[Column 613]

When we arrived with the transport, expelled during the Big Aktzia (roundup) to Auschwitz-they hurriedly kicked us out of the wagons, positioning men and women separately, and the young girls among them, in a special group. We were “privileged”, I and my sister Yehudit, and they put us in that group – to work.

We were 'employed' in outdoor work, demolishing buildings in a Polish village near Oswiecim, which was annihilated. Thereafter, I worked in taking apart old shoes and in cleaning their leather– shoes that were brought to the camp from Germany and afterwards returned there.

Among the Grodno women who were with us in Auschwitz and died, I remember: Miriam Gorbolski; Artzishevski – the mother and daughter (who was married to Labondz), from the store on Dominikanska Street; Batia Barzovski, the daughter of the editor of “Grodner Moment,” David Barzovski; Rachel Birger from Zamkova Street; Mina Kabakfein; Rozovski (3 sisters, they had a haberdashery on Mishtzanska street); Liza Dobski (her sister Sonia – in Kibbutz Dan - the wife of Elimelech Horovitz); Hana Beranson, from Lososna Street, from the family of gardeners.

When we arrived in Auschwitz, after 3 days of torture from thirst and other suffering, we were rushed and removed from the transport wagons, with beatings and gunshots. Then they separated us, 350 men out of 2,400 people who were in the transport from Ghetto Slobodka, and brought us to the 'work' camp. The rest, our families and brothers, were taken immediately to the gas chambers.

Our fate, for those who were still alive, was forced labor, hunger and beatings, that we got every day causing dozens of us to die. The first of those, from the Grodno men, was Itcha the blacksmith. The SS, the murderers, made him run, after stripping him naked, like on the day he was born, thrashing through the deep, sticky mud and beating him with sticks until he didn't get up again.

The next day, 22 people were needed for carpentry work. I situated myself with the others – all from Grodno. As we were brought, on foot, to another camp, we encountered on the way some female workers, wearing wooden shoes, light dresses and looking horrific. Among them I recognized the daughter of Mulye Pais the horse-cart driver, Boyarskit and Yochke, whose brother was the owner of a pub in Troitze.

[Column 614]

The Grodno men from my group who I remember: Shayke, my brother Lezer Shaykovski (today in Israel); Yehudl ben Yehoshua Stolarski from the 'new' market; two sons of Shmuel Chaim the carpenter from Farshtodt; David Gornitzki, carpenter from Rabbi Eliahu Street; Shlomo Palnitzki, son of the porter in the brewery of Moshel Slotzki; Moshe Grodzlski and the wood-turner, Nots from Podol (whose wife worked in the tobacco factory), and the son of Haim 'the gypsy' – innkeeper on Lososna street. These two contracted typhus and died a few days later.

And, there were some other Grodno men with us in another camp: Nachum “Cossack” (Topolanski); Ahron Reizner, owner of the laundry opposite the jail; the son-in-law of Mendlyusa “Parech,” Israel Pipak (his father, Todel, from the ”Gvarvarim” [young men trying to act grown-up] was also in Auschwitz); Yankel nicknamed “Die Maise” (the story) – a newspaper kiosk owner on Jerusalimska street; son of the mute shoemaker from Slobodka; the Kasman brothers from the ”Gvarvarim.”

One day, as I was trying to find the block of the Grodno people, I was caught and given 25 lashes. I felt that my strength would not last and my end was near. My salvation came from Lipa Ostrinski, of Skidel, who took me into his group that was about to leave for Birkenau to fix doghouses. For this privilege, I gave my portion of bread to the head of the group. Because of those dogs, I was “healed” somewhat, as the dog's food was better than ours and I would steal from them.

One day, on my way to work, I heard a voice call me from afar. It was a Grodno woman from my son's group who worked sorting the shoes of the dead. She was in a group and her food was better than others'. The young woman threw me a loaf of bread and a few pair of socks and told me to frequent this location.

In February, 1943, I encountered others that got caught up in the 'Big roundup' in the Grodno ghetto: the son of the tailor Alexandrovich; Berel, the fisherman and his brother; Kapulski the brushmaker; Velvel Grodzenski, the rider “from the field;” Yoske Freilichman, from a butchers family, who worked in the camp laundry and always searched for Grodno men in order to help them, however he could, with a bowl of soup, a loaf of bread, a pair of underwear.

On one of the days, Israel Pipak came to me, gave me his portion of bread, and uttered that after his father, Todel, ended his life by jumping on the electrified barbed wire – he had no strength to continue and he goes to 'the hospital', with the knowledge that from there you go to the crematorium. Like Todel, so did Yankel “die mayse” and others from Grodno.

it was my good fortune to be one of the few Jews to be saved from the valley of death – even after they set my hair on fire over my nakedness and shoved me under a pipe of freezing water.

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