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[Page 405]

During the Years of Horror

By Rachel Schwartzbaum (Klarman)

Taken down by Yaakov Schwartz

 

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Rachel Schwartzbaum-Klarman

 

I know, and I am almost certain, that after reading my memoir, a memoir that I am not in any physical condition to record even one tenth of what I wish to relate, the reader will have the reverberation of the wheels ringing in his ears, and will, for a long time, be unable to free himself from the atmosphere of the transports and the wild shouting…. when the territory of Poland was flooded with rivers of Jewish blood, when the red-black clouds of smoke from the continuously burning crematoria covered the heavens. For were there even heavens at that time, for very nature itself was frighteningly cruel to us, the hapless. A fountain of tears continues to asphyxiate me to this day, reminding me that always, on the eve of an aktion, a strong wind would blow, just as if a hundred witches had risen at once. On an angry night such as this, the sullen wind would blow up heaps of refuse near the filthy barracks. On such a night the crows would crow in a frightening manner, and this only served to intensify the fear – the fear of imminent death. Between the dark angry clouds that passed overhead, a small, pale moon would show itself, always showing us a contorted face, and it appeared to us that just, just then, the entire world is about to go under, and even before the morning star would appear, everything will already be too late. We all will be driven off, robbed, abused, and slaughtered…. Many years have already passed since those nightmarish bloody days, and yet those horrible scenes remain fresh and vivid in memory, the memory of a Hell that was played out on the earth, in the very heart of Europe in the midst of a rich culture and a civilization of centuries. No! I will never recover from those bloody wounds. My sorrow over the slaughtered, powerless sisters and brothers, small children and friends, among whom are my closest – my dear parents who died in Sanctification of the Name is such a tragic way. Let my memoir be like a sacred memorial for the martyrs who were brought down by means of terrifying torture, buried in a variety of common graves, in countless mass graves that are sown all over, and plowed into the fields of the Jewish European Diaspora. ת.נ.צ.ב.ה.

 

My First Fright on the Way from Warsaw to Tomaszow

Close to the outbreak of the bloody war, I found myself in Warsaw where I worked in tailoring, which truthfully, my father, Meir Klarman and my mother were strongly opposed to having me travel to Warsaw. It was as if they had a premonition of what a great calamity awaits the world in general, and the Jewish people in particular. I was, however, strongly attracted by the big city. The little shtetl of Tomaszow, which in prior years had been a budding sprout both in terms of work availability and commerce, suddenly went to sleep. Anti-Semitism against the Jewish populace began to bare its sharp talons. Christian manufacturing establishments opened, such as ‘Samofamac’ and others like it, which literally tore the meager sustenance out of the hands of poor Jewish merchants who sat in front of the establishments for days on end, reading a newspaper. The shtetl took on a somber mood. Workers began to go about with their heads lowered. The craftsman liquidated his workstation. And unemployment grew from day to day. And many of the workers traveled off to the big cities and it was then that I was swept along. I challenged my parents by telling them that only in Warsaw will I be able to work myself up, and with a heavy heart, my parents consented, and I went off to Warsaw. And as I have already mentioned, I worked in tailoring, in a very large firm, in which I learned something every day, and improved my skill every day. But, at that time, I did not know that man's

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fate, which is so intensely fragile, would direct that I should master this skill in order that in the coming bloody days of the devastating war, it will help me, and perhaps save my poor, darkened life, that I lived through at that time. A short time later, the war broke out, and immediately everything was battened down and locked up, no train, no bus [to be had] and my thoughts began to roil and knead about like thick clouds. How, and in what way, can I get to Tomaszow and my family. I cried and wailed ceaselessly, fearing to be all alone, to remain in the maelstrom that had been created. By luck, I made the acquaintance of a group of people who simply decided to set off on foot, one to Lublin, one to Zamoś. I joined with this group. On the way, the first fright befell me. The bombardment was frightful, shooting [was going on] on all sides. Wherever my eyes looked, I saw conflagration. Jewish families with tiny children were going back and forth on wagons, that were supplied by peasants, piled with [their] bedding. I literally felt that my young heart was going to stop out of sheer fear. And so, in this way, we dragged ourselves for an entire four weeks, not spending the night in the same place we spent the day. Exhausted, broken, half dead, and fainting, I arrived at Tomaszow.

 

My Arrival in Tomaszow

As soon as I entered our home, a darkness fell over my eyes. I did not recognize my parents at all, for it appeared that they had suddenly grown old. To my question, ‘what is going on here?’ my mother ע”ה burst out crying, and remained stubbornly silent. However, there are silences that cry out more loudly that all shouts and all manner of speech. Pitiably, she did not want to, at that time, disclose the litany of tribulations, and the implementation of the horrible crimes that had already been perpetrated in so short a time against the Jewish populace in Tomaszow. Her silence at that time thundered at me, literally hurling bolts of lightning in my face. Feeling depressed and beaten, I fell asleep.

That following morning, I was able to see the great disaster for myself: several Gestapo murderers were leading a group of seized Jews to forced labor. Like feral tigers they spastically thundered: ‘You vermin-infested filthy Jews,’ while beating them over the head with rubber truncheons. An intense fear befell me, which deadened every hope and belief in me. The fear spread about me like a black shadow, what was there to do? How does one save one's self? My father ע”ה paid a Christian of his acquaintance a specific sum of money to smuggle me illegally over the border to Rawa Ruska, and I donned peasant's clothing and with a heavy, broken heart, said my farewells to my dearest. My father ע”ה quietly shouted after me, I hope, Rachel'eh that you will live and survive this devastating time of crime and collective guilt. I arrived uneventfully in Rawa [Ruska] to the Soviets, and I was able to breathe more freely there.

 

My Lonely Existence in Rawa Ruska Until the Outbreak of the German-Russian War in June 1941

I arrived in Rawa [Ruska] late, but the streets were still full of strollers, with many Jews, and indeed, Jews from Tomaszow. And every one of them tells of how bitter and bad it is for them, how they wander about among the houses of study, in the synagogues, how a part of them no longer have anything from which to live, and how they are denied admission to anywhere. And despite all of the headaches and various ills that these refugees brought with them, a part of them were planning to illegally cross the border back to Tomaszow, because they are unable to survive. Another part were planning to travel further into Russia, for which the Russian government, from time to time, forms echelons, and whoever wants to is able to travel. When I told them, in summary, in what kind of a Hell the Tomaszow Jews found themselves, how the Angel of Death had spread his black wings and spares no one, young and old, how the German murderers mete out

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death at every turn, all were struck dumb and open-mouthed. However, not everyone believed me, and on the spot I was told that I exaggerate, and many, yes indeed many, from Tomaszow did return to Tomaszow, and pitiably, later on paid for this, very, very, dearly.

My grandfather ע”ה, R' Chaim Fershtman, with his family, who had been in Rawa [Ruska] for some time already, was very happy to see me. He also told me how bad and bitter it was here, and how they had decided to travel on to Russia.

After several days, I found work in tailoring. I did not earn a great deal, and was barely able to support myself. However, I would have been willing to tolerate it all, except for imagining what sort of terrifying circumstances had befallen my family in their plight. I stayed up entire nights crying over all of our collective fate.

On a specific day, my grandfather ע”ה, and his family, with a full heart, took their leave from me, and traveled off to Russia. It truth, he very much wanted me to come along with them. I categorically refused, because I believed that we were on the very verge of seeing the end to all these troubles, and I had better be near my family, who were not far from where I was. And so, my solitary life proceeded in this way, with unhappy days, and sleepless nights until – until June 1941, when the bloody German-Russian war broke out abruptly.

 

My Return to Tomaszow and My Frightening Experiences

The sun set in a fiery sea, and in an ignited, brilliant explosion of flame, slid down beneath the horizon, and vanished, while leaving behind a blood red sky for a very long time. The streets are full of people, running hither and yon, wringing their hands. They cry and wail, a war has broken out in whose anticipated we trembled mightily. And here, we are talking, and here they are bombing us, and there are already dead who were killed. And here, shooting is coming from all sides, and before anyone realized it, one already could hear the wild voices of the German murderers and I returned to a state of anxiety, back to the fire. I, and several other Tomaszow families set out to return to Tomaszow. Arriving to my parents, they fell upon me, and wept sympathetically. A wellspring of sorrow gazed out on me from my mother's ע”ה eyes. She looked at me with a mixed gaze, and did not even make the effort to wipe away the tears. Her sorrow was genuine and deep, to the extent that it choked up my own heart.

Immediately on the morrow, my parents receive a notice that because their daughter had returned from Russia, my parents are required to pay a large sum of money on my behalf as indemnification money. A keening went up in our house, regarding how it would be possible to get such a large sum of money, however there was no answer to this. In the morning, at eight o'clock, the sum must be presented. My mother ע”ה took a gold chain that we still had in our possession, and went off to sell it to the Polish priest. She told the priest everything, and the priest took the chain, paid her, and told her, ‘Go save your child.’ My mother thanked him with a full heart, and went away. On the following morning, she paid the sum on my behalf. In this manner, all of the families that returned from Rawa [Ruska] were required to pay extraordinarily large sums as an indemnification. It is superfluous to say that the German murder machine turned over flawlessly in all of its detailed operation, such that, no matter where a Jew came from, the Gestapo knew of it immediately. Do understand that there was no lack of informers, snitches of all kinds, since thousands of eyes lay in ambush for each and every Jew.

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In a short while, a German enters, and says he is knows that I am a seamstress, and would I be able to sew a variety of items for his family? Yes, I answered, and seized upon this like some extraordinary find. I began to work for his family, and he sent other Germans, and I thanked God that all of them were satisfied with my work. I even received a sonder-ausweis that is, a work card.

 

I am Slandered as a Communist

One morning, the Gestapo official Prokop comes in, and conveys that he Has an order for me to go with him, and that I am arrested because I am a communist. He gives me five minutes, and I can take along whatever I want to. My parents began to weep intensely, and asking for mercy, and he stood by in cold blood, while whistling a tune. He said that first, he would take me to the senior S.S. officer, Zeidel. Hearing that name cause a tremor to pass through mt heart. The senior S.S. officer Zeidel was of medium height, broad-backed, and his face could change at any instant. One moment he was in a fury with bulging eyes like a despot, and a minute later he would wear a sadistic smile when one would give into him and be servile. The slightest violation against his orders did not go unpunished. For the slightest tardiness in getting something done, he would shoot someone, holding a revolver in one hand, and an apple in the other hand, which he ate at the same time. Who can imagine what was going on in my heart at that time? When I was taken into the presence of the murderer Zeidel, as soon as I saw his thieving eyes, my tongue was tied out of terror. I stood bowed and contorted, as if the weight of the entire Jewish exile had suddenly been placed like a heavy mass on my young back.

He screamed: You contemptible communist, that you are! Turn to the wall! Put your hands up high! And he began to brandish his revolver. When I saw death staring me in the eyes, I regained my composure, burst out crying, and fell to his feet and with a heart-rending voice told him that I was still a child, and do not even know what this is in the first place. At that same moment he left, and I do not know if he was called. However, leaving the door slightly ajar, I saw how one person was giving him a couple of bottles of whiskey, and said something to him. He returned soon, and shouted in an even louder voice: ‘Get out of here, you despicable communist!’ Like a shaking leaf, I barely crawled out, and entering my home, I then first fainted, not seeing the great joy of my parents that I had been saved, and returned from the Other World.

In this manner, things got worse from day to day. Every day and every night was a battle to live through the day. People began to tear themselves away to go to work, because those who had work cards had a right to live. Later on, people stopped returning from the frightfully heavy labor. The first victims were the Schwindler family with four sons. After work, they were ordered to dig graves for themselves, and they were shot. The Judenrat was told to bury them. Immediately, R' Nahum Zucker v”g carried them on his own back to the cemetery. We observed the great calamity. What can one do? Shimon Goldstein, Benjamin Bluzer, Gershon Gartler, Masha Rothenberg, etc., would stealthily enter the cellar, as quietly as possible, where my parents lay hidden, and on once occasion had actually decided to make bunkers for ourselves in the forest. However, nothing came of it, because the risk was too great.

 

The Aktion in Tomaszow

The first Aktion took place in March 1942. In accordance with an order, men and women, during the day, were required to present themselves on the square. Three shots were fired to initiate the Aktion. Immediately the savage shouts of the gruppenführers and order givers could be heard. They stood at full battle readiness, arrayed here and there in groups, strategically deployed, just like maneuvers for an attack upon an enemy. Do not think that it is a small matter that the Jews of Tomaszow, with their wives and children, are a threat

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to the Third Reich, and are the ones who are principally guilty for the World War. All the combatants had previously been issued rations of alcoholic beverages. They would get this before each slaughter because it helped them get better results and the ‘work’ itself proceeds more quickly, with greater vigor, and more savagely. We saw the great misfortune unfold before our eyes. The tumult and confusion became great, People ran about frightened and lost: where can one hide, to where can one run? Not all Jews had bunkers or cellars, so one ran to neighbors, to shared places of concealment. And here, it is already late, because the Germans are combing the streets. A small number of rich Jews from other places were able to buy themselves out for a large sum of money, in whose place they began to look for the poorer ones. The murderers ran about on all sides with drawn guns. They took up strategic positions at all the walls. Immediately we could hear the report of continuous shooting, the savage yelling of the bandits, the weeping of children, the moaning of the wounded. Here and there, a Jew would run by, and a murderous bullet would bring him down.

I lay in an attic, stuck back in a corner, and through a small crack, I looked out. And suddenly, my eyes beheld how they were already now leading my dear parents with their hand held up. A choked cry tore itself from the depths of my bloodied heart. I tore the hair out of my head, and sympathetically wept: now I am surely alone, as alone as a stone. It was in this manner that each time, someone else was taken to the gathering point. Part of them were not taken but shot. And all were taken off to Cieszanow, and form Cieszanow to Belzec. One of my little brothers, age 12, had stolen away, and then returned. My joy was indescribable. When I saw him, I arranged for his safekeeping with a gentile, for money of course.

After the Aktion, it was not possible to return to one's own place. Part of the Jews who were hidden did come back, and those that had work cards for the time being, had the right to live, and I was among them. I was yet to receive a short letter from my mother ע”ה, where she writes that she beseeches God that a memory should remain behind, that I should remain alive. But woe it was to such a way to remain alive. The day-in and day-out terror and fear, the hunger that sucked the last bit of marrow out of the bones. But the measure of tribulation was yet far, far from being full.

 

The Aktion in Belzec

The second Aktion took place on the second day of Shavuot of that same year. With an even greater impetus, the murderers ran about like wild animals, searching, ferreting out in holes, cellars and attics, dragging people to the gathering place. Whoever was unable to go, was shot immediately. The same scenes were repeated, that took place at the time of the first Aktion. The same wild shouts, the beating over the head, the trampling of tiny babies underfoot. The screaming and crying literally rent the heart. At that time, I was hidden in a camouflaged cellar.

As I was later told, one Jew had ‘the good fortune’ when he ascended the wagon, simply expired. His dead body lay there, wedged in the crush among the living. When all of the victims had been loaded, one person asked the Germans what was to be done with those who were shot, and laying sprawled about? – Put them up among the living – was the answer. Apfahren!! – The obersturmführer cried out. Accompanied by heart rending cries and wailing, the wagons began to move from their spot. All the unfortunate victims were taken to Belzec to be exterminated.

 

Judenrein

On the following morning, after the second Aktion, Tomaszow looked like a cemetery. The houses wrecked, and plundered. Only a small number of Jews saved themselves who were well hidden, remaining orphans,

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widows, and solitary broken souls. For the time being, the murderers continued to tolerate the Judenrat, except for Yehoshua'leh Fishelsohn ע”ה who a while back had committed suicide. Some said that the murderers had shot him , along with his wife and child, because he did not want to provide any Jews, and in his place, Abba Bergenbaum הי”ד became the President. And so, it was in this fashion that we, those very few that remained, began anew to exert ourselves, in hiding already, becoming swollen with hunger, and continuous terror in the face of impending death.

After a short while, late at night, there was knocking at my hiding place. I became very frightened, when he called out my name and said: flee as fast as you can, because tomorrow, in accordance with an order, Tomaszow must become Judenrein, including the Judenrat among them. Since the Germans know about all the hiding places where the few Jews are still hiding, flee! I then also flee. This was a Jew who worked for the Germans employed in the labor office. I then advised everyone that I knew, but I was not believed. One Jew put his life on the line, and went back to have a look at his house. The doors and windows were already torn off, and everything had been plundered. On Friday, I fled to Tarnowska. On my way, I already hear the sound of shots. Tomaszow became Judenrein.

 

My Experiences in Tarnowska

Arriving in Tarnowska, I saw many people from Tomaszow who worked hard, and in bitterness, at a variety of jobs, without pay, but only for a bit of food. Do understand that all of these Jews had work cards. There were Christian people who also worked at a variety of jobs, but their working conditions and circumstances, were entirely different. They had no fear, and were also able to eat fully. I presented myself to the director of the S.A. Kina, with my work card, as a seamstress. He was agreeable, and I began doing tailoring for the Christian workers, without pay. I received food from those for whom I did work. I had sufficiently enough to eat, to be able to give some away [to others]. Relatively speaking, it was quiet. The director would continuously comfort us by telling us that nothing bad would happen. He constantly assured us that we were considered to be needed workers, and indeed, he would travel frequently to Lublin to work out ways to extend the time we had to live.

On one night, my little brother Shmuel, who was hidden with a gentile woman, came running to me blackened, barefoot and naked, saying that the gentile woman had thrown him out. A darkness fell on my eyes. I was advised not to declare his presence, because they would kill him. I began hiding him, each time in a different place.

On one occasion, the director told me that on the following day he was going to take me to Tomaszow, to sew for his family which was living in the house of Ruzha Bergenbaum. I really didn't want to do this, but you can understand that I was in no position to refuse, and therefore, went off with him the next day. I sat there and sewed. His wife was very satisfied, and was very good to me. Her mild blue eyes were not like those you would see in other people, when they saw a Jew. Her warm gazes would serve to calm me, but I could not sit still, thinking over and over about my little brother who lay hidden [back] there. I asked the director to take me back to Tarnowska, at least for a day, but he categorically refused: Why specifically today? He asked me ironically. I then begged his wife, and literally cried before her. She summoned one of her workers, and he took me back to Tarnowska in a small wagon, and he said to me that in a day or two, she would send for me.

My little brother was extremely happy to see me, so that tears washed over his face. I gave him food to eat, that the director's wife had given me to take along, and with a pounding heart and a bad premonition, I went

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to sleep. Before dawn, I hear a wild tumult, and I immediately hear that well-known shouting of the Nazi bandits. I look outside, and all of the Jews stand ringed around by the S. S. murderers, and before I can even think of what to do, trembling with fear. They are already knocking at the door: Heraus, verfluchte schweinen![1] I went out. The murderers are running wildly around, shooting from all sides at fleeing Jews. Here, Wladek Ettenberg run by me (Yaakov'leh the doctor's grandson), and says something to me, and here, a moment later, he lies dead of a murderous bullet. I quickly went over to all those who had been rounded up, who stood surrounded by the murderers, with their drawn weapons. My glances wandered quickly here and there, but I did not see my little brother. One of the murderers stood with a list in hand, and called out the names. One portion [of the people] were told to go to one side, and another portion to a second side. Rachel'eh Putter threw herself at the feet of the S. S. man, begging for mercy, and showered him with several pieces of gold, but it was to no avail. He took the few pieces of gold, and stood her with her mother to one side, among those to be exterminated. Her three brothers were not on the list, and for the time being, they were left alone. When the S. S. man finished calling out the names, he announced that the seamstress that works for the director in Tomaszow, will be shot tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock. A shudder went through me, as I saw them already leading one group whom they kept on beating. They are thrown upon small wagons prepared for this occasion, and the weeping and crying literally tore the heart. An overweight German, with great pleasure, hoarsely screamed in a sadistic manner: Nach Belzec abfahren! And several wagons packed, approximately 70 Jews, began to move in the direction of Belzec. In the case of many families, the children were taken, and the parents left behind, and vice versa.

They began to drive the second group, but in an opposite direction, towards Zamość. The second group also consisted of a like number of people. I stood confused, not know what I had to do, how does one now flee from death, and where does one find a rescue to be able to continue living. At that moment, I earned a blow to the head, and I fell down. The same murderer picked me up and carried me with one hand, and threw me onto the people who already sat on the wagon. Blood ran from my head, but I did not feel any pain, because I did not know what was happening to me. I first came around in Zamość, were we were driven to a gathering place, where many Jews from many places already lay with their faces down.

We were held there for an entire day without food, and we unfortunates were then driven onto freight trucks and we drove off. Nobody know where to.

 

In Majdanek

For anyone who has not gone through this personally, it is very difficult to grasp how it is possible for a human being to withstand such frightful torture. Regrettably, my pen is too feeble for me to be able to retell everything accurately, so that it can be understood, and even believed.

While riding in a freight truck, we suddenly perceived our great misfortune. We are being taken on those dark roads that lead to Majdanek, on those roads that are saturated with Jewish blood, on the ground that has been fertilized with the ash of incinerated Jewish lives. The closer we got, the stronger the odor of the gas chambers of the death camp became. All of us began to weep in a whimpering fashion. We saw that our fate was explicitly sealed. I was seized with a sense of quandary based on hopelessness, a terrifying apathy, a plight that had no exit. Unwillingly, I would constantly fondle the vial of poison that I had provided for myself, while still in Tomaszow, from the employee who worked at Frank's pharmacy. I simply did not want

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to die at the hands of these murderers. As soon as we arrived, we were taken directly to the gas chambers, and were beaten with murderous blows. Just from the beating alone, many fell dead on all sides. Nearing the gas chambers, we were told to strip naked, and in getting undressed, I lost my vial of poison. We had already gone into the gas chamber, and just as one [of the attendants] was ready to close the hermetically sealed doors, at the very last possible moment, an order arrived for us to dress ourselves quickly. We ran out wildly, and naked, and whatever garment came to hand, one put on. We were driven into a broken down barracks and were informed that we were going to get something to eat, and we received a bit of watery soup.

And so, this is how our dark lives began in the terrifying death camp Majdanek, hunger, fear of death, every couple of days a selektion, right-left. My eyes looked upon frightened people from Tomaszow, who were sent to the left, which meant to death. And each time I was present, and saw how the Angel of Death smilingly indicated with his baton, whether to live or die. I felt as if my heart would stop, and to this day, I cannot forget these gruesome images. And it was in this way that the span of death passed over me every minute, and in this way the murderers tortured us with the fear of death, as life went on in exhausting one's self, in waiting in a situation that was neither death nor life. The apathy and resignation had reached a stage, where the will to live had died within me – let whatever will be, happen already, I can no longer stand it – my bloodied heart cried out to me.

On a certain day, we were again dragged to a selektion. This time, I saw many women, young girls with pale frightened faces and according to what I remember, there must have been several thousand. How frightened we became, when a Gestapo doctor arrived, about whom we had heard of the type of frightening experiments that he carries out with his victims. Out of terror, I closed my eyes, not to look at his sadistic countenance. He selected 700 girls and women, to the right, and I was among the 700. And the rest of the scheisse[2], as he calls them, goes to be exterminated.

He gave a speech to we, the 700 girls and women: You, all of whom I have selected – he called out with a contrived indifference – should remain calm. It is fated that you are to have your own bed, your own house, where you will begin to live like human beings. You are to travel off to do labor with peasants. You should be attentive to do everything that you are ordered to do. Auf Wiedersehen – he waved with his hand.

We were immediately led to freight trucks. Upon entering the wagons, we saw there were girls and women there from before, We did not know when they had been driven here. To our question of where they were going, they answered: to peasants for field work. The crowding became continuously worse, and no more people would come in. [Despite this] the murderers pushed more and more in, and when it was to the point where one could actually no longer breathe, they nailed the doors shut. On each of the steps, a German murderer stood with an automatic weapon. On the roofs, lay the murderers bearing arms. At every turn, someone becomes indisposed, someone passes out, and everyone comforts themselves blindly, that we are traveling to work with peasants.

 

In Auschwitz

In transit, I didn't feel that I could last. We were so tightly crammed into the wagon, there was coughing, and there was choking from the chlorine disinfectant that had been shaken out. The odor of human excrement chokes in the throat, and there are quiet groans heard, from dying people. One becomes angry at another as

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if the other were responsible for the crowding that broke bones, and kept one from breathing. We were pressed one against the other, bathed in a clammy sweat of death. One woman screams and continuously curses the entire world. Shouts for water come from all sides, just a bit of water to moisten dried lips. The reverberation of heavy gunfire penetrate the roiling ears. I look about, and see that all the faces are so pale, probably mine as well. And, lo, we now see the new great disaster to which we are being taken. From a distance, we can now see the electrified wire of the Auschwitz camp. How terrifying and frightening it is to be with the knowledge that death is inevitable and is approaching.

Slowly, slowly, the train begins to lose speed. It says that Auschwitz is drawing near. The train remains standing, and a frightening anxiety seizes everyone. Breathing stops, and murderous hands rip open the sealed doors, accompanied by wild bestial shouts to debark. [The scene] swims before my eyes, and I am barely able to stand on my feet. With all my strength, I tear myself out of the pressed mass of humanity, where many who were previously standing, in the congestion now fall stiffly to the ground. The S. S. murderers and their assistants hit the half dead women over the head with their staves. Faces become bloodies, Jewish blood spurts from all sides. Wild shouts are heard: Ausstellen zich in reien!

A cohort of the entire mass of people, sick and well, forced into rows, move in the direction of the ‘baths.’ One feisty young girl that did not want to go, earned a whack in the head, and then spit in the murderer's face. With the butt of his rifle, she fell dead at the hand of the murderer, near me. I envied her, because she could no longer feel the shudder that I feel now. Get undressed! We hear the shout from all sides. Entering the ‘bath’ a woman kapo stood at the threshold, and ‘greeted’ everyone with a blow to the head from a stout stick. I crouched involuntarily, and got a heavy blow to the spine, from which I suffer to this day. I fell down, and I was dragged off to the side by my feet. I lay stiff as the dead, for how long, I myself do not know. I did notice that there were more naked women and girls. The tumult and shouting from the murderous blows got me back up on my feet. When it was full, hands clamored to one another and – with a wild command, we were again chased out to get dressed. I became totally confused, and do not believe that any of this is real. But, in that desolate Hell of Auschwitz, death does not yet come quite so easily. The murderers love the sadistic and bloody toying with their victims. We were led into barracks where there were traces that not long ago, there were people here.

 

Torture at Work

Immediately the following morning, we presented ourselves at roll call. I dragged my feet along with all my strength. I was in terrible pain in the back, from the blow that I had received the prior day. But fear of death, and – no matter how comical it may sound – the will to live, at that moment, indeed, served to lighten the physical suffering. Today, it is difficult for me to understand: How was it that, while we were swollen with hunger, and in constant fear of death, we were able to work so hard in the waters, half naked, in which we were not even permitted to dry whatever clothing we had, but were driven more and more to exert ourselves, and nobody caught cold. There were instances, of sick people in my group, with high fever, being afraid to tell, in order not to be sent to the so-called ‘ovens,’ carried out the most burdensome and difficult work tasks. An instance of this nature occurred with me as well, and quite honestly, it is difficult, very difficult to understand how, and with what sort of mysterious wondrous force, the spirit of life was blown into those dried out skin and bones? Would it be possible in the normal course of an ordinary life, for the body and soul to withstand such physical and emotional stresses and not break? And perhaps the body strengthens the beaten and ailing spirit? Something like this serves as a rationale for me.

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And so, this is how we ‘lived’ in Auschwitz where we were held as a sort of sidelined slave criminals who were sentenced to death. And it was only for the price of being granted several weeks or months, we were compelled to give up the very blood of our living essence. We were considered to be creatures without any feeling, no will, and no comprehension. Whoever so desired, could mete out a beating without a cause, to abuse, and in the face of this, it was forbidden to react. We had to endure the most difficult emotional and physical suffering with superhuman patience.

After an interval of time, selektionen began, and I again saw those bloody terrifying scenes. The fear and terror of such a loathsome death broke me entirely. I could no longer cry; my tears had long ago dried out. But go and figure out the fate of an individual who had always been sent to the ‘right.’ Despite this, I felt that my strength was abandoning me, and life had become repulsive to me, and decided, at one point, not to present myself for work. What will be, will be, I thought.

Precisely on that day, there was an sweep, in which people were seized to be taken to the ovens. I began to run, I myself not knowing to where. I went into a building to hide myself, because under no circumstances did I want to die in this way. A sweep of this nature meant certain death. During a sweep, people were seized who didn't work, or simply hadn't presented themselves for work, that is, people who satisfy no need, people who are loitering about for nothing in God's world. In the building, I spied an empty small barrel, I turned it upside down, and sat in it. Suddenly the door is opened, and through a crack, I see a woman S. S. official, and in the blink of an eye, I went out to her and fell at her feet, and with teeth chattering, I told her, in brief, what I had already lived through as a young child, no less. She heard me out attentively. Come with me! She shouted. I was very afraid, and thought she was taking me away to my death.

 

My New Workplace with Better Conditions

She took me over a variety of small streets, and my heart was beating like that of a robber. The sun was shining clearly, and a cool breeze livened up my otherwise sullen face. We came into a laundry where 40 girls worked, washing laundry. I saw water, which for me was the greatest luxury, because for a bit of filthy water, I would run very far. I also see warm water, meaning, it was possible to drink as much as one wants to, and to wash one's self. For a while, my eyes lit up. You will, for the time being, work here – she said to me. She turned me over to the overseeing washer woman. She spoke at length with the overseer, looking all the time at me, I understood that they were talking about me. What they were saying, I did not know.

I began to work as a laundress, etc. The conditions here were entirely different. I received better food, and the overseer was very good to me. On the sly, she would slip me extra food to eat all the time. In a short while, I told the overseer that I was a seamstress. She seized upon this, indicating that they, indeed, needed a seamstress. Immediately on the following morning, she arranged for me to begin work sewing, where I began to sew for all of the kitchen people, as well as the kapos, who incidentally, were more terrifying than the German murderers. I no longer hungered. I began to feel the first stirring of hope.

I would lie awake at night in the dark, with open eyes and think: Is all of this real? No one lies any longer in ambush for me? I feel a warmth that heals my wounds. I want to forget the sorrowful life, and fill it [instead] with hope for the times of freedom that will arrive. I worked for exactly a year as a seamstress, which for me, was relatively good. Up to beginning sewing, I had spent a year of struggling with the most demanding physical labor.

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The Liquidation of the Good Workplaces

On a certain day, an order arrived to liquidate all of the good working places, and that everyone must return to the same places where they had worked previously, when they had arrived in the Hell hole. At first, I thought that I would not be touched. However, I, too, was told that very early in the morning, I have to report for roll call where I will begin to work at my previous work. It grew dark in my eyes – –

Once again, I began doing the desolate burdensome work in the waters, and again began to suffer hunger, want, and fear of death. At work, I always hit my face, in order not to intercept the gaze of the tall German with the ruffian-like appearance, who would beat us murderously for next to nothing. Woe betide the individual who wanted to rest for a minute. If he would see that someone was no longer capable of work, he shot them immediately. These type of gruesome scenes were a daily occurrence, and how my heart stood this without bursting, I do not know. After a short interval, selektionen began again. Deafened and assaulted by the chaos of the heart-rending screams, it would transport me, like someone who was senseless, and it was a long time before I would recover from it.

There was no end to the frightful suffering. I felt like I was literally going to expire, that I was going to be extinguished like a sputtering candle. I decided to try and find my former overseer, thinking that perhaps she could rescue me. I found her, and she was frightened at my appearance. Always, when we spoke, I would tell her about my heavy labor, and that I can no longer keep myself going, and that she should take pity on my young life, and save me. – Wasting your life is a shame, but what can I do – she said to me with disappointment. – Nevertheless, come to this spot in two hours, perhaps I will be able to do something for you. Despite the fact that I am skeptical about it.

 

My New Work in the Union Factory

With great anxiety, I was barely able to wait for the two hours to go by. When I came to the spot, she was already waiting for me, and greeted me with a smile: You are lucky – she said to me affectionately – you are going to work at the Union Factory. There, a variety of ammunition is produced. There, all the workers are considered very essential, and I believe that you will stay working there – and lowering her head, she added – ‘There you will be able to continue to live.’ At the same time, tomorrow, I was to present myself to the director (I have forgotten his name). I thanked her heartily, and kissed her, took my leave of her and departed. My heart did a little leap for joy. The words of my former overseer, ‘there you will be able to continue to live,’ echoed in my ears. On the morrow, I immediately presented myself to the director, and began working in the munitions factory.

 

I Am Drawn into the Underground

Men, women and girls worked there, mostly people who were under protection. I made the acquaintance of new people. After an interval of time, a girl told me that I am under the observation of the underground that operates in the factory, and that they have decided to take me into their operations. However, I must be very, very careful, because several underworld elements operate here, such as informers, the wives of kapos, etc. My objective, like that of the others who work in the underground, was to steal materiel, and I already knew where to hide it. I immediately agreed, with a pounding heart. In the first days of stealing the materiel, my hands trembled as if in a convulsion, and later on, I became accustomed to it, more bold, and was able to take out more, and turn it over where it was needed. The sense of revenge dominated me to the point that I became

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one of the best ‘thieves.’ From time to time, each would pass on to the other, decisions made by the leaders of the underground, whom not everyone even knew.

On a certain day, almost all of those who worked in the munitions factory were arrested. And everyone was searched. Detailed letters were found in the possession of four girls, from which they found out that they stood at the head of the underground, and that they are principally guilty. A little at a time, those who were arrested, were released. I was detained for only one day, and all returned to their work. However, the girls were held for a long time, and they were tortured with frightful methods in order that they reveal those who belonged to the underground. They withstood all of these tribulations, and betrayed no one.

A time later, it was represented that a large concert was being held that day, in the great hall – with a well-known actress – the hall was decorated with pretty divans, and a jazz band played German Tangos. I, myself, wanted to temporarily forget, and go, but it happened that one of my feet was causing me a great deal of pain. When the hall was fully packed, the musicians disappeared, the doors were locked shut, and gas was let in, and all the people inside died a horrible death.

 

The Judgement

It took a long, long time, until the half-dead inmates of the camp came to themselves. After the ‘concert’ people went around as if they were crazy, freshly made orphans, freshly made widows. My dear friend who worked with me, met a tragic death also at this ‘concert.’ Everyone was devastated by a frightful psychosis of a gruesome, boundless fear. Here and there, Jews – mothers of slain children – not being able to take it anymore, committed suicide. It was said, as if no one will get away, one sooner, and another later. And it was this way that I continued to work at the Union Factory. Everyone had a pale complexion and frightened eyes – dominated by a psychosis of madness. We were now only ghosts of human beings, whose lives had already been taken away.

On a certain day, an order was issued that all inmates of the camp, without exception, have to gather in the large field. Frightened to death, all of us, like one, were driven to the field, not knowing what new calamity is going to befall us. On arrival, we saw four gallows, together with a large wide table, around which sat three judges. To the side, stood the tall lean German, with a pair of angry eyes. The dark moustaches seemed to make his mouth look wider, holding his monocle to his eye that constantly seemed to want to fall. On the table, spread out, lay many papers, books, and folios.

Suddenly, we see the four tortured girls, literally skeletons, with extinguished eyes. My heart seized up when I saw this. Esther'keh, the pretty girl from Warsaw, cried out with her last bit of energy, while going to the gallows: Jews! Do not look at the fact that we are going to our deaths. As far as possible, take revenge against the murderers for the spilling of this innocent blood! There dark end is drawing near! Fight with all your might and take revenge! She collapsed. One of the murderers picked her up and all four girls were led to the table. It became as still as a grave site.

It took a word from the tall German who was the Procurator. With a thundering voice he began to speak to the for unfortunates: You damned Jews, how did you dare to raise your filthy hands against the German Reich. You lousy filthy damned Jews that brought such a bloody war onto the world! We will exterminate you, exterminate you, down to the last one! In the name of the law, let these four criminals be hung! Hang them! He shouted, with such a savagery, that everyone went cold. The judges continued to talk and shout,

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but I could no longer hear. And all of us, pitiably, had to stand there and watch how they hung those four young girls.

Beaten down, with bloodied hearts, we were driven back. Esther'keh's last words rang in my ears, a last will and testament from her choked throat: ‘Jews, take revenge!!’

 

The General Evacuation of the Auschwitz Camp

On January 18, 1945, an order was issued that on this day, a general evacuation of the camp would take place. Everyone, without exception, must be evacuated. Only those who are entirely unable to go, have the right to remain.

A confusion arose among the people. One did not know what to do. What is better – one would ask the other. There were instances of people who presented themselves who were barely able to drag their feet, and the opposite case of people with the capacity to go, who remained behind. I decided to go, let what will be, be I thought, but at least my eyes will not see Auschwitz.

A tumult suddenly arose, and instead of us having to march off in two hours, we were immediately arranged in rows of four, surrounded by our very familiar overseer-murderers, and we marched out of the camp. After going this way for an hour, we were already envious of the people that had stayed behind, and it is possible that they envied us, because we heard a heavy gunfire coming from the direction of the camp. We also observed airplanes flying over the camp. Everyone tried to see if they were Russian airplanes, and as we later became aware, they were, indeed, Russian. My heart ached so for why I had left, but who is to know whether anyone was left before the Russians entered.

We dragged ourselves on, barely, barely able to walk. People began to drop. A heavy-set fat bandit, with a broad back, with a ruddy complexion and a murderer's appearance began to should anyone who fell. He bellowed and screamed like a wild animal. The further we went, the less people remained. Bullets flew and whistled in all directions. I felt that my fate was sealed, by the threat of death lying in ambush for me, and that I would not extract myself.

 

Our Wanderings

In this manner, we dragged ourselves as far as Berlin, and not a third of the people were left. We were billeted in the Malchow camp. This was a fresh Hell. We were not given any work, but also no food. We expired from hunger. Here, a young man stands talking, and here he falls down dead. We were kept in the Malchow camp for three weeks, and then transported to the concentration camp at Ravensbruck. There we stayed for only two days, literally the living dead, swollen from hunger. From Ravensbruck, we were driven to Gross-Rosen. There, they did not want to take us, so we were taken to Magdeburg. We were there for one day. Finally, in the end, we were settled down in a forest that was full of Gypsies. They had been brought there previously, and they were so wild with great hunger, that when we were given a bit of raw rice in our hands, they attacked us and took it away.

After two days of sitting in the forest, we began our trekking again. Among the murderers, every time, another one would disappear. One time, we traversed a field where the workers were harvesting potatoes. A couple of girls went to snatch some potatoes, and immediately three girls fell at my feet from murderous bullets. As I had previously said, we were going four abreast.

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We began to be taken only at night, until we came to Cottbus. We sat down in the street. I was totally swollen up from hunger, and my teeth were chattering from the cold. All around us houses were burning. I was no longer able to stand on my feet at all. I asked the overseer to shoot me. He did not want to. Why is it that yesterday you shot two women when they asked you to? – I asked him. Because I could no longer look at them – he answered me.

With, literally, my last bit of strength, we dragged ourselves to Leipzig. The bombardment and shooting was awful. The German populace flitted about like poisoned mice, and in the blink of an eye, we perceived that we were intermingled with the German populace.

At the same time, the overseer said, with a forced good-natured smile, that he will send us to the Americans that are already on the other side of the river. If I am not mistaken, I believe it was the Elbe. He loaded up a small vessel and only men went into this boat, and he ordered that we wait until it returned. In the middle of the river, he drowned everyone.

When we saw this, as many as we were, we scattered and fled, [because] nobody was guarding us at this time. Nevertheless, I remained very frightened. I saw a large pit, and so went into it and hid myself. Before I even looked around, the pit was full of those who fled. And so, in this manner, we lay in the pit. Night fell, the sky was covered in clouds, the crooked moon, from time to time, provides some light, and then is again concealed behind the clouds that pass across its face. Pressed down on the damp and wet ground, I first got a sense of where I was, and remained frozen. I could not shed a tear, to ease the heaviness that pressed down on me, to choke me. I now first began to understand that I come from Majdanek, from Auschwitz, where the wellspring of my tears were dried up. There, I lost all emotion, all that remained was a flicker of a will to live, crushed by an unknown force.

 

The Liberation

And so, enveloped in such a burdensome homelessness that tossed me about, tore me, and rent me, we hear a shout: Donnerwetter! Heraus! I look about, and I see an S. S. man with a revolver aimed at us. Wer seit ihr! He screamed at us. I responded by saying that we were detainees without protection. What sort of detainees, he screamed even louder. I told him the truth that we were Jews. He quickly unbuttoned himself and took off his S. S. uniform jacket, and remained standing there in a Russian tattered uniform, full of medals, and he gave a shout: Vstavayte Rebiata – – you are liberated from all of your tribulations! Hurrah! Hurrah! Everyone shouted with one voice.

This was on April 23, 1945. I will not forget that date for my entire life. He led us into a large house, where there already were doctors. Everyone was separately examined, and given a variety of medicines, and fed at the same time. We were under Russian protection for a bit of time. Some people died, perhaps because they ate too much, and a little at a time, my strength began to return, and I traveled off to Poland.

In Poland, I saw that I had no life that I could think about. My kin were all dead, the frightening horror rises from the streets, the stones are sticky with the blood of the butchered Jews that will never dry out. The couple of houses, that I see standing like blackened grave markers on a cemetery, my poor little shtetl of Tomaszow-Lubelski, now you are one big mass grave. I immediately left Poland with the few Jews, saved by a miracle, to Germany, in which we began to concentrate ourselves in the so-called D. P. camps. There, I had no rest at all. Night after night, I screamed in my sleep. Often, I would not want to lie down and go to sleep. I

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became very exhausted, until finally, I traveled to the Land of Israel, where I could not even dream of my horrifying years.

Today, I am in Israel with a husband and two hearty little children, and it pains and bloodies the heart that my nearest and dearest did not live to see this. And I will never forget what Hitler ימ”ש did to our people. Remember what Amalek did to you!!


Translator's footnotes
  1. Out, you damned pigs! Return
  2. Shit Return


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My Experiences

by Charna Kaufman-Eilen

Taken down by Yaakov Schwartz

 

Tom679.jpg
Charna Kaufman-Eilen

 

We lived in Tomaszow on the school street Szkolna 21 where we had a small enough house where we ran a bakery. My parents ע”ה worked very hard, because we could not afford the larger premises that a bakery demanded. And they earned their livelihood in a decent and honest manner. I, and my older sister Chana, helped with the baking in the house, and after work, I learned how to sew.

In the last times, the high taxes literally flayed off our hides. Anti-Semitism stalked is at every turn. We were constantly pressed into the small houses, where all around us, we could feel the poisonous hatred towards the Jew, where the air, the sun, the earth, the sky, and even the wind belonged to the gentile. And it is therefore no wonder, that a strong, dark pessimistic wind blew through the shtetl, and under no circumstances, admitted so much a s a single ray of sunshine. However, at no time, did I permit myself to be completely saturated with this pessimism, but hoped for a better day, on a better tomorrow….

 

My Four Good Years in Wloclawek

In 1935 I got married in Wloclawek. My husband, who himself comes from Szydlowiec-Radomsk lived in Wloclawek, where we had arranged a nice home for ourselves, with pretty furniture. My husband made a good living. In my spare time, I participated in a good cultural milieu, and literally began to sense my quiet, modest, fortunate family life. But the sun shined for us this way, for only four years.

 

My Three Frightful Months with the German Executioners

In the year 1939, the frightful war broke out, and the Germans bombed Wloclawek immediately, where hundreds of killed people fell. On the second day of the war, the murderers had already marched into the city with tumult and din, and they shot every Jew that they encountered. A frightful panic ensued, the Jewish populace ran around as if insane, looking for places to hide, not knowing where to look for a refuge.

Exactly on the eve of Rosh Hashana, when the Jews, clandestinely, assembles to pray, with broken and wounded hearts, beseeching mercy in regards to the great calamity that had suddenly fallen on all of us Jews, tow S. S. murderers suddenly entered with a wild laughter, and seized a Jew along with his 19 year-old son, and took them to their home, conducted a severe search and after that led the father and son out and administered a severe beating, screaming at the father: You despicable Jew, dig the pit faster, faster. When the pit had been completed, they shot the son, and tossed him right into the pit, and the father was compelled afterwards to fill in the pit, hearing the shouting and screams coming out of the pit, from his son who was still half alive.

On the following morning, all the men were dragged out from the houses, arrayed in rows, eight abreast, and with hands held up, all had to shout: ‘Today we are all going to be shot because this is what we have earned.’

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And this is what happened every day, when we went at six in the morning to the frightful and heavy forced labor, and returned from work at six in the evening. But every day, fewer Jews returned, since people were shot for the slightest thing. For not being able to carry a heavy load, the penalty was death, and hundreds of people were drowned. The work consisted of extracting the pillars of a bridge from very deep water, which had previously been wrecked.

My husband also worked at this devastating labor. When he came home, I could not recognize him, his eyes glazed over, beaten, bloodied, wet, soaked through. We wept over our dark fate, and who was to know what misfortune the following day would bring. The work was a bit easier on my husband, because he was a good swimmer.

 

My Husband Flees to Tomaszow

One time, he could no longer contain himself, and he swam off underwater. The murderers shot after him a couple of times, but miraculously, the bullets did not hit him, and he got away from there. After long and difficult wandering, he arrived in Tomaszow to try and locate my parents. He totally did not recognize Tomaszow. He did not see a single Jew. From a local gentile woman, he became aware that my parents were to be found in Rawa Ruska. To this day, I cannot grasp how, by way of a variety of back roads, he was able to illegally cross the border and reach my parents in Rawa Ruska. However, my parents were already [by that time] in Russia. From Rawa [Ruska], my husband traveled to Bialystok, hoping to find me. This was what we had agreed to previously.

In Wloclawek, I remained with my brother Fishl, his wife and his two children, where we were by now already wearing yellow badges. The situation grew worse from day to day. Each day brought fresh misfortunes with it. One of my neighbors, a dear and full hearted elderly Jewish man, was seized by the murderers, and had his beard ripped out, and when his face and head were running with blood from the beatings, he was forced to dance and sing, and they, the scum, laughed heartily and photographed this hapless Jew in a variety of poses, until they tortured him to the point that he gave up his holy soul, and expired.

Pursued by unrest and great fear born of the desire to find a modicum of refuge in our uncertain situation, I still needed to go look for something to eat for my starved children. Wearing the yellow badge, I was forbidden to go where people traverse in the middle of the road where people travel.

Once, when I was proceeding with a pounding heart, a German murderer was approaching me. In the moment, I wanted to turn away, but the sharp glance from his two thieving eyes riveted me to the spot. ‘Come here, you despicable Jewess!’ – he shouted at me, and grabbing me by the throat, he led me to a rather large office, and ordered me to wash all of the rooms, and polish all the windows, wipe off all the tables, and this needs to be made clean and sparkling in accordance with the taste of the German master race, and if it does not meet with his satisfaction, he will – and he made a motion with his index finger, drawing it across his throat. I asked him to give me a couple of rags with which to wash. And he gave me a slap across the face, such that it became dark before my eyes. Blood ran from my teeth, and the murderer shouted at me to take off my garment, and use the garment to wash. In great shame, and with a bloodied heart, I took off the garment, and began to wash and clean. A well of tears poured from my eyes as I was washing the windows. In no way could I get control of the spasmodic crying that ran through me like a storm, because only a mother can have the emotion that not far away lie the poor hungry children, crying and begging for a morsel of bread. I finished the work after six or seven hours. The murderer arrived back, and I had my garment, that was by now torn, rinsed out, and put on while wet. He smiled, since apparently, it satisfied him. But in a

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moment, his face became ignited, and he gave a wild shout: Get out, you filthy Jewess! He gave me a shove, and threw me out.

Coming ‘home,’ exhausted and hungry, spat upon and bloodied, I could not stand the cry of the children any longer, and so, I fainted. When I came to, after a longer time, and I lay ill for two weeks time.

A short time later, inspections and searches were conducted every day, in all of the Jewish homes, and they took away everything that caught their fancy, underwear, blankets, fur coats, silverware, and money. And each person was required to carry this to the place that they ordered. There were instances when the murderers tore off earrings, with pieces of ears, as well as fingers from hands. When everything had already been stolen from me, A Volksdeutsch came into my home, and told me that I was to vacate my home in 24 hours and take nothing with me. I am to leave everything that is here behind. On the following day, immediately in the morning, the Volksdeutsch brought me a paper document indicating that he had taken possession of this residence from me, And I have the right to travel to my parents in Tomaszow. A gentile woman whom I knew, provided me with a document identifying me as a Polish woman, and my name was Ceska Cerunska. Despite the fact that the paper had no picture, and was certainly worthless, I paid her well, hoping that maybe it will prove useful, couple with the fact that more or less, I had Aryan features. The Volksdeutsch was very ‘personable’ in permitting me to remain in ‘my’ home for a couple of extra hours.

 

I Go Off to Bialystok

In the end, barefoot and naked, with two tiny children in each hand, I went by a variety of back roads, to the train. With a pounding heart, I discarded the yellow badge. The gray-dak sky looked forbidding, heavy black clouds chased after each other across the skies, and on top of this, an intense driving rain fell, giving the appearance that everything was weeping along with us over our great calamity. Coming to the train station, barely alive, I entered the car where the gentiles rode, because Jews were supposed to ride in a separate car. For the entire journey, I heard the tumult and screaming from the car where the Jews were, and were the German bandits were tearing away tiny children out of the arms of their mothers, and throwing them out of the windows. The entire way was full of blood and tears. I even had no right to cry, because I was among gentiles, and didn't want to give myself away.

The train dragged itself to Warsaw. In Warsaw we encountered only destruction. From Warsaw, we dragged ourselves to Malkin, to the border. With very difficult struggling, and intense exertion, with beating and blows, it became possible for me, and the children to flee across the border by using back roads. But until we were able to get to Bialystok, we had to lay in a large pit for four days, in which there already were people previously. This was until we saw a platform, and we were taken out and taken to Bialystok, where we were able to breathe more freely, and where my three-months of frightful suffering and torture came to an end. May the German murderers be cursed for generation on generation to come, for the spilled blood, for the bestial murders of the Jewish people.

I was not in Bialystok for long. I suffered a great deal from my child that had gotten very sick. Standing one day in a queue for bread, I spied my husband, and gave a shout of joy, and choking tears overwhelmed me, and communicated our tragic experiences.

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From Bialystok, we traveled to Lemberg. There, I learned from a Jew from Tomaszow, that my parents are in Vinnitsia.[1] We decided to travel to them. My entire family was with them already, my sister Chana, with her husband Abba with their child, my brother Fishl, with his wife and child (P.S. how it was that my brother Fishl, with his wife and child, extracted themselves from the German Hell, is a separate story). Also, my brother Abraham [was there] with his bride. A terrible longing befell me for my entire family and we traveled to them.

 

My Life in Russia

The echelon that took us to Russia did not go to Vinnitsia, but rather to Voronezh. And we had to remain there. A while later, I became aware of the address of my parents, and remained continuously in contact with them.

In the year 1941, I traveled to my parents in Vinnitsia. Our joy was boundless, telling each other about our experiences. Remaining there for a few days, I traveled back, when the first misfortune befell me. My sick child died, and we gave the first victim to the Nazi murderers ימ”ש (as I have already noted, my child had fallen ill when I fled to the border).

Four weeks later, the German-Russian War broke out. A terror seized everyone immediately. The [image] of the German murderer was well incised into my memory. Frightened and disassembled, as if someone had just flung me back into that dark time, I was shot through with the atmosphere of those gruesome throes of death and dying. All the frightening and horrible images came swimming up in front of my eyes all at once, and I saw my tortured neighbor, how blood was pouring off of him. I hear his last groan, before he gave up his gentle soul, and here I see the cars, already, crammed full of Jews that are being evacuated from the already bombed out little towns. Jews with extinguished and frightened eyes, weeping and screaming from children, the men dragging valises with them, families holding each other by the hand, older people barely able to stand on their feet, mothers calling to children, and vice versa, everything screams out of great confusion, and in every nook and cranny I looked, perhaps, perhaps I will spy my dear parents and brothers with the family. Regrettably, they did not come (my brother-in-law Abba Gross was already at the front).

It did not take long, and the German front moved towards Voronezh. We evacuated ourselves further, and later on again even more further. It was in this way that we wandered, from one place to another until we settled down in the place, and lived through the war, living continuously with the hope of finding out where my dearest and nearest could be found.

 

Our Return to Poland, and the Effect on Me of the Bad News

On returning to Poland, we took up residence in Wroclaw. The first thing I did was go to the Jewish Committee, on the chance that I might find out something about my parents. In the courtyard, I am approached by the tall Yaak'l Wolf Schuster (I don't remember his family name) and says to me: Charna, whom are you looking for? Tragically, your parents, sisters, brothers, with the entire family were buried alive in a large mass grave, where there are 36 thousand Jews, and many of them from Tomaszow. My wife and

[Page 424]

five children also are interred there. I, personally, was at the site of this grave as a military man, where I mourned them, and left them – –[2]

Fiery sparks began to fly before my eyes. I felt that any minute, and I was going to fall down. And from my mouth, words poured out, words that butchered like flaming spears. I pictured how Nahum Schuldiner's children were sent as messengers to their parents, telling them that tomorrow the full extermination of all the Jews will take place, that they should find some place to hide themselves, and to tell their nearby neighbors that they should hide themselves. Then Nahum Schuldiner ע”ה came to my father, Yud'l Eilen ע”ה and said that he had decided that wherever all the Jews were going, that we also have to go. Indeed, they went, and paid so dearly.

He also told me about the tragic death of my sister Chana ע”ה. She was standing at the open great pit with her pretty, full hearted little daughter and wept sympathetically and tore the hair out of her head. My parents with the entire family had already been tossed into the pit, and cried out from the pit. A human impulse appears to have overcome a German murderer, and chased her away. Then she shouted out proudly: Take no pity on me, I am also going there, where my parents, brothers and all the Jews are going! And with her child, she immediately jumped into the pit, where no one was shot, but immediately covered with the earth. This was told to him by a Jew would was saved who knew my family, giving him an accounting of all those from Tomaszow who were buried alive there.

I fell down and fainted. I became sick. I lay [ill] for a long time, my bloodied heart being unable to heal: Alone, only I remained out of my entire family. Today, I am in Israel, with three children with my husband who also remained as the only one left out of eight children. And in my heart, I carry a deep wound, for the six million butchered martyrs, and among them, my nearest and dearest, who will always remain sacred and dear in my memory.


Translator's footnotes
  1. In Polish, the name of this Ukrainian city is rendered Winnic. Return
  2. The description of this mass grave, and the environs, suggests that this is the notorious killing ravine at Babi Yar in the Ukrainian city of Kiev. Return

 

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