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on a wagon. The house was upside down, and everybody was sitting around with hanging heads. The windows were closed and the drapes drawn. Every so often we would step outside to see whether the fires had begun. We could see a red sky in the distance, which indicated another nearby location that was going up in flames. We could tell that the train station was being burned, as well as the courtyard near town.

        Looking around, we could see a small fire burning on some side street; it was a weak fire, and could be put out easily. Then we saw a fire on the street of the House of Study, then another fire, and yet a third. The fires became larger, and jumped from one side to the other; the two sides then joined together as one large flame. Behind the flames we could see the retreating Russian army; it was almost as if the flames wanted to serve as torches to show us their withdrawal.

        When we saw that the town was burning from all sides, we moved out of the house. The horse was harnessed, but because of the delay in soldiers' departure we couldn't leave. Some of them would go into a house looking for something, or to get a piece of bread. Others looked for an empty bed to sleep in. With great effort, we got away from the fire, going behind the house and garden, and then to the Vion.

        We could see men standing around: they were soldiers and Cossacks, and we wondered what would become of us. We were all alone, since everybody else had already moved to the other side of town. Our hair stood on end, and we started crying out " O, G-d, answer us in our time of trouble!" We screamed with all our strength; the fire raged, dancing like demons from one rooftop to the next. We suddenly heard Jewish voices – they were those of a few Jewish families and their wagons. This helped us relax a bit, and gave us courage. Our situation was just like being in a desert, when suddenly a person happens along an oasis. We spent the whole night talking about the fire, watching how everything was burning to ashes. The next morning, we took our belongings and went over the other side of the Vion with the rest of the populace.

        The town was almost entirely destroyed. Only a few houses were spared on Pinsk Street and in back alleys. Their owners paid off the bandits not to burn their houses. On the other side of town, on the Vion, all of our wagons and carts stood, together with the nervous animals that were tied to them.

        In the morning, the town looked like a cemetery. There was a deathly silence everywhere; no wagons, no Cossacks…..was it all over? The Russians had left, were the Germans going to arrive? No, it was only the calm before the storm. Crouching soldiers were heading towards the train tracks where their trenches were. It was Friday afternoon, and the weather was nice. Everybody was sitting out on the open grass; some were sleeping, others were cooking over a fire, while yet others were reciting psalms.

[Photo:] From right: Zelig Hausman, Berl Resnick, Herman Grossman (New York), Motya Yachnes, Feldman, and others. Summer of 1937.

F.

The three-day battle in Drohitchin

        Suddenly, everyone started looking up at the sky. A German airplane was surveying the area; it flew over the town and then disappeared. We all became frightened and ran for the trenches. German and Russian shells started whistling by over our heads. We heard a bang in one direction, and saw above us a red line moving through the air and sounding like a mournful whistle; it then went a little further and landed in pieces with a bang.

        Our trenches were dug very deep, covered on top with wood and earth. The women and children were the first to go into the trenches, which were extremely crowded and stuffy. It was extremely dangerous, and people were pushing and making noise, arguing for a better spot. Some brought along bundles or a chicken that they remembered to salvage, figuring they'd need something to live on if necessary.

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        The men started to gradually get used to the sounds of the explosions, and remained above ground. The cannons stopped at night, and only the machinegun fire continued; it looked like fried potatoes. This didn't frighten us, and remained above ground. From time to time we were alarmed by the appearance of a Cossack, but we calmed down when he disappeared.

        [Photo:] From left, A. Zlotnick, Leon Michaels (New York), Yossel Burstein, Yossel Lieberman, and others. August, 1932.

        The next morning, on the Sabbath, cannon fire resumed, and that day it rained heavily. The trenches were crowded and wet, so we moved over to a nearby house that had not been destroyed in the fire. We stayed there overnight. It was very crowded in there, and we sat on the floor the whole night, because we couldn't lie down and sleep. During the night we heard the machinegun fire, and on Sunday morning it rained heavily again, and it was impossible to go back into the trenches. We stayed in the house, while the cannon fire continued a whole night. In the evening we were especially frightened by the cannon shells that fell near the house where we were staying. We dashed out of the house and ran back to the trenches. My wife and I ran to the trenches as I carried our one-year old daughter. The trenches were already as packed as a chicken coop, and appeared like huge graves with people buried alive. I made an enormous effort to make some room for my wife and daughter in one of the trenches, while I remained hunched over at the entrance to the trench.

        It was dark outside, and the cannon fire didn't stop. Searchlights illuminated the entire area, and machine gun fire started again. Hand grenades were thrown over our trenches, thundering and blazing. We were certain it was only a matter of time before they hit our trenches and killed us. It was a horrible time as we wondered whether we would live or die.

        Then the noise gradually started to die down. The grenades flew over our trenches, and the searchlights illuminated the east, on the other side of town. Apparently, the Russians had completely withdrawn, and the town had fallen into the hands of the Germans, since the silence had grown in the distance, until it was totally quiet.

        Everyone else remained in the trenches, but my wife and I, with our sleeping baby made our way to a nearby little house that was still standing. In that house I found R. Yossel, the rabbinical judge of Drohitchin, and his wife. He hadn't been able to find a spot in the trenches; he lied down and went outside; he was sick, and the next day he left. In the morning, I went out onto the street, where I saw a small group of wet Russian soldiers running without weapons. Apparently they had run late and were now trapped. When the sun came out, and everyone came out of the trenches, the Germans were arriving.


G.

The Germans march into Drohitchin

        The storm moved further and further away, and like ocean waves that sweep away everything in their path, the groups of German cavalry and infantry carried away thousands of wagons that remained in Drohitchin. Then they started requisitioning other items: a horse, a cow or even just a good object. They took it and often gave out signed notes in exchange.

        On the road we saw a very tragic event: a Jew who was traveling with his wagon had small children sitting on it, while the adults walked along very weakly. It was a Jewish family that was returning home after the Germans arrived in Pinsk. A unit of German soldiers passed them by, and yelled out: "Jews, stop!" The Jew stopped, and without a word, the German harnessed the horse. The desperate Jew fell at the feet of the German while his whole family broke down and cried.

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