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Abraham Singer, immediately after the war, in a Russian uniform

Chaim Jonah, son of Sholom Singer one of the shtibl youth in the Cieszanow shtibl

The literature of our most recent destruction is still very meager, and the destruction itself is so frighteningly huge, therefore, the principle of ‘whoever is excessive in his retelling’ holds, and is explicitly a great mitzvah. And therefore, let my retelling be an important supplement to the history of our great catastrophe. Let it be a reminder for each and every one of us, to dedicate time and effort to put up exactly this kind of a monument to our murdered, and cut down shtetl of Tomaszow-Lubelski, which once was, but no longer exists. Despite the fact that I make a strenuous effort, and I endeavor a great deal to concentrate my thoughts, My skin crawls as I recall with what frightening deaths my nearest and dearest were martyred in Sanctification of The Name.

My family and I lived in Tomaszow from 1933 onwards, and I think that every resident of Tomaszow knew R' Sholom Rachaner. Relatively speaking, we lived rather well, despite the fact that Tomaszow was a small, poor shtetl, and the poverty was great among many. Anti-Semitism was rife with its fully open force, such as nie kupuie o zydow, don't buy from a Jew, and picketing of Jewish businesses. In general, the gentiles had a wary and hateful posture towards the Jews, and it was not only one Christian who regarded my fatherע”ה as a very honest man, looked upon him with a so-called ‘pity’ what a waste that he was a zyd. Gentile hooligans, at every opportunity, displayed their anti-Semitic faces, and would throw stones, knock out a window, or generally perpetrate all manner of mischief. It was in this manner that we existed, externally struggling along, insulted and beaten down, but! Internally, among ourselves in the Bet HaMedrash, it was entirely different.

Proud Jews, scions of the great Jewish people, elevated by a deep faith in Jewish continuity, ‘The Survival of Israel is no Lie,’ this was the strength that enabled us to endure. I cannot forget the imposing picture on the Sabbath or a Festival Holiday in the Tomaszow shtibl. It was simply not possible to recognize the same Jews consumed by worry – refreshed, enthusiastic Jews, having cast off the middle of the week secular garments of the Diaspora, together with the nightmare of exile, a holy spiritual fire flamed in their hearts. The heartfelt singing of the Sabbath prayers with such fiery passages a ‘and the saved will go up to Mount Zion to judge Mount Esau,’ – this warmed and was a balm to Jewish hearts of the Tomaszow Jews. This was their spiritual armor. And in passing, I want to add that every Sabbath it was mandatory that we entertained a guest. And if it happened, on occasion, that in the Cieszanow shtibl there was no guest, my father ran around looking, until he found a guest. This all took place in the past…

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With the outbreak of the Second World War, at the time of the bombardment on the first Thursday, when Tzal'keh Reis fell near my feet, and whose father ע”ה had come to take a bit of linen on Friday for a burial shroud, which he could not get from anywhere – we, the entire family, immediately left for Rachanie on Friday where a partner of ours lived, R' Zund'l Goldman. On the same day that the Germans entered Tomaszow, they also entered Rachanie, and the first thing they did was take out all of the [holy] books, prayer shawls, and burned them. Also, they cut and tore the beards of everyone with a murderous sadism, and also beat them murderously. My uncle, Hirsch Freund ע”ה (a brother of Shlomo from Laszczow) was in a second location, when they came to take away a Torah scroll from him. He strongly resisted this, and he went outside with the scroll and shouted: You can do what you want with me, but I will not give you this Holy Writ. The murderers skewered him with a bayonet, and he died in an excruciating manner. We buried him in Tomaszow only after making a very strenuous effort.

In about two weeks time later, several Germans arrived, and exactly at 12 midnight, they set fire to the house in which we three families were living. We barely got out with our lives, and went to live with a Jew that was still to be found in Rachanie, Yosh'eh Springer (a brother-in-law to Eliyahu Schnur and Leibusz Rachaner). After a week's time, the murderers came back again, on Friday towards evening, and again set fire to the house. The gentiles were already standing around with water, to keep the fire from reaching their houses. We saw that we were lost, what was there to do? Where does one go? These were the questions hanging on everyone's lips. A sympathetic cry tore itself from everyone's broken hearts. My father ע”ה went off to Wozuczyn, where Mordechai Tsunk lived, who had permitted us to come and live with him. Staying there for a short time, they began to seize Jews for slave labor in Belzec. It was described as the creation of a border fence, and for this purpose, it was deemed necessary to dig out long, deep trenches, which the murderers needed to fill with the Jewish victims. Several days later, an order was issued that everyone was required to surrender their overcoats, and to resist this would incur the death penalty. The S. S. murderer Schultz conducted an inspection among us, and confiscated everything that he wanted. I arrived, and happened to see what was going on in the house, and I fled. He shot at me a number of times, but didn't hit me. I was saved by a miracle. It was under such bitter conditions and frightful fear of death that we exerted ourselves in working in the fields of the nobles, without any pay, to be able to possess the so-called Ken-Karte which was the card that permitted us to keep on living for a while yet.

On the eve of Passover 1942, Neta Heller and David Schwindler arrived in Wozuczyn, and told us that they required money, if we can comprehend this, to help the poor for Passover. We gave them as much as we could. At that same time, he told us that there was a big aktion in Lublin, a result of which fifteen thousand Jews were deported to be exterminated.

On the second day of Shavuot, an order was issued that all Jews that were found in the villages were required to present themselves in Rachanie on the square near the municipal building, and understandably, myself as well. On the square, a sorting took place to the left and right, and in that process, heart-rending scenes took place. Beatings with rubber truncheons, feral shouting by the murderers, the terrifying cries of the hapless victims, the laughing of the peasants who were standing about – I do not know how we held ourselves together and kept from going stark raving mad. Whoever had a Ken-Karte was let go. My father ע”ה, who was among the elderly men, was already among those to be taken away. However, the nobleman Redich came from Pawlowka and said to the murderers (point to my father ע”ה) that he was in his employ, and that he was a very good worker, and he made a fervent request that he should be set free. The murderers set him free. Those not set free were loaded onto wagons and taken off to Belzec for extermination.

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On Rosh Hashana, an aktion took place in Tomaszow which was already supposed to be Judenrein. In Wozuczyn nothing (of this nature) happened at that time, but something else took place. It became apparent that the Germans were coming to procure grain and swine, so all of us men fled to hide ourselves in the fields, and the womenfolk remained in the houses, assuming that they will be left alone. The bandits arrived with a savage onslaught, and gathered all the womenfolk in the house of the Soltys, and told them all to strip naked. However, not a single woman wanted to carry out this insulting order. So, they were singly taken into the house of the Soltys, and one sat on her head, and they were then beaten. The shouts and screams blew out the ears. On return, I did not recognize my broken mother – with a split open head, and wounds all over her body, black and blue from bruises received in beating. I remained standing frozen, my heart inside of me cried out, why? Why? And it was in this way that each of us recognized their unfortunate ones, and we had nothing with which to offer them succor. Everyone clearly knew that the misfortune was not yet over. And so it was that someone asked, how is it possible to hold on to one's soul under the duress of such terrifying fear?

I worked in the Mechelow sugar factory with other people from Tomaszow, Yaak'l Arbesfeld ע”ה of the Judenrat, for whom there also was no more room in Tomaszow, and several other Jews from Tomaszow, who by a variety of indirect means fled, and were working in the sugar factory. All of the workers, including those from Tomaszow, lived in a barracks in the sugar processing complex. I was given permission to ‘go home’ to sleep, meaning, two kilometers to Wozuczyn to my parents.

On a certain night, several S. S. murderers came, and went off to the Soltys. They did not spend a long time there, and immediately went away. My father ע”ה was greatly upset by the speed with which they departed. He went to inquire of the Soltys, and the Soltys said that they hadn't come to inquire about the Jews, but rather about grain and other matters. We went to sleep. I used to be the first one to get up, say my prayers and go to work. Such was the case now – however, when I opened the door and wanted to go out, my heart fell. Our house was completely surrounded by a crowd of gentiles with sickles, axes, pitchforks, and barred my way. I immediately woke everyone, and we saw that the Angel of Death is making fast towards us. Now, we understood the previous nights visit of the murderers to the Soltys. Immediately, we heard the shooting from Mechelow where 65 Jews were tortured and shot. Seeing in what sort of a situation we found ourselves, sitting for those unfortunate hours in the house, surrounded by so many bandits, we ran about the house like wounded beasts in a cage. We wept, and tore the hair from our heads. We had already given up and did not believe there could be any rescue. However, the fear and terror of impending death became a choking in our throats. My mother ע”ה stood frozen and struck dumb, unable to move like a rooted tree, without being able to move from the spot. We recited our confessions with heart-rending cries. My father ע”ה called me over and said: Listen to me, Abraham, you must remain alive and I hope that you will remain alive, you must save yourself, but promise me that if you survive that you will never forget that you are a Jew. I have to note, that to this day, I do not understand why he called me over and not my brothers. But his words instilled an awesome strength in me, to find a way to rescue myself from this unfortunate life. At exactly six o'clock, the S. S. murderers arrived from Mechelow. My father ע”ה sat in his prayer shawl and phylacteries, and wanted to go out of the house this way. However, I beseeched him to take the prayer shawl and phylacteries off, in order that the gentiles not make sport of him. Rather, I asked him to put on his overcoat, because it was intensely cold outside, and I also tried to comfort myself with the possibility that they might just send us away. But he did not want to put on his overcoat, because he suspected that it was made with Sha'atnez.^[1] It was only after strenuous exertions that he was persuaded to put on the overcoat. The first wild shout was

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for the two women to come out, at which my mother and sister exited. They were ordered to lie down on the ground face down. After that, two more women, who were made to do the same. When they were finished with the women, they ordered two men to come out, so my father ע”ה and my brother went out, and when they lay on the ground waiting to be shot, my father ע”ה asked the S.S. man for permission to take off his overcoat before he is to be shot. The murderer permitted him to do this, he took off the overcoat, and lay down. And so they shot my father and brother, and in this fashion two men were taken out and all were shot (P.S. The gentiles later told me that, from the incident of the overcoat, they had concluded that my father went crazy, but I knew the real story).

Continuing to search for some means to escape, I noticed the feather shack that was there, and I immediately went into it. As it happens, there was a bundle of straw there. I unbound it, and stretched myself out along the wall, on the ground, and camouflaged myself with the bit of straw, and while lying against the wall, watched the entire terrible scene that surely could not have been worse than Hell. And to this day, those images, that stand before my eyes, give me no rest, and torture me, and assure that I will never forget them for the rest of my life.

The murderers counted up the dead, and saw that their tally was incomplete, because they had 22 dead, and their list showed 23, meaning that one victim was missing. The Soltys examined all the dead, and indicated that Awramku was missing, but that I work in Mechelow, in the sugar production complex, and it was because of this, that they didn't search for me. And so it was that I lay unmoving, feeling, at any moment that my heart would stop.

The bloody corpses lay sprawled about on all sides. All around, tens of peasants stood around as onlookers, who by their so-called looks of sympathy took great satisfaction at the Jewish calamity. Afterwards, a table was put out, on which all manner of good things were placed. Whiskey and wine flowed like water, and there was a variety of baked goods and meat that the gentile preparers had previously set aside, who now danced about subserviently for their guests. The wild and gleeful laughter reverberated, and after each glass of whiskey, the murderers applauded ‘Bravo!’ and sang the Horst Wessel song. At the same time, the corpses were still quivering.

After finishing off this piece of work, the S. S. murderers, drunk and happy, went away. It fell silent, and on young girl, Reizl Kupiec, the daughter of Avram'cheh, a friend of ours, was not struck by bullet, lay bloodied among the other women. When the murderers went away, she picked herself up and with all her strength, began to flee. A laborer who actually worked for them at the mill ran after her for a couple of kilometers, captured her, and brought her to Rachanie to the Gestapo where she was tortured and shot.

In a little while, at this location, several wagons were brought, and the corpses were piled on. Stiffened hands and feet, and bloodied heads, hung down from the wagons, and swayed with the rhythm of the wheels, and along the entire length of the way, human blood continued to drip, which in long red lines, wrote out the sorrowful tale of the lost innocent lives. This was the silent language of the spilled Jewish blood that the accursèd earth imbibed in its thirst. To this day, the mystery remains with me, how in the course of three quarters of an hour, approximately, the wagons with the corpses returned to the same place where they were shot, and a deep pit was dug out, and all the victims thrown in. Into the mass grave were also tossed the burned bodies of two Jewish families that lived not far from us. This was Baruch Herschensohn with his family, and his brother-in-law Moshe with his wife Frad'l and their children. When they heard what was happening to us, they committed suicide by immolating themselves.

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I was still lying in the little feather shack. Hearing that all was now as still as a grave about me, I was barely able to raise myself, but on no account could I stand on my stiffened feet. It was now about ten o'clock in the morning, and literally, with the last of my strength, I emerged from my hiding place, but where to go? How does one rescue one's self from a death that continuously stalks you? I began to run, not knowing where. Several gentiles took note of me, but remained as silent as a dog not willing to bare its tongue, possibly out of the great respect that they had for my murdered father ע”ה. One of the gentiles shouted after me, ‘Awramku, uciekaj do lasu….’^[2] and I fled in one breath.

Coming to a field where there were stands of grain, I sat down to catch my breath. After sitting for a half an hour, the watchman came by, and upon seeing me, he became very frightened, and began to shout that I should flee already, and if not, he will have to kill me. I ran off and came upon a pit. I went down into the pit, and sat till nightfall. I began to shiver from the cold, and I felt that I was going to freeze, that I am congealing into a single block. What does one do? A stream of tears suddenly burst and flowed from my eyes. It was only now that I fully grasped the entire scope of the calamity that had befallen me and those around me. I forced myself out of the pit with a head full of ignited ideas. Outside, it was secretively still. Two heavy, hard hammers pounded on my temples. A heavy load lay on my heart, and before my eyes stood a thick cloud, and all of the tortured, and shot persons, that I had spoken with, not very long ago. I closed my eyes, and I also saw them with outstretched hands, and how much sorrow there is in the world, that in that precise moment had been poured out on me.

I was reminded of a gentile who was well-known to us, who would transport our flour to the train. I went o f to him for a long while. Entering his courtyard, I hid myself under a small woodpile. I was afraid to go into the house, because of the possibility of encountering neighbors. A couple of hours later, he came out to take some wood, and he espied me. He nearly fell down out of fear, and quietly asked me, Awramku, you are still alive? Or, have you returned from the World to Come. I wanted to say something to him, but on no account could I open my mouth (to speak). He remained standing for a while, in thought. He went into the house, apparently to take counsel with his wife. After a while, he came out and told me to go into the livestock pen, and he will immediately bring me something to eat. I went in, an indeed, immediately, he brought me warm potatoes and milk. And no matter how strange this may sound, I ate with a ferocious appetite. He made me a lodging spot next to the dogs, and that is how I lay for the entire night. I was exhausted and broken, but could not sleep. In the morning, he again brought me food, and he asked me what I had in mind to do. I was still unable to speak. I thought that I had been struck dumb. He saw that I was unable to speak, and he went away. After several days, I first then began to speak, first to myself. When he came in to me, with tears in my eyes, I said to him, if he could permit me to stay until March, when it would get a bit warmer, I will then go away into the forest, and hide myself there, and from time to time, I would come to him for a bit of bread. He began to laugh. Why he laughed, I did not understand. As he left, he said to me, ‘glupie zydzie.’^[3] In this manner, I remained with him for two weeks. When he carried food into the livestock pen, he would call the name of the dog, Babycz.

[One day], his wife came in, tearful and wringing her hands, telling me that a great misfortune had befallen her. Her husband had been arrested. ‘The Germans are certainly aware that we are keeping you, and I beg you not to bring any misfortune to my home, only that you flee, because they can still come to do a search.’ A darkness descended over my eyes. With an embittered heart, I left after nightfall, but I had no place to go.

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I was afraid to beg, and so I went along aimlessly, lost in thought, and the thoughts ran one over the other, and in laboring over these severe nightmares, I did not notice that I had stepped onto a frozen river, and the ice broke under me. I sank under the ice, and only with great difficulty and intense struggle, did I barely get out, and from the intense cold, I froze into a single block. I saw, and felt that I was going to pass out, and I began to beseech the Lord that He should take my soul. In the meantime, I saw a livestock pen, and I stealthily entered it, since if the gentile caught me, he would surely have killed me, but to me, it was by now all the same. I dug myself into the hay, and lay there for two days, without food, but every now and then, taking a bit of snow in my mouth. Hunger oppressed me severely, and I could not work out that I would expire here. I went back to my gentile, without his knowledge, and hid myself in the very same corner next to his dog, as I had done previously. The dog recognized me, and did not bark, and I lived like this for two weeks, eating the rations brought for the dog. Nobody knew that I was there.

In two weeks time, I saw that the master of the house had returned, and I began to make myself visible to him. With choked back tears in my eyes, I told him everything. He gave a deep sigh, and said to me, stay here some more with me, but you need to know that I am doing all of this because of your father. And in this way I stayed with him not only till March, but until the middle of summer. Each day, e would tell me of the terrifying, and gruesome predations that the German murderers wreaked upon the Jews, the various aktionen, to which he was close to see. He told me that, in Tyszowce the Germans burned a Christian family because they were found to have been hiding a Jew. However, he said that the day of their great defeat was not far in coming, and he comforted me, seeing the effect that his narrative had on me and the degree to which it made my hair stand on end.

On a certain day, it was very hot outside, and I emerged from my lair, and puttered around in the livestock pen, knowing that everyone was in the field. As it happens, at that precise moment, the daughter of the master's sister entered, who, as it happened, along with her father, did not get along with the master because of certain inheritance matters. And she noticed me. I immediately felt that everything was over – – she turned white with fear, she said nothing, not knowing what was going on. She knew me, and thought that I had been shot, and yet, here I was alive, and is to be found under her uncle's protection. She wanted to get away. I oriented myself quickly and said to her: ‘Stepka, remember! My life, quite possibly, is no longer worth anything, if your father becomes aware that I am here under the sufferance of his brother-in-law, in which case, he is placing the life of his brother-in-law and his family at risk. My life is spoken for already, and your life is also put at risk ( I threatened her) so I beseech you, as much as God loves you, let this incident, where you ran into me, remain a secret forever.’ She promised me that she would tell no one. I remained yet afraid, and I asked her to swear. She knelt and crossed herself, and swore that this will remain her secret. She went away, and the secret truly did remain a secret.

One day in 1943, I began to suffer, since Yom Kippur was drawing near, and I did not know which day it was supposed to be. This preyed on my mind for a whole day, and gave me no surcease. At night, I dreamt how my father ע”ה came to me, and told me that the coming Sabbath was Yom Kippur, and that I should not forget to fast. Naturally, I fasted that Saturday, and etched that day into my memory, in order that, should I survive, I would be able to verify that I had properly fasted on Yom Kippur. As I later verified it, this was the correct date.^[4]

On a certain day, the master of the house came to me, falls on me and bursts into tears, telling me that tomorrow, along with the entire family, as is the case with all the other residents of the village, he must leave

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the village. They received this order because this place was to be occupied by Volksdeutsche who had been evacuated behind the front lines. He, himself, does not know where he is going, but it causes him pain in his heart, not knowing what is to happen to me. He would have unquestionably taken me along, but I look too Jewish, but more to the point, he is afraid of his own comrades, who know who I am. He immediately brought me several pieces of bread, several bottles of milk, and he embraced me and took his leave, wishing me success, and he hoped that we would yet live to see each other after the liberation, which seems to be so near, and he then departed with his family. I remained unable to move, what do I do now? I have nowhere to go, and death lays in ambush every step of the way. In the morning, I ascended into the attic and looked out at how the Volksdeutsche began to arrive, encumbered with livestock, horses, and occupied the neighboring villages, including the section where the master of this house lived, which, incidentally, was the prettiest corner of the village. And each time, a family of Volksdeutsche would approach, looked around, and then went to look elsewhere, since the place didn't meet with their approval. After sitting like this for a couple of days, the master of my house returned in stealth, to have a look at what was transpiring, how his house was being occupied. He saw, however, that nobody was living there, as was the case with neighboring houses. I gave him a signal that only the two of us knew, and he came up into the attic. I relayed all the details to him, that I had assembled over the course of the couple of days, such as the fact that nobody seemed to want to live here. He said he would wait another two days, and then, if nobody was living there, he would return to live there. After two days, he returned with his entire family, and he told me that he believed it was in light of the fact that only because he took care of me, that he was privileged to see his neighborhood spared by the Volksdeutsche, and from this day forward, he would never be separated from me. And this is how I continued to live. He even gave me better food to eat.

It pained my heart greatly that I was not able to compensate this decent gentile for his goodness, for his dedication, and for putting his own life at risk for me. Accordingly, I recollected that we had hidden some cut goods which we had from our dry goods business (P.S. We had a dry goods business in Tomaszow in the Halles, not far from Ber'keh'leh Tregerman ע”ה), near the miller. When I told my master that I wanted to go to the miller, which was about a two kilometer walk, and to bring back a bit of goods for his benefit, he strenuously dissuaded me from doing this, and told me that he doesn't need this. He was afraid that if I go, the miller will, God forbid, kill me. I did not obey him, and on a certain night, I went to the miller who lived near the mill. A Volksdeutsch had already taken over our mill, who lived in the same house as had been occupied by the miller. I approached it and looked into the window, to see if there were any unfamiliar people. The dog began to bark, and a son of the Volksdeutsch emerged to see what was causing the dog to bark. I immediately approached and knocked. The miller opened the door, and admitted me. Upon seeing me, he became very frightened and shouted: Ty Awramku jeszcze zyjesz! You, Awramku, are still alive! – Yes, I replied vigorously. He asked me to sit down, and began to tell me that there is discussion going around about you, Awramku, that you along with a whole band, had assaulted the master of the mill on a previous night, beat him and robbed him as an act of vengeance for taking away the mill from you. I argued with my comrades that you had been shot a long time ago, and now I see that, indeed, you are alive. My heart started to pound when I saw his thieving eyes sparkling with fire, nevertheless, I controlled myself, and asked him to give me a few pieces of merchandise that had belonged to us, because I want to use it to save myself, to be able to procure some bread with it. I – I told him – lay hidden in the forest. He told me he would give me this.

On the same Monday, someone knocked at the door. I do not know who knocked. He went out, and immediately came back in. I asked him what was this all about, and je said to me not to be afraid. This was his brother, and he had asked that which shift he had to work at the mill. I felt, however, that he was not telling me the truth. In the meantime, he took out some whiskey, put it on the table, and he said, let us drink

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to the fact that you have remained alive. A tooth is a tooth, and he began to press me, but he sensed that I was impatient to leave, and so he let me depart. He took me by the hand and pulled me back, indicating that I should eat and drink, indicating that I certainly must be hungry, almost shouting at me. I tore myself away from him. Going about 30 meters from the house, I hear shouting: ‘Halt! Halt!’ So I began to run. Looking back, I saw a whole cohort pursuing me, so I began to run even faster, and they began to shoot at me. A bullet struck me in the hand, from which I was lightly wounded. To my good fortune, the workers at the sugar factory came out, who were leaving for the day, and I went into that crowd, and at that point they stopped shooting. An is not the fate of man wondrous, the workers made a path for me, making it possible for me to flee, thinking that I certainly was one of them, running from a danger. I lay on the ground and crawled along in this manner. It was dark and black just like in my heart, until I managed to crawl to a bale of straw, and was able to observe from there how they were searching for me with searchlights. Not knowing what had become of me. I lay this way for a longer time, and eventually dragged myself back to the master of my house. I told him everything in my hideaway, and he told me that he had heard shooting and as a result, he first went to look for me, and not finding me, he was already certain that I had been caught. He said further, Awramku, I have told you again, I have asked you not to go. – I went through a variety of other tribulations, and it is simply not possible to write about all of them.

A period of time later, the master of the house said to me that a strange family had been drawn into his yard, and because of this, I can no longer remain in my hideaway, but that he had dug out a pit for me in the pig pen. It was bitter for me there, because I could not sit, but only lie down. I lay there for five weeks, until one day, the master came to me, and grabbed me around, and began to shout: ‘Awramku! The Soviets have arrived! Liberation! Liberation!’ He shouted and clapped his hands. I fainted dead away. I awoke in the house lying in his bed.

After the liberation, my pack of troubles had not yet come to an end. Only now, only now was I able to begin to feel all the pain, all the tribulations, all my darkest experiences. Looking about and seeing that I was a sole survivor, like a stone, without my nearest and dearest, without friends or relatives, all alone, where a sea of enmity continued to rage about me. Vengeance! Vengeance! This is what may bloodied heart wanted to cry out, but which Jew does not shrink in fear from simply the mention of the word, ‘vengeance,’ which is at the same time not understandable. And yet, in our Holy Writ, and in our prayers, we do not shrink from this concept. In the Pentateuch we read: Deut 32:41( meaning that I will return vengeance to my enemies and I will repay my enemies). In our prayers we find^[5]: (sing ye nations of his people, because he will avenge the blood of his servants). And do not Jews pray each Sabbath that He should take vengeance for spilled blood. Yes, the pain is deeply cut into my heart. The sea of the blood of our martyrs and heroes seethes and boils, and from the depths of those unrequited waves, the cry of vengeance reverberates, Take Revenge!!! But how – – –

When the Red Liberators arrived, I wanted to immediately run out, but my rescuer did not allow me to, and said to me: You were able to lay in constant fear for over two years, so please remain for a couple of days more, because I am far from certain about our own people. You must not forget the conversation that I had with my friends. Yes – I said – I still remember every word.

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This had taken place a while back, when all of the friends of the master of my house gathered at a time when they were bursting with Jewish plunder. A conversation took place outside, not far from my hiding place, and I heard every word. One said that the talk was about that Awramku was alive. My master then replied, yes, yeas, indeed, I heard this also, and he asked what was to be done with this rascal if he were encountered. There were a variety of opinions. One said that he would immediately turn me over to the Gestapo. A second said that as something special, he would not have the heart to kill him, and thereby, proudly proclaimed that, with a simple rock, he had bludgeoned two Tomaszow boys to death. A third one said that seeing that he could not stand the Germans, they did well that they had slaughtered the Jewish bloodsuckers. My master said that if he encountered me, he would butcher me with a pitchfork. Later on, he asked me what I thought of this exchange. I told him it suited me just fine. It was of that exchange that he now reminded me, and that for the time being, I should not dare to go about outside, until he could establish the intention of his own circle of friends, and what their current attitude was towards Jews, and only after that, would he tell me what I had to do.

After several days, he came to tell me that I can emerge, but to be very careful about where I go, and where not to go. He also advised me to go out at night, in order that my staying with him should continue to be a secret. I gave him to understand that Stash, it would be a great honor to recognize your great heroism in that you hid me, and with my entire heart I want to reward you. Now, I wish to give away to you, along with everything that I own. He answered me, Awramku, you do not yet know. Firstly, the war is not yet entirely over, and the atmosphere towards the Jews remains frightful, and wherever a Jew is encountered who had pitiably managed to hide, he is killed immediately. The enmity that all this time had been sown against the Jews has not been uprooted. So pay heed to me, do not go anywhere and remain hidden with me so long, that even my friends remain unaware until such time that the environment completely quiets down. And the only reward that I ask of you, is never to tell anyone who it was that saved you. Apart from this, I require nothing from you. I fell upon him and kissed him.

However, I found myself unable to sit still. Freedom tempted me greatly, and on the second day I made myself visible in Wozuczyn. All the gentiles from the area came to gaze upon the great wonder. Everyone said that I had hidden myself in the forests. After a few days, the master of my house told me that several Jews were to be found in Tomaszow. I then asked him to take me there. Phlegmatically, he hitched up his horse to the wagon, and took me to Tomaszow, taking me to the outskirts of the city, and dropped me off. The first Jew I encountered was near Czyszakiewiec's mill (on the road to Zamość), he was a Jew from Jozefów, by the name of Shanish Dakh. He looked at me, and I looked at him, each of us terrified of uttering even a single word. In the end, he was the first to speak: One of our people? Yes – I replied. We kissed one another and made each other's acquaintance. I entered the city and met up with Simcha Reis, Yeshay' Bergstein and his brother Benny, the children of Raphael Bergstein, and also Shevakh Nadler, Sani Nadler's wife, and Chana Weissleder, and a few other Jews from Jozefów. It is not possible to convey the great joy of these few who managed to survive. Each one had something to tell about their bitter experiences. We all lived in the house of Raphael Bergstein, figuring that this was the safest place, because it was not far from the Russian command headquarters.

We began to search for the means to sustain ourselves. We began to travel from one city to the next, to bring a variety of articles that we could sell. However, the roads were very risky for a Jew to travel, and therefore, I would put on Russian clothing with a borrowed automatic weapon, and travel together with the Russians. After several months in Tomaszow, we received a letter that we were to place 25 thousand zlotys on a small bridge, and otherwise, we had no place in Tomaszow, and at the same time threatened us with death. It was signed N. S. Z. We put the sum, as indicated, and told no one. Eight days later, we received a second letter

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in the same vein, for a sum of 50 thousand zlotys, and if we made this public, it would not happen. We saw that this was bad, and that there was no end to it. In the meantime, the Starosta called upon us, demanding to know why we were not presenting ourselves for military service. In regards to myself, our group said I was their Rabi, and the rest were broken and ruined from the devastating tragic experiences they had gone through. He let us go. We all fled to Lublin, where more Jews were to be found.

Later on, I came to the D. P. camps in Germany, and I got married, and went off to that oft-dreamed of land of our fathers, the Land of Israel. I remain to this day with a broken and bloodied heart, and can never forget the terrifying deaths inflicted on my dearest, who fell so gruesomely in Sanctification of the Name. Give great respect to their sacred memory.

(P.S. With the master of my house, I am to this day in constant contact. He writes to me constantly as ‘My Dear Son,’ and from time to time, I send him a package).

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Chana Ruduler-Krieger

The Germans uncover a bunker and drag out the hidden Jews; A sick Jew lies on the snow and the woman shivers in the cold. They are searched by the Germans.

Not far from Tomaszow Lubelski only a few kilometers away, was a small village called Jarczow, or as it was called Gmina, Powiat Tomaszow Lubelski. At the outbreak of the war, I an my family remained in Jarczow. Immediately, the local gentiles sensed that their time had arrived. At the beginning, they threw stones at every Jewish home, and afterwards they came in to shoot, even before the Germans arrived. With the arrival of the German murderers, a frightful Hell was initiated. The first victims began to fall. A pursuit was initiated immediately, as well as seizure to be put to a variety of forced labor, such as gathering up rocks using one's mouth, polishing autos, digging ditches, rolling on the ground, sweeping up the streets with one's hat, cleaning outhouses barehanded, and a variety of senseless tasks that only the devil could devise. Tens of Jews paid with their lives at the hands of the most frightful torture. One woman, already badly beaten, with her hands and feet broken, was thrown to the ground and run over with an automobile. And as the hapless woman lay dying, the murderer, without any pity, put a bullet through her heart. One Jewish man was tied to a wagon, and at the same time, dogs were sicced on him, and he was dragged through the streets until his body remained an unrecognizable mass of flesh, black and red from scabs and blood. This was how, with a variety of spectacles, various tortures, tribulations and abuses, hard bitter labor, plunder, shame, and shooting, became daily happenings.

Later on, there was a Judenrat, that consisted of Yehoshua'leh Fishelsohn, Neta Heller, Yaak'l Arbesfeld, Yeshayahu Kruk, Abba Bergenbaum ז”ל as well as a German Jew named Melman, about whom, regrettably, I have nothing good to say. My heart is too badly broken for me to tell everything about this German Jew, but it is possible that in passing, I will be able to tell something. This very Judenrat was charged with

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providing a specified number of Jews every couple of days, for work in Belzec, from which nobody ever returned.

I began to wander, not lodging where I spent the day, with hunger torturing me frightfully, and fear even more. I hid myself with various gentiles that I knew, however, nobody wanted to keep me for more than two or three days. It was in this manner that I crawled around, like in a chicken coop, until the month of March 1942, when an order was issues that men and women over the age of 32 were required to present themselves at an appointed time at the square (I think it was on the Piekarsky Gasse), to be taken to Cieszanow, and later to Belzec. At that time I stood to be imprisoned. What was going on in my heart at that time, no one can imagine. Blood ran from my eyes.

Suddenly, a tumult ensued, Gershon Sheps'l's (Roitenberg) arrived late, and he was shot on the spot, along with several other Jews that I didn't know. At that time, Jewish blood ran like water. I shudder at the memory of the frightful wailing that I can hear to this day, and I believe that the pitiful cries will always haunt me. In the midst of this tumult, I placed my life in danger, and for a long time, began to distance myself from the square. To this day, I can see the two eyes of a policeman who noted that I was distancing myself from that location, and who said nothing, or perhaps it was my frightful fantasy at the time that made me imagine this.

With very difficult exertion and exhaustion, I was, once again, able to beg a gentile to hide me. He kept me for several weeks, until one time he said to me that he can no longer do this, because he is terribly afraid because the penalty was death for concealing a Jew. With tears in my eyes, I begged him intensely but it was to no avail. At night, I went away, and knocked at the door of yet another gentile who knew me. He wondered greatly that I was still alive. He took me in and kept me for a bit of time. One time, he came to me in a state of heightened agitation, telling me to flee at once, because the Gestapo were here already, and he does not want to jeopardize either his life or the life of his family on my account. I saw that pleading would be of no avail, and I had no sooner gone out, when I was apprehended by the Gestapo, who beat me severely and took me to the marketplace. At that location, there were already many Jews who had been seized from their hiding places, and among them were my parents, four brothers and one sister, who had been hidden by various gentiles, which I personally was unaware of, and never even thought about once. Only one God knew whether they were even still alive.

This was on the second day of Shavuot, or better said, May 22, 1942, at which time the second aktion commenced. All the Jews of Tomaszow had been gathered, as well as those from the entire Powiat, such as Jarczow, Laszczow, and from other vicinities in the area, and all together, were begun to be driven to Belzec, taking away everything that we had. We were told that we were being taken to do labor, surrounded by S. S. murderers with weapons and long whips, with dogs and Jewish police from Piesk. Anyone who was unable to proceed was beaten murderously. Along the entire way, one or another person was taken and shot. I, along with my entire family, went to the colony. Inside of my, my heart cried, because I knew I was going on my last journey. When I asked a Jewish policeman where we were being taken, he answered me sarcastically, ‘What? You don't know where you are being taken?’. I saw that I was lost. My thoughts raced quickly, one thought flying past the other, and from my subconscious came a cry: ‘Chana, save yourself!’ Every fiber of my being cried out: ‘So long as there is time. Live! Live!’ The idea was not to surrender to the murderers and, indeed, not die an ignominious death.

We were all taken to Belzec, and driven into the dark barracks and locked in. I took note of my father in the barracks, an a friend of mine, Golda Wolf. We were well guarded by police, and we were penned in on all sides. At night, I approached my father and said to him, ‘Father, I intend to flee.’ He began to weep intensely,

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and he said to me, ‘My child, save yourself if you only can, let there at least remain some memory of my large and well-branched out family. I hope to God that you will remain alive, and be able to tell what the German executioners made of us.’ I went over to my friend Golda Wolf and said to her, that it was three quarters the way through the night. I flee, I said, come with me. – I am very much afraid – she replied, and did not want to accompany me. Quietly, I opened the door, and heard the last intense groan from my father ז”ל. Immediately I felt a strong blow from a Jewish policeman. It was very dark, and not looking, I crawled towards the barbed wire on all fours, and I scratched myself up from the barbed wire, and got out. I went back ‘home’ through the woods and back roads. A gentile told me that my little sister Pesha, age 9, was still here. I, personally, do not know how she disappeared from the barracks at Belzec, where she was with my mother and brother. However, as she told me, she employed a stratagem similar to mine. The gentile hid me in his livestock pen. At night, he would bring me a couple of potatoes, a piece of bread and a bottle of water, and sometimes a couple of beets.

On a certain day, the gentile told me that the gentile at which my sister was hidden had told him that in two days time he is going to turn over my sister to the police, because otherwise, he will not be able to get rid of her, and he doesn't have the heart to kill her himself, as others were doing. My skin crawled when I heard this. Over time, I crawled out of my hiding place, and went over to the gentile that had my little sister, and stole her out of that place, and brought her back to my hiding place. The master of my house, on becoming aware that we were [now] two, became so enraged, that he picked up an axe, and threatened to kill us on the spot, if we both did not leave immediately. Go to Faladow, he screamed, that's where your Zyds are hiding! I went off to Faladow with my sister, and indeed, we met up with a pair of Jews that had saved themselves. They advised me to attempt to bribe the Soltys with a sum of money, and that the Soltys will then give me a letter to a nobleman of the area. In the letter, the Soltys is to write that I am known to him as a good and diligent worker, and that I will work for him without pay, and the essential thing was that the nobleman needed to sign that I will be freed from internment in Belzec (P.S. I was aware that a few people who had bought such protection, had been let go from Belzec).

The plan greatly appealed to me, and I began to implement it. However, the question remained: what to do with my little sister? How can I take her along to the Soltys? Perhaps the Soltys will turn me over to the police. No! I must not place my sister's life at risk. And only with very strenuous effort, was I able to have her concealed with a gentile woman, and by myself, with a pounding heart, went off to the Soltys. When I greeted him, he became frightened. With a sympathetic whine, I told him what it was that I required. He took pity on me. I put a sum of money on the table, which he did not even count, and he gave me the letter that I needed. I thanked him profusely, and went off to the nobleman. Upon coming into the presence of the nobleman, I fainted away out of fear. I was revived, and when I came to myself, I told him my story with tears in my eyes, and gave him the letter from the Soltys. As soon as he had read through the letter, he immediately composed a new letter that since I had been freed from Belzec, that I now work for him, that he is extremely satisfied with my diligent work, and he asks of the Judenrat that they should issue me a card with the status that I have been let go from Belzec. I thanked him from the bottom of my heart.

And now, the most difficult part begins. How does one access the Judenrat? If I go, wearing the insignia, I would invite the attention of every ruffian to prey on me, or plain kill me for the great nerve that I had to simply be alive. But to go without the insignia, would also place my life at risk. I took the second option. I hid the insignia in my wallet and came into the Judenrat where a darkness immediately settled over my eyes. I became aware that the card that needed to be issued to me had to come from the previously mentioned German Jew, Melman. He immediately began to scream at me as to how I manage to get myself out of Belzec, and that he was going to investigate the matter, as to whether I was telling the truth, and that I should return

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the following morning at that time. With a bloodied heart, I left. I asked myself, ‘where does one go?’ There was no point in returning to the nobleman without the card. I reminded myself of the domicile of Chana Heller's daughter, Basha, in which I knew the secret entrance and exit. On top, everything [looked] like it was hammered shut and closed. I spent the night there, and in the morning, returned to the Judenrat. Herr Melman told me that he could not yet issue me a card, perhaps tomorrow. The following day, I returned yet again, and again, he told me to come back the next day. Chana Heller's daughter Basha told me to offer him something as a bribe. I did this, and as I came in, I placed 1009 zlotys on the table along with a small gold watch. Smiling for a long time, he counted the money, and without so much as a word, issued me the card. With shining joy, I ran to Bash to tell her the good news. She told me that since it was now late, that I should spend another night and return to the nobleman very early the next morning. I listened to her and remained for the night.

As soon as I fell asleep, I began to dream a dream (which I will never forget), that I was in a very nice house, and beside the house is a very tall mountain, with very beautiful, tall trees, very pretty ambience, and that in the trees, there is a very deep pond, and that I am standing right at the edge of the pond, ready to fall in. With all my strength, I am holding on by the tips of my fingers, and I feel that I am just on the verge of falling in. Suddenly, a great, strong wind begins to blow, and carries me away. I awoke, bathed in a cold sweat. I no longer was able to sleep, but waited instead for the dawn that had to come, so I could go off to the nobleman with the most fortunate card [in my possession]. Very early, it was a Friday in the month of June, all of us, about 14 people, took note through the4 cracks of the shutters, that tow Gestapo men were coming near to the entrance (apparently someone had taken note of it, and had informed of its location). Momentarily, a great tumult erupted, with everyone fleeing to the attic. One person screamed, another cried, yet another said his confession, hollering ‘Shema Yisrael,’ I saw that this time I was truly lost. One of the Gestapo men remained standing by the door, and with outstretched hands and in a loud voice, laughed wildly, and shouted out: ‘Ach, wo ist das möglich so viel Jüden schmutzige ist nach da?’^[1] – Boldly, I stepped up to him and retorted: ‘Ja jestem Polka, prosz mnie przepuscic.’ And I walked right through his outstretched arms. I do not know if he was [momentarily] confused by my boldness, or not. The second murderer, however, aimed his automatic weapon at me as if to shoot. So I did not attempt to run further, but rather, with vehemence, walked up to him unafraid, and used the same words to him, shouting at him I was Polish, and that he needs to let me through. The first one also let me through, saying that all I had done was come to visit the Jews. I do not know if he understood everything that I said, he just made a move with his hand for me to move off, and before I had even gone 10-15 steps, I already heard how they were shooting everybody else, and indeed, the grave of that entire family is at that house.

I went off with very measured steps, and afterwards ran in the direction of Sznury. Entering the house of a gentile and asking for a bit of water. Neither living nor dead, I went further into a forest, and waited for nightfall, and at night came back to the nobleman. They thought that I was no longer alive. At the same time, they informed me that all the Jews in Failed had been seized, along with my sister, and they had been shot. My poor, dear sister. My dear father and mother, and brother, where are you lying? I don't know! I ask myself from where is it that I am able to summon the strength to tell all of this, to write all of this down, that causes the pen to spit fire and blood, with the fire of the soul, and the blood of my wounded heart – – –

Another order that was issued was that whoever will turn in a Jew, will receive 100 zlotys and 20 kg of sugar, and if a Jew is to be found in the shelter of anyone, that person will receive the death penalty. As a result,

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the nobleman became fearful, and he gave me to understand that he was in danger because of the card I had, and when the Gestapo arrived, he hid me in the attic or in the livestock pen.

I began to feel that the earth was on fire under me. I went off to Tomaszow, to the priest who knew me well. He used to buy from us, and with tears in my eyes I begged him to save me, because only he was in a position to do so. However, under no circumstances did he want to do this, and he chased me out with great vigor. I went off to Masha Rothenberg ( I knew where she was hiding) and asked of her, what are we to do? How can one save one's self? She told me that she knew a Christian that can create ‘Aryan’ papers for me, forged, as you understand. All I need to do is pay 600 zlotys and give him a picture of myself. Understandably, I agreed to this, and gave 600 zlotys with my picture, and on that same day, had such a passport in my possession. I returned to the yard with a lighter heart. Along the way, Polish policemen accosted me, and threatened me with their fingers, and then let me continue onwards.

Coming back to the nobleman, or as he was called Pan Poplawski, and showing him my new passport, with my new name, Anna Fedina, occurred precisely at the time that a sister of his was sitting there, visiting him as a guest, from Cracow. I began to weep bitterly in front of his sister, and told her about everyone, and how my entire family had already been murdered, and asked what to do, and how to save myself, now that I had such a passport. She heard me out thoroughly, and I took note of tears in her eyes, and she said to me: Listen, the one thing I can do for you is the following: On such and such an hour, a transport will be passing through from Laszczow. Make it your business to arrive at the last possible moment, when the transport is actually moving, so that you will not have to tarry there. Travel in the direction of Lublin. The Germans there are seizing our Polish women, to be sent to Germany to do [forced] labor. Even though I do not know what sort of work they do, it could be quite heavy labor, they do provide food, and they permit you to live. I am also giving you my address, and you are to write to me often, and I want you to call me Cizociza. Your letters will most certainly be [opened and] read, and as a result, they will see from whom the letter comes, and where you come from. Hopefully in this way, Holy Jesus will protect you from all danger, and you will live, and survive this terrible war.

Immediately in that same week, on Tuesday (a lucky day), I arrived in Laszczow exactly at the moment when the transport was beginning to leave, and as paradoxical as it looked, I was looking for Germans to seize me for work, to be sent to Germany. However, the entire journey was uneventful, and I was not seized. In Lublin, I went into an official agency, and strenuously wept that a friend of mine had been taken for labor in Germany, and that I want to see her. I was written up, but not legitimized. I was held there for several days. That location was a gathering place for seized people that had been arrested, seized on the streets. Afterwards, we rode to Germany in a freight train. We were not given any food. I managed to beg a but of bread from one gentile woman, telling her that I had been seized, and my family doesn't even know. Silently, she cursed the Germans, that oppress the Polish people so, but her one consolation was that no more disgusting Jews would remain in the world.

We arrived in Germany, and entered a camp which was in a wooded area near Dessau. There, we were divided up into barracks of 20 women in a room. We were allocated frightful, heavy labor, in digging canals, digging ditches, etc. For food, we received 200 grams of bread, and at night, a soup. We hungered enough. In a while afterwards, we took note of six Jewish girls, one from Janów Lubelski, and two from Warsaw, and three from Lemberg. We made an effort to sleep together, meaning, one next to the other in the event that someone cries out, or talks in their sleep, calling something by its name in Yiddish (P.S. There were such instances in other barracks, where girls shouted out Jewish words in their sleep, and in the morning, they

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were immediately taken away. The entire camp seethed with the nerve of these Jewish women, who had managed to fool these pure Aryan Christians, leading them around by the nose).

On a certain day in 1943, I was badly upset when all six of the Jewish girls were taken out for an inspection and afterwards, they were all shot. To this day, I do not know how they were exposed. It was said that it was because of the correspondence that they carried on, or because of something else, I do not know. I tried to put on a normal face with all my might, but the inner fear of death sapped me of the essence to survive. In a couple of weeks, they began to investigate me. One Christian woman actually went to the point of saying that she had a feeling that I was a Jewish woman, and indeed, she conveyed to the Gestapo that she harbored this suspicion. On a certain day, as I was returning broken, from the day's work, exhausted and deathly starving, I was told to appear immediately before the Gestapo. A darkness descended on my eyes. I went, and was already certain that I will not come back alive. A blond fat German with two predatory eyes, asked me about a variety of things, and in the end, he told me to tell him the truth, as to whether or not I was Jewish, even though he, personally did not believe so. Yes – I said to him – I am Jewish, and laughed heartily. The German became very confused, and apologized copiously to me, and dismissed me. On the other day, I had received a letter from Cracow, with a picture in it of my ‘Cizociza.’ She wrote to me that she misses me very much, and she wishes to live for the moment that she will be able to see me again. I wrote a full-hearted letter back to ‘Cizociza,’ and understandably, this helped me a great deal in causing the suspicion about me to dissipate. But immediately, a short time afterwards, I sensed that I was being scrutinized as to how I handled myself, how I speak, as to whether I gesture with my hands when I speak, and they began to watch me at my bunk where I slept. I had a feeling that I would not be able to conceal this, because I simply was too afraid to sleep. I wept over my dark, bitter fate, only in the outhouse. But, once again, a miracle occurred on my behalf. Since I was counted as the best and most diligent worker, and earned a good reputation, I was sent to work privately for a German family who developed a sincere affection for me. Here, already, I had enough to eat, and in this fashion I remained with this family until the end of 1944.

At the end of 1944, the camp was evacuated to Blankenburg. Lessing Platz, the German for whom I worked, fervently requested that I be allowed to remain with him, but this did not help, and right along with all the others, I was transferred to the second camp. I was immediately put off upon my arrival. There were several thousand men there, assembled from a variety of camps, bandits, thieves, prostitutes, and a variety of other underworld elements, and in addition to the great and difficult labor, the word was out that everyone here would be exterminated. And indeed, every day, someone new was shot. I was here, where I had fallen into, and on one clear day, I fled and went into the forest, and hid myself in a tunnel. I sat there for three days, and the hunger oppressed me mightily. Accordingly, I came out, and it was already the year 1945. I already saw the Americans fighting the Germans. I still had the strength to ask for a bit of water from a German, which he gave me. The shooting died down. The Nazi beast finally lay buried.

Sabina Keitel		Herman Keitel

In passing, I wish to recollect a Christian by the name of Lianewski, a grandson of a Polish Admiral, who would constantly come to Susiec from Warsaw for a variety of reasons. I became good friends with him. He would eat and sleep at my house, and I never wanted to take money for this. He told me that for this hearty friendliness towards guests, he would never forget me. And, indeed, this was the case. When the Jewish people were drenched in blood, he did not forget me and my family. In a later part [of my writing], I will have the opportunity to write more about this gentle Christian man. I also had a very loyal Christian friend from Warsaw by the name of Wiszniewski, who would visit with me on a variety of occasions, at which time I would present him with the very best. He, too, did not forget me later, and as we later became aware, Jewish blood flowed in him, because his mother was Jewish. All of this was before the Holocaust.

With the outbreak of the war, and with the arrival of the German bandits, the frightful nightmare did not skip over us. And it seems to me, as if it was just yesterday, that a third of our people were killed out on all of the battlefields in Europe. Six million Jewish victims on the altar. Can we at least take an accounting of the number of six million tortured fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers, small children, old people, friends and acquaintances. But how can we take this count, for surely we would go out of our minds. We are also, in this way, a high-strung people. But each surviving Jew is missing half or all of a family that were exterminated by a variety of deaths that only highly refined sadists, the dregs of humanity, could conceive. The spilled Jewish blood boils and seethes, and it cannot be stilled. The heart-rending cries and the weeping of the tortured little children still ring in my ears, the pleading of the little children at the feet of the murderers. The transports, that came to Susiec every day, stand before my eyes, carrying the hapless Jewish victims from Susiec to those paths that led to extermination. It is these frightful scenes that I will never forget.

Immediately in the first days, the Gestapo arrived in Susiec and stopped in front of my house. A wild shout was heard, that all Jewish men are to come out before them. However men there were in the house, hid themselves in the blink of an eye, wherever one could. The shouts became ever louder, insisting that the accursèd Jews should come out immediately. My wife and her sister went out and told them that the men

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were not home. Accordingly, they beat my wife and her sister severely, and told them to take off their shoes and run barefoot in the snow, which was frozen. The scars of the wounds remain with them to this day. On return, they were no longer there. For a couple of weeks, my wife and her sister lay scared in bed, exhausted, and barely able to reconstitute themselves. A short while later, my wife and I were summoned to Tomaszow, in the Gestapo [office] and told to pay up all the notes that I owed. I told them that I had nothing, because the entire shipment of wood had been confiscated. They released us. And this is how we began to live, in great fear, and with every arrival of Germans, we went and hid ourselves.

On March 7, 1941 we became aware that immediately, a transport with 600 people in four cars was to arrive with men, women and children, from Mielec. As the train was pulling in, approximately 100 sleds with peasants arrived to transfer all of these hapless Jews to Cieszanow. Not far from where we were hidden, we were able to precisely observe the offloading of the people, which took place in so frightful a manner, that it beyond the ability of human imagination to conceive. That gruesome picture stands before my eyes to this day. At the opening of a car, stood two S. S. murderers with rubber truncheons, and two Polish policemen (gendarmes). With the wild shouts of ‘Juden heraus!!!’ The pitiable people began to jump, and the murderers began to beat them. There was barking of the kill-trained dogs who also tore hunks of flesh from them. The panic and screaming from the people, and the wailing cry from the children tore the heart. Afterwards, the people were ordered onto the sleds. On ascending the sleds, every other person, or so, was shot. The dead bodies lolled about among the sleds. The last of these was a woman who was pulling a small carriage with a child. At a specific moment, the woman released the carriage from her hand, and wanting to grab hold of it and pull it back, she fell from a murderous bullet. When all of them had departed, the carriage with the baby remained behind. That night, with tears that were choked back, we buried the dead in one mass grave. There were thirteen people of which three were women. One continued to struggle through the night, and died in the morning. A Christian brought the child to me, and my wife bathed it, fed it, and gave it the name Bobosz. The child kept on crying, Mama Hav! Mama Hav! Six months later, a Jewish man came to us from Tomaszow, and presented himself as the brother of the woman who had been shot, and asked to take the child. In the ensuing time, we had become strongly attached to the child, and didn't want to let him go. However, having no choice, with tears in our eyes, we gave him back.

A short time thereafter, we were told that in two days time, we, the seventy Jews that were found in Susiec, were required to present ourselves at the assembly point in Tomaszow, and whoever had a work card would be set free. A great cry broke out in our home: what is to be done now? We decided to present ourselves and took comfort in the fact that we had work cards. Immediately, Baron Wattmann's daughter Muszynska arrived, with the director, to take over all the wood and the accounts, because we were required to present ourselves in Tomaszow. I gave everything to her. How wondrous is the fate of man. When I had turned everything over to the Baron's daughter, she called me into the house. Looking about to see that no one was listening, she told me not to dare present myself with my family in Tomaszow, because from a source from the servants, she knows that this is the final trip. Even though we have work cards, the order says that at the appointed time, no Jews may remain. So, listen to me, [she said], flee where your eyes look, and maybe you will survive and save yourselves. You are a great loss to me, she said, extending her hand, to wish me farewell, and left the house.

I stood unmoving like a stone, with heavy, dark and sorrowful thoughts crawling around in my mind, which clouded my reason. I looked with my eyes, but I saw nothing. My lips moved, but no sound came out. My hands trembled as if I were fevered. I was frightened, and must have looked like a madman. Wildly, I ran to my wife, and told her everything, after which my wife broke down and cried intensely. What shall we do, what shall we do, she mumbled, and wrung her hands. That evening, all of our Christian acquaintances came

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to take their leave of us. I took note of the fact that in Susiec, at that time, an underground was already functioning, and all those who came to me worked in the underground, all of them advised us not to present ourselves in Tomaszow, but rather that we should flee to the forest. To our question that we have no documents, one teacher took out her documents and gave them to my wife, who immediately assumed the name Grabowska Jozefa, from Lemberg. A Polish lieutenant said to us that we should leave that very night for the forest, because tomorrow might already be too late, and that the Gentiles should not be able to take note, and that we should be at an agreed location (near a felled tree) and wait for him during the following day, and he will bring documents for me and my brother-in-law. We sat until two o'clock, said farewell, and then left.

We immediately packed the most necessary items, and as still as thieves, slipped out with pounding hearts and with quite sobbing we went off to the forest to the designated location. It was still outside. Everything appeared to be sunken in slumber. Dark angry clouds covered the skies. The night was black, the earth was black, and our hearts were black, dark, dim and laden with terror. After three days of sitting in great fear in the forest, the lieutenant arrived, and gave the reason that he needed to wait until he had the two documents created, stamped with the appropriate stamps, and with our pictures. A spark of hope flew up in our hearts. He comforted us, and quietly sang ‘Jeszcze Polska nie zginela, poki my zyjemy’^[1] and he gently thumped his chest. He said his farewell with a full heart and went off. We anticipated these documents with happiness. My brother-in-law's new name was Jan Hurkala and I was Stanislaw Guntaz. We decided to travel to Warsaw. By using back roads, we approached a train station, and traveled to Warsaw. The way in which we came to Warsaw is a separate, tragic chapter, that demands a tremendous amount of nerve to pour it all out onto paper. We had to contest with gentiles that recognized us, and it was only through miracles and the expenditure of large sums of money that we were able to reach Warsaw.

We traveled to Mr. Wiszniewski and he became very frightened, but was very helpful in receiving us. He was very much afraid, and did not have a place to keep us. He introduced us to a neighbor of his, presenting us as Polish refugees from the Russian side. We lodged there for several nights. We then went to Herr Lianewski and he received us graciously, His wife, however, was a virulent anti-Semite, who at the first occasion of my entry, indicated that she did not tolerate any Jews, because in 1920 the Jews and Bolsheviks killed her father , who was a Starosta, and she can never forget this. However, since her husband, a grandson of a Polish admiral, has such a good opinion of us, she will provide succor to the extent that she is able, and without thinking a great deal, she approached a brother-in-law of hers, Jan Wojciech who was the director of the ‘Depot’ at the train station, that as unemployed, he must see to it that work is arranged for me. He promised to do this. On another day, he posed the question of how would he be able to offer me work, since he first needs an indication from a doctor that I am in good health, and as a Jew, how can I go to a doctor. But this Jan Wojciech was a man whom I would designate as one of the righteous Gentiles of the World, because not only sis he rescue me and my family, but also many Jews, thereby placing his own life at risk. And so, we remained at Herr Lianewski's. Two days later, Jan Wojciech arrived and said to me that I should give him my document, and I gave it to him. Two hours later, he returned with the document and an official bill of clean health. He had taken a gentile, and went with him to a doctor, with my document. And on the morrow, he told me to report for work.

On the following day, I was already dressed in the uniform of a railroad worker and always went about confidently. Herr Lianewski arranged for us to have quarters, in the Warsaw flode (???) and paid 500 zlotys a month, while I was earning [only] 180 zlotys a month. Understand that we still had some money left. We

[Page 401]

strove to live as well as we could with the neighbors. One day, my brother-in-law's son went into the house of a neighbor, and saw a Christian book of prayers (catechism), and asked the little girl, Zoza, what is that? – The parents overheard this, and began to wonder how it was that a boy of nine does not know this already? It can be no other reason other than these are Jews. Immediately this began to be whispered about, and the master of the house immediately became aware, who immediately came in extremely agitated, and calls me into a separate room. He said to me that ‘I have heard that you are Jews, and so I beseech you to flee from here, the faster the better. I do not want to know to where you go, because I do not want to fall on misfortune because of you.’ Understandably, we lied, and he left angry, saying thereby, ‘we shall see.’ My hands and feet began to tremble, and I immediately went off to Warsaw to Herr Wiszniewski, telling him everything, and asking him, what is to be done? The constant smile that was on his face, made an impression on me. He asked me to wait, and he left the house. A couple of hours later, he came and told me that on this very day, we are to move into our new quarters, which he located for us in the Praga at Brzeska Number 13. We quietly removed ourselves from there, and came to our new location.

Here, it was something different already. The surrounding people were simply underworld types, prostitutes, the darker elements [of society], drunks, etc. We had to blend into the new circumstances. My wife and I went about constantly ‘drunk’ despite the fact that we never drank. Well, we developed a vocabulary exactly like the society around us, and it was in this fashion that we had to play the role like skilled artists, constantly remembering who we [really] were, and never forgetting to talk and gesture with our hands, and never to forget that at every word to say ‘Jezsu Kochany.^[2]’

As I previously said, Jan Wojciech had arranged employment for me. My job consisted of loading and unloading coal. For each wagon of coal, six men were required. Every day, 130 Jews were brought from the ghetto to this work, and at night they were taken back. Four Jews and two Poles worked at each wagon. I made the acquaintance of all the Jews who had a premonition of what awaited them. The Jews would also bring along a variety of items to barter for produce, but it was, pitiably, very difficult for the Jews to take it [sic: the produce] out, because the Germans would confiscate it at the gate. Within the realm of my capacity to do so, I helped these Jews with whatever I could, and because of this, they took me for a decent ‘Polack.’ When I had to give them 5 kg of kasha, I gave them an actual 5 kg, and not like other Poles who would give them three instead of five. I would also attempt to get along as well as I could with my foremen. I would give away the ‘treasures’ that the hapless Jews would bring with them. On many occasions, I would simply return these items to the Jews, so they would have it available for barter a second time. I was also one of the best workers, for which, every month, I would receive a premium of a quarter of a liter of whiskey, and a hundred cigarettes. I would always give this away to my foreman, a certain Skywa, a great Jew-hater, who would oppress the Jews for no reason. And when I gave him the whiskey and cigarettes, I would ask him not to bother the Jews, because they were good workers. At this, he would smile heartily, and said that Poles, after all, were not any kind of Jews.

In the interim, the Jews would tell me of the great calamity that was befalling the Jews in the ghetto on a daily basis, how every day, innocent victims were falling. It cut me to the heart to listen to all the gruesome things that were told to me. I also heard about things that literally stunned me, and was awed by them, to my great astonishment. How did those in the ghetto find the strength to live under the shadow of such a gruesome death. Not only live, but retain their spark of divinity, create institutions, open schools, provide mutual assistance to one another? Where did each and every ordinary Jew, that worked along side of me, find the strength, who would bring food into the ghetto at great danger to his own life, and care that it should reach

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those who were in need, that did not have anything with which to buy? Where did the teacher, who came from faraway to the ghetto, find the strength, while starving, and without means, gather together the naked Jewish children, among which were children who had lost their parents, teach them, wash them, sew for them, write study books for them? How is it that parts of the Jewish young people, under the unheard of, and unsightly Ghetto conditions, found the strength in themselves, and the energy to think about resistance? And the greatest heroism of all, was to live each day in the ghetto and retain one's humanity. I was stunned, and cannot understand to this day.

Among those with whom I was acquainted, was also a Jew who before had been a very wealthy man, and very intelligent. He would ask me to come to the ghetto every day, before dawn, and he will call out, ‘Guntaz!’ to which I was to reply ‘Jestem!’ I was to stretch out my hands, and he would throw over a variety of articles , and he would settle up with me at work, because I was the only one that he trusted, because to him I was a very honest ‘Christian.’ I declined to do this, because I was simply afraid to put myself at risk. However, he implored me very strongly, and begged me with tears in his eyes, and told me that it was not only for himself that he needed the produce, but also for children, and not only his own children. I could not stand this test, and with a heavy heart I complied with his request. I don't know why, but this Jewish man elicited an intense compassion from me, and I began to come before dawn and this Jew would throw down a variety of merchandise to me, from which I would always give him whatever he requested. Many times, when I would take more from my Christian acquaintances, I gave it all away to this Jew. Not once, he would discreetly say to me that I had a Jewish heart, and not once, would he notice how I would be wiping away tears from my eyes. One time, I approached the Ghetto, and the Jew called out, ‘Guntaz!’ and I answered ‘Jestem!.’ I spread my hands out over the wall to catch the merchandise. How astonished I became, and practically fainted, when I saw that I had caught a small child, and before I had even oriented myself as to what to do, two women stood by me with a baby carriage, and said to me forcefully, Panie Guntaz dziekuje bardzo,^[3] and took the child, placing it in the carriage, and casually walked away. I went off to work frightened out of my mind. At work, I asked the Jew about the child, how my life was endangered, and he lowered his head like someone who had sinned, and said that he knew nothing. I did not speak of the matter again, however, I no longer approached the Ghetto.

After a period of time, the Jew again approached me, asking that I come to the Ghetto. This time, he wept bitterly, indicating that they are at the point of expiring. I said that tomorrow, I would come with my wife. Before dawn, I came to the Ghetto with my wife. About 100 meters from the Ghetto, I remained standing, and told my wife that I will be right there. My wife approached the spot that we had agreed on, and upon hearing the shout, ‘Guntaz!’ she answered ‘Jestem!’ At that precise moment, the gendarmerie took note of this, and began to shoot. I pulled back and remained standing, frightened, fearing for the fate of my wife. My wife did not lose her composure, and in the wink of an eye, vanished into a guardhouse that was near the Ghetto. The guard, taking her for a Christian woman, told her to lie down in the bed, and she lay like this until nine o'clock. She got up and went out, and a Christian was standing at the gate, who said to her that he was afraid to go out, because the gendarmerie is inspecting everyone. However, it was equally no good to remain there, so he took her under the arm and went out. No sooner had they come out, when the Germans gave a shout, ‘Kom! Kom!’ They approached. They found a package containing one thousand zlotys on the person of the Christian, indicating that he was trading with the Jews, so he was shot on the spot. They found nothing on the person of my wife. She produced her document, as the wife of a railroad employee. So how is it that you are in this location, she was asked. She said that she had spent the night with this Christian,

[Page 403]

because he was a member of her family. The guard stood at a distance, nodding his head that she was telling the truth. She was told to leave, and she sauntered off casually.

On a certain day, I had engaged the previously mentioned Jew in a conversation, and he told me of the gruesome scenes that took place in the Ghetto. I could not retrain myself, and blurted out, Master of the Universe, my unfortunate Jewish brethren! What? He gave a shout. Yes, I told him, I am a Jew. Stunned and awed, he looked at me, tears stood in his eyes, and he said nothing to me, but muttered quietly, I knew it, I felt it.

A few days later, my foreman Skywa called me aside, looking at me with murder in his eye, and said, you, Guntaz are a Jew! Who would have thought this of you! Such a swindler! Such Jewish secrecy! Huh? I say: Why do you try and perpetrate such a charge against me? Shut up! He shouted at me in a subdued manner. One of my people eavesdropped on the confession you made to the Jew from the Ghetto! I now know everything, you filthy swindling Jew. It is not for naught that the Führer is killing you, you are swindlers and liars. I no longer heard what it was that he was saying, I began to feel dizzy. My hands and feet began to tremble, and my face told him everything [he wanted to know]. The first thing I did was give him the ticket that I had, so that he could claim my whiskey and cigarettes. He took the ticket. On the second day, he reminded me that I was a Jew, so I saw that it was bad. Accordingly, I ran over to Jan Wojciech and told him the entire story. He became very angry with me, mut still started to think about what to do. After calming down, he said to me that tomorrow, after work, that I should go to the doctor, where there will be a note waiting for me that releases me from work, because it is too difficult for me, and that I will be re-assigned to a lighter work, meaning, not under the supervision of this very Skywa. And indeed, I began a lighter work of cleaning and sweeping etc., in a completely different place. I never saw this Skywa again. I never saw the Jew [sic: from the Ghetto] again.

On a certain day, as I was returning from work, a healthy, tall gentile tough stopped me and said: Listen, Guntaz! That you are a charlatan I know, so how much longer do you expect to be able to go around masquerading as a Christian. I am well aware of the fact that you and your wife are Jews. I shouted at him: Come to the gendarmerie. So he said: Come. Let us go, and with me every limb was already quaking. – So what so you want? I ask him. He says to me: three thousand zlotys. I haggled with him, and settled for two thousand zlotys. I paid him (P.S. He became aware of this being once at the home of Wiszniewski, to whom he was related).

Several days later, on a Friday, two policemen came in and ordered that our documents be shown for review. So I showed them. So they say, they want to see the real ones, and they also want to grab the Jewish fish that are being cooked nowadays. Two gentile hooligans were already waiting outside, that the extortionist, understandably, had sent over. So I asked, how much is this going to cost. – Ten thousand zlotys, came the reply. I haggled with them, and settled for five thousand. The policemen said to me: You need to run away from here as fast as you can, because tomorrow they will send others. My wife cried sympathetically: What do we do? Where do we go?

Immediately on the other day, two other gentile hooligans came, and also demanded money, if not, they will call the Gestapo. I told them that I had no more money, and so they stood to take away a new machine. They brought a porter, and the porter took the machine away. In about an hour, the porter returned, and says to me, seeing that he is aware that we are Jews, and God forbid, does not wish to inform on us, but he also needs

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to live, that I should give him something as well. He himself, is a member of the P.P.R.^[4] and with the help of Jesus, everything will yet turn out alright. When I answered that I had nothing, he indicated that the fluffy blanket was also good [to give] because he can get 500 zlotys for it. I gave him the blanket.

The gentile hooligans in the courtyard took note of the fact that each time a different person comes along, and carries away a machine. Here, the police arrive, and they began to harbor suspicions. So they seized my younger son, and on the steps, tore off his trousers, and with one wild shout that all began to shout ‘Zydy! Zydy!’ My children all fled, to where, I did not know, whether to my sister and brother-in-law, or somewhere else. I stood standing, not knowing what was happening to me. I felt like my blood was freezing in my arteries. What was left for me to do now? Immediately I heard the shout of ‘Zydowka! Zydowka!’ The door opens, and a girl comes in and asks me if my name is Guntaz. I answered in the affirmative, so she hands me a letter in which it is written to me that I need to take care of this girl because she works in the underground. However, she saw in what kind of situation I was in, and she went away.

Immediately, a Christian who was a good acquaintance of mine entered, who had taken me for a Christian the entire time, and now first became aware from the gentile hooligans in the courtyard that I was a Jew. He only exchanged a few words with me, and then went away. We went to his home to take counsel together. He was very disappointed that we had not told him that we were Jewish, because he would have provided better protection for us, but now he can't do anything for us. In the meantime, we took note of the two policemen who made threatening gestures towards us with their fingers. No matter what, the ground under our feet was now burning.

We went to the first extortionist so that he could take us to the Gestapo. He, personally, was too frightened to so this, because if he knew that we were Jews, why had he not informed the Germans earlier, and just took money. In any event the entire matter was now unpalatable to him. Again, we wept intensely, because he was the first one to bring this misfortune upon us. We did not have a groschen to our name. He took out 200 zlotys, and said he could lend us this. We didn't want to do this, but it was either the Gestapo, or as we were told. He set us up in the [town of] Wawer near Warsaw and became our best friend. As we later learned, it was the Wiszniewskis who influenced him to behave this way. We visited once again. However, my brother-in-law, Shmuel Poder had left, and was in the Susiec Forest. It was in this way that we struggled, and fought for the little bit of life that we had, until the liberation.

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