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Silently, and alone, I pour out the fiery ember of prayer – Of an entire community. Years have already passed, and as if nothing ever happened – It is seventeen years since I have seen my shtetl. I would certainly not recognize my shtetl – Because everything has vanished, everything has been consumed in fire. The sorrow and pain for a mother with a heart – That was holy and dear, gone away with the flames. The Jewish businesses in the city are no more –- Those dear Jews of the city no longer run to the baths. On Friday, the Shammes no longer bangs out the call ‘to Schul’ anymore – The Brown-Shirted Hooligans shot, burned and strangled them all. The way to the synagogue is overgrown with grass – No roof, no doors, the windows without panes of glass. The holy walls have been orphaned – That which was dearest, robbed and desecrated. Men, women, tall as beams – Expired from hunger, thirst and torture. That Jewish youth, with is burbling happiness, is no more – Their ashes are sown and spread over the fields. Every week, bitter decrees and frightful slaughter – And the world stood silent at our great calamity. The market day in Tomaszow is still on Thursday to this day – There are no more merchants after the bloody slaughter. One no longer hears the sound of singing, or of childish joy – Lekon and Zabruki have spread through the Jewish businesses. Crooked Juzek, as tiny as a mouse – Thinks nothing is good enough for him, except Borenstein's house. Noszynski the pig farmer is the owner of the Jewish mill – He achieved his objective at the expense of our great pain. Janek the shoemaker and Wojciech Bartyk – Are the managers of the Jewish factory.

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Our dearest are no longer here, where are their bones – In forests? On the steppes? – Nobody knows. No gravestone on the cemetery, dark and gray – Who is to recite ‘El Maleh,’ if the Shammes is not here. We recall our Jewish heroes with trepidation and respect in this tragic moment When the Hitler beasts sowed annihilation, broiling and burning. It is difficult – very difficult – to find a consolation – Their ghosts fly about wherever you stand or go. We will not forget that frightening hour – Your father, your mother – the home that is no longer there. My sister, remember your children!!! Their last cry from the fire and flame – God of Vengeance – – – And let their blood be avenged.

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The extermination of our people began in actuality when Hitler ימ”ש with his accomplices gathered for the first time in a cellar in Munich, when the Nazi Party was created.

When the first anti-Semitic appearances took place, and the student meetings that openly called for exterminating the Jewish people, none of our Jewish leaders, or leadership institutions, foresaw the black cloud that was approaching us, because no logically thinking person could imagine that, in the twentieth century, that a human mind would be capable of conceiving so grotesque an initiative as extermination.

It is no shame to admit, that many of us, upon reading the frightening news in the press in the years between 1933 and 1939, did not take seriously enough, the events that were then taking place in this connection at that time in Germany. [This was the Germany] that was still living at peace with the rest of the world, and was a member, along with other nations in a variety of world organizations, demanding justice and righteousness, in connection with its own demands, while at the same time conducting a genocide against our brethren inside of its own land.

We can firmly submit, that when the first, and later the larger masses of refugees began to pour over the western Polish border, as uprooted and expelled, a feeling continued to prevail, that the tocsin of distress brought to us by the press, was not yet so terrible, and the world is not yet disintegrating… that is the polemic that many of us voiced. In passing, it is noteworthy to mention that as the refugees came to us, naked and barefoot from Germany, where all had lived for the last generations, and it is well known that Polish Jewry, from small to large, with no difference based on political persuasion, did everything that was only possible to provide support. And at this opportunity, it should also be said, that Polish Jewry exerted itself beyond its capacity, and at that once critical time, created the necessary assistance, which provided a great deal of help for our oppressed brethren.

Even at the time when it was really close, when the Nazi murderers fell upon the world like a horde of locusts to enslave humanity, and one of us, a great thinker and politician, went around with a cry that he foresees a genocide, and proposed that the only way out is to enter into negotiation with those regimes in power at that time, about the evacuation of European Jewry, it went so far, that a variety of Jewish political parties and their leaders not only shouted this project down, but also to our greatest sorrow and shame, responded with the filthiest names from the newest forms of expression.^[1]

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This demonstrates how unbelievable and ungraspable the impending bitter Holocaust years were in the fantasy of our people in that time.

However, this didn't last very long, and, indeed, in the first days of the war, the residents of our city, Tomaszow, near Lublin, came to the realization that the unbelievable is possible, and murder knows no boundaries, and that war in modern times, in the year 1939, is not just a [military] battle, where only soldiers fight one against the other, and they are the only ones who die.

Tomaszow is a shtetl that finds itself on the principal route between Lublin and Lemberg (Lvov).

Traveling on the main highway south of Lublin, the last city before Tomaszow is Zamość, the city where I. L. Peretz was born and also lived. Incidentally, in our town, it is told that the great Yiddish writer I. L. Peretz was in love with a girl from Tomaszow.^[2]

In leaving the city, only eight (8) kilometers on the way to Lemberg, one finds the tragic little town of Belzec, which before the First World War, was the border point between Czarist Russia and Austria. And in the years from 1918, when Poland got back its independence, until the year 1939, the outbreak of the Second World War, Belzec played the role of a tiny railroad station, that serviced our city of Tomaszow with the facility

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of an open channel for the transportation of wood products and grain, which occupied a major position in the business dealings of many Jews. It also provided an opportunity to travel to the larger world, when it was necessary to do business in other cities.

This same Belzec, where in the final years before the Second World War, there lived several tens of Jews, is today well known over the entire world. This very same, tiny Belzec, was transformed into vale of skeletons by the German beasts. [Here lie] the bones of hundreds of thousands of innocent murdered Jews, driven together from every corner of Europe, and killed in this little place, Belzec, gassed alive. An injustice occurred on every blade of grass in the surrounding fields and forests. A murder was committed on every patch of sand. If one gathered all of the rocks from miles and miles around, the collection would not be sufficient to place a marker for each of the hundreds of thousands of martyrs who were killed by the accursed Germans and their murderers in Belzec.

There, in Belzec, to this day, can be found one of the largest cemeteries in the entire world. And among these unidentified bones and burned ashes, can be found our tortured Tomaszow martyrs ז”ל.

Tomaszow was not an industrial city. The Jewish residents derived their living partly from commerce, and partly from trade.

Jewish youth in Tomaszow, in the final years before the Second World War, was already well developed both physically and spiritually.

The many political organizations, where lectures and debates on a variety of subjects were held, the Batei Medrashim, where many young people sat, whether by day or whether by night, and learned, the well developed Bet Yaakov School for Girls, the Agudah Schule, the Yavneh School, directed by Mizrahi, a couple of dozen Heders, directed personally by well-qualified Melamdim, Jews who were scholars, and this apart from the Talmud Torah, for children whose parents could not afford to pay tuition, which was financially supported by the Jewish populace, partly from community subsidies, partly from weekly assessments from each family that was in a position to help. And to a great measure, we have to thank our brethren in the United States for the existence of the Talmud Torah, especially in New York, from which support was sent.

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Apart from this there was also a Froebel School^[3], and many Heders for small children, which began from the teaching of the alphabet, for them to become aware that they belong to the People of the Book.

In accordance with the municipal and government regulations, each young person was required to study at a state elementary school, or in a school that operated under government control, such that it adhered to an equivalent level as those that were run by the city. We also had a Gymnasium, and towards the end a Lyceum, where our Jewish youth was very well represented.

Jewish sports organizations, which counted many members from our young people, were seen in the good physical condition of the young Jewish populace of Tomaszow in the final years before the Second [World] War.

Apart from the fact that each organization or party had a library on a small scale, except for the Bund, which had a rather handsome and large reading room, there also existed two large libraries where hundreds of the best books could be found.

The municipal library, which was supported by the municipal council, or as it was called ‘The Magistrate,’ served a large number of subscribers, of which between 70-80% were Jewish. And, it should also be recalled here, that much gratitude is owed for the building up of this library, and a good support for the purchase of the newest books in that time if Jewish writers and Jewish issues, to the longtime Jewish member of the municipal council, Mr. Zvi Edelstein ע”ה who was later killed by the Germans in Lemberg.

The second large reading room was ‘The Jewish Manual Trades Union Library.’ It was called by this name because it was the property of the Jewish Manual Trades Union in our city, which also supported it, in a material sense. For many years, it lent books exclusively to Jews, and many times, one had to wait for weeks for a book, because the number of readers was unusually high.

In passing, it is very important to recollect that the Jewish Manual Trades Union undertook the burden in a variety of endeavors in our social and community life for many, many years, in our city of Tomaszow.

The daily Jewish press, as well as Jewish periodicals in the Polish language, weekly and monthly publications, which appeared in the three largest cities of Warsaw, Lemberg and Cracow, as well as Hebrew offerings, had many readers among us.

The Jews in Tomaszow, in general, were good-natured people, friendly towards guests. The city enjoyed a reputation as a place where a poor person would not go away hungry, and also not empty-handed.

In the last days, before the outbreak of The Second World War, everyone felt that the situation was tense. The clumsy and disorganized mobilization, which was carried out by the Polish authorities, did nothing but instill fear in any person with awareness, because this immediately indicated that, despite the fact that the regime trumpeted that we were not going to give up even the smallest unit of territory, that we were entirely weak, and we prayed that we would not be put to the test.

Evenings were spent sitting at the radio, waiting for some sort of news, for a morsel of hope that it would not come to war.

Regrettably, these hopes were lost.

The first Saturday, which was the second of September, and the second day of the war, passed quietly. Apart from a few solitary young people who were mobilized, and sent off to their several points in other cities, where their divisions were supposed to be located, the city was relatively quiet.

Very early on Sunday, we became aware of the declaration of war against Germany by England and France.

The entire shtetl gathered at the Sejmik, where the municipal orchestra played, and the leaders of the city, such as the Starosta, Burgomaster, and other high level municipal employees, military officers, gave speeches, and shared with the gathered throng that: Poland is no longer alone on the battlefield, and that with the help of the other two great powers, that the Germans will be beaten rather quickly and with certainty.

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Despite the fact that this was said with happiness, and with lofty phrases and speech, everyone felt in their heart that the war had arrived, and that it would be long enough, and one imagined that in the best case it would bring no good, in general, and certainly so, for we, the Jews, in particular.

The next few days also passed quietly. Each morning, the Jews went to their houses of worship to pray, and at the same time, talked a bit of politics, how the situation was. In the evenings, because it was not permitted to light any candles, prayers were said at home.

In general, the city looked dead at night, because only few people would venture out of their houses at night.

As I previously mentioned, nobody could imagine the level of cruelty that the Germans exhibited towards the Jews in the later years of the war, but even more incomprehensible was their assault on the civilian population. Immediately in the first days of the war, regrettably, it was us, the populace of Tomaszow near Lublin, who were one of the first to see the gruesome acts of pitiless murder, by the German bomber planes, flying over the defenseless and unarmed populace.

September 7, 1939, the seventh day since the outbreak of the war, brought extermination and death to our shtetl of Tomaszow, affecting many Jews and also many [other] residents of the populace.

It happened to be the weekly market day, and a lively commerce was underway. The marketplace and the surrounding side streets were full of peasant wagons, stands with produce and vegetables, wagons with a variety of merchandise. The peasants, who had traveled in, bout everything their eyes could see, for their own use. Especially, each of them bought salt, kerosene, and matches, with the knowledge that it would certainly come to pass that these items might not be able to be obtained in the future. At the same time, the residents of the city, equally transacted the purchase of a variety of articles from the peasants. There was a din and bruiting in which the shouts of people, the neighing of horses, the quacking of ducks and the cackling of geese, all blended together.

The market day in Tomaszow, which took place every Thursday, was famous throughout the area. Not only did the local peasants come, but also many people from the surrounding towns, such as: Komarow, Tyszowce, Laszczow, Krasnobrod, Jozefów, Narol, Lubycz, and even as far away as Rawa Ruska.

At about three o'clock in the afternoon, at the height of the intensity of the business day, when a lively racket of buyer and seller was underway on the market square, a number of airplanes appeared out of the clear blue sky, which the gathering stared at in wonder. They thought that the planes were ‘ours,’ what the peasants would call ‘nasza.’ It didn't occur to anyone that it was necessary to seek shelter, that, rather, these were German Messerschmitts, that has come to annihilate us, and the peaceful civilian populace, whose only objective was to purchase some eggs, and a cut of butter, or perhaps just a couple of kilos of potatoes.

It only took a few minutes since these steel birds showed themselves. They circled, and took a good look, and certainly established that below them, there was nothing to do with a military point of activity. And with their entire force of attack, they fell upon the helpless populace, and dropped several tens of bombs.

The pandemonium and upset that this engendered is impossible to describe. The hundreds of horses that became panicked and frightened, began to pull everything along that stood in their way. Everyone tried to find some place to hide, running wildly in whatever direction their eyes took them, stepping over tens of bodies that had been torn apart, in a most frightful way, by the bombs.

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Simultaneously, the German murderers dropped incendiary bombs that hit the entire south-west part of the town, and entire quarters, in a matter of minutes, were consigned to a terrible fire. In this fire, the Great Synagogue of the city and the Bet HaMedrash were consumed.

If the imagination can conceive of the confusion that ensued at the Tower of Babel, and at the same time the fires of Sodom occurred, that is what that sorrowful Thursday afternoon was like, after noon on 23 Elul 5699, in our shtetl of Tomaszow, near Lublin.

For some time before the beginning of the German-Polish War, we began to murmur about the fact that a war between Poland and Hitler Germany was getting ready to break out. However, we did not anticipate that it would arrive at our city with such a quick tempo.

In September 1939, we discovered that Hitler had attacked Poland, and with lightning speed had marched to Warsaw, which immediately caused a panic in our town, especially among the Jewish residents, not knowing what to do, or where to run to. A mobilization order was immediately posted, ordering everyone to report for conscription into the military. We saw the first of the officer insignias, such as on Dr. Cybulski, Dr. Shulman, Witkowski, and others, wearing their military uniforms. The first went off immediately to the barracks, and on the second day, the first recruits from the district started to appear in the city, going by the thousands to the barracks to be outfitted with military insignias, and in pretty short order, they ran out of such insignias in the magazines. It appears that there was a rather large spy apparatus here. It was so, that one could go about the city and listen to the news from the radio, which continuously brought news from various Polish cities, such that it would unnerve the strongest of men, such that he could have patience for other things, until the pitiable day arrived on our city.

It was the 7^th of September. This was precisely on a market day, which always was held on a Thursday, when the peasants from the surrounding villages would arrive, and we, the Jews, were occupied with making a deal – our city was disassembled by an unending bombardment from a Nazi air armada.

Imagine what kind of a terror this instilled in our city, especially among its Jewish populace, when the bombardment brought with it, the first casualties of our city, at which time the following were killed instantly: Itcheh Kruk, Eliezer Dornfeld the younger, Yud'l Reis, Itcheh Lichtenfeld's children. At the same time, a second wave of the German steel birds arrived, and began to drop incendiary rockets on the Jewish quarter. A fire immediately engulfed the entire city. It was said that an individual was standing in the middle of the market square, and indicated where the Nazi warplanes should drop their incendiary rockets, and so, not knowing what to do, and in such a tumult, almost all of the Tomaszow Jewish populace snatched whatever they could from their dwellings. One might grab a pack, another a bit of goods from his place of business, and then fled to wherever they could. Part of them fled to the forest, and part to the meadows, and others, to the nearby villages (the peasants immediately said that they were afraid to hid Jews), at least to flee from he huge inferno that had enveloped our city.

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It continued in this fashion for a couple of days, soaked through by rain, and chilled by the night cold, with empty stomachs, hoping for some change, and an end to these tribulations….The Nazi murderers entered Tomaszow on the eve of Rosh Hashana.

With the final occupation of the city, by the Germans, a variety of total crimes broke out, from the smallest variety, such as pillaging Jewish homes and businesses, with the help of Polish anti-Semites.

Seeing no purpose to remaining in the forests, meadows, and villages, slowly, the Jewish populace began to return to the city, seeing the great calamity that had befallen the city, and how nearly all of the city had been burned down, especially the Jewish quarter, where only 2 or 3 streets remained, and not having a roof over their heads, the Jews began to seek places to go, and a little at a time began to move in with one another in a variety of houses that had survived, and could be used as a refuge.

However then, when one, more or less, had some sort of place where to put down one's head to sleep, new troubles began to come from the depraved Nazis. Approximately two days after the city was occupied, a pair of German soldiers were walking along the Koscielna Gasse and saw a movement in the cellar of Mordechai Joseph Szparer's house. They immediately went down there, and took out: Fyvel Holtz with both of his sons, Lipa with Yoss'keh Goldman, as well as Itta Borg's son-in-law, and took them to an unknown location and murdered them all (it is said that it was in the Siwa Dolina Forest). It was in this manner, that the Hitler Hooligans continued to ceaselessly torture [the people] in a variety of sadistic ways, such that in the house of Goldzamd, on the Lwowska Gasse, several families were hidden, and they were [the] taken out and lined up in a row to be shot. Shia Lehrer began to run, and he was chased, and shot, but this permitted the others to flee.

This was the way things continued for a period of eight days. Upon rising, we saw that the city was empty, there were no Germans nor any Poles. We were breathing a little easier, as we emerged from the stuffy cellars and bunkers where we had remained hidden during this time, when suddenly a variety of news items began to circulate. One such item had it that, a large number of Polish military with artillery, and a variety of other ordnance, had quartered itself in the Church Square, and it was preparing to launch a pogrom against the Jewish populace, A second item had it that the Soviets were already to be found in a neighboring town, Laszczow. It did not take long, and the Russians marched into Tomaszow.

After the arrival of the Russians, we permitted ourselves to come out onto the streets more freely, and there was a sense that the true salvation had arrived. The Soviets immediately ordered the Jewish populace to celebrate a festive holiday, because this was during the days of the Sukkot holiday. The Soviet military immediately marched to the Church Square, with their tanks, where the Polish military stood, who that very night, were intending to launch a pogrom against us. They were taken into custody, and sent out of Tomaszow. At that point, we breathed a little easier, and we all went home to prepare for the Festival Holiday.

We thought that we had arrived at a point of tranquility. A little at a time, businesses were opened up, and attempts were made to normalize life. The city council began to allocate residences to those that were burned out. For example, if one [family] lived in two rooms, they were asked to take in another family. Our locally grown communists surfaced. First of all, they began to liquidate the Zionist organizations, and confiscating their assets. For example, the club of those who worked for the Land of Israel possessed a radio, to which they paid no mind, and had no difficulty in confiscating the radio. However, there was not much time left for them to rule, because in a few days, over the radio, we heard the recognized Soviet-German Treaty, about

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settling boundaries, and according to that treaty, our town was to fall to the Germans.

A variety of interpretations began to be formulated. There were those who held that it was necessary to leave the city together with the Russians. And there were others, who held that it was necessary to stay in the city, because there was nothing to lose. In the meantime, we saw the Shiflingers, with their family leaving the city , the first of the people in the city to go on the way to Rawa Ruska, It was at that time that the real panic set in. Those who had the means, rented a horse and wagon. They began to transport their merchandise from their businesses to Rawa Ruska, because the soldiers permitted everything to be transported. Approximately, at the time of Simchat Torah, the Soviets indicated that they were leaving the city, and that they will provide vehicular transport whoever wants to leave and go to Rawa Ruska. It is self-evident, that the largest part of the Jews of Tomaszow left the city, on the Festival of Simchat Torah, together with the last of the Russian soldiers.

With their evacuation of the city, the city stood without any military forces in it, meaning that the Russians had evacuated and set up their boundary at the shtetl of Lubicz, not far form Tomaszow, and the German military had not yet occupied our city. There was anarchy – ‘Anything Goes.’ That part of those Jews who remained behind, that also finally realized they wanted to leave, already could not, because the gentiles of the city now occupied the roads, and didn't let them out, screaming, ‘You Zyds are taking everything out of the city, and we will be left with nothing.’ And the remaining Jews did not want to part with their little bit of pitiful poverty, and they remained in the city until the Hitlerist Angel of Death occupied the city.

We, who were on the Soviet side where, in the first time interval, we almost all settled in Rawa Ruska, first now began to taste what it meant to be refugees. We practically lived out in the open. Only a few were able to take in some refugees from the large number that flowed in from the entire area. The rain and the cold began to oppress our bones that had been broken for some time already, to the extent that we began to look for ways to survive in our new surroundings. A variety of opinions began to be formulated. Some people, smuggled themselves across the border back into Tomaszow, and others went the other way, fleeing Tomaszow, One placed one's self in mortal danger by crossing the border, but what was there to do? In the process of fleeing, men were separated from their wives, and children from parents. In the desire to reunite with one's own family, people took to going off to Lemberg, and its vicinity.

Weeks, and then months, went by. On the Soviet side, we became acclimatized to the living conditions, a little at a time, and actually did not live badly. However, we began to hear terrifying and oppressing news coming from our home, that is, Tomaszow, how through a variety of aktionen, Jews were impressed into [forced] labor.

One day, those of us on the Soviet side, were ordered by the Soviet authorities to present ourselves, register, and obtain Soviet passports. This threw us, yet again, into a quandary, not knowing if we were permitted to assume Soviet citizenship. As a result, the Soviet authority commenced an assault against those who did not accept the [Soviet] citizenship, and rousted everyone out of their beds, packed us in wagons, and sent us off to far Siberia. The people of Tomaszow who had remained hidden, remained on the Soviet side in Galicia.

We dragged ourselves in those wagons of filth an thirst for long weeks, hoping for a drink of water. Finally, we arrived in the Siberian forests, and there, we cut down ancient forests and from that, prepared a variety of materials for the Soviet regime.

It is difficult to relate the nature of that hard, forced labor, about the hunger, filth, and the frightful cold that

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we had to endure. But even more terrifying were the remnants of the Tomaszow Jews that survived to the liberation, and returning to Poland, when we heard that those who had remained behind in Tomaszow, as well as those who had remained [elsewhere] in Galicia, were all sent to Belzec and there to the gas chambers, and then to the crematoria, which they, themselves, had to construct, and they were incinerated in The Sanctification of The Name. May their memory be for a blessing.

It was not possible to remain in Poland for any length of time, because at the beginning of the liberation of Poland, a sizeable amount of anti-Semitism yet reigned, as well as a variety of pogroms, and at night, it was terrifying to go out. Therefore, part of the people decided that they would illegally cross the border to leave Poland. For part of those from Tomaszow who had returned to Poland, it proved to be too difficult to journey even further, and therefore they decided temporarily to live where they were, especially in light of the fact that later, the situation had more or less normalized itself in Poland. Accordingly, part of the people took up residence in Lodz, and a part in Szczeczin.

‘But I had a desire to take a look at our old home town,’ is what Rukhama Gelernter told me. Arriving in Tomaszow, I did not know where to alight, because I thought to myself: is this a city, or a wasteland of wreckage? There is not a single Jew left with whom one might take lodging. Imagine if you will, that a kindly Christian permitted me to lodge with him, and told me immediately in the morning to flee because my life was in danger. Despite this, I wanted to see what remained after the destruction. I took a quick look, and saw that all of the Jewish houses, and places of business that survived the great fire, were occupied by local Poles. Yes! I met one Jew, this was the prizefighter, Miriam Hirsch Henya's son-in-law, who lives there with a Polish wife.

But there is no more ‘Jewish life.’

There are no more Jewish children;

There is no more Old Synagogue with its Bet HaMedrash;

There is no more courtyard of R' Yehoshua'leh, with its studiers;

There is no more Rebbe of Cieszanow;

There are no more dynamic Jewish parties and organizations;

There no longer exists a vibrant Jewish youth, with its pioneering organizations, such as, ‘Freiheit,’ ‘HeHalutz,’ ‘HaPoel;’

There are no more Tema'leh's, voices of Mekhl's, Ephraim Kalb, Blind Nahum, Crazy Chay'tzkeh from the Hekdesh, who used to make merry at Jewish festive occasions.

Even the cemetery is no longer there, because all of Tomaszow is one big cemetery, without any headstones.

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Here, I wish to relate a chapter concerning the cruelty manifested by the Germans towards a group of Tomaszow Jews immediately in the first days of The War, where in many other places, they continued to permit Jews in many other places, to be lulled by the false illusion that the fear of the Germans was entirely exaggerated. The messages that this group brought home, shook up the Tomaszow Jews, and showed them the true face of the German Beast, and what can be expected of it.

It took place on Tuesday, September 19, 1939, a couple of days before Yom Kippur. The prior Wednesday, the Eve of Rosh Hashana, the Germans occupied Tomaszow, but this did not mean that the fighting in the city was over. It was several days, since Tomaszow tasted the first of the German bombs on that Black Thursday of September 7. [At that time] a large part of the city was consumed in fire, and approximately 200 people fell as the first of the German victims. Up to the point that the Germans occupied the city, we were filled with the double fright of the continuously falling bombs, and shrapnel, and the fear of the German predators when they will seize the city, just as other of the Polish cities fell to them with lightning speed. However, in that moment when the fighting abated temporarily, a day before Rosh Hashana, Jews emerged from their hiding places. Part of them, immediately took upon themselves enthusiastically to go run to the ritual baths to immerse themselves in honor of the Day of Judgement, and a part of the people actually tried to talk themselves into believing that maybe the Devil was not so Black as he was conceived to be. Even the assault of the Germans, on a prayer quorum that was worshiping at the home of R' Yud'l Ader הי”ד, was ignored, and written off as a usual incident that occurs in every war. However, the residence of Tomaszow, pretty quickly had the opportunity, and maybe the good fortune, to immediately see the countenance of the German Beast.

On Sunday, September 17, the Russians commenced their march against Poland to occupy ‘their’ part, which they felt they had earned as part of the Stalin-Hitler Agreement.^[1] On that same day, Polish military units began to fight in the vicinity around Tomaszow, that had been concentrated in the surrounding large forests.

The house of my grandfather, R' Joel Scharfman הי”ד was the first horse to remain standing on the Krasnobrod Gasse up to the market square, where all the other houses were burned down, and many homeless neighbors sought refuge there. It was a thick-walled house, and it was seen as a better protection against flying fragments of shrapnel.

After having caught our breath from the bombs and the shooting, the outbreak of fresh fighting after the Germans occupied the city, threw everyone into a panic. The Germans then set fire to the houses that were adjacent to the house of my grandfather ז”ל, namely, the house of Mr. Yekhezkiel Zoberman הי”ד and other houses (as Mr. Zoberman later related, the Germans took him out of the house, and sending along several soldiers with him, carrying machine guns, he was ordered to go into the forest to warn the Polish recruits that

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they should surrender. When he explained to them that he was afraid that the Poles will shoot him, they said: ‘haben sie kein angst, gleich wie sie wurden derschossen, schiessen wir gleich zurück.^[2]’ The Polish military had already abandoned the forest by the time he got there with the German patrol). Our house then remained like an island destroyed and incinerated street.

As it happens, a German military contingent took up a position on the courtyard of our house, and they came into our house to do a search to determine if there were any Polish army personnel. They also looked for arms. They then order all the men out into the courtyard. We were all stood in rows, and we then suddenly heard a salvo, which the Germans fired over our heads, and ordered us to march to the center of commerce. There, we were all shoved into a small house. Everyone seated themselves on the bare earth. Bullets whistled everywhere about us. Among others, my grandfather R' Joel Scharfman הי”ד was there, my father Abraham Yekhezkiel Biederman ז”ל, my cousin Yisroel'ki Perel, R' Yaakov Shokhet ז”ל, R' Chaim Yaakov Shenner and his son Simcha, Meir Berger (Noah Greenbaum's son-in-law) and his brother-in-law Mendele Greenbaum, Falik Ritzer, Israel Koppenblum, Meir Lancer, and many others, whose names I have forgotten after twenty years.

After several hours, we were, again, lined up in rows, and taken in the direction of Belzec. We received a strict order to stay in line, in military sequence, with the warning that if anyone made even the slightest move to break ranks, they would be shot immediately. (That same day, my cousin Yeshay' Lehrer הי”ד was indeed shot, and a second group was take into custody that included Fyvel Holtz, Lipa'leh the Pious, and others who never came back).

The fighting in the city were at peak intensity. Bullets flew over our heads, and bomber airplanes flew low. Along the streets, one could see many bodies of dead soldiers, of frightful forms. We were made to stop for a short rest, near the new Spoldzielnia that had been erected with the objective of undermining Jewish commerce. From there, we undertook a further march in the direction of Belzec, (incidentally, we later became aware that only a short time after we had left the Spoldeszelnia building, a bomb hit it and destroyed the entire structure).

The German officers and soldiers all along our march route, upon seeing us, reacted savagely, with the meanest form of abuse. One German officer ran with an impetus for a length of several tens of meters, and with his entire savagery, struck my grandfather, R' Yud'l Shafran in the head, such that he could no long continue under his own power, and I, along with my cousin Yisroel'keh Perel, had to support him on both sides. (Of note, according to a letter that we later received, after the Holocaust, from an eye-witness in Sokol, that three years exactly to the same day, 6 Tishri, and indeed on the same road to Belzec, my grandfather was shot). His son, Mikhl Shafran ז”ל had been shot before this, in the house of the Judenrat in Sokol, where he was a member, when he refused to turn over a list of Jews to be taken out ‘for labor.’).

At nightfall, we finally arrived at Narol, where in a courtyard of a nobleman, full of harvested grain, there was a provisional camp of Polish prisoners of war. These grains of wheat sustained our lives, when for several days in a row, we received no food or drink. From time-to-time, we were ordered to gather at a specific point, where we were told we would receive food, but on arrival there, we were beaten, and spit in the eyes by the Polish prisoners, and then, still hungry, sent back to our ‘bunks’ on the bare earth, under an open sky. The Polish prisoners, seeing this (especially the ‘sluzhakehs^[3]’) began to show initiative in wanting

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to please the Germans, and exceeded the Germans with their torture and meanest abuse. They cut off beards, but not simply cutting them. In one case they would cut off the right side of the beard, and the left side moustache. In a second case, they entirely shaved off a once patriarchal white beard, leaving only a centimeter wide strip along its entire length, which had to hang down from the tip of the chin. In other cases, they cut out designs of swastikas in the head hair, and ‘Zed Zyd Palestina^[4]’ etc. – they also began to tear off our clothing and shoes, etc.

When a group of elderly Jews went to complain to the German officer, about their treatment at the hands of the Polish prisoners, the officer listened to them attentively. He then inquired of the German watch guards why these civilian Jews had been rounded up. They indicated to him that we had shot from our homes at the German military. Then the German officer and were the delegation by saying that we would immediately be shot. At that time, one of the most brutal scenes took place. German soldiers, with bared bayonets ordered all Jewish soldiers that were to be found among the Polish captured military personnel, were to be assembled in one place. The Poles assisted in identifying the Jewish soldiers, and when one of them categorically denied that he was a Jew, they ordered him to strip naked, and when it was definitely established that he was a Jew, his head was immediately split open with the butt of a rifle.

When all the Jews were finally assembled, a group of Germans with fixed bayonets began to prod us, and order us to run to the other end of the square. When barely catching our breath, we arrived there on the run, a second group of Germans was already waiting for us there, with fixed bayonets, and exhausted, we were forced to run back. And this is how the savage running back and forth began. The Germans prodded us with their bayonets, and each time butchered someone. They would stab one of the lancers in the foot, and another in the hand, and other yet, in other parts of their body, wherever they could only strike. This wild game of theirs, chasing people back and forth, and in the process panicking, stabbing, and laughing with the cackle of a hyena, went on for a span of time that to us seemed like an eternity.

We were ordered to stand ourselves along the length of a stone wall, with our faces to the wall. Opposite us, stood a German unit with guns pointed at us. We were notified that we were going to shot, and immediately we heard an order from an officer: Fire! We heard the count, one, two, three. We all had the feeling that this was our last few minutes. I remember, to this day, how I glanced to my side to see my father ע”ה, my grandfather, relatives and friends, for the last time. I recited ‘Shema Yisrael’ closed my eyes, and thought of my mother, brother, relatives and friends, who were at home, who would not know where our remains could even be found. Then the salvo came, but of note – I was still alive – they had shot over our heads. They played with our lives and took a bestial satisfaction from our fear of death. We were then ordered to surrender our watches, money, or other valuables, threatening us that if they found anything on our persons afterwards, that individual would have earned a death sentence. Everyone thanked God for this, and gave away everything that they had (Years later, I met someone who showed me a twenty dollar bank note that he had sewn into his clothing, and despite the threat of death, he did not surrender it.).

We were told that all the civilians were going to be set free, and the military prisoners were going to be taken further to a camp in Germany. The elderly among our group, such as my grandfather R' Joel Shafran, R' Chaim Yaakov Scheiner, R' Yaakov, the ritual slaughterer and meat inspector, Schneider, were told by them to follow a wagon drawn by a pair of hitched horses as far as the neighboring shtetl, where those local Jews helped them to hide. However, for the younger people, they devised a special attraction. Everyone was allocated a horse, to which they held onto a rope, and it was required to run after the horse as it galloped. All

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along the way that we proceeded on, Germans stood with whips in their hands, with which they whipped the horses, and we needed to run with the horses at the same pace. We ran with the last of our strength, falling frequently. The horses ran right over our bodies, until finally we were ordered to sit on the horses and ride. However, for us, this was a derisory salvation. Which of us, at that point, was capable of riding a horse? We jumped up on the backs of the horses, held on for a minute, and then in a rapid run, quickly fell off. We would, again, pick ourselves up, and immediately fall under a hail of blows from the riding crops of the Nazi attackers. I was totally bloodied, resigned, and suddenly, I decided that I could indeed ride. In that precise moment, when I thought that I had nothing more to lose, that I would get trampled under the horses' hooves, a miracle happened. I began to ride while sitting stiffly erect, like a veteran cavalryman, and won control over the horse. We rode like this until nightfall. All along the way, we heard the loud, mocking laughter of the Germans, who were near us. In the evening, we stopped somewhere in a field near Lubliniec. We were tired, hungry, frozen from the cold, because we were half naked, beaten down and resigned to our fate. The Polish soldiers did receive something to eat, but we – got nothing. We lay on the bare, damp earth. The nights were cold. We would array ourselves one next to the other, embracing one another in a long row, and warmed ourselves this way from each others' bodies. It was plain cold for only the first and the last person on their backs. Then we switched, and they also were able to get a little warm. Thoughts at that time were very sorrowful. The prospects for staying alive were, in our eyes, very weak. No food was being allocated, we were weakened, and if the Germans won't shoot us outright, we will simply fall sick from hunger and cold. The German officer called to my father v”g and ordered him to smell the food in his military mess kit, saying thereby: ‘Jew, you can smell the food, but you will get nothing.’ We were lucky once, to get a bit of water out of a clay pit, and Mendl Greenberg and I had a fight over it, tearing the little bit of water, one from the other, in order to moisten one's lips. At that point, the German officer intervened, and did not permit us to drink the clay water, because, heaven forbid, we might get sick. However, he did not permit any potable water to be given to us. He explained that all Jews are ‘Hore-Belishas^[5]’ who want to bring down Germany, and we, therefore, are enemies. We were also informed that we were being taken to an S.S. trial in Jaroslaw.

The next morning – Wednesday – we continued our march. Part of the time, the opportunity arose for us to be able to snatch a drink of water from peasants, who stood along the way with pails of water, and it was allocated for those Polish prisoners who were going by. We were not permitted to drink this water, however, every now and then, an opportunity arose to snatch a drink, at the precise moment when the German overseer had stepped away for a minute. For the entire time, each of us had two horses and he had to march between both and hold onto them (we were rarely permitted to ride). The pall of dust from the horses and the marching prisoners was unbearable. We almost didn't feel the hunger, but the thirst was unbearable.

We marched by a brook, and we were ordered to water the horses, but we were guarded to assure that we would not take a drink. The resulting thirst oppressed us mightily, and in marching by the brook, somewhere close to Sieniawa a number expressed the wish to just jump into the river, and for at least one more time in their lives, have a good drink, when even by doing this, there was a danger of drowning. I recalled the story of the exile to Babylon when the thirsty Jews were given pouches full of air instead of water, from which they died. The entire march was so reminiscent of that time, the same forms of torture, the same abuses.

On the eve of Yom Kippur I decided that I must ‘observe a fast,’ and if not with food, let it all least be through

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[abstinence from] drink. I was lucky to have found a rusty small can from fruit preserves, and every time that we marched by a Polish peasant who stood by and made water available for the captured Poles, I abandoned my two horses, jumped to him, and dipped off water from his pail and quickly drained it before the German overseer could notice what happened. Several times, I received a beating for doing this, but it was worth it. I had the feeling that this was granted to me as a consideration for the eve of Yom Kippur, when it is a mitzvah to eat and drink. However, after several of these fortuitous ‘operations,’ I once returned with my little can of water and established that one of my two horses had run away. I took account of what this implied. I was playing with my life. Everyone had two horses except me, who had only one. The German overseer immediately came over to me and said that it means a death sentence. Fortunately, an Austrian officer came by, who came over and gave me several blows from his rubber truncheon for my negligence, and he told the overseer that I would be tried for the loss of the military horse that evening, and dispose of the matter. It was in this manner that he worked out for me not to be taken by the patrol that had control of us, that would have immediately taken me away to carry out the sentence. Later on, the same officer acquired two additional horses from somewhere, and brought them to me, such that by nightfall at the time of Kol Nidre, when we came to the temporary camp to lodge for the night, I actually had one extra horse that I was supposed to have (interestingly, that in that first night in the camp at Narol. A German came to us in the middle of the night and comforted us by saying that ‘it is not forever that you will remain here…’). On the eve of Yom Kippur we also passed Stary Dzikow. Several German murderers on our guard patrol came to us with revolvers in their hands, and bragged in front of their colleagues that they had just shot three Jews. We spent the night of Kol Nidre on a large open square, surrounded by automatic weapons, which were fired from time to time, in order to frighten us and not to try and escape.

On the morning of Yom Kippur, the Germans – knowing in advance what day it was – made us line up at the precise end of the prisoners, such that the guards that ringed the marching crowd would be especially able to keep an eye on us. On that day, they did not give us any horses to lead, but instead, they devised something special in order to make us happy. They took two heavy boxes of ammunition, tied together with a chain, and hung them each time on our backs. And when that individual broke under the weight, not being able to proceed any further, they began to beat him murderously. When I was offered the honor of participating in this, my father ז”ל indicated that he would be in a better position to do this, in my place. They assured him that they had something extra for him, and this time, I would have to carry it. I had decided that under no circumstances would I carry it, since it was entirely too heavy for me. I laid down with the load in the middle of the path. In the meantime, our train began to march further. The German officer who rode through, found me underfoot, and he took the ammunition away from me, grabbed me by the ear, and in this manner riding at a gallop, dragged me back to the marching line. When I offered him the excuse that I was not well, and could not drag the heavy load, he answered that if I was not well, that I would have to be shot, so I would not infect others.

My friend, Shmuel Kaufman הי”ד, the son of the so-called Shokhet of Izdytycz, one of the outstanding pupils of the Yeshiva of Khakhmei Lublin, who was going along with me, was burdened with the same kind of load, and in that, was instructed to carry a bayonet at whose top a Siddur was stuck. He was ordered to hold his hand high, and not bend his elbow for even one second. His weakened condition, to which needs to be added a couple of days of hunger and suffering, made it impossible for him to do this, and as a result, they stabbed the bayonet into his elbow.

It appears, that in order to aggravates us further, they served us with a small bowl of soup on Yom Kippur day after noon. At about the hour of the Ne'ilah prayer, my father ז”ל was no longer able to continue. His bare feet had been cut up by the sharp little stones that were spread along the entire way. I was given a large hunk

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of wood to hold, under one arm, and I was ordered to lead my father ז”ל with my other arm. They began to whip my father ז”ל, and ordered me to sing. Unconsciously, the words to ‘Ani Amarti Mata Ragli.’ When I later oriented myself to what I had sung in that crucial hour of the Ne'ilah service, I felt bolstered and a home that ‘Your beneficence, Lord will sustain me,’ is already near. We forded the San [River] on our way to Sieniawa, and on the night of Yom Kippur we lodged in a large field. At that time, our train consisted of over twenty [20] thousand Polish military prisoners of war. Our group of Polish Jews were the only civilians. A light rain was falling. Completely exhausted and wrung out, I lay on the wet ground. We found a couple of raw rapeseed plants, but this disagreed with all of us. Everything looked hopeless.

My father ז”ל observed my condition, and took off through the field with a small bottle, looking for water for me. A long time went by, and he did not return. I became very upset, and when he hadn't returned by morning, my friend Shmuel Kaufman הי”ד and I decided to go and look for him in this large field. In walking across this large prisoner camp, we spied a civilian man in black clothing who was standing and negotiating with the Germans (he bought horses from them). Suddenly he turned to us and in Yiddish said, “Jews, what are you doing here?” We told him that we were being held here on a charge of conspiracy, that we had shot at the Germans, and [in addition] that we were looking for my father ז”ל. He gave us a wink, indicating that we should follow him. He told us to hide ourselves in the grain in the field, and then nearby, showed us a path by which we could, later on, reach the house of a Jew who would hide us in his attic. When the other Jews of our group saw that we also had disappeared, they thought that perhaps there was a way to run away and all hid themselves in a variety of places around the camp in the field. As it happened one individual hid himself in a haystack, and it was precisely there that a German watch was posted, Also, after the entire train of prisoners marched off, and he remained in that haystack for over two days, he had a chance to get out of there.

What, then, happened to my father ז”ל? Going to look for water to give me, in his underwear, and without shoes (because the other clothing had been pulled off of him) he went so far until he left the perimeter of the camp, where, indeed, he found water, and then attempted to get back into the camp, and to me. A German patrol then spied him, that had just relieved the previous watch, and evidently did not know that among the military prisoners, there were civilian Jews, and under the threat of shooting, did not permit him to come back into the camp. His entreaties, that he had left a son behind did not help him, nor that he himself was one of the inmates interned in the camp. He was forced to depart while being deeply concerned about my fate. This, however, was the beginning of the liberation of the entire group. When I later marched from village to village on the way home, overall, I was able to pick up messages from my father which he had left in each place that he had visited exactly one day before me, and bemoaned the fate of his son, that he had left with the Germans, in every place that he was. We got as far as Cieszanow. There, we met up with the Red Army already, and as Jews, we breathed a bit easier for a while.

On the first day of Sukkot we continued to march further. Arriving in Narol my cousin Yitzhak Meir Pflug הי”ד provided us with a small wagon to reach Tomaszow. Our parents, comrades, and friends, who no longer expected that we would return, were overjoyed to see us, however this joy did not last very long. Immediately on the second day of Sukkot, September 24, we became aware of the tragic Molotov-Ribbentrop Treaty, in which Tomaszow and all the other territories up to the Bug [River] will revert to the Germans. A severe panic gripped the city. The story surrounding what had happened to our group elicited a totally justified terror of the Germans. On Sabbath morning, I was called as an eye witness to a special meeting in the home of R' Yaakov Lederkremmer הי”ד, where our Rabbinical Leader, The Righteous Rabbi R' Leibusz Rubin ז”ל was present, along with many other of the important members of the community. After they heard out careful accounting of what we went through, it was decided that a recommendation would be made for everyone to flee from the Germans. The mass exodus from Tomaszow then began.

Because my father ז”ל came back sick, we waited a few extra days until my uncle הי”ד R' Mikhl Shafran הי”ד traveled to us on Simchat Torah from Sokol, and told us that the Rebbe of Belz had come to Sokol on Shemini Atzeret and indicated that it was a mitzvah to

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flee on Yom Kippur that falls on the Sabbath – but in the few days until we left Tomaszow, very heated debates took place in our house as to whether we really should abandon a Jewish city, that had been this way for hundreds of years, and desert it. R' Pinchas Barass and R' Yaakov Arbesfeld of ‘Mizrahi’ were among the daily visitors, and strongly defended the standpoint to remain in Tomaszow, and not undertake to wander, and many of this group indeed remained in Tomaszow until the time of the later expulsions to Cieszanow and Belzec, which put an end to the long-rooted Jewish community in Tomaszow-Lubelski.

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The Ludowy (Tchayneh)

On a certain day, I borrowed two pails, and became a water-carrier. I carried water to the balebatim of Tomaszow. On the market day of Thursday, I would water the peasant horses, and my situation did indeed improve. I was no longer hungry. On the Sabbath, I ate at the home of Gut'sheh Schwartz ע”ה, and I also slept there. And in this manner, I remained a water carrier up to the outbreak of The [Second World] War. And in order that the readers know who I am, I will refer to myself in the same way that I was called in Tomaszow, Mott'l the Hoarse. And seeing that I consider myself a citizen of Tomaszow, I will, here, convey the experiences that I went through in the time that I was in the hands of the German murderers.

On the Sabbath of the beginning of the month of Heshvan of 1939 (I do not remember the exact date), I along with Maness Unfuss, and two boys from Warsaw, were at the home of Abraham Dorenbash (Baylah Mekh'leh's), when two small gentile boys came in with two S.S. bandits, and informed that here were Jews. We were led off to the Ludowy. On both sides of the street, many of the local (gentile) residents were gathered who were making fun of us, and laughing as different groups of Jews were being led by. At the entrance, stood the janitor of the Urzad Skarbowy who had in time become a Volksdeutsch with a thick truncheon in his hand, and whoever entered, he greeted with blows, such that the threshold became drenched in blood. When I entered, I saw a frightful sight. Approximately 300 Jews stood half naked, with German soldiers on one side, and on the other side, S.S. murderers with truncheons and staves, and were administering a continuous beating. Their most intense rage was poured out at that time on Eliyahu Shtruzler. From him, they demanded gold and money. He was beaten to the point that he was unrecognizable. Afterwards, Eliezer Bergenbaum was severely beaten. They also demanded gold from Gerson, and also beat him very severely. After that, everyone was beaten in accordance with their position in the row, and everyone was searched, and everything they had was taken away. Falek Ritzer was ordered to sing the Hatikvah and everyone else was compelled to sing along with him.

Afterwards, we were taken outside half naked, and ladders and sticks were placed under our feet to cause us to fall, and the laughter from the gathered gentiles hurt very much. After this, we were all photographed. We were harassed in this way until night time. At night, a German approached us and asked who among us can speak German. Falek presented himself, to which the German said that he was giving a deadline of three days to leave Tomaszow.

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The entire assembly began to flee to Bayrakh'eh in the mill (that is to say near the border^[1]). Arriving there, a fresh, frightening picture unfolded before my eyes. Men, women and small children lay out on the street, because there was no longer possible to get into the mill. We lay out in the rain with small, sick children. The crying of the children torn the heart. Two Germans, apparently from the border, permitted a pair of thin trees to be cut own, in order to build a fire to warm the children. One Jewish man, however, tore a couple of boards out of a fence, and as if growing out of the grown, the gentile owner of the fence appeared, and shouted out loudly that the Jews here would cause him a misfortune. As punishment, the two ‘good Germans’ ordered Shaul'keh (Fat Abraham's son-in-law) to climb up a thin, tall tree and then let go with his hands, so that he will fall down. Pitiably, he had to climb up, and indeed, immediately fell down. He was carried into the mill and I do not know if he survived.

The people exhausted themselves in and around the mill for a couple of weeks. Men fell down, children begged for a morsel of bread, a bit of water. Twice, I risked my life and returned to Tomaszow and brought back bread. I also brought water on a continuous basis. I must also note that many Jews remained in Tomaszow, apparently these being the ones not in the Ludowy, or they figured that the Nazi murderers were not after them.

With enormous energy and exertion, on one night, I crossed the border illegally. I arrived in Rawa Ruska, where I met up with our Red ‘Liberators.’ With this, one chapter in my tragic experiences came to an end.

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The great tragedy of Polish Jewry was bloodily inscribed in the history of oppression of the Jewish people. The Jewish cities and towns of Poland were exterminated, smashed and burned, together with Jewish lives, together even with the cemeteries, and among them, our little town of Tomaszow-Lubelski in which every span of earth, every stone was covered with Jewish blood, that cries out, demands, and asks: why?….

In the month of December of the year 1939, when it was after the German bombs began to suddenly fall on the houses of the hapless shtetl, which each father and mother mourned their [personal] victim of that tragic Thursday, a severe cold winter began to draw near, accompanied by cold rains and snow. Dark angry clouds raced over the skies, just as if they were coming to announce dark and devastating news. The entire Jewish populace sat in their homes, and out of fear, would not utter so much as a word. On a certain day, I think it was a Saturday, several groups of German murderers went out to seize crippled people, the insane, and also the sort that sat around the church to beg for alms, also crippled (to this day I do not know if the Germans realized that the cripples that they seized in front of the church were not Jewish). The first victim was Pinia'leh Khazer'l, as he was called, Bayrakh Schuster's son. He was diminutive in size, and bent over to a side, and he limped on his small foot. Along the way, the German lifted him up in the air with a hand, but did not drop him, in order not to make his death an easy one, but rather, dragged him to the cellar where Joseph Fyer sold kerosene, and he threw him in there and locked him up with a large lock. Our local gentiles took great satisfaction from this spectacle. Afterwards, they met up with a son of Sadlik, who was deaf, dumb and blind, standing by his former home that was near Mordechai Bergerson (The Red One) and was banging on the door. Pitiably, he had no notion that a war was going on in general, and against the Jews, in particular. Two gentile hooligans were dragging him by the feet and threw him into the cellar as well. After that, they threw ‘Crazy Shayndl'eh’ [into the cellar], who let out such frightful screams that it tore the heart. Later on, they threw in ‘Crazy Taibl'eh’ along with a number of other impaired womenfolk, whose identity I did not know. The doors of the cellar, on which the large lock was hung, could be compressed to a small space with a push. The following morning, the German murderers grabbed about ten Jews and gave them large pails, and ordered them to bring water from the pump was not far from the cellar space, and told to fill the cellar with water. Under wild screams and severe beating, the Jews kept on pouring water into the cellar. The victims stood on the steps as the cellar became more and more full. The frightful wailing cries and screams and the banging against the doors could move a stone, but it did not move the stone-hearted gentiles. The fear of death that we experienced at that time cannot be imagined by anyone. And so, it was in this fashion that the Jews poured water in for several days, until it fell silent, and even a whisper was no longer heard. Then, a large flat wagon was brought with horses, and the door was opened, and the dead bodies removed. The deaf and dumb person and one other woman still moved their mouths, as they were taken to be buried. Where this was, I do not know.

May the Nazi murderers be cursed for generation unto generation. All those who were in the ghettoes, all the partisan fighters, all those who survived the terror of Hitler's assault and system of extermination, and all those who, by some miracle, managed to save themselves – all of us were orphaned. Our fathers, and mothers, sisters and brothers, children, friends, teachers and pupils, fell. Even at our most joyous celebrations, a shadow of sadness will remain, for the Tomaszow martyrs who fell as victims to a variety of terrifying deaths.

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Sheva Kempinsky-Krieger

With the outbreak of the war in the year 1939, I, and my husband, San'eh Nadler, and my four beloved sons, full of heart, remained in Tomaszow under the Germans. When he emerged naked and badly beaten from the Ludowy (Tchayneh) he became swollen, and went deaf. When they began to seize people to do forced labor, I his my sick and broken husband in the cellar, and under fear of death, I went off to the village to try and bring in a bit of food, at that time already wearing an insignia .

Once, on my way back from the village, a few young gentile girls recognized me, even though I had hidden the insignia in my pocket. They held me back firmly. Two ran off quickly to report to the Gestapo, that they had caught a Jewess with potatoes. When I saw that I was lost, I told the young gentile girls that all I wanted to do was enter a house that was at hand, in order to take something. From there, I fled through a back door, and I immediately ran home. When the [other] gentile girls arrived with the Gestapo, I was understandably no longer there. Accordingly, they took the woman to show where I lived, with the threat that they would otherwise take her. When this woman and the Gestapo arrived to the house where I lived, I had, in the intervening time, hidden my children and husband in a different hiding place.

A short time thereafter, I observed that the situation of the Jews was getting worse day by day. People were being shot for the slightest trifles, and every gentile had the right to rob and kill Jews. On a certain day, I paid a gentile in a village quite dearly to take my husband on as a shepherd. I also paid yet another gentile, quite dearly, to take on my older boy as a shepherd. Mt three children would go into the fields to harvest some grasses, or just leaves in general, or scavenge the waste dumps, in order to sustain their lives. At that time, the surveillance in the city had become so tight, that it was no longer possible for me to go to the village to see what was happening to my husband and child. On a specific day, an order was issued to the gentile populace that if a Jew was found with anyone, they would receive a death sentence. Understandably, my husband and son returned to Tomaszow.

The first aktion took place in the year 1942, in the month of Adar (Purim time). In accordance with an order, all men and women over the age of 32 were required to present themselves on the plaza during the course

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of the day. My husband and I, and our children, fled out of the city, and hid ourselves for two days. When I returned, it became clear that all of those who had presented themselves were taken away to Cieszanow. From that moment on, understandably, we became illegal. Jews up to the age of 32 received identification booklets, but we, meaning myself and my husband, and the children, did not have such booklets. We wandered from house to house, and with tears in our eyes, we sought refuge from the Jews that had such booklets, and were legal [residents]. It is axiomatic that each of the Jews was frightened of the prospect of sheltering people like ourselves. Having become aware that many Jews had returned from a variety of hiding places, the Gestapo went around with many gentiles from Tomaszow, from house to house, and shot those that they encountered who did not possess a booklet. Once again, fate toyed with us, and once again, my husband, children and I were saved, hiding in a bathroom. I am not in a position to give an accounting of how much Jewish blood was spilled on that terrifying day and night. And it was in this manner, that we exerted ourselves in frightful hunger, and need, that cannot be imagined by any human conception.

At that time, the Judenrat consisted of Yehoshua'leh Fishelsohn, Neta Heller, Abba Bergenbaum, Yaak'l Arbesfeld, Yeshay' Kruk ז”ל, and others. From my perspective, I must remark that our Judenrat did the best that was possible within their means, to help the already half-dead Jews, with advice and action.

The second aktion took place on the second day of Shavuot. In accordance with a strict order, men, women and children were ordered to present themselves at the plaza (I do not recall the age requirement). They went around from house to house, and with wild shouting, drove everyone out. Once again, the opportunity was available to me, my husband and children, to flee out of the city, and to hide ourselves with a gentile, whom I paid very well. The gentile hid us until a few days after the aktion. Once again, we returned, and became aware that everyone, men, women and children, had been loaded on vehicular transports and taken to Belzec, where the people who had previously been taken to Cieszanow were also taken to Belzec on that same day. The wailing cries of the victims in that gruesome night could be heard for miles. The weeping of the children split the heavens, and tore every Jewish heart, and those, who did not want to get into the transportation vehicles, were shot. The dead body of Itcheh'leh Nitz rolled around underfoot near the vehicles.

Being illegal once again in Tomaszow, I went into the Judenrat. The President, Yehoshua'leh Fishelsohn ___ had by that time been shot, along with his wife and child, and his place had been taken by Abba Bergenbaum. With a sympathetic cry, I begged him to determine if it were possible for him to obtain a booklet for me, so that I could be legal, and offered to give up the last of my jewelry. Crying himself, he answered me: My, child, you should only live! With the jewelry, or without the jewelry, with booklets, or without booklets, we are all lost. Go ‘home,’ and to the extent you can, rescue a bit of bread in exchange for the jewelry.

Once again, I exerted myself, under great, frightful suffering, on behalf of my husband and children, in hunger, in need, and under constant fear.

Before the Holidays, an order came out that all the Jews who are illegal are permitted to gather into the Piekarsky Gasse. Six houses had been prepared for them, that they will no longer be harassed, and the houses will not be entered and they will not be shot. In a matter of several hours, everyone had moved in there, including me.

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Two weeks after the holidays, I noticed that the members of the Judenrat were going about in tears, wringing their hands, and I asked: what happened? I was answered that on that evening, the small remnant of Jews was to be exterminated. And immediately, the Gestapo, with the help of our local Polish residents surrounded all of the houses. Along with my husband and children, we ascended into the attic, taking along our little bit of jewelry And a bit of water. At night, we were already able to hear the tumult and the frightful screaming and the shooting of the remnant of Jews. R' Aharon Kiezel ז”ל shouted out: today is the last of my seventy years! And with a choked Shema Yisrael, he was shot. One of my children, in taking a bit of water, spilled a bit, and two gentile hooligans noticed that water was running down. They immediately went up into the attic, and found us with electric searchlights. Wildly, they shouted at us to get down. With tears in our eyes, we begged them to spare our lives, and that they should take whatever they wanted from the house, and I give them my bit of jewelry in addition to that. They cooperated and took us down, and showed us to flee in a certain direction, and by following the back roads, we ran in the direction of Werchanie, because there, my parents had negotiated to work in the service of a nobleman.

On the way, we encountered a woman Christian acquaintance, who asked to where we were fleeing. I told her everything, and that we were now going to Werchanie to my parents, perchance we might be able to hide out there. The Christian woman then said to me: Don't go there, because a couple of hours ago your parents were shot along with eighteen other Jews. They are still lying out on the yard -- -- -- no person in the world can possible grasp what went on in my bloodied heart at that moment. Understandably, we no longer went to Werchanie, but instead we went into the forest near Werchanie. I left my husband and children in the forest, and I went into the village to beg for a bit of food, and at the same time begged for a shovel, and dug out a deep pit, and it was there that we lay. I roasted beets and potatoes that I could beg for in the village.

We lay this way in the pit for three months, cooking in a broken pot, which I had stopped up with a rag, and in this manner, I melted snow in order that the children might have a bit of water. We became very, very filthy. One time, I managed to beg a small pair of scissors, and we all cut our hair. We lived this way in frightful hunger. The sorrow of my children cut my aching heart. The slightest rustle of a leaf startled us into a state of terror. This persisted until a day, when six gentile hooligans came upon us, and ordered us out of the pit. I was the first one out, and from the shot that I heard, I fell over and was covered in snow. However, I immediately heard the scream of my husband, along with my four children who were then shot. When it fell still, half fainting, I was able to hear the quiet groaning from my dying children. I looked about and saw no one, apart from the five, still warm bodies of my nearest. At that moment, a terrifying cry broke out of my bloodied heart (At that time, I was still able to cry). --- I still had enough heart, so that I was able to turn them over with my own hands, and with their faces upward, kissed them all, and fled barefoot, not knowing to where.

I arrived at a field, and seeing a haystack near a house, I went into the straw, thinking that God would take pit on me, and that I would become so frozen that I would go to my eternal sleep. But, as if the spite me, death would not come. Spending the entire night in the straw, my feet and hands were completely frozen – something I suffer from to this day – but my heart would on no account give out. In the morning, a gentile with a cart wanted to gather some straw, and took note of me. Upon seeing me, he became very frightened, because who knows what I looked like at that moment. He took me into the stable, and gave me good food to eat – to this day I cannot understand how it was that I could eat at that time – and he said to me, that he really did take pity on me, but that he was very frightened about keeping me, because to shelter someone who was Jewish was punishable by death. I thanked him profusely and left. But where to go?… In leaving the village for about two kilometers, I noticed an old broken-down ruin. I entered it, and remained there for two weeks. Each night, I went into the village, and begged for a small bottle of water with a piece of bread.

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On a certain day, several S.S. murderers came to the ruin (it appears that someone had informed on me) and with wild shouting they shouted: ‘Kom heraus! Kom heraus!’ I did not respond. They went away. But it did not take long before a large contingent of gentiles arrived with picks and staves, and shouted that I should come out. Once again, I did not respond. So they began to dismantle the ruin. Seeing my plight, I jumped down and through them in one breath, and took off running for the forest which was not far away. Nobody pursued me, and I only heard how they were shouting: this is a lunatic, and not a partisan fighter. Entering the forest, I fell, banging up my swollen, frozen feet. Blood flowed, and I wept intensely. I begged for death to take me already, just so that I would not be killed by all of the various bandits. It was in this manner that I lay a day and a night. This was already the year 1943.

In the morning, I fled, and came to a colony that consisted of about ten to fifteen houses. I came into the residence of a gentile woman, and begged for a piece of bread. Her husband was sitting there. With fear and astonishment he said: O panie Kriegerowa, jeszcze zyje? How is it that you survived till now? And he immediately ordered that I be given food, and after eating, he offered me a small bottle of milk and a half loaf of bread, and told me to go on my way, because he was too afraid to keep me.

I went outside, but did not go away, but went under his house, where it was possible to crawl under the flooring. There I laid for a whole night and a whole day. At night, I went inside again, and I was once again given food, and told to leave, and once again, I crawled under the floor. And in this manner, I lay under the floor for two months. Later on, the lady of the house became aware that I was hiding myself under her floor. She took pity on me, and many times placed food for me underneath, so I would not have to come inside at night. Understandably, her husband, who was the Soltys, and her children, were not allowed to know where I was hiding myself.

One day, the lady of the house, she was called Manya Frotz, said to me that I must leave the place, because tomorrow, the Gestapo was supposed to come for grain and swine, which was due to them on a periodic basis. I was compelled to leave, and came to Werchanie, that is, three kilometers from the colony. Upon arrival, I entered the first house of the village, and speaking with a very emotional and tearful tone, they took pity on me, and I was given food to eat, and warm water in which to bathe. However, when I commenced to take off my shoes, the skin and nails came off my frozen and swollen feet. He told me to crawl on top of a warm stove and on the morrow, he brought me a salve for the feet. They kept me for two weeks, and afterwards they told me to leave, because they were afraid to keep me any longer. Over this period

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of time, my feet healed a bit.

Once again, I had nowhere to go, so I hid out in his livestock pen for a couple of weeks. At night, I procured food for myself. I was very mindful of the master of the house, lest he discover that I was hiding in his livestock pen.

On one occasion a gentile took note of me in the livestock pen, a pair of wild and frightened eyes looked me over, and he speedily fled. However, by the time he had returned with other gentiles, I was no longer there. From a distance, I saw a number of gentiles going into the livestock pen. I returned to Manya Frotz, under the floor, and let her know that I was back, and once again, in strict secrecy, would bring me food, and once again, I remained there for a couple of months. Seeing as the grain had grown high, I began to conceal myself in the grin stalks by day and by night.

On once occasion, when I had come to a gentile woman to beg for some food, she said to me; listen well, you need to know that very many of our people here know that you are hanging around here for a longer period of time, but nobody is going to inform on you. Apart from this, there is one informer, and he is called Jan Skraban. If he doesn't turn you in, you will survive. Therefore, you need to be especially careful to avoid him. However, life had become too much for me to bear by this time, and I no longer had the strength to exert myself and drag myself around through the rain in a frightful state of hunger. On one occasion, I had taken the decision to go directly to this Jan Skraban and to let him turn me in, or kill me himself.

In entering his presence, and greeting him, he asked me: Oooh, dziecko zyjesz? And before I could answer him, he told his wife to give me food, and told me to crawl onto the stove, and this ‘informer,’ kept me for a couple of months. From time to time, if Germans were supposed to be in the area, he would hide me in the field. I helped them by working around the house, and also in the field, if there was no one to see. Until -- --

Until the news was bruited about that the Russians had arrived. From my throat, a joyous shout erupted: Freedom!

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