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by David Prital
Translated by Sara Mages
It was difficult to imagine that the Jewish hospital next to the Great Synagogue would serve a refuge for Jews during the Nazis' great aktion. During the war, the Germans turned part of the Jewish hospital into a hospital for Russian prisoners of war. The doctors, as well as the entire staff, were Jews. When it became a hospital for prisoners of war, the area around it was placed under the supervision, and direct command, of the German army. This fact took on an extraordinary meaning.
On the day when the liquidation of the Jewish ghetto in Lutsk began, the hospital was like a closed and protected island in the sea of calamity. By chance, my mother and I were able to sneak into the hospital area thanks to my friend, Sheindele Gelernter, a refugee from Congress Poland who worked there as a nurse. It is impossible to describe the feelings of the people who were inside and saw, with their own eyes, how dozens of trucks full of men, women and children, passed on their last journey in the section between the Great Synagogue and the bridge to Hnidawa. When the trucks returned from the killing ravine, they carried the clothes, luggage and packages of the executed. The Nazis gathered all these packages in a big pile near the synagogue. I still remember today the great shout that Dr, Rosenkrantz, the director of the Jewish Hospital, shouted when he saw his wife's suitcases. Apparently, he was given a promise that as the wife of a hospital doctor she would stay alive.
The liquidation continued and the terror that prevailed among the Jews in the hospital gradually increased. Who knows how much longer the Germans will let go of us? This thought crossed the minds of all the hospital refugees. Rumor followed rumor, and a nerve-racking nervousness took hold of everyone. A number of people collapsed after they swallowed poison or injected themselves with a lethal drug. The first to end her life in this way was Mrs. Dr. Bakshet. After she had done the deed, she passed through all those who were there, dressed in new clothes as if for a wedding, and parted from each one separately with a handshake and a hug. At the end of the farewell the body and soul became one.
This act encouraged many to follow in her footsteps. Dr. Rapaport, and Mania Meidan from the pharmacy, also attempted suicide. To this day I remember her face - the face of a happy person who was freed from torture. She lay on a bed and the poison that infiltrated her body ended her life. She was saved for a short time, but eventually died in great agony (the testimony of Dr. Pinus and his wife).
I also remember that according to his mother's vigorous request, Dr. Rosenstrum from Wolka injected his mother with an injection of grace in order to redeem her. Kronstein's business manager (Pesach) also did it. Several nurses from the hospital, who were in possession of morphine injections, also followed this path. There were also "good" Germans who, for a lot of money, were ready to provide cyanide. In conversations with the hospital staff they encouraged the act of suicide, stating that it was the "logical" solution in this situation. They even promised to erect a monument in their memory after the war… and who can articulate the genius of the German race!!
The sight was horrifying. In the great hall people lay on the beds and waited for the redeeming death. But not everyone was lucky enough to die a peaceful death. Nurses and doctors walked in the corridors with syringes in hand - ready for the decisive act - and one asked the other: what is happening outside? Is there still hope?
Suddenly a rumor spread: we have been saved!
The encouraging rumor came after a strange incident in those days. Ukrainians, the Nazis' servants and helpers in exterminating the Jews, approached the hospital to take the Jews out and lead them to extermination. And here, they encountered a refusal from the German soldiers, who did not let them enter the hospital area, which was clearly a military area. The German sergeant major stated that he would not allow anyone to enter without the approval of his military superiors. It was a typical German phenomenon. Apart from that, there were also personal motives that I would explain later.
A faint light of hope penetrated the Jews who were in the hospital. The thoughts were directed first and foremost to those who only a few minutes ago committed suicide. A frantic rescue work began on those who had not yet been killed by the poison. The children of the man, who worked for Kronstein, were brought back to life after they drank poison. For a long time after that they were tormented by severe torture. There was a case when one of the two Shultz sisters woke up (the younger, Leah) due to the rescue operation. The second, Bozia, died. The elderly parents, who were on the hospital premises, participated in the rescue operation of the two sisters. Beforehand, these parents witnessed their daughters' suicide. It is impossible to describe the sight of the rescue operation, which was only partially successful and created horrific family situations.
As I said above, the German sergeant major had personal reasons to guard the place. I know that the aforementioned had a Jewish friend who worked at the hospital, and she was the one who influenced him to delay the entry of the Ukrainians and the Nazis. Of course, relying on formal practices, but it can be assumed that his authority was limited. According to Shpivak (the surviving hospital administrator), the sergeant received encouragement from the commander of the prisoner of war camp (Jobst was his name), a man with human feelings and a sincere desire to help the Jews. He was the one who responded, back in the ghetto period, to the offer of the Jewish hospital workers to open a wing for soldiers prisoners of war, and made every effort to protect the Jewish staff for the entire time (according to Shpivak).
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There was also a case when a German soldier arrived by boat into the hospital grounds and took out a young woman, a refugee from Polish Congress (Not long ago I happened to meet this woman, Today she is married to a Jewish husband and has sons). According to her story, the German soldier kept her, and her sister, out of devotion, in the military church in the barracks in Lutsk until they traveled as Poles to work in Germany.
I also know of one case of escape. It was Shlomo Roiter, who climbed over the fence and was then a boy of about 12 years old. We accompanied him to the fence, with blessings from the bottom of our hearts for the success of the act. It is a wonder to me how this Jewish boy managed to get to Romania and from there to Israel. I met him in the training core in Kibbutz Ma'ale HaHamisha when I immigrated to Israel. Indeed, it was a reward for courage and daring.
A few days have passed, days of anxiety, hope and anticipation of what was to come. The murderers went on a rampage outside the hospital walls, and the total annihilation of the Jews of Lutsk continued. And we, inside, were full of sorrow and depression for the fate of our loved ones who were led to death by the executioners.
My mother, Gitel of the Eidelman family, and I were in this hell. I will not exaggerate if I say, with full responsibility, that during all this time my mother was calm out of a desire and decision to die.
“It is not worth living in such a world. Am I better than the thousands of Jews who fell yesterday and are falling today?” These were her words, and from here her calmness and composure stemmed from.
Those who discuss and research the passive behavior of the Jews in the face of the Nazi extermination machine, will find in this opinion, which was said by a Jewish mother in a city that is being destroyed, the deep truth which undoubtedly expresses the mindset of thousands of Jewish mothers and sons.
A few days later, the murderous hand was silent and a deathly silent prevailed in the ghetto. The Germans concentrated the survivors in the small ghetto, in the area that stretched between the first and second Hnidawa bridges.
According to Shpivak, sixty people remained in the hospital after the great liquidation. Three selections were held during the fall. The Nazis constantly pressured the commander of the POW camp, Jobst, to reduce the list of people he needed to maintain the services, but he had done everything to delay the extermination of his workers.
According to Spivak's testimony, in one of the selections a Jew from Lutsk, a butcher by profession attacked the police officer, Buch, as he passed through the hospital rooms to check if there were any Jews hiding there, and crushed the German's head with an ax.
The last ones left were: Dr. Rosencrantz, the nurse Sima, Shpivak and his wife, the sergeant's friend and her sister. Dr. Rosenkrantz tried to escape together with Sima, but the next day they were caught in their hiding place. The two sisters were also eliminated. Shpivak and his wife managed to escape in time.
by Asher Goldenberg, Israel
Translated by Sara Mages
The year 1941. The end of my last school year and the outbreak of the German-Russian war. Many people escape from Lutsk to the eastern border together with the Russians. After two to three days of heated arguments between my parents z”l, we come to a decision according to the rumors that reached us from the second part of Poland that was occupied by the Germans, about their treatment of the Jews and the men in particular, that my father and I must escape with the Russians. We have two pairs of bicycles at our disposal, but such a fateful decision is not carried out as agreed in advance. The parting is difficult, and so another day or two passes - and we missed the opportunity. The Germans are already east of Lutsk. The escape route is closed. The Germans occupy the eastern part of Poland, and shortly after their entrance to Lutsk the city's Jews are imprisoned in a ghetto. In such a concentration the Germans have the power to act. They do as they please in the ghetto knowing clearly that the fate of the population, to life and death, is in their hands. Signs of this control are immediately apparent. At their commanded a “Judenrat” was created, and its role is to serve as a supplier of free Jewish labor, a device to extort money, and when time comes - also to deliver victims to satisfy the despicable instincts of the “Aryan race.”
From time to time the men of the SS appear, grab Jews indiscriminately - mostly men - and sending them to places from which they never return. A short time later, appears an SS officer at the rank of Oberscharführer[1] named Firetag. He also grabs men - but especially chooses the young age, and establishes the concentration camp in Lutsk in the former Polish Catholic seminary. Many families remain without fathers and brothers already in the first month of the occupation. Panic and fear reign throughout the ghetto.
I was among the first detainees in the concentration camp.
I grew up in a home that was imbued with a deep Zionist spirit and all members of the household, the five children and the parents, spoke Hebrew. My father z”l was an active Zionist, and I remember that a few years before the outbreak of the war he started to liquidate his business in Poland in order to immigrate to Israel. However, for reasons unknown to me, our immigration was cancelled.
Like our family - there were many families in Lutsk.
And the young Jews - in a different situation they would certainly have been able to defend themselves and their honor, as often happened in pre-war Poland, but there was no such possibility during the days of the Germans, and for various reasons. First of all - the frequent acts of repression that befell the Jewish ghetto: depletion of the number of men by taking them out and sending them to unknown locations, and especially the hostile population around the ghetto. Under these conditions there was no possibility to talk about any organization. And besides that, the uncertainty about the Germans' intention towards the Jews, and in particular it was impossible to imagine a total elimination, something that has never happened. All these were a significant factor of what happened over time.
I was seventeen years old when I was taken to the camp. Together with me were my two friends from school - Avraham Hazan and Yasha Gelmitz. We lived together in the camp - worked together and acted as one. The work was outside the camp. There was no industry in Lutsk and, to the extent that there was, like the candles factory, only professional laborers worked there. We, the workers of various outside jobs, occasional had the opportunity to infiltrate the ghetto for several hours and bring in limited amounts of food that it was possible to obtain more easily outside the ghetto. And in this way we also maintained the connection between the ghetto and the camp.
In the camp, life was conducted in constant fear starting in the early hours of the morning when the general roll call, which lasted for two hours in any weather, was held before leaving to work. The Oberscharführer and his assistants came out for half an hour inspection - a relatively short time, but enough to threaten and frighten by brutal indiscriminate beatings. I also remember two incidents where people were taken out of the roll call, ordered to dig pits near the camp fence, and then they were shot and thrown into the pits in front of the whole camp. Also during the day, in the camp, there was no lack of incidents and acts of repression. In this manner life continued in the camp until the spring of 1942. At the same time, the management of the camp was transferred to the hands of an SD[2] man, Oberleutnant[3], and Firetag and his helpers left. A certain relief was felt in the life of the camp, but this period didn't last long and the camp was returned to the hands of the SS, to an officer in the rank of Oberscharführer. The Oberleutnant with a group of about two hundred men, among them Gelmitz, Hazan and I, moved to a Ukrainian village, Lavriv, a distance of about 20 km from Lutsk. In this place we found a camp surrounded by a barbed wire fence and barracks for our group. The guarding of us in Lavriv was more lax and this is due to the Germans' reliance on the pure Ukrainian population and their hostile attitude towards us. Despite this, there were isolated cases of escape back to the ghetto.
One day, at dusk, I stood together with Hazan in front of the Oberleutnant who instructed us to explain how to do a certain job the next day. As we stood there, we noticed two figures running on the other side of the camp, at a distance of about fifteen meters from us. The Oberleutnant also noticed this. He took out his pistol and aimed it towards the escapees. Being close to him, I moved his hand strongly when he pulled the trigger, and the shot was fired aimlessly. I had done it out of a strong internal urge that I could not overcome, and only after the act I faced the danger involved. It is clear that all the attention of the German was directed to me. Apparently, without grasping at the first moment what happened and how I dared, he stood amazed for a few seconds. I thought he didn't kill me on the spot because he was stunned at first, and then he probably decided to make a big show out of my execution. He ordered me to enter the hut and wait for him. I entered the barrack, but didn't wait for him and immediately left. I slipped away from the camp area and moved several kilometers away from it. That night I slept in the field and at dawn I continued to Lutsk and returned to the ghetto. For a long time they were looking for me also in the ghetto area.
The situation was very bad. Rumors circulated that the Germans were going to liquidate the ghetto (and indeed, these rumors were verified shortly after),
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and there are chances that they would not touch the concentration camp because the people there are mostly young and working. It is clear, that for me the camp was like a lion's mouth. But, after what happened in Lavriv, I was not as safe in the ghetto like other residents.
At the same time, the Germans began to issue certificates attesting that their bearers are productive people and should not be harmed. Such a certificate cost large amount of money. My father obtained such a certificate for me, and my cousin's name was also registered on it as my so-called wife. This certificate should have given her the same degree of safety that it was intended to give me.
In the summer, on August 1942, the liquidation of the ghetto began. The place was surrounded by Germans and Ukrainians, and movement to and from it was completely stopped. Panic, fear and despair, prevailed inside. Families, who prepared hiding places for themselves in advance, began to move there. My parents were among those who prepared a hiding place in a spacious and well concealed attic. They moved together with my aunt and her daughter, and another family, Friedlander, the mother and the daughter (the father of the family and the son were among the first to be caught and sent to an unknown location). In the hiding place was a stock of food prepared in advance and enough for several months. The quality of the food was not important. Water was prepared for a short time only. Since the hideout was close to the Styr River, there was hope of getting water every now and then. I didn't want to hear about the hiding place and my parents surrendered in the hope that the certificate in my hand would protect me. With the first liquidation operations, the Germans began to sort the population, and the holders of the certificates proving that their owners are “productive,” were transferred under guard outside the ghetto. Even in this situation the Jews still didn't believe that the annihilation would be total, but they thought that when the rage passed, as it happened in previous times and in different periods, it would be possible to get out of the hiding places, therefore it is necessary to wait and gain time.
I was among those who were taken out of the ghetto and with me, Cesia Kamenitzka, in place of my cousin who was hiding together with my parents. We were arranged in a wide lot near “Zamek Lubart”[Lubart's Castle]. Among us were Avraham Hazan and Yasha Gelmitz, who fled to the ghetto shortly after my escape from Lavriv. They also had passage certificates.
In total we were a few hundred people. That night we slept under the open sky, and in the morning a trucks arrived and we were told that we had to go to work, leave the women and we would return in the evening. Many didn't trust the Germans' words and preferred to take their wives dressed as men. However, only a few of us had additional clothes for the women, and so the vast majority of the women remained in the temporary camp and the men were put on the trucks that brought them to the old concentration camp at the seminary.
Later, we learned that the fate of the women was the same as those who remained in the ghetto.
We sat in the camp for a week under severe confinement and at the same time the liquidation operation was going on in the ghetto. After this period they took us in groups to the ghetto to collect the loot - the Jewish property. We moved from house to house, took out everything (including furniture), and loaded the items on trucks that transferred them to a concentration place. There, they were sorted and sent to unknown locations. It is difficult to describe our feelings and our mood in this type of work. After all, each one of us had close relatives in these places. The joy was great when one of our groups found a hiding place with live people, but the concern for them and the fear for their lives were even greater. Everyone tried to provide help in any required form. I worked together with Hazan, Gelmitz and Emil Albirt who joined us, and with him I continued to work even after the liquidation of the camp. Of course, I tried to come to my parents' hideout and was happy to see them, to comfort them and help them, and from that day on, until the end of the work in the ghetto, I visited my parents and brought them foods. My father took care of the water himself. He went out at night and brought water from the river.
The work in the ghetto was conducted under heavy German guard and at an accelerated pace. At the end of the day's work we underwent a strict inspection for fear that we hid gold and other valuables on our bodies, and then we marched in groups back to the camp. After a short period of hard labor, when most of the property was taken out, the Germans began to lighten the inspection and then an opening was opened for us to take out the gold and valuables that we found in the ghetto and hid them in places known to us. We also brought young people out of hiding who wanted to join us and move to the camp, which was still considered a safe place. We had no difficulties in getting the men out: we simply put them inside our ranks and they marched together with us. But a difficult problem was getting the young women out. We had to dress them in men's clothes and the danger was great both for them and for the group they were in. If the Germans had caught a young woman in a certain group, there is no doubt that they would have eliminated the whole group on the spot. Our group, like all other groups, often took a risk in such cases and each time one of the young women expressed her desire to join us, we complied. In the attic, together with my parents, were also my three sisters, the oldest, Shoshana, was married to Webek Bardek. My fourth sister, Chaya, worked before the war in the main leadership of “Gordonia” in Warsaw. At the end of 1939, during the war, she arrived in Lutsk together with her husband Yitzchak Silberberg. A short time later they left Poland and managed to arrive in Israel.
My sister Shoshana and her husband were among those who left the hiding place and came with us to the camp. Webek stayed with us in the camp while I left my sister with a Christian family not far from the camp, and from there I moved her a few days later to other Christian acquaintances who agreed to hide her together her husband.
As for Webek, it was decided that he would be with me in the camp until it will be possible to move him, and when the time came he would join his wife. And so life went on for another period. Every day I went to work in the ghetto, I visited my parents, comforted them even though I didn't believe in the possibility of holding on, neither in hiding nor in the camp, but there was no other choice.
After the liquidation of the ghetto there was no doubt what the Germans were capable of, but, nevertheless, there were people who believed the Germans' announcement that they do not intend to harm the Jews any more, and therefore all those in hiding could come out of hiding places. There were those who clung to these announcements like a drowning man grasping at straw, came out and surrendered to the Germans. These Jews were concentrated in part of the former ghetto and in this way the second ghetto was created. When the Germans lost hope of collecting more Jews they decided to liquidate the second ghetto as well. With its elimination, we were once again tasked with the removal and cleaning work, and then we were locked up in the camp. This didn't bode well, and indeed, one morning a selection began inside the camp, I was
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together with Gelmitz Albirt, Prinzantal and my brother-in-law Webek, and our fate was decided for the worst. I was in a group condemned to extermination. Gelmitz Albirt and I had a large fortune in gold. Indeed, it was impossible to buy the life of a Jew from the Germans with gold, but it was possible to expect considerable help from the civilian population and, obviously, it was a valuable factor for a Jew who tried despite everything to stay alive. Those, who were selected and sentenced to death, were transported in trucks outside the camp to a building with two wings. All of them, about six hundred people, were concentrated in one wing. The entire building was surrounded by Ukrainian and German guards. From there they were taken out in groups and transported to the slaughter about an hour's drive away. In the time period between taking out a group, driving it to the slaughter and driving back to load another group, we were visited by Germans and Ukrainians who demanded to hand over the gold to them, and their demands were accompanied with severe blows.
We, Gelmitz Albirt and I, managed to collect a sum of money and luckily no one harassed us. We decided among us that if we would not find a way to escape from here, we will make a last attempt to escape from the truck that will transfer us. We knew very well that our chances were slim and we saw no need for all the gold we had. Therefore, we decided to distribute the gold among all those present so that if someone managed to escape, it would be useful for him. And that's what we had done. We distributed gold to everyone who asked. As our turn drew near to be taken away in a truck, we started looking for an opening that we could use to escape, and so we arrived to a corridor in which stood buckets for defecating. The buckets stood next to a door locked with a padlock, and this door connected the two wings. It was possible to assume that the guarding in the other wing was not as strong as on our side since that wing was empty of people.
We decided to try to open the door lock and escape through it. The risk was great, but not greater than what awaited for us. We started the work. We worked in shifts with great care. We used our hands and the belt buckles as tools. Finally we were able to remove the hinge on which the lock was hanging. We tried to open the door - and it opened. I was the first to move to the second wing. It was after midnight, and as much as I noticed I came to the conclusion that it was worth trying. I came back and informed my friends about it and it was decided that we would go out in small groups during the breaks, and one would cover the escape of the second group. We informed the others about this and we determined the order of the. Gelmitz Albirt and I were the first. We came out and succeeded. We arrived to the ruins of a house where we spent the rest of the night. Among those who came out after us were Webek and Prinzantal. Before dawn we left the ruin. We left the city to consult and decide on our next steps. We got in touch with some Polish guys who agreed, of course for a payment, to provide us with clothes, razors and a few food items. These things were provided and we paid them in gold. When the Poles saw the gold, decided to get it out of us with various tricks and even threats, and when they didn't succeed, they finally offered to supply us with two pistols in return. We wanted to get rid of them and gave them some coins as a deposit for the pistols. They took the money and left, and we walked in the opposite direction. We didn't walk a long way when heard the sound of horses behind us and saw German riders following us. We guessed that they were coming after receiving information from the Poles about our presence in the place. To the Germans' questions, we admitted that we were Jews and that we were returning to the camp after working in a certain place. It was late in the afternoon. The story, together with the indication of the work place, was accepted by the Germans. They escorted us until they found a Ukrainian policeman, handed us over to him with the order to take us back to the camp. While walking with the Ukrainian policeman it was possible to talk between us and we came to the conclusion that in the meantime it is better to return to the camp, especially when we have an escort, something that will make it easier for us to get inside. And in this manner we returned to the camp. There, we were told that the last group has been eliminated.
After the selection it was clear beyond doubt that the day is not far and the last group of the Jews in the camp would be eliminated in the near future.
We began to work vigorously in obtaining hiding places with Christians who can be trusted as much as possible. In the meantime, the camp was moved to a new location - to the former Jewish gymnasium - about five hundred people remained there. I brought my sister and her husband back to this place because they told me that the place where they are hiding with the Polish family - is not suitable.
Before the camp was moved to the buildings of the Jewish gymnasium, Gelmitz and Hazan decided to move to Lwow and try to live there as Christians with the certificates they had in their possession (Albirt and I also had the same certificates). They left and I haven't heard from them since. Albirt didn't want to join them because his younger sister, sixteen-year-old Sonia, remained with him, and he had to take care of her. I also couldn't join because I had to take care of my parents who were still in their hiding place.
From the camp, in its new location, I left three to four times a week together with Albirt. I came to my parents' hiding place in the ghetto and brought them food and comforting words. Leaving the camp after the liquidation of the ghetto was an operation in itself. It is clear that we left in a twisted and concealed path. Besides us there were only a few who dared to go out from time to time.
Albirt accompanied me very time I went to visit my parents. He was a devoted friend, loyal and fearless. We were like two brothers. He was four to five years older than me. We never fought and did everything out of full cooperation and mutual agreement.
One day, in the second half of October 1942, when I came to my parents, I didn't find them anymore. I found out that they were caught and held in one of the stores in Berka Joselewicza Street. I went there and saw them locked inside the store. I have neither the strength nor the desire to bring up here what I had experienced at that time. I promised them that I would do everything to save them. I am not convinced that they believed in this possibility, but apparently they showed signs of recovery. I came there every day, negotiated with the Ukrainian guards and with one German. I promised them treasures of gold and they agreed to release them when the opportunity arose, but the opportunity never came. With that, I started working with Albirt, and at his suggestion, to extract stones from the back wall of the shop where my parents were imprisoned, in order to open an exit. The back wall bordered another empty store that was not guarded. We carved into the wall with small pieces of iron and the work almost made no progress. Today, it seems to me that it was a really stupid act, because the thickness of the wall, which was built of stones, reached approximately forty centimeters. I'm not sure if we would have succeeded with the tools we had (if it I possible to call them tools) to do the job under these conditions when we had to be careful not to make noise and draw attention to us since there were armed guards on the other side. But at that time I
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worked together with Albirt in the hope that we would succeed. On 24 October I saw my parents for the last time. The next day, when we came to the ghetto, there was an unusual atmosphere there and many Germans were hanging around there. There was no possibility at all to approach the place where my parents were imprisoned. The next day we left again, and then we found out that the Germans captured more Jews and, on 25 October 1942, they were all taken out, a group of about twenty people - it was possible to guess where. I went back to camp and tried to hold on so that my sister wouldn't recognize that something had happened. She didn't even know that her parents had been caught. I tried to hold on so that my sister wouldn't recognize that something had happened didn't tell her about it at the time because I didn't have the courage to so. I tried to deceive her, but she noticed the change in me and didn't believe my words that our parents are still alive.
Life in the camp was very difficult - and getting out of it became more difficult because there were no Jews in the city. The camp, from which we hardly left for work, was the last place of concentration. Almost every day I went out together with Albirt to look for a place for my sister and her husband and for Emil's sister. After a short time we found a Polish man who agreed to accept four Jews. It seemed to us that it was possible to trust the man as well as the place, so I moved my sister, my brother-in-law and Gitelman, who was an electrician, with his son, to this place. The arrangement for Albirt's sister was easier since she was blonde with a pure “Aryan” look. We found a place for her as a housekeeper with a gentile who, of course, knew about her origin and promised to take her for a good payment. It should be noted that a gentile who took in a Jew was in no less danger than the Jew himself, because if the Germans found a Jew hiding in a Christian house, they executed all of them. Therefore, it is no wonder that we only found a few Christians who agreed to hide Jews. And even fewer who had done it not for money but out of human feelings. On the other hand, there were also those who accepted the Jews with the clear aim of extorting their money and then, by various tricks, to hand them over to the Germans. Besides the difficulty of finding a Christian who would be willing to give shelter to a Jew, we also had to carefully check that he could be trusted, and if he might not betray in the end. It was therefore necessary to be very careful and examine the man before making such a decision which, in most cases was also fateful because, when a Jew entered the hideout, he was cut off from the outside world and given into the hands of the holder - for worse or for better, without any ability to take care of himself.
After we took care of our sisters, we began to look for a place for ourselves. Through Albirt I knew a family by the name of Stespaniuk. The head of the family worked for Albirt's father. Their house was not far from the camp. It was a family of four, the parents and two daughters, one was married to a baker and the other was a young woman named Luba.
The baker worked for the Germans and provided us with information as well as various food items. I established a friendship with Luba, visited her often and even slept at their house from time to time. The whole family treated us well and with respect. In their eyes, we were exceptional Jews because of our departure from the camp and the freedom with which we walked in the city streets. More than once we heard these words, in addition to words of admiration, from them and from our other acquaintances. It seems that by virtue of this admiration we were privileged to receive their help in the form that we received it. One day, when we raised the question, where will stay after the liquidation of the camp, which seems to be very close - the Stespaniuk family agreed to take us to them.
In the second half of December 1942, the baker told us that he had heard from the Germans that towards the new year they were going to liquidate the concentration camp and declare Lutsk judenrein [cleansed of Jews]. On the 24 of the same month, in the evening hours, I left the camp with Albirt. On our way we met German and Ukrainian companies approaching the camp and surrounding it. The goal was clear to us. We left a minute before the zero hour. We came to the Stespaniuk family and told what we had seen. The elders showed signs of panic and fear at the very fact that we were in their house at such a time, in view of what was about to happen in the camp not far from their house. When we saw the situation that had arisen, we wanted to leave the house, but then Luba intervened and with moral words preached her parents about their behavior after what has been decided before, she convinced them and they asked us to stay with them. We stayed. The next day, the homeowners brought us information of what had happened. They told about the active resistance of the camp's people, about wounded Germans and Ukrainians, and that the Jews are taken out of there only after their strength ran out. Ziegelbaum and his wife were among the survivors. As he told me later in one of the meetings, he was able to hide in one of the rooms and then managed to get out from there (today he is in Israel). We were at the Stespaniuk family for only a few days. From there we moved to another house where there were two brothers-in-law, Chaim and Moshe (I don't remember their surnames). We already knew about them before. We were not in this place for a long time, for various reasons, and in the search for a suitable place, we arrived to Witold Fomienko. I have heard a lot about Fomienko from Albirt, and I also knew that the Friedboim family was with him. I also knew that he took to him twelve year-old Jewish girl, an orphan, out of mercy.
Albirt told me about Fomienko's sympathy for the Jews and the help he gave to the Jews in the ghetto and after its liquidation.
It was in February 1943 when we came to Fomienko for the first time. He received us well without being surprised or excited as we were used to seeing with other acquaintances. We told him about our situation and asked him to help us find a suitable place. He gave us several addresses.
At that time, our financial situation was very bad. We had to pay a lot of money to our homeowner in addition to the two who kept my sister and Albirt's sister. Our money was running out quickly and it was necessary to get money for the continuation of our stay at the hideout. We had one and only way to get money: to demand the property that was entrusted to Christians by Jews at the time of the ghetto, and we knew that the property owners are no longer alive. We only knew about individual cases and to whom and what property was handed over. We decided to contact those people and demand that they return the property and in this way finance our expenses. For this purpose we had to obtain a pistol knowing clearly that in some places we will not be able to receive the property without threats and pressure. With the intention of discouraging those who would want to harm us, we decided to spread a rumor among our acquaintances that we joined a partisan company operating in the area, and that we represent them and act on their behalf. This was conceivable since the partisans really operated in the area. Fomienko was a great help to us in all these matters. He gave us the addresses
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of people who kept Jewish property and also told us whose property it was and its nature. He guided us in everything, took it upon himself to spread the rumor that we were partisans, encouraged us and gave us hope. Since then, every time we came to him, and we came often, we received all the help we needed from him - we demanded a lot - and he responded. He had a big part in what Albirt and I had done over time. Between the return of Jewish property and the establishment of the contact between the few Jews who were hiding in verious places. Fomienko spoke fluent Yiddish and the relationship between us at that time was not the relationship of a Jew with a gentile, but as equals. On the contrary, we were the ones who demanded from him, we pressed him and he accepted it willingly and had done his best to satisfy our demand. We felt really at home at his place. We were never forced to pretended and encourage him as we had done with all our other acquaintances, so that they persist and last. With Fomienko we found an outlet for ourselves, and he was the one who encouraged us and instilled hope in us. From him we drew the strength to continue. Today it is difficult to say what things would have been like if it hadn't been for Fomienko. After the first visit to him, we went to an address he gave us in the area of the former ghetto to a widowed woman, and she took us. A short time later, we noticed that there was a brothel in the next house and Germans visit there. This matter didn't stop us from going out to the city every day to meet with our acquaintances, to pass news to our sisters and maintain a contact with Shaye Kliger (today he is in America). He was hiding together with friends on Yaglinsky Street, with Sternberg and others. Meanwhile our money was running out even though our needs were not many. The payment for the accommodation was high although we saw the high amount as an obvious matter considering the life of tension and danger in which the host is subjected to.
As I have already mentioned, we had no choice but to try to get back the Jewish property that had been entrusted to the Gentiles, and for that we needed a pistol. How to get it? - We could not find a solution to the problem, but here luck came to our aid. The women in the house next to us noticed us and after a combination of different phenomena came to the conclusion that we were Jews. One day, when we returned “home,” one of them was waiting for us and invited us. We entered, the three of them gathered, told us how they came to this conclusion and asked us for confirmation, assuring us that they treat us sympathy and will try to help in any way they can.
There was no point in denying that - we admitted and together with that we raised the problem of the pistol, and relying on their promise we asked them to get us one, since it will be easy for them because the Germans who visit them usually come drunk, or get drunk there. They promised us, and after a few days later gave us a Browning pistol with a magazine and six bullets. They didn't want to receive any payment. For us, this was a huge achievement - encouragement and a source of confidence in ourselves. Upon receiving the pistol, we decided to immediately begin the process of receiving the property and, at the same time, moved to another place because, despite everything, it was not good to live in an environment where many people know about our existence. It was in March 1943. That month I was hit hard. My sister, and the others who were with her, were captured by the Germans. I no longer had a reason to live. I was discouraged. Emil encouraged me and brought me back to life and to reality.
Something was also wrong with Emil's sister and we received a call from her to come. She told that the homeowner is harassing her and wants to take advantage of her. We immediately took her with us. Since we also wanted to move from our place of residence, we turned to Fomienko and he told us to go in the meantime to the place where Zigelbaum is with a group of seven to eight people, and then he will inform us of a new address. We went there, and for the first time since the liquidation of the camp we met a large group of Jews. We slept there for two nights. On the morning of the third day, the homeowner entered in a panic and announced that the Germans are coming. A panic run began. I was the first to go outside and run into a Ukrainian. I hit him with all my strength. He fell and never got up again. The three of us - Emil, his sister and I - moved quickly away from the place. We managed to see everyone leaving and escaping in different directions. Later, we learned that apart from us, only Zigelbaum with Manya, his wife, managed to escape. The rest were captured.
After we escaped we went directly to Kozák, a Czech Christian that Emil knew. This Kozák lived in the city suburbs, was an educated man and the head of the family. His three brothers lived in the village of Lipine, a distance of seven kilometers from Lutsk. The entire village was inhabited by Czechs. Albirt's cousin and his wife were staying with the Kozák family. We came to him, told him about the last incident and asked him to talk to one of his brothers in the village to accept us. He, on his part, said that rumors had reached him about us that we are, so to speak, partisans and walk around the city, and that he himself longed to see us with his own eyes to prove that it is true. He was happy t we came to him. On that day he left for Lipine to talk to one of the brothers. In the meantime, we left the city and arranged a place for Sonia, Albirt's sister, with acquaintances on Pilsudskiego Street, a mixed couple - she was Russian and he Polish. We had no difficulties in this matter, because we visited this family several times and they suggested that we contact them when needed and they will be willing to accept Sonia. We returned to Kozák and waited until he returned and informed us that his eldest brother is willing to receive us. We slept that night at his place and the next day we left for Lipine, The eldest Kozák was an educated man, a high school graduate, the owner of seven hectares of land, pigs and a cowshed with several cows. It was a family of five: the parents, two daughters, one was twenty one and the other sixteen, and a six-year-old son. Kozák loved his younger son unconditionally and only because of him he avoided taking the risk of giving shelter to Jews, but after his brother's recommendations and the story of our experiences, he agreed to accept us. At first we worked together with him in the field and at home, and established excellent relations with the whole family. We felt good in this place and the attitude toward us was wonderful. And since then, a new era began for us, Albirt and I. We started to leave for the city to receive Jewish property. The first we went to was Dr. Yasinski, an ophthalmologist who lived on Karolobei-Yadbigi Street. I knew that property of my uncle, Koziol, was entrusted to with him. I knew Dr. Yasinski before the war and even received his treatment. At the time we urgently needed money because we received an urgent call from Shaye Kliger to come to them, and when we came we were faced with a serious problem. As I already mentioned, Kliger was with a friend and a young woman, and now it turned out that the young woman was pregnant.
Obviously, there was no possibility of leaving her in that situation, and in order to act we first of all needed money, with the help of which we could try to overcome the problem. Kliger and the rest had no money.
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So, when we came to Dr. Yasinsky and introduced ourselves - he also knew me. When we told him the purpose of our visit, it was possible to see that the man was losing his temper and was trembling with fear. He didn't deny that various items belonging to the Koziol family were with him and even expressed his willingness to return them. We asked him to take them out and he did what we ordered him to do like an automat. We packed everything we could carry with us. We asked to prepare the rest because we will keep coming until we get everything. Meanwhile the doctor calmed down and asked us to sit down. He explained his fear saying that he was sure that there was not a single Jew left alive in the city of Lutsk, and when he saw us we looked like people not from this world, and he doesn't understand how we dare to walk around the city and enter gentiles' homes to receive Jewish property. He promised to return everything and to give his own if there was a need for it, but he is asking for one thing - not come to his house and do not endanger him. He is ready to bring us the remaining belongings wherever we tell him, provided that we will not come to him, because Germans visit him for treatment. We trusted his words and agreed on a meeting place, where he would hand over the items to us. And indeed, after a few days we received from him all the property that was worth a lot. After that, we started to search for a doctor. We found a young doctor named Leszczynski who agreed to perform the abortion, and as an advance we gave him a large amount of money. After two days we arrived at the place where Kliger was with the young woman, we took her in a carriage to the doctor and later brought her back home, and the matter was successful.
Obviously, we also compensated the Kozák family from the belongings we received, and saw the blessed effect of this action. Generally, after every departure to city (we left three to four times a week), we brought gifts to the Kozák family - to each separately and all together. They appreciated us for our bravery and our generosity, and more than once asked us not to go out lest we be caught. They really took care of us and when we return “home” we clearly saw their joy.
Since our first activity at Dr. Yasinsky we continued in other places known to us, and in the places that Fomienko told us about. We were not lucky like in the first time, and there were places where we had to use a pistol to intimidate, take the objects with violence and then flee for our lives. However, in places that showed any desire to return the objects, even if not all of them, we were satisfied with that, and we didn't use pressure or intimidation.
Only once we used the pistol. It was one day, in the afternoon, when we returned with packages and we were on our way to Lipine. A Ukrainian policeman stopped us next to the Jewish cemetery for an inspection. We had no choice. The area was empty of people. Albirt shot the Ukrainian. This didn't arouse any attention and we quickly left the place and returned home safely.
We were not the only ones who benefited from the property we returned, but other people that we supported all the time, and they are the two brothers-in-law Chaim and Moshe who were with us in the first period after the liquidation of the camp, Sternberg (was captured by the Germans in the summer of 1943), Kliger and his group. Sometime later, we moved Kliger to the second brother of the Kozák family in Lipine. And so the days and months passed until Albirt decided to visit Dr. Lipinski in order to also receive from him the large Jewish property entrusted to him.
Dr. Lipinski declared himself a Volksdeutsche[4] and worked as a doctor, mostly for the Germans. I asked Albirt to give him up because it was a very dangerous address and we didn't know the nature of the man at that time. Albirt insisted on going and we went. This visit is etched in my memory. We arrived at about 11:30. We entered the waiting room where several Germans were sitting. We sat and waited. When the last German left the two of us entered the doctor's room together. Lipinski knew Albirt and was astounded by our arrival. He controlled himself, changed his face and started talking to us in a firm tone. He asked for the purpose of our coming to him, and in short we answered him and demanded that he immediately give us the cash, the jewelry and the other things deposited with him. Emil took out the pistol, showed him and explained to him that if he tried to do something, his fate would not be different from ours. Lipinski claimed, of course, that he was ready to return everything and there was no need for threats. However, the things are not at his house, he hid them in a certain place and he is ready to prepare them for the date we will set for him. Obviously, we didn't believe a single word he said, but we had no choice but to agree with him and set a new date for our visit, and he promised that everything would be ready for us. After that we saw the need to appease him and justify our threats. We explained to him that we don't know what his attitude is to the Jews and to us in particular, but we trust him in light of what he said. We had done this to create ourselves a safe way of retreat for since the place was central, with a dense population and the visitors to his house were mostly armed Germans.
In spite of it, we decided to go out of the window for fear that there were still Germans in the waiting room that Lipinski might hint them. We did so and quickly left the place.
Sometime later, as the date we arranged with Lipinski approached, Albirt began to prepare for the visit. I objected and said that I wouldn't go. A quarrel broke out between us - for the first time in our entire time together. The matter of Lipinski's visit turned into a bone of contention for us, which, at the end of the matter, brought us to a complete separation.
Albirt, together with his sister, who in the meantime was brought to us, decided to move to the city. I remained with Kozák. The separation was difficult for me and the loneliness weighed on me. Albirt took the pistol with my consent because he still wanted to go to Lipinski.
After Albirt left I decided to bring Kliger to me. He had to leave his place since the homeowner was stricken with fear and just couldn't hold on because of the anxiety. Kliger was the complete opposite of Albirt, and as far as courage was concerned, he was a coward and trembled at every rustle of a fallen leaf. His appearance was typical Jewish and was also extremely pale as a result of staying indoors for a long time. In such a situation it is clear that even if he was willing to join me I could not accept him, especially since he refused to do so. And he wasn't the only one. Not unusual at all. On the contrary, we, Emil and I, were exceptional. Apart from us, no Jew dared to be seen outside. And so I had to go alone to the city, and only went to “safe” places where I hoped to receive the property without any objection. I tried as much as possible to limit my going out, because I didn't have the same level of confidence I had when I went together with Albirt.
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At the end of 1943, Albirt was captured at Dr. Lipinski. He was imprisoned and hanged himself in jail. May his memory be blessed. He was one of the few who had the power to raise the honor of the Jews among the gentiles.
Shortly after him his sister was also caught in the city streets.
After that I lost all desire to continue going out to city to get money and I arranged with Kozák, according to his suggestion, to transfer my father's house to his name as a final payment for the accommodation. I registered the house under his name as required with a notary and,, from then and until February 1944, until the Russians came to Lutsk, I hardly came to the city. After we were liberated by the Russians there was not enough time to take revenge, as I had planned, because the front was very close to the city and there was a fear that the Germans might conquer it again. I fled together with the two Penis brothers, Prinzental, Friedboim and others to Rivne.
In Rivne I enlisted in the Red Army.
Translator's footnotes:
by S. Shiloh
Translated by Sara Mages
December 9, 1942.The ground was covered with snow. About four hundred Jews gathered in the rooms of the camp's houses and brought up memories from the home that was, and all the dear figures who were lost and no longer exist. The people didn't talk about the figures of the dead, the parents, brothers and sisters, children and grandchildren stood alive before their eyes. Here, one burst into tears and drew all the rest after him. It was a regular picture - a handful of men, healthy and robust, sitting and crying loudly. One magic word had the power to stop the grief: revenge! This word was like a miracle cure for the aching hearts. Plans, upon plans, were made.
My brother, Miki Schulman, who came to the camp after failing to form a partisan group in the forests, aroused the Jews with fictitious stories so that they would go out to the forest. At the head of the group, which was organized under my brother's influence, was Moshe the tinsmith. Moshe moved from room to room, encouraged the people and directed the feelings of revenge into a realistic channel. His plan was simple: to obtain weapons and escape to the forests. Not to save lives but to fight the enemy.
In those circumstances it was the only way, but the most difficult. Every Jew who left the camp without a permit risked his life. We only had one defective gun. I, the boy whose face was as light as the face of a gentile boy, was sent to the address of friends to obtain weapons. All my efforts failed. No Gentile wanted to help us,
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even for a payment of a large sum of money. Our hands were empty, but our heart was encouraged by the idea of escape. And so we prepared to leave. Another day, or two, we will escape from here. Suddenly, at eight o'clock in the evening of December 9, a shout passed through the camp: “We are surrounded.” A terrible running around began. People tried to break the policemen chain - but in vain. Shots pierced the air and the Germans' shouts terrorized everyone. “We are finished,” “We are late” - these words echoed throughout the camp.
The camp was centralized in three buildings. One big building that once served as a Jewish high school, and two other two-story buildings. On that fateful evening I was in the kitchen and warehouse building, and my brother remained in the central building. I didn't see him again. I didn't know what his part was in the organization of the uprising. Over the years, after the liberation, two, who were near him and survived, told me that he was sure of his success in breaking through the police chain and escaping.
About fifty Jews lived in the house where I hid - cooks, storekeepers, office workers and department managers. The living spirit of this group was the goalkeeper of the soccer team, “The Hashmonaim”[1], which existed back in the days of Poland. From the moment the entrances to the camp were blocked, and the hope of escape vanished, he was the preacher for the uprising in this house. Iron and wooden beds were piled in the corners of the rooms. The Germans sensed the preparations for the uprising and acted cautiously. Almost all of them wore a steel helmet. On the main street, across from the camp, machine guns were placed on armored vehicles. All the Jews from the central building were moved to the second building where the carpentry, the shoemaker and the leather workshop, were located. Everything that happened in the place mentioned above - during the night and day, until the last uprising that I saw with my own eyes. - I am telling from what I have been told by witnesses who were there and remained alive.
After the Germans crowded most of the Jews into one building and depression took over the people, Moshe the tinsmith stood up and in his hoarse voice declared: “Let my soul die with the Philistines[2]!” “We will not go like sheep to the slaughter. Jews! Take axes, knives, whatever available - and we will all die with honor! Anyone who will try to hide and will not lend a hand to the uprising - will bear the responsibility!” Most of the Jews, led by the organized group, followed him. The courage, which was hidden in the secrets of the soul, burst forth for all to see. The joy of despair spread among everyone. The food, they had stored for a time of need, was put on the tables and the last meal was held. Vodka bottles were passed from mouth to mouth, the intoxication of the impending battle ignited the hearts, and the Jews, who just a little while ago bowed their heads, stood proud and ready for the terrible battle. Only in one corner stood Jews wrapped in tallitot reciting the viduy[3]. One o'clock after midnight was set as the zero hour. The connection between this house, and the house where I was, was very weak. The Germans did not let us to open the windows to talk, but one thing was clear to both houses: resistance by force. One o'clock in the morning has arrived. The lights were turned off, and everyone stood ready to leap through the windows. The Germans did not hesitate and opened fire. Broken glass, bundles of plaster and bricks, flew around. A commotion arose. The cries and the screams of the women and the elderly brought disorder, and it was impossible to hear any command. A depressing exhaustion took over again. Only one gun, only axes, knives, and bottles of acid against machine guns. The lights came back on and the shooting stopped. A heated argument broke out. Moshe barely managed to calm the people down. The elders demanded to wait until morning and not to provoke the Germans. Moshe was determined to take advantage of the night. The majority supported to speed things up. Frantic preparations began. Barricades were set up near the doors and work tools and bottles of acid were distributed to each person. The tables were dismantled and their legs used as poles. An inner wall was destroyed and its bricks were piled up next to the barricades. A young man, whose name was also Miki like my brother's name, emerged as a clear leader.
He naturally became Moshe's deputy. He encouraged and organized the people. Anyone who tried to hide felt his blows and his knife. Most of them were divided into positions under the command of those who suddenly emerged from the crowd at the inevitable moment.
The darkness has passed. The morning light heralded the arrival of the terrible day. It was quiet all around. No one said a word. Only the heartbeats were heard. Everyone is waiting for the Germans to start: here come trucks and stop on the main street. Ukrainian policemen and one German approach the front door and order everyone to leave: Juden raus! [Jews out!] - the German's threatening shout is being heard. No one is moving. The German repeatedly shouts. The hearts beat strongly. The eyes widen and a cold sweat covers the body. “They are going up” - a whisper passes between the defenders. The wooden stairs make the sound of sure and quick steps. Who will be the first to dare? A thought passes like lightning among all. Suddenly, a shout is heard from one of the young men: “death to the Germans!” and pieces and wood, bricks and acid bottles were thrown at the policemen's heads, and with them wild shouts of encouragement. “Blood! Blood for blood!” The policemen retreated wounded. Their German commander covered his face with his palms and ran like a madman. The acid water put an end to his sight! All the policemen, who stood ready around the camp, looked stunned. The fear stuck to them as well! The joy of the mock victory spread among the Jews who leaped as one man towards the stairs to participate in the battle. With great difficulty Moshe was able to return everyone to their places.
Now the Germans used a trick. They took out all those who were hiding on the first floor, allowed them to take as many objects as possible, and even added a loaf of bread to each person. They politely began to put them on the trucks. Then, one gendarme stood at a distance and called everyone to come out without resistance, because they are being transferred to another labor camp: the front is getting closer and Jewish craftsmen are needed in the rear. Anyone who refuses will be killed on the spot.
It was hard to resist such a temptation. But no one moved from his place. The mere daring to raise a hand against the Germans instilled a spirit of heroism and self-respect on everyone. The desire for revenge - even the smallest revenge - fulfilled their wishes. The Ukrainian blood, which was spilled before the eyes of the Jews, was like oil for the fire. Everyone lay on the floor like persecuted animals fighting for their lives. In a moment they will break out with a mad roar and sink their claws into the flesh of their enemies. A group of lost Jews decided to die as heroes and save their honor and the honor of their people.
The rumor about the heroic war of the Jews in the camp quickly spread throughout the city. Businesses were closed and laborers stopped working - in anticipation of the results. Later, when I wandered through the villages, they still told about the heroism of the Jews of our city, and thanks to them they also respected me.
The Germans decided to attack. A squad of Ukrainians and Germans advanced on the steps as their weapons spit fire. The first young men fell. The wounded are writhing on the floor. For a brief moment it seems that all is lost and the murderers will break through the barrier. Suddenly, the cry of the rebels increases
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and the whistling of the bullets seems to get lost in it. Wave after wave they charge at the attackers: stones, axes, stick and whatever is available, they throw at the murderers' heads. Hand-to-hand combat. The Ukrainians, stunned and afraid of death, jump back and escape. Bricks and bottles of acid water fly after them. Some of them are already basking in their blood.
The second attack was pushed back. Our dead are respectfully placed in a single row in the farthest room. The severely wounded receive medical treatment and the slightly wounded remain near the barricades. The little water that remained was divided among the wounded.
The Germans tried a second ploy: they sent Natan, one of the leaders of the Jewish police in the ghetto, to convince the Jews. Nathan climbed the stairs, and before he could say a word, Miki tore his stomach to pieces. The Germans understood that the Jews' answer is - struggle. They called for reinforcements, and began break into the lower floor from several sides at once to capture room after room. In some places they were pushed back, and in other places they managed to capture dozens of Jews. Those caught were brutally tortured in front of everyone. When those who remained on the barricades saw the Germans' acts - they lost their spirit for a moment. Physical weakness gripped many to the point of nausea and vomiting. To die quickly, to hurry and die - was their wish. Some found a hiding place in all kinds of cracks and holes - no one prevented them from hiding. A day passed. The winter sun stood behind the camp. The time was 4-5 toward evening. There was no more strength to withstand this desperate struggle. The number of defenders dwindled.
The final decision has been made: to attack the chain of policemen surrounding the camp, and die in hand-to-hand combat. No one hoped to get out of this struggle alive. People parted from each other with strong and prolonged handshakes. Unequivocal glances. Many lips whispered Shema Yisrael before the final leap. The command has been given and the fire took hold of the four corners of the house. With mighty singing they jumped, one after the other, in front of the repulsive faces of the Ukrainians. The chain of policemen retreated, and the young men frantically climbed on the high barbed wire fence.
In the house I was in, only whispering and shuffling of feet could be heard. Everyone hurried to the windows. I jumped out my hiding place behind the stairs and quickly ran upstairs. I heard the rattle of machine guns and the fragmented singing of the Soviet Anthem. I rushed to the window and I was stunned. Great many young men were trapped in the barbed wire fence, and the machine guns tore them apart from all sides. We escaped from the windows. Great fear gripped us all. The spirit of heroism, which still flickered in the handful of young men, gradually faded. The wooden and iron rods, our weapons, were thrown away. Helplessness was all around. We ran from room to room, searching for a hole and a crack - just hide, to hide.
I walked to the hiding place that I had already prepared. With trembling hands I began to cover myself with the pieces of peat (turf). The machines guns rattled non-stop, and when they fell silent, I found myself covered only up to half of my body. What should I do, God in heaven? How can I cover myself? Every moment is precious. The Germans will break into and I'm still visible.
Suddenly the door opened. A young couple I knew well burst in. Panicked, they started to dig with their hands in the peat. But the place was too small to accommodate the three of us. “No” - they said to each other - “either we live together, or die together.” Desperate, they decided to look for another place. I don't remember if I asked them to cover me, but the picture was etched in my memory. I lie down, and the young man throws piece after piece of peat on top of me and covers me completely. His wife pulls him by his other hand, begging him to leave me and think about himself. And he, like a Redeeming Angel, gets down on his knees and throwing pieces on me, more, and more and more. And while doing so he speaks to his wife in a soft and quiet voice: “never mind, either way we will not stay alive, but he might be saved. He is a boy, he might succeed.” And to me he turns with a commanding voice: “If you remain alive, remember, remember us - remember, because you must avenge the revenge of us all. Do you hear? You must avenge the revenge of us all!”
Translator's footnotes:
by Gad Rosenblatt, Israel
Translated by Sara Mages
Yoel Stcherbeto's childhood days are unknown to me. I can only begin to tell about the chapter of his life, and his events, from the day he appeared in our company. However, I believe that I'm allowed to draw a connecting thread to an earlier chapter of his life as well, and this is based on the many conversations I had with him on the nights of rain and frost by the burning fires in the forests of Ukraine and White Russia [Belarus].
The man told me many stories about his life before the war. His life was full of lively details of a young and energetic man, a life full of content, during the time of the Poles until the outbreak of the German-Polish war, when he was a soldier in the Red Army and later in the partisans 'cavalry companies. I remember that on that rainy day of the late autumn of 1942, the partisan Yosef Bluz came running to our camp and informed on the presence of a group of paratroopers in the vicinity. Indeed, for several nights the humming of the airplanes didn't stop, and it was clear to those who understood the secret that this was the parachuting of Russian paratroopers. But, we couldn't imagine that they are right in our vicinity, therefore we were surprised by this news and the fact that our eyes see a group of paratroopers well armed with automatic weapons and a radio transmitter.
Among the members of the group was a young man whose name we later changed to Stcherbeto. Already in our first meeting the young man, nicknamed “Wani” by the paratroopers, stood out as someone who knows the military theory in its entirety, the theory of using weapons and all that is involved. The next day, we saw Wani Stcherbeto cleaning the paratroopers' automatic weapon, called “Finkim,” thorough knowledge of disassembling and reassembling them. The “Finkim” came out from under his hands polished and shiny as new.
Wanka Stcherbeto was first surprised by the existence of our group, a fighting Jewish group in this area, something he never dreamed of, and now he sees it with his own eyes.
This case caused a great change in him and his state of mind the whole time he was in the partisan group. According to his words, he fled from Lutsk to Rozhyshche at the beginning of 1942. In this period he was put in the ghetto together with his family members, and was in the ghetto until the day of the slaughter. Miraculously, that day Stcherbeto was the sole survivor of his family, and in the darkness of the night left for the surrounding forest. Like the other slaughter refugees he wandered in the forests and villages, built shelters in secret places in the forest and accumulated food for the winter.
One day, he met the group of paratroopers who were hiding among the trees and bushes
in the young pine forest. The paratroopers decided to take him to them apparently as a man knowing the roads and the paths in the vicinity. Since the paratroopers' area of operation was in the vicinity of the Kovel-Kiwerce railway, the group decided to head south, to the Tsuman Forest on the way to the Lapatin forest. In this trek, Stcherbeto proved his knowledge of the area's topography and orientation. Already in the middle of the trek, the paratroopers' commanding officer, Alyosh, appointed him as the group's machine gunner.
His appearance in his tattered clothes, torn boots, wildly grown beard and mustache, initially repulsed our men, but a few days later we discovered under the shell - the Jewish fighter and friend Yoel Shcherbato.
When the paratroopers group merged with our group, Stcherbeto's place as the machine gunner of the united company was preserved. Furthermore: he received an additional role as an instructor in the use of small arms and machine guns. His military knowledge, which he gained while serving in the army, helped him leave his mark on most of the members of the company: he organized night combat patrols, other combat exercises, and also taught proper handling of other automatic weapons, especially the Degtyaryov machine gun.
On 23 November, 1942, in a battle in the Tsuman forest, Stcherbeto took advantage of the firepower of his machine gun and served as a destructive and decisive factor in this battle against the Germans and the Schutzmannes [policemen] who attacked in a chain.
Our group, together with Shcherbato, proved that it is possible to use an automatic weapon to its limit and cause a lot of damage to the attackers. The lion's share of our victory in this battle goes to Shcherbato. In December 1942, at the time of the consolidation of our group with Kovpak's Brigade, Stcherbeto stayed by the machine gun that never left his hand all the time he was in the brigade.
The way he held his submachine gun was well known in the brigade in general and in the 9th Company in particular. The machine gun didn't let him down in any battle, his share of the fire in the battle was guaranteed.
In the summer of 1943, in the brigade's trek to the Carpathian Mountains to liberate the Skalat Jews from the concentration camp in the city and organizing some of them in the 7th Company - it was Shcherbato who received the assignment from the brigade headquarters. Shcherbato came immediately to consult with Petti and me. Together we planned lines of action that he conveyed to the brigade headquarters.
During the days of the organization of the 7th Company, it was possible to see the great enthusiasm infected him in performing this role. His complete seriousness, initiative and energy contributed greatly to the realization of the organization.
Only then we saw more clearly the proud figure of a tall Jewish warrior. As the only one of his kind, Shcherbato was the first commander of the Jewish 7th Company in Kovpak's Brigade. Shcherbato was severely wounded in the company's bombing at the entrance to the Carpathian Mountains, but he continued to be interested in what was happening. Our members from the 9th, our mother company, invited him to return to them and help him to recover. Shcherbato returned together with them from the Carpathian Mountains to White Russia. In the fall of 1943, in the vicinity of Elibsk in White Russia, Shcherbato finally recovers, and even though signs of a limp are still clearly visible in his walk, none of this hinders him in his role that he returns to after a break of three months - the time of his illness and injury.
At the conclusion of the activities in the Carpathian by the brigade headquarters, Shcherbato's name is found in the list of people receiving merit badges. In January of 1944, in the brigade's trek west to Poland across the Vershigora border, Shcherbato is found again among the first partisans advancing through the mud and sand roads of occupied Poland under the Nazis' boot.
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In the storm of battles, Shcherbato passes dozens and hundreds of villages and settlements with the brigade, and sows destruction and fear among the Nazis and their helpers among the country's residents. In this campaign Shcherbato participates in dozens of bloody battles and acts of sabotage.
In the second half of March 1944, at the bridge crossing of the Western Bug River, in the brigade's journey back to the lands of Western Ukraine, Shcherbato is found among those who storm the bridge. His machine gun sows fire and death on the Nazis who entrench themselves in posts next to the bridge.
Several companies of the brigade had already managed to silence most of the bunkers and the posts on the side of the bridge. Only one, on the left side, continues to rain a deadly fire on the partisans crossing the long bridge in a run.
Shcherbato decides, on his own accord, to crawl to the cursed post and destroy it. In an instant, a brutal fight breaks out between a Jewish machine gunner, who is lying on the planks of the bridge, and the Nazis in the post. The air is shaking from the sound of explosions and the grenades, which were thrown by Shcherbato to the post, but apparently the Nazis are still alive. A burst of phosphorus bullets hits Shcherbato's head and he falls in battle on the wooden railing of the bridge. His friends, the partisans, furiously storm the post and destroy it. Those, who found him dead, later told that a smile of satisfaction was imbedded on his lips, because he knew that with his death he made it possible to eliminate the Nazis in post and freed the bridge crossing. His head was resting on his machine gun. His left arm held the barrel and a finger from his right hand was on the machine gun trigger. That's how Shcherbato was in his death.
Shcherbato was buried with partisan honor in the village next to the border.
by Gad Rosenblatt, Israel
Translated by Sara Mages
I remember Buslik from the day he appeared at our place with a group of three partisans from Kolky under the leadership of a Russian Major. In those days we were in the vicinity of the dense Klubochyn Forest. The liaison, Bernblum from Kolky, referred the group to our camp.
It was a late autumn day. For some reason the rains were late to fall and the ground was scorched by the hot sun. The days were beautiful and clear without a cloud and rain, as if the sky gave us a little compensation for the many murders in Ukraine. At least, soil without mud and water, dry soil. On that day Buslik appeared with two other partisans and a Russian officer. He was dressed in the uniform of a Russian officer, armed with a revolver, polished boots and was clean shaven. He showed great confidence and his speaking voice was steady and convincing.
Buslik was happy for the opportunity given to him to personally participate in the first blasting operations of the Rivne-Sarny rail line.
The group settled among us. The Russian Major agreed to start instructing our men in combat exercises and fieldcraft. And here an accident happened, and in one of the exercises a bullet was fired from a rifle, the shot pierced the air and instilled fear on our people. I think that it was our first shot heard throughout the Klubochyn Forest…
Of course, after that we had to leave this area of the forest. We erected our camp in the vicinity of Lypyny- a neighboring forest. On the other hand, the members of the Kolky group moved south in the direction of Kivertsi, to the location where they would blow up the railroad tracks.
In the late hours of the following night, we heard the sound of a huge explosion in the distance and the sky turned red from the flames of fire. We knew that this was the handiwork of Buslik's sabotage group. We were sincerely happy for the success of this mission.
The second time I met Buslik was when he joined us in the vicinity of Czermin in the Vysotsk region, during our trek eastward to the division of Major General Kovpak.
It was at the beginning of December 1942. A clear winter day stood outside. The cold penetrated the bones and the group warmed up next to the stoves in the peasants' huts. Outside, a guard stood by the access road to the house. Suddenly I noticed that one of the guards running to us in panic: the local people came and warned us that not far from our house, an unknown armed group was hiding in the granary in a small grove. I immediately got my men on their feet and we went out. We started to advance behind trees to the granary in the grove. In the end, it turned out that the mysterious group was none other than the Kolky group that left its location and, like us, made its way east. That night it arrived in the village and camped for the day in the granary. It turned out that they also advanced eastward in search for large partisan units. Among them I found again the fighting partisan, Buslik.
The third time I found him in the village of Kobryn, by the water canal that crosses the village opposite the rural school. On that day, December 21, 1942, a number of companies from the Kovpak Brigade attacked the German posts in the rural school yard. The brigade decided to eliminate the posts and several elite companies were sent for this mission. The battle was conducted with great cruelty, its destructive power, and the great killing, increased from moment to moment. The climax was reached in the morning, at the time of the dispersal of darkness and the twilight of the sunrise on the horizon. The Nazis activated all the mortars and began to systematically sow fire around the canal. Most of the people around the canal were killed. Shells started falling into the canal and several partisans were killed on the spot. An hour later, the light directed all the fire to the canal and in an instant it turned into hell. The cries of the wounded could be heard far and wide. Severed limbs mixed with icy mud and wood chips splashed up. Most of our men were killed in a few moments. Those who were still intact threw themselves into the water channel whose thin ice crust had melted. The Nazis' bullets from the machine guns
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placed on the school roof also reached the remaining few. As a participant in this battle I found myself in these horrible moments under the bush. I lay and shot and watched the dance of death between us. Suddenly, my eyes fell on a partisan who was laying under a mound of earth next a dwarf bush - a dwarf pine - and continues to rain bursts of bullets into the school windows from which the German shooters could be seen. I looked at him and couldn't believe what I was seeing: to my great astonishment I recognized my friend Buslik, the only machine gunner who continued to fight.
The Germans didn't allow him to fight for long. Apparently this picture also surprised them. The whole area around him was covered with mortar shells, and the head of the heroic warrior was crushed by one of them. In those terrible moments of the battle and the anxiety for what is to come, I felt strange sticky moisture that suddenly stuck to my face. I reached out my hand to wipe it, I looked at my hand and I saw on it a mixture of human brain and sticky mud - both together were from Buslik - from the ditch where he lay, fought and fell a hero's death
Buslik was buried as a partisan hero in the vicinity of the cemetery in Kobryn in White Russia.
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