spalinsky. On

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the second day I went to Kassian, the Ukrainian baker, and asked him to sell me a loaf of bread. He said he was forbidden to sell me bread because I was a Jew; instead, he fed me and cut two bread loaves into pieces so that it would not be whole bread loaves and told me to come again. We stayed there until there came rumours that the Germans were coming. Suddenly, Karolke Stock came with several Germans and told Mrs. Spoliansky to take them in and give them board and food. When the woman said she could not do that, she was threatened with hard labour in Germany.

In Latke's Mill we rested and planned something new. We went to Lindhart's house and asked for something to eat. He told me to go with him to the stable because he did not want his family to know. He gave us food but only in the stable when no one saw. We then decided to go to the Castle where other Jews were. With bread, we went there unseen by any one, but sitting a few hours in the cellar we heard people walking and talking Yiddish. One of them fell on us in the dark crying: “Jesus Maria”. We answered: “Shema-Israel”. They then explained to us that they were from Sambor from where they had walked on foot and lived here, masked. We did the same. It also happened that some of us went looking for food and did not return. I and David Klein's children did not want to stay here any longer so we went back to the Christian Leon, but he was afraid to take in Jews and only gave us food. In the meantime, we entered an empty house. In the morning we were afraid again to go out so we hid in the cellar to protect ourselves against the frost. I then went to the cobbler and

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asked him to sell me some food. He fed me but did not want to take any money.

On the second week I went to Kriavitch and on the third week to Vishnievsky. Upon my request to let me in, he answered that his son-in-law collaborated with the Germans but he sent me to Frank Kupnitzky's (the carpenter). I did not go and later on I found out that he informed the Germans about me and had I gone where he sent me, I would have been captured. Another attempt had failed: Itche went to Michael Kushe at Mulitzky's. What they did to him, I do not know but we saw from the mountain the light of a pocket-lamp and we heard a few shots. We were afraid that as a result of the possible beating he might have informed them about us so we hid in the litter until the following day. Later on we were informed that he had been given food but the people immediately called the Gestapo who shot him and Stach buried him later on. Since he had with him all the money, his brother remained without a penny to his name.

After that tragic episode, I went to Yon Tatcharsky and asked that his wife wash a shirt for me. I gave them two shirts, a golden watch and asked for a slice of bread. When I came to him a second time, he said he had something important to tell me. He told me that my father appeared to him in his dream, clad in his Shabath garments and said that his son would be coming to him soon. He then gave me food.

So I continued to wander, continuously in danger until I was liberated by the Russians.

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