[Page 51]

Bear a melancholy blessing, sad childhood abode, Open your door to this visitor, a remnant of your past! I may have not removed my shoes before entering-- But my heart, in a barefooted tremble, will bow at your threshold. A dozen years like a dozen heavy curtains Will darken, dim, and deepen the gap between us, Oh, how much bitterness has flowed since And how much of life's dust was shed by the saw of time! Would your bosom still provide warmth, could repose still be found Within the shade of your roof, like once in the days of dawn? Away from the street and the market, overlooking the river and meadow, You stand wounded in ruin, proud like a fallen aristocrat. Your cracks have not been mended since those evil days, Barren is your destruction, exposed, without cover: The fence uprooted, the garden trees cut to the roots. Where is the cherry's shade, the redness of the strawberry bushes? (Only the chestnuts still stand at your entrance --Guarding with wounded trunks and tangled tops-- Of all the multitude of trees only these two survived, Dutiful invalids, faithful guardians.) It seems every one of your walls recounts its woes: “Much evil I saw and scores of dreadful blows, I will never be what I once was-- So why heal? For what? For whom? It isn't worth it!

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Here is where the Don's horsemen raged, Austrians, Germans battled, Petliura's savages, ḥamil's great-grandchildren, scum of the earth, rampaged,[1] The pentagram turned red,[2] and as of late Poland's wealthy landlords, with their twisted pride, staked their claim here. You have known my story. In your own flesh you know. Oh, these are The chronicles of the houses of Israel at times of revolution and repulsion! No longer am I a restful dwelling but a house of pain, With my head down between my cracks I wallow in tears!” Bear a tearful blessing, childhood's pained abode, Receive the gift of heavy sorrow from a visiting descendent, I may have not removed my shoes before entering-- Yet my heart, in a barefooted tremble, will sob at your threshold.

A Group of “The Pioneer” (HeHalutz), 1931[3]

[Page 53]

After 3-4 years of wandering our family settled down in the small town of Mlynov near Dubno, the district of Volyn, in Western Ukraine, which during the period 1918-1939 was part of the Polish state. In this town lived my grandfather – my mother's father, Rabbi Judah Leb Lamdan, an exceptional Jewish person and human being, worthy of mention and special description. In this town I grew up, was educated and was personally molded. Here I passed the years of my childhood and youth and became a man. I left in August 1940 – two years and two months before they covered over the mass grave, which contained the entire Jewish congregation, including my parents, my cousins, all my friends, the day of slaughter, the 28^th of Tishrei, 5703 (1942), August 7, 1942.^[2] Not one of the few survivors of the destruction returned to dwell there and the small town was erased from the map of the Jewish communities forever.

I will dedicate the lines that follow to this small town – which was typical of many others in the Jewish Pale of Settlement in Western Ukraine, and in which generations of Jews grew up rooted and full of life, faithful to the house of Israel, adhering with their entire souls and might^[3] to their people and its tradition and with vision of its redemption.

The small town of Mlynov was situated a distance of 4 kilometers from the intersection of the Rovno-Berestechko and Dubno-Lutzk roads. The distance to the close towns: 20 km to Dubno, 35 km to Lutzk, 50 km to Rovno, 40 km to Berestechko. The district seat was Dubno, to which the towns were tied from an administrative perspective both in the period of the Russian Tzarist government until 1918 and also in the Polish government (1919-1939). Its commercial ties were with two “large” towns in the district: Dubno and Rovno. Dubno served as a center for trade of grain and convenience items, Rovno – [served as a] wholesale center for textiles and sewing. Occasionally, the merchants of Mlynov would go by train to the distant town of Levov (“Lemberg”, in Yiddish and German), 153 km distance from the town of Dubno. (The closest train station was in Dubno).

The small town was situated in the center of the estate of the Count Chodkiewicz, descended from the well known war hero Jan Karol Chodkiewicz.^[4] It was by the Ikva River.

[Page 54]

The town [of Mlynov] was established in the beginning of the 19^th century or at the end of the 18^th century. The source of the name Mlynov was from the Polish word “Malin” which means mill. In the river there were still, in the period I am writing about between the two Wars, columns and posts – remnants of four flour mills, near where the town was established. These mills were consumed in a great fire in the second half of the 19^th century.

On the other side of the river, in a large, fenced park, the palace^[5] of the Count was situated, only very few honored individuals from the Jews of the town were entitled to see inside, because the entire family of the Count had an extreme hated of Jews. For various kinds of dealings, indeed, the Count needed Jewish merchants, but they came into contact only with managers of the estate [not the Count]. They would say that the Count himself would only rarely come out to speak to a Jew. In addition to the hatred from the Count's family, Jews were afraid to stroll near the park out of fear of Polish workers and servants, who worked on the estate of the Count and in his household economy, who would always sick their dogs against Jews, stone them with rocks and, more than once, lash them with whips. The palace served, therefore, for the Jews of the town, and especially for the kids, as an endless source of legends and tall tales about the Count's family, his father the old Count, their parents and their parents' parents, and about the precious and rare ornaments that were in the palace. With the Soviet conquest in September 1939, the palace was open for a few days to the general community, but it was empty, because everything inside was looted and destroyed overnight by the farmers in the surrounding area.

Not far from the park near the main road to the Count's fields was a man-made hill, which according to legends were set up by soldiers of Kosciuszko^[6] who stayed in this place for a number of days. Jewish children who imagined scenes from the Five Books of Moses (Humash) in all places, call the hill, “Mount Sinai.”^[7] On the hill and around it grew thick trees and its loose soil during spring sprouted dense and tall grass, and it had a strong pull on Jewish youth during Sabbaths and festivals. In contrast, no Jewish foot dared to draw near during Sundays and Christian holidays from fear of non-Jews (“sheygetzim”^[8]).

The whole area was beautiful: the river valley, and the pasture meadows along it, fields extending to the horizons, orchards, extensive and thick woods and forests dozens of square kilometers, which in the past were filled with gangs of legendary robbers and in the future would serve as a hiding place for Soviet Partisans and national Ukrainians bandits and “White Poles.”^[9] Many of the Jews who sought hiding in these forests from the Nazi invader, died at the hands of various murderers and only a few in number managed to find a place to hide in them until the day of liberation.

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The Town's Residents and Livelihood

The focal point of the small town was the market square, at one end of which stood the Russian Orthodox Church. Along the river, opposite the palace of the Count, stood a Polish Church. On a number of narrow lanes around the market square stood Jewish homes. Behind the lanes of Jews were streets of Ukrainian gentiles. These streets were called “The Village.” Next to the palace there was a neighborhood of Poles, employees of the Count. Clerks and Polish businessmen lived among the Jews and Ukrainians.

In the small town as a whole, there were two thousand souls, about 800 of them Jews, about the same number of Ukrainians and the rest were Poles. Most of the Jews were small grocery and pub owners, artisans and waggoneers, who engaged in transporting grain from the small towns to cities nearby and transporting back needed goods from the cities. Once a week, a large market day was held and was attended by thousands of farmers from the many villages in the area as well as hundreds of Jewish merchants also from the nearby towns. These Jewish families made a living by selling drinks [alcoholic], cakes and sweets from stalls in the market, and from this day alone they made their meager living for the entire week.

On the Sabbaths and during the Jewish festivals the entire town rested and the market square was empty of people. By contrast, the town bustled with life during the Christian holidays, during which many farmers came from the surrounding area. Even though commerce during these holidays was forbidden by the Polish government, it flourished behind closed doors and shuttered windows.

Most of the Jews of the town lived with difficulty and barely earned a living. Artisans worked hard from early in the morning until late evening hours. One segment of the artisans, namely the builders, carpenters, plasterers –would circulate during the week to the villages and return home on the Sabbaths. During the winter, they were without any work. Before the festivals, tailors and shoemakers would work until midnight. The shop owners would also extend their store hours up to the Sabbath with the expectation of sales. Two small groups^[10] of merchants, namely those in grain and textile, were “wealthy“ relative to the generally low economic standards. Only one Jew was a “rich man” – owner of a large flour mill, which sold flour to distant places, and the return on his efforts, according to rumor, were a million gold Polish [currency] a year. The same man, Mr. Yosef Gelberg, repaired wooden wagon wheels in the past – he was, as usual, a miser. The Soviet government expropriated his wealth in September 1939. Three years afterwards, he was brought to slaughter with all his sons and all the Jews of the small town. (One grandson of his, who fled to Russia, survived and is now living in Israel).^[11]

In the small town were three synagogues: The large one of the Trisk Hasidim, the “kloyz”^[12] [house of study] of the Stolin Hasidim and the “kloyz” of the Olyker Hasidim.

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All the older people were strictly observant, but this observance was not extreme in comparison to that which was true of Congress Poland^[13] and Galicia.^[14] In the small town, there was not anyone who wore fur hats (streimels)^[15] and they didn't have long, curly sidelocks (peyot).^[16] Women did not shave their heads^[17] upon entering the marriage canopy (hupah). The religious did not belong to religious parties and related in general with tolerance to younger generation, who in turn did not publicly injure the feelings of the religious persons.

In the Jewish cemetery, there was the grave of Rabbi Aaron, the grandson of Rabbi Aharon “the great,” from Karlin. This rabbi expired suddenly at the end of the 19^th century while visiting his Hasidic followers in Mlynov and was buried there. One of the days in the month of Iyar became the anniversary of the Rebbe's death. On that day, hundreds of Stolin-Karliner Hasidim would “ascend” to the grave of the Rebbe and would finish the day with a great festive meal (kiddush).

When the communities (kehillot) were recognized, at the start of the 1930s, as autonomous religious organizations, in other words, as authorized legal entities, and among other things able to impose taxes on the members of the community, Mlynov was joined by 5 additional small communities in the towns nearby: Muravica (Mevits), Boremel, Demidovka, Targovista (Trovits) and Ostrozhets; Mlynov served as the center for this unified community (kehilla). The head of the Kehilla was generally chosen from the residents of Mlynov which is where the Kehilla office was located. During the period the Kehilla existed until its destruction, they appointed two heads of the Kehilla – R. Yosef Berger, z”l, sexton (gabbai) of the “large” synagogue, a wealthy man in the past, but whose fortunes diminished after WWI, and he sustained himself from a small store for kitchen wares. A smart man with an honorable appearance. He died in 1935. The second was Mr. Chaim Kipergluz,^[18] sexton of the study/prayer house (kloyz) for the Stolin Hasidim, an owner of a clothing store, a Zionist who inclined towards [the religious Zionist organization] Mizrachi,^[19] a supporter of The Pioneer (HeHalutz) youth movement. His daughter, Rachel, made aliyah to the Land [of Israel] as a Pioneer in 1935 and lives today in Hadera. The last Rabbi of the congregation was Rabbi Yehuda Gordan.^[20] This rabbi was taken out to be killed by the Nazis shortly after they occupied Mlynov. As the last head of community, who served during the Nazi period, and a member of the Judenrat, he was taken out to be killed during the day of general massacre.

The whole town was penetrated by the Zionist spirit. The Zionist activities were concentrated almost entirely among the youth movements. The adults, the fathers of the children, were preoccupied in their minds almost entirely with worries over a living and were not organized into parties. A few mover and shakers were active in raising money for financial endowments, sold shekalim^[21] before Zionist Congresses, and served as representatives towards the governments. But most of the “average persons on the street” related with great love towards everything connected to the Land of Israel (Eretz Yisrael) and looked favorably on the activities of the pioneer youth movements.

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It was not within the capability of the small and poor community (kehilla) to establish a Hebrew school, but all parents, even the poorest among them, including shoe makers and waggoners, sent their children, if they so desired, to a private teacher to study Hebrew. The (importance) of studying Hebrew was not questioned, just as it was self-evident that every child needed to learn how to pray. There was no house that refused for ideological reasons to have the blue [charity] box of the Jewish National Fund (Keren Kayemet) for Israel.^[22] In the Zionist rallys of the people before the election of the Zionist Congress, or in relationship to the important events in the Jewish world and in the Land of Israel- for example, the protest over the “White Paper”^[23] and also for Zionist festivities – all the residents of the small town participated except for a few of the elderly and infirmed.

For Simhat Torah, most of the people younger than 40-45 joined the Zionist quorum (minyan) and many older folks as well. Basically, there was no group established that was anti-Zionist.

A small group of communists was only organized in the last years before the destruction who almost did not dare to appear in public. This group was established under the influence of two families of “strangers” who came to the town from the close town of Dubno. They were joined by a number of young men and women who were disaffected and who had left the youth group, The Pioneer (HeHalutz) (member of this group, who survived the destruction, returned [to Zionist commitments] and afterwards made aliya to the Land [of Israel]).

The Zionist activities of the town began in fact some time before WWI during the Tzarist reign. Already there was a group of young educated people, experts in Hebrew literature, who saw themselves as aligned with “Youth of Zion” (Tze'irei Zion).^[24] In 1919, moreover, the first immigrant to make aliyah from Mlynov, when he was 19 – the well-known poet Yitzhak Lamdan (the brother of my mother, the person writing this essay), who became very famous in the later part of the 1920s in Israel because of his poem “Masada.”

Only when life returned to normal after War World I and the Polish-Russian War, in the years 1921/22, were the youth movements, “The Pioneer” (HeHalutz) and the “Young Guard” (Hashomer Hatzair), organized. In 1924/25 all the local youth, ages 18-30, were signed up in The Pioneer (HeHalutz) and in the local “Palestine Office”^[25] – of which my father was the director and which set up our small apartment for no fee on its authority. These youth had serious intentions, and all were ready to make aliyah with no additional prompting. There were many younger people who “forged” their age and registered as age 18 with the hope they would be able to make aliyah. The most substantial activities were brought to light by “The Pioneer” (HeHalutz) branch, which had majority and best of the youth involved. During the decade from 1926-1936, the youth clubhouse bustled everyday from late afternoon until late in the evening, and alone served as the center of light and hope for Hebrew youth in a cruel and depressing reality, which already by then hinted of the coming destruction which was imminent.

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Besides “The Young Guard” (Hashomer Hatzair), The Pioneer and Betar^[26] groups were active. In the years 1931–1932, a training kibbutz (hachsharah) of the Betar movement was established in the small town [of Mlynov].

The activities that were blessed were brought to life by the Tarbut^[27] [“Culture”] branch, which was established by Samuel Mandelkern,^[28] one of the first pioneers of all the local Zionist activities and one of the first to make aliya to the Land [of Israel] (1925), who lives today in Israel in Tel Aviv and continues his fruitful public activities. In fact, this branch failed to establish a local Hebrew school officially recognized [by the Polish government], but he managed, with the help of the youth movements, to spread knowledge of Hebrew with great success. Every young local Jewish person knew Hebrew. The activities of the youth movement were conducted almost entirely in Hebrew.

Fröbel-School[29] (kindergarten) and Public-School “Tarbut” in Mlynov Original courtesy of Zeev Harari

[Page 59]

The Zionist activities and influence on the Zionist youth movements diminished in the last three years before the outbreak of the War, principally because most of the activists with leadership ability made aliyah to the Land [of Israel].

The seniors set up groups for: Mishnah, Palms, and Ein Yacob.^[30] During the winter months and Sabbath afternoons, there were always groups of Jews in the synagogue studying Torah. Likewise, charity (tzedakah) groups were active: “Supporters of the Poor” and “Visitors of the Sick” (Bikkur Holim). In addition to Supporters of the Poor, which established an organized monthly collection, and gave steady support to those in need, there were men and women movers and shakers who organized collections of “Anonymous Gifts” for the needy who were ashamed to receive open handouts. The feelings of solidarity and charity (tzedakah) were highly developed. It happened more than once that the head of a comfortable family got sick for a prolonged period and the family was left with no provider, or that one of the family members got sick and the recovery required paying a large sum, greater than the ability of the family, or that a Jew violated some law of the State and was expected to be punished with incarceration and was not able to pay a lawyer, or someone was going to make aliya to the Land [of Israel] and didn't have the means for the trip – in all of these and similar situations, they would organize collections from house to house and everyone donated according to his capacity. In addition, they would organize receptions, raffles, plays and the income would be “holy” [dedicated] to an actual goal.

There was also a “Committee on Orphans” that was supported by the American JOINT (Distribution Committee) and also by the “Charity Treasury” which was supported by the same organization. This treasury was well respected in helping small shops, who were always very hard-pressed by a shortage of cash. In addition to the treasury mentioned above, the practice of charity was very developed. Jews of the town always helped each other by giving small, short term loans, which were regarded as a life-line.

In the city of Baltimore in the United State, there was a committee of immigrants from Mlynov, which twice a year before Rosh Hashanah and before Passover would send a sum of money to be distributed among the needy.^[31]

I was born in Mlynov, but I lived for 25 years in Sloboda.^[2] Afterwards, I went to live in Mlynov until I made aliyah to the Land [of Israel] in 1921.

I studied with three teachers: Natan, Yosel, and Artzi. The latter was brother-in-law of Zechariah and his house was next to Aaron Putchter.^[3] I studied until age 16, and afterward, I started to work in road construction; this continued until the First World War.

I remember all the heads of households in Mlynov for two generations. For example, Yosel's father and Chaim Berger, and the father of Moshe Ares' [son], of Itzikel Bulmas and Putcher and so on.

Abraham Slobodar [Goldseker]^[4] came from the town of Dubno, I estimate in the year 1870, and lived in Slobada with his family, which included 5 sons and one daughter, whom you, the younger generation, will also definitely recall. Until 1891, he would lease land from the Count and work it with his sons, and with a few hired laborers until 1891, as I said, – until that period when the Russian government expelled all the Jews from the villages.^[5] At that point, he moved with his family to Mlynov and engaged in construction contract work for the Count. The family grew and branched out and this is the Goldseker family.

Aaron Putcher was easy going and popular with everyone. There were three sons and three daughters in his family. His brother, Benjamin, was the Rabbi in the town of Ostrozhets. The wife of the Rabbi Benjamin was my aunt, the sister of my father.

The year in which the Rebbe from Stolin died, I do not remember exactly. I only remember, because when I was ten, I asked my parents about the building that stood in the cemetery. And they told me that the Rabbi from Stolin came to Mlynov to visit and died in a sudden fashion. They set up a memorial monument and around it a building – [called a] “tent” (ohel).^[6] In the tent was an eternal light and there was a man, Abraham Khollis,^[7] who watched over the eternal light so that it would not go out; The son of this Abraham, Asher Khollis, you also undoubtedly remember. On the anniversary (yarzheit) of [the Rebbe's] death, many from cities and towns would gather in Mlynov; they could even come from the Land of Israel (Eretz Yisrael).

[Page 61]

The large synagogue was built first and next to it the small synagogue, which was named for the Rav from Stolin. The third synagogue was named for the Rabbi of Olik [Olyka, Ukraine today].

The flour mill belonged to the Count Chodkiewicz. In the early years, a Jew from Mlynov leased it and his name was Rabbi David – the father of Shintzi Maizlish. He held the mill for a number of years and then passed away. Afterwards, merchants from Dubno leased it but apparently were not successful with their enterprise. They insured the flour, the grain and even the sacks – and the mill burned down – “the owners” received the insurance sums and that ended the matter. This was in the year 1893.

With respect to the large fire in Mlynov there was the following incident. One Jew from the town of Lutsk came to Mlynov and rented a house from [or next to]^[8] a Goldseker and opened a pharmacy. He insured his wealth, including the medicines, with an insurance company. During a month of festivals, he traveled with his family to his parents in Lutsk, and he “entrusted” his holdings to a young man in Mlynov – and the house burned down. This fire burned two-thirds of the town. The wind was strong and the fire reached even to the village of Kerychuk^[9] and overtook several houses there. With the sum of money that he received from the insurance company, he built a large building for himself next to the building of Dr. Vislotsky.

After the large fire, the Count Chodkiewicz refused to permit the building of new houses before renewing their contracts. Additionally, he also demanded large sums [of money] in addition to the prior sums [imposed]. There were lawsuits and judgments that were favorable for the town's residents. After [the fire], building began and continued for two years – 1892/93.

I didn't have disputes with gentiles during those days. During the War period (the First World War), they helped me a great deal. Before I made aliya to the Land [of Israel] one gentile came to me and offered me a [conditional] gift for the festival of Passover, 2 pods of wheat if I didn't go to the Land of Israel…

The large pandemic^[10] broke out about the year 1894/1895 and 50 people died in Mlynov.

The period of the Revolution broke out about 20 years before the War and continued until the War. Many were killed and imprisoned and the suffering was great. After the War, all the force was organized and they toppled the government of [Tzar] Nicholas II. This began the Communist reign.

How did I make aliyah to the Land [of Israel]? I worked with a contractor. He was a major Zionist. It was he who influenced me and planned a program for me in the Land [of Israel]. When the War [WWI] began, he fled with his family to the Russian interior and I fled to Rovno. Frequently I got from him letters and invitations to visit. In 1921, I made aliyah to the Land [of Israel]; The contractor followed in 1934 with his family. He settled in Rehovot and died there.

In arriving in the Land [of Israel] I went to Petah-Tikvah. There I was given a good place of work. My son David and I, worked in an orchard. Shortly afterwards, the bloody clashes between Jews and Arabs occurred and somehow we were not harmed. In 1923, I moved to Balfouria.^[11] In 1929 the unrest began again – thank God I survived this danger.

Moishe Fishman and his grandson Aaron [Slivka]. Moshav Balfouria Original courtesy of Irene Siegel, dated April 1953

I thank you shtetele Mlynov, my dear shtetele in which I spent my childhood years, for giving me the opportunity to learn in your cheder, in your school, and in your study house. I left you on the eve of the first World War, when I fell into the huge melting pot of the United States of America. I have, however, sworn to never forget you.

I cannot forget: –

• The resounding, hearty outbursts during the Stolin Hasidic prayers in the Stolin prayer house…
• The rebbe's visit. We celebrated with a meal in the prayer house, and Hasidim grabbed the remnants of the rebbe's food.^[2] As they repeated “L'chayim”^[3] and started to dance, who could worry about the future?…
• The many thousands of petitions that were tearfully thrown into the holy box in the room at the cemetery^[4]…
• The many Hasidim who came from faraway places and from Palestine.^[5] Hasidim with their white socks, in their shiny kapotes and fur hats, celebrating in the Stolin prayer house, having meals there, and visiting the grave every year on the anniversary of the rebbe's death.
• The weeping and cries when someone in the family passed on, and the sad sounds of, “charity saves from death.”^[6]
• The meeting between bride and groom with their parents on the day of a wedding; the musicians, the entertainer, the wedding ceremony near the house of study.^[7]
• The school assistant with his broad shoulders carrying the children to cheder.
• Itse the water carrier with two huge pails of water, and the yoke over his worn shoulders.

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• The Mlynov bathhouse. We used to ask Peysi the bath attendant for a small broom rubbed with fat; we would climb on the highest bench and scream out, “Padovi, another bucket!” We beat and rubbed and scraped our backs until they were red.^[8] Afterwards we would go up to cool off in the ritual bath.
• The deep mud in Mlynov.
• The freezing winters, when our fingers “fell in love with” the doorknob when opening the door.
• The Halperin brothers with their tasty, imported products. The Count used to ride there with his two horses in tandem, one behind the other, and shop.
• The speaker with his sermons. The intellectuals swallowed every word. Once a Litvak came and gave a sermon using his “s” and his “oo”–who understood his language?^[9]
• Peysi the ritual slaughterer. When he took the shofar into his hands during Rosh Hashana, the windows really trembled. He did not blow a single incorrect note.
• Spreading out fresh–smelling hay the night before Yom Kippur, and then flagellating ourselves with the “holy whip.”^[10]
• The many backs that were warmed in the winter at the study house oven.
• Chanting maftir^[11] and praying at the eastern wall.^[12] How many respectable men did not receive these honors?
• The outdoor scenes, when Passover paraphernalia was made kosher.^[13]
• The pharmacist who prayed only during the high holy days.
• The small stores watching out for customers; their owners were running around somewhere creating interest-free loans.
• The sons of Aharon with their horses–and–britzkas,^[14] which drove Polish functionaries to their appointed places.
• The tones of the organ and bells from the Christian church in the middle of the market.
• The pretty melodic folksongs which the peasants used to sing coming home from harvest.
• Walking to Mervits on the Sabbaths; the fair in the marketplace; the Polish doctor; the Mlynov Count with his estate; the beautiful river; the bridges; the post office; Pinkhasovitsh the lawyer; the Goldseker family; the butcher shop – – –

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