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Bolimow was considered a far suburb of Lowicz, and was situated only 15 kilometers from the District capital. It was surrounded by a profusion of fir–tree woods and rich agricultural husbandries. In the neighborhood was situated the glass factory Nymerow with the superb antique palaces and estates of the Radziwills.

Bolimow is situated on the River Rawka, an affluent of the River Bzura. It was founded in 1370.

The shtetl became famous in the newspaper coverage of WWI during the years 1914–1915, as the Russian–German front was in the area. Bolimow was an important strategic point, where Hindenburg's troops were stopped on their march to Warsaw and fought several bloody battles. The Kaiser [emperor] Wilhelm II came to encourage his soldiers to reach and conquer Warsaw, and soon after his visit the German used for the first time the gas Yperite against the Russians. However, it turned out that the gas was fatal for the Germans themselves, because the wind began to blow in the direction of the German troops carrying the gas, which poisoned thousands of soldiers. The military cemeteries in the area are a memory of these bloody battles.

The Po'alei Zion and Hechalutz organizations in Bolimow

The “Hechalutz Hamizrachi” at the farewell gathering for the chairman Mr. Arie Frenkel, on the eve of his Aliya (1935)

This Loan Fund was a great help for the impoverished Jewish population. It had 41 members, which meant almost 90 percent of the Jewish population.

Most of the Jewish inhabitants were craftsmen and small businessmen. The people, who helped with the loan–fund and with the other community matters, were almost always the same: Gershon Rothstein, Zelig Poznanski, Mordechai–Luzer Mann, Shmuel Stieferman, Aizik Feitche and Moshe Zik. The latter were for several years heads of the community.

During the years, the co–existence between Jews and Christians was peaceful, and they lived in good friendliness.

The Jewish youth followed the example of Lowicz, and after WWI they established a library, in the name of the writer Peretz, that contained several hundred Jewish books. The main activists in the library were Yechiel–Meir Freilich, David Rochman, Manie Rosner and others.

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At the beginning of the thirties, the following writers gave lectures, organized by the library: Yoel Mastboim, Melech Ravitch, Zelig Segalowitz and others.

In Bolimow there were only two influential political parties, founded in 1933–34: Po'alei Zion and Mizrahi. The Jewish representatives in the local municipality were: Mordechai–Luzer Mann, Zelig Poznanski and Nathan Rosner.

In later years, the majority of the youth relocated to other towns, where some of them had various occupations, studied at the universities or learned a trade, and only for the holidays they went home to see their parents.

During the first days of WWII, Bolimow became a transit point, where tens of thousands of desperate refugees, chased by the Nazi army, passed through back roads from the Western towns to the East, to Warsaw. The roads went through Wiskitki, Zhirardow and other towns. Part of the youth joined the flight.

Until the breakout of the war, nearly 235 Jewish people lived here. At the beginning of 1940 the number grew, due to the refugees, and at the beginning of 1941 it was 419 souls, and later – 460. Among them were 120 refugees from Lowicz. In March 1941, all were evacuated to the Warsaw Ghetto.

Although before the war the relationship between Jews and Christians was in general friendly, during the dark period some of the Christians informed the authorities on hidden Jews. Such a tragic event happened to 21 Jews, who were hidden in a bunker in the woods, not far from the shtetl.

Exhumation, in 1946, of the mass–grave of 21 Bolimow Jews shot by the Nazis. The exhumation was performed by Lowicz survivors, in the presence of a delegate of the Red Cross.

With the exception of a few lucky ones, who managed before the war to flee to many countries around the world, and a very small number to Eretz Israel, there is almost no trace of Jewish life in the shtetl, and Bolimow belongs now to the mass of the wiped out Jewish communities of the Poland destruction.

R'Zerakh Glezer [glazier] was a strong Jew; of medium height, broad–shouldered, with a large, wide face and a small beard.

Summer and winter he wore the same jacket. He walked with a strong step, always wearing boots, on his back a case full of glass.

This was the way he was seen walking through the local marketplace and along the narrow Bolimow alleys, looking for windows where the glass was missing. He would also take long walks to the neighboring villages where he would fix glass on the small windows of the peasants' huts.

His powerful step demonstrated good health and, with the case of glass on his back he was an integral part of the general population of the shtetl, remembered by all since old times.

And even when R'Zerakh was a little over ninety, his well–built stature did not give a clue about his age. He would march with the same robust step and the glass chest on his back. And although people did not need his services during the summer, those with eye problems would call him to help inserting the thread through the needle eye or other such delicate work, and he would do it skillfully, since he had uniquely good eyesight and did not wear glasses.

He also had an insatiable appetite. He loved a good and plentiful meal, and even after a good meal he would feel that it was not enough – especially during his later years.

R'Zerakh dreamed of going by foot to Eretz Israel, and die in the land of the Torah. But this wish was never fulfilled. Therefore he would walk toward Lowicz with an empty glass case on his back,

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a distance of 16 kilometers and several hours later he would be seen returning loaded with a full case of glass, not showing any sign of tiredness.

R'Zerakh belonged to those Jews, who grew up in the lap of Nature and together with it. He was a Kohen, but a simple Jew, who barely knew how to read Hebrew letters. He had 10 sons, all raising large families.

Once on the Holiday of Simchat Tora he was given the honor to carry a Tora Scroll during the Hakafot. His sons protested… and chose to do so in a primitive way: they took off their boots and began banging on the synagogue table. The noise resounded in the shtetl for many weeks….

When a former Bolimower remembers this episode in the Bolimow synagogue, his mood becomes disturbed and soon many old memories are rushing upon him. And even if some of the memories are dark and full of shadows, they are still sweet memories, because they were part of the Jewish life in the Polish shtetl, which was so cruelly cut off from the Jewish history.

Bolimow was a small town; most of its Jews lived a tough life and earned their livelihood with difficulty. Most of them were very religious and a minority were not religious [lit. were “free”], but the relationship between the groups was fair and tolerant. On Sabbath and Holidays the synagogue and the Bet Hamidrash were full. The young generation also went to the synagogue, respecting the tradition of their parents and fulfilling the commandment of “Honor thy Father.”

Moshe Mann

Until the break–out of WWII, the officiating rabbi was Rav Mendel Meisels, son–in–law of the rabbi of Bzhezhin. Due to his great modesty, he was loved by all the Bolimow Jews. R'A. D. Rotenbach was the ritual slaughterer in the community, and later was slaughterer in Lovicz. In Bolimow he was replaced by R'Avraham Frenkel z”l. He was my teacher; I drew from his knowledge and learned from his wisdom. His guidance showed me my way in life, to this day. He and his three sons brought a spirit of culture to the town. Rabi Avraham had the good luck to reach Eretz Israel, and served as a shohet (ritual slaughterer) in Menachamiya.

The following people served as heads of the community: R'David Kossover z”l, one of most respected figures in town, was ordained as a Rabbi but did not want to use this as a means of sustenance and earned his livelihood by the toil of his hands. R'Nathan Rosner z”l, was a very learned Jew, knew the world through his travels and worked many years for the benefit of the community and the local municipal council. R'Nathan Amsel z”l was a scholar, and served for many years as the cantor during the Shabat Mussaf prayer. R'Zelig Poznanski z”l, born in Vishogrod, was an educated man, who devoted his time to public activity, and his home was always open for any needy person. He was the founder and manager of the Free–of–Interest Loan Fund [Kupat Gema”kh] for many years. R'Shmuel Stieferman z”l, known by his nickname “Shmuel Dozer” headed many years the community managing committee; he was a wise and pleasant man. R'Shmuel Zik, who was one of the prominent people in the community, used to pray in the Bet Hamidrash with his friends and followers.

I must mention my distinguished father Mordechai Eliezer Mann, who was member of the Local Council and the Community Committee. He was a good and real friend to all the inhabitants of the town. It was his idea that I make Aliya and serve as a bridge for the rest of my family, who came later. One day he said: “My son! I could not sleep last night, thinking about your future in this Anti–Semitic environment. Therefore I decided that you should soon leave and go to Eretz Israel, and we, your parents, will follow you.” This is the way he saved his children. My parents did not live to reach Eretz Israel – they perished in the Holocaust.

The Bolimow Jews who had a Zionist background tried, and some succeeded, to make Aliya to Eretz Israel. Two of the Zionist organizations helped much to accomplish this: the Tze'irei HaMizrahi and the Po'alei Zion movements. Tze'irei HaMizrahi was headed by Hirsh Leib Kossover z”l, who devoted his entire life to the Zionist movement and he did not himself have the privilege to make Aliya, and Arie Frenkel, may he live a long life, one of the founders of the movement, who made Aliya and lives with his family in Kfar Haro'eh. At the head of the Po'alei Zion movement were Tuvia Rothstein and Aharon Mann, both today in Israel.

At the end of the war, we eagerly waited for a sign of life from our town. Out of the 300 Jews who lived in town, only 8 people survived.

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It happened during the war with Japan. Russia had positioned its Cossacks around Bolimow and conducted maneuvers around the River Rawka. Bolimow was a strategic point in all the wars, and no battle was missed during the occupation of Poland three hundred years ago.

Leibl Mann

What this meant, was “let them lash with their whips, let them learn on the Jewish heads how to spill blood and then go to battle!”

Bur everything has a limit: in those days, a few young and strong people lived in town. It was said that they had iron rings around their hips. There was the butcher named Shaul–Moshe Hayms – a young man, who did not fear even the devil himself. He was an ordinary youth, went to the synagogue to pray, was religious and devoted to his family. All week he worked hard in his father's butcher shop. Even Saturday night he worked, to prepare an ox for slaughtering, in the slaughterhouse far on Skiernewitz Street. Only when the Holy Sabbath arrived did he get some rest from the week's hard work.

After the “cholent” [a special Shabat meal of meat and beans, “slow–cooked”] he would meet with his friends – strong heroes as himself – and they would arrange competitions, would fight, lift heavy weights, and drink beer in the back–room of Wiskowski's tavern.

His friends were: Chaim–Shmuel the butcher's, a strongman with a look of a Bet Midrash student; the third was Chaim Zerakh's, a rough youth, one of ten sons, with whom the Creator has blessed the glazier's wife, the Zerakh'te, as she was called. Chaim was a balegule [wagon–owner]. He was so strong and athletic, that he could carry ten buckets of water from the Rawka River, five in each hand, for the distance of one kilometer and not spill one drop. In one such “walk” he would provide fresh river–water for Shabat, for the entire Bolimow population. The fourth was my own brother, Mordechai–Loozer z”l, who later perished for the sanctification of God's Name [Al Kidush Hashem] by the Nazis. My brother was the youngest of the “group,” yet he could fight and overpower three goyim [Gentiles]. As he was the youngest, he had to show greater strength, in order to be accepted by the group…

It happened more than once, that these four lads saved the shtetl from Gentile's hands.

For example, Sunday afternoon, a goy after coming out of the Church and after drinking a bottle of whisky was in a good mood, ready to start harassing the first Jew he met… At the first cry of pain one of the “guys” was at the scene, usually Shaul–Moshe Chaim's was the first. As an answer to his call, the others came: Chaim–Shmuel the butcher's, Chaim Zerakh's and after them my Mordechai Loozer. All dressed in their simple coats, with their small hats, and before one could notice, some of the shkootzim [young gentile boys] would lie in the mud, bloody and dirty. The lads would soon leave the place, and when the Police came there was no sign of them.

Once on a Shabat, at autumn time, some ten Cossacks came riding into the market place. They stopped by the well, not far from the Wilker Alley where the “Monopol” offices were situated. First they fed their horses and tied them, then they bought sausage, smoked herring and bread. They also took a few bottles of whisky and sat down in the middle of the market, on the stones, between which low grass grew, which served as pasture for the Bolimow geese.

As they enjoyed their meal and drinks, one of them got up and said to his friends:

– Hey, pals, let's play a little!

And in a moment they were on their saddles and with the whips in their hands they began galloping through the market place, from the well to the Lowicz Street, from there to the East side to the Shul [synagogue] Alley, and then back to the Skernyewitz Street. They rode around and around like a whirlwind lashing their whips like the tools used for thrashing the wheat. Whoever had the “good luck” to pass through the market, Jew or Gentile, was not spared: they would cut every passer–by.

A Jewish young woman, whose name I don't remember, was carrying

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a late cholent pot from the bakery of Pinchas the baker, for the Shabat meal. The Cossacks stood in her way, not letting her move neither backwards nor forwards. One of them, with one lash of his whip, swung the pot out of her hands and threw her on the ground. Out of pain and fear, she screamed: “Jews, save me! They are going to kill me!”

Our heroes, who until then did not seek to start a fight with soldiers, in particular not with Cossacks, heard the Jewish girl's cry for help and could not stand by any more. Before they even had time to change their clothes after the Shabat afternoon–nap, they were in the market place. They came from three directions, armed with a stick, a knife or a whip.

And the fight of the Jewish young men, still in their talit katan [fringed shawl] against the riding Cossacks was a sight to be seen…

My brother Mordechai–Luzer was the last to join he battle–field. I remember as if it was today: we were sitting at the table, and Father, the tall Meir–Yechiel, learned with us a chapter of Mishna. My brother, hearing the screams outside, tried with all his might to cling to the book, since Father did not allow him to leave. Suddenly, however, he began shouting like a young lion and jumped to the closed window, broke the glass and, holding an iron stick in his hand, was outside in a second and joined his friends in the unequal fight. But they jumped on the armed Cossacks and threw them off the horses one by one, and if a Cossack had a revolver they took it from him.

Ten minutes later, all Cossacks were lying on the ground, beaten; the horses ran away to the sands near the Lithuanian Road, nor far from Lashetznik…

Later when officers of the authorities showed up and asked “Mr. Pharmacist” (whose pharmacy was situated on the West side of the market, near the house of Yerachmiel's son–in–law) what had happened, he told them “They have earned it rightfully!“…

Since then, until the end of the war, Cossacks did not come to get drunk in Bolimow…

Bolimow numbered about 80 Jewish families. On the eve of the war, the Christians in town showed their true face.

When the Nazi troops marched into town, the Jewish population grew by a large number of refugees. They lived in the Bet Hamidrash, in the women's section of the synagogue and other places.

In the spring of 1940, after the ghetto was established, the Christian population was relocated to other streets and the Jews were concentrated around the synagogue street. The area was enclosed by wooden boards and barbed wire. The Ghetto–Police consisted of 25 men, among them 5 refugees; they wore blue–white hats. The Jews were taken to forced labor in the woods. Many of them lost their strength, and hunger annoyed everybody. Some took risks and managed to sneak out from the ghetto and go to the villages to buy some food at exaggerated prices.

In March 1941, when the Bolimow Jews were transferred to the Warsaw ghetto, there was not enough transportation and many were forced to walk to Warsaw, or leave their things behind.

A short time after entering the ghetto, our family succeeded to escape to Miedzyrzec. We were: my father, my mother, three brothers and two sisters.

In October 1941 we arrived to Miedzyrzec and remained there until the end of 1942, when the anti–Jewish Aktzias began. It was on a Friday evening, the Aktzia began by sporadic gunfire that continued all night. This way the Germans provoked the Jews and caused them to go out in the street, where they caught them. Our father z”l and two brothers, who had work permits, went outside to see what the reason for the shooting was, and never returned.

We understood right then, that something terrible had happened. My mother, my two sisters and I decided to go into hiding. In the wall of the room there was a large hole, closed by a cupboard. We used the hole to keep meat, which we sold in the ghetto. Now we climbed in, all four of us, and put the wooden boards in place, to close it. From the outside the apartment looked deserted.

We sat in the hole twenty four hours, without light, food or a drop of water. Finally we sent out our little sister Sheindl, who did not look Jewish, to investigate what had happened. Unfortunately she never returned either. We remained there another day, and when our situation became worse we reluctantly left our hiding place. It was late at night and the police had ordered a curfew. Risking our lives, we went through back–alleys to a Christian butcher, with whom we had done business. He was very surprised to see us. From him we learned that the Jews were sent to an unknown direction…

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The Christian allowed us to stay until morning, when it was permitted to walk in the streets. I went to the offices of “Stoak” the enterprise that built roads, where I saw many workers at their regular work, but I did not find my father. A Jewish policeman, an acquaintance of mine, told me that my older brother Yehuda is alive and is in town. This piece of information gave me some comfort.

That night, as I went out to investigate the reason for the shooting and find out where my father was, Lithuanians and Ukrainians surrounded us and chased us to the market place, where we were ordered to kneel and remain in that position all night. For the smallest movement one was shot on the spot.

It was a hot day and the murderers had gathered some 40,000 Jews. People fainted due to overcrowding and thirst.

Around noon, a “selection” was made and the “selected” were sent to Treblinka. Those who had working permits were left in town. Somehow I managed to join such a group and I was sent to the factory. It was not much better there: every few days a new selection was organized, my papers were of no use and several times I was almost sent away.

My life–preserving instinct always warned me of imminent danger. The moment I observed that the factory doors were closed, I understood that a “selection” was coming… As I had planned beforehand, I hid in the restrooms. Four times I had to hide this way, and to this day I don't know how I had the strength to endure and not be choked by the gases and the stench.

After the evacuation of the Miedzyrzec Jews, they established a ghetto, where my mother and my older sister were taken, and later my brother Yehuda joined them. Father, brother Moshe and sister Sheindl had been sent to Treblinka.

One day, the “Judenrat” received a telegram saying that my brother was alive and is returning to the Ghetto. In those days, being able to send a telegram – and to the ghetto, of all places – was a fantastic event.

Later, when brother Moshe really arrived, the thing was explained: our brother Moshe was an energetic young man and had exceptional ideas, and was ready to take risks.

After being a while in Treblinka, he surveyed the situation and decided to leave that Hell, at any price. He succeeded, together with two other Jews, to sneak into a train car that transported clothes outside the camp. But as he jumped from the train, near Sokolov, he was caught by two Polish policemen. From the Sokolov prison he wrote to the Mayor asking him to come, since it was very urgent. The mayor was curious and came, and my brother gave him all the money and diamonds that he had hidden on his body, asking in return to be sent back to the Miedzyrzec ghetto and send a telegram concerning his arrival. The Mayor fulfilled his request.

This was how our brother Moshe returned to the ghetto.

When the Aktzias in Miedzyrzec stopped for a while, we decided, after discussing the matter, to make any effort to return to the Bolimow region, where we knew every path and stone, and we hoped that for good money we would be able to hide with one of the farmers. It was the winter of 1943–44. Brother Moshe, mother and sister Roize went first. Later, after we received a message from the farmer where they were hiding, my brother Yehuda and I joined them secretly.

We were hiding in the village Zhillin, 9 kilometers from Bolimow, in the direction of Sokhatchew. The farmer had dug a bunker beneath his barn, and there we “lived,” all 5 of us… There was no room to sit or to lie down. We paid the farmer good money for that hole, and he treated us like dogs, or worse… He threatened us constantly, and sucked our blood…

After living a long time in that dirty and overcrowded place, one dark night the farmer came, with his son–in–law, and shouted to us that if we don't leave the place he will bury us alive. When we climbed out of our hiding place, both of them awaited us with axes in their hands. We understood the danger and fled into the dark night and ran to another village – Koravki, nearer to the shtetl. There we hid in a small forest.

We were resigned to our fate, and we doubted whether we would ever be able to find a hiding place again.

We then left our mother, our sister and our younger brother (after we made a note to ourselves where we had left them) and I went with Moshe to look for a new hiding place, at least for Mother. We met a poor peasant from the village Wola–Walitzka, with whom we were acquainted, and he agreed to hide our mother for a few days. We hurried back to the place where we had left them, but unfortunately we did not find them.

Later, other peasants told us,

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that peasants from the neighboring village caught them and took them away.

That day, early in the morning, as I sat in the small forest with my mother and sister, we suddenly observed that peasants, armed with sticks and whips were surrounding us. I told my mother, and she told my sister to hide and told me to run and warn my brothers and tell them what had happened. Later I did find my brothers in another village, but my mother I never found.

Later, acquainted peasants told us that the police and other peasants caught our mother, beat her and humiliated her, then took off all her clothes and beat her again, forcing her to divulge where her sons and other Jews were hiding. My mother kept silent and did not give in, and at the end shouted to the policeman, loudly that all should hear: My blood will not be given as a gift. All present should hear: This is my will, which I leave before I die: My sons shall avenge me!

The policeman took her to the prison of the Gestapo.

After learning that tragic information, my sister changed into peasants' clothes and went to for the sanctification of the Holy Name [Kidush Hashem] to Bolimow, to see if she can find out anything about our mother's fate. Nobody recognized her. Not thinking about the danger, she went to some anti–Semite acquaintances and asked them. They did not reply at all. And so our sister returned to our hiding place, broken and crying.

Next morning we found out, that our mother had been taken to the suburbs of the shtetl Pyaske and shot.

We were broken and the will to live left us. There was a moment when we were ready to surrender to the Germans so they could “finish” with us. However, life has its own iron laws. Several days later we felt again the desire to live and to avenge our mother's death.

We went to the peasant who had been asked to hide and protect our mother. We paid him well, but in time he became arrogant and intended to chase us away. But we had managed to acquire some real weapons, a revolver and two rifles, which we bought from a butcher in the Kurawki village. The butcher belonged to the anti–Semite “Armia Krajowa” [the homeland army]. When the peasant saw the weapons, he became scared and respectful. Thanks to that, we were able to obtain food and medicines.

One night, as we sat in our bunker, my tragically murdered brother Moshe and I decided to go out to the policeman who had delivered our mother to the Germans.

It was the first yahrzeit of my mother. Her will and testament – that we should avenge her – has not left our thoughts day and night, and we always tried to find a way, in the dangerous situation, when our own fate hung on a thin thread, to fulfill her will.

It was a night in September 1944. We did not tell our younger brother or sister about our plan. My brother Moshe and I went outside and changed our clothes to German uniforms. Hidden by the tall wheat stalks in the field, we went to the policeman's place. We knocked on the door and said that we were from the Gendarmerie. As he opened we rushed in, and took him into an empty room, one of us remaining with the rest of his family, to keep an eye on them. In the other room we performed the death sentence. Before fulfilling the sentence we told him who we were, and that we avenge our mother's death.

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The Kossover family – Yakov and wife Manie Kossover, sister, brother–in–law, and their children

Shaul Rothstein and wife Perl and their children

Frumet Mann

Hersh–Leib Kossover and wife Manie

Memorial plaque in the Martef Hashoah on Mount Zion [Har Zion][1]

Mordechai Luzer Mann

Zelig Poznanski

Freide Makhle Poznanski

Translator's Footnote

1. Plaque translation:
   
   BOLIMOW
   Who perished, murdered by the Nazis
   During the Holocaust
   And the annihilation of the Polish Jewry.
   Earth, do not cover their blood
   May Their Souls be Bound in the Bond of the Living
   Former Bolimow residents in Israel Return

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