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I was born in Przytyk. After the end of the sixth grade, I began to help my parents in the butcher shop. When I gained more self-realization, I joined Beitar and became active in various fundraising campaigns. However, I gave from my own pockets more than I collected from others, for I had the means to do so. Due to my energy and boldness, they always put me in charge of various academies and meetings, because the inter-party struggle was very sharp with us, especially on the Jewish street.

In 1929, I was drafted to the Polish Army. I, like perhaps one in a thousand Jewish soldiers, was assigned to the border guard K.O.P. (Korpus Ochrony Pogranica). I served at the Soviet border near Tarnopol.

When I returned from the army, I opened my own butcher shop and earned well. Once, when I was in the butcher shop near Hershel's soda-water factory, I noticed how the sequestrator Salwo was dragging and pushing Mrs. Lewental near the well in the middle of the street, and she fell down. My blood boiled, and I threw the sequestrator down on the ground with one blow. When he stood up and took out his revolver, I grabbed the weapon from him before he was able to shoot. They immediately arrested me and sent me to Radom under arrest. After a great deal of intercession and monetary payments, I was freed after 48 hours.

In 1934, I went out to the forest with a group of Jews of Przytyk to catch a bit of fresh air. It was Saturday after the meal. Suddenly, the landowner (poritz) from Oblis, an anti-Semite, arrived, accompanied by a forest watchman and a large dog, and took the coat and hat from Baruch Eizman's wife. They were sitting calmly with a child in a wagon. He also tried to take things from Feiga Frajdman, Itche's sister, who came to me and asked for help. I went to the landowner and asked for the things back. Instead, he stuck out his hands and also wanted to take my hat. I

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flung him to the ground, and the forest watchman and the dog fled in great fear. I took back the things he had taken and returned them to the Jews. We left the forest.

The poritz immediately reported this to the police, and I had to leave the town. Thanks to the tinsmith Zuchalc, who covered the roofs for the poritz, he dropped the matter. When he would see me, he would slap me over the shoulders and mention what type of a beating I had given him.

In 1935, I became acquainted with a girl from Radom, Miriam Gryncwajg. We wrote a marriage agreement. I sold my butcher shop in Przytyk and moved to Radom. There, I opened a butcher shop and earned well. I got married and lived in Radom until the ghetto was created there.

In 1941, my younger brother who was freed from prison in Sieradz came to me. He had spent five years there for taking part in the defense during the Przytyk pogrom. He was afraid of returning to Przytyk. I sent him to a village, to the Volksdeutche Muller from Małęczyn, a good acquaintance of mine, with whom I had always done business until the war. I asked him to provide me a bit of food in the ghetto. Instead of helping me, he informed the Germans that I was a wealthy Jew. Two armed Volksdeutche came to the ghetto and started asking about me. At that time, I was standing with a group of Jews in the yard of 5 Żytnia, where I was living. Seeing the Germans, the Jews fled, and I remained. They asked me where Kirszencwajg lives. I showed them the window on the first story, and wanted to leave. However, they did not leave me alone, and ordered me to go with them to show them the dwelling. At the end, I admitted to them that I was Kirszencwajg. They beat me to the point of bleeding, put me in chains, and led me to the Planty where the S.S. command was located.

There, they beat me so much that my entire body became swollen. From there, they sent me to prison on Warszawer Street, where I found my brother and other Przytyk Jews: Yankel Miler, Naftali Berkowic, and others. They beat us every day. Every night, they took

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a group of Jews and led them out. We never knew to where they were being taken.

I remained in prison in that manner for four weeks. One night, they took out about 800 Jews, bound their hands, and loaded them on trucks, 80 people to a truck. We sat one on top of the other, and did not know where we were traveling. One thing was certain: they were taking us to be shot. The vehicles finally stopped. We stood for several hours and heard constant shots, waiting for our turn. Suddenly we heard the whistle of a locomotive. A train arrived, and they stuffed us into the wagons aboard along with the corpses. We traveled an entire night without food, water, or air.

The train stopped in the morning. After waiting for an hour, S.S. men stood on both sides. They opened the wagon, and shouted us to descend. We jumped off the wagons under beating from rods and sticks. Many fell dead on the ground. Among the dead, I recognized the two Finkelsztajn brothers from Radom, both butchers, the butcher Yosef Kirszenbaum, Velvel the Shochet, and Shlomo Apel (a merchant with the nickname “Pomp”). I breathed lighter when they brought us into Auschwitz.

After a few days, I found my wife's brother Yona Gryncwajg. We wept like young children. I asked about my family, but he did not know anything, for he was captured and sent to Auschwitz after my arrest. They sent me and my brother-in-law to very hard labor – carrying bricks, running, and spreading them over the bogs. This was all accompanied by beatings with rods and sticks, for we had to pass through something like a harrow every time we had to go back and forth to work. With great despair, when my brother-in-law could no longer hold up, I gave him energy with the German proverb, “If you lose your courage, you lose everything.” For anyone who fell would no longer stand up. Only thanks to my strong energy and will did he not fall down under the beating.

Then my brother-in-law was taken to work in his trade, as an electro technician. Under the protection of a Pole, he brought me to him as an assistant. There, I breathed a bit lighter. The Pole was

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content with me, because I brought him the telephone poles and wires without knowing any rest. I worked in this fashion until September 1942.

During the time of a selektion, they led me and others to a coal mine near Katowice. There, I found Yaakov Miler from Przytyk. I did not see my brother-in-law Gryncwajg anymore.

They led us to the mine on foot, under a convoy, ten kilometers back and forth – with song and musical tact. Whoever did not place their feet correctly or did not sing loudly enough was taken out from the row and beaten to death.

We had to mine the coal in accordance with a quota set by the supervisor. If we did not meet the quota, we did not go back to the camp, but remained for the second shift, until the morning. My assistant was a 28-year-old Jewish lad from Belgium, Azriel Weiss. He was very pious. He did not eat the soup, but only the 200 grams of bread that we received daily. Of course, he could not meet the quota, and the Poles from Silesia, the A.G. Szlanzakes, beat him harshly, even more than the Germans did.

Since I received ten cigarettes a day for my good work, I bribed the supervisor, and he assigned the lad to me as an assistant. In this way, I literally saved his life. We held out together until 1945.

With the approach of the Ru1ssians, they evacuated us to Fernwald, Germany. Tens of thousands of people from various evacuated camps were gathered together there. They brought the following Przytykers there from France: Avraham Tobiasz, Shmuel Frajdman's son, Feiga-Chava's son-in-law, Leibish Bauman (Biadak) with his brother, and others whose names I do not remember.

They held us there for ten days without food or clothing. It is no wonder that a severe typhus epidemic broke out, affecting thousands of people. The Germans said that the illness was doing their job, for they did not have to gas or shoot the Jews. We were not allowed to go around freely in the camp. Everyone was closed up with the cohort with which they had arrived.

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Ten days later, they gathered the healthy people and sent them to a place not far from Neumark, where the Germans had set up new ammunition factories in the caves in the hills. We had to clear the stones. It was hard labor. There, the Przytyker David Ryba came to me and introduced me to his friends from France, “This is Chaiczak (My Przytyk nickname), the young man from Przytyk who saved many Jews from death in the coal mines in Auschwitz.”

Later, they brought in another transport, which included Pinchas Szwajcer, Itzik Kurant's son-in-law. I wept greatly and told him, “I am already lost, I will not get out of this hell, but it is a shame for you.”

After three months, a command came for us to move on. We were again prodded on by foot, and anyone who sat down for a bit was immediately shot. Being exhausted from going so long without food or drink, I wanted to die. I sat down and waited for the column to end and the guard to shoot me. In the meantime, Hershel Teper came to me. He was carrying the food for the S.S. men in a wagon. He helped me stand up and gave me encouragement that the liberation was not too far off now.

We arrived at the Theresienstadt Camp in Czechia. I was sick for the entire two months. In the meantime, we were liberated. The camp was taken over by the Czech Red Cross. They took me to a hospital. My Przytyker friends went back to Poland in the interim. They did not forget me, and when they heard that I had recovered, they came to take me home.

When I got back, I was carrying a large bag of clothing and food given to me by the Red Cross. When we arrived at the Radom station, the Poles wondered, “So many zhidkes still remain!?” They shamelessly took from me all the best things and products. All the Przytykers resided on 27 Lubliner Street, and we lived like one family, headed by Rachme Krengel of blessed memory. Nobody wanted to return to Przytyk, even though the anti-Semitism was strong in Radom as well.

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One night, the murderers from the A.K. [Armia Krajowa] entered house number 21, three houses from us, and slit the neck of a Soviet captain with a knife. The captain was a Jew with a Jewish spouse, whom he had just married a few hours earlier. A terror overtook us. Nobody wanted to remain in Radom anymore. We set on our way. Some of us remained in Poland, and some crossed the border to Germany and France.

I went to Germany to search for my family. I found my sister's son Mordechai Cohen (today in Israel), in Feldafing. He worked there in a forest, cutting down trees, with only food for payment. I immediately took him with me and did not let him work so hard.

In 1946, I met a woman from Łódź, from the Gelbart family. After the establishment of the State, I went to Israel with my wife and nephew.

When the Second World War broke out, I was with my sister and brother-in-law in a very large rented orchard. Several guards worked there. One of them escaped, for he was a German spy.

When the Germans were already nearby, we wanted to return home. We set out with a horse and wagon. It was a very dark night. When we arrived at a forest, people began shooting. The horse got terrified and overturned the wagon. We were afraid to travel onward, so we returned to the orchard. There was a hut there in which we had lived, but when we returned, it had been taken over by refugees who were escaping from Łódź to Warsaw. They entered the orchard and lay down to sleep in the hut. I remained seated on the wagon.

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The shooting got stronger. I was afraid that a bullet would find me. I went to the guard of the house, and spent the night there. Germans were driving in their vehicles and shooting all night. Anyone on a route was killed.

Germans came in the morning to search for weapons. They did not find anything, and they left. Christians from the area and passers-by entered the orchard and tore down all the apples. The trees were left empty. My brother-in-law was greatly distressed, for the gigantic orchard yielded only one basket of apples for him. It cost him thousands of zloty. He was left a poor man.

Afterward, I went home to Przytyk. The situation of the Jews was very bad. A Volksdeutsche, a house painter, was the head of the town. He tortured and beat the Jews. Every day, new decrees were contrived against the Jews. The Germans did not need to do the work of persecuting the Jews on their own – the local Poles were trustworthy helpers. I recall how a Pole once came to me and said, “You Jews will all be slaughtered.”

At one point, many Jews were taken and gathered in the market. The elderly ones with beards were selected, given guns, and ordered to run. Along the way, they were beaten and mocked. This took place in accordance with the instructions of the Hitlerists who had arrived on motorcycles. Pinchas Komasznik was so badly beaten that blood flowed. All the Jews were forced to stand and watch them torture him.

We lived along the route. German tanks, vehicles and heavy artillery drove by day and night. I could not sleep at night due to their noise. During the day, they went through the houses and dragged people to labor. I lived in great terror. I decided to escape somewhere so as not to see the tribulations. Thanks to my brother (today in America), he and I left the town together and set out for the Russian border. We also endured a great deal there, but we saved our lives.

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I was born in Przytyk. My parents later went to Łódź. My father was in the feather business. I learned how to make socks, and worked at that. Since the sock branch was organized by the left-leaning Poalei Zion, I joined their organization, even though I had received a religious education in a Beis Yaakov school.

After Łódź was taken by the Germans, and knowing that the wartime situation would be more serious in the big city than in smaller places, I returned to our town. Since our home was rented to Yankel Miller, I had to move to my grandfather's house. We suffered an entire difficult winter in that manner in great crowding, and without a livelihood. In the spring of 1941, they expelled us all from the town. We went to Wolanów, about 12 kilometers from Przytyk. There, I met my husband Mordechai Kuperwas, a merchant, and we got married. The wedding was very modest. The ceremony was conducted by the Shochet of Przytyk, Hershel Zalcszirer.

After spending a year in Wolanów, they sent us to the Sczolkow. We could travel to the ghetto in Szydłowiec, however my brother and husband worked in the farm, therefore we all went there. We worked very hard in the Sczolkow Camp. We were employed in a German building firm until 1943. Later, they sent my husband and brother away from them.

In the fall of 1943, they sent all the slave laborers from the farm camp to Bliżyn near Skarżysko. We were starving there, and worked under very difficult conditions at various military workshops, preparing uniforms, shoes, boots, woolen sacks, gloves, etc.

Due to the impossible conditions, a severe typhus epidemic broke out, affecting 50% of the workers. My sister Hynda and I also became ill with typhus. They took us to the hospital, where the Jewish doctors and nurses literally sacrificed themselves to save us. However, they were helpless, because the Germans did not provide any

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medicine. Only those with a strong constitution survived the crisis. They sent us to Auschwitz after a year of torment in the terrible labor camp. My father, who worked there as a shoemaker, had been sent earlier to the Poltowa Camp.

I arrived in Auschwitz with my mother and sister. We met many Przytykers and Wolanówers there. They told us that my husband had escaped from the Strachowiczer Camp, but they did not know where he was.

We wandered about with nothing to do in the Auschwitz women's camp. I also met my brother Yisrael in Auschwitz.

Smoke spewed out of the three crematoria chimneys. We waited for our turn. Our mother and several other older woman and young children, whom they did not yet get around to burning, were held isolated in closed barracks. On the other hand, we were able to wander through the camp.

After being in Auschwitz for five months, they began to send off transports with young people. Nobody knew to where. Even though the Germans said that we were being sent to work, my sister and I hid the entire time, because we wanted to be together with our mother. However, we were taken to the train with the last transport, after undergoing a selektion by the infamous Dr. Mengele. After about two weeks, we arrived in the small town of Scharfstein in Saxony. There, we worked in an ammunition factory under very difficult conditions. We were always hungry and tired. We worked ten hours per day. It was fortunate that our barracks were close to the factory, for we would not have had the energy to go.

After working there for seven months, the front was coming very close, and the bombs were already falling in the town. They evacuated us once again. We traveled by train for a long time without food, until Theresienstadt. While we were still in quarantine at the end of April, we already heard the echoes of the last battles fought by the remnants of the defeated German Army.

We were liberated by the Russians on May 9. After the liberations, we went about like living corpses – sick, broken, alone. The Czech Red Cross had a difficult time to get us back on our feet, with a bit of clothing and shoes. We met many Przytykers there: Yankel Miller – our former neighbor; Esther Haberberg with

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her sister Rachel (nicknamed Kukia); Malka Frajdman and her sister Shifra; Sara-Lea Kurant with her sister Rachele and her husband Pinche Szwajcer.

After recovering a bit, we all went to Poland to find out whether anyone succeeded in surviving. We met our mother with some other older women in Radom. Reizel Kurant was among them. Miraculously, the Germans had not succeeded in burning them. My mother told me that my husband survived the war after escaping and joining the partisans. He was now in Warsaw serving in the militia. I immediately set out for Warsaw. My husband was freed from the militia. After spending six months in Radom, we went to the German Feldafing Camp. From there, we made aliya to Israel in 1949.

My family were butchers by trade. Everyone in the city knew my father, Yitzchak Teper, with his affable smile. They called him Yitzchak Wyszbicer. He would gladly do favors.

I was a child when the pogrom took place in the town in 1936. Nevertheless, I recall the events until this day. It was Saturday night, and people were saying that many peasants from the villages were coming to kill Jews. However, our Jews were preparing to mount a resistance, led by Leizer Feldberg, Yosef Kirszencwajg, Yitzchak Frajdman, and my father. The peasants didn't come that evening. The pogrom began on Monday. The peasants attacked the Jewish shops, broke windows, and threw stones. The death of the Minkowskis and the arrest of the Jews left a great impression upon me as a child.

My father suddenly died on the 18^th of Tammuz, 1937. The entire yoke of supporting the family fell upon my mother and my brother Moshe (today in

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Canada). At that time, the law against Jewish ritual slaughter was passed. We suffered greatly from this, for our livelihood was from the meat business.

* * *

When the war broke out and the Germans entered the town, they completely forbade kosher slaughter of meat. We indeed performed kosher slaughter at home and sent the meat to Radom. Once, when my mother was bringing meat to our place, she heard that they were conducting searches along the way. She had to get off the wagon. She got stuck in a wheel and broke her foot. They had to amputate her foot and fit her with a prosthesis.

Adding to the tribulations, the Germans decided to make an airstrip in our town, so they deported all the Jews to Białobrzeg. There, it was strictly forbidden to do business with meat. We had a full-fledged meat business, and also a small mill to mill meal. People reported on us, and the gendarmes entered, conducted a search, and found meat. My brother Moshe had to flee. I presented myself at the gendarmerie instead of him. I was beaten soundly. They did not do anything to my mother, but they held me in jail for two weeks. The commandant threatened the death penalty, but I did not want to tell him where my brother was. I did not say, but they freed me because I was too young for a trial. They shot Yosef Kirszencwajg for smuggling kosher meat.

* * *

The Germans began to send Jews to various jobs. Some were sent to the ammunition factories in Radom. My brother Moshe was also transported to Radom. They sent me to work in the fields. I received beatings, for I was weak for such hard labor. Then they sent me to Radom, where my brother worked. Later, I was sent to Skarżysko, Hasag Work A^[1]. Mordechai Galczewski (today in Tel Aviv) also worked there. Then, they sent me to the Hasag Work Tz. death camp. There, the situation was extremely bad. I was already a Muselman^[2] there. I did not get any food, so I was beaten every day by the Germans and Ukrainians. I was included on the blacklist to be shot. However, I evaded that by hiding in the factory. When I entered

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the camp – I was lost. I spent a long time in the factory. A supervisor, a good Pole who had pity on me, gave me food. I was already swollen – my feet, my hands, my entire body.

A second time, at the time of a selektion, they selected me as a child to be shot. However, a German supervisor saved me and brought me to work.

Later, I was sent to a weapons factory in Raków near Częstochowa. There, the situation improved. The food and the work were better. The Jews and Jewish police used to help the workers.

I want to mention here a Jewish Kapo from Skarżysko Work Tz – Ajzenberg. He killed many people. He was worse than the Germans. During a deportation, he killed a mother and her daughter. The mother was approximately 60 years old, and the daughter, 17. They designated the mother to be shot. The daughter came to bid her farewell, and the Kapo attacked her with Ropnik, and they were both killed.

* * *

From Hasag, they sent me to Buchenwald. People fell like flies in that death camp. I had luck. They selected children of my age and held us in barracks for a few months. We received better food – more bread and soup. Then, they sent us to work in Kodlitz near Leipzig. I do not recall for how long I worked there. Suddenly, they took us and prodded us on foot an entire night. I understood that the war would soon end, for I saw that we were joined by many Germans who were hiding even among the refugees. They did not consider that their end was near, for the guards shot anyone who was escaping.

Two elderly Germans who guarded us had mercy on me, and selected me and another child to carry their wagon with belongings. Therefore, we received food from them. Along the way, I met Shaul Kirszencwajg. He was half dead. I comforted him that the war would soon end, and gave him something to eat. It made me very happy that I was able to help someone.

We arrived in Theresienstadt. There, we were held

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in quarantine for several days. The food was better, for the Red Cross concerned themselves with us and provided the products.

When we were liberated, many people were sick and died, for they ate too much. Shaul Kirszencwajg was also very sick. The took him to the Theresienstadt hospital. He remained there for a period, and recovered.

From Theresienstadt, I went to Poland to look for my family, but unfortunately, of the entire family, I only found my brother Moshe (today in Canada), my cousin Feigele Eidelbaum (in Canada), and my cousin Kubale (today in Ramat Gan).

Translator's Footnotes

1. See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HASAG. Return
2. See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muselmann. Return

When the Germans captured our town, they designated a local Volksdeutche housepainter as overseer of the Jews. He displayed great sadism. He snatched Przytyk Jews for labor, tortured them terribly, forced them to bathe in the river during the winter, and shot them on the spot for the minutest offence.

On a certain day there apparently was a slander against us. A truck with S.S. men drove to our house. They immediately went to the double wall where we had set up immediately at the outbreak of the war. All our merchandise and necessary clothing were hidden there. They took down the wall and took all of our belongings.

At the time of the liquidation of the town, we and other Przytyker Jews went to Skarżysko. We set ourselves in the new place with the last bit of means that we had in Przytyk. Father again started working as a tailor, but already without associates. He alone had to earn a livelihood for the entire family. The ready suits were purchased from us by the peasants

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in secret, for money or products. We lived, not badly, in that manner for approximately one year.

In 1942, the Germans surrounded the town, went from house to house, and removed all the men, including my father with his associate Yidel Goldszewski. They were all sent to the Kruzyn labor camp. The family was left in calm for a certain time. However, that same year, my mother, with two daughters and a son, were sent to Szydłowiec. We rented a dwelling from an elderly Jewish woman, and lived there until the holidays.

In the autumn, the Germans again made a raid in the town. They said that this was only for the young people. I was already a grown girl, appearing like 20 years old. My mother hid me in a bed covered with the mattresses, intending that they would not find me. The Germans stuck bayonets into the bedding, overturned everything on to the ground, and uncovered me. They ordered me to get out of the bed. As a punishment, they did not allow me to take warm clothing or food with me, and did not even let me say goodbye to my mother and sisters. I was fortunate that my mother succeeded in hanging a sack with money on my shoulders before going.

We, the captured people, were approximately 20 youths. They packed us into the local jail, and that same night, they prodded us on foot to Skarżysko. We arrived there at 2:00 a.m. They immediately took us to the baths. We noticed that approximately half of us were missing. They had stopped along the way, and they were shot on the spot.

They prodded us into the baths naked, men and women together. When we went to get dressed, we no longer found any of our belongings. Everything, including the money and jewelry, was taken.

Before entering the barracks, they placed the men and women separately for a roll call. A German, apparently the camp director, who we called the Hunchback, and the barracks elder – a Jew named Albert, warned us in German and Polish that we must follow the discipline. One warning would be given, and the second time one would not escape, for everyone would be shot.

The next day after the roll call, they took us under guard to the ammunition factory, and everyone was given work. I was given four machines to control the bullet casings. I had to throw away the rejected products

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and leave behind the good ones. Our division was called “Nowo Karabinowka” [New Rifles]. The quota had to be met within a 12-hour shift. There was one shift during the day and the other at night. If the quota was not met, we could not go back to the barracks, but had to stay for the next shift. For this reason, we had to help each other. (Nobody had to help me. On the contrary, I helped others.)

Food was meager. On account of my Orthodox education (I had studied in a Beis Yaakov school), under no circumstance was I able to put into my mouth the two soups that we received daily. I only ate the 200 grams of bread with margarine or marmalade. I did not know for how long I could hold out like that had it not been for the little bit of money I was able to save. Thanks to that I was able to purchase bread and potatoes from the Poles who worked in the factory and lived freely. These transactions took place very rapidly. However, it was quite bad when the money ran out. To my fortune, I knew the camp in which my father was located. With the help of the Pole Stempien, a machinist who was in control of my machines, I connected with my father, and he sent me money, products, and clothing. My father brought me things a few times, until the camp was liquidated and the slave workers were sent to Szydłowiec. There he lived relatively freely, working and doing business.

My father wanted to get me out (with the help of that same Stempien) from the camp and bring me to Szydłowiec, or to come himself to Skarżysko. I did not want my father to leave such a free life for my sake and come to the harsh camp in Skarżysko. Stempien even brought me clothing from his wife, as well as her document – and after work, I went into the closet, changed my clothing, and blended in with the Polish women who lived in the city. I was about to go out with them. However, when I arrived at the gate, some sort of secret force disgusted me, and I went back to the rows of Jewish women, and returned to the barrack. I tried this two times – and returned at the last minute. Finally, I returned the clothing and the document, and told the Christian that I do not have the energy to sneak away. A few days later, the terrible news reached me that all the Jews from Szydłowiec, including my father, were deported to

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Treblinka. The Germans deported my mother, my sister, and brother earlier, and they were also killed. Thus, I was the only one of my family left.

After that, my situation became much worse. Not paying attention to my aversion, I began to eat the non-kosher soup as well. I only gave the pieces of meat to my friends. I felt that my energy was leaving me. I began to serve in the night shift, washing the clothing for the Jewish police. In this way, I obtained a morsel of bread of a bit of soup. I also cleaned the men's barracks. In this manner, I had sufficient food. However, this weakened me greatly. I became ill with the typhus that was sweeping through the camp at that time. I was taken to the camp hospital where I lay unconscious for ten days. My situation was hopeless. My younger and healthier constitution evaded death, however. When I opened my eyes, I heard how the nurse said to the others, “See, the cholera still lives”^[1]. I was weakened to the extent that had it not been for the Przytyk girls who were together with me – Perl Baumoil, Feigele the daughter of Hersh Leib the butcher, Feigenu Shachna the daughter of the baker – who literally took me by the arms, I would not have survived. They led me to work, for it was very dangerous to remain in the barracks. At work, Stempien called me over to sit and warm up, while he himself did the work for me, as long as they did not notice a German supervisor entering. On the other hand, when I approached the Jewish police commandant, the Jew Teperman from Radom, asking him to give me something to wear, for I was dressed in rags, he listened to me patiently and said to the huge dog standing near him, “Mentsh, grab the dog and drag her to the camp.” When the dog jumped, threw me down, and grabbed me by the hair, I lost consciousness. When I came to, I was already in the barracks. Later, the sadist took me to the clothing warehouse and told me to wear whatever I wanted.

When the Russians approached, the Germans began to liquidate the camp. First, they liquidated the Jewish police. Among them was a Przytyker, who acted terribly to us, like a commandant.

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They arranged us in rows and loaded us onto trucks in the middle of the night. We had no idea where they were taking us. When they ordered us to get off, it was already day. We saw Jews wandering around on the street. They told us that we were in a factory camp in Częstochowa. There, we worked in an ammunition factory, with the same machines and products as previously. The accommodations were now much better. Each day, we received a half kilo of bread, and a thick potato soup, the likes of which we had never seen through the entire three years.There too, I had a side job in the kitchen, peeling and cleaning potatoes.

One day, I felt great pain in my right hand. I did not even know from where it was coming. I nevertheless tried to continue working, ignoring the pain. However, at night, I literally cried out in suffering. My German supervisor, Lespital, took me by force to the doctor, and said on the way, “Schvartze (that is what he called me), you have the chance to survive. You are young. Now, now – you will be freed. The Russians are approaching.” He treated me very well. He also helped our girls. Every day, he brought a package of food and placed it under the machine, each time for a different girl. He told the doctor that he worked at my machines.

The Jewish doctor Szperling looked at my hand. It was completely red, and there was a swelling under the arm, as large as an egg. The doctor said that I had a major infection, and only my healthy constitution could save me from blood poisoning. However, my hand must be amputated.

I knew that I had no chance of survival if my hand was amputated, for I would be immediately liquidated. I did not agree, and went back to work.

However, the suffering was so bad, that, one night, I went out to the gate and asked the armed German to shoot me, for I could no longer hold out. However, he, like my supervisor, told me that it would be a shame for a young girl to die, as the liberation is close. When I arrived at work in the morning, the supervisor again sent me to the doctor, and he remained

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at work in my place. That time, I agreed to let them amputate my hand.

The doctor put me to sleep and performed the operation. He removed a piece of infected flesh, and did not amputate my hand.

I spent a few days in the hospital. I then received a letter from my German supervisor stating that I must immediately leave the hospital, as there would be a selektion the following day ant it would be better if I would be at work. Thus I was saved from a certain death. The Russians liberated us on January 16, 1945.

I did not return to Przytyk, but rather remained working in a Russian hospital in Częstochowa. The chief surgeon, a Jew, was so happy with my work, that he wanted to take me with him to Russia. Then, I went to the American Zone of Germany. In 1946, I married a Przytyker, and we both made aliya to Israel.

Translator's Footnote

1. In Yiddish, the term cholera can be used as a curse. Return

About me and my family

The first important life steps of a Jewish child in a small town was in cheder. At the age of five, I went to the cheder of the elderly Motia the teacher, who was a relative of mine. Later, I studied at the Klwówer teacher (with the nickname Botszan). Still later, I studied with the best Przytyer teacher, Meilech, along with another six to eight of the best students, including the rabbi's son, Shalom of blessed memory, and, may he live, Shalom Honig. I also studied in the Folks School until the sixth grade, when we left for Warsaw.

My parents had a business in the center of the city for all types of merchandise, except for food. One could also obtain from us the all the Jewish and Polish newspapers published in Poland. Therefore, our store served as the social meeting point of almost all the intelligentsia and part activists of Przytyk. As they purchased a newspaper, they would also discuss and speak about all the important

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issues of the town as well as world politics. I overheard and also participated in the discussions. One could often find in our store Chaim Aharon Berkowicz and the Ryba brothers from the general Zionists; Yosef-Meir Zuchalc of blessed memory, the chairman of Mizrachi; and the activists from the Bund, Beitar, and the Communists.

My father was active in Mizrachi. He was the chairman for some time. He was an active participant in, and one can say the initiator of, the founding of the Tarbut School in Przytyk. My father brought in Shmuel Tikaczinski , from Zyrardów, a teacher and a scholar who was recommended by the central committee of Mizrachi in Warsaw. The Mizrachi had its own place, where they also held services on Sabbaths and festivals. My father was the prayer leader as well as the Torah reader. He led the Shacharit service on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Musaf was led by a Przytyker son-in-law Chaim Wafel of blessed memory, a “velvet young man”, who came to Przytyk to bring enjoyment to the worshippers with his sweet voice, as he brought in the newest tunes from the Modzitzer Rebbe.

My father also had a “hobby.” He was a scribe of Torahs, tefillin, mezuzot, and megillas. He made efforts to write a Torah scroll for the Mizrachi. Once, he was punished with seven days of arrest or a monetary fine for transgressing the tobacco monopoly. He preferred to sit [in jail] due to the difficult times. He took a piece of wood with him to jail, and he engraved (in miniature) with a pocket knife a human arm with a pointing finger, hollowed in the middle – literally a work of art. Incidentally due to the great protection he had from the police who were his customers, they permitted him to go home to sleep at night. He then decided to write a Torah scroll himself, and to use the carving as the pointer.

I remember like today the great joy and celebration in the town when they escorted the Torah scroll from our yard to the synagogue. There was music, twelve riders on white horses, and the chief celebrants under an ornamental canopy: the rabbi, the fine householders, the Mizrachi activists, who carried the Torah scroll, accompanied with dancing and prayers. The gentiles stared and asked: “Which wealthy person is making a wedding?” Even the non-observant youth, who never

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attended any houses of worship, stood on both sides of the street and watched the celebration with respect.

This began the 30 years during which my father was elected by Mizrachi as a representative of the Jewish community.

After the disturbances in the Land of Israel in 1929, the Revisionist path strengthened greatly among us in Przytyk. I, like a large proportion of the Jewish youth, joined Beitar. Two celebrations stand out for me from among the fine memories of that movement: 20 Tammuz – an academy marking Herzl's yahrzeit, and 11 Adar – Trumpeldor's yahrzeit.

Due to the difficult economic situation, the incessant persecutions of the Jewish merchants, and the high taxes, my parents liquidated the business in 1935 and moved to Warsaw. My father obtained work as a bookkeeper in a large commercial firm. I also studied in Tachkemoni. We lived in this manner in Warsaw until the ghetto was set up. Not wanting to enter the ghetto, my parents, along with the children, returned to Przytyk. At that time, I was in a forced labor camp in Biała Podlaska. After I was freed from the camp, I returned to Warsaw. When I became aware that the family had left for Przytyk, I traveled to them (as a person freed from the camp, I had a ticket).

I arrived in the town in November, and encountered a hopeless situation there. Jews wandered around without work and without livelihood. After Purim, the order came to leave Przytyk, for the Wehrmacht was going to create a military air base with a place for shooting practice in a 30-kilometer radius. Jewish and Christians from the surrounding villagers were evacuated to wherever they wanted to go. The Germans paid 100 zloty per person as compensation for leaving behind immoveable possessions. Our family left for Przysucha and lived with my father's brother.

We wandered about Przysucha without work. From time to time, the Judenrat demanded a certain contingent of Jews for forced labor. The first victims were the refugees, who had been deported from the surrounding area. I was sent to Deblin with a group of about a dozen Jews. There, we

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had to be in a closed camp. They registered us on the first day, and sent us to work on fortifications the next day. Since I had already tasted the taste of a camp in Warsaw, I did not think very much, and escaped with a group of three. We entered the city, and were told how we could get to Radom. We had to cross the Wisła, but crossing the bridge was dangerous because there was a German control. We hired a fisherman who transported us to the other bank in a boat. We went to my uncle Nota Lindenberg in Zwołen. With his help, we traveled to Radom on horse and buggy. There, everyone went to their relatives. I spent the night with an uncle, and the next day, I returned to Przysucha.

Along the way, we passed the small town of Wolanów. I liked that town. It was only 12 kilometers from Radom, and had only 40-50 Jewish families. It was close to a farm where the German military commandant was located. The base of the second airfield was two kilometers farther. We liked the fact that we could work and earn a livelihood in the farm.

Shortly after my arrival, I informed my parents that I had gone to Wolanów. At first, I went out with my younger brother Meir to work in the farm. When we were able to prepare a dwelling for the family, we brought them over. We did not live badly there, for we earned well at the various jobs in building and field work.

Things went along in this manner until 1942. Then, an edict was issues that all Jews of the General gouvernement must enter one of the four ghettos that had been created there, or one of the closed labor camps. TheSzydłowiec Ghetto was designated for us. We selected the Wolanówer farm, which had turned into a closed labor camp. There were twenty other Jews, families and individuals, with us there.

At that time, all the people slept in an attic of a large stable. Later, the manager of the farm gave us material, and in our spare time (a half day Saturday and Sunday), we built a clean barracks, which

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we partitioned; the larger part for families, and two separate rooms – one for boys and the other for girls.

In the farm, we worked outside and in the fields. On Sunday, we could visit our relatives in a military labor camp in Wolanów. We were accompanied by an armed Volksdeutsche – not out of concern that we might escape, but rather so that we would not touch anything along the way. Our work leader was the Volksdeutsche Franz Nedler. He treated us well.

Not caring that we had what to eat, whether products from the Janika German building firm or from the manager of the field work, such as bread and potatoes without quota, my father did not want to remain on the farm, but rather wanted to be among Jews in the ghetto. When they conducted a selektion of non-productive people in the farm, my father, mother, and two sisters were transferred to the Szydłowiec Ghetto. My brother and I remained to work on the farm.

However, we strongly desired to bring our family back. One Sunday, we traveled to the Szydłowiec Ghetto by coach, accompanied by a Volksdeutsche, and brought out my father. Due to a lack of space, we could not take the entire family. My mother and two sisters remained in the ghetto. After some time, my brother traveled again to bring my mother and sisters, but he arrived exactly at the time of the liquidation of the ghetto. Had it not been for the Volksdeutsche who accompanied him, he would have been sent to Treblinka with all of them.

My father did not work in the farm. He was designated as a glassmaker, and we, both sons, covered for him. As the holidays approached, he again began to demand that we send him to Przysucha, where there are still some Jews. He would voluntarily submit to the difficult work that would be needed to manage in Przysucha. They sent him there. He remained there, and was killed along with all the Jews of Przysucha.

When we ended the building work in the Janika firm, all of us were transferred to the Wolanów military camp. Only the field workers remained in the farm. In 1943, an edict was issued that Jews must not be employed at any

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work other than the war industry. Therefore, we were sent to various labor camps of the war industry – to Skarżysko, Strochowice, and Ostrowiec, where the Hermann Göring Works were located. I was separated from my brothers. One was sent to Bliżyn, Meir to Ostrowiec, and I to Strochowice. Due to the difficult conditions in the Strochowice camp, I escaped from there to Ostrowiec, where my brother was. As I arrived there, however, I found out that he had been just sent to me in Strochowice.

I remained in Ostrowiec until the Russians approached Warsaw, and the Polish revolt began there. Then, they liquidated all the camps, and the people were sent to Auschwitz. There I worked in the Buna Works. Later, they brought my brother Meir there. He told me that our younger brother was also there in a child brigade in Auschwitz. They evacuated us from Auschwitz on January 18, 1945. We went to the city of Gliwice on the 20^th, and we saw our guards almost fleeing. We went away, some in cities, and others into forests.

The Russians arrived in the city on the 27^th, and we were liberated. I set out by foot to Częstochowa, and from there to Radom. After the murder of a Jewish captain of the Red Amy and a Jewish couple, I left for Łódź, and from there to Zabrze, Hindenburg. From there, I went to Zaltzheim in the American Zone of Germany. I arrived in Israel immediately after the establishment of the state.

I was born in Warsaw. I came to my grandparents in Przytyk, Chana and Yisrael Kurant, during my school period. There, I met my future husband Shlomo-Meir Brojtman. He came from a wealthy family. They owned a mill and other property. After the disturbances of 1936, which I

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endured with my grandparents in the very center of the market where the pogrom took place, A Jewish manufacturer from Łódź came to the community to take Jewish girls, who were at that time in a difficult economic situation, to work for him in his central kiosks in Łódź. I went to Łódź together with five or six other girls and worked as a cashier in a confectionary. I returned to Przytyk after a year and a half, and got married in February 1939.

* * *

I was with my parents in Warsaw at the time of the outbreak of the war. I quickly returned to Przytyk. A panic pervaded the town, especially among the Jewish population. People began to pack and set out toward the east.

The Przytyk police commandant knocked on my door one night. He asked if I could put up for the night two wives of Polish generals who had fled eastward, like all the refugees, with their own auto and a chauffeur. I agreed, and in the morning, they asked if I and my husband want to go with them. They were certain that the war would end quickly with the victory of Poland, and they would meet their husbands in Berlin.

The Germans entered Przytyk on September 9. Their first barbaric act was to set the synagogue and Beis Midrash on fire. They snatched men to repair the bridges that the Polish military had demolished as they retreated.

`Early in the morning of Tzom Gedalia^[1] our partner from the mill, Yosef Lenger, came and said that my husband will be going to the mill with him, where they could hide, for there, they will not snatch people to work. Along the way, they noticed a group of Germans coming in their direction. My husband immediately entered a small alleyway where he wanted to hide. As the witnesses stated, the son of the Volksdeutsche Rafka, who was designated by the Germans as the administrator of our mill, turned to my husband and called out: “This is the wealthy Jude Brojtman.” A German immediately raised his revolver and shot him on the spot. Thus, my husband was the first victim in Przytyk.

Since I was pregnant at that time, they did not want to give me the bad news. They only told me that my husband had been wounded. My brother-in-law

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did not allow me to go to see my husband. They buried him near his father.

When my mother heard of the great misfortune that had happened to me, she came from Warsaw and brought me to her. My child was born in Warsaw and was named after his father.

* * *

Due to the great hunger that pervaded in the Warsaw Ghetto, I returned to my grandmother in Przytyk. My grandfather had already been murdered by the Germans. I remained there until they expelled all the Jews. My grandmother, my child, and I went to Białobrzeg. From there, a Christian acquaintance from Przytyk brought me to my parents in the Warsaw Ghetto. Later, my mother and step-father were taken to Umszlagplatz^[2], and I remained with only my child. Thanks to acquaintances, I went to work in a “shop” on Zamenhof. After a general selektion in “shop,” they took all young children in our absence. When we came home, we did not find any children. I remained alone as a stone.

I no longer went to work in the shop, and I lost my rights of existence. Along with other so called “dziki” (wild) girls, I began to hide. We prepared a bunker on Kopiecka Street. When the Warsaw Ghetto uprising broke out, 16 of us were hiding there. After the suppression of the uprising, someone knocked on the door of our bunker and said, “I am a Jew, open up and give me a bit of water.” As soon as we opened the bunker, armed S.S. men entered and ordered us all to come up with raised hand. We went out, but one girl, LidaMakotowa, refused to go out, even though the Germans assured us that they would send us all to work. She said, “I do not want to work for the Germans.” They killed her before our eyes with a single shot.

We were prodded to Umszlagplatz, where we were held for three days in terrible conditions and torment. With beatings and curses, they loaded us on to sealed wagons and sent us to Majdanek. Two of the woman and a child jumped of the moving train along the way, after cutting the bars from the windows. I met one of them

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in Germany after the liberation. She survived the war by hiding in the forests.

After a few weeks, they transferred us from Majdanek to Auschwitz. I remained there until January 18, 1943. From Auschwitz, they transported us on foot in great cold to Ravensbrück. About half the people were killed along the way. From there, we were transported to the Malhauf death camp, and from there to Taucha near Leipzig. From there they took us on foot, under a heavy guard at night, to some unknown destination. We were liberated by the British on April 28, 1945 in the town of Wermsdorf.

Translator's Footnotes

1. The day after Rosh Hashanah. Return
2. The depot of deportation to the death camps of Treblinka and Majdanek). Return

My father died of typhus in March 1936, still before the pogrom. We four children and our mother were left behind. My mother was Devora, my brother was Shmuel-Hertzke, and my sisters were Chana and Shifra.

We remained in Przytyk until the outbreak of the war in 1939. After the outbreak of the war, they sent us to Przysucha, where were remained until they sent us to Treblinka. I, along with my brother, the Kaltenes, and other Przytykers, left Przysucha at night prior to the liquidation. We went through a cemetery, for the city was surrounded by police. The next day, they sent everyone to Treblinka.

I did not see my mother or sisters again. All the Przytkers who fled wandered about in the forests for a long time. We were afraid of exiting the forest – both of the Germans and of the Poles. When we saw that we could no longer withstand the conditions, we went to Wolanów.

* * *

We arrived in Wolanów at night. A large transport of people from Szydłowiec had just arrived, so we were able to blend in.

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A policeman from Przytyk gave us a room in a large barracks, in which my brother and I lived together with the Kaltenes. Later, Beinish and Gedalia went out to the partisans.

Once, on a Sunday, they took all the people and arranged them in rows of three. I was standing with my brother Shmuel-Hertzke and with Hersh-Motia. The Germans passed by us. They removed a father and two sons from the row, and then others. Thus did they take a hundred people and shot them all.

We worked at various jobs in the camp. Then I got sick, and my temperature rose to 40 degrees. That day, I remained in the barracks and did not go out to work. That day, the S.S., may their names be blotted out, arrived, and expelled everyone from the barracks. I remained lying on a bed covered with a blanket. However, they did not come into my room. All the sick people whom they snatched were shot, along with the police commandant. Later, they ordered a couple of people to bury the shot people. I also had to help bury them, even though I was sick.

When my brother returned from work along with the others, he ran to look for me in the room, for he knew that they had shot all the sick people. When he could not find me, he went to look for me among the dead, and saw that I was standing next to the shot commandant. My brother and the Kaltenes were happy, and hugged me, for they had thought that they had shot me.

Within a short time, the Germans chose ten men, I among them. My brother and other Przytykers went to Dr. Przyticki to see if he could help. All the ten men were sent to the Radom Ghetto. I thought that I would never see my brother again. However, Avraham Pint came to the ghetto some time later. I recognized him, even though he was barely recognizable, and went to him. He told me that my brother is in the “wytwórnia” (factory). I obtained a pass and traveled to my brother. I brought him bread. My brother thought that I was no longer alive, that they had taken all ten men and shot them. I never saw my brother again.

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From Radom, they sent us all to Ostrowiec. There, we also worked at various jobs, until the partisans came and shot the Ukrainian who protected us. Many people left the camp at night, and escaped to people they knew. I also left. I thought: where can I go? I decided to return to the camp.

The next day, the S.S. came to the camp and did not let us go to work. A few hours later, all of us who remained were taken to the place, and they showed us all the people whom they captured. We had to watch as they shot them.

After a certain time, they sent us to the Auschwitz camp. There, all 2,000 of us men, were placed near the crematoria ovens. However, since we had a letter stating that I worked well, an order came to not incinerate us. They removed 2,000 gypsies from block 17 to be incinerated, and they led us to that block.

Everyone knows what went on in the Auschwitz concentration camp, and I do not need to write about it. There, people only waited for death.

After some time, they sent us, a group of young people, to Fürstengrube to work in the coalmines. This was the worst camp. Many people said that it was worse than Auschwitz. People were often harmed by the coal.

From the Fürstengrube camp, they sent us to Dora. Half the people died or were shot along the way. There, we worked at building and ammunition. I was in a block of young people. Every Sunday, they took us to the roll call place, so we can see how they hanged our Jews.

They again took us out of the Dora camp. We were taken on foot and by train for ten days. We were bombarded, and the train could not travel. Perhaps 20% of us remained. Finally, we arrived in the well-known Bergen-Belsen camp. There, we did not work, for we were no longer capable of any work. There were remnants of various nationalities in Bergen-Belsen. Shortly before the liberation, the Germans prepared for each person a half loaf of bread, for they no longer had time to kill us. The German doctor Korski

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signed that he would divide up the bread for all the prisoners. He signed this at night on the 14^th, and the British entered on the 15^th and liberated us. Then Dr. Korski called out that we should not take the bread, as it was poisoned.

Of the 20,000 who were liberated from Bergen-Belsen, many could not go on. Many people died. I could not get out of bed. My friends would bring me food. The British distributed packages with good things.

When I was liberated, I first realized that I remained alone out of my entire family. Someone once came from Feldafing and told me that my brother is there together with the Kaltenes. I was still very weak, barely able to stand on my feet. I traveled with another friend, as the friend did not want to leave me along in Feldafing. We traveled for ten days, for the trains did not travel regularly. When I finally arrived in Feldafing, I found all the Kaltenes, but my brother Shmuel-Hertzke was in Poland. I waited in Feldafing for a long time, until I met my cousin Feiga-Chaya, who told me that my brother Shmuel-Hertzke was in Poland. I waited for a long time in Feldafing, and then traveled to Bergen-Belsen, where I remained until 1949. From there, I made aliya to Israel.

I, the daughter of Yosef Heberman, wish to share a few of the events of the horrible days of the Second World War.

When they drove us out of Przytyk, we were sent to the village of Wierzbica not far from Radom, where

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there lived only 18 Jewish families, and as many Poles. There were other Jewish families from Przytyk in Wierzbica.

My younger brother Reuven was a gaiter-stitcher. Since there we no gaiter-stitchers in Wierzbica, we had a livelihood. My mother Chava-Leah stood for entire days cooking for the poor people from Przytyk. They would bring their pots every day for supper, and I would bring the pots back to their homes. For the most part, we took care of Mendel Moshele's daughter Tzirel and her children, for her husband Itcha Bondi was not with them and her father and sister with their family were in a different village. She was very sick, and my mother devoted herself to her as she would have to her own child, cooking special food for her. She died at the beginning of 1942.

Before Tzirel died, we sent a letter when an opportunity arose, because we were not permitted to move freely. Mendel came and stayed with us for a few days. Later, after Tzirel's death, we took care of the children. The family with whom she had lived also took care of her children.

Przytykers would stay with us for entire weeks, or even months, and we would ensure that they were satisfied. My brother Shaul went through the streets to ensure that the passersby knew where to go to eat.

My parents and sister with their families were deported to Szydłowiec on Yom Kippur, 1942. I and my two brothers remained working. Later, my brother Shaul was captured, and the German shot him in the cemetery in Wierzbica. This took place on May 15^th, 1943. My brother Reuven and I remained alive. How we were moved back into the Radom Ghetto – I do not know.

I was together with my brother Reuven until 1944. I saw him for the last time in the Auschwitz Concentration Camp.

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Shmuel-David Yoel was alone in the house, reading a book. He had no work. It was already several weeks since the Germans had entered Przytyk. The army had marched away, but German police and S.S. men came in their place. The situation worsened from day to day. The tribulations became greater hour by hour.

Suddenly, we heard shots. Shmuel-David's mother immediately came running and said: “Shmuel-Dovidl, go out to the market. They shot Shlomo-Meir Brojtman and commanded that all men present themselves at the market.” Shmuel-David saw his mother's tears and terror – and went out.

Many men were already standing in the market. Armed Germans hauled more and more men out to the street. One of the Germans gave a sign and ordered, “Enough!” “Make a circle, accursed Juden,” ordered the commandant, who was the Przytyker house painter and a Volksdeutsche. Several of the Jews were murderously beaten in the middle of the circle, so all could see.

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The former house painter lived in Przytyk before the war. He used to paint the Jewish houses before the holidays. Now, he literally went out of his way to show the German authorities that he could be trusted with anything related to harming, torturing and tormenting the Jews. Before the war, one would barely hear from him. However, when the Germans had one victory after another and occupied Poland, such lowly creatures as this painter felt that their time had come.

The sadist placed the men in several groups. Each group was led in a different direction to harsh work. The work was not at all necessary, but only to torture and subjugate the Jews.

Shmuel-David Yoel went with his group to Avrahamche's house near the synagogue. There, they were forced to haul heavy furniture from Avrahamche's house to the fire station.

After finishing the backbreaking work, when it was already dark, the scoundrel had not yet had enough. He continued to perpetrate various tribulations against the Jews. He commanded the Jews to lie face to the ground, run, and jump not far from the burnt Radom bridge. The deep impression of Shlomo-Meir Brojtman's death, who was shot by a German because he dared to answer something back, was etched in everyone's memory. Now the painter was shouting out crazy orders: “Bend down! Stand up! Run! Stand!” one had to obey. One dared not oppose.

Suddenly the evil man got tired and ordered everyone to lie down again with their faces to the ground.

Shmuel-David Yoel's took advantage of the free minute to ponder. He remembered that it said in the Gemara, “Someone who embarrasses his fellow in public has no share in the World To Come.” Two thousand years earlier, the Jewish sages taught that one must not, Heaven forbid, shame anyone publicly. Shmuel-David remembered that a year earlier, he had read humane words in Kant's famous philosophical work, “Critique of Pure Reason,” which he had borrowed from the Przytyk library. Despite the good Yiddish translation, he did not understand everything in it, but the idea of humaneness made a deep impression upon him.

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The Volksdeutsch again began to command: “Stand, accursed Jews! Kneel down, run on your knees.” Shmuel-David did everything mechanically, even though his brain was working, but he could not understand. Now, he began to think concretely. He remembered the Przytyk pogrom a few years previous. The meeting of the Przytyk youth of all parties took place on a Saturday afternoon – the final Saturday before the pogrom. They decided to mount a resistance. Two days later, on Monday, in the midst of the fair day, when the incited peasants began to perpetrate the pogrom, Shmuel-David ran out of his house and helped the Jews repel the attacks. He was fifteen years old at that time. However, it didn't help, but what could one do now?

“Stand up, kneel down, run on your knees!” – shouted the sadist. Shmuel David remembered that, not long ago, he had read about the Haganah in the Land of Israel. He did not believe in the efforts of killing and annihilation^[1]. He had no other people, so defending them was another matter, a holy obligation. He decided to travel to the Land of Israel, legally or illegally, and defend the settlement there with weapons and with his hands. And now – how long would he have to look as human and Jewish honor is trampled underfoot? “For man was created in the image of G-d” – and now a two-legged beast is standing there and subjugating him and his friends, treating them worse than dogs.

When the painter passed by him, Shmuel-David began to stand up and wanted to reach him, snatch away his revolver, and shoot the despicable person. What would follow – Shmuel-David did not think about. He was only 18 years old – of what value was his life?

The feeling of responsibility immediately overcame him. He had read a great deal about the Nazis; he knew that the Nazis would kill tens, if not hundreds, of Jews for this death. The entire city of Jews would be held responsible for the single attack. The main thing was his own conscience. Did he have the right to risk the lives of hundreds of Przytyk Jews?

With gritted teeth and burning anger over his helplessness of taking revenge – he stood upright and thought:

“The G-d of revenge will repay you!”

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b. The book of the Holy Jew

The synagogue was completely engulfed in flames. The old Przytyk synagogue had stood for 500 years – until the German vandals set it on fire.

Moshe-Yitzchak the shoemaker was the first to come running to the fire. He jumped into the burning synagogue and wanted to save the Torah scrolls from the flames. For generation upon generation, Jews had sacrificed for the Torah. However, the German soldiers hauled Moshe-Yitzchak away and prodded him to work. The same thing happened to other Jews who merely wanted to save the Torah scrolls. They were all prodded to the stream behind the synagogue to haul out a German tank from there.

When the walls of the old synagogue could no longer withstand the heat and the fire, and they collapsed, the Germans set the recently built Beis Midrash near the synagogue on fire. German soldiers stood by and made sure that Jews would not extinguish the fire. The soldiers only permitted the fire to be extinguished when it spread and threatened the surrounding houses. In the confusion, Hershele succeeded in salvaging a book of the Zohar. When everyone left, Hershel took the half-burnt book with him.

At night, Hershel told the emissary (who lived with them in the house since the outbreak of the war) that he wanted to study the Zohar with him, but nobody should know about it. Hershel's father, a pious Jew who hosted guests, would certainly not agree that he son study books of Kabbalah. He had absolute faith that the redemption would come. Hershel was also a believer, but not as strong as his father. He was curious to know what the Zohar writes about the redemption. His desire to study Zohar was also strong, to the point where he was liable, Heaven forbid, to stumble over the regulation that one must not look at such a book until the age of 40.

Hershel's younger brothers also believed in the redemption – but of a completely different type, a different Messiah. They believed in a better tomorrow of social justice and national redemption, of an end to all the suffering of exile.

Hershel's parents believed with complete faith that the time of the Messiah would come. “It will not get light until it gets very dark” – they said. The greater the tribulations – the greater the belief. The greater the darkness – came with even more faith that the bright days of redemption are close by. The greater the times – the more can a miracle be expected.

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Hershel's younger brother, like most of the younger generation, believed that one must bring the redemption, if only people would sacrifice for it. “Just like the generation, such is its melody,” Peretz used to say.

However, both the younger and older generation had no idea at that time what type of a devilish plan the Nazis were preparing. Older Jews comforted themselves with the thought that Jews always suffered from all types of afflictions and persecutions – and endured them. They could not imagine that the physical genocide of a people was at hand. They could not conceive that they must now contend with a new type of wicked people, the likes of whom had never occurred in history; that their plan was, first and foremost, to demoralize the spirit of the Jewish people by burning their Beis Midrashes and books, and destroying their libraries, thereby removing the book from the people of the book. Second, they would inflict hunger and torture upon the body so that they can later take their lives.

Thus, the burning of the old Przytyk synagogue marked the beginning of the frightful end of the Jewish people in Przytyk.

Hershele ruminated over the Book of the Zohar, seeking the footprints of the approaching redemption. He comforted himself with various foggy innuendoes and waited for, now-now…

On the days of the holidays, a rumor spread in Przysucha that it was written in the book of the Holy Jew that when great tribulations and disasters come upon Jews, one must bring this book to a Jewish burial. On the intermediate days of Sukkot 1942, pious Jews arranged a large funeral for the book of the Holy Jew of blessed memory. They waited for a miracle. Jews believed in a holy word. However, after Sukkot, on October 28, 1942, on the Sabbath morning, they took all the Jews to Opoczno, and from there – to Treblinka.

My brother Mendel and I waited in Radom for an opportunity to travel to Przytyk, even though Jews warned us not to travel to city, because they heard that a lad from Przytyk went to take a look at the town – and was murdered there.

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The A.K.^[2] was moving in Poland at that time, and they had no other concern than to kill the remnants of the Jews. A pogrom took place when we arrived in Radom, and the surviving Jews lived in great fear.

While waiting for a car to travel to Przytyk, I tried to convince my brother that I look like a Christian and they wouldn't recognize me. On the other hand, he wanted to convince me that it is better that he go. In the meantime, a truck came. I, younger and more agile, quickly jumped on the vehicle and set out in the direction of Przytyk.

Even though I barely knew the Przytyk Poles, for they were a small majority there, I realized that the Christians who were traveling in the vehicle were acquaintances from Przytyk.

When we arrived at the Jewish cemetery, not far from the city, I looked away, so that I would not be conspicuous to my neighbors in the vehicle. One of them, a sausage dealer (a pig butcher, as we called them), certainly no lover of Jews, did not take his eyes of me. I was silent, so that my Polish would not arouse any suspicions. From their discussion, I understood that they were either Przytykers, or people from the surrounding villages. The sausage dealer declared out loud to the non-Przytyker Christians that this is the Jewish cemetery. As he did so, he cast a sharp glance to see my reaction. I was silent, acting as if I did not know.

Then we were in Przytyk. Everyone got off. They still looked at me, perhaps I aroused suspicion for them. The marketplace was empty even though it was a fair day. It was almost erased from the earth. Most of the houses in the marketplace were in ruins. The well in the market was abandoned. A couple of houses had started to be rebuilt, but the wide marketplace was narrowed. It seemed as if they were planning to turn it into a street.

Instead of hundreds of Jews with stalls and booths with all kinds of merchandise, and a crowd of peasants – as it used to be on a fair day until the outbreak of the war – now, there were a few Polish stalls with textiles and very

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few customers. Both the customers and the merchants could be counted with one's fingers. I did not feel so secure in the empty market, so I went over to Zachenta. Warsawer Street was not as destroyed as the marketplace. Zachenta, which was almost outside the city before the war, was now full of booths and customers, even though it was very far from the place where the Przytyk fair took place before the war. I felt a bit safer in the crowd. From near the church, which was now the center of the market and the city, I set out to Itche Meir's mill. I heard a group of Poles talking, saying that in a neighboring town, the local policeman had been murdered a short time ago. It was obvious that they were happy with the news.

When I arrived at the mill and began to cast a glance at the river where we used to swim before the war, and the meadow where I often strolled, I had the feeling that people were still looking at me. I immediately returned to the fair, not wanting to risk my life for sentimental places which were once an important part of Jewish life in the town. Today, it was an abandoned river…

Near the church, I blended in with the crowd and freed myself from my persecutors. From then, I went quickly to the Radom Bridge. A truck was standing there waiting for more passengers. I quickly boarded the vehicle, and we traveled to Radom. There, I felt a bit more secure, and thanked G-d that I emerged alive from postwar Przytyk.

In Radom, I met by chance a respectable Polish woman – the teacher of the Przytyk school, Mrs. Gumkowska. She recognized me and asked, “Are you the son of Yankel Miller's neighbor?” She told me that the Germans had arrested Mr. Karczak, and his daughter Jadwiga had already gotten married. Ursula, the daughter of the Przytyker writer, had also gotten married. Both were my Christian classmates in the Przytyk folks school. Mrs. Gumkowska was silent about the Jewish girls who had been in our class – and they had been the majority. It was better to be silent. It seems as only one girl out of all the Jewish girls in my class, Rivka Lindenbaum, survived. Later, we, Mendel and I, met Adam, the son of the Shabbos-goy^[3], in Radom. He spoke a good Yiddish – the only Yiddish speaker in today's Przytyk – a Pole…

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d. Afterword: Resistance or Martyrdom?

The question as to why Jews went like sheep to the slaughter instead of resisting has again been posed by various people and groups. Therefore, it is important to clarify this question not for oneself, but even more important, one must clarify it for the coming generations.

As an example, I will bring my experience with Jewish youth who have already been in America for a long time. I simply could not understand their lack of concern for the destruction of European Jewry. The attitude was: Let us rest, we have already heard enough about this.

Heroism is interesting, martyrdom may be for one person, but mass murder without a fight from the victims – it is better that one deal with this quickly. One doesn't deal long with the question. One treats it as one would swallow a bitter morsel. The question remains: What will the children or the grandchildren of Przytykers think when they read the Book of Przytyk?

Another example: my good friend, an African American, asked me:

“Why did you not fight back? We African Americans would not have allowed ourselves to be taken like sheep to the slaughter…” (He is a bigshot here, in free America, where it takes less heroism for an African American to fight against the police in New York, than for a Jew in Moscow to state that he wishes to obtain a visa for Israel.)

The truth is that the American Jewish youth of today, and even our gentile friends, do not comprehend the type of murderers that the Jews faced in the persona of the Nazis in the gestapo.

In any case, let us say – young people born in a free land, or an African American born in free America – can talk like this, for what type of knowledge do they have of a dictator, and furthermore of a brutal Nazi regime? However Chana Arendt Ph.D., who had studied in Germany, in the pinnace of the land of hell, specifically accused the Jewish leaders. From their distance, it was easy to talk. The Nazis, aside from their militaristic regime, were sly as the devil, and almost everyone knew what was going on with the Jews. At the same time, these so-called Jewish leaders barely had a concept of what was going on in the innards of the Nazi corporate mind. We were a small minority amongst Polish haters and Ukrainian murderers, who were prepared to turn in for a kilo of salt a Jew who had been saved by a miracle

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from the Nazi murder apparatus. The people simply had no idea – whether good or bad leaders.

The Jewish historians such as Salo Baron^[4] speak from the other side about the martyrdom of Jewry in the context of the destruction. According to his conception, we speak too much about resistance and battle, and are incapable of seeing the magnitude of the martyrdom of the Jewish people. He demonstrates that Jewish history in the times of the Inquisition as well as the Crusades mentions those who died in Sanctification of the Divine Name and discusses very little about those who fought. This is true even though it was a fact that Jewish groups mounted an uprising together with gentiles. The question was only that, when a group of people sacrifice themselves, will the other ones, the survivors, remember and appreciate them. However, when an entire community, city, or almost an entire people are killed – who will remember their martyrdom?

In the past, the Christian persecutors never had a goal of annihilating the entire Jewish people. They wanted there to remain a small number of oppressed, persecuted, but living Jews, to demonstrate to the world – the Christian world – the existence of a people to whom their “savior” Jesus stemmed, and also to warn that the repressions against the Jews occurred because they did not want to recognize their own “savior.” The Nazis, however, wanted to annihilate them all, down to the last Jew. In this manner, the concept of martyrdom was liable to disappear, Heaven forbid, along with the people.

I believe that the question of martyrdom versus resistance has different interpretations for two different generations. The older generations of our mothers and fathers, with deep faith, accepted the decree from Heaven and said with simplicity and unassuming heroism: That is the way it is, we cannot understand the ways of the Master of the World. If this is what Blessed G-d wants, may the Name of G-d be blessed. – Their way was the way of martyrdom.

The younger generation, our generation and the large majority of the younger generation, had a different attitude. Naturally, they were prepared to resist and fight against all enemies of our people. The proof of this is the resistance during the time of the Przytyk pogrom. Unfortunately, the resistance in a relatively democratic Poland, in a time of peace, cannot be compared to the resistance against the Nazis during the time of an absolute dictator, and in wartime. The possibilities of fighting or mounting

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a resistance against the Germans were minimal, and the hope for success was almost nil. Nevertheless, even in such a situation, our youth everywhere, including in Przytyk, did more than all other youth groups in the world would have done under such circumstances. The youth indeed wanted resistance. Unfortunately, there barely existed any possibilities to develop a resistance, for the inimical world only waited for the end of the tragedy. The Poles and Ukrainians stood prepared to help the German murderers. The Russians ignored them, and the Americans acted as if they didn't know. However, even when there was no hope or prospects, the Jewish youth revolted in the ghettos.

The path of Sanctification of the Divine Name of the older generation was not only a theory, but rather a historic declaration. It was an actual result of millions of simple, pious Jews. Eli Wiesel said that in future generations, psychologists may be incapable of describing how the Germans sunk into the pit of the netherworld to perpetrate such murders. However, why was G-d silent – will always remain a painful secret. Our interest is not to understand the German murderousness and evil. We are better off passing over the secrets of Divine justice or injustice (if such exists). However, the greatness of the previous generation, who accepted the tribulations with love, simplicity and faith, as a verdict -- is without doubt. It makes no difference that they had no choice – their unassuming courage is unquestionable, and their greatness is no lesser than it would have been had they had a choice.

They knew about the previous generations who were full of sell-sacrifice – the ten martyrs of the Roman government^[5], the Inquisition, the tribulations of Tach Ve'Tat [the Chmielnicki persecutions] – and they were also going along the same route. Regarding this, the inquisitors and all Jew-haters in the past did not dare to murder the entire Jewish people, whereas the Nazis planned the total annihilation of Jewry, the “Final Solution” – this they did not know.

Thus, we are a continuation of generations. Our parents received a heritage of self-sacrifice from the previous generations, and dreamed that the tribulations might perhaps be a sign of the redemption and the approaching footsteps of the Messiah. The least we could do is to attempt to understand and simultaneously be amazed at their simplicity, faith, and courage in the face of death.

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The younger generation of all strata and parties are a different story. This is an idealistic youth, prepared to do more than every other youth in the world in the same circumstances. The resistance of the Przytyk youth against the Polish pogrom perpetrators during the pogrom is an indication that the Jewish youth were prepared and ready to stand up against their enemies. However, there is a major difference between the Polish haters and the German Nazis. The Nazis scientifically planned everything, with all details, even regarding how to fool the innocent victims. Naturally, opportunities to do anything in the ghetto barely existed. There was the responsibility and the realization that the Germans could murder a half a town if something happened to one German. Nobody knew that the Germans would later do so in any case.

An event from my own experience demonstrates how difficult it was to decide to raise one's hand against a Nazi when one realized what would later happen with one's parents, sisters, brothers, and other Jews.

This is the history of the infamous house painter in Przytyk. It happened three or four weeks after the Germans entered the town. The painter, a Volksdeutsche who had lived in Przytyk for many years, overnight became a Haman for the Jews. He did everything to embitter their lives.

One afternoon, many Jews were scurrying through the streets, I among them. The painter ordered them to haul heavy furniture from the school in Avrahamche's house to the fire station; to lay down on their stomachs, to crawl on all fours, etc. I realized (seemingly, others had the same thoughts) that the painter was doomed, and an end would come to the degradation of tens and hundreds of Przytyk Jews. We were unaware that the next day, they would shoot a hundred or more Jews. The question was raised: whether anyone had the right to risk the lives of hundreds of Jews – their parents, brothers, sisters, friends? I was sure that many other people had the same, painful dilemma.

It was clear that the form of murder and barbarism of the Nazis was such that had never happened before, and would hopefully never happen again. Mounting a resistance against the Nazis when they were at the pinnacle of their military power, with army of Polish and Ukrainian anti-Semites? And who would mount the resistance? A people confined into ghettos

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isolated and powerless – could they deal with the issue of resistance? The situation was hopeless. Despite this, the Jews in the Warsaw ghetto and other ghettos fought back. The uprising in the Warsaw Ghetto was a unique form of heroism that had no equal in world history. Those who have open eyes and are willing to see can begin to comprehend what the Jewish spirit of resistance accomplished. Do not judge your friend until you are in his place – is the answer to gentiles and Jews. Everyone who wishes to understand the hopeless situation of the Jews during the Hitlerist occupation can understand the high level of responsibility, courage and deeds that the Jewish youth achieved.

The lesson that we and the future generations can learn from the destruction is to ensure that such a situation as existed during the Nazi era is never created again. Naturally, a Jewish state will help prevent such a situation of lack of options and hopelessness. A Jewish state can be a sign for the murderers that their hands can be cut off if they wish to murder. A Jewish state can be a sign to the world that they must live with the idea that Jewish blood is not wanton, even outside the borders of Israel.

Przytyk natives who survived the death camps, after the liberation

1. It is unclear exactly what this sentence means, but it seems to imply that he did not believe that the extent of the killing and annihilation that was to take place. Return
2. A.K – Armia Krajowa, the Land Army – an underground, military organization of the Polish government in exile during the years of the Hitlerist occupation. Return
3. A gentile who performs tasks that are forbidden to Jews on the Sabbath. Return
4. See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salo_Wittmayer_Baron Return
5. See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ten_Martyrs#:~:text=The%20Ten%20Martyrs%20(Hebrew%3A%20%D7%A2%D7%A9%D7%A8%D7%AA,detailed%20in%20Midrash%20Eleh%20Ezkerah. Return

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It was very dark, faces could hardly be distinguished. The light of the candle was dim. Then flames went higher, the fires rose majestically. We stood dumb, not a word was heard. The fire shed a great light in that dark and gloomy room. It was the memorial candle for the six million Jews

In the flame I saw the burning towns and houses, the great fires which consumed people's bodies. The fires did not reject the Jews, even while they called out: ”Help us, our God, God of Abraham! Save us, O God!” But the flames went on consuming them

Those men were like animals and not like human beings; they were beyond love or hatred, they were completely oppressed

The Jews were led to the camps, to death at the hands of the “supermen”. They wanted to annihilate the whole Jewish nation. The Jews were led to death like sheep. It was a dark and pitiful period. The world stood still and did not stir

Now the world wants everybody to know what happened during those years (1939–45). The world allowed those monsters to kill the Jews, to exterminate more than a third of a nation. That world wants us to forgive its silence. However, we, the sons of the Jewish nation, can never forget the Holocaust

It was, and still is, a deep wound in our hearts! We realized then that our home is Israel, and nowhere else in the world. Hatred and enmity are spread everywhere, the yellow star of David is not worn any more, but modern forms of anti-Semitism take its place and are developing by great steps. So the words “Don't forget us!” are still ringing in my ears. “We shall never forget” is our oath – “Never, never!”

(“Jerusalem Post”, 30.4.65.)

Translator's Footnote

1. Transcribed from the English by Melvyn Maltz z”l. Return

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