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[Page 54]

The Extermination
in the Province around Bialystok

(The Destruction of Bialystok)

In the ghetto the air is indescribably oppressive. From Bielsk come trucks with remaining Jews, obviously professionals. The rest were including on the part taken to Treblinka, and some of them were shot on the spot. The “lucky” ones who are brought here are the only ones left from their families. They tell about the whole fate of the events. From everywhere, also from Grodno, Jews are brought here with the same ingenious methods and with the help of Jews. Here obviously must be “the lucky ghetto” where they are allowed to stay.

However, on a certain morning, when “life” awakens in the ghetto with the walk to work outside the gate and the new poor in the ghetto, women and children, stand on the street corners, breathe into their frozen hands and shamefully ask for alms, the ghetto is stirred up by a new event:

The ghetto is surrounded by the Gestapo; every ten meters there are armed Germans with machine guns and grenades in their hands. We are not let out to work. Gripped by terror, one asks the other, “S-o n-o-w w-i-th u-s, to-o?”

It's hard to describe what a person thinks and how they feel at a moment like that. One runs to find out what is going on.

Finally we learn that all the Jews from the surrounding towns are being taken away, Bialystokers themselves are not touched. We breathe out more freely, although we have little confidence.

The Germans have confiscated all the farmers' horse-drawn wagons to drive into the small towns at night. All Jews are herded out of their homes onto the wagons, leaving all their belongings in the houses. They are taken to assembly points at train stations. Many are also driven forward on foot. Those who do not

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come along quickly enough are shot. During the week when the deportation of Jews from the small towns continues, the whole road around Bialystok is covered with corpses of old women and men.

A large part of those rounded up have been taken to the former “10th Lithuanian Uhlan Regiment” [10 Pułk Ułanów Litewskich] and thrown into the horse stables there, which were without windows and doors. Small babies, women and men were exposed to the frost there for weeks until those who had not perished from cold and hunger and were able to save themselves from being shot, were loaded into wagons and deported to Treblinka. Only a few are ransomed by the Judenrat, which states that they are Bialystokers. When Barash comes with a truck and calls out certain family names, hundreds run to him; no wonder, they all want to save themselves.

A certain part of the Jews from the small towns managed to escape when they were led into the forest. However, the conditions in the forests around Bialystok at that time were very difficult for people without weapons, and moreover in winter, when there is snow and you cannot walk because footprints can be seen. Partisans used to prepare food during the summer, but the Jews, who could only save their bare lives, had to go straight to the peasants and, of course, pay strange prices. Moreover, they were sometimes robbed by the Polish partisans, who used to take off their boots and often even shot them. Many Jews perished because of these hard conditions and unpreparedness. There were hardly any Russian partisans in our area, only small groups of Russians with few weapons, fugitives from captivity, but even they used to move eastward to avoid the Polish partisans, who robbed and fought Jews and Russians.

Of the large groups of Jews, only individuals remained in the partisan groups and endured until the end. The fact that the

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Bialystok ghetto remained in place hindered the perseverance of people who would have been better off deciding to stay in the forest.. After months of wandering in the woods and streets, many tried to enter the Bialystok ghetto, but they had to pass through the guarded perimeter and were shot if they tried to cross the fence, or they were captured and thrown into prison, from where they were taken by trucks south of the city [Bialystok] to Novisholk [Nowosiółki] and shot or buried alive.

In this way more than half a million Jews perished and the province was “judenrein” [cleansed of Jews] by the end of 1942.

* * *

Before the time of liquidation, the ghetto was surrounded by Germans. The small stores had to close and food had become unaffordable. But, no one worried about food, everyone was only concerned with how to hide in order to stay alive. Every night you could hear the banging of hammers, and every morning when you came to the yards, you saw fresh piles of sand. They had been created after digging hiding places and shoveling out the sand. We had pooled the money with our neighbors and spent the last Mark to build a hiding place. Another cellar was dug out from the neighbor's cellar. A new city was built in the cellars, in the attics and in the double walls. During this period, Bialystok still escaped with a scare. There were still 40,000 Jews living in Bialystok, like a small island in the sea. Many of the Jews were refugees from large and small cities. 20,000 Jews have already disappeared, but in the conditions we live in, it means that Bialystok is still untouched .... The first great wave of extermination occurs on February 5, 1943, when 12,000 Jews are deported to Treblinka and 3,000 are shot in the streets of the ghetto. 200 children suffocated by their own relatives

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in the hiding places. Many have their hands and feet frozen off. A few dozen are lynched by Jews themselves - as denunciators of their own people.

[The extermination] gets a name. I don't know where this name comes from: “The First Action”—a name that says nothing.

 

The First “Action” in Bialystok

From February 5 to 14, 1943, Bialystok experienced a bloody eight days. What happened is impossible to describe, either on paper or verbally. I, who saw and witnessed it all, do not understand it to this day: how could this happen? How could “people” (there is no other word to describe those who, at least outwardly, have a human form) take old people, gray-haired people and infants with such cold-bloodedness and sadism and murder them as if it were quite normal and not extraordinary? No one will ever know exactly what happened, because no one is able to describe it in such a way that the reader gets a real picture of it.

On February 1, once again the ghetto was sealed off, no one was allowed out or in. German commissions no longer come to inspect the factories, but only the fences and gates to see if there are any openings. Even the Judenrat walks around agitated. The Germans are handing out potatoes. Whole carloads of potatoes come and are sold for coupons. This is somewhat unusual, because previously one used to get nothing at all except 10 grams of bread for two days. It seems like giving a chicken water to make it easier to pluck.

All the Jews are preparing better hiding places. It is clear to everyone that now it is Bialystok's turn. The underground organization distributes small bottles of vitriol oil [sulfuric acid] in all the factories and prepares the plan

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of resistance. Various rumors are going around. Some say that the Judenrat is negotiating the extradition of 5,000 Jews in order - as always - to calm the situation. Others say that even the Jewish police, who cooperated with the German, will oppose the extermination. Before the five days, one simply goes crazy from the many considerations and mental exhaustion. Every evening guards are posted to let people know in case the Germans are coming.

On the night of February 5, when it is not our turn but our neighbor's to keep watch, I come home exhausted from our friend Moti [and his family], whose hiding place I have finished building, and I tiredly fall asleep. While sleeping, I hear people knocking on the shutters and calling out: “Jews, out of the houses! Everyone into the streets!” It is the Jewish police who are shouting.

Our neighbor comes running in, deathly pale, and stammers, barely intelligible: “Ge-e-er-ma-a-ns are h-e-ere!” Individual shots can be heard in the distance.

I quickly wake up everyone in the house, put on the boots and a jacket (I can't find my pants anymore), quickly send the family to the prepared cellar and crawl into the attic myself with Leybl and neighbors. Not everyone fit into the cellar. After everything was arranged for my parents, I still try to get to the meeting places that had been designated by the underground organization for fighting. But, too late! The streets are blocked by Germans; if anyone shows himself, he is either shot at or seized and put in line with those who will be deported. I have no choice but to go to the attic, where ten people and a small child lie entangled.

 

Barash's Philosophy

The population’s hope in the Jewish police faded away, because they helped the Germans. Barash, as usual,

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had prepared a paper on which were written the names of the Jews who were to be extradited. A few hours earlier he had summoned the Jewish police with their commander Markus and made a speech in front of them. He said that if a person had a dangerous poisoning and they had to take off a hand to keep him alive, they had to do it. In this way, he wanted to convince them to support the German’s work; he thus guaranteed the lives of them and their families.

But the Jews who were on Barash's note could not be found. All were in hiding, except for a group of Jews from other towns who lived in a Synagogue on “Nay-Velt” [Nowy Świat] and had no place to hide. It upset the Germans who were demanding a lot of Jewish blood for their thirsty souls. The commander tore up the paper and began to search all the houses. The first to go is a Jewish policeman, usually holding a hoe or a hammer. After him follows a Ukrainian or White Russian with a gun. Only last to go are the Germans, with guns and hand grenades. They walk slowly and patiently through all the courtyards, smashing the walls, floors and roofs; and while the Ukrainians and the Jewish police do the breaking up, the Germans just watch. If someone is dragged out of his hideout, he is shot or taken to the assembly point on Yurovetske [Jurowiecka] Street, where groups of people are already being collected. In the meantime they are beaten, and dogs tear pieces of them. The Germans are mocking the women, children and old, graying Jews who are standing hungry, frightened and helpless in the frost, betrayed by everyone and abandoned even by God. The greatest cynicism, however, is committed by the Judenrat, which hands out a small loaf of bread to everyone who is taken away. This is to mean that they will be led to work, but they all know that they will eat it in the afterlife, where there might be a lack of provision in view of the arrival of so many people....

The bread must be accepted, and groups of people, huddled because of the cold, go to the gate at Fabritshne [Fabryczna] Street with a loaf of bread under their arms.

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From time to time the Germans who accompany them fire a shot, and then a Jew rolls into the gutter along with his loaf of bread. The bread, from which the person has just eaten, soaks up with human blood, which runs out of his head....

 

In the Attic

The first two days I lie with Beybe in the attic, and the parents in the cellar. There is a heavy frost and the wind blows through the cracks in the thin attic walls and the roof tiles. The wind howls as if crying.

Ten of us lie with a small child, one squeezed on top of the other, our feet twisted without being able to straighten them. We have pulled our jackets over our heads to warm ourselves a little with our breath, which is let out slowly so that, God forbid, no noise is made. If someone wants to stretch out his trapped hand, the others give him a nasty look. If you want to relieve yourself, you have to leave it underneath you.

We constantly hear screams and shots of the approaching Germans. Downstairs from us, the door is already being torn open. The child on the mother's lap starts to cry. We are all shaken, what to do? A neighbor puts his hand on the child's mouth. The child is silent, but- forever. As the Germans move away and several shots are heard from them, of which certainly several young lives have fallen in the street, the mother begins to shake her child. But- no voice. The mother begins to scream. It is understandable, but her mouth is held shut, after all, ten people are in danger. The mother cannot calm down and from time to time she utters a great cry of pain that holes our hearts like a bullet.

In the night, after two days, we send someone down to check what's going on. The night is quiet, and it is impossible

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to remain lying down with a dead child. The messenger reports that we can go down because the Germans use to leave at night. The latter behave like on a normal working day, they come early in the morning at 6, take a two-hour break at noon and leave at 6 in the evening.

In the night we go out. I push myself out of the attic and try to get up to go downstairs, but I fall over. My feet are swollen and frozen off. My brother picks me up in his arms and carries me downstairs to the room. There, everything on the ground is jumbled, the bedding is trampled and torn by German bayonets, a board of the floor is hacked to pieces, that's where the Germans were searching.

Beybe lays me on the bed and cuts open my boots so he can take them off. He goes to check on the parents. Mama with Raytsele come in, wrapped in many rags so as not to freeze to death in the cold. Their lips are parched, their noses and eyes red. My father also drags himself in. We don't talk. Everyone just looks at my swollen feet. My mother takes off her headscarf with a sigh and wraps my feet with it. She asks me if I want something to eat, she is hungry herself but worries about me, goes to the cupboard, but everything is robbed, nothing is left.

Sporadically, people crawl past on the street, like shadows on a wall, bent over and huddled together. One is already missing the whole family or a member of the family, others recognize sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers and children lying shot in the street. There's nothing to hear but convulsions.

 

The Harmful Division

We learn that the firemen, the burial society, the bakers and the wagoners, who go around with carts to pick up the shot in the streets, are free to move about during the time of their activity. Those who entered the hospital of the ghetto and the factories,

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are also not harmed for the time being. When the Germans leave, people scramble to go to the factories or, pretending to be sick, to hospitals. But the factories are full, no one new is allowed in, you only get a certificate that  you have worked there before, if you have connections. Some push their way in without a certificate and hide in the factory. But the workers look for these people and drive them out into the street. All three shifts sit in the factories, watch their relatives being brought out and shot before their eyes, and they can't help at all. They must continue to sit there and work because “the German” wants it that way and the brigade leaders also demand that they work, because otherwise “the German” comes and leads [the workers] out. Even now the German does not forget the factories and comes from time to time to check if work is being done and if there are any Jews there without a certificate. The families of the policemen also sit in the factories with newly issued certificates. “Their men” bring them food from robbed stores. The others sit there hungry for a whole eight days. But, who can eat in such a time, observing everything through the window?

When the Germans threw away Barash's paper and set out to search themselves, families of the Judenrat were also affected, lying in their hiding places and being discovered. But on the third and fourth day of the extermination, the Judenrat reoriented itself and began again to constantly extradite those with whom it saw fit. At the train station, where usually the Jews were exposed to get into the wagons to be deported to Treblinka, there came such people from the Judenrat who pointed to certain persons to be brought back to the ghetto. All this during the time when people were forcibly herded into the wagons, old mothers were separated from their children and men from their wives, when voices could be heard saying last farewells and consolations, and tears were mixed with the blood of received blows.

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At the same time, such a person from the Judenrat comes along, whispers something in the ear and promptly someone is led out of the center back to the ghetto. This led to a great demoralization, because every man's life is dear to him after all, and the Germans knew how to take advantage of that by creating a split between the Jews. The latter fell for an [evil] trick. Since it was difficult to find the hidden Jews and the search took too much time, they used to claim, when they found a group in their hiding places, that whoever revealed hiding places of other Jews would go free. Observing that there were Jewish policemen at the side [of the Germans], that nothing happened to the Jews in the factories, and that others were still being taken out of the wagons, not all of them could resist the temptation, and, even if it was only a small part, they broke and agreed to reveal the hiding places. Many of the secret hiding places were revealed in this way, and much damage was done as a result. The Germans, with great cynicism, issued a certificate that the Jew [who had revealed a hiding place] was a traitor and therefore free to roam.

The next morning dawns, we have to go further into hiding. I can't stay in the same place anymore, because I can't watch the mother in her suffering, can’t bear how she cradles her dead child and doesn't want to give it out of her hand. It is also too narrow to lie there because I have to lie straight down with my frozen feet and there is no way to stretch out there. My parents and my sister crawl back into their living grave, my brother Leybl takes me in his arms, because I cannot walk, and carries me to another place opposite our yard, to an attic. He puts various bowls and benches in front of our place, so that you can't see that there are people lying there. There are only a few people, so I can lie down stretched out.

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The Former Bialystok

bia064a.jpg
Bialystok City Garden and the “Imperial Palace” [Branicki Palace]

 

bia064b.jpg
The railroad station that connected Bialystok with the “big world” and from where the Jews were later deported to Treblinka

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The Devastated Bialystok

bia065a.jpg
Ovnet‘s Street, on the right was once the bakery[1]

 

bia065b.jpg
The place where the Bialystok Synagogue stood. The whole Synagogue yard and the surrounding streets are as if wiped away.

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What I Saw with my Own Eyes

The fourth day is sunny and there is a heavy frost. The ghetto is quiet. The only sounds we hear are groans from the “third street” and shouting from the Germans. Through a crack in the wall, a frosty wind blows, cutting through the body more than anything else today, I see Bialostotshanske [Białostoczańska] Street and a piece of Polna Street. Specifically, I observe our courtyard, where my parents and Raytsele are lying. I see Jewish police, Germans, Ukrainians and Belorussians who are serving in the German military, walking around and searching. Silence in the ghetto, everyone lies there in fear. The pavement is strewn with food and coats, with dead Jews, children, not yet cleared away in the few days, in various poses, stiffened and frozen, with a trickle of blood next to each one. Individual groups of detected Jews, huddled together, difficult to recognize, are led by the Germans. An elderly woman stays a little behind, she cannot follow. The German calls out: “Come, come!” She falls on the pavement from weakness, the German points his rifle at her, one shot, and a pool of blood is running from her head. She stopped moving and died instantly. The daughter, who had hooked her mother under as she walked, stops beside the dead body and mutters to herself: “A-a-already o-o-over!” The German, completely calm, calls to her: “Come, come, come!” The daughter starts to walk, another shot is fired and she rolls into the gutter, 10 meters in front of her mother. She picks herself up several more times, shouting unclear words. The group continues walking, huddled together, as if nothing happened. A young man trying to escape is also shot; the German laughs when he sees that the bullet did not kill him right away. And further silence in the ghetto.

Another group of Germans begins to search further. They enter the yard where I had lain before. It does not take long and they find the place where I was hidden the day before; and now

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people are brought out from there. I recognized them because of the dead child the mother is carrying in her arms. A small tangle of people is moving, the mother with the dead child in front, next to her her husband and two older daughters holding on to their parents' rags. This time the child did not scream and betray the hiding place. They purposely put the child in the front so that those who come to search would think that they had already been there because there was a dead child there. But, it was a mistake. When the Germans saw that the child had no injury from a weapon, they knew that it was not the work of the Germans and began to search vigorously until they actually found the hiding place. They shot two people immediately. The rest I saw being brought out. If my brother hadn't carried me over, I with my frozen feet would have been among them, and they would certainly have shot me.

 

Malmed

I lay there, watching what was happening, realizing how pointless it was to hide when everyone was looking for you, and I had sick feet to boot. Out of 50 thousand people crammed along several streets, only one person in the ghetto used vitriol [sulfuric acid] and cold weapons [knives, etc.], which everyone had taken with him to his hiding place. There were no more vigorous people. This was the most terrible thing about the process of annihilation, until one heroic Jew, Malmed, a refugee from Slonim, who had realized earlier that there was no other way out than to fight death, set a great example. Malmed had joined the partisans from Slonim, but the German, with the help of Lithuanian and Latvian divisions, forced the partisans to retreat due to heavy losses. He then arrived in Bialystok, where after a short time he witnessed the extermination process. Immediately he realized the nonsense

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of hiding, so he stayed at home and waited. The first to come in was a Jewish policeman who tried to herd him out into the street to the Germans. He did nothing to him. When the Germans saw that nothing happened to the Jewish policeman, a German also entered the apartment. Malmed immediately stood up to him, poured sulfuric acid on his face, which burned his face and blinded him. Then he fled. This happened on Kupyetske [Kupiecka] Street 10.

Immediately the Germans issued a decree to shoot the first 200 Jews who were in the same place. They were shot in Prage's garden, on Nayvelt [New World, Nowy Świat]. It was announced that immediately all Jews in the place will be shot if Malmed is not brought. I cannot clarify with certainty whether the Jewish police found him and handed him over or whether he reported on his own so as not to bring harm to the ghetto. On Kupyetske [Kupiecka] Street a gallows was erected on which he was hanged together with his wife (they thus saved themselves from taking her to Treblinka). This Malmed was the only hero within the eight days. Honor to his memory and be it a moral lesson for the survivors! After the “liquidation” comrades hid him in the cemetery of the ghetto and erected a monument with his picture and the picture of his wife.

There were also cases of passive resistance. When a group was found in their hiding place, some shouted out specially: “Against the old Jews, against weak women and infants you won the war, but you will not take Stalingrad! Down with Hitler!” After such an exclamation, these Jews, of course, were shot on the spot. Thus they avoided further torment. After all, it was like this: if you asked the Germans to shoot, they remained “polite” and answered with “no”.

 

On the Way to Treblinka

The searches continue. They are still looking for the “great enemies”

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of humanity, the Jewish babies, old people and women. Next to us, where we are lying hidden, many people are found today in their hideouts. Many also lie shot in the yards, in the streets, in the attics and houses. The people from the Jewish burial society with their green hats and dead faces pile the dead on carts, one on top of the other, like wooden boxes. While they take some to the cemetery on Zhabya [Żabia, Frog] Street, they lay out other bodies in a row because there is no time to bury them all. Those who remain alive are taken to Poleske [Poleska] Street, herded into the wagons, and then the doors are locked. Four Germans sit on top of each wagon with machine guns and shoot at anyone who tries to escape. However, many jump out just when the train is moving fastest, tearing open the windows and doors. Many dead bodies of young boys and girls remained on the way to Treblinka. Those who managed to save themselves wandered around hungry, unable to return to the ghetto because it was guarded. Many of them were seized by the Poles, robbed if they had anything, and handed over to the Germans. Others roamed the woods for weeks, trying to link up with partisans.

In those days, Jews met their deaths in different ways. There were cases of parents who came out of hiding because of their screaming child and surrendered, sacrificing themselves for their child. Many took their own lives, others lost their minds. Very many human and inhuman acts could be seen in those critical eight days of terrible extermination.

How was it possible to lie there, see such indescribable and unbelievable cases of how people treated other people, and remain silent? I can‘t understand it myself. I don't feel now, as I write this, what we felt then, and I don't know how it was possible to look each other in the eye, without reacting to it, not

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rebelling against it the slightest bit. What kind of creature is the man who can lie in hiding, watching something like this and waiting until he too is found soon?

 

After the Storm

Finally, isolated Jews can be seen again, crawling out and hastening through the streets. One makes sure that the Germans are no longer coming, although the ghetto is still sealed off everywhere. Beybe picks me up in his arms and carries me down to the apartment. Everything there is robbed and jumbled. I lie down in bed, my frozen feet hurt a lot. A doctor is called who orders that I get injections, which are very expensive. My mother is sitting next to my bed, she is afraid that I will faint from pain.

All the friends of our family were taken away, only we remained. The commotion that remained within the population must get discharged. Whole families were wiped out, which had woven their lives here for generations. The Judenrat perceives and understands the mood in the ghetto. To divert the anger that would be discharged on him, they take three young boys, arrest them, reporting that they, the three boys, in the time of the extermination, took boots and finger rings from shot Jews and robbed the apartments. The population tears itself to the mother to lynch her. The Judenrat sentences the boys to death and actually hangs them opposite the Judenrat. Whether the accusations were true or it was just three more victims of the Judenrat, I don't know for sure. But, the Jewish police [definitely] robbed. I saw that myself in those days, and with the condemnation they took the attention away from themselves.

As soon as we came out of our holes into the “bright world,” it was enough for someone on the street to shout that a special person was a denunciator, and all the Jews of the street fell upon him, lynching him

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on the spot. Every day, several people were lynched in this way. It also happened that Jews went to the apartment of such an informer and stabbed him with a knife.

But life goes on, those who stayed have to go on living. The hospital is full of people with frostbite, where parts of the body have to be amputated: Hands, feet and ears. Many remain cripples. I lie in the parlor, tossing and turning in pain. My feet have to be amputated, but there is no room in the hospital. The doctor gives me injections and after a week of treatment he assures me that my feet will be preserved.

Life in the ghetto is even more difficult than before. For a few more weeks the ghetto remains closed, and the only food is a plate of soup that you get from a kitchen. Later, when you are allowed to work outside the ghetto again, you are led like a prisoner, accompanied by a guard. At work, one is also guarded with weapons. The inflation is extraordinary: a loaf of bread costs 100 marks and a pood of potatoes 300 marks. The “great salvation “ is the little bit of soup that is given out around 12 o'clock.

 

The Split of the Underground Organization

After the week of liquidation of February 5, 1943, and the failure of the “Samooborone” (self-defense), the youth of the underground organization demanded to focus on arming and fighting in the forest. The older part of the organization tried to refute this idea by explaining that the forest could not accommodate so many people, and in the ghetto would remain elderly people and children who would have to be defended. In her opinion, the defense needed to be improved with regard to a recurrence.

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One comrade, Yeudite[a][2], vehemently defended the youth's point of view, and at three meetings it was pointed out that the reason why “the forest” could not only achieve little by February 5, but on the contrary there were many victims, was because there were far too few weapons. Therefore, it was necessary to send more people and weapons and to seek contact with other forests where more Russian partisans were staying.

However, not everyone agreed with this, and it came to a split. The movement “Yeudite” divided from the organization with a group of young people, and began to take action on its own initiative. I joined the Yeudite group and we began to work feverishly for our new path. The older comrades of the former organization even tried to block us by means of various slanders, but they did not succeed. The organization was spreading very much.

In the forests around Bialystok, where it was decided to create the base of our partisan group, there were already very small partisan groups, most of them consisting of escaped Russian prisoners of war and individual Jews from the province, which had long been liquidated. The work of the Russian partisan groups consisted of various disruptive actions: Blowing trains off the tracks, shooting Polish agents who collaborated with the Germans, and so on. We initiated a contact with such a group, whose leader was “Afronasitsh”. From him we asked for support, guidance and help to teach us comrades how to keep ourselves in the forest. Our first comrades who went to the forest did not yet

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understand how to get food with weapons, but risked their lives to go from the forest to the ghetto to buy food for money (!). This brought many difficulties and days of starvation.

Afronasitshe's group accepted us and taught the comrades to cope with weapons as well as that food was not to be bought for money. So it really happened; I went to the forest with sixty marks and came back from the war with this money.

 

Weapons Are Stocked Up and People Are Sent into the Woods

In the ghetto, the organization decided at meetings to get even more weapons to send to the forest. So they instructed every comrade, whatever he was working on, that he would have to bring parts of weapons. It was also decided to carry out thefts at night in the factories of the ghetto, where German uniforms had been worked out. We usually carried these uniforms to the Russian groups in the forest, for which they gave us weapons. We also assembled radios and carried them into the forest. So it happened that for one radio and a few German costumes we suddenly got a machine gun and eight rifles. On this basis, we were already able to send many comrades into the forest.

Our group increased in size and we asked a commander to lead us. We went mainly under a Russian commander who accompanied us on destruction work and taught us to keep contact with the Russian groups. We also met a very energetic Russian group named after their leader, Groza. The forest [movement] developed a “very interesting life story” that relied heavily on help from the ghetto.

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In the ghetto, every comrade who was designated to go out into the woods had to pass a preparation, because many comrades did not know how to handle a rifle. In a room on Tshiste [Czysta] Street, the selected comrades met to prepare. Benches were set up and they practiced hitting a target on them. Especially popular was a rifle, with which one lay on the floor and had to complete certain exercises. We also assembled bombs in the ghetto. Once, on a beautiful day, the ghetto was shaken by a strong explosion on Tshiste [Czysta] Sreet 8, where three of our comrades were making a bomb. The three comrades were blown to pieces. A German commission came, and it was said that the Judenrat covered up the matter. It was explained in such a way that an oven had exploded in the bakery, which was downstairs in the building.

At that time, a denunciator who worked in the Gestapo was also stabbed to death. He still lived in the hospital for several days and received sick visits from his comrades. The organization took advantage of that; two armed comrades came out of the forest and waited. When one of the informers came out of the hospital, they shot him. (By a coincidence, a stranger was also shot.) Thus “the forest” cooperated with the ghetto.

* * *

It was not allowed to bring food [from the ghetto] into the forest. The comrades learned to get food themselves from the surrounding population with the help of weapons. The latter, however, was informed at the same time that our struggle was also a struggle for their own liberation. The population identified with us, helped us a lot and informed us about the position and number of Germans. They did not withdraw their sympathy from us. From our side we shot at the agents of the area who caused suffering to the population and to us.

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In our activity, we always had to go through certain experiences. Once 10 men (from the ghetto) were sent out into the forest with weapons. In the night they crawled over the fence and wanted to cross the railroad tracks near the “Bialystotshek” [Bialystoczek]. Five of them got across, but the other five failed to do so, because a train was just coming up. In the meantime, a German patrol arrived, noticed them and shouted, “Stop!” Comrade [Shimon] Datner immediately shot at them, wounding one. This set off an alarm, but the shooting stopped, and several days later (they all) returned to the ghetto. Everyone dug his gun into a different designated place. [Given this incident] a rumor spread in the ghetto that partisans wanted to tear their way into the ghetto, a real sensation. We learned from these mistakes. Instead of climbing over the fence, we removed quite a few boards and put them back in position so that it would not be noticed. Next, there was an even greater relief for the comrades who were sent into the forest. They usually took their weapons with them and were taken with the help of comrade Zalman Finkel, who brought carts of dung from the ghetto to the villages , where he additionally hid things and led them out. This is how the youth fought.

 

I Save Myself from the Executioner's Hands

The constant arrests do not stop, and since our family is not spared any misfortune, one particular night I am actually arrested as well. A Jewish policeman pulls me out of bed and leads me away to the “Sing-Sing”, as they called the prison where the detainees in the ghetto were held. I learn that in the Agustov [Augustów] camp they need three painters for work; next to me, two other painters are already sitting under the bars, waiting for us to be handed over to the Gestapo. Mom comes to the bars in tears

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and asks, what should we do? Beybe wants to change places with me, to go to prison for me, but I don't want that. I comfort my mother and turn around the room, back and forth, looking at the inscriptions on the walls of people who have been there and were sent away to various camps, many of whom are no longer alive.

The Jewish police chases my mother away, a Gestapo vehicle drives up, from which a coarse German with a black hat, on which is a skull, gets out. He yells at the policemen who prance around him. The door is locked and we go into the vehicle. Mother stands on a street corner, eyes swollen, wringing her hands. We are taken to the Gestapo building, where we are ordered to get out of the vehicle and wait. In the Gestapo courtyard there are many people standing, with their faces turned to a brick wall, so that they cannot be recognized. All of them, however, have been badly beaten, some smeared with blood, some with bandages. One falls down from standing for a long time. The person watching over him with a rifle goes to him and beats him all over until he gets up and stands against the wall again. Every now and then you hear a heartbreaking scream of someone being tortured somewhere in a room of the building. In the courtyard, people are turning back and forth, working there as if nothing is happening. They've been working there for three years now and they have been seeing it every day.

“What can be done?”, I think. Now I have been standing here for an hour, and what will they do with me? Meanwhile, I observe that a German with a rifle is standing next to the gate, not checking any of the workers who go out with their tools. I tear down the yellow patches, take a brush that is lying in the yard and start talking to a Jewish worker who goes out to the gate to work; I accompany him, talking to him as if I were working with him. The German standing by the gate lets us through.

After we have walked a bit, I tell the Jew to take the brush[3] and head straight for the forest. Out of habit

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I walk on the cobblestones, but soon I remember that, without patches, I have to walk on the sidewalk. Looking around like a rabbit, I go home, towards the ghetto. I crawl over the fence of the yard where I was working and come inside to a couple of Jewish upholsterers working in a special room. They immediately understand that I have fled and hide me under the pile of mattresses lying there. It is known in the ghetto that I have been arrested and the Germans must not see me. The Jews hide me well and provide me with food; they decide that I should enter the ghetto together with them, but we will be one too many! Thereupon a comrade of mine risks his life, takes the way over the fence and bribes the German with several marks so that he keeps silent. I pull my cap over my eyes, change my clothes with those of the comrade and go into the ghetto. During the night I sleep at the home of a comrade and during the day I go to another place. In this way I hide for two days. Raytsele brings me food from home.

 

Our New Comrade—the Rifle

I realize that it is nonsensical to continue hiding and I contact the organization that now, given my situation, I would like my turn to be sent to the forest. Acknowledging this, on the day of August 12, they inform me to go to a meeting point. There a comrade will come and take me to a place from which I will get to the partisan group.

Evening falls and it becomes dark. I sneak through the little bit of street and go home to say goodbye. Beybe goes out into the street and watches to make sure no one is there either. I explain to my mother that I couldn't earn anything for the family anyway, since they are looking for me, and that I have to go to the forest. She turns pale and does not answer. It becomes quiet in the parlor. I go to my father, who is lying in bed, and we hug and kiss. Mother is still standing in the same place, silent.

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I hug her and a warm tear falls on my cheek. She whispers, “Be blessed and happy!” Raytsele walks out of the parlor. I leave money and food for two weeks, take my “burke” (short winter jacket) and leave. Beybe accompanies me to the house where I have to go in, he is not allowed in there.

Ten men are already sitting in the parlor. All are silent and look at each other. Two comrades who came from the “forest” for bandages and other things talk about the “forest” and about the preparation of the new people in the coming week. It can be felt that people from the “forest” are already somewhat different people, they have quite different concerns in life.

The female comrades eagerly try to fill our backpacks, they pour water into canteens [menażkas]. Several rifles are brought in, and late at night we slowly crawl, two by two, to the fence. One of the fence slats is opened and silently, not even breathing, we walk out. The first regulation is called: Shoot immediately if you come across a German or policeman who could hinder us. We go out one after the other and passing through Bialostotshek [Bialostoczek] we come to the road to Knishiner [Knyszyn] forest, our first target point.

The night is silent, we go with the guns, ready to fight at any minute. There is already a different smell in the air, you feel more human and get a little human dignity, you go without patches, free! Your best comrade is the rifle that never betrays you. But also we must not betray our comrade rifle; until the last bullet - the last bullet is for you - this is what demands from us the new morality, the common agreement that must bring the victory!

At dawn we reach a point where earlier, on a small mountain, there was a camp. Now there is a pit, everything is jumbled and destroyed by shells. Our guide tells us: “Two weeks ago, our group was attacked, fought with the Germans, and we had to mourn one victim, our comrade Fishl.” A few dozen meters

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away is Fishl's grave, a freshly heaped up mound. We stand around the grave and each of us is engrossed in our thoughts. With our gazes we say goodbye to the grave and make our way to a new point where our comrades are located.

It is not until daybreak that we arrive there. A comrade standing guard there welcomes us with a smile, quietly squeezes each one's hand and kisses them. He inquires about the situation in the ghetto. A small fire burns between trees, two cauldrons hang on a stick, in which food is cooking, prepared especially for us. They knew that two new comrades were arriving today.

We sit down around the fire, drying ourselves from the morning dampness that has soaked our clothes. We get to eat a thick porridge with a lot of meat; for a long time we have not eaten meat! We are told that today comrade Khayim Khalef will come with the commander of the other forests, who have conducted secret negotiations with a group of the same ghetto, which is now in the Suprasler [Supraśl] forest. We are shown the place, not far from the fire, where we must go to sleep, undressed, with the rifle in our hands. From now on we have to be ready to fight every minute, because we don't know when the German can meet us.

But, we are not asleep. There is so much to think about. The comrades who have been in the forest for a while are discussing internal matters, we can't get a word in edgewise yet because it's a completely different language. They reassure us about the various sounds that can be heard in the forest from time to time, they say that it doesn't mean anything and that we will soon get used to it and later be able to distinguish what it is.

The next morning the commander arrives, a young Russian with a good-natured and cheerful face. He greets each one separately, sits among us and asks various things; at the same time he tells the news he has brought from the other forests. He informs us that a federation is now being formed of all the groups

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that are in the forests. A union will be established, and all the groups will be concentrated in certain places in the Suprasl [Supraśl] Forest and its surroundings. We too have to go there and, according to the orders of the staff, we are placed in a certain section so that they know where we are and can send us commands.

We are preparing to leave. Everyone who has served in the military is assigned the more important weapons. I get the machine gun, weighing 16 kilos and loaded with 63 bullets per magazine that it can fire at one time.... The machine gun is called “Donskoy”, after its former owner, a Don Cossack. They give me two additional magazines with 124 bullets and instruct me on how to handle the machine gun, because I have only known different models before. As soon as the night falls, we prepare for the first “Bombyazhke”[b], then leave this forest and go over to the Suprasler [Supraśl] forest...

 

The Uprising in the Bialystok Ghetto
(the last extermination of the remaining 40 thousand Jews)

When the uprising in the ghetto began on August 16, 1943, I was no longer there. Four days earlier I was sent to the forest, where we stood at our posts to pick up the fighting comrades and Jews who ran into the forest. From them I learned exactly what happened and in what way the uprising was stifled.

During the last period, the underground organizations had been working even more intensively and they began to talk about broadening the work by uniting more organizations into one

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force. Under the pressure of the “forest”, the so-called “Yehudim [Yeudite?] Group” was united with the old organization and the (Ha)Chalutz [Pioneer] groups were also to be included in the cooperation. Barash, too, had reoriented and looked for the leaders of the organization. He partially supported the Zionist Chalutz movement with money, but he knew that this was not the right force to rely on and tried to talk

 

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A tragic picture: the medical staff of the Bialystok Hospital is led out on the way to Treblinka

 

to the Polish organization. However, the Germans worked much faster....

Early in the morning of August 16, the ghetto was suddenly surrounded, the Judenrat was occupied and it was reported that all Jews

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were being led out to work (the “old song”). Everyone knew very well what this meant, because even children and aged people were called “to work”. The organizations immediately took positions on the agreed places, on Tsheple [Ciepła] Street, Novogrudzke [Novogrodzka] and Khmielne [Chmielna] Street. Weapons were distributed and it was decided to start the fight by firing at the fence, which was surrounded by Germans, and, taking many Jews along, to break through into the forest. Quite a few factories were set on fire and there was heavy shooting in the courtyards and houses at the Germans, who patrolled the ghetto and threw grenades at the fence to break through. Many Germans fell and the rest retreated.

Realizing the attitude of the fighters—the fight lasted already half a day—the Germans brought several tanks into the ghetto, dividing the streets and cutting off the connections between the groups. They also reinforced the guard around the fence, and it was impossible to break through. The comrades fought for a whole day. Not having any connection with the leaders and not knowing what to do further, the groups became more and more thinned, many comrades had fallen. The rest fought by setting fire to the houses that had to be abandoned.

It proved to be extremely counterproductive that the grenades, which had been manufactured in the ghetto, did not explode, because they had been lying in a damp place all the time.

At dawn, our brother Leybl (Beybe), as a disciplined member of the organization, immediately put himself forward to fight. Leaving his home, he immediately gets weapons and fights on the position designated for him in Novogrudzke [Novogrodzka] Street. During an attack he is wounded in his hand; he does not leave his fighting place, but continues fighting wounded until the evening. Later they learn that they should mask and go to stand with the other Jews

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at the train station, and then jump off the train and head for the forest. Together with several comrades who bandage his wound, they rush over to the mass of people who are led in rows to the train and later, when they are already on the train, they tear open a board and jump out after the Lape [Łapy] station. He manages to reach the forest, unfortunately, not where I and the others were, but in the woods of Breynsk [Brańsk]. There were no partisans there yet. The four of them live there without a gun, obtaining food

 

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Beybe, perished at the age of twenty two

 

in various ways. This is what those who were with him told me. During this time his hand heals, and so they remain there until winter. In winter, however, the Poles learned from the still visible traces of the comrades where they were hiding, and there was a danger that they would come and murder them. Therefore, they decide to leave the place and divide into groups of two men each.

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From then on, there is no more news of Beybe and his comrade. The other two remained alive. I spoke with one of them. Thus ends Beybe's 22 years young life. Nevertheless, his attitude and dignified human spirit should be a consolation for us. He fought as a wounded man and did not lose his courage. Honor his memory, our pride for us as brothers and children of the [Jewish] people!

 

The Cruel End

The struggle of the Jewish population was immediately crushed in the first few days. The Germans still tried to deceive the Jews and divided them, saying that a smaller ghetto would remain. They segregated a certain number of Jews on Fabritshne [Fabryczna] Street, where they were supposedly allowed to continue living, and exploited them by having them clean up the factories and take out the machines; after that, they too were killed.

Thousands were shot in the city, on the streets of the ghetto and while being led away over the roads outside the ghetto. Next to the railroad they rounded up all the women, children and men and kept them for days without food and drink, until people began to have fits of weakness and asked themselves to be led to the wagons, because that would ultimately be a “salvation”. The last extermination action was one hundred percent more cruel than the first one of February 5 of the same year, and it is impossible to even begin to describe it. Many people hid in the hiding places they had prepared, but gradually they were discovered by the Germans. Throughout the year, when the ghetto was closed, until the entering of the Red Army, groups with Germans and Polish workers were sent to clean up the houses and bring out everything that remained inside. When they came across such hiding places of Jews who were half dead from lying crammed together for months without being able to change their clothes, wash or comb their hair,

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and who could live only on dry food, the Germans used to gather them in groups, deport them south of the city to Pyetrashe [Pietrasze] or Novoshilki [Nowosiółki], dig pits and shoot them there naked. One of the Jews, Aberzinski, managed to escape from such a “living pit”. He came to us in the forest and told us everything. We took in many Jews in the forest, gave them a new home and weapons, with the possibility of taking revenge on those who did that to us.

This ends my colorless account of the tragedy of over 60 thousand Jews in the Bialystok ghetto. There still remain the descriptions of the struggle and life of the created partisan movement in the forests around Bialystok, which I try to pass on.

 

My first “Bombyashke”

As soon as it is dark and night falls, the commander has us stand together and tells us how we should behave towards the population when we enter the village; what we can ask for or not. He assigns everyone their tasks and off we go; three comrades, the scouts, go ahead, the rest go one after the other, in a line, silently to the designated place. Through streams and swamps, over paths that have never borne a human foot, we come to the village we can see from afar. We stop, lie down on the ground to listen and wait to see what happens. Quite a few comrades are sent to find out what the situation of this area is, where German patrols are, to scout out the route we have to take and where exactly we have to go. Lying down, we wait for their signs.

The village is noisy with constant sounds. Dogs go at each other, gentile girls go noisily from the field, laughing and shouting. Wagons, loaded with grain, creak slowly forward. Cows walk with udders full of milk

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that we will drink soon. The comrades come back and signal with their hands that we can enter the village. We go out, surround the village on several paths, set up posts with weapons on the paths that lead to other villages. I, with the submachine gun, take position on the road leading to the town, from which it is thought that Germans may come. The other comrades scatter around the village to collect the food we need for our way.

For the most part, the peasants accommodate us with sympathy, bring milk outside to drink, inquire about news from the front and how life is in the forest. They wait with impatience to be liberated by the Red Army and give us different news concerning the German forces. The comrades quickly bring out the received products to the gathering point, where they are packed to be able to carry them on the way.

Meanwhile, a farmer comes to me and tells me that the ghetto is burning and all the Jews in Bialystok are being shot. (It is only the third day that I am away from there.) I immediately transmit this to the comrades, who don't believe it and answer: “He recognized that you are a Jew, and he says that specifically because he is probably angry that we are taking food away from him.” However, we see that the sky around us is red. Not long ago we left the ghetto and we had no idea that such an annihilation was about to happen there.

With our minds already elsewhere, we quickly finish the work and leave the village to go to the Suprasler [Supraśl] forest, where we have been ordered;  and with the food and weapons on our shoulders, we leave in deep anxiety. What to do now? We rest and before leaving the Knishin [Knyszyn] forest we fire a volley of shots in memory of our victims, who fell in battle with the Germans.

 

In the Suprasler [Supraśl] Woods

We walk all night and arrive at dawn in the Suprasler [Supraśl] forest, where we are shown the new place, our new home,

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new trees and new earth. All day long we have guests in our “new home”. Russian groups from the area come to visit us and introduce themselves, and at the same time everyone gets together for a conference to discuss how we can organize our further work in the forests together. It is clear to all of us that while we are talking, our ghetto is being annihilated, where our comrades are fighting who did not manage to get into the forest. Now, we will not receive any contact and support from the ghetto. Also, we must prepare for large raids by the Germans in our forests, because all Jews who manage to break through the ghetto will flee into the forests, knowing that there is a partisan group.

There is a difficult situation in the forests now. All the fleeing Jews come without weapons, making our work more difficult as well. The deliberations take a long time, what should be done now? And how is all this to be organized? The Russian groups express that they want to go east, where there are more military cohorts and larger forests. They decide to leave the forests around Bialystok to gather large forces around them elsewhere and come back. Our opinion and duty is to stay to accommodate our comrades and all the Jews for whom we partisans in the forest are the only salvation.

The Russian groups leave and we remain alone, waiting for our Jewish brothers to take them in and prepare them for further struggle. We arrange with the Russian groups certain contact points when they will come back to us with information. We undertake quite a few “bomyashkes”, prepare food for those who will come and post our comrades outside on the paths leading from the city to the forest, so that they can pick up the Jews they meet and bring them to us.

We bring many men and women that we meet straying in all places of the forest, we give them food and assign them temporarily

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to certain parts of the forest, where we place some comrades with weapons to protect them. A few times a day we bring them food. Several of our comrades are killed by explosions while they are at their post to pick up and seek out the wandering Jews. Many Jews are being shot by Germans who are making large raids in the forests to look for the partisans. We continue our work resolutely, because we have not come to guard our lives in the woods; we have gone out to fight and must take in everyone we meet, whether our forces now will make that possible or not. Finally, after the extermination of the Jews in the ghetto, our base has been destroyed, from which we have received bandages, radios, weapons and people. Thus begins our tragedy in the forest. An influx of Jews without weapons is coming, and we are taking them with us, relying on our own forces.

 

Jews in the Forest

In the forests there were different groups of Jews. There were private groups, that is, Jews from all the towns that had been liquidated were lying in the forest in groups of 5-10 unarmed people in pits. They bought food for their money from known farmers or exchanged various valuables they still had. When they had no more money or valuables, many of these groups would go out into the fields at harvest time and gather potatoes or other vegetables at night to prepare for winter as best they could. They simply lived with nothing. If we happened to come across such a group, they were like the living dead. When we looked at the people, we couldn't tell which of them was a woman and which was a man, because they were all parched like plants that don't get water.

When we met such groups of Jews, we explained to them that it was important to fight in the forest and not lie there

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waiting for liberation. We took comrades [from their groups], showed them all the other meeting places in the forest, and also designated people from their midst to maintain ongoing contact with us. Their task now was to procure weapons from the surrounding neighbors from the money they had, and we combined their commission with ours by teaching them how to get food. We accepted them, including them in all the acts of sabotage we carried out.The influx of Jews after the complete liquidation of the ghetto complicated our organizational work and preparations for winter life in the forest. Nevertheless, we took them all in, providing for them according to our means and sharing everything we possessed at that time.

 

The Contact with the City

We continued our work as a group from Bialystok in contact and with the support of the underground organization P.P.R. [Polish Communist Party], which existed in the city, outside the ghetto, and was composed of former members of the Communist Party.

From our side there remained five comrades: Roze Vyesbitski, under the pseudonym “Marilke”, Khaye Grosman and three others, whose names I do not remember. Living outside the ghetto with Aryan passports, they used to come to us in the forest, bringing from the city necessary information, weapons and bandages, when raids took place and we could not go out [of the forest] and move. In the times when we were separated from them and could not, thanks to their help, be in contact with our partisan group, the great feat they accomplished cannot be described and conveyed. I will only

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mention individual facts of their work that best describe their perseverance and dedication in the fight against Nazi fascism. Every wandering Jew, hiding in various ways, whom they met in the city, when Bialystok was already “judenrein”, they used to take him in, hide him until night and bring him to us at agreed

 

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Khaye Grosman

 

points in the forest, where we accommodated them. The comrade Rivke Madeyska found a little boy wandering in the city and took him in to bring him to the forest. But the boy had no patience to wait until night and went out to mend his shoes. He walked barefoot through the city.

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The Gestapo stopped him and, realizing that he was Jewish, forced him to testify by various means where he had been hiding until now, because there were no Jews left in the city. The boy told them where the comrade had hidden him. Immediately a group of Germans ran, surrounded the house and wanted to arrest the comrade. But she, seeing who was knocking at the door, immediately understood what had happened and tried to escape through the window. A German chased after her and wounded her with his dagger. The comrade Rivke Madeyska was wounded. She lay in the hospital for several days before she died, not wanting to reveal a single word, not even that she was Jewish, because she did not want further questioning to endanger her comrades who were carrying on the work.

The comrades also had contact with several Jews who were in prison and organized their escape into the forest. Through them we received bandages, medicine, radios, weapons and people. Thanks to them, comrade Berl Shatsman, a fugitive from prison, also joined us. Their work and the permanent contact with our partisan group facilitated many things, and later, when we met with the Russian groups, they became our most important factor concerning the connection with the city. They even manage to establish a contact with a German, a director of a factory, who brings weapons to the partisans and comes to the forest especially to see partisans.

Our then-commander of the brigade, Vaytshekhovski, welcomed him with a great parade. Today the German is in Moscow as a free citizen.

 

Our Organizational Difficulties

During the time when we had posted our comrades on all the roads to pick up the wandering Jews in our group,

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more than 80 Jews were taken in by us, men and women, all of them without weapons, who could only save a single piece of clothing they were wearing on their bodies when they fled. We divided them all into special groups and brought them food. These conditions were very unfamiliar to us; people who had never been in an organization and, in addition, were still in shock over the destruction of the ghetto; they did not understand what our task was. Great difficulties arose in the forest because of them. All our efforts to classify them, our requests to give us money so that we could get weapons or other things, met with problems. They were not prepared to develop understanding for the work in the forest and were mostly selfish, wanting only to improve their own situation without considering the others.

We did not want to force them to take over our duties, and this was actually a mistake on our part. We behaved too democratically, and this brought long weeks of starvation after the arrival of so many Jews. We simply lived with one boiled potato a day, understanding that we had to wait for a certain time. After all, they did not understand all this and tore back to the city to buy food for money, what was impossible in view of the Gestapo raids. One of them even tried to persuade our two comrades to leave in order to get something for the others. They actually fled, at a time when we were in the most difficult situation. This forced us to divide all the Jews into special groups. Some of the private groups were also divided separately; we sent comrades every day to bring them food and protect them. When we got more weapons, we took comrades from them into our fighting group. In the forests further east around Volkovisk, Slonim and Baranovitsh [Baranovichi],

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conditions were much easier: larger forests, larger groups of partisans, more weapons. There it was usually possible to create zones where for months no German foot could enter. Only in certain times of big battles, when the Germans raised whole divisions to fight, they used to push back the Germans with losses or left the place in time. When escaped Jews encountered such a group, they were safer and more cared for. At the same time, they used to fall under a military discipline right away.

In our forests we could not create such zones because of the large crossings of railroads and main roads. We had to fight much more often, to face the German eye to eye; and we had to be more stubborn in the face of hunger, which was a constant companion. Not all of us could understand and endure this; for this purpose, one had to have been prepared earlier in one's education, and many did lack this, which is why they understood the task in the forest too late. The group, now formed of gunmen, consisted of three “pulemyotn” [machine guns], two “dyesatkes” (a gun that shoots 10 bullets at once), ordinary rifles and a revolver. Those who had weapons were divided by us into the group of armed men, which had to supply all the other groups with everything, and at the same time procure weapons, blow up bridges and railroads, and get rid of various spies and provocateurs. We also had to continue to maintain contact with our female comrades in the city and prepare for winter, which set in early.

The German Raid on our “dzhelyanke”[c]

 

Part of our armed group took up their work

* * *

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in another forest. In the Suprasl [Supraśl] forest we stayed with 30 men, armed with two “pulemyotn”, one “dyesatke” and the remaining rifles. In special places in the forest sat the unarmed groups with whom we met every day to supply them, and from which we took comrades to all the places of our activities. After a big “Bombyashke”, which we carried out near Bialystok, in the village of Karakul, we came to the 56th “dzhelyanke” in Ozover forest, taking comrades from all groups to us to distribute the things needed by them. After being on the road all night, we rested during the day under the cold autumn sun, which already made the body tremble when lying on the ground. The groups camped scattered in the woods, some talking, some teaching the newly arrived comrades how to handle a rifle, which unfortunately many did not know until the last minute. Quite a few comrades stood at their posts, everything was as normal as every day.

While we are sitting comfortably, we hear a shot, very close. We are not surprised, but after a minute a fierce shooting of “pulemyotn” and [other] automatic weapons begins. Our commander orders us to get up and says that this is certainly a raid. The Germans go through the forest shooting to hear [a reaction in the form of ] a shot from us so they know where we are. He orders us to position ourselves at certain points between the trees, and at the moment when he has not even given the second order, we already hear close shouts of the Germans. There are ten men next to us. We see them face to face, coarse, flattened visages, swinish abominations. We open a fierce gunfight, the battle lasts half a day, a mixture of hellish noise and a whistling of bullets in the dense silence of the forest. I am surrounded by Germans! Comrade Khilek with the second “pulemyot” runs to me and helps me to get away from them, opening a gunfight behind my back. At that moment I take a step back

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and stand side by side with him. A young tree falls from a bullet and crashes down on me. I fall and the next bullet hits my comrade Khilek! I turn my head to him; my comrade Khilek immediately turns pale, falls down, the “pulemyot” lies on him, with the barrel stretched upwards. He holds it tightly with his hands. I look around. No one there. The bullets hit the trees, and leaves fly through the air. I retreat, not knowing which direction is better, but I go back. After 50 meters I meet a comrade who has also shot all his bullets and is retreating. Together we go back to the rear and after some time we sit down, listening to what continues to happen.

I tell him about the death of the comrade at the pulemyot, and he tells me about the death of our commander, which he witnessed. We decide to lie down until the fighting calms down and then take stock. We hear a few more shots and then the hammering of bayonets. They have already reached our kitchen where the cookware is! When it has become dark, we hear the sound of vehicles, apparently the Germans are already leaving. We make our way to the appointed place where we usually meet to see who is missing and who is coming back.

Deep in the darkness of the night we find some of our comrades who join us at the meeting point. Twenty men gather there, ten missing. We decide to go back to the place immediately at dawn to find out what is going on with the 10 men. When we get to the place where our post was, we see him lying face down with his shirt covered with blood - dead! Lying on his post, he immediately shot when he saw the Germans to let us know, as it was agreed. The Germans immediately responded by firing fiercely in his direction, hitting him instantly. The other, who was standing with him and ran to inform us,

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was slightly wounded in his hand, one finger was shot off. We found him a few days later at a meeting place he knew and where he was waiting for us. When we go deeper [into the forest], we hear a voice. We run there and find a female comrade with a hand shot off, just hanging on by a piece of flesh. Our comrade Rivke Shinder got dumdum bullets and lay there until we found her, after high blood loss. We take her and slowly lead her away to another place. Of the remaining comrades we know nothing yet. After two days we find our comrade Simkhe Love, wounded at his leg by a bullet, he was laying there the whole time. He had moved a bit away from the place, so we had a hard time finding him. Six comrades fell, along with our commander, three are wounded and one, Farber, who came to us not long ago from fighting in the ghetto, not knowing of our life there and of the meeting places in the forest, is completely missing. We have no clue as to where he went and whether we should count him among the dead or the living; nor do we know whether the Germans still found him alive.

From the surrounding peasants we learn that among the Germans there are three dead and one wounded, and the biggest enemy, the then spy Karpovitsh, who led the Germans to us, also perished in the battle. Learning about his death, the peasants of the whole area breathed more freely and their relationship with us was characterized by trust and sympathy in recognition of this act. They told us a curious story: before he left for the forest with the Germans to lead them to us, he had said goodbye to his family and told them that he was going on a hard job today not knowing if he would be back. He got drunk on it out of a premonition that it might be his last minutes. But his death cost us too much! We lost our commander and 6 comrades as well as all our food, which we did not manage to distribute to the unarmed

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groups in time; everything fell into the hands of the Germans and we still had less than nothing.

Our wounded we take to another part of the forest, not far from the place [of the raid], for because of the enormous loss of blood they suffered before we found them, they were too weak to be taken any farther away. We bring a doctor to them who was with us. The doctor assesses them, but what can he do without prescriptions. We leave a couple of women with them to take care of them. From the city we bring them bandages, food and prescriptions. We, the armed men, must continue to concentrate on our work with all our strength and decide to go to another forest for the winter, the Budisk [Budzisk] forest, near Sokolke [Sokółka]. Autumn begins with heavy rains and winds. It pours day and night. We are already completely soaked from the rain. We stand in the rain, sleep in the rain, do everything in the rain. It takes hours to start a fire: We take a rough piece of wood, cut a deep hole with the knife to where it is dry, and gradually use up a whole box of matches until, after a long effort, we can make a fire. We have to move the unarmed comrades away from the forest where the wounded are, so that the sick are safer, attention is drawn away from that place and no one comes looking. Meanwhile, we take our food from nature. Morels gathered in the forest and cooked without salt have a taste like death. Anyway, we are so hungry that we eat another spoon, but from all the food we get sick and start to break green bile. We choose another commander, comrade Shepsl Borovik, a brick layer [“mular”] from Bialystok, my comrade, who served with me in the Red Army in 1940. He is like me, also just has the same knowledge, but after all we do need a [commander], and he has a good orientation in the forest, is brave and energetic.

We start our further life from the beginning. The comrades who had moved away to the Knishin [Knyszyn] forest come back in groups; however, not all of them,

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and they also bring a comrade who got wounded in the foot a week ago. They support him, he is very weakened. They fought many battles there with the Polish partisans and therefore did not get to organize the [escaped] Jews. The Russian groups have not yet returned and we decide to send two of our comrades away to seek contact with them further east. Comrades Marek and Ele Varat bring us help. Winter is approaching and the weather is getting worse. A foul smell is already emanating from the clothes we are wearing, because they are constantly wet due to the continuous rain that is raining down on us.

 

The Specific Life of a Jewish Partisan

The Jews who came to the forests of Belarus around Baranovitsh [Baranovichi], Minsk, used to meet strong Soviet partisans, well organized with the help of weapons from Moscow. Parachuted down commanders who had previously graduated from partisan schools in Russia, were active in organizing the partisans in the enemy's war zone. They numbered in the thousands, were well armed and could afford to fence in whole kilometers of forest. Even the villages next to the forest were surrounded with partisans, and for months no German foot entered there. The villages paid a levy in the form of food to the partisans. Many partisans camped quietly for months, organizing workshops where they repaired everything needed by those who came or went to fight. At certain times there were raids by the Germans; then, when they mobilized several divisions, there was heavy fighting with many casualties. Sometimes this ended in retreating to other forests, but often they also managed to repel the Germans, whom they taught to “keep their noses out of their forest and have respect for them.”

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In these forests there were no special problems for the Jewish partisans. They fought together with everyone, as in the armies of all countries, distinguishing themselves by special reliability and willingness to fight against the Germans. The fight of our partisan group from Bialystok, however, was quite different, because it was fought by us alone in the small forests around Bialystok, where there could be no “partisan zone” like further east because of the crossings of many main roads and railroad lines. We had to live in small groups and be ready to fight every minute against the Germans, who often ambushed us because they knew our “forces” and understood that 150 or 200 Germans would be enough to stand against us. The Russian groups that were with us in the woods also had better conditions than we did, because they had the contact with us to coordinate the fight against the Germans, but left the problems of general supplies to us. We had the duty to supply all the Jews who came to us from the ghetto with everything they needed. We were not allowed to go away and leave the woods, partly because of concern for the Jews, who had no weapons, and partly because of the contact with the city that our [female] comrades gave us in the form of cooperation with the P.P.R. Mostly it was us who fought the battles with the Germans.

Quite unexpectedly, one day the comrades we sent to the Russian groups with a request for help return; they bring two Russian comrades from the “Kalinin otryad” [Kalinin Military Cohort], Ele Varat and Marek. There is great joy among us, finally we have managed to get help! They tell us about the difficulties until they could reach us, after we had already moved to other places. They came to us with the task to ease our situation and to take some of our comrades to their forests. We designate 5 comrades to take with them

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and to whom they are to show the ways, because before winter comes, only one armed group is to remain here, for which they leave explosive material and give us instructions, which actions we are to carry out: blowing trains off the tracks, and collapsing bridges. They say goodbye to us and leave. We feel a little relieved, they have taken comrades without weapons and now we hope for help. After all, the explosive material to carry out our actions is already there.

 

The First Snow

In groups we divide further into different forests to get ready for the approaching winter. A group of 20 armed men goes to the Krinker forest to prepare provisions and pits and to give unarmed Jews the opportunity to winter there and to get some winter clothes, because most of them still go barefoot and without clothes. The nights are already frosty and at dawn everything is covered with thin ice. When we go to sleep, we keep waking up because the tips of our toes are already starting to freeze off. We wrap cloths around our feet, but that doesn't help either. So we walk around at night, and during the day the half-extinguished sun warms us. It sends us its rays like a great boon, as if to say: “Here you have a little warmth! Nature is visibly becoming our new enemy, and we have to be careful of her. I stay with 6 comrades in Budisk [Budzisk] forest and wait for the wounded to be brought to us, because we want to create a center at our place, where everyone should gather first. From there we will split up into other forests where groups of us are already positioned. We decide to celebrate on the day of the Russian October Revolution by cooking a better meal. This will be a real holiday that we have been preparing for so long because our fight with the Germans

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has taken everything away from us and forced us to move to other forests for a while. My comrade Datner and I are the ones who have to cook that day. We go to sleep because we were up all night to get to know the new forest and the surrounding population, to obtain the information necessary for us in relation to the movements of the Germans around us. On one side of the river Suprasl [Supraśl] we set up our camp, in the 11th “dzelyanke”, very close to the river, to be able to get water. On our side of the river is a small village of 15 houses, they stand at a great distance from each other, people live there quietly and go about their daily work. After being there in the forest for a while, we went into the village to introduce ourselves to the village elder and promise him various things on our part. We make friends with him and assure him that we will not perform “bomyashkes” in the village. In return, they should take care of taxation themselves and provide us with food as much as they can. At the same time they are to pass on to us any new news concerning the Germans. The village was small and mostly inhabited by poor peasants who had very little land at their disposal, so they all took care of us and pledged help. We behaved a little cautiously about their declaration of friendship and checked their attitude toward us for a long time until we were convinced of their complete decency. There was also a sergeant of the Polish army living there, who enjoyed great prestige among the surrounding peasants. He knew about everything that was happening in the whole area. When we gained complete confidence in him, he used to visit us in our “dzhelyanke” and inform us when we were in danger. The village of Dvozhisk [Dworzysk] came in really useful for us in hard times.

It's getting a little warmer, some rays of sunshine sneak up to us through the countless trees and say, “we are already the last messengers of summer for you, take the opportunity and

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slumber a little!” We do indeed, and after a discussion in which two opinions emerge, namely that the village can be fully trusted - or that we should be rather cautious, we set two guards and go to sleep. Our feet we stretch to the ashes of the fire, maybe they will not freeze, so we can take a nap.

Either I was asleep, or I was lying there restlessly as usual, opening my eyes from time to time and seeing that everyone else continued to lie there tightly covered, in any case I heard a comrade calling for me: “Kot, stavay! (Kot, get up!)”. I pick myself up and it becomes dark before my eyes, that is, I mean actually, it becomes light! I am lying there completely covered with snow and all the comrades next to me are white from snow that fell on us while we were sleeping. We did not notice anything. It got maybe a little wet while lying, but who makes a big fuss about it, is it perhaps a rarity that it is wet? Now we are even more separated from everything. We can't take a step outside, everything is cut off from us at once, there is still so much work for us to do, and then there is this snow! We can't even fetch water or cook anything. What bad luck, we collect snow together with mud from the earth, try to melt this on the fire so that we have water; and from the leaves and the earth together with the snow that fell, we cook our holiday lunch in honor of the October Revolution. One can well imagine the taste of this lunch, because the water was black and stank. But the other comrades said that I had cooked excellently, one should send such a lunch to an exhibition.... No way to clarify the water. We console ourselves that the first snow will melt and then we can organize. Meanwhile, we agree not to sit idly but to build a “zemlyankle”, that is, a cottage for the winter, because in winter we can no longer live on the earth as in summer. We decide to dig a pit from three to 4 square meters. The height should be 180 cm. We cut young trees and

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position them around the walls and as a roof so that no sand is poured in. [We construct] an opening to go out, a special place by the door for the weapons and a small stove made of clay; in the middle comes a cot made of young trees. When you lie down on it, the knots of branches sting you all over your body. While we were building the mud hut, the snow thawed a little. Immediately we decided to take advantage of the weather as soon as possible and bring the wounded comrades from the other woods to us, as well as to arrange the other groups because of the early onset of winter. But how we are surprised to learn that the five we sent out with the Russian comrades, as well as our comrades who had come to accompany them, return only halfway. They met Germans, had a fight with them and could not continue the way. The snow had betrayed their tracks and they had to come back and stay with us for the time being. From that military cohort, they then went to us alone on another trail, where they could not take comrades without weapons. So we continue to stay with more comrades; with the wounded we are a group of 20 men in our “dzhelyanke”. The snow continues to fall and we remain sitting in place wondering what happened to the rest of our comrades who moved to the Krinker forest to ease our situation.

 

The Further Life

Every day new snow falls, no trace that it was once summer. The birds have already left us, even those who already knew us and always came at noon, only to grab a piece of meat and flee from the kitchen when the cook just turned to the side as if he did not see it.

At night we cook food. Every day the portions are getting smaller,

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because the snow is getting higher every day We already eat nothing solid and no more salt, just a little water with barley that we grind every day from rye. We have to look for a single barley with ten eyeglasses to find it in the so-called “soup”. All day long we sit around, huddled together because of the frost, and at night, when we start cooking the food, we warm ourselves on the wood, of which we have enough. Every night we cut down a pine tree and burn it. Our eyes burn from the smoke that rises from our stove, and often it is so smoky that we can't see each other even though we are all so close together. When one of us wants to turn around, he has to tell the other, “Khayim, move back a little, I want to turn around...”.

Five comrades are busy cooking. Two chop wood all night, one watches, and two scrape snow into buckets so we have water. Those who have no place [on the cot] sleep during the day, while the others go on watch or walk from one wall to another to warm their feet.

As for laundry, we've agreed that it's one person's turn every three weeks. Every morning everyone shakes out dozens of lice. As for the question of lice, we have already become regular philosophers, dividing them into different groups. However, we wondered what they actually live on, when we ourselves are starving. All comrades begin to develop ulcers, and no sooner has one healed than the next soon follows in the same place. We don't have any medication, our doctor talks about “hygiene”, but we sleep one next to the other, no matter whether healthy or sick, and so we are already laughing at his theories. Finally, our wounded heal completely without medicines and diets. The best cure would have been if they had food. We have no news from anyone. The Russian groups are not coming back either; even if they wanted to come, it would not be possible because of the snow. Little by little we run out of everything. One cigarette must be enough for 20 men. Everyone takes a drag, a smack with the lips, and passes the cigarette on; and already there are no cigarettes left either. We collect oak leaves, dry them from

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the snow and smoke them rolled up in a newspaper. During the day we do not consume a single match to light a cigarette, because we have few matches left to make fire. Days and weeks go by like this. The snow pours more every day.

 

New Year 1944

Heavy snowstorm. Snow and wind swirl around, the fire goes out and all the smoke is on us. For three hours already we've been trying to get some water boiling, and it hasn't even warmed up yet. The comrades ask one after another: “What about the food? It's New Year's Day. The cook promised a holiday meal!” “There is cleaner water! New snow has fallen!”, someone jokes, and a second remarks: “How long has it been since I drank clean water? Certainly quite a few months before the last visit to the village, and there also only from a well; from a tap we have not drunk for almost a year!”

While we are sitting there talking about various things, suddenly five comrades, completely covered with snow, come in to us from a second site seven kilometers away, where 15 comrades have set up with the commander, and inform us that the commander and they have decided to take advantage of the heavy snowstorm that will cover the human footprints. One could certainly go to our familiar village to get food and take advantage of the New Year's Eve when the Germans get drunk and are not careful in the forest. A discussion starts whether we should leave, because the heavy snowfall could stop within minutes, and then everything would be lost. What should we do? Each one says his opinion, but the hunger greatly influences the opinions of the comrades and we decide to go to the village of Dvozhisk [Dworzysk], which is 7 kilometers away from us. The weapons are quickly cleaned and ten of our comrades leave. Heaven and earth intermingle, the wet snow slaps

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your face and it takes your breath away. The snow reaches to the belt, everything around us is white, you can recognize absolutely nothing. Near the village we can already see light in the huts, and when we imagine how warm and cozy it is now in the rooms, it warms our hearts.

We set up a few posts and go to the village. This time the dogs don't bark as usual, because in such weather it would be a sin even to drive dogs out. We go to the house of the village elder. Around his table, as usual, the peasants are sitting drinking liquor and talking politics. When we come in, they are happy and immediately ask how we can stand it in this weather. But we don't want to stay long and leave the village as soon as possible, not risking the stop of the snowstorm. We inquire about the frequent shootings we hear in the forest. We are told that the Germans go outside to find human tracks in the snow and recently encountered a Russian group. It was attacked and there were many casualties on both sides. They [in the village] thought that something had happened to us too and were happy to see us back in one piece. He determines which houses we may go to get food and we leave his house. The village is noisy with singing and shouting lingering from the houses, to welcome the new year. In every house we enter, it is bright and cheerful, everyone sits there wishing that the war had never been and so many people had to bleed for it. However, the village only dimly feels all the tragedy of the world. The arrival of us, snowed in and frozen as we are, startles them a bit and interrupts their quiet gathering. Our weapons and looks penetrate them and create consternation, they feel a little guilt or a sense that they are just sitting and having a good time, right in the center of the events.

The cold that penetrates us through the open door freezes their faces and there is an expression of guilt in them for sitting there and not going to defend themselves. They bring us

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the news that the Red Army entered and took already the first town of the former Poland, Sarne [Sarny], and that we will soon be liberated. We do not want to leave the room. The warmth envelops us and reminds us of normal life. But there is no time to think; we open the sacks, pour in what is meant for us and leave the village. When we are already several kilometers away from the village, suddenly the snowstorm stops and we stop abruptly and exchange glances with each other. Our footsteps from the village to the forest are visible like a main road, we must not take one more step! We already know, each for himself, that tomorrow the dogs will be with us—the Germans; that's for sure. We feel even heavier, what to do now? How can we walk when every footstep indicates where we are? Instinctively, everyone reaches for his weapon and checks his rifle. There is silence—several minutes in the dark whiteness of the forest—until someone calls out: “We all go to one of our positions so that when they come, they will only go there and other locations of our group will not be betrayed as well. We send three comrades to bring food to another group and tell them to be ready to fight, everyone else goes to one position!” Without discussion we carry the food and every step in the forest on the white snow threatens a piece of life and makes our looks colder and more piercing. I am one of the three men who go to the second location, but we do not have to wait long and as soon as it becomes daylight, we hear heavy shooting and counter-shooting already in the forest. We know immediately that our group is already there fighting with the Germans. The other comrades, who had come after the meal together with the commander, had immediately packed up and set up a post to watch the path that led through the whole forest to their “dzhelyanke”. He was instructed not to shoot at the Germans from his post, but only to report when he saw them coming. As soon as he stood, he saw them following the steps to the [partisan] place, but he could not count them. The commander immediately orders to divide into two groups; one in

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one direction, and the second in the other. Seven men go with the commander, Shepsl Borovik; and the remaining 15 comrades, together with a comrade from the city, Malke Vyezhebitski, [Wiersbitzky?], who had joined us in the winter, in a second direction. The Germans went hunting on the trail of the smaller group with the commander, pursuing them for a whole day.

Fighting until late evening, they [the partisans] lost 6 comrades and the commander. One of them managed to save himself. Among the Germans there were two dead. One comrade spent two days in the forest and knew that he was not allowed to go to any group because every step he took was visible and could kill the whole group he was going to. But the hunger and the cold forced him to go to a forester who lived in the forest and ask for food. The latter gave him some, but sent his wife out the back door to report it to the Germans. The Germans arrived, surrounded the house with weapons, arrested [the comrade] and took him alive to Suprasl [Supraśl] to their staff, tortured and beat him to make him betray the places where the partisans were. However, he did not betray them. They then dressed him in German clothes, gave him the finest of food and drink, promising him that they would let him live if he told them whether he had been in the village and whether the village elder had given them food. They brought in the village elder and arranged for a lineup. He [the comrade], however, kept a combative attitude and announced that he absolutely did not know him and was seeing him for the first time. Thereupon the German said to the village elder: “The Jew saved you and the whole village, because I know for a fact that you gave him food!”

When they realized that they could not get anything out of him, they tried a last resort. They led him into the forest to show where [the partisans] lived. However, he led them to other places, far away from the right one, and they shot him. That's how heroically our comrades fought, each one of them, in whatever situation they

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were, always showed heroism. The village appreciated this and continued to support us constantly and with even more confidence.

The remaining groups stayed in the forest until the snow thawed a little and then joined a group that lived in the Suprasl [Supraśl] Forest, however, everyone had to live standing up there because there was nothing to lie down on. Only the little bit of food that was frozen from being carried around for so long saved them. In winter, one could not look for a new site and had to continue living under these conditions. The snow that fell every day isolated us. After New Year's Day, we received no news from any of the surrounding groups spread out in the woods about their situation. However, every morning we heard new gunfire from the Germans in the surrounding area, who went around looking for our whereabouts; for in the village where we were at New Year's Day, a guest found himself with a girl, the son of the miller from Myendzhizhetsh [Międzyrzecze], and he revealed to the Germans that we had been in the village, which voluntarily paid us taxes in the form of food. (We learned about this only later).

The food we brought from the village did not last long; we did not even talk about going out again to get more. The snow does not thaw and every day it is the same program: early in the morning the roosters would crow from the village (because of the silence of the forest it can be heard very far), and in the noon hours there are shootings. Our constant hunger, which does not want to disappear, but becomes stronger and stronger, forces us to think about how to go on. We have to go out! After all, there are often snowstorms! But we don't want to say it out loud, too many sacrifices our walk has cost us at that time. We elect comrade (Kole) Nyome Kirzhner as commander, in place of our deceased commander Shepsl Borovnik. Anyway, without us changing anything [in the planning], nobody

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wants to take responsibility for the instruction [to go outside]. We discuss everything, everyone has their say. As always, it's evening and we have to heat up and cook smaller and smaller portions that you don't even want to look at after sharing; in the end it's just sometimes a little less water and sometimes a little more, it doesn't matter. After the meal, we really get an appetite. It would be better not to eat. That's why we've already gotten out of the habit of waiting for dinner to cook. We comrades lie there and get ulcers on our bodies. One gets well, three others get sick. The doctor doesn't even look at us anymore, what should he look at if we have no medicine. We try to find a way out, and after a week of discussion we decide that four comrades should go out and cover their footprints with snow behind them. The four comrades are to go to a village, take a horse there, which will be killed later to provide us with food, but also to make people think we are going far away. Of necessity, most of the comrades agree, and those who are destined go. They return immediately, however, and report that the small bridge across the river that we used to cross has broken apart, apparently caused by the ice. We cannot cross it.

So yet another problem, now what? We continue to think and discuss.  Comrade Motl Tshremoshne, a carpenter, suggests we build a raft and swim across. We saw off trees and tie them together with rags of torn clothes. We carry them to the river and twist two ropes, one pulling from one side of the river, the second from the other. So we put our comrades across to the other side. I, with the machine gun, am to go last. The raft is covered with ice; it is such a strong frost that every little bit of water that splashes onto the raft immediately freezes into ice. As soon as I step on the raft, I slip and, together with the machine gun, fall into the river. They pull me out, completely frozen. I first put the machine gun on the raft to get it across alone, and after that it is easier for me to get across to the other side. Two comrades

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leave me the task of hiding the raft well to come back on it. We now have to walk 15 kilometers to get to the designated place. The snow is up to our necks in some places, steam rises from everyone's clothes, but we all feel such a great responsibility to complete the task that we force ourselves with the last of our strength to move forward.

Late at night we reach the village. Darkness around us, single, scattered and snow-covered huts, only the chimneys look out. We knock, a peasant in underpants comes out, opens and is immediately frightened: “In this weather, with weapons, from where?” We don't let him think long, ask him for the key to the barn and a lamp. He goes out with us, we take his horse and tell him that he will get it back tomorrow, as always. We lead the horse halfway into the woods, kill it and divide it up for the sacks of our comrades. We leave a remnant. At dawn we return to our location. The comrades are already waiting impatiently, and when they learn that everything went exactly as we had decided beforehand, they are very pleased. Soaked as we came, we stay the whole day, and none of us who left coughed even once! One of them calls out, [referring to me]: Now, after I fell with all my things into the river and froze to a piece of ice, then walked such a long distance, marched back and everything was in the best order afterwards, he understands why the wild animals in the forest do not need a doctor. Everyone is happy, we already have food for three weeks, pure horse meat! So the weeks drag on and the winter has us firmly in its grip, always in the worst conditions. Full of energy to fight, we unfortunately do not have the opportunity to use our weapons; but our courage and devotion to each other increase greatly. The conversations we have among ourselves fill us with satisfaction; there is no comparison with the leadership of the ghetto, which was the opposite of our attitude! They are the same Jews, from the same city, and yet they are different in every way.

 

Author's footnotes:

  1. Her real name is not known. She came from Warsaw and was one of the first to organize the resistance movement in Bialystok. She fell during the uprising, on September 16, 1944, in the Bialystok ghetto. Return
  2. “Bombyazhke” was the name the partisans used to give to encircling a village with weapons at night, taking necessary food and clothes. Return
  3. “dzhelyanke”= that's what we called a part of the forest where one of our groups was located. Each “dzhelyanke” had a number, which served us as an orientation point where a group was positioned. Return

 

Translator's footnotes:

  1. A note by Dr. Tomek Wisniewski:
    “On the corner of Rynek Kościuszki and Zamenhofa Street was a short fragment of street, nicknamed Awnet street (but its official name was Zamenhofa Street)—Awnet was the owner of a famous short grocery and bakery.” https://www.jewishbialystok.pl/T._Aron_Awnet,5400,4869 Return
  2. It can be assumed that her name was Yudita Vogrudska (Judith Nowogrodzka), see Forverts, page 7 https://www.nli.org.il/en/newspapers/frw/1958/02/04/01/article/48/?srpos=8&e=-------en-20--1--img-txIN%7ctxTI-%d7%99%d7%a6%d7%97%d7%a7+%d7%9e%d7%90%d6%b7%d7%9c%d7%9e%d7%a2%d7%93-------------1]
    and see https://jewishcurrents.org/may-24-judith-nowogrodzka-bialystok-ghetto Return
  3. literally “bretl, small bord”, but I think that the “bershtl”, the brush he carried, is what is meant Return

 

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Yizkor Book Director, Lance Ackerfeld
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Updated 21 Feb 2023 by LA