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On July 31, 1942 I reached Volkovysk by wandering, in search for “refuge.” On February 28, 1945, I left Volkovysk forever, as someone who had been “rescued.” The two and a half years are divided into three periods, I was in Volkovysk itself for twelve months; I lived through the entire destruction in the bunkers, and in the end, I saw Volkovysk when it was liberated, when the Germans had been cleared out , but also – rid of all its Jews…

The following lines comprising a bit of memory, will serve as a modest contribution to the handing down of the folio and to establish to facts about the awesome demise and eradication of a total Jewish community, men, women and children.

As refugees from the Slonim ghetto, which at that very hour had drunk deeply from the cup of Hemlock, almost to its bottom, a group of eight of my relatives reached the outskirts of Volkovysk one Friday afternoon, by way of the Izavelin Road. One by one, or two at a time, we had left White Russia, where Slonim was located, by direct or circuitous means, crossing the border in the night, into the territory of the Third Reich where Volkovysk was located. “We had heard there was sustenance in Egypt^[1]” – the spreading rumor said, over the border – or according to the practical designation, “East Prussia, Bialystock District,” that Jews were still living somehow; but in any case their lives were not hanging in the balance.

On entering the city, I ran into a Jewish man who recognized that I was not local, and who greeted me with a Sholom Aleichem: “Undoubtedly you are from Slonim, so be careful that you don't run into a Polish policeman, who is worse than a German, come, I will take you through side streets.” Escorts were immediately found for all of us, and by various ways, we reached our appointed location without disruption.

Volkovysk was already in ruins after the fires that had burned for four days following the German bombing in the first week of the German-Russian War. There were only skeletons of building and gigantic bomb craters in the center of the city. Life went on in the outskirts of the city, The way to get from one part of the city to the other was through alleys overgrown with grass. This was a form of protection against a malevolent eye… and it was along such an alley that I hurried along, immediately after my arrival at the advice of the Jews. There, a committee had already been established to deal with the refugees from the Jewish communities of Slonim and Dereczin, that had been flattened to the ground.

The large yard on the Neuer Gasse, and the buildings surrounding it, was bursting with people. The daily life of the Jews of Volkovysk centered at that place. In the small white house to the left (the Jews joked: “The White House”) … was the seat of the Judenrat. In the large building to the right were all the services. Further up the yard – the secretariat and the detention house of the ‘Ordnung-Dienst’(the Jewish Police). Nearby, in a large stable, refugees waited to be settled. In the middle of the yard stood a kiosk, where the owner of the cafe, Spiegelglass, sold lemonade sweetened with saccharin, peculiar tasting juice, hard cookies that were baked from who-knows-what, and rolls with black seeds. This kiosk was the only public gathering place for

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Jews, the only open business… the only salvation were the seeds, which crackled in everyone's mouth, from the head of the Judenrat down to the smallest lad, who stood guard at the side of the gate, who was there to announce that a German ‘Limousine’ was there to assist in going down to the yard of the Judenrat…

I remained in Volkovysk for 28 days. Each day, I spent long hours at the Judenrat. This was the period when the lives of the Jews were subjected to a ‘structure.’ There was no ghetto in the vicinity. Only that Jews and Christians were not permitted to live under one roof. The Jewish houses were marked with a large, round yellow marker, that was hung over the entrance into a Jewish home. Jews worked in accordance with the allocation of the labor office of the Judenrat. Jews made their living from retail commerce (in fear and terror of the policeman – a Pole! – that he should not see that something was being carried under the handkerchief), and especially from barter: there were those that traded coins for their daily food, gold jewelry, and others who sold even a dress, a pair of socks, shirts. It was in this manner that the entire worth of the Jews streamed slowly but surely into strange hands. The last year – apart from victims of hunger, different forms of starvation – did not bring any upheavals; the yellow badges were worn, we went in the middle of the road, we worked at forced labor, we complied with the mad and uncivilized demands of the regime (the most peculiar demands at the Judenrat), and took comfort in the hope of redemption and liberation. Every 4-6 weeks, the lives of the Jews were imbued with fear by visits from the Gestapo. The news of such a visit spread with lightning speed through the Jewish dwellings that were crowded together. No person had the nerve to show his face in the street at those times. For a few days, life was tense, until these Angels of Destruction left the place, and the Jews would recite a blessing of salvation, that it was possible to get rid of them by buying them off with boots, suits, shades, watches, and like things.

As previously stated – the center of life was the Judenrat; it was that organization that presided over the external and internal lives of the Jews. Because of the extreme housing shortage, even this problem was solved also by the Judenrat, which allocated the dwellings under its control in proportion to the number of people. It looked after the work, distributed food, arranged for free medical care, inspected the hygienic And sanitary conditions, and in its time, looked after the refugees from White Russia (obtained documents for them, and largely spread them around to outlying cities and towns, especially to Bialystock).

The Head of the Judenrat was Dr. Isaac Weinberg, and his closest assistant in this work was – Dr. Yaakov Sedletsky. These two doctors – two opposites – complemented one another in a harmonious way. Weinberg – looking assimilated, with the appearance of a gentile, informal and aristocratic; Sedletsky – a man of the people, a lover of the masses, accessible; the common attribute they shared – integrity, dedication to the public, exacting and focused work, and by neglecting their own personal concerns – they were revered and respected by the entire Jewish populace.

If a rumor got started that someone in the Judenrat was being more concerned with himself rather than the general community – even the nerviest person, or a brazen individual, never even thought to question their integrity, or their clean hands, and the absence of any personal interest in these two doctors.

The head of the Secretariat was Noah Fuchs, who in his unique tight-fisted way, centralized all the work of the Judenrat in his own hands. The head of the labor office – Sham'keh Daniel; the Head of Supplies – Mulya Cantor; Liaison with the city; Berel Amstibovsky; Treasurer – Moshe Krapivnik. During the sojourn of the people from the Gestapo, Eliyahu Motya Ginsberg and Clara Niemchik would respond to all the demands they made of the Judenrat. Pidta dealt with the refugees. Apart from this, Sioma Gallin and Sonya Botvinsky were very active.

A great fright seized the Jews of Volkovysk when the refugees from Slonim and Dereczin began to bring news of the enemy and the terrifying massacres on the other side of the Zelvianka (which was the district

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boundary). On the one hand, they wanted to convince themselves that things like this wouldn't happen in the Third Reich (“desire is the father of the idea”). And yet, it was difficult to accept the idea that Hitler would make a distinction among on group of Jews to another. We were in the habit of discussing this matter at great length, especially with Dr. Weinberg and Noah Fuchs. I drew a parallel between this and the lines that stood during the time of the Bolsheviks, waiting for sugar: if there is enough sugar, it will be divided among everyone, if the German will only have the time, he will kill all the Jews. However, no person in that area then thought that the Germans would plunder the area where we were for almost two more years, and even less than that, that Volkovysk waits in the line for sugar…

Exactly the opposite (and again: “desire is the father of the idea”), it was easier to believe that Divine Salvation was just An eye blink away, that liberation would come by next winter. Dr. Weinberg was already concerned about that, how will the Bolsheviks think of him, and who was going to be the head of the Jewish Community.

However fate freed the rest of the members of the Judenrat from this concern.

In summarizing my impression of Volkovysk on the basis of having spent a month there, I do not have the capacity, as a refugee from the massacres on the second side of the Zelvianka, to speak about Volkovysk and its environs in an objective way, without comparison to what had happened 40-50 kilometers further east. In the ranks of the refugees, we were under the impression that there was an enormous difference. True there were depredations, pursuit and decrees; immediately after the German occupation, they “terminated” several tens of people. Among them, Dr. Feinberg, the lawyer Yoskowitz and his wife, Zohn-Mazya, and others. However, just because Volkovysk was annexed into the territory of East Prussia, life took on the appearance of stability. There were instances where Jewish prisoners were released from jail, and apart from punishment by death, there were also monetary fines, whippings, a half year or a full year in jail; it was possible to move around the area, or even to travel by train to Bialystock, even if only by permission of the head of the city, which he would grant for bribes, riding in a single car which was marked, “For Poles Only.” All of these privileges were available to those willing to pay a bribe, both on behalf of the Germans and the Polish police. The latter would circulate in the Jewish neighborhoods at every opportunity, on purpose, sticking out their hands. The Jews met the demands for bribery that were most mingled with helping the Judenrat meet the tax on the Jews, with the idea that the Jews needed to withstand this by whatever means, until the storm passes them over…

At the beginning of September 1942, thanks to the Judenrat, I was well-supplied with passes and appropriate documents, and I left Volkovysk and traveled to the nearby town of Mosty', 32 kilometers from Volkovysk. Then, I did not imagine that by leaving Volkovysk at that time, I had managed to avoid a certain death. Because two weeks didn't pass before not only Volkovysk, but the Jews of Bialystock were shaken, by the news of the notorious simultaneous arrest of all the Jewish doctors, dentists, and a number of pharmacists in Volkovysk. I was no longer in Volkovysk at that time, despite this, I would like to dedicate a few words to this depressing chapter of history, at least because the husband of my sister, Dr. Yitzhak Honigstein was among them, and my sister was among them during their imprisonment, and after she was set free, she, together with my second sister, were among those that expended the greatest effort on behalf of the

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imprisoned, so much so, that many details became known to me regarding these Ten Royal Martyrs^[2] I was well-supplied, about whom I wish to write here.

The news of the multiple arrests made by the Gestapo and the police, spread quickly from mouth to mouth among the Jews at nightfall one evening. It immediately became clear exactly whom they were arresting: all the Jewish doctors and dentists (men and women) and they were the following: the Doctors, Weinberg, Sedletsky, Cantor, Velvelsky, Kaufman, Honigstein and his wife, and the doctor, Mrs. Galand (who came with her elderly mother as a guest from faraway Georgia [sic: Gruzinia]), the dentists: Tropp, Mant, Pshenitska, Einhorn, and Peisik. Afterwards, several radio technicians were added as well. The impact of these arrests was enormous. Hand in hand with them, many rumors and explanations circulated, which acquired wings of their own through the entire Jewish Populace, there were those who explained the occurrence by saying the Germans needed medical resources at the front… others thought they knew enough to tell about a factory for illegal medicines (a thing that simply was without foundation, just like the first explanation). However the real reason came from an unknown quarter. The prisoners were confined to two bunkers ( out of the bunkers that later became so well-known as the ‘Ruzhany Bunkers,’), men and women separated. Despite this, the men and women were able to come in contact to exchange speech, from time to time, when they stood at the doors of the bunkers. They slept on wretched bunks, and food was permitted to be sent to them once in a few days.

The interrogation and questioning of the prisoners began on the third day. A nearby building was well appointed, and decorated as a command post, in which the Gestapo official conducted the interrogation. They went to the interrogation one at a time, each one of them several times. It was only then that it became known what this was all about.

In different ways, the Gestapo wanted to find out which one of the Jewish medical professionals had provided help to a partisan. The interrogation was conducted in a severe and crass manner. The doctors Cantor and Kaufman suffered especially badly; the former because of his stalwart behavior and tough responses, the second, because… of his athletic appearance (it was generally well-known that the Germans treated such Jews especially severely). In particular, they beat Dr. Cantor several times.

After the initial interrogations, the prisoners were informed that they would be given a week to think the matter over, and if one of them does not confess, they will all be accused of being guilty.

In the meantime, they released the radio technicians and all the women. It was only at that point that the Jews became aware of the situation, and they began to look in all directions for ways to obtain the release of the detainees. Special emissaries traveled to Bialystock on two occasions (Sonya Botvinsky and my sister) in order to enlist the help of the head of the Judenrat there, Engineer Ephraim Barash. After all this effort, it was communicated that the fate of the prisoners was under the control of the local Gestapo in Volkovysk. They succeeded in getting in contact with a high Gestapo official (much effort went into achieving this by Clara Niemchik), who promised to get them released. In time, the period of the ‘ultimatum’ came to an end, and the prisoners denied the charge, one after the other. The prisoners remained in confinement for a week after the final interrogation.

On October 11, the Gestapo officer had promised that all of them would be released on October 13 the latest. On the following day, the wives had a visit with their husbands and conveyed the news of their imminent

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release.

On the 13^th of the month, a transport vehicle arrived at the bunkers with an armed Gestapo detail; they brought out the ten prisoners and ordered them to take off their jackets and leave them in the office. Jewish workers from the barracks were witnesses to the final journey of the ten. In addition to this, among the workers was the daughter of Dr. Sedletsky, Ida, who fell into embrace with her father, and father and daughter were separated forever in a heart-rending manner. They were taken without delay outside of the city to a low hill, and all of them were shot. At ten o'clock, when the wives of the prisoners arrived at the appointed hour to await the “release” of their husbands – not one of them was still alive…

How much truth there was there to the facts on which the accusations were based? What was established in the confessions that the following took place: a number of days prior to the arrest, a Jewish doctor provided medical attention to a partisan in the Zamkova Forest. It was also known that one doctor refused to go into the forest for this purpose. One thing is clear, that Dr. Weinberg did this. Back while I was still in Volkovysk, when I was at his hoe (the last house on the Vilna Gasse beside the Piesk Road), he pointed out the adjacent Zamkova Forest and said, that in the end, his goal was to be there, in the forest. During the interrogation, he was, as it happens, treated rather well by the Germans, who did not suspect him of this ‘transgression,’ because of his important position. This led to him being the most optimistic one during the three weeks of their detention, full of hope for their eventual release, and in that conviction, he attempted to transmit that feeling to his comrades. But others saw the situation differently. Dr. Cantor (from Lodz) was especially pessimistic, as were Dr. Honigstein (from Volotzlavik), and Engineer Hirsch Putchkrenik from Vilna, a refugee from the Slonim ghetto, whom the Germans captured and killed along with the entire group. Dr. Cantor, who was broken and exhausted from the physical torture during the interrogation, decided to take the blame on himself during the time of the ‘ultimatum,’ but only after a considerable effort, especially Dr. Weinberg, they dissuaded him from doing this. Even Dr. Sedletsky was extremely worn down; in the face of this, it was Dr. Tropp the dentist, who stood out because of his stoic attitude, who would give encouragement to his comrades to hope for life in the last days. It is hard to know the reason why and for what reason Dr. Weinberg did not admit his guilt: possibly because of his apparent optimism, or perhaps he was persuaded that regardless of what he did, the situation would not change, but most importantly, that he did not want to place the Judenrat in danger, and thereby endanger the entire Jewish populace.

The Jewish population was as if suffering from a fever for these three weeks. Day by day, the Jews came to the offices of the Judenrat and gave money, gold and jewelry to obtain the release of the captives. Many of the Jews from the market sought ways and means to save the prisoners. It must be pointed out even here, that the Judenrat, whose two most respected members stood accused – did not involve itself in a direct manner in this issue…

The Jews of Volkovysk took a massive blow. The loss of the two doctors, Weinberg and Sedletsky was especially painful. The Jews felt themselves abandoned and forsaken, as if an iron bridge had crumbled away beneath them, and they refused to be comforted…

At the dawn of November 2, 1942, a group of Jews (350 people) were taken out of their homes in ancient Mosty', a half town and half village, and gathered together near the bridge over the Neman [River], and arranged them in rows of five. The elderly and the children were loaded onto wagons that had been previously commandeered from the gentiles, and under a heavy SS guard with pointed machine guns, drove them over the bridge to the Volkovysk side. No person knew where the way was taking them. However, in an instinctive way, the Jews of Mosty' felt that while up till now they had lived in an untroubled way, that this was their last journey. And when this “host” moved from that place, amidst the indifferent stares of the

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all the local peasants, who were dressed in their finery (what they wore for their holiday), and a Jewish woman called out: “Hey, goodbye to my birthplace” – all the hearts of the Jews that were pounding with fright senses, that not one of them would ever return…

After several hours, we reached Piesk. It was here that we saw that this type of “action” was not confined to Mosty' only. The ghetto was surrounded by Germans and local police, shut and locked, in a condition of overcrowding: they were waiting for a group, for us. We were put into the crowded ghetto and we received notice, that tomorrow morning at 6:00AM, we would travel onwards. That night was a night of vigil. For those who showed some foresight in packing whatever they could for the journey, in the event that they would have to suffer a while; the elderly sat stonily, and smiled, taking stock of their lives in considering their fate; others by contrast – especially the young, paced back and forth like caged animals, and the entire accursed ghetto is surrounded with a heavy guard; and there were those that spoiled their money “at least let the remains for the murderers be decreased”: they poured oil on their food; they tore their jackets and clothes and threw them into the toilets.

At 6 o'clock the next morning, they began to organize us – with German thoroughness – men separate and women separate. First in pairs, and then in rows of five, taking the old out from among us (that is to say: those who needed to be conveyed by transport), putting them in lines, counting and enumerating and then repeated the process for long hours without end. Afterwards a long line of hundreds of gentile wagons were drawn up, on which they put the small children and their mothers, and the remainder they put into new rows and counted them again. Then the Germans ordered that the carried packages, that were rolling around in the streets, to be loaded onto the several tens of remaining wagons: walking sticks, pails, platters and pots. With this, the Germans enjoyed toying with us: they chose about ten young people, and forced them to run; beside the gate of the ghetto, stood two bordering rows of SS, that rained murderous blows down on the young Jewish men with rubber truncheons…

The preparations were finally completed at noon, and the procession moved from its place. At the head went the wagons that slithered along like serpents on the narrow road leading to Volkovysk, and after them, the women, five abreast, and to the rear, the men, They were surrounded on all sides by a net of armed SS troops. Tall German officers on bicycles or in cars arrived every minute for the purpose of getting information on the innocent journey of the Jews. They took pictures of us several times (it became known to us, that they subsequently presented these as pictures of captured partisans, or as the Germans were wont to call them – bandits).

Night had fallen by the time we reached Volkovysk after a tiring journey of eight hours. Here we saw that even Volkovysk had been emptied of its Jews. All the houses of the Jews were shut up and locked with locks and bolts. We passed through the entire city, and after passing by the railroad station, we were stopped after the barracks next to a large expanse that was fenced off with a high, double barb-wired fence on all sides – watchtowers, whose searchlights illuminated the entire surrounding (the previous day, they would punish us for every ray of light that shone through a crack in the blinds, a severe punishment for the decree to keep dark; but in the war against the Jews, the situation was different…) And we were again ordered to go back, and we were thrown into the crowded splinter groups of Jews that together with out last contingent, consisted of 20 thousand souls. The entire area was divided into blocks that were individually fenced off. There were from six to eight bunkers in each block, which was still inadequate to hold all the Jews, and so they threw the remaining Jews into large horse stables. The groups from Mosty'-Piesk, like the other final arrivals, got horse stables, of the kind that had three levels in the center. Close to two thousand people were crammed into a stable in the dark, and the screams were awful, the wailing of children looking for their parents, mothers, who with great difficulty, tried to hold onto their children around them, people crawling over each other, looking for a board on which to rest a little, one lost his bundle of food, a second,

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his pack of personal belongings – several hours went by before everyone settled down in some manner. From time to time, one hear the whimpering of a child, the cry of a woman, an old Jew praying out loud, and in the middle of the night, the lights illuminated the shrieks of a woman in labor, who gave birth after several hours to a living Jewish boy, in the presence of the nation and congregation, whom together with [the mother] that bore him was brought to the death penalty…

It was only with the coming of the morning, that we were able to look around, and take stock of our new situation. It became clear that all the Jews of the Volkovysk district had been taken from their homes and bought to this area. This fact became clear in several ways. The fate of Ruzhany was the worst of all; apart from the fact that they had to walk fifty kilometers on foot, they were treated in an exceptionally cruel manner. They separated the mothers from their children, and during the course of the two days of this long walk, they permitted the mothers only one opportunity to go to their children to feed them. Along the way, the Jews were beaten horribly, and a hundred of them that gave out along the way, were killed. In Svislucz, the Commissar decided to play a “game:” From among the Jews that stood in rows in that place, he took out 200 Jews and simply shot every tenth one of them.

The Jews of Volkovysk were ordered to report to the bunkers in a matter of two hours, and in addition to this, they stationed police and SS troops at every corner of the city and at its outskirts, to keep an eye on everybody. The Judenrat was given the following order, that had been issued by the regime in Konigsberg: “It is incumbent on the Jews of Bialystock District to assemble in central bunkers. Every Jew must take sufficient food for 48 hours, and work clothes. Money, jewelry and valuables may be taken without any restriction. The objective is to centralize labor.”

Approximately twenty thousand Jews were divided up according to their place of origin: two blocks (15 bunkers in total) for Volkovysk. However, since each bunker was designated for use by five hundred people, the remaining bunkers were divided up for use by Amstibova and Yalovka. One block (six bunkers) – for Svislucz. Zelva, Piesk and Mosty' – in two large horse stables. A separate block (eight small bunkers with low ceilings) for Ruzhany.

During the first few hours, rumors spread that we had been gathered together to be sent to Bolivia, which was prepared to take us… but that was not the case, Fuchs and Daniel from the Volkovysk Judenrat were called to the Commander of the camp, a lieutenant officer named Tsirka, and they received the following notice: this was a temporary concentration camp; from here, the Jews would be sent in transports of 3000 to a larger Jewish labor camp; this transfer would go on for six weeks; but for the time being, it is necessary to maintain order. Fuchs was appointed as the head, and Daniel his deputy; each bunker was supposed to have its own head, who would be responsible to provide a list of the ‘residents’ within, to look after order and to distribute the food. Each person will receive 170 grams of bread a day, and a bowl of soup; health and hygiene conditions in the camp were to be supervised by medical resources independent of the camp.

On the following day, a committee of senior Gestapo officers came to the camp, and among them there was even a district physician, the head of the city of Volkovysk, Winter. Because of the shortage of water, the head of the city promised to supply water to the Jews with the help of the fire truck, and a small supply of potatoes and groats from the cellars of the Jewish homes was also promised.

The Jews shrugged their shoulders. The pessimists once again argued that our fate was sealed: “They are treating us like fowl that is fed before the slaughter.” However, those who were seized by every spark of hope, ran off to once again build their blooming castles in the air, that everything will end up with us alive…

Of the things that were promised to us, we received a few canisters of whitewash for the toilets, and a few

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boxes with bottles of insecticide for lice. After this, the matter of water was settled. Then the food that the Jews had provided for themselves ran out in a matter of two or three days, and immediately signs of hunger began to appear. In a matter of days, an epidemic of lice started to spread that grew to monumental proportions. It was late in the fall, and the Jews milled about between the bunkers, especially the young people . The elderly and the babies, and the nursing children all lay in exhaustion and hunger on the hard bunks.

The doctors divided the work between themselves, organized a dispensary, and after a fashion, a small ‘hospital,’ for the severely ill. It was only after a time, that the burden of responsibility of the doctors was heavily increased – but we will yet return to this subject.

A more relaxed air began to blow through the camp on the fourth and fifth day. First, they began to take young men out of the camp to do work, but this was a n illusion for the camp for a number of days, and secondly, this created an opportunity to procure foodstuffs. Yet, the hunger increased. And when only the news of a potato transport delivery reached the camp, starving Jews would fall upon the wagons, and everyone wanted to assure getting a couple of potatoes for himself. Immediately gunfire was heard, these being the shots of the German guards into the mass “disturbing the peace,” and the result of this were dead and wounded. Yet the hunger was greater than the fear of the rifle. These wild scenes took place several times a day, when hunger mad it necessary to put one's life in danger for a few frozen potatoes…

At that time, I was transferred from the Mosty' stables to the Volkovysk bunkers, and I worked in the direction of the health services of the camp.

It was still dark outside, but the day had already started inside the camp. The workers were lining up in the yard at an early hour. The women are looking for ways to warm up a little water for the children. A great deal of movement is taking place near the toilets. The interior toilet in each bunker was set aside for the use of the elderly and the children only, and whoever could go outside, was not taken into account for purposes of bodily functions… outside., the situation was not any better, bit still it was a large facility, with room for twenty people. Two rows, one for men and one for women were created; after each group of men went in, the women went in, and anyone, who, God forbid, had to go back. A young man interjects to the women: “Come in, ladies, together with the men, don't be ashamed, they are going to throw us all into the same grave…”

In the bunkers, everybody develops a routine after the night's sleep. After that, one goes, one to bring water, and another to stand on line for the spoiled bread. In one of the bunkers, several tens of Jews gather for group prayer: the Rabbis have decreed a community-wide fast: the Selikhot prayers are recited, everyone prays with fervor, reciting Avinu Malkeinu, a line at a time. “Send us salvation speedily…” – the leader of the prayers weeps out loud, and the congregants respond. When they reach the phrase, “Do this for those who suckle at the breast,” and “For the sake of the babes of the house of your people,” – the cries penetrate the very heart of heaven. Jews stand this way, crowded and pressed together, standing in mud, in the half darkness, some in a prayer shawl, some wearing phylacteries – if he had only been concerned enough to take them at the last minute – and some without these, agonizing within himself, and from their very depths, and with their last energies, knock on the Gates of Mercy…

Tsirka visits the bunkers several times a day. A silent murderer, slow, cunning and cynical. He takes an interest as if all are patients, in their care, and promises that in the new camp, conditions will be better…

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Towards evening, the workers return. One carries a piece of wood, there will be one who happened to get a hold of some onions or beets, and even someone who managed to obtain a piece of bread from a peasant. Immediately with the darkness, they all enter the bunkers. Everyone lights his lantern according to his capacity to do so; one might have an oil lamp, another got clever, and used one of the jars of insecticide (a petroleum derivative), as a source of fuel. Everyone is crawling over the bunks, and after a period of time, each person arranged themselves for the remainder of the night, by sleeping on their side (there is no room for anything else). A Jew in the corner recited the Psalms by a flickering light, a second person recites the Shema out loud. A Jewish woman talked to herself incessantly. A suffering young woman rocks her frail, sick infant in her arms – this is the third straight day without stop – that she wails in a shattering and heart-rending manner: “…I want to go home…” Others haven't finished lice removal. A sick person, short of breath, and breathing with difficulty, moans, and cannot find room for his ailing person.

When I wake up in the middle of the night, I have the impression that the picture hasn't changed at all. The sound of the bunker hasn't changed, as if frozen in place: one can still hear the anonymous sound of the Shema; the [other] Jew continues to go through the verses of the Psalms; the groans of the sick Jew still continue, and the shrunken and heroic mother, still rocks the baby and hums the tune to the same song: “I want to go home…”

A new thing happened on November 11: the camp was closed up, and not a person went to work. And once again, one explanation chased after another. There were those who immediately connected this with some major political event (the most favorable assessment of this): they spoke of a German surrender(!), a Polish rebellion, and similar things. On the other side, the fear of a liquidation already hung in the air. After several hours, a committee arrived for the purpose of investigating the sanitary conditions in the camp. This was specifically related to the problem of lice. Three senior Gestapo officials, of esteemed rank – very well dressed, well fattened – came into the filthy rotten bunkers, and without hiding their revulsion for the ‘filthy Jews,’ looked at two or three individuals, and that ended the tour: the camp was infested with lice – was the outcome of the matter – and it was then necessary to put it under quarantine.

Later, it became clear that some of the soldiers in the camp fell sick, and they suspected that it was typhus, and it was a stroke of luck that a number of them got well in a few days, and the suspicion about the camp of the Jews was dropped.

Sioma Gallin was the one who ran the kitchen in the camp, a well-known and popular personality in Volkovysk. Alert, exuding vitality, and never losing his optimistic conviction that ‘we will yet bury them’ – his favorite expression. When he got water once from the fire truck, he engaged the driver in conversation (a local Christian), and that person gave him a little bit of kerosene for the oven. However, the men of the Gestapo guard perceived this, they rushed to Gallin, knocked him to the ground, and rained so many blows on him with their rubber truncheons, that he had no more strength left with which to scream. When his was bleeding and swollen, they carried him to the bunker. At nightfall, the cold predator, Tsirka, came to the bunker and asked with warm concern about Gallin's condition, and ordered the doctors not to leave him, “God Forbid.”

I visited him at nine in the evening. He lay suffering, breathing heavily, and saying a few words with great difficulty.

At eleven o'clock at night, the bunker was startled by the savage cries of Germans, who were at the entrance to the bunker: “Gallin, Raus! Gallin, Raus!” A Jewish policeman from the internal guard ran to Gallin, and

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relayed to him that the Germans were demanding that he go outside immediately. Everyone raised themselves from their places, and a deathly silence reigned in the bunker. One could hear how Gallin was struggling to move his beaten body off the bunk. 500 eyes were glued to him. When he was beside the exit, he turned about and in a braking voice, with all his strength he said: “Peace be unto you, my fellow Jews!”and he vanished into the darkness. Immediately the sound of blows were heard, mixed with the last cries of the victim. Suddenly three shot cut through the air – and then all was silent. Only a heart-rending scream from Gallin's wife inside the bunker, served as a sign that Gallin was no longer alive; a form of death certificate…

The following morning, on arising, his sanctified body was found beside the entrance, the tortured body of the eternal optimist…

For almost three weeks we did not know for what purpose we were being kept here. Tsirka spoke about the difficulties of transfer. In the meantime, they once again began to take out small groups of younger people to go to work. The local Christians took advantage of the opportunity to skin the Jews for a piece of bread, and the Jews would barter away gold coins for a little bit of bread, rings, or money. Despite this, there was hunger in the camp. The question of wood to keep warm was also a difficult one, and many were beaten – even shot – for several pieces of board from some fence, somewhere.

Until one of the late afternoon hours, an order arrived that at two o'clock in the morning, all the people from Ruzhany should be prepared to travel. Along with this, it was required to compile a precise list with family name, age and occupation (according to the order).

In comparison to the Volkovysk Jews, the Jews of Ruzhany got the low end. The block of eight small bunkers (one third the height of the Volkovysk bunkers); these were called the “Ruzhany” Bunkers. No doubt that the Jews of Ruzhany had the worst conditions. These two thousand Jews, with this terrible overcrowding, could not cram themselves into these bunks of Sodom, and hundreds of them were forced to live in the street (in the meantime, freezing days had arrived, along with some snowfall). If the death rate in the camp was high, especially among the elderly, it was particularly great among those from Ruzhany. There were days when the number of dead ran to twenty. The number of the sick was even greater there. They were also the first to go…

On the following morning, the Ruzhany block was empty, and the entrance locked. Only by the third day, were some young people taken there for purposes of “cleaning up” the block. Among the bundles, rags, and various utensils, there were also found several tens of coagulated corpses of sick and weak people, who were unable on that [previous] night to partake in the walk, and remained behind on the hands of the Germans in their quiet death throes, and when not one of them remained alive, the Germans ordered the block to be cleaned…

These dead – like all the others – were taken out under German guard to beyond the fence, and buried there.

The second transport came three days later, and this was the turn of Zelva. This was the only transport that left during the daytime. In the space between the Volkovysk blocks (each one of them was fenced off with barbed wire) rows of four abreast of the Jews of Zelva and the vicinity were formed up. In the midst of mud, snow and rain, they stood there for several hours, covered in mud and exhausted, even before they could begin their journey. Almost all the residents of the Volkovysk bunkers gathered at the barbed wire fences.

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It is hard to guess what thoughts were going through the minds of the people in these two groups. It is possible that the people of Zelva envied the people of Volkovysk, that they are yet remaining behind, although for a brief time yet; and – who knows – every day is an achievement. It is possible that the people of Volkovysk saw themselves in a mirror of their own very near future. And yet perhaps – since someone is saying Sholom Aleichem somewhere – they weren't thinking at all.

In the meantime, the idea occurred to one of the Volkovysk people “the lucky ones,” to give something, to those who were going, through the barbed wire. This suddenly became something for everyone to do: in one move, hundreds of people started to give something or another through the barbed wire to the Zelva people, who pressed against the fence by the hundreds, in order to receive a farewell gift. Agonized and shrunken hands by the hundreds, were pushed through the barbed wire, and everyone grabbed whatever came to hand: for one a piece of stale bread, for another a potato, a crumb or an onion. Being driven in to the hands of the prevailing hunger, and the great fear was more for the hunger of the next day, they cut their hands and wounded themselves to the point of bleeding, and because of this, the gifts so given were mixed with blood….

A shout from the Germans put an end to this “farewell party,” and the Zelva Jews dragged their tired bodies in the same direction that the Ruzhany Jews had gone a few days earlier…

A little at a time, the bunkers and the stables of Porozovo, Mosty', Piesk, Yalovka and Amstibova were emptied out. At intervals of 3-7 days, thousands of Jews were taken out at night, and after several days, those who were left behind, “cleaned out” the vacated places, gathering up rags, broken pots, and coagulated bodies of those who died silently.

By the end of November 1942,[only] the Jews of Volkovysk and Svislucz remained. At the end of the month, another transport of several thousand Jews of Svislucz was driven away, along with two bunkers (approximately 1000 people), of people from Volkovysk. At the beginning of December there were still 5000 Jews in the camp, and 1000 Jews from Svislucz among them.

Towards the end of November, Noah Fuchs fell ill with a serious lung inflammation. The camp commandant Tsirka, came to ask about him a number of times (the members of the Judenrat lived in a wooden bunker).

After such a visit, Tsirka let the doctors know in his usual cold and serious fashion, that “Fuchs must get well.” An important position awaits him, and he had it in mind to appoint him as a camp commandant in the new Jewish camp of 70,000 Jews.

And to where did all these transports go? This question dis not stop nagging everybody. The Judenrat made an effort to get in touch with the employees of the Polish railroad. At first it became clarified that the direction of the transport was – to the west, and then afterwards north to the stations of : Bialystock, Malkin, and at the end, Treblinka. Our understanding about this extermination camp were not yet clear, but one thing we already understood: “All who arrive there will not return…”

Meanwhile, news arrived at the beginning of December that had the effect of a spark in a can of gunpowder. A group of workers from the bunkers worked in Petroshovitsa (a few kilometers from Volkovysk), and they were building a “Pithom and Rameses.^[3]” Fuchs and Daniel had gone several times to the German supervisors

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of the work in Petroshovitsa, on the hopes that together, they could influence the central command not to liquidate the bunkers according to schedule, but to leave a detail of 1700 able-bodied young people, until the scheduled time of – August 1943. After additional negotiation, they succeeded in convincing them that there should be about 100 women among the 1700. They achieved nothing in connection with children. Immediately afterwards, Svislucz succeeded in securing several hundred places among the 1700 designated ones. However, there was much thought given over to this matter. However, the consideration of cases grew without bounds after people started to pay attention to the matter, when it was determined that the list of the 1700 young people (among them 250 from Svislucz) was to be compiled by the Judenrat. That is to say, the selection had to be done by the Jews themselves. There is no need to describe the chaos of those days. A war of life and death broke out (according to the bare and simple meaning of this phrase). On one side was Treblinka, which made it seem – that to stay in this wretched for another six months: the bunkers looked like paradise, six months – like an eternity. For a few days, hundreds and hundreds of people descended on the bunker of the Judenrat, each one asking for a favor for themselves, and afterwards, for their wife, a child, brother, sister. Fuchs and Daniel wrote things down, and then erased them. And then they wrote again and erased again: and it seemed they finally completed the list; then, on the morrow, came yet additional modifications, and so forth, without end. Here, an individual would succeed, after a tremendous effort, to be put on the list, and tomorrow he would refuse to go, because no place was allocated for his wife; one would go to bed, satisfied in the knowledge that he was to remain behind, and on the following day, found out that he was erased from the list. Somebody more important that him had ben found. Blood relations, friendship, pleading, carrying on, screaming, crying – all of these were employed in the war to be able to remain in the bunkers. In this maelstrom of hope and fear, Tsirka walked about like an indifferent observer on the side, and from time to time, he would inquire whether the list had been completed.

On the seventh day, we were notified that all those selected were to go over from the Volkovysk bunkers to the Ruzhany bunkers. Along with this, groups at a time would also exit by way of the gate, under the watch of the Gestapo, and the Jewish organizers of the arrangement. Along with this, those going to the Ruzhany bunkers were searched incessantly, and many of the “illegals” were driven back after every search. People ran about, and back and forth as if they were crazy, trying by any means to gain entrance to the Ruzhany bunkers, the place for uplifting of their souls. Those that had children, gave them a quarter dose of Luminal and carried them while they were asleep, in sacks on their shoulders, and while still in the sacks, put them to bed on new bunks. The short December day went, and when evening fell, Tsirka came to the Ruzhany bunkers with two assistants in order to carry out the final count. The children were once again given Luminal powder, and hidden in sacks among the bundles. Several tens of “illegal” adults hid themselves in the mud, under the bottom bunks, and the remainder went outside, stood in front of the bunkers in rows of five abreast, and awaited the investigation. A vehicle immediately reached the place of the bunkers, that stood opposite the Jews, and with two searchlights, they illuminated the two groups of the “selected ones,” one who might have been separated form a relative, from a father, mother, brother, and sister, who were not given the privilege of being counted in the 1700. The dark of the night was cut by the lights from the bus, and the compressed snow in its tire tracks, and that didn't stop falling into any opening, small or large.

The Gestapo men with rubber truncheons in their hands passed by the groups, and went to eat their dinner, leaving the designated investigation for afterwards. At this time there were groups of two hundred. The silence of frightened people pervaded the block. There were those who listened with a fluttering heart to determine if the effect of the Luminal might not have stopped working on the children, and there were others whose thoughts were with their relatives who had remained in the Volkovysk bunkers. The snow fell endlessly, and without end, since the objective had been delayed until Tsirka finished his evening meal. Only after two hours did the officials return, one went through the bunkers, and two counted each of the groups, that were then driven with rubber truncheons into the bunkers. After running the totals, and adding in the members of the Jewish police and the Judenrat, who had not yet arrived, Tsirka proclaimed that the count

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was “in order,” and left to dispatch the others. At tow o'clock in the morning, the members of the Jewish police and the Judenrat joined us, and with this, the selection was complete…

On the morning of December 8, a new and final period began in the camp. Out of twenty thousand Jews who had been here only a few months ago, only a little more than 1700 remained, who began to get themselves settled all over again. One of the former Volkovysk blocks was designated for the use of these remaining people, with eight bunkers and one building of wood. The transfer protocol was very slow, and took a week's time. First, a German exterminator treated the eight bunkers, and afterwards, a few solitary groups were brought over from the Ruzhany bunkers to the bath house, and from the bath house to the bunkers that had been disinfected. This was the way they wanted to get rid of the lice.

I was among the first group to return to the Volkovysk bunkers. An awful sight was revealed to me: upon entry into the block, next to the Judenrat building, a pile of corpses had been dumped in a mound, one on top of the other, heads leaking blood, arms and legs sticking out, half naked and contorted – who had been killed in the final liquidation: inside the bunkers – bags, dresses, bedding, utensils – all scattered and mixed together. On many of these things, there were bloodstains; between the bunkers, an elderly woman ran about, gray-haired and exclaiming out loud: why did they not also take me? She ran to each of us and begged us to turn her over to the Germans so they would shoot her; all the bunkers were empty of people. Only in Bunker number 3, were we surprised to find a large number (over 70) old and sick people incapable of being transported. The larger part of them were already frozen; their eyes were fixed on one point, as if they no longer had any minds; others did not stop talking to themselves softly; others of them began to move a lot, upon seeing new people, begging for bread and water. Among the elderly was also a young man, about thirty years old, who was an amputee, who moved himself about with the help of his arms; a solitary, sick young girl, age 16, screamed without stopping, “Water, water,” even when they brought her something. About seventy Jews, who had been brought together from all the bunkers, not even worthy of Treblinka, were tossed into their own filth and that of others at that time.

After a few days, Tsirka summoned two doctors and demanded that they poison the “Third Bunker.” “After all, you do know,” – he said – “it is possible to kill them with machine guns very quickly, but to what end must we create a tumult like that…” the doctors refused to do this. “Well, we have some more time” – the cold, cynical wretch smiled, and let the doctors go.

In the meantime, the exterminator and his assistant processed one bunker after another, and more and more of the people were transferred over to their old-new locations. Before nightfall, they would seal the windows, doors and transoms, and in the corners of the bunker they would place two dishes of burning sulfur, they would burn them until the following morning, and then open up the bunker again, and on this basis, it was supposed to be rid of insects.

They carried out almost exactly the same procedure on Bunker Number 3, late one night, when all of the [other] bunkers were already asleep, and exactly after they had set the dished of sulfur aflame, they closed the doors tightly, leaving the seventy souls inside the bunker. What took place in the bunker on that night, is known only to those unfortunate victims. We were able to get an idea of what had transpired, on the following day, when the bunker was opened once again, and we learned of what had taken place here. The bunker was suffused with the familiar odor of sulfur. The first part of the dead were arrayed about in various postures of grimace and contortion. The terrible suffering was etched on their faces; a few were still hanging on with the last of their energies; the sick girl continued to groan “water, water,” almost inaudibly; the young amputee was head down into the plate, with his legless body up in the air; it was he who tried to stop the flow of the burning gas with his body. In this fashion, seventy Jews were wiped out by excruciating torture, with a gas that could kill lice and bugs only with great difficulty after 12 hours.

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Tsirka celebrated his victory: he didn't have to rely on the assistance of a noisy machine gun…

After several days, the period of the transfer was finished, the Gestapo guard was removed, Tsirka left. The camp was turned over to the Wehrmacht and the surveillance over the 1700 Jews who were privileged to be saved from the fate of the prior 18,000 went over to the hands of the [regular army] soldiers.

With each daybreak, the soldiers would come to take the men out to work. The Judenrat would remain in the camp, the Jewish police (about twenty people), the group of doctors, the kitchen workers, and the monitors in the bunkers. The food improved from this point forward, but the actual rations remained the same as before, but the members of the Judenrat had the privilege of movement about the city, and would buy bread from the Polish bakers, and the guard that accompanied them to bring bread was bribed, and turned a blind eye to the “dealings” of the Jews. The winter was already at its most intense, and the cold left its marks. The worst problem was a lack of shoes. The Judenrat arranged for a shoemaking operation, which provided some minimal relief from the shortage of shoes. In general, there was a feeling of improved circumstances, not heretofore found, in the new conditions; Jews installed iron stoves against which they could warm themselves, and cook something or another. The kitchen distributed warm weather twice daily; warm soup was provided at noon. However, without much delay, illness began to spread. First, dysentery; people would lose their strength from this, and could only stand on their legs with great difficulty. Immediately after this came the spotted typhus. The bunkers were infested with lice, and no amount of disinfecting helped, or any other remedy. The epidemic of the lice reached unbearable heights, and the result was not long in coming. It is enough to say that in the middle of January, examinations were held – before the illness or afterwards – of over 800 people. This was a special chapter that needs its own explanation. From 30 to 40 percent of the [allegedly] able-bodied workers were sick with this disease, and since it was forbidden to let the Germans find out, they didn't know. The dedication and commitment of the doctors and nurses is noted, who were infected first because of this (let the enormous work and the dedication of the doctors be recalled here: Yitzhak Resnick, Eliezer Epstein, Marek Kaplan, Joseph Wallach, and others). The organization of three bunkers as hospitals, disinfection processes, the provision of required medication, the concealment over in the second side of the camp, the minimal death rate thanks to all this – a major chapter, in the story of the Volkovysk bunkers, which demands a special record.

In one of the bunkers, there was found a group of 150 young men from the small town of Kamenitz^[4]. During the summer season, they had been brought to Volkovysk to work, and ended up here on November 2 in their present condition. Their condition was far worse. They suffered from hunger and frost more than others. Many of them became swollen with hunger and were frozen to death. Only with our involvement did the Judenrat begin to give them personal attention. However, they were not helped much by this, and incidents of death were a daily occurrence.

The principal characteristic of that period was taking care of personal needs. The Jews got used to the idea that the camp was something permanent, and because of this, they tried with all their might to last out the winter. The hope was that spring should only arrive. As to what might happen when the spring arrived, not a person gave any thought to. But a spark of hope was thought of in connection with that event…

There were even arbitration sessions conducted by the Judenrat: here was a ruling about a young fellow age 16 with an older man concerning a piece of material goods. Both of them present their arguments to Fuchs

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and Daniel. Thought expressed such as: this was abandoned property, in the public domain – as if this were a Torah ruling. Another couple came to the court over a dispute about a watch. The judgement was supported by the Jewish police.

Six months went by against the count of “The First of August.” The doctors estimated that the spotted typhus epidemic (the epidemic was the central concern; in addition to illness, there was the hunger – under the best of circumstances, there was recognizably poor sustenance – the cold, and the hard labor out in the cold, among the minor issues) had reached its peak. According to the prevailing thought, the epidemic was to have run its course by the end of November. Suddenly, an end came to all the hopes and ideas. On January 23, 1943 it appears that our distinguished friend Tsirka had been in the camp. Even before we were told the purpose of his visit, a tumult reigned in the camp. The news of Tsirka's arrival flew with lightning speed from bunker to bunker, and everyone instinctively felt that danger hovered in the air, the Angel of Death had come to the city…

He entered the Judenrat, and advised that all the initially transported people were settled. It was now our turn. Nevertheless – he added – it was difficult for them, but for us it would be much easier… He did not know the exact schedule of the trip. At this time, he demanded only two people to assist him in compiling a list of all the people in the camp, and a typewriter (according to the order: family name, age, occupation, as was the usual…)

The tumult increased from minute to minute. On the 25^th of the month he notified that the transport will depart of the evening of the 26^th. The news reached even the several hundred sick, who were lying in the three hospital bunkers (one bunker, and two wooden buildings). People began to dash about the area of the block, looking for some escape, but in vain. The sick, who obtained a place in the hospital only with great difficulty, summoned strength within themselves as if with a magician's wand. With temperatures of 40°C [104°F], almost delirious, they left their mattresses, wandered between the bunkers, as if they wanted to demonstrate that they had the strength, out of fear that as sick people, they would be killed on the spot. The majority, despondent and oppressed, prepared themselves for the journey, attempting to provision themselves with an extra piece of bread or another bundle.

In speaking about the last 24 hours of the bunkers, it is my wish to also dedicate a few words to the question of “Bialystock.” From the time of November 23, 1942, when twenty thousand Jews were suddenly dropped, denigrated and suffering, into the most difficult and inhuman conditions, Bialystock, or more appropriately, Ghetto Bialystock, the acme of everyone's dreams, the Fata Morgana of everyone, because there still – so to speak – one could seek refuge for oneself. The news that arrived by circuitous routs from there, told of ordinary living in houses, about sleep in beds, about enough to eat one's fill, on organized work, and most importantly – the strong position enjoyed by the Jews of Bialystock that worked in the factories, whose perception led them to believe there was no danger. And indeed, during the first several weeks, it became possible for several tens of people to get to Bialystock; by themselves, by bribing Germans, as was the case of Smazanovich of Volkovysk, Dr. Meisel from Svislucz; Engineer Barash was able to bring a number of families over in a unique fashion, the Head of the Bialystock Judenrat, his relatives and Zionist workers: his brothers, Sonya Botvinsky, Messrs. Peisik and Berman, Shipiatsky, the widow of the Lawyer, Eliezer Bliakher and her son, etc. Even during the period of the 1700, there were those who sought means to get to Bialystock. However, in this instance, the Judenrat opposed them, who by virtue of their designated Jewish police, found out about these suspicions to leave, about which they were not aware. Prior incidents of attempted escape caused the Judenrat to look upon such attempts with severity. The leadership of the Judenrat took the position that it was people with money that were most desired to try to escape, and that this money could help to extend the time that the camp would continue to operate.

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On the evening of January 25^th, when it became known that the camp would be liquidated the following day, a great deal of movement was perceived among the families of the Judenrat members in the wooden bunker. The women began to pack bags – they dressed the children warmly. The guards picked up the activity, and they surrounded the wooden bunker, and after an exchange of sharp words, it became clear that the members of the Judenrat wanted to send their families to Bialystock, the head of the Jewish police simply advised that not a person was to leave the building, because in any event, nobody will get out of there. They deduced from this, that during all the time that others were being watched in case they attempted to escape, that this weaponry was now being turned back on those that used it.

The Judenrat and their family members spent the night under house arrest; “Authority” was transferred to the Jewish police. Characteristic Jewish humor surfaced even here: the fate of the government, the army has taken over the rule (a hint to an illusion that this might be the way it'll end with the Germans).

On January 23^rd at three in the afternoon, my friend and companion, Dr. Resnick and I left the camp. Several hours before the liquidation, we managed to flee the camp in the company of a group of workers, and along the way, to run away from the German guard. To this day, I can see the camp as I left it. The wooden bunker of the Judenrat, full of people going back and forth, as if by listening ‘at the transoms’ they would find out something new; the block completely crowded with people, running from one to the other; the sick, wrapped in bandages, eyes fevered from the temperature, walking around like wraiths in an illusory world; slowly, slowly, walking like infants, they seem to try to accustom themselves to moving about; those that have recently recovered, walking around on their coagulated legs, waving their arms in the air as if looking for a point of support; in the hospital lay that part of the sick that cannot move; and others of them – quiet, resigned, as if they were already in another world. Among them, nervous types, angered ones, wailing and crying; In the ‘regular bunkers,’ – a tapestry of people who feel the sentence of death on their skin; women making the final preparations, packing up their baggage as best they can; all gripped by fear, with no options; an admixture of anger and despair – and outside, a freezing cold of 25°F, with wind and snow enveloping everything…

Eighteen thousand Jews from Volkovysk were exterminated in Treblinka. From what is known to me, there is nothing comparable to the suffering of Treblinka. The last 1700 were taken to Auschwitz – but on the transport of suffering and the experience of Auschwitz, this will be revealed by those solitary [survivors] that were tried in this Hell and by some stroke of luck, were not incinerated.

A small addendum at the end: What has been said above does not constitute a history of this period of Volkovysk, and there was no intent to make it so. These are only a few scratches, and portraits of what I underwent, and suffered from everything suffered by the enormous sacrifices that were torn from me, and they were very enormous…

The Fire House in Volkovysk

1. It is not evident if this refers to Krzemienica. Return
2. A biblical allusion to the cities built by the Hebrew slaves for Pharaoh in Egypt, i.e. a major construction project. Return
3. An historical allusion to the Ten Martyrs of the Princes and Scholars of Israel killed by the Romans, whose martyrdom is recollected during the Musaf Yom Kippur service. Return
4. A biblical allusion to the observation of Jacob, during the onset of the seven years of famine, leading to a plan to have his sons travel to Egypt to purchase grain. See Genesis 42:1-3 Return

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I have nothing to be proud of: I didn't do great things, or bring forth creations, no acts of heroism; – this is how our scion of Volkovysk began his story.

My wife and I were saved from death by miracles, because of a variety of circumstances, or more appropriately – we survived because of Providence!

My family is, after all, known to all of you: My father's name was Moshe-Alter Kushnir; in the city, we were nicknamed the ‘shinglers’ (kakhelnikehs), because of the shingle factory that we had. We were a prolific Hassidic family that was quiet and worked hard; but what's the use of dwelling on this; their fate was the same as the fate of all the Jews of Volkovysk, and it is a pity over our unforgettable losses.

I remained one of eight children, now 35 years old, I completed a course of study for pharmacy at the Warsaw University, and I worked in Kurlandsky's Pharmacy on the Wide Boulevard. In 1934, I moved to Krinki, and there, I married into the Zelkind family, and I remained there. I was in that city when the war broke out.

Krinki was always a city of hard workers, of leather factories, with a revolutionary spirit. Even back in the days of [Czar] Nicholas, Krinki distinguished itself in its battles with the Cossacks and the Czarist police. They were forced to maintain a detail of Cossacks in Krinki to maintain order. Krinki once made its own holiday, and carried out a ‘Krinkist’ socialist revolution, taking control of the newspaper, the telegraph, threw the mayor (Пристав) in jail, tied up the village policeman (Урядник) and threw him into a pig sty. The famous revolutionary, Sikarsky who engaged in a life of rebellion, was a tanner from Krinki. And when they heard that the Red Army had crossed the border, the workers of Krinki did not hesitate, and immediately took control of the government, and while the Polish police were still in the city, the Red Flag already flew over the town of Krinki.

When the Soviets came into the city, there was great joy, and the Jews were fortunate, and even the sworn enemies of the communists – the wealthy, and the factory owners were content: to them, the essence of the matter was that a death sentence – the entry of the Germans – had been exchanged for life imprisonment. I worked in Zhokovitsky's pharmacy, a collective appointed me as the head of the pharmacy, and my boss – as my employee. At my effort, permission was granted for him to live in his house, where the pharmacy was located. A Soviet way of life began, and apart from the very wealthy, who were arrested and exiled to Siberia, the Jewish population was treated decently. They lived, worked, and waited for better times to arrive. They hoped – and their hope was realized – when on June 22, German airplanes appeared that began to bomb the city. Handbills were dropped from the planes, telling the population to go out into the fields, and put white handkerchiefs on their heads. The people went out into the fields, and sat there until June 28, six whole days – until a few planes started to fly in low, and as soon as they saw Jews, they gave a sign, and opened with cannon fire. Many Jews were killed, including my boss, along with his two daughters, who were remarkably beautiful.

The Germans had just but arrived in the city, and there was an immediate change to the relations between the Christians and the Jews. In this place, during the period of the Bolsheviks, relations were literally ideal, but now the Christians began to reveal the hatred and wrath they felt towards the Jews. They began to

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inform on the Jews and to pursue them, helping with their capture and imprisonment, using the excuse that they were communists, and they were taken out for execution. The well-known decrees were issued, concerning the wearing of a yellow badge, being forbidden to address a Christian, to conduct commerce, to own a horse or a cow; apart from the murder of a Jew, which was necessary to them, the most severe punishment was a fine of five marks. I also put on the yellow badge, and remained at work in the pharmacy; there was no other pharmacist. I stood in my white overcoat, a yellow badge on the front and the back – and I prepared medicines. My profession saved me, and relatively speaking I was not bad off. I even was able to bring a brother and a sister-in-law from Volkovysk, to work with me in the pharmacy, and they stayed with me for about a year.

On December 13, 1941, they created a ghetto. They fenced off a quarter with barbed wire, and drove all the Jews into it. As it happened, the gate of the ghetto went through the yard of my pharmacy. This coincidence had great significance afterwards. Since it was not possible to bring anything in through the ghetto gate, the Jews who were taken to do work, and managed to get a hold of some food outside the ghetto walls – used to drop it off at the pharmacy, and we would throw the food over the fence into the ghetto. Meanwhile a typhus epidemic broke out in the ghetto. The overcrowding was unbearable. In addition, they drove the Jews of Berestovitz into the ghetto, and the overcrowding became even more difficult. I set up a pharmacy inside the ghetto, and upon my arrival there in the evening, I would sit and prepare medicines. But my Commissar did not rest and was not silent; he wanted to get rid of me at all times. And looked for someone to replace me. In the fullness of time, he was able to find a Polish professor of Agronomy, from the University of Vienna, who according to what he said, had an uncle who was a pharmacist, and was acquainted with the preparation of medicaments. The truth was, that this professor knew about as much about preparing medicine as a rooster can pass himself of as a human being. And even he made an effort to get me back to the pharmacy. Up till this point, life in the ghetto went along under the fear of death and nightmares. Rumors circulated about massacres in other cities. They told of ‘actions’ against children, ‘actions’ against the elderly in Lithuania and other places. On November 1, 1942, rumors spread throughout the ghetto, that ‘something’ was going to happen. What a tumult. When I returned home that evening, I found everyone possessed by confusion. The Jewish police of the ghetto had found out from the Polish auxiliary police that something was supposed to take place in the ghetto tomorrow. The members of the family implored me to return to the pharmacy. My mother promised me to watch the little boy – he had a good hiding place. Because I did not want to go alone, my wife was persuaded to accompany me, in the sure knowledge that she was leaving the boy in safe hands (the boy was 2 ½ years old). At night, both of us left the room, we threw a path across the barbed wire, consisting of rags; first I went over the fence, and afterwards, I helped my wife over; I entered the pharmacy, and we went up to the attic. We slept this way for the entire night. At six in the morning, we heard a loud commotion in the ghetto, wild screams, wailing and shooting. Afterwards, the sound of a whole camp of wagons reached our ears. We did not know what was happening. The pharmacy was not opened. Only at ten o'clock did I hear people milling about at the pharmacy. I came down very slowly, and peeked through a crack in the rear door into the pharmacy. The woman Christian assistant who worked in the pharmacy sensed my presence and came over to me. – send me the professor, I asked her; the professor came out, and when he saw me, he spread out his hands – Good sir, what are you doing here? They have taken all of them away, and not one of them remains. – My dear professor – I say to him – relax, we will leave this night, we will not stay here. I asked only one thing of you, that you take pity on me, please go to the ghetto and look around and see what has happened to our family! – I have no need to go – the professor replied, there isn't even a trace of anyone left. Please try to leave tonight, because I am trembling!

I returned to the attic , and remained there for the entire day, and with nightfall, when the professor left the pharmacy, I went back down there, and took with me doses of poison that would be sufficient for the both of us, and returned back up with the thought , that in the morning, before the arrival of the professor, we would settle the matter… however, upon arising, when dawn broke, we heard a cry and a wail: I had the

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thought, could this perhaps be my son?!… We were taken aback; the implication of this fact was, were there still Jews in the town? I came down from the attic, and saw a Jew, named Joseph Holtz – a member of the Judenrat – running back and forth, with clenched hands, looking for the members of his family that had vanished. It became evident, that he and 240 people were left behind; 150 men to work in the leather factory, and ninety to clean out the ghetto. As to the rest of the people, they were beaten bloody, killed and driven out in the space of three quarters of an hour. The children were dragged and thrown onto wagons, and sent away. Within an hour, there was not a living soul left inside the ghetto. This was a pogrom conducted at lightning speed, in order that no person have a chance to save himself, since nobody had any idea as to what was happening. I called up to my wife to come down from the attic; the barbed wire was broken in many places from the intensity of upset, and the power of the movement that took place there – and with quick steps we turned and moved, entered the ghetto, and mixed in with the people who were gathered together there. How is it possible to describe the picture of what lay before us in the ghetto? Doors and gates left wide open, electric lights on; here a pot of food, half cooked; there a sewing machine; shirts that had not been completely sewn; the dough for a loaf of bread that had just begun to be kneaded, with three hand prints visible in it; a grater – a potato that had not been completely grated, a prayer book opened to the Shemoneh Esrei – at the prayer, VeTekhezena Eineinu (May our eyes behold your return to Zion with mercy…) – A Shemoneh Esrei prayer interrupted in the middle; A prayer shawl and phylacteries, the one for the head all wrapped up, the one for the arm still unraveled; the beds not made… people were driven out of bed, seized from cribs – this was in the morning – Jews getting ready to go on with their lives, the ‘normal’ life of the ghetto.

After several days of work in the factory, I approached the manager, and I presented him with a gift of a set sum of money that I had put aside from my work, and he appointed me as the medic for the camp, and my wife as a nurse, and in this manner, we were temporarily spared. Over time, I became more friendly with the manager, and we were in the habit of bringing him gifts frequently. There were no lack of such gifts. The energy and work [sic: property] of the Jews counted for nothing in the ghetto. It was possible to walk into a house, and take whatever you wanted. If a Christian took a serving dish from the ghetto, he was shot, but they did not bother the Jews. The reason, is they knew that sooner or later, it would all become theirs. It was upsetting and shattering to walk into these dad houses; wild cats would jump from under the pillows of the unmade beds…

And that's how I became a medic. Jews would come to me with their ailments, with wounds – oh, help me! – and I would reply, but you know – I can't – and they would say: do something, operate, what will be will be – but do something! And I must add, success was with me, I operated, I bandaged, I healed, and many illnesses persisted for a long time. I never sterilized a needle, because there was no antiseptic, and there was not a single instance of infection.

On one ‘bright morning,’ one of the auxiliary Polish police came over to me, and said that a peasant wanted to see me. I had no particular will to go out to him, because the peasants were in the habit of coming to buy things from the Jews. They wanted to buy everything that had any value: and overcoat, a jacket, a pair of boots: – for what purpose do you want to hold onto this, since you don't need it anyway. I will pay you, and this will be food for several days; – despite this, I went out, and saw the peasant Pyotr Bigansky before me – the owner of our prior house. – (In the first year of my marriage, I lived in his house). – Panie Kushnir, he said to me, I came to you so that you can provide me with copies of the prescriptions you once gave me!. I looked at him in astonishment: – what medicine did I prepare for you? – I asked in astonishment. When he saw that the policeman was eavesdropping on the conversation, the gentile winked at me – that was the medicine you once gave me for a stomach ache… – oh, I said, that prescription? I took out a piece of paper, I turned to the side, and began to write… listen to me, the peasant said – I heard from reliable sources that during the month of March the Germans are going to retreat, and because of this, I want to take you and your

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wife to me. I have arranged everything for you… – well, I say, and what if they don't retreat, what will happen then? He says, we shall see, I am not a little boy, he continues to plead with me, and then asks whether I can obtain a black jacket for him, a pair of shades and a pair of women's stockings. I complimented him on his good heart, and I told him, good, let us see…

I always thought of my former landlord as being half-crazy. He loved to babble a great deal, and in addition to this he was a nervous man, and irascible. Because of this, I placed no value on his words, and I continued to remain in the camp. Despite this, I managed to get a hold of a black jacket, a pair of shades and stockings, and at an appropriate opportunity, had them sent to his house.

In the meantime, time did its own work. A month had not gone by since I met my landlord, when ‘good news’ began once again to get bruited about in the air, and a tumult arose in the camp.

On January 24^th, they took away the tools from the Jewish workers, and from the surrounding ambience, it was recognized that the last hours are approaching. I went to the manager and put the question right on the line: will anyone remain in the camp after the liquidation, or not? He answered – if anyone remains, you will be among them!.. from this answer, I understood where we stood in the world. The tumult grew and grew, there were mostly young people in the camp, and they had a strong will to live! Young women, full of life, wanted to live! We want life! How does one change into a mouse and hide in a hole in order to survive!… And there were no forests and partisans in our vicinity.

My wife and I secretly told a number of our acquaintances that we had a hideout, but that we no longer had any faith in the person to whom we had to go, and on top of this, we had no money. The people began to talk to us, and to convince us that we had nothing to lose anyway, and strongly demanded that we should go – perhaps we would stay alive, and perhaps we would be saved and be able to tell the world what happened to the Jews of Krinki. – There was one Jew among them, named Wacht, a factory worker, who took it upon himself to get us out of the camp that was encircled by police. After much thought, we decided to undertake this effort, and that night we gathered in a dark corner of the camp. Wacht came to us, and called to the auxiliary policeman standing at the gate, and said: Listen Stashk, I will show you a bunker where a large amount of gold is hidden, and my share is half – but you move away from the gate for a couple of minutes, so that we can go out. The policeman agreed, made believe that he didn't see anything, and we exited the camp.

It was a dark night, and a driving rain was falling to the ground, and we walked through fields, we forded the little river and somehow or another, reached our venerable acquaintance, our former landlord. We entered the room, and my wife went to the window and quietly knocked on it. – who's there? A woman's voice was heard, who's there, but don't come in just now, because I am taking a bath. We went down into the cellar and sat there, full of fear. A great deal of water leaked into this cellar, and because it was a rainy night, the landlord came down into the cellar to bail the water, in order that the potatoes not get soaked… and when he saw us, he became tongue-tied, but immediately said: – it is good that you have come. However, when he lit a match and saw a third person, he grew pale, and balled up his fists – I said only two people, and what was I supposed to do now?! We felt responsible for him, because when Wacht told us he would take us through the gate, he had not indicated his desire to accompany us. And it was only on the way that he said, in any event, I am going with you, and perhaps stay with you. – We began to plead with the landlord, to kiss his hands: If it will be crowded, it is we who will be crowded. Until he finally agreed, and said: what can we do, what will be, will be. He took us into the house, gave us food, and took us back into the cellar. There, under a huge pile of potatoes, a cabinet had been prepared, about a meter and forty long, a meter wide, and a meter high. We would get into the cabinet through a small rectangular window, which was then covered by boards, and potatoes spread over them, that is to say, space for two people with their legs drawn up.

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However, as it happened, we were three, and so we arranged that one of us would have to stand inside the cabinet. He brought is into the cabinet, covered us in potatoes, closed up the cellar. And…for days at a time, we didn't see a living soul. We sat, faint from hunger, not knowing where we were in the world. It was only at night that we heard a scraping sound. The landlord came, and explained that he hadn't brought food because he was very busy, he had a holiday, slaughtering a pig…he brought us into the house, and gave us from the slaughtered pig to eat, and told us about our daily routine: it was our responsibility to follow everything he said, not to ask questions, and not to speak at any length. His words were sacrosanct: there was nothing to worry about, he would take care of our concerns. We are to be careful with noise and movement, because we are surrounded by enemies on all sides. In particular his brothers, mortal enemies, and yet they frequently came to take their foodstuffs from the cellar. Every two weeks he would take us out of the cellar for purposes of taking a bath. He would bring us food each evening. When he would come to get potatoes for the cattle, he would take away the waste…

In this manner, our lives in the grave of the potato cellar began: we could not tell the difference between night and day, and we lost all sense of time; when the landlord came to us, we would ask him – Panie gospodzha, what is it now, day or night? In general, he was not in the habit of replying, and did not like to talk to us… every day, at the appointed hour, the window would suddenly open, a pot full of cooked food would be lowered in, and again covered in potatoes. This act was accomplished in the blink of an eye.

It was a big event for us the night we came out to bathe, once in two weeks: at evening time yet, the gentile would run all over the yard, looking in his brothers' windows, neighbors, checking to see that they were all home, or if one or another of them still has to arrive. And when he was finished reconnoitering the area, and was sure that everything was in order, he would give a signal with the word, Jusz! (Now!). Then we would speedily come out of the cellar and into the house. The room was already shut and locked, and the windows covered, the doors locked, and then we would bathe. The lady of the house, not a ‘corpse,’ but an angel, alert and generous in heart without measure, would prepare a meal for us. We would bathe, eat and grab a nap for a few hours in their beds. Oh! How lucky we were to stretch out our legs in a bed meant for a human being. During that time, the landlord sat and whittled, and he would sit with us and discuss ideas: when the war is over, we will all travel far, far away to a new village, and we will live there in each other's company, go to church together, and everything will be good… he was a very religious Catholic, and wanted us to convert, but nevertheless, when he heard a sermon by a priest in church that ‘we’ should be grateful to the ‘Lord Jesus’ that we got rid of the Jewish problem, he felt a great wound in his soul, and he stopped going to church. – this was not a priest to him, but some scum of a man, who could go to hell… this was how he expressed himself with the most severe of tongue-lashings, towards his priest. But a long time did not go by, and we were forced to give up our bathing. Once, while we were in the midst of bathing, there suddenly came knocks on the window. We were all like the dead … to our good fortune, the lady of the house, always full of nerve and courage, did not lose her composure and answered as was her custom: wait, I can't open the door, because I am bathing. As it turned out, it was one of the brothers who had come looking for his horse, and had come to ask if anyone had seen him.

Our lives went on like this until the spring of 1943. At the same time, Wacht fell ill with Tuberculosis and developed a strong cough. His condition grew worse from day to day. The landlord decided to move us into an attic. But there, his condition continued to worsen. This was apparently from catching cold. He coughed so much, that it could be heard all the way into the street. He began to plead with the landlord that he should be taken to Bialystock. The ghetto was still in existence there, and he had friends there. This was fraught with great danger, but despite this, the landlord hitched up his horse, and putting his life on the line, brought him to Bialystock. What a strange thing! without even looking at the fact that the landlord suffered a great deal from Wacht, because we, for example, didn't ask anything of him, and whatever he gave us was fine, but Wacht would always ask for cigarettes, tobacco, and didn't give him any money; and despite this, the peasant

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fulfilled his request. And after all this, when the sick person was being taken by wagon, the sense of pity by the peasant farmer so overwhelmed him, that he asked Wacht to return after he got well. After having invested so much work in him, he was reluctant to see him lost. As we later learned, this is what happened: Wacht indeed got better, and was returning to us, but on the way, the Germans shot him…

After Wacht left, we remained in the attic. For the first time, we were abandoned, and we could be discovered at any time, but after the harvest of the green fodder and its transfer to the attic, the landlord constructed a new cabinet under the fodder, and began to provide us with better food, with a lot of fat, in order to strengthen us. It is necessary to add that some Christians who hid Jews, eventually killed them by themselves over time, because they got disgusted with them; but in our case, the longer our stay continued, the closer the landlord and his wonderful wife became tied to us. Our friendship went so far, that I permitted myself to ask him for something. It was a newspaper… I once crawled out of the cabinet in order to take a peek at a newspaper, and as I was standing there, a Christian came up to the loft, who was about thirty years old or so, and started to look for something… and when he saw me, he was thrown back pale, deathly, like someone who has seen someone from another world… he descended from the loft without uttering a syllable. We were seized with a shuddering, but as you can understand, we couldn't do anything to help the situation. The Gentile was not a bad person by nature, and not stupid, and simply acted ignorant, even in front of the landlord… but every time he brought him honey from the beehives, he gave him a special portion of honey as a gift. – Why are you giving me this? the landlord would ask – Take it, take it, you need it! When a pig was slaughtered, he would bring meat. – For what purpose? – the landlord would refuse. – Take it, it's coming to you!….

Our situation grew most serious, when a Ukrainian police unit was established in our yard, along with SS troops that had fled from the front when the Russians drove the Germans out of the Ukraine. They immediately revealed their capabilities, finding three Jews in a bunker, and burying them alive… and we fond out later that the landlord didn't even want to tell us about this.

Once, the landlord prepared a surprise for us: he had his own idiosyncrasies. A son was born to him, and he decided to hold the baptism in the loft. The room was very tight, and the loft was wide and spacious. He hung white sheets along the walls of the loft, laid out tables, invited guests, along with the neighbors and his brothers, the police, and they ate and drank all day, got drunk, and sang together, and we lay in the cabinet under the fodder, looking at this gentile equivalent to a circumcision. We listened to prayers offered to the Holy Jesus, the Virgin Mary, we looked into the unclean faces of the Ukrainians, murderers and traitors, wearing green SS insignias and thought: the gentiles are alive, and into their cups, eating, carrying on, and happy – the world goes on according to its way – and we have arrived at an end like this… and I was reminded of our vengeful ancient God, and I asked him: Why is this? Why did we deserve this? I was reminded of a prayer I would say with my father regularly in the synagogue, when I was a boy: He who answered Daniel in the lion's den, he will answer us! Take pity on us and save us…as you rescued Daniel from the lion's den! Show us your mercy, for we are the last… the last… we did not believe anything else but that we were the last Jews in the world…

In the evening, when the drunken crowd had dispersed, on wobbly knees, the landlord brought us something to eat: , whiskey, the bacon from the pig, and candies, and we were happy with him, and we offered out best wishes for a lot of nachas to our dear lady of the house, because we were certain that if there was a Garden of Eden, that the gentile woman, Nistra Bigansky would be seated at the head, together with the matriarchs, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah.

Again, we went through an period of fear, when the German police carried out a search for bootleg liquor throughout the entire city. Our landlord had several tens of liters of this beverage, which was hidden

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near our cabinet. It's the same thing, he said: if they find you, they can find the whiskey already… but even this search passed peaceably: rested on top of the redolent fodder, and left….

In the meantime, the Red Army got closer and closer; the moment finally arrived when the Germans had to pull up stakes. But the snakes didn't want to run off just like that, and they ran from house to house, and threw in incendiary grenades, setting the whole town ablaze. The landlord ran around like he was crazed… what to do? He didn't care about his house, but rather, what would happen to us? He had invested so much in us, was he to stand by and watch us go up in flames? One evening, he came up to the loft as usual, and announced: Leave! I will go first, she, five paces behind me, step by step! He took us out into the field, taking us literally through the German artillery, until we came to his field. Here, he told us to lie down between the corn stalks, and he went off. We slept the whole night, and the noise of the German command reached our ears, we literally heard their every word, and thought: what will be our end… we had better get out of here… but in the morning, when I stood up and saw in front of me a sea of corn stalks waving – I understood that the gentile knew what he was doing, and we remained lying under the corn until the following morning, when the gentile arrived with the following news on his lips: – come out, the Soviets have already arrived… the landlord returned in the direction he had come, and in about a quarter of an hour we were back at his house, which had remained intact. When the neighbors saw us, they ran to the four winds. They no longer believed that there were any Jews alive at all, and they ran to tell the landlord: Panie Bigansky! Your former neighbors have returned! Owners of homes came out to us, offered us blessings of friendship, but falsely… they offered us the building where the police were located as a domicile, and we moved in there. We were swollen, blinded by our lack of being accustomed to the light, and our lips were in no condition for speaking…

However, very quickly, the secret of our rescue became known to the gentiles in the city, and they began to pursue the landlord and informed about him to the Soviet regime, telling all manner of lies. No time went by before they came to arrest him. He was forced to go into hiding. We ran to different officers and senior Soviet officials to plead for our landlord, and we told of his commitment, but they were of one voice: he should not hide, let him come, and we will see…but we didn't believe them – until a senior NKVD officer came through town, we went to him, and told him the entire story; our hearts were filled to the brim, and we shed tears a number of times in his presence… and he said, come now, you can be assured that so much of a hair will not fall from his head to the ground; I am Jewish myself, and I want to see this man who saved you, and to thank him! The landlord returned to his house. On the following day, the officer came with an entire troop; they called to the landlord and his wife: the officer gave the command: take off your hats! Took off his hat (among the Soviets, taking off of the hat, is the highest expression of respect that can be offered), and embraced the landlord, kissed the hand of the lady of the house, and thanked them for saving our lives. And this was the arrangement: every officer or high official who came through this town, would ask about this landlord, and pay him a visit, shake his hand, while offering him thanks.

And so, 5 months went by. We brought the eight surviving Jews in the town to our house. It was warmer for us… but after not a long time, we began to sense the air in the town getting close about us…the gentiles simply could not forgive us for remaining alive, nor to our landlord, who had saved us!… at every instance of confiscation from anyone, of an imprisonment, they didn't stop their refrain of blaming us…Zydy, zydy!

We decided to leave the town and travel to Bialystock. There were very few Jews left in Bialystock. It was a period of wandering of the greatest sort in the history of the Jewish people, and that the community affection among the people should be so great. If two Jews met in the street, even if they didn't know one another, they would fall into each other's embrace, kiss and cry… everyone thought he was the last Jew in the world…

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Our landlord came to visit us a number of times in Bialystock. So long as we were in town, no evil befell him, but as soon as we left, his situation became bad. The gentiles plotted against him without rest, and we received no answer to the last of our letters. Who knows what possessed this gentile, one of the righteous people of the world, with his resourceful wife, the righteous lady, who put her life on the line, not to win any prizes, and not for purposes of personal advancement, but simply because of that sacred human feeling to save another person's life, and what they took from us for 18 months, hurt for us, feared for us, and with us! Who knows!

The Jewish Hospital in Volkovysk

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