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Like many other Jews, I have not heard from my family in Europe, where it lived before the Holocaust, in the town of Zborow in Eastern Galicia. I previously surmised the meaning of that, but now, it has become known to all: only 60 Jews survived in my native town, and not all were from among the old-timers in town. None of the survivors was saved in the town itself; everything was ruined and destroyed, and the survivors concentrated in Krakow, or the cities of Lower Silesia.

I turned to a townsman who by good fortune his wife and two children survived thanks to a bunker where they hid for 16 months. I asked him to write me the details of the disaster that befell our town. His name is Leib Kronisch, and he lives in Krakow.

I had a feeling, and I instinctively felt that my family members were not alive any longer, I did not know how many perished, when, and where. In my heart, I hoped that one of them was saved…

I work at night, wake up before noon, and cannot avoid peeking into the mailbox to see if any letters arrived. That is a habit I acquired during the war when I waited for letters from my son, who took part in the Pacific Ocean battles as a soldier of the US military. And here, I notice a letter with Polish stamps on it–airmail–from my fellow townsman…

No, I do not need to ask the rabbi about sitting shiva. I trust the things my townsman told me, and I trust the man. One has to believe a Jewish survivor, particularly at this time, when he sends us news of that kind, accompanied by an apology…

I take the alarm clock and put it near me. I do not want to cheat, G-d forbid, my three sisters who perished before their time, and rob them even of a minute. I want to pay them my last personal debt. I sit down on the low stool, fulfilling the commandment of shiva, crying after my sister, my brothers-in-law, and their children.

Most of my family members on both my father's and my mother's sides were annihilated. Only four people from my mother's side survived.

I sit down and mourn my personal grief, crying over the destruction of the Jewish community of more than 6,000 souls, and grieving about my destitute nation. I bow my head, and, in my sorrow, I cover my face with the palms of my hands. My tears roll down, and my heart is torn apart. The memories from my youth are rising in my head. I think about the people whom I do not where their ashes are located and whether they received a proper Jewish burial.

Who would dare to say: “Our hands did not spill this blood?” Everybody is guilty in that annihilation. Every one of us must answer to history for the slaughtering and killing of peaceful and innocent people. Could we simply wash our hands, claiming to be innocent before history's master? I doubt it. “Man is a wolf to man”–

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says the Roman phrase; but if we tell the wolves about the exploits of the human race, they surely would be badly offended that we equate them to us.

Whatever the German beast did was seven times more horrible than the cruel acts of a wolf pack; however, surprisingly, they are considered, even today, as a cultural nation, but they, compared to the wolves, are the murderous animals.

The German murderers entered Zborow following the retreat of the Red Army on July 1, 1941, and they began the slaughter on July 4th. On that day, they stood a thousand Jewish men at the river bank and shot them all. That's where they lay, the pure martyrs who were murdered for their only sin–being Jewish! Among the first victims was my brother-in-law. We say in their memory what we learned from our sages: “Blessed be the memory of the righteous, and the name of the evil be blotted out.”

After the first slaughter, the blood-thirsty Germans continued to torture and oppress Zborow's Jews using the unique German method until August 29, 1942, when they loaded 1,300 Jewish men, women, and children on freight train cars and transported them to the annihilation camp Belzec, where they put them on the stake in the crematoriums. My two sisters, one of my brothers-in-law, and some of their children were among them. It took place in the middle of the summer when it was extremely hot. The “master race” beasts compressed people into train cars without food, water, or air. We would never know the number of people who died during the transport. The daughter of my elder sister could have survived, as she was recruited to the work battalion; however, she preferred to join her parents on their way to certain death.

A year later, on July 23, 1943, the murderers began a new operation to eliminate the remaining Zborow Jews. They kidnapped any Jew they encountered or knew where they were and executed them all near the Polish sports building “Sokolnia.” They are buried there in a mass grave. I had a substantial “part” in that operation also: my younger sister and the daughter of the older sister were murdered there. Her husband and the daughter of my younger sister managed to escape and hid in a bunker prepared in advance by Jews. The bloodhounds discovered them, and they had to leave the bunker under the cover of night. During the escape, my brother-in-law entered a village to ask for a cup of water and said he was running to hide in the forest. Any traces of him were lost since then. It is possible that the Gentiles turned him to the Germans, or perhaps the Germans themselves caught and executed him.

I rise from the shiva stool. My wife cites the traditional phrase and wishes me to not experience any sorrow again. She wants to comfort me, and I am sending a quiet and warm prayer toward the heavens: “Our Father, Our King, avenge the innocent blood of your servants…” Oh, my G-d, it is not in my power to take revenge on the German murderers, and I cannot be the redeemer of the blood of my sisters, brothers-in-law, and their children… You will take our revenge! Repay them as their wickedness “for those who were killed in your holy name,” for the destruction of my native town and hundreds of other towns.”

Author's Note

The article was written with the first news about the annihilation of Zborow's Jews in the Jewish daily Der Tag [The Day] on 6.3.1946.

[Page 39 - Hebrew] [Pages 50-64 - Yiddish]

The bombing of Zborow created two holes, one near the prison and the other near Adler's house. After work, the Jews were taken to these ditches and shot. This was on a Friday. The shooting stopped at 7 that evening. The next day, Shabbat, the remaining people went back to work and were again shot in the afternoon. During the following two days, 1,300 Jews were murdered. Many who fell in the ditches were wounded but still buried alive.

Question: Did more Aktions [rounding up and executions, i.e., action] take place between 1941 and 1943?

There was another one in Belzec. In the meantime, a contributsia [a ransom] was imposed on the town. The Germans demanded money or human life. They were bribed with gold, furs, and jewelry. This was organized by the Judenrat [Jewish Council appointed by the Germans]. Afterwards, the town calmed down for about a year.

		Memorial Monument This stone will be our eternal witness to the memory of the Holy Congregation of ZBOROW and its surrounding area (Eastern Galicia) ZBOROW Who perished in the years of Shoah Memorial day 20th of Tammuz May their souls rest with the Shechinah
Memorialized by the organization of survivors of Zborow and its surroundings in Israel and the Diaspora

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One day it was rumored that they were again demanding people. One Friday night, they carried out an Aktion. They demanded 1,000 Jews from Zborow itself and 500 from neighboring towns.

The Judenrat was never informed of this Aktion. By the time the head of the Judenrat ran and heard the shooting, the Germans had arrested 1,300 Jews. But this was not enough and they traveled to Jezierna and seized another 200 Jews.

Between the second and third Aktion, there were smaller ones: groups of Jews, accused of Communism, were taken to the forest and were never seen or heard of again.

Before the third German engineers arrived and were lead to the outskirts of town where they took measurements and planned. Rumors circulated among Jews that they intended to build army camps. Some actually believed this. But in the end, Jews were led to the trenches and shot.

Question: Was there an enclosed ghetto in Zborow surrounded by a wall?

There was no enclosed ghetto in Zborow, only closed camps (surrounded by barbed wire).

Question: Did you have to wear a badge or a star?

We had to wear a yellow badge with a Star of David.

During the third Aktion, the camps were liquidated. Only two remained: a prison camp and a free labor camp. People in the prison camp were guarded, but people in the labor camp were allowed to leave. They were guarded only when taken to work.

Question: What kind of work?

They worked on highways, roads, and train stations.

Before the last Aktion, we knew what awaited us. These were our last days and soon they would execute us. Rumors of liquidations of one camp after the other in the area reached us. The coachman, named Linder, who transported the police, was taken to Kazimirovka, and after they liquidated that camp they took him off the coach in Zborow and shot him.

Panic arose in Zborow. We knew that after the liquidation of the Pluhov and Kazimirovka camps it would be our turn.

I was hidden by a gentile near the camp. The house belonged to a Jewish family named Schechter. The family was murdered by the Germans and the house remained empty.

We looked for a hiding place near a noisy area, a camp or a police station, so that house met our needs. We brought in a Christian friend from Lvov–Wladek Leshtinski, to rent the house for us from the authorities. Of course he did not tell them why he needed the house... He told them that he and his wife lived in the village but since their house had burned down they had no place to live and he asked to rent this house. The Germans agreed and the couple moved in. We set up a hiding place, first in the attic and later we dug a bunker underneath.

I met Wladek when his wife was a servant for my parents. His wife's sister lived in a village near Zborow called Halshetzina. They were very poor and after they left us they became servants of the Hochberg family in Lvov. Hochberg was a major business man but realizing that he had no choice and no way to hide his daughter Janka, he moved her to the village with Wladek's wife's sister and her brother, Helka and Genik Shinkevitz. But the place was small: the apartment was very narrow and they had no room to hide the girl from the neighbors. The girl roamed inside and outside and the villagers realized after gossiping that she was Jewish.

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Rescuers of Jews. Wladek Leshtinski and His Wife Stifa, Her Sister Helka, and Brother Genik Shienkwicz.

Question: Were there other people hiding with you?

We were 10 people altogether. The Alterman couple with two children, Mrs. Goldstein and her son, I and my wife Dvorah (nee Turkfeld), Janka Hochberg the girl from Lvov, and Bomek Adler.

Bomek came to us when we were already in the house. He knew that were hiding in that house. So when the Germans set fire to the camp, he jumped at the last moment from the upper floor and hid with us in the attic. As it happened Wladek, the owner, was there when Bomek arrived and he became deathly afraid. When he saw him he pleaded with us, “Let me enter,” to Fuhrman and the Goldsteins. Wladek realized that he knew of our hideout and let him in.

The Germans chased Bomek and upon reaching the yard they said “a Jew ran away and he is probably hiding in your attic.” The gentile was smart and told them quietly: No! There are no Jews here. I watch to make sure that no Jew sneaks in here–the Germans left.

At the time of the liquidation of the camp, several Jews had revolvers. When the Germans surrounded the camp to remove the Jews, they started to shoot at the Germans who got scared and looked for cover. The Jews, however, did not dare leave the camp. In the meantime, reinforcements from the SS arrived and the Germans doused gasoline on the building and set it on fire to burn the Jews alive.

To prevent the fire from reaching Wladek's house, the Germans placed fire fighters on the roof.

While the camp was burning a sheigetz [derogatory term for Gentile man] with blood on his hands entered and asked the owner–Wladek–“give me some water to wash my hands. I just killed two Jews.” Wladek asked him “who did you murder?” He replied- “Moshe Hemar and Binyamin Fleischer.” The murderer's name was Krasotski.

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Several days after the camp liquidation, a group of partisans arrived and surrounded the town. They entered the firehouse and ordered everyone to lie down on the floor. They asked if there were any Jews among them so they could take them with them.

They then entered the Spolka Sfoldozhletsia (a Polish consumer organization) and took all the supplies. They sent everyone there to the basement and did not allow anyone to leave the building. After removing the supplies and loading them on trucks they left town. They did not take any Jews since by then they were none left.

Question: Do you know who these partisans were?

I think they were members of Kovpag (a Communist partisan army). It is worth mentioning that in Zborow there was a large bunker built by a youth group to which my brother belonged. It took nine months of labor and much money to complete the bunker. It was an underground bunker under a mountain. Should they need to flee and hide, the group figured that they could remain in that bunker without outside help. They stored food and weapons. Many of the Judenrat members participated hoping to be able to hide there if needed. Silberg, a member of the group, purchased the needed weapons, But the situation turned risky when the SS started to investigate. So Silberg put on a policeman's uniform and went to a village near Zborow to buy weapons. Unfortunately, they were arrested by an SS man, who knew the Jewish policemen in Zborow, and knew that the prisoner was not a policeman. Silberg pleaded that he did it just for a lark with no special purpose....

Although he did not have any weapon when caught he knew what to expect so as soon as the German left him alone he managed to escape.

When, upon returning, the German saw that Silberg was not there. He first went to the house where Silberg lived. This house belonged to the Kaufmans and he shot all of them. He then send for the head of the Judenrat and told him—If you do not find Silberg, I will shoot ten Jews every few hours.

The head of the Judenrat pleaded: How can I do this? Maybe he committed suicide....

The German answered: I don't care if you bring him dead or alive but you must bring him.

They started negotiating with him. They offered money and gold for Silberg as long as they would not have to bring him, but he would not relent. In the meantime, the members of the Judenrat who lived away from the area met at Zunia Auerbach's house (he was a member of the Judenrat) and agreed that if they were able to bribe the German then fine, but if, God forbid, not, they would have to poison Silberg and bring his body to the German. They were afraid that if they delivered him alive, he would break down under torture and reveal all. They decided to wait for the Judenrat Head until 10. If upon his return he gave an agreed signal it would indicate that the matter is unresolved. A different signal would mean that he was not successful. They would then have tea and use it to poison Silberg.

Very fortunately, the head of the Judenrat returned at 10 and said the Silberg was free. Afterwards, Silberg hid in the bunker and never went outside. Others delayed going into hiding till the last minute when the liquidation started, but at that point, they could not reach the bunker in time and it appears that there were no more than two or three people there.

When winter arrived, and they needed something or for any other reason, the bunker residents would open it and so reveal that someone was there.

The bunker was in David Schwab's room. A devilish scoundrel lived not far from there, his name was Janek,

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But, I don't know his family name. He started snooping around until he bumped into the door....He opened it.......So this Janek hurried to the police and informed that he had discovered a bunker. The police went there and decided that it was not a bunker–it was a ruin from the days of the Tatars and there was no one there. But Janek would not let it rest and continued his snooping day and night.

It seems that the people below could not stand it and one of them shot outside. When Janek heard the gunshot, he ran again to the police and this time they returned with hand grenades.

One person appeared outside and was shot near the exit. It was Dolek Raubfogel. Afterwards, they blew up the bunker and to this day the number and identity of these people remains unknown.

I remember: there were provocations by the Germans. They hired a Ukrainian and sent him to the Jews who worked on the road between Tarnopol and Zloczow. He told the Jews that he was an envoy of the Russian partisans and that he wanted to keep in touch with the Jews. They asked him how he would do this. He answered that a child would bring them letters and they would give the child their answers. So they would be in continuous communication.

This happened after the liquidation of the camps in Pluhov and Kazimirovka, and they knew that the Zborow camp would be eventually liquidated. So they went along and started sending letters asking the partisans to liberate them. Otherwise–they would be forced to find another way.

In the camp, there was a group that had a few weapons. My brother-in-law, Shmuel Melles, was the driver for an SS man, Klaus. At some point, I could have taken Melles to our hideout. But the group was against it since he was the only one who could drive. They thought that when the time came to escape he would kill the two SS men, grab their car and weapons, and escape to the forest. They described their plan to the partisans but their letters went directly to the German police. The “partisans” wrote them to be patient and to wait a few more days. After several days the Germans arrived and surrounded the camp and proceeded to liquidate it. Two members of the group shot in the air and told people to escape. But the Jews were afraid to move. The Germans were also frightened when they heard the shots and worried that the Jews had large number of weapons, Two hours went by before an SS reinforcement arrived from Tarnopol. They were afraid to enter the camp–thinking that the Jews were armed. Instead, they poured gasoline on the camp and set it on fire. Some were lucky to escape, the others burned alive.

Another event: There were several well-to-do Jews who decided to cross the frontier to Hungary. They included Afrat, Yankel Zeigerson, and three refugees. A Russian driver who had been with us since 1939 worked for the German police. They told him of their secret plan and, probably, promised a large reward for his help. He immediately told the German police which day he would be on his way with the five Jews who carried a large amount of money, gold, and weapons. He would stop on the road leading to Pomerzany claiming that the car had broken down and he needed to fix it. This then would be an opportunity to eliminate them with a few grenades.

And that was what happened. At the right moment, the Germans jumped out of the bushes, murdered the Jews in the car and stole everything they had. Upon their return they (the police) accused the head of the Judenrat of knowing that Jews had weapons and an underground bunker and he was directly involved ....Understandably, the Judenrat head protested that he knew nothing.

After several days, an SS man went to Fuchs, a member of the Judenrat, and demanded that he buy two hats for him. Fuchs brought him the two hats, but the SS man asked him to bring them to his house that was behind the police station. Fuchs brought the hats to his house

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and on the way back he was stopped by a policeman in front of the station who told him: “Come in, we need to ask you something.”

It turned out later that the same thing happened to the head of the second camp (named Rhat). After Fuchs' arrival at the police station, Rhat was brought there, too. The Germans attacked them asking about the secret bunker and the weapons. When they refused to tell them they smashed their hands, stabbed their eyes and finally shot them.

As it happened, Fuchs' wife was in the camp. She knew that he had gone with the hats. When he did not come back, she understood that something happened....She went to the SS man Klaus and asked him to let her visit her sister and he agreed.

Mrs. Fuchs went to the hideout in a Gentile's place at the outskirts of town. This gentile lived a few meters from the burying place of the two Jews. At night, he uncovered their graves and told us, after returning, that Fuchs' and Rhat's eyes had been stabbed and their hands smashed and then shot.

At the time of the liquidation in 1943, burning the camp was not enough for the Germans. They carried out a thorough search of the Jews and drove them out of their houses. They ran around like madmen after the Jews and used all kind of ruses. Near Wladek's house there were three other houses.

The Germans tore down all three and built bunkers for themselves. After they pressured Wladek to sell them his house so they could also tear it down. The police had escaped by then, only the local commander and his workers were left. They would come to Wladek daily and demanded that he give up the house.

Since they had worked for us, the landlords spoke Yiddish, so they could converse with the Germans. They would give them some food each time as long as they left. Since the Germans realized that they got something each time they would return daily to “tear down” the house.....

While staying in Wladek's attic, we were sure that eventually we would have to find another hiding place or escape. We therefore asked our landlords to obtain food for us. We also realized that our location would soon be a battlefield between the Germans and the Russians. So we asked permission from the landlords to dig a bunker.

The house was quite large and its walls were 60 cm [2ft] deep. We planned to dig to down to 3.5 meters [12ft] and build the bunker inside the hole covered with 1.5 meter [6ft] so that it could withstand an explosion.

We dug at night but when we reached a depth of 1.5 meters, we found human bones and wood pieces. We figured that we had found remnant of a dug out dating back to the Tartar period. It became impossible to breathe and we could not continue to dig. We tried unsuccessfully to light a candle and realized that we would not be able to stay there. We covered it back up.

So, finally we came up with the idea of using the basement. We built a dividing wall to separate part of the basement as a hideout. We then went down and hid there.

In the meantime, our landlords stocked food for us and hung the sausages they had bought the attic to let it dry.

The Germans continued to come daily and threatened to tear down the house. During one of their visits, they snuck up to the attic and took the sausages.

Wladek's wife went up to the attic and saw that the sausages had disappeared and started to complain loudly about the stolen sausages....We tried unsuccessfully to calm her down. “How can it be-the sausages have disappeared?” she complained. “No I will not keep quiet about this! I must get the sausages back!!!”

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She went to the local commander and told him the whole story, how her house burned down and had to move to her present house. Her husband earns very little and they can barely survive and on top of that they come daily and threaten to tear down the house. Each time they take the food she has prepared. And now after she prepared several pounds of sausages for emergency the Germans took it....

The commander agreed to go with her and look for the thieves, found them in the bar drinking and near them the car and the stolen sausages inside.

The local commander told her to take the sausages and go home, but she insisted that she would not go until he sent someone with her to write on the wall “Destruction is forbidden”! If not they would return the next day and tear down the house.

The commander agreed and sent a man who wrote the note and signed below: the Local Commander.

When the Germans came back the next day and knocked on the door, she yelled at them in Yiddish: “Listen, don't you see what's written here?!”

Much later, the Russians distributed leaflets informing that they would bomb the town and the Germans decided to withdraw (that was in1944).

The German withdrawal started on a Friday morning. Our landlords were not able to get us water when they heard of the withdrawal. They got scared and wanted to run away. When we complained, Wladek took the pails to bring us water. As it happened, he ran into the city mayor who, when he saw him with the pails, asked: “Everybody is running away and you carry water? It looks like you are hiding Jews....”

Fortunately, there was no time. The whole town was escaping and he could not do any inquiries.

Everybody ran away and we were left alone. We remained on Friday, on Shabbat and Sunday but saw no living soul... On Sunday, several Germans came to disconnect the phones, we saw them through the window. After this day until Thursday we saw no one and did not know if we should get out.

On Friday morning, looking out the window, we saw the first Russian patrol. Some of us wanted to go out and meet them, but I said: “Don't be in such a hurry. There may be Germans still in the area-it's impossible to know for sure...”

We waited patiently for about an hour. We then saw the Russians transporting a group of German prisoners. We called to the Russians and they approached us. We wanted to show them our bunker, but they were scared and said they believed us.        

The front line was beyond Zborow and Lvov had been taken two days ago. Therefore, they continued the road to Brody. That was in July 1944.

We came out of our hiding place but could barely walk since for the last year and a half we had to remain seated because of the low ceiling in the attic.

In spite of this, we went on our way. As we were leaving the town, the Russians told us that Tarnopol had been taken 2.5 months ago and that things were quiet and we should go there.

So we marched a whole day and reached the village of Irtshovtzha located 7 km [4miles] from Zborow. It was nightfall and we asked the Russians “What should we do?” They warned us to avoid the fields since Germans and many bandrovitsim [?] hid there. We should therefore travel on the road to avoid disaster.

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After awhile, we could not walk anymore and we sat by the side of the road. Sometime later, a truck approached and stopped in front of us. The driver asked in Russian: “Are you Jewish?” We answered–yes! Since we were headed to Tarnopol, he let us in the truck.

He was a Soviet major–Jewish. He drove us to Tarnopol, took us to a restaurant and told the owner to give us food and he would pay for it. But the owner replied: “Thanks for bringing them but I'll pay for their meal.”

We remained in Tarnopol for 2 days–Friday and Shabbat. On Sunday, we returned to Zborow.

When we reached the house where we hid we saw a truck nearby, a Jew (named Leinwand who now lives in Austria) was standing there and negotiating with the Russians. They drove their truck there and planned to take all the goods left in the bunker. The Jewish man happened to walk by and told them that these goods belonged to Jews and that they should not take them. These were the same Russians we saw first when they entered the town so we talked to them. They were sure that we had run away and wanted to collect the abandoned loot.

If not for this Jew, they would have taken everything. We got there just in time..... They started complaining that we had gasoline and other similar stuff, but we told them that everything there belongs to us and not them. If needed, we would give anything required to the government. Realizing that we would not relent they left....

Question: Do you remember other events that occurred during the Nazi period?

Yes, I remember several facts. During the first Aktion, when the Germans entered the old Rabbi BenZion Schalita's house, he took the Torah scroll and went out to the street. The Germans chased him, and beat him to death while the scroll was in his arms.

Rabbi Miroslav also lived with us in Zborow. He was caught and taken to be shot with the rest of the Jews. After they shot and missed three times, a policeman approached him, hit his back with his riffle and said “Scram Jew” and so he survived.

Dr. Dreytler, originaly from Tarnopol, lived in Zborow. After being caught they beat him brutally.

Since he was tall, they placed him in the front row. The execution place was near the court house and when he was brought there he turned toward the Jews and said:

Children! Know that they will pay for spilling our blood. A day will come when their blood will be spilled just like ours today....

The Germans beat him and by the time they brought him to be executed, he was already dead.

By the way, when they took us initially to Blotzh most people were from Zborow. The few I remember were mostly my family: Fuhrman Family, Turkfeld Family, Hershel Mintz and his children, Hershel Fuhrman and his entire family. Moshe Eisen and his family, Pulwers Family, the Silbermans, several from the Nussbaum family, Leahtshe Habalnit, Esther Holin and her entire family, Yochanan Fenster and his family, the Schwabs, Moshe Jung and his family, the Adlers... I cannot remember other names. This Aktion was carried out by SS members: Klaus, Kapotsare, and Fuchs.

The town of Pomarin [Pomorzany] was located 15 km [9 miles] from Zborow. While the Aktions were carried out in Zborow, none of the Pomorzany Jews were hurt. The head of the Jews in that town, Zwerling, was a horse salesman. At that time, Jews from Brzezany and its surrounding areas were seized for transportation to work camps in Germany. Shalom Zwerling happened to be in the market square in town and saw the trucks loaded with people guarded by SS soldiers. The truck stopped or maybe he stopped it. In any case, he approached the SS man and asked: How much for the “merchandise”?

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He replied with a question: “Do you want to buy?”

“Yes.” So the SS man named a price, Zwerling agreed and said “Let me have them!” The Jews came down from the truck and were surrounded by the Jewish police, the money was paid and the Germans went away...... He immediately phoned the surrounding communities, people arrived and took their members home.

Shalom Zwerling realized that the situation worsened and the Jews were about to be deported from Pomerzany and he could no longer help. He decided to escape to Hungary. After he reached Hungary someone denounced him. He was taken back across the frontier to Zborow camp where he was shot by the Germans.

I want to praise the Catholic priest in Zborow. He was Polish and very friendly with Jews. He knew all the surviving Jews and where they hid. He issued many Aryan papers for the escapees and thus saved them. A Jew, Leib Kronisch, was hiding with a religious Christian. He suddenly became very afraid because he was hiding a Jew. He went to confess to the priest, but not knowing what to say, he kept quiet. The priest asked: “Are you anxious? Are you hiding Jews?” The Christian answered: “Yes.” The priest replied: “Continue to hide them. Don't be afraid, give them food and drink, but if you become afraid again come to me.”

In fact this Christian hid Jews till the liberation...

After leaving the bunker and on my way to Tarnopol, I met the priest. He was the only one to remain in the city when it was emptied. He asked if I knew who survived. I told him that I knew who went into hiding but not who survived. Much later, after I left Zborow and arrived in Opola, a Polish village, I again met the priest. When I told him that I was going to Krakow, he asked me to deliver a letter to his good friend. Upon reaching Krakow, I immediately looked for the address he gave me. I recognized the young man who opened the door. During the Russian occupation, he lived in my sister's house and was a nurse in the hospital. When the Germans entered the hospital, they asked if there were Jews and the workers said no. He (the young man) looked Christian and his Polish accent was perfect so the Germans never suspected him. The priest then gave him Aryan papers and he left for Krakow. There he married a Christian woman. He also recognized me immediately but we both pretended that we did not know each other. When he went to accompany me he told me his story....

The story pleased me very much so when I met the priest later I began to laugh. When he asked me why I said: You could have told me earlier...

The priest answered: “No. absolutely no. I issued thousand papers to Jews but I will not tell you the name of even one. You recognized the man and he told you his story-so be it, it's your business....”

After we were liberated, I started looking for the evil Janek who had helped the Germans to find the bunker near Schwab's house. They blew it up and murdered Dolik Raufogel. But I could not find him (Janek) since he had left Zborow. The NKVD police knew that we were looking for him. Once going through the village they ran into him. They were chasing Banderovtzim [?] in the area and therefore left him in the house, pretending that they did not know who he was. But when they returned they entered the house and arrested him.

When they told me the news of Janek's capture, I did not quite believe it. I asked the NKVD commander about it and he replied “They say it's Janek. If you want we can bring him and you can decide if you recognize him. “

[Page 48]

When they brought him, I recognized him right away. The commander asked him, in my presence, if he knew me but he denied it. Then the commander whether, perhaps, there is someone else who knew him. I brought Wladek, who had hidden us, who also stated that he knew him and that he had committed many crimes and he had found the bunker, I added there were many weapons in the bunker and that Janek gave these to the Banderovitzim after the bunker was blown up. I also found out that this Janek took Schwab's child three times to the police. But the child managed to escape each time since, being a child, he was not guarded. When Janek told the policeman to shoot him, little Schwab managed to escape.

I found the child and brought him to the NKVD. The child was 10 or 11 and when Janek came in the kid burst into tears and said- “yes, yes he is the one who took me.”

After that, I became the child's guardian, so that every time we attended an inquiry, we went together.

After I left Zborow, I received a letter telling me the Janek had been sentenced to many years in prison.

Finding Kratsotski who came to Wladek's house to wash his blood-stained hands having murdered two Jews was harder... Seeing this devil walking around freely affected my health and my life especially after I heard Wladek tell what he had done.

I went to the Russian authorities, but they refused to act. I was friendly with the prosecutor and turned to him, and he stated that he would be eliminated eventually. But in the meantime, nothing happened. This Devil took part in the hunt for the Banderovtzim [?] and the Russians allowed him to be free...

I had a friend in the “Vincomt(?)” who was an upper rank officer with an important role. Before leaving and parting from him, I told him that I was leaving the town with bitter feelings and told him the Kratsotski story. The officer told me: “If proof and witnesses are found, I will arrest him immediately. About 15 minutes after he left my place, I looked out the window. He had the fellow under arrest and turned him over to the NKVD. The officer came back: “The guy is caught. If you had told me about him earlier, I could have caught him a long time ago. In any case he is out of circulation.”

That night both of us-Wladek Leshtinski and I-testified, and after my departure I received the news-he was sentenced to 20 years in prison.

Finally, I want to tell what happened to Dr Boyko and the Ukrainian priest. After the liberation, the priest and his son went for a ride in a horse-drawn buggy. When they reached the edge of town, they saw a fountain pen on the ground. The son got off and picked up the pen. It exploded and tore him apart. The priest was not hurt but he ran away after the defeat of the Germans and he was never found. As to Dr. Boyko-he came down with typhus. Typhus patients were hospitalized in a Polish school and he died there. The Germans would not give the satisfaction to their Jewish forced workers to remove him for burial and no gentile wanted to do it. So the body lay on the bed for three days until finally they had to use the Jews to bury him. That was the end of the two tyrants who advised the Germans, upon entering our town, to exterminate all the Jews.

I remained with the Russians for about a year after the liberation. I went from Zborow to Krakow. When I got there, I found out that the anti-Semitism was rampant. In the evening, when I reached one of my acquaintances–Weinberg

[Page 49]

who now lived in Krakow told me: “Listen, Fuhrman, do not speak Yiddish in the streets.”

“What? I survived the Hitler time but I cannot speak Yiddish in Poland and in Krakow yet, a quintessential Jewish town?” “That's the way it is” he answered.

“ if so” I said. “I won't stay long in Krakow. If I am not allowed to speak Yiddish now-I am getting out of here.”

Five weeks after leaving Krakow, I reached Austria. It was a short trip. After two and a half months I arrived in Eretz on November 9 1945.

In the Monastery (upper left image) where Father Pavlitski Hid Jews from Our Town

The Court [Page 50]

The Memorial in Israel, 1952 Standing: Adyk Silberman, Natali Katz, Ha Sofer, R'Binyamin, Zelig Yaron (Jaeger), Gershon Schneider, Arye Rotem [Page 64]

[Page 65 -Hebrew] [Pages 69-74 – Yiddish]

I was brought to the labor camp by three Ukrainian policemen. I left home before they arrived because I heard that my cousin Joseph Diamond had been arrested and that they were looking for me. But when I was standing behind a neighbor's house, trying to hide from them, I overheard one of the officers saying that if they do not find Mauerstein they will arrest his entire family [David was married and had two little girls and a large extended family). Upon hearing that I gave myself up and was taken to the labor camp together with my cousin Joseph Diamond and Hersh Frankel from Kudobince.

Railway Station Platform in Zborow

[Page 66]

As we were walking to the camp the policemen were beating us up, by the time we arrived at the camp we could hardly walk. When we arrived, we saw the camp commander, Klaus, SS. They started to interrogate us about our past. At the end of the interrogation Klaus called a Ukrainian policeman and ordered him to make us lay down on our stomachs and gave us each 25 lashes with a whip. The policeman did it with a lot of enthusiasm to the point where we all passed out. They poured cold buckets of water on us to wake us up. This was our welcome to the labor camp.

The camp was relatively new. It was built by the Russians when they built a highway alongside the camp. The barracks remained. At first, there were 11 Jews in the camp. We were told to get the place ready for more Jews to arrive. Each barrack had 6-8 rooms and held about 50 people. Eventually, there were about 500 Jews that included those brought over from Zloczow and Lvov.

The camp in Zborow was on a lot that was called “Marchuk.” In the camp, Szulim Katz and I had various yard jobs such as fetching water from the well and chopping wood. One day while we were chopping wood Szulim Katz lit a cigarette and we chatted briefly. At that moment, the new head of the camp came up behind us. His name was Fuchs, a giant of a man. He was about two meters [79 inches] tall, almost seven feet. He hit me with a rubber mallet. I dropped to the ground and I thought I was a goner. I blacked out. He ordered someone to pour cold water on me, then he tried to revive me, pushing me and yelling “wake up you weak Jew!”

Refugees who were brought to the camp were half-naked and barefoot. Most of them had never done physical labor. The food was horrible. In the morning we used to make soup from leaves' waste and we used to get 50 grams [1.8 ounces] of bread and something that resembled black coffee and sugar. This was supposed to keep us going for a full day of physical labor. We worked in a quarry on the road between Zloczow and Tarnopol. Every morning about 300-400 people left the camp to go work in the quarry. At the end of the day 50-60 people were missing. We felt dehumanized. This routine continued for awhile.

I worked in this camp for two years. One day there was a rumor that the Germans had liquidated the camp in Kazimirovka and we thought that the Germans would also liquidate our camp. One day the commander of our camp told us that we were not going to work that day. I noticed that the camp had been surrounded by triple barbed wire and that the Germans had reinforced the number of guards. I did not like what I saw and I told my friend Sigmund Appel [Apfel] “The Germans are planning something, we should try to escape at night!” Nearby where I was working, there was a toilet next to the barbed wire fence. I went over there with a pair of scissors I had. I cut the wire and then I connected it back together so it was not noticeable. My idea was to run away into the woods near Prosowce [Zbaraz]. My brother Israel Mauerstein was there with some other Jews that had escaped from camps nearby. Sigmund and I agreed to try and escape at midnight. We agreed that I would get out first and if all was well, I would give him a signal by coughing and then he would come and join me.

And this is the story of our escape from the camp [during 1943].

We were sitting there, Appel [Apfel] and myself, waiting for midnight to arrive. But it was already after midnight and the guards were still up and there was no way to escape when the guards were up. Suddenly I heard the guards talking to each other: “Tonight no one will try to escape because they know that the number of guards has been reinforced, so let's smoke a cigarette and relax.”

When I saw the guards sitting down and smoking a cigarette I got up and ran with Appel [Apfel] following me. When the guards saw us, they started to shoot at us. On one of the little hills outside the camp there was a guard post with guard dogs. When they heard the shooting, one of them turned on the light projector and it lit up the whole area. But we were able to hide between some rocks along the Strypa River. After a few minutes of not breathing, we heard the guard that was operating the light projector say, “Let's not make a big deal for one Jew, we have plenty more left.”

[Page 67]

In the dark of the night, we crossed the river and went toward a village called Mlynowce. [David's grandfather, Joseph Mauerstein and his wife Malke Altstock Mauerstein, had lived in that village. David's father, Markus Mauerstein and his wife Taube Buchwald Mauerstein lived in that village as well. David and his five siblings grew up in this village.]

In this village there was a Christian man by the name Miller and we were friends. Upon the Germans' arrival in town, I gave him all of my belongings. When we got to his place at night, we did not want to wake him up so we went up to the barn loft and spent the night there. At dawn, we saw Miller's wife going to milk the cow. We came down from the loft and I told her I was there with a friend and that we had to run away quickly. I asked her to prepare some food that we could take with us. She was very surprised but she understood what we wanted. We were very, very hungry. She and her husband made breakfast for us. We had a big breakfast and she prepared food to take with us.

At about 7:00 or 8:00 am in the morning we came to the bridge near Mlynowce. Over there, we saw a German guard but we were able to slip away. When we got to the main road, there were a lot of military vehicles. We hid on the side of the road and at about 3:00 pm in the afternoon, we crossed the road and went into the woods where we hid until it got dark. At night, we started to go look for groups of Jews who were hiding in the woods. We heard a voice calling the name Yankel or Yakov. We started to run toward the voice and met a man who took us to the place where we found a group of Jews hiding. There were 15 people there including my brother Israel. The forest where the group was hiding was too small. Also, many of the local farmers would be walking around there. With the guidance of one of the local farmers we went to another wooded area called Pomorzany woods. We stayed there until we heard the sound of battle that was coming closer to us.

In the summer, it was much easier to survive than in the winter [maybe the summer of 1943]. Because we would eat what was growing in the woods, but in the winter, it was cold and we were hungry all of the time. Each one who had some money put it into a common piggy bank and with that money we bought food for the group from local farmers. When we ran out of money, people started on their own to walk into the villages to try and get some food. In most cases, they were caught and killed…until only six of us were left.

As the Russians started to come closer to Tarnopol, the local resistance fighters started to be more aggressive. In turn, the Germans started to more aggressively patrol the woods to find these pockets of resistance. [Probably, the first half of 1944. Zborow was liberated by the Soviets on June 22, 1944.]

During one of these German raids, my brother Israel was shot and wounded (in the windpipe; he was wounded a number of times including shrapnel wounds) in a number of places during his time in the woods).

There was no doctor. At night we went into a village named Wicyn [Zloczow]. There was a Jewish doctor in hiding using false Aryan documents. After begging the doctor, the doctor agreed to come to the woods to give my brother first aid. To make sure my brother was going to heal, we had to hide him with one of the local farmers that I knew. He started to improve, however one day, the police (not sure which police, Polish? Ukrainian?) came and took him and two more Jews that were hiding in the village. They took them to the jail house in Zloczow. One night after two weeks in jail, they all escaped. My brother came back to the woods. The other two were shot on their way to the village. In the woods, there were only four people left. We were very hungry and every so often, we had to go to the village to find food even though it was gambling with our lives. I worked for some farmers I knew and they paid me with potatoes and other food. But doing this was risking our lives.

One morning when I walked away about 50 meters [165 feet] from the forest, I saw two SS men. They yelled at me: “Hande hoch” [Hands Up]. They wanted me to identify myself. When I replied in Polish telling them that I had no ID, they ordered me to go with them.

[Page 68]

I was taken to a house. There were about 20 people-most of them were gentiles and a few Jews that I did not know. The Gentiles were from the village and they knew me. But because they were in trouble, too, they were friendly to me and shared some of their food with me. One of them told me “stay with us, maybe it will save you.” After awhile, the Germans took us to a school in the village where there were about 200 people and they started to document each one with the intention of sending them to Germany.

I was at a loss because I did not have any documents. I did not know what to do. While I was pondering this, I saw a farmer that I knew very well. He was the head of a village when the Russians had occupied that village in 1939. He told me that he could get me out of there. But outside there are a bunch of people from the AK [extreme Polish right]. He gave me an ID card. I was now Stanislav Tchaikovsky. He told me that I was born in Wicyn, my father was Andzi and my mother was Anna. He wanted me to memorize that information and he gave me the card.

I was registered with some other people and they took us to a saw mill in Dunajow (Ukraine), a place I wish I had not been sent to. I saw many Ukrainian murderers there and people who handed over Jews to the Nazis; who were responsible for so very many Jews losing their lives.

I covered my head with a rag so I would not be recognized. But one of them (his name was Kaminsky Miprosovich) approached me and said, “I know you and I know who you are, but I will save you; I will not cause you any problems. We are being transferred to Germany. You come with me and you are 100 percent safe.”

We were taken to Germany to a large arena called Donev near the French border. They gave us a place to shower and a change of underwear. For me it was just in time because for the last three years I had hardly showered. My clothes and shoes were torn.

Our next stop was an employment office that was providing workers to the local German farmers whose children were serving in the army. I was working with a Ukrainian prisoner in a farm where we stayed until the end of 1944 when we were released.

At the time, a war refugee camp was set up in Griesheim. It housed foreign refugees. From this camp, many were sent home and many to other countries. I stayed in Griesheim for about six months.

While I was there I did not hear anything about my brother, who was left in the woods, or any other relatives who may have survived. So, I decided to go to Poland to look for relatives. I had a returning citizen certificate for two months. That gave me permission to go to Poland. When I arrived, I visited all the places where Jews stayed in Poland and looked for any of my relatives, but I did not find any.

One time when I was on a train to Wroclaw, one of the conductors was from my town. When he saw me, he told me that my brother told him that the Germans told my brother that I, David, was captured and killed. The conductor did not know what happened to my brother.

The conductor gave me the addresses of some people who lived in a town called Opole; “they would know where your brother is.” So, I went to Opole. There I found out that my brother had left for Italy. I got the address in Italy from a friend of mine who thought he knew where my brother was and he was right. That is how we met again.

I stayed in Poland and settled in a town called Leignitz in lower Silesia. I lived there until the pogrom in 1946. This pogrom was an eye opener for me. If after such a horrible Holocaust a pogrom can happen then it is prohibitive to stay in a place like this with a society like this. Although I was working and earning a living, I decided to leave Poland. But I could not leave Poland legally. So, I ran away but was captured and arrested at the Polish border. I was jailed and when I left the jail I managed to escape to Czechoslovakia. From there, I succeeded in getting to Austria and from there to Italy. That is where I met my brother. [Trani camp.] At the end of 1949, I emigrated to Israel.

Lighting of Memorial Candles by Sh. Schechter, B. Sperling, Y. Tenenbaum, M. Orhan, M. Shapira, and Sh. Silberman in Memory of the Six Million Jews Who Perished in the Shoah, during the Memorial Service for the Martyrs of Zborow and Surrounding Areas that Took Place on the 20th of Tammuz, July 13, 1971, in Tel Aviv. The Speakers: A. Silberman Reading the Prayers. Chazzan S. Schechter from NY.

Standing While Reciting Yizkor Prayers for the Martyrs of Zborow and Surrounding Areas

[Page 84 - Yiddish] [Pages 75-84 - Hebrew]

Editor's Notes 1st Aktion July 4, 1941 2nd Aktion August 29, 1942 3rd Aktion April 9, 1943 4th Aktion June 5, 1943 These are letters from the Zborow ghetto to a member of the Jewish Brigade, a prisoner of war in Germany. Written to Emil Brumer, of blessed memory, mostly, by his fiancee, Ida Berger, may God avenge her blood, and a few from his mother and sister of blessed memory. In addition, his cousin, a very young Sabina Fuchs Schweid, wrote him two letters. Sabina survived the war and wrote an autobiography. Ida Berger is listed in the Zborow necrology without a date of death. Her last letter was dated May 31, 1943, right before the 4th and final Aktion. Emil survived the war and emigrated to Israel. Because he was part of the British POWs, he was not tortured and killed like other Jewish POWS would have been. The Nazis seemed to make this distinction; so where he was detained saved his life. Editor's Note: It is amazing to note that letters seemed to be sent and delivered despite the realities of the war being fiercely fought. [The photo to be used here on page 84 is the one from page 75 of the Yizkor book. There are two versions of the story, one that starts on page 75 and one that starts on page 84. We translated the article from Yiddish, which starts on p. 84, but it did not include this photo]

Ida Berger [Page 75]

January 17, 1942

With us, everything, thank God, is all right. So far, I am still at home. Next week I have been ordered to report to “camp,” where I will work in the tailor shop with 6 other women. My sewing machine will come with me. We will be given housing-out of the “neighborhood”-where we are to stay nights, too. I don't know if it's good or bad. I hope for God's help. It's high time for a bit of good to come my way.

The winter pelts us with freezing cold and raging snow, and I sit home all day, warming by the stove. I ordered a pair of “Eskimos” (winter boots) for myself-they cost 500 zlotys. It' a lot of money, but what do I need money for?

Our only wish now is to live! Those who have lost their dear ones are living it up-they get drunk, they play cards-in a word-they try to get some joy while they can. Life is short and must be lived to the end. Maybe they are right. I don't go to see anyone and avoid meeting acquaintances because I am broken and crushed. I hear that Ch. and T. cavort with the police all night long-this is what they have come to!

[Page 85]

February 8, 1942

We have no need for money. We sell everything we have, with no regard for tomorrow. Death is never far. But I do not fear it. I would just like to see you again before it comes. In spite of everything, I live with the hope that we will yet see each other again. What do you think?

I am writing to you on the eve of Passover. I haven't written in 2 weeks. I was sick, injured in a bomb explosion. Now I am recovered.

… And now, something you can actually do. We are all trying to get work and you can help me. Y. is the “boss” here with the Jews and has great influence. It is in his hands for me to get work. I ask you to please write to him right away about this. It is very urgent for me.

A “typhus epidemic” is about to break out. Everyone's life is threatened … do you understand!?

… I have news for you! Two weeks ago we got, through the “Red Cross” word from our people in Jerusalem-they are alive and are waiting to hear from us. But how far they are from us!!!

I often think: Why write? By the time the letter reaches you, who knows if I'll be alive? I am now working in the communal kitchen from 7 in the morning to 6 in the evening. It reminds me of how you used to laugh and joke that I can't cook. Now I have practice-may I be granted a chance to use it.

Today is a year since the war began. Neither you nor I believed that we would survive the year.

For us here things are “hopping”… and we await a big “celebration.” I am working very hard and have not even one day off, but I am not unhappy-it is very hard to get work.

Thank God, I still have what to eat. There are those who hunger. We sell everything we can in order to sustain ourselves. We live for today, with no thought for tomorrow.

It is now Friday night. I stand in the kitchen and think of you.

Forgive me for writing on this card. Here even a regular postcard is hard to come by.

[Page 86]

August 23, 1942

A great storm awaits us. It has raged through many towns and crushed many branches, old and young. Our turn too has come. If you do not hear from me again, know that I am no longer in Zborow-that I am in a place from where no one ever returns. What can we do? We have to make peace with it… There, at least, I will reunite with my father and brother… it's all a matter of fate. If I'm still here, I'll write to you. In the meantime, keep healthy and strong. I have already made my peace with how it is. Maybe God will come to my aid at the last minute. If you still believe in God, pray to Him, maybe He'll help me, maybe He'll listen to your prayers.

As you know, I am ill. Maybe I can be healed by the renowned doctor “Keller” [Cellar]… I'm sure you've heard of him…He is quite popular among us…It is so hard for me to say good bye! The letters dance before my eyes. It is hard for me to organize my thoughts. I thought that our parting would be different … Tears block my eyes and I can't find the right words. I never imagined I would have to leave my home like my father and brother and follow in their tracks… think about it and you'll understand! I feel lighter now that I've said good bye to you, good bye forever…!

I write because I have to write…Last week I wrote to you and said my good bye. I thought my end had come… but fate intervened. They took my mother, my sister and her children. I remained alone, imagine it! All alone in the house. Four days have passed and I sit here alone and don't know what to do with myself. You, my only one, are all I have left. As to how I was saved, I'll write you next time… I don't have the strength to even think about it.

The days pass, with no work, no one to speak to…Somehow I remember that you exist somewhere and at least I can talk to you. You received my letters; you know what this is about. You also know how my life changed.

That Sabbath, August 29, there was a big “celebration” here. Everybody was invited. Only half showed up, among them my whole family and me, as well as my sister from Tarnopol and her little son Zishku. If you only knew what a child he was! Said to be the most beautiful child in town. In April, he had just turned 4…

I had a premonition that to me nothing would happen.

[Page 87]

After waiting several hours with my family, I am approached by one of the murderers. He calls me over and says that such a pretty young girl shouldn't be here, such a shame.

They chose a few more young girls: Sh. Ohrenstein, M. Taffet and several others, and pulled us aside. For the third time, I luck intervened, and I was saved from the “wedding.”… Who knows if my luck will hold next time…

We witnessed the entire “procession,” headed by my mother, her sister and her child. My eyes followed them until they disappeared. You know the place behind Adlers' lumber yard. Most of the “guests” were loaded onto trucks, some were “finished off” on the spot, and those of us who remained, were taken to work on the road. We worked a few days and then set free. But I want to work. I have to work.

I will never forget that terrorizing image. No painter could paint it and no writer could put it into words!

The entire aristocracy of the town was among the “guests,” all of its young. It doesn't make any sense to list their names…

Maybe Emil could find a way to come up with papers [documents] for me to travel to you; think about it.

I roam about the house alone, staring at what is still here, touching the toys left by Zishke, my heart breaking, my thoughts adrift…

You must be thinking I've lost it.

My head is in a fog and I don't even know if I can write anything anymore.

I hope that you got my letters. I think they were clear enough for you to understand my situation. I have been left all alone in the world and have nothing else to lose.

Since we are expecting last month's Aktion to reoccur, I've decided to write you again. Maybe it is possible for “Emil” knows someone who can come up with a way for “Bazilike” (the writer of the letter) to travel. Tell him that she can't stay here any longer! It's the only thing you can do for her. It has to happen as soon as possible, or it will be too late..!

Not many Jews are left in town; most have been fallen to their gruesome fate. Of the young, only very few are left. The women color their hair blond. Why – you'll understand yourself… As for me, I don't believe I'll ever recover. It looks as if I will have to stay here and wait for what fate brings my way…

I long so for my dear ones, who are no longer alive!

[Page 88]

My thoughts whirl around in my head. I loved my mother so much and our bond was so strong! And that little Zishke, I practically deified him. When I see his things I can't find a place for myself. How harshly God has punished me! For what? Have I sinned that greatly..?

I am now in Pomorzany. A “wedding” is coming up and since I don't want to be part of it, I left town. I've already written you about this kind of “wedding…”

When I return, many of those I know will no longer be there. I know they will have gone.

Passing by Lemberg, I remembered that you are alive and need to hear from me. I am healthy and feel not too bad. I take back everything I wrote you in my previous letter. I am alive and believe we will see each other again. As for the rest, think about it. For now I am living with Kazie, widow of Arnold P. (the one you used to call “Red Pepper”). We get along well and often reminisce about the old days. We live much like students, sleeping late because our room is freezing cold. We will be starting to work soon so our situation will improve. You always asked about Lachmoskin[?]. Sadly, we miss him greatly now.

… As you see, I am on the road much of the time. I was in Pomorzany and am moving on. I will keep writing to your previous address. I have to stop now, because I am very cold. I am wrapped in a coat and hat. I would wear gloves if I could write in them. Kazie will be here soon and she will warm up the coffee and we will go to sleep.

If you received my last letter you know that I am on the way to Lemberg and will be going on from there. My room is unheated. For now, we still have a little food, and when that ends we will move on to a new work place… I am writing to you out of boredom. It is night time and I soon I will go to sleep. Feeling a need to talk and not having anyone, I remember that you still exist. I will write you a little about my room. It is small, whitewashed and clean. There are two iron beds. In one of which I sleep with my girlfriend. At night, we're constantly up pulling up the blanket, which keeps slipping off. We have a table but no chairs, so I sit on the bed, but we're grateful to God for what we have…

Kazie is making us dish of corn meal and honey. I am learning to cook from her. By the time we meet again, I will for sure know how to cook, the rest you will teach me, no?

[Page 89]

December 14, 1942

Just this week, the letter I wrote you on January 16th was returned to me. For a year the letter has wandered around until it came back to me. When I wrote it, I was still with my dear ones. I would give anything to be back in those days, when a child stood at my side, asking me to show him a picture, and now… no, I will never forget it. Since that time I feel hate towards children. I can't look at them–and you know how much I used to love children!..

You ask if there has been any change here. Sadly, our lot is much worse now than it was. I am alone and lonely all day long, with no rescuer, no redeemer. What will be next–I don't know. The important thing is that I am healthy. I remembered that next month will be my 25th birthday. Maybe it will be a happier year? Maybe there will still be good?

You must have wondered, reading my previous letters, but I am sure you understood them.

For now, I am back home, and I don't feel bad because home is still home, even though no one I loved is there.

You write that you think of revenge. I hope that you have in mind will one day come to be. That is the only thing I ask for…

Here, the “weather” is quite nice, that is, for now. The truth is that when I wrote to you last we didn't think the “weather” would stay this nice… As for me-so far we know nothing. I am at home. The nights are long winter nights and I think and think of all those who once were and are no more. And also of you, my one and only, the last I have left…

Mrs. Zimmer has asked that you find out from Rivka about Manya and let her know that her family is all right. Can she write to you?

About me, I can report that I was sick for a week. I had fever and we thought it was typhus, as it is running rampant in town and anyone who sick with fever is assumed to be having it. In my case, thank God, it was just a cold.

I don't meet with people. I am careful and avoid infection. Maybe that's why I didn't get it. Many are now dying of it. Yesterday it was Duniev Schwebel, Aizev Linder, and many, m any more tailor shop. There are no happy occasions here, and God has seen fit to send us yet another plague, the epidemic. The death rate has reached 50 percent. Whoever is spared by the murderers is struck by the disease. Duniev remained conscious until the last minute.

[Page 90]

He knew he was dying and he begged to be saved. He was such a dear young man! He believed that after all the hardships and trials he would finally live to see the land of which he dreamt all his life. It was a great loss to us, but who thinks of one death these days, when just about everyone has lost their nearest and dearest… We here are no more than animals with one thought in mind, to survive.

“Live and survive.”

I often regret that I didn't get taken with my mother and sister. What meaning does my life have now, alone and forlorn. You mention in your letter that you get good news from Palestine. We know that too, but sadly, it is no help to us.

I am now in the work “camp.” I work with 6 other women in the tailor shop. It is not bad here. We have a nice room. We work all day, mending what needs to be mended…

Herman SH, asks that you let him know Aydek's whereabouts–You must know him.

I already wrote you that I work in the tailor shop. We sleep there too. I sleep next to my sister (Schwab?) and Sh. Ohrenstein. I had a mishap this week–I lost my watch. It was a beautiful watch, worth 1,000 zlotys. In these times, that means nothing, but it was a gift from my beloved brother.

I am faithful to you, but sometimes I think: is it worth it? Am I doing the right thing? These days, girls think very differently. You wouldn't believe how they behave!

H. Shapira is here now, regaling us with his jokes and lifting our spirits a bit.

Munye Fuchs, who battled typhus for 14 days, died today. Such a good young man, and now he is no more. Maybe they are right who say let's just forget everything and live, live.

Now, something important. There was another “wedding” here, which many of our friends “attended.” I did not attend, as I was at working at the camp. I work all day in the tailor shop. We get an hour off at mid-day, which we use to cook something. This is how it is for us! We live and we stop living…

[Page 91]

I haven't written all this time because I was preparing for the “wedding,” which, as God willed, I ended up not attending. It was a big “celebration”–there hasn't been such a one since my girlfriends' “weddings.”

I have asked you several times already to write me at Jankevitch's address. It's the only way I will get any letters because I cannot leave the ghetto. Things for me are, thank God, not bad. There is much work. We work from 7 in the morning until 1 and then from 2 to 6, so I am busy all day long. Today I have a day off (once every two weeks) and will take care of a few things. First I will wash my hair; then I will cook and write.

… I can report that I found my watch. It was at K.'s. She simply stole it. It's not to be believed that she is capable of such a thing. What matters is I have my watch back, enough for now. Preparations are being made here again and we are worried…you will certainly understand why…

I am still in the camp. My situation is not bad. We work and are content. Someone asked me to inquire if you happened to have run into his brother. His name is S.G. Madenow.Please answer because he supplies me with postcards, which are hard to get here.

February 4, 1942

You are naturally worried about the fate of your father. After the 4th of July they took him to work and since then he hasn't returned. Many are now in the labor camps. Maybe he is among them. We hope he will come back…

Our situation compared to others is not bad. We are living in our house, have sold bit by bit what we could and time goes on… ever since they took father I haven't picked up the fiddle. But better not to think about that because the wound is too fresh.

Y. is the head of the community and I work as his secretary. I get bread and sometimes get a bit of pay. Dalek is in labor camp and is unfortunately sick with typhus…

[Page 92]

April 13, 1942

Three years ago you were on your way to reaching your long awaited goal. Since that time you've gone through a lot and so did we, and now who know what is in store for us. For your birthday I wish you strength and resolve. May the war end and may our hopes come to be.

We sold our dining room yesterday, not out of need. It is just not advisable to have something of value in the house. Also, the community needed it and in Zborow, it is difficult to come by. It was a bit unpleasant for us, but the devil with it! These days it doesn't matter. What matters is that we are alive and healthy.

…It is hard for me to write. I have already lost my patience. As you see, we live on. How is not important. What counts is that we live…

It is the month of May. It's still cool but the garden has awakened from its winter sleep...Your chestnut tree is lovely and almost 5 meters tall…

A neighbor has moved in to our cellar. He pays nothing and doesn't even say hello. Our home has become a house that serves different needs. Sometimes it's a school, sometimes a private residence, and I am like a ship without a rudder, in mid sea...

For us, there is no news, and that in itself is a lot. Let them just leave us alone. There is work for the men as well as for the women, and that is important. I work in the communal kitchen, a relatively easy job–proteksye [political pull]. Pak is now “king” and is turning out to be quite efficient and reasonable at it. You can be proud of him...

Our town is “cleansed” every day. “Pak” and Y are still at their jobs. I don't know if it does any good. I n any case, we are very worried about them...

What else can I write? You already know there are no good tidings. Our hope is that we get to live as human beings and be together again...

At this point, the only issue is how to stay alive and who will survive. Each one of us hopes to be one of those fated to stay alive. Not a few of us go to sleep at night not knowing if it our last.

What we have been through is hard to describe and maybe there is no need to...

[Page 93]

July 27, 1942

We are very happy to hear that you are full hope and have faith in the future. Sadly, for us such moments are scarce. We are by now used to our situation. These days it seems laughable that once murders were brought to trial and reported on by newspapers. Nowadays when a person does it is just one less person... We live our days in great danger and mortal fear...

Soon we will have to leave our home. It's hard, but this too doesn't matter...

Pak is now a very important person and has no time to write to anyone...No, I'm not making fun; he really doesn't have any time. He has to worry about all of us, the whole town. I have toad, that he is very good at it. Still I pray that the work will end and we'll all go back be what we were, but I don't know if you understand me, but it doesn't n matter.

The important thing is that we're still alive and healthy. What comes next, I don't know... Life streams by quickly and stressfully. Dear brother! Who knows if we'll see each other again. Come what may, remember us and think of us. I can't write any more. The tears blot out my words.

I can report that for now we are still alive. Maybe we'll live to see each other again - there'll be a lot to tell... I am now working as a maid for a German family. It is good for me here, and, most important, I have a little peace. Not knowing our living conditions, you will find it hard to grasp what is happening here.

I'm sure you've gotten word of what happened with Ls. and M. That's how it is...

In two days it will already be 1943 and the war has lasted since 1939. How much we have endured and for how much longer? Sometimes my life is so bad, I tire of it. But then, in spite of everything, the will to live prevails, to feel joy with the children.

Romer happened to have been there when the mail arrived and heard that you got word from Gershon, Rivka, and others. I was in Lemberg for a few weeks and have returned.

Dear brother, as you know I have been working as a cook for the head of the labor camp. I have no complaints.

[Page 94]

Dear brother! I want very much to see you, but I don't know if we can make it happen. I don't have to tell you how hard we are trying... There is much, very much, to tell but to write of it all is impossible. I was at I.'s [Ida's] today. She is truly an honest, honorable person. I'm making a point because everyone here is terribly demoralized–“Sodom and Gomorrah”–but what can we do–it is a result of the war and the situation.

Last week I wrote to you that a storm is approaching that will be disastrous for the old and the young, and so I found a safer place to live. I ask myself: why even bother? Is it worth all the trouble?

I had good times. It was a beautiful dream, but the future is a rainy autumn day–no sun or light. All I have is the hope to see my children...

I have no news. I live as if in a summer place. I eat and drink. I knit and try not to think. It's not the worst thing. (I already know what is worse!) But still bad enough. I so want to live to see peace, and then? A big question mark. But the future doesn't scare me. The thing is to stay alive.

Tomorrow it will be 4 years since I accompanied you to Lemberg. And what we have gone through since! It has now been 5 weeks that I am here and have no news of what is happening in town. The weather is a bit milder so I will try to make my way there for a day or two...

I am very lucky I can write you to ... Last Friday there was a thorough “cleansing.” Our father's factory operated at full steam. About 1,500 pairs of shoes (mostly women's and children's) were liquidated. In Zloczow, it was the same. We were spared by a miracle from heaven. Y. saved us all. For your birthday, may God grant that your and our hopes come true.

Today is your 26th birthday. It is 4 years since you set foot in the Holy Land. I think of everything we have been through, all of us together and each of us separately. I pray to God to save us and for us to see each other again.

[Page 95]

In April, there was a big storm here that tore up old and young trees by their roots. The same happened in Zloczow. Leaden clouds are rolling toward us and we expect a monstrous storm...

We are healthy... write to the address of Julka Ciurkowa, who is a friend of Janek's.

This week a terrifying storm raged through and destroyed the entire town. Only those who were in “storm shelters” were spared. The same kind of storm hit Zloczow a few weeks ago. No news from us, let it only not get any worse till the end of the war...

It seems you understand our situation. We are walking on thin ice. It is clear that the concept of “to be or not to be” has no meaning here. Here it takes courage, patience, and above all, luck. We live on hope, and that keeps us going.

We cannot write you about friends because we don't know who is left. Of our relatives no one is left except us and B. and M., who are now staying with us, and we are all on Jankek's shoulders. In these times one has to stay strong and strengthen the others. Our house is still intact, but what does it matter now? And what use are money and wealth today? Only as a means of saving one's life.

The main thing, the only thing is that we are alive, which thousands of others cannot say. We are healthy and live in hope...

You must remember, my dearest, that you have to live, live at any price so that you can fulfill your sacred duty, which your father, your grandmother M. and Mo. And “Pakeh” bestowed unto to you. Yes, “Pakeh,” so good and so ill-fated. How he cared for us, how much he did for us. It took heroism, self-sacrifice...and yes, money. And what a despicable way his life ended...

As I end every letter to you, the same foolish thought comes into my head: who knows if this letter is not my last...With all my strength I rid myself of it. Against all odds, to spite our enemies, we will live and survive!

[Page 96]

July 27, 1943

Thank God, all is in order. Only “Peka” is gone. I heard that all the workers are away on “vacation;” as it is such a hot summer, I have no contact with anyone so have nothing to tell.

God is right. Life is a hard battle and the battle is the victory. Of I, we know nothing. If she doesn't write, it means she can't.

With me, all is well. Madame “Salvation” is late in coming and I long for her so...

We are still alive and we are healthy. Hope is the essence of life. But until when? Until when?

A Little Girl Writes [writer is Sabina (Fuchs) Schweid–pp. 131, 165 in her book. She is a cousin of Emil Brumer]

There are lagern (camps) here just for Jews. Some are better, some worse, but there is no lager where you can avoid the fever. Do you have this in your [POW] camp, too? Here, fever is like typhus. They take you to the hospital right away and whoever doesn't have it, gets it there...

I had it too, but rather a mid case. I had 40-degree fever but wasn't delirious. I have forgotten about it now and am immune to the disease. Others came to a worse end...

I have hardly written to you because I don't know what to write. It's always the same. In the morning, we wash up to the sound of Slava bohu [Praise the Lord–greeting upon one's return] signaling us to silence. Then we eat and read if there is anything to read. Then we sleep again and play cards. I'm getting good at “the red king” [card game], solitaire, “21” etc. Everybody plays cards. Sometimes someone becomes angry, but it's better for that kind of thing not to happen... I would like to ask if you still play soccer and if the orchestra you started still exists... And now good night and if there are bed bugs–good night to them too...

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