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With the Beginning of the First World War

by Y. Aryeh Mazeh

Translated by Mira Eckhaus

Edited by Erica S. Goldman-Brodie

When the war broke out at the end of the summer of 1914 and general conscription was announced by the government, many members of the Jewish intelligentsia flocked to the conscription station to volunteer. In many places, and also in the interior of Russia, the number of the patriotic demonstrations of the Jewish residents in favor of the war exceeded the number of the demonstrations of the non-Jews. The Jews waited for an order that would cancel the laws that discriminated against/distinguished between the Jews from the rest of the citizens in Russia. And it is true that in the first period the attitude of the local authorities towards the Jews became much gentler and kinder. In those days I was one of the managers in two banks: People's Bank and Mutual Bank, most of whose members and customers were Jews. With the panic that arose on the occasion of the conscription announcement, the situation of the banks became very bad and the danger of bankruptcy hovered over them, even though they were quite established until then. Without any delay, I contacted the manager of the state bank in the city of Minsk, and after a detailed explanation I got what I asked for. Full help was given to the banks lest they go bankrupt. Sometime later, the manager of the state bank told me that he was reprimanded by the finance minister for giving the banks credit above the allowed rate.

I was urgently required to come to the Central Bank in Petrograd, and since I did not have the right to be outside the settlement area of the Jewish population, I turned to the minister of government - the local police meister - and received from him permission that I was going to the capital city on public affairs, and that the government should make an exception and allow me to stay for a short time in Petrograd. The police meister told me that he is doing something outside of his authority this time and he is sure that the letter will not be useful and I will not accept the right to stay in the capital city.

The war initially had a negative effect on the economic situation of the Jewish residents of the city of Bobruisk. Hundreds of families of artisans were starving for bread. The management of the People's Bank met with the leader of the nobles and unfolded before him the case of the suffering of the masses. One day after this meeting, he himself brought to my office a letter of request to the Director of Supply of Southwest Russia, to give us one hundred thousand meters of fabric for sewing shirts and pants for the army corps at fixed prices. When I approached with the letter, I was accepted as the first. The request was filled out in its entirety and food was obtained for the hungry people. There were many such cases in every city in the area of the Jewish settlement and this was done despite the bad attitude towards the Jews that prevailed in the high command of the army.

Despite all the difficulties of their situation and their suffering, the Jewish residents of Bobruisk (similar to other Jewish cities) helped the Jewish refugees, who were forced to leave their places and wander already in the first months of the war. In the month of Shevat, 1915, a train with two hundred and fifty Jewish refugees passed through Bobruisk. At that time there was already a committee in the city to help the refugees and it was decided that fifty of the refugees passing through Bobruisk would remain in the city, but the people who were sent to carry out the decision took all the two hundred and fifty people off the train and brought them to the city. They stayed in Bobruisk, and with them many other families of refugees without concern for food and clothes.

The state of Zionism was very poor at first: only a few remained loyal to it. Poverty on the one hand and the hope that with the end of the war the Jews in Russia would obtain all the rights - destroyed every good part of the people of Israel.

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Time of Trial

by Lipman Levinson

Translated by Mira Eckhaus

Edited by Erica S. Goldman-Brodie

At the end of March 1915, two days before Passover, I arrived in Bobruisk from Egypt. After the deportation from the country, I stayed a few months in Alexandria. I held the position of head of the “Notrim” in the camp for refugees from Eretz Israel in the Gabari camp. It was like the head of the camp for the internal matters. This was assigned to me on the day of Jabotinsky's sudden resignation from this position, which he himself created. The position was honorable and responsible, but involved strenuous work day and night and full of suffering and hardships. Despite the circumstances and the many efforts of my deputies and the other “Notrim” members, it was very difficult to bring order and discipline in the many hodgepodges of the refugees from the country and the mix of languages, which even Jabotinsky with the authority he had at the time, was unable to control. Meanwhile, the atmosphere became more and more difficult. Arguments abounded, relations between the activists deteriorated and disagreements increased. I felt suffocated and decided to return to Russia. The sea route to Odessa or Trieste was cut off. There was a fear that the land route could also be suddenly cut off due to the state of war. I left for Russia through Greece, Serbia, Bulgaria, Romania. With many hardships and difficulties, I arrived in Romania. At the border I was joined by a large group of Russian peasants and workers, who were called to station themselves for conscription. They put us into two cars and locked us in them. For two days we were not allowed to go out to stock up on food or drink. The indignation was great. The Russians were agitated. When we arrived at the Bucharest station, I stirred up all the gentiles to make noise, smash windows in the car and call the Russian consul or the station manager. This had an effect. A large crowd gathered and two people from each car were allowed to go out and buy food and boiled water. The feeling of suffering, humiliation and insult left a hard impression.

Full of hopes and disappointments I arrived home. It is difficult to describe the joy that was felt at home. As usual in Bobruisk, many people noticed the passenger in the carriage with belongings, and immediately my mother's acquaintances began to come to congratulate the return of the son from afar. Many of my friends and students in Zionism came. The house was bustling until midnight. The night was a sleepless night of conversations. From the conversations, I felt that the situation was bleak. The next day arrived Leib Mazeh came and announced that they want to schedule a meeting with me as soon as possible in which I will give a report on everything I know, and added that Mr. Isaac Estherin and Mr. Yosef Dobkin asked me to approach them. They received me kindly, and Estherin said that he would invite a limited number of people to his house in the evenings of the first days of the holiday. The leaders of Zionism in Bobruisk participated in the meeting. I conveyed the difficult news that had reached Egypt from the country, the oppression of the Turks, the threats of imprisonment and deportation from the country in return of any Zionist action of any kind, as well as the possession of the Jewish National Fund stamps, etc. I also told them about the scarcity and suffering prevailing there and of the dangers hovering over the settlement. I also spoke about the sharp differences of opinion prevailing in Alexandria, Egypt, between the Zionist activists and the strong propaganda of Jabotinsky, Trumpeldor and their friends to enlist in the regiment for war against Turkey, the Zionist's enemy; and that messages are constantly arriving from the Russian Zionist Center opposing any action of this kind, since it endangers the lives of the entire settlement in the Land of Israel, and demands to maintain a line of complete neutrality of the Jewish people during the war between the great powers of the world.

The interest was huge. Those present seem to have forgotten the troubles that threaten everyone in Russia and were concerned about the settlement in Israel. Questions, answers, and again questions and expressing opinions. After midnight, another meeting was scheduled on Hol HaMoed at Mr. Yosef Dobkin's house, and this one was a multi-participant meeting. I noticed that, unfortunately, young people were not invited to the above meetings. In my conversations I learned, to my great regret, that there had been a great disintegration in the groups I managed, some went away, some were drafted into the army, others took upon themselves to help the family during these emergency times. Many stayed away and the remaining would indeed sometimes come to the Zionist Minyan to listen to some conversation, but they did not constitute a balanced force, because no one made an effort to organize them into a cohesive group. The many girls who were in the groups dispersed, because naturally they could not come to the Zionist Minyan, which was officially only a house of prayer. The acute question that arose was how to gather all the scattered members and how, in light of the war conditions, it is possible to reorganize the young people in the Zionist movement.

In the meantime, it became clear to me that the general situation was very difficult.

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The Russian army is suffering defeat after defeat, anti-Semitism is increasing. There is wild incitement among the army. The fears of the Jews are growing day by day. I was invited to visit Rabbi Shapira. He was a great man of Torah, pleasant in manners and a loyal Zionist. Before the start of the World War, I visited Gan Shmuel, I was asked to stay there on Shabbat and talk about the Zionist movement in Russia, about the young people's approach to immigrating to Israel, etc. Before I left, I was offered to take top quality etrogs. I took two and sent them home through acquaintances, who left the country immediately after Austria's declaration of war. The etrogs arrived in Bobruisk close to Rosh Hashanah and my mother gave them to Rabbi Shapira, who greatly appreciated their origin from “Gan Shmuel”. The rabbi received me nicely, he was full of concerns regarding the state of Judaism in Russia and the situation of the Jewish settlement in Israel.

Shortly after Passover, Estherin informed me that the Zionist activists in Minsk had asked that I would come to their city in order to convey them everything I knew about what was happening in Israel and in relation to recruiting for the “regiment”, because the news coming in was fragmented and contradictory. I willingly went and participated in a meeting with the leaders of Zionism in Minsk, which was dedicated to clarify the situation in Israel. In the meetings I had with them after that, I was told about the great concern due to the worsening situation and the lack of clarity from where the help will come. I stayed in Minsk for a few more days and met with several members of my mother's family. Some of them were involved in public affairs and connected with the heads of the Jewish public in St. Petersburg - Vinaver, Seliusberg, Dubnov, Kolisher, etc. One of them returned some time ago from Petersburg and participated in important meetings there. He was very pessimistic. He said, that both the Russian Ministry of the Interior and the military authorities are conducting incitement against the Jews and are trying to blame the military defeats on the Jews' treachery and their aid to the enemy. The main danger was from the army. In the civil government, one could try to fight by publishing facts and with the help of the Russian Douma delegates. But any criticism of the army could have brought about opposite results. The army was headed by the Tsar's uncle, Grand Prince Nikolai Nikolayevich, a firm man with a hard character, and like the Romanovs, he did not like Jews. His headquarters manager, General Yanushkewicz, was a Jew-hater and a well-known oppressor. He and his wife were of Polish origin, and by his hatred of the Jews he tried to prove his patriotism to the Russian homeland. He was ready to arrange military pogroms, but met with opposition because of the bad impression this might have made abroad and among the delegates of the Douma (the Russian parliament).

Yanushkewicz took great pains to spread false stories about Jewish espionage activity for the benefit of the Austrians and Germans, about the signs given by the sudden switching on of lights, by smoke from chimneys, etc. He managed to convince the headquarters that all Jews must be expelled from all places close to the front. According to the instructions of the military command, the Jews were expelled from many areas of Poland without any possessions, and sometimes they were not even provided with train cars and wagons. My relative was pessimistic to such an extent that he said that there was no certainty, in the event of the front approaching, that this would not happen to the Jews of Minsk, Bobruisk, etc. At the same time, he warned me that we must remember the instructions of the lawyer Vinaver - a great personality and multifarious person: it is important to be careful be on guard, but to avoid panic because panic is disastrous.

I returned to Bobruisk with a heavy heart, my desire was to organize the Zionist youth and look for ways to create close relations with the youth in other parties in light of the dangers hanging over us. There were meetings of various public activists which I also attended, but there was no visible way to create a force that could protect us from the army's persecution during the war.

One day I visited the house of Orlov, the chief military pastor at the Bobruisk fortress. For many years I taught his only son. The son was very negligent in his studies at the high school, he had to repeat two classes. He would do trickery in class. Several times he was about to be thrown out of the high school, but his father would appear every time in the teachers' room, talking about the need to forgive and that Jesus took upon himself the sins of the entire world and in the end, he would let everyone kiss the large golden cross, which he received as a special honor. The expulsion from the high school would be canceled, but the son would receive “enough” in behavior, along with all kinds of comments, and in the various subjects he received “insufficient” grades each and every time. Thanks to the recommendation of an army officer, whose son I taught, I was invited to teach the pastor's son. The conditions were excellent. They were ready to pick me up and bring me back in their chariot, and the pay was high. The attitude is very nice, and I also saw it as a challenge, I invested a lot of time, talent and dedication. I found a way to the student's heart and he kept changing for the better. I ignited in him a spark of desire to show

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and succeed and prove his ability. He improved both in studies and behavior. The high school teachers were pleased that there were no more troubles and encouraged him. The joy of the father and mother was endless and they showered me with affection and attention in every way. They did not want to give up my help with his studies and education and I continued there for years. Before my trip to Israel, I received letters of recommendation from the priest to the heads of the Russian clergy in Jerusalem, asking them to help me if I was in any trouble. He also sent them a present and since I was going to return in a few months, I promised to bring an answer. I brought him from the Land of Israel some special cross, a work of art - and in a box some holy thing associated with the Holy Sepulcher. I was received with special cordiality. The conversation lasted for hours and they didn't let me go. Pastor Orlov was an interesting type, a member of a privileged and wealthy family with a glorious military tradition. He had a deep religious conviction and did not want a military career. He studied at the academy and got a position as a military pastor. During the Japanese War, he received many awards for his bravery and excellent service. He was loved by the officers and soldiers alike for his willingness to help and his cordial attitude. He almost certainly did not like Jews, but he did not highlight his attitude to them.

During the conversation he hinted to me that there are bad rumors going around in the army and that there is also resentment among many towards us, the Jews. In order to know his attitude and other opinions, I told him that when I returned home, I was severely affected by the fears of military pogroms. His answer was that he cannot assume and believe that the Russian army will dirty the pure weapon intended for war against the enemy by spilling the blood of honest people, and he can also guarantee that this is not just his opinion. I felt relieved and parted amicably with a promise to visit them soon.

It's been a few weeks. At the beginning of May, on Saturday, early in the morning, I received a telegram. It was the longest telegram I had received up to that point in my life. It was sent to several addresses: to Isaac Estherin, to Benedict Getsov, to me, and to others, signed by several Minsk activists from different circles. The telegram stated: According to the instructions of the military command, all the Jews of the Kovno province are being deported. Men, women, children, babies, without any exception. The deportees were put into closed freight cars.

It is believed that they will be sent to Poltava and Yekaterinoslav provinces. Special freight trains contain tens of thousands of deportees, many did not have time to prepare a sufficient amount of food due to the haste. At many stations no one is allowed to get off and no one is allowed to approach them. There is a great lack of milk for babies, food and boiled water for adults, medical needs for the sick, first aid for the injured. And there is a serious fear of diseases.

Zusman Rozovsky

I was amazed. I knew that Estherin was not in town. I ran to Getsov, I found him helpless. How is it possible to organize help for such a large number of people in a few hours, especially on Shabbat? How can we be asked to do the impossible? He was very sorry that Estherin was not in town. He was indeed a fierce opponent of him, but at this moment he thought about the influence that Estherin had on the authorities and also about his power to raise a lot of money immediately in the time of need. We decided to try and do what we could. We went first and foremost to Zusman Rozovsky. He was rich, but I don't think he was one of the richest in the city. He was sensitive, generous with noble qualities. He did not send away, empty-handed, anyone who came to ask for his help. He was always welcoming, ready to help, bear a burden. He was kind and respectful. When we came, he was not yet dressed. The members of his house were surprised at the early visit on Shabbat, but when he was informed of our arrival, he dressed hastily and came to see us. We showed him the telegrams, told him that Estherin is not in town and we want him to lead

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the aid operations. He answered that this is not a question of who will lead the activity, but it is necessary to check what needs to be done and what he is tasked to do. We agreed that different actions should be taken:

1. Asking the head of the police (Policemeister) to allow us to serve food and drink to the deportees.
2. Asking the rabbis to allow us to do the aid operations, even though it involves desecrating the Shabbat.
3. Finding out where we can buy food.
4. Finding the many people needed for submission the help for the passing trains.
5. Finding out where we will get the necessary funds for the action within a few hours.

The rabbi finished his talk and then a weeping from the ladies' section was heard. Many, many men and women left the synagogue immediately. I hurried to Rozovsky: he visited with Halberstadt the head of police, who received them with a warm welcome, but was not satisfied with the visit. He said that with all his desire to fulfill their request, he can't

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get involved in matters related to the military during wartime. He is not allowed to authorize food to be served to suspected deportees, but he is willing to instruct the police not to deport the people who come to the station with food as long as he does not have clear instructions on this matter. We decided, nevertheless, to begin with the organization of the action. We decided that the center would be in the cheap kitchen - the Zionist Minyan - and that's where we will gather the people and the food. On the way I approached the house of Rebbe Shmariahu Noah Shneerson and asked to be allowed to see him for a few moments on a very important and urgent matter. The Chassidim mocked me loudly and asked if I was mindless or just arrogant. I very briefly conveyed the matter to the gabbai and asked permission from the Rebbe to come in immediately for a few minutes in order to receive his blessing for our action. The gabbai returned immediately and asked me to come in, I showed the rabbi the telegram, I told him about the permission of the rabbis and the dayanim to desecrate the Shabbat, the response of the head of police, and I asked for his blessing that we would overcome the difficulties and that we would succeed in our mission. Rebbe Shneerson was a smart and intelligent man with a lot of experience in the laws of life. He also knew my family, he immediately said quietly and confidently: “A great mitzvah came upon you by chance, don't miss it. The Holy One, blessed be He, will help you and the plan of the wicked will be thwarted”. I left happy. The Chassidim surrounded me, did not let me move and demanded that I explain what the matter was, what the Rebbe said, etc. I replied that the Rebbe had blessed what we were to do and I was in a hurry. One Chassidic shouted: “If the Rebbe blessed you, why do you still have to hurry?” The gabbai came out and relayed the Rebbe's words to him: If one of the descendants of the Gaon of Vilna comes to ask for the Rebbe's blessing, from the descendants of the old Rabbi of Liadi - it is a sign of the power of Chassidism. The Chassidim rejoiced loudly. I ran to the Zionist Minyan. My mother was waiting for me by the entrance and told me that she went to see Dr. Raigorodsky, our doctor - she told him everything and asked for his help by handing over his chariot for a little while. He replied to her that he puts at our disposal his chariot with the horses and his coachman for the whole day. And indeed, they are waiting here, nearby. The entire story was already known in the cheap kitchen house. The building began to fill with many people. Many women came, who left their homes and started cooking and boiling water and milk. Chaim Tuvia Kaplan ran to call the coachmen. He was an excellent Jew who was devoted with his heart and soul to the Zionist movement. He fought hard for his livelihood, but he was always full of humor – “a happy beggar”. I offered him to use Dr. Raigorodsky's chariot, but he replied that with his long legs he would get there quickly, and if they see Chaim Tuvia in the chariot on Shabbat, they would consider him to be a madman and they will not believe him. We decided to divide the people to different addresses, to inform all the houses to take out to the street the food they want to donate and when the coachmen come - to collect the food and bring it to the “cheap kitchen” and from there, to the train station. In a short time, the coachmen appeared. They started to pass through the streets and to bring to the kitchen baskets, pots, sacks, packages. Men and women worked with great enthusiasm and without any rest. The enthusiasm surrounded everyone. Chaim Tuvia Kaplan said that, contrary to their custom, the coachmen did not want to talk about payment for working on Shabbat for such a purpose, and they said that they would not refrain from taking part in such a mitzvah. More and more people came from all the circles. The pharmacies of Bernstein, Barash and more delivered free spirt, bandages, medicines. The women arranged baskets, packed parcels, prepared milk and boiled water in utensils and started to send them to the main train station. Young, adults and youth went there on foot. According to our instructions, they did not concentrate in the station building, but rather dispersed some distance from the railroads. Traders tried to talk to the station manager whom they knew well and that he would help them. They conveyed his words, that the trains will start to pass after a while, with breaks, one after the other. Each train will only be delayed for the short time it needs. Nor he neither the head of the gendarmes will be able to help in the matter of bringing the food for the trains, if he doesn't get the army's approval. Military officers are about to arrive, but their position is unknown. After a while people came with bad news. Near the train station there are many Jews of all ages and circles, ready and willing to deliver baskets of food to the train, but the army guard appeared and the officer ordered to distance everyone away from the train tracks. One coachman who approached the tracks with the wagon was beaten and threatened with imprisonment. The people are very worried and ask for instructions, what they should do. A gloomy mood prevailed. There was a fear that all efforts had been made in vain. They started thinking about Jewish contractors connected with the army. But there was only a short time, and it was doubtful that they could immediately motivate one of the heads of the army to take swift action. In this situation, on the verge of despair, a strange idea popped up to me. I went to Orlov, the chief military pastor. He was surprised that I came to him in a chariot on Shabbat, because I never came to his house on Shabbat. He realized that something serious had happened. I told him everything, showed the telegram and asked him that, out of concern for children and babies, he would use his influence in the army, to allow us to serve food and water to the trains. He hesitated and said: “Everything is done according to the order of the high command. The people are suspected of espionage or of being willing to cooperate with the enemy

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and it is very uncomfortable to intervene in such cases”. I began to explain him that without going into the actual thing, it is impossible to blame thousands of people with malicious intentions without any proof. After all, first of all, it is clear that the babies did not sin and they are not suspects; Secondly, if the order derives from military reasons, which cannot be contested, then it was not specified that food should not be served to the deportees. Because the great prince certainly will not give a cruel order without any military justification. I added that in my opinion, he would do a good service to maintain the honor of the army, if we may be allowed to offer help. His answer was: “It's not easy, it's not easy”. He left the room, secluded himself for a while, then came out wearing uniforms with all his badges of honor on his chest, and said he would go to the brigade commander and try to convince him to take a kind action in the name of pure Christianity. After a while he returned with an officer and said that the officer will go to the train station and give the following instructions: Deportees are not allowed to get off the trains, others are not allowed to get on the train. It is allowed to serve food and drink, but it is forbidden to delay the trains because of this. I can't describe what I felt that moment. I traveled with the officer - according to my suggestion - in two separate chariots. When we arrived with the instructions, it seemed to me that not only were we happy to hear them, but also the station manager and the gendarmes were satisfied. They informed us in advance about each train that was about to come. The pairs were scattered along the entire length of the track with baskets and packages. When the train stopped each pair ran to another car, quickly handed over to the hands outstretched from the car window food, milk, medicine, water, said: “Fahrt gezunteheit” (have a safe travel) and would immediately move away.

The order was excellent. The soldiers and gendarmes began to treat us well. In several cases, soldiers helped the young women serve the baskets, when they could not reach the window. Many trains passed by at various breaks. Everything went smoothly and our people were happy. But suddenly they noticed a malfunction. It was made clear that out of dedication and enthusiasm they distributed a lot of food and there was little left for the trains that were about to come. With no other option, I went together with Chaim Tuvia Kaplan to the synagogue of the coachmen (Di Baal-Agalishe Shul), we turned to the chief gabbai, whose nickname was “reckless Yankele”. He only heard a few of our sentences, got on the stage and shouted loudly: “Why are you standing here for? Harness the horses! Collect food and go straight to the train station, and if anyone dares to ask for money, damn him, I will pull out all the teeth he has in his mouth”. Someone called out: “Dus is a lang!” (this is a language!).

The coachmen, headed by “reckless Yankele”, left the synagogue. In a short time, several of their children appeared in the “cheap kitchen”, and went out with our people to collect food. They took boiled water in the kitchen and brought it to the station. The children of the coachmen ran happily to the houses and helped our people. The baskets were hastily arranged by the tracks. The people waited patiently until the last train passed. We parted in an exaggerated courteous manner from the manager of the station, the army officers and the head of the gendarmes and we dispersed full of satisfaction. I will give another typical detail. When I traveled on the streets of the city to see how the food collection is progressing, I was stopped and said that one merchant was waiting for me for a long time. When I went off the carriage, I saw a man, not so young, waiting at the back door of his shop and next to him was a lot of food: sugar, pastries in boxes, halva, sausage, candies, figs and more. I thought that the man wants to show me what he is handing over in order to get paid the next day. But he explained that he never sells on Shabbat and will certainly not receive any payment from us. He will be willing to take out more food if we need it. But he requested that my Christian coachman will close the back door of the store with the locked. The reason was that after he took out the groceries in order to help the deportees, he doesn't want to work on Shabbat. The next day, Zusman Rozovsky appeared and brought a lot of money with him. He couldn't believe that we didn't spend a penny, he said jokingly that it was probably the best business he did in his life.

When I now sum up what happened fifty years ago, the images of all the people, who did this wonderful action, pass before my eyes again. It seems to me worthy of mentioning the following things: Rabbi Shapira's decision to elevate above the written laws sacred to him in times of emergency; Rebbe Shmariahu Noach Shneerson's blessing for the action, for which they did not ask for his consent; Zusman Rozovsky's willingness to commit to pay huge sums without saying anything; the volunteering of the coachmen, contrary to their tradition of demanding a large salary in cases of emergencies; the great work of the women who left their homes, without serving a meal on Shabbat, in order to serve food to others; the behavior of Dr. Raigorodsky, who went on foot to the sick at the edge of the city, contrary to his habit of always traveling; the mass devotion and tireless hard work throughout the entire Shabbat of all those who were at the train station without food throughout the day, because they did not want to eat

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from the food that was intended for the deportees; the pastor Orlov, who did not want any publicity and any public expression of gratitude or any kind of gift. “I did what I did - he said - out of mercy, and God will justify my actions. People are different, good and bad, who knows what they will say. Maybe, once, in days to come, I will be remembered fondly”.

Each of these performances is a bright page in the wonderful tractate of “Bobruisk at a time of trial”.

On February 28, 1916, the Council of the Jewish Political Committee took place in St. Petersburg with the participation of a representative of the committees of “Yakofo” (Aid Committees) for refugees. At the opening of one of the meetings, Seljusberg, who was sitting at the head instead of Vinaver, who was ill at the time, said: “I would like to introduce our young activist Levinson of Kharkov, who last year wonderfully organized the help to the deportees from the Kovno province in the city of Bobruisk. The action proved that with mass volunteering and devotion, it's sometimes possible to do even the seemingly impossible. We should believe that we will overcome all the difficulties that are now ahead of us. The fact that in this case the help came from a place they did not expect, should encourage us a lot”.

The protocol of the council was also sent to me, but I lost it in my wanderings.

A Letter from Bobruisk

by Dr. M. Katznelson

Translated by Mira Eckhaus

Edited by Erica S. Goldman-Brodie

Thanks to this innovation - self-esteem of the residents in favor of central institution - we managed to ensure the existence of the institutions that have existed until now, to make improvements in them and finally to mark some new beginnings. And so, we prevented, by these means, the collapse of public institutions, and in this difficult time, the taxa crisis is not felt in all its severity.

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The Adventures of a Refugee

by Dr. M. Katznelson

Translated by Mira Eckhaus

Edited by Erica S. Goldman-Brodie

Before the First World War I lived in my parents' house in the city Chelm in the province of Lublin. My father was a clerk and a secretary in the forests and was an expert in the timber trade, my mother had a general store next to the train station. My parents were affluent. We studied in a “cheder” and in a yeshiva, and in addition we studied general secular lessons, Hebrew, Russian and music with private teachers.

In the summer of 5674 (1914), with the outbreak of the war, there was a panic among the Jews in our area, which was near the Austrian border. This panic increased when Cossack units arrived in the city. The Cossacks would enter the Jewish shops, rob and loot everything they wanted, and beat the shop owners with brooms, while shouting “Zhidovskaya Morda”. The situation worsened after the Russians suffered several defeats on the front and, as usual, blamed the Jews, who are supposedly spies and help Russia's enemies.

After the forest trade stopped with the outbreak of the war and our store was emptied of merchandise, my parents fled with their family members on the last train to Kartuz Biroza, abandoning all their possessions. Some time later, a miracle happened to the Russians and they repelled the Austrians and broke south into Galicia. I returned with my brother to our house, and we found that people from the army and the underworld looted and robbed it, and only some of the furniture that our Christian neighbor had hidden, was left for us. We received permission from the authorities to bring goods to the city for the needs of the citizens and the army. In no time, Dad re-opened the store.

A few months passed and the Russians began to retreat rapidly from the German and Austrian armies. And once again there was panic. The Russians burned everything before their departure, and of course, they blamed the Jews for everything. They arrested my father's family and two other families and sent them by train as hostages. After many wanderings, our family settled in Bobruisk.

When we arrived in Bobruisk, a delegation of the city's residents including Rabinowitz, Herschel Luzinsky and Katznelson, met us at the train station. My father told them all our wanderings. They loaded the family members and the belongings on carts and brought us to the town. My father undertook to visit the police every day and received a ration of food as a political refugee: three pounds of bread per day per person, twenty-seven pounds of meat per week for the whole family, 27 pounds of salt, oil, soap, matches, tobacco, tea, sugar and more. We moved to an apartment on Shuseinaya street and we would sell the surplus of our food to the neighbors.

Panic prevailed in Bobruisk as well. The rich fled to Kyiv, Yekaterinoslav and Poltava. The banks were closed, the factories did not work. The Germans had already reached Baranovichi. Convoys of refugees would pass in wagons day and night through Bobruisk, not knowing where fate would lead them. Since it was impossible to get food for the animals, the refugees would sell their horses, a horse for a ruble but still, there were no buyers! They sold their carts and the rest of their possessions. People starved, died of diseases and no one helped. In this way, several weeks of panic passed in Bobruisk, until it became clear that the Germans lingered in Baranovichi, set up their fortifications there, and camped there until the end of 1917. During the panic, our landlord also fled to Poltava, he and his family, and handed his apartment with all his furniture to the industrial Yosef Krasnopol. Yosef Krasnopol and his wife Hanna were born in Rovno, and they had a large house and a grain trading house in Rovno. They moved to Bobruisk, brought professionals from Grodno and established plywood factories from the other bank of the Berezina River, next to Titovka. The manager of the factory was a Jew named Ziperstein. He, the accountant and the other workers were supported financially by Krasnopol. The Krasnopol family itself numbered twelve people (plus two maids). We got to know our new neighbors. They visited our house and asked us to come visit them. They promised my father that when the situation changed for the better, they would give him a job at the factory. At that time, their situation was difficult. They were left without cash. There was no one to sell the goods even for half price, and the banks suddenly left Bobruisk before they could get their money out of them. They asked my parents to help them with food and money as much as they could, until their situation improves. Every day my parents gave them the excess rations they received and also some money. We wrote down every day what they took from us and it was accumulated to an amount of more than a thousand rubles.

After a while the situation changed. The government ordered huge quantities of plywood from the factory to build field barracks at the front. The factory worked in two shifts. The supplier Herschel Luzinsky opened a carpentry shop in the Polygon lot and hired about four hundred carpenters, who would make frames and walls out of plywood and move the parts to the front, where they would assemble them in a very short time into barracks. Even then there were therefore what we call today “prefabricated houses”.

We were afraid that we would not get back the money owed to us. We went to the factory. The director Ziperstein turned to me to say: Yaakov! If you want to learn a profession, I am willing to teach you the job of sorting and measuring the plywood myself, and you will work as our representative with the official of the government”. I immediately agreed and within a month the entire staff was stunned by the speed with which I learned the profession.

On the first of the month, they put out a sign: “Payment today”. All the male and female workers entered the office, each person said their name and received an envelope containing the account of his working days and the amount of money he is owed. I did not enter the office that day, because I thought that as I was an apprentice studying the profession, I am not yet worthy of it. And here came the director Ziperstein and asked me: “Have you already received your salary, Yaakov”? “No” - I answered - I don't know if I'm already entitled to receive a salary”. He called me to the office and asked the bookkeeper why didn't he pay me my salary. “I don't know what level he deserves”, the bookkeeper replied. Mr. Ziperstein asked me to leave the office for a moment. They consulted, and afterwards they called me, and handed me an envelope of money. I went into the warehouse, opened the envelope, and found forty rubles in it. It was not considered a small salary in 1915. I continued to work there and every month I was promoted in rank and my salary increased.

My mother was paid the entire amount owed to us, both for the food and the cash money, and Mrs. Hanna Krasnopol promised my mother to put my father in the forestry job, which she was going to buy not far from Bobruisk. They also kept this promise eventually.

My father worked in the forests and in the factories, and because his employers saw his knowledge of trees and forests, he was promoted greatly and his financial situation improved. We moved to a new apartment on Muraviyovskaya St. and the children entered the high school.

On January 20, 1917, the police conducted a search for deserters. After midnight the police came and knocked on the door our house. The Pristab (police officer) turned to me and said: “Get dressed and come with us!” Mother and the children cried (father was in the forest), but nothing helped. They took me to the prison of the police and locked me in a dark, narrow room. I froze that night of cold and I didn't have a stool to sit on or a bunk to lie on. The next day I was taken for interrogation by the Pristab, a tall gentile, similar to Goliath the Philistine, broad-shouldered, wearing blue wide pants and shiny black boots. He asked me where I was born and in what year. I answered him and showed him the birth certificate. Then he raised his voice and said: “Everything is a lie”, he even slapped on my cheek several times and ordered to lock me down for eight days in a dark room and provide me only bread and water. The efforts of the traders and acquaintances was in vain and I spent the eight days in the prison. On the eighth day I was taken again for interrogation by the Pristab. Also this time he beat me hard and sent me with two policemen to take a photo shoot at the photographer on Shuseinaya St. From there the policemen took me to the commander of the fort. Here I was interrogated by an old general, whose beard reached his knees, and sentenced me to fourteen days in the penal battalion (disciplinary battalion).

In this place there were deserters from all over Russia and its nations. I was the only Jew. Here they didn't ask me who I was, and since I looked young for my age, they treated me nicely. They fed me and they gave me tea, sugar, cigarettes, and more, and comforted me by saying: “Do not fear, God is with you, everything will be good. Fourteen days later I was brought before the general again. He looked at me angrily and said to me several times “Yvreiskaya Morda” (“Jewish face”), and finally he ordered: “Take him to Smolensk”.

I was taken outside and I immediately disappeared into the crowd and returned home. I told them what had happened to me and they told me: “There is no way out. Take a bath, take all the things you need and return there, because there is an order that anyone who hides a deserter in his home is sentenced to death”. I took my belongings and some money and went to the train station in Rezina, and I boarded the first train that came from the front without a ticket and without any letter and arrived in Smolensk. I went to the commander at the train station and told him that I had lost my sentry and I did not know where to turn. He gave me the address of the camp I should join. I found the camp between snowy mountains late at night.

The commander of this camp received me with mercy. He thought

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that I was a volunteer and he said to me: “A young man like you has nothing to do but volunteer in order to be killed at the front?” They brought me to a bath house, bathed me, shaved me and fed me hot food, because I was completely frozen. They gave me a uniform and a rifle and a place to sleep in the camp and two days of rest. I coughed and got a high fever. On the second day I went to the roll call and complained to my supervisor, and he sent me to the doctor. The doctor was a Jew with the rank of a polkovnik. I told him everything that had happened to me and he ordered me to lie in the military hospital for fourteen days. After that I went to training. I was liked by all the soldiers in the camp, because I was the youngest among them.

A short time later the revolution broke out and all the soldiers were called to the swearing in roll call for the new government. I went to the roll call with all the soldiers, went into a restaurant, arranged my clothes and put the rifle in the corner, I went to the train station and I returned to Bobruisk.

Journey Full of wanderings

by Kaddish Luz

Translated by Mira Eckhaus

Edited by Erica S. Goldman-Brodie

What were we supposed to do, the Jewish officers, who got caught up into this army out of our loyalty to the Constituent Assembly? We consulted and decided to leave the army all together. It was not a simple matter. The city was under siege. Falling into the hands of the Bolsheviks meant death by firing squad, similar to the sentence of an officer of Kerensky's army. And falling at the hands of the White Army meant betrayal of the army and desertions. Nevertheless, the meaning of the decision was clear: with those who sang the tsarist anthem we have nothing in common. We left the army.

A few days after we left the army, the Bolsheviks entered the city. Searches and murders began, until the government began to organize itself. I decided to try my luck and come home to Bobruisk. I didn't have certificates and I had to get them. Luckily, I managed to get a license to go to Kharkov. I fell into the hands of an officer who threatened to hand me over to the Bolshevik authorities, and only my threat, that I also had something to inform about him, helped me escape from him.

From Kharkov, I continued my journey to Moscow. This time too I managed to get certificates. I had in my possession a letter from the “Jewish workers Histadrut HeChalutz”, certifying that I am a delegate to one of the all-Russian gatherings. The words “workers Histadrut” were enough to influence the commandant of Kharkov to approve my travel, and more over, I traveled for free in the car of the delegates.

Hunger prevailed in Moscow. This was evident by the look in the faces of the passers-by. It was one of the most difficult times. The new government had not yet been organized. A large part of Russia was in the hands of the Germans, in another part there was a civil war, the roads were disrupted, hunger prevailed in the capital city.

I did not find my brother whom I had hoped to meet in Moscow. I spent a few days in the city with some of my friends who studied in the city and starved. Moscow was just a stop on the way for me and I had only one desire in my heart: to get home.

No citizen could get a travel permit. The Germans were in Orsha and a request for a travel permit in that direction raised suspicions. So, we decided, some Jews from Bobruisk, and I was among them, to travel in a wagon without a permit.

We set out five Jews and a gentile coachman. We drove

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A group of Jewish students - Spring 1917 Standing: Heshel Frumkin, Kadish Luz, Abba Ahimeir, Moshe Melnik Sitting: Eliyahu Dobkin, Avraham Luria, Yuli Shargai, Meir Haisinowitz

The cold was strong and bothered us a lot. I got sick. I had a high fever. My friends urged me to stop the trip, but I refused. One night I felt that despite the intense cold I was sweating. In the morning, I felt better and the fever passed. I felt great weakness, and when I tried to get a word out of my mouth I couldn't – I lost my voice.

On the eve of Passover (1918), at a late hour, when the Jews were already in the middle of the Seder, we arrived in Bobruisk. The wagon lingered near our house. I got off and quietly entered the house. I stood at the entrance to the dining room. As if it were a 5410ure from another world, I saw the large room with the set table, towards which my mother, father, brothers and sisters were turned. My mother was the first to notice my presence. With a shout she jumped to me from the table followed by everyone. Mother touched all my parts, especially my right hand. Later she told me that in her dream she saw me lying wounded on the battlefield, my right hand was amputated.

Those were sad days for me. An affair in my life has ended. For what purpose did I waste two years of my life? What was the suffering for? The great and glorified hope of the spring revolution, for which I returned to the army, was also dashed. I saw in the Bolshevik uprising an uprising of slaves who had been oppressed for generations, and when liberation came, they did not know how to use it. I did not believe that they were going to establish a life of freedom and justice.

And as for me: I had a feeling as if my ships had been sunk. Once again, I am at a crossroads and surrounded by total darkness. Only the decision to accomplish at the first opportunity

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what I was unable to accomplish before the war - only they shone in my soul and kept me from sinking into moral despair or worries about material existence in the future.

In the city I found, to my great joy, Aharon Getsov, one of my five best friends. He also spent several years in the army and in battles, and he also arrived home by difficult roads. And already at our first meeting we decided to establish a bold enterprise: to lease a plot of land and cultivate it. We said to ourselves: if it is not possible to travel to the Land of Israel, in the meantime, we should do here what we want to do in Israel.

Aharon Getsov, or as we called him Ilia, was the son of the well-known dentist in the city, Benedict Labovitch Getsov, an important activist and a friendly and kind-hearted person, whom everyone loved. He was not a Zionist, and did not belong to any party at all, but everyone met at his house. Constant visitors to his home were the Zionists Levin (brother of Shmariahu Levin) and the teacher Labovitch, Nachke Yochavid, the Bund leader, and Salomon Labovitch Ginzburg the cadet. A pleasant atmosphere prevailed in this house and I visited it often.

My friend Getsov was a dear person, with an emotional soul under a somewhat rigid outer shell. He loved nature very much. I always regretted that he and my other friend Boris Lifshitz not immigrating to Eretz Israel, because they were created for Eretz Israel and they dreamed about Eretz Israel. Even when we were students at school, I was sure that deep down in his heart he longed for Zionism. But why didn't he admit it? Maybe because of lack of courage. Because in the years before the previous war, in the circles of the intelligentsia in our city, there was a kind of disrespect attitude for the Zionists, as if they were idlers.

Now I was very happy that my friend joined me and we could cook up our dreams together. I told my father about our plan. He was very astonished, but did not try to influence me to cancel it. On the contrary, it seemed to me that for some reason he was satisfied with the plan. He immediately told me that we do not need to lease a land. He had in his possession an area of one and a half dessiatins, right on the edge of the Berezina River, a fenced area with a small house inside, and he is ready to hand it over to us. This encouraged us a lot and we immediately started work. It was actually the first “training company” in our city.

We received the first training from the agronomist of “Zemstvo”, a young Russian, whom my friend's father knew and asked him to help us. He did so willingly. We made a nursery and grew in it cauliflower and tomato seedlings - new crops, which so far have hardly been grown in our environment. We sowed them according to the agronomist's recommendation. Apart from that we sowed and we planted cabbage, carrots, cucumbers and potatoes, a real vegetable garden. In the dark we would leave the house and arrive at sunrise to our lot; we would bring breakfast and lunch with us from home. We did not allow ourselves to have any lunch break. We worked continuously until sunset.

A good spirit prevailed between us. We were young and cheerful and added to this was the feeling of strength and the joy of creation. Our enterprise attracted attention in the city and greatly encouraged the youth.

When our garden began to bear fruit, the thefts also began in it. We then moved into the lot and guarded it alternately at night. All summer we lived as Robinson Crusoe, we hardly met anyone. We were very engrossed in our work and our new experiences. Even politics didn't interest us, even though these days were days in which the fate of nations and countries was decided.

When the harvest time of the potato arrived, my friend became sick. I remained alone and I continued our work. I would guard and nap at night and dig potatoes during the day. Finally, I also became sick. The Spanish flu attacked me.

My father took upon himself to take care of the lot. He sold it to a Jewish gardener along with a certain quantity of crops for the families of the two “workers”. When we recovered from our illness, we found almost nothing in the garden and strangers controlled it.

I don't remember what the residents of the city actually did back then and what they did for a living. The profiteering was very common; however, it is not possible that the whole city made a living from profiteering. Father, who was always busy with his businesses from morning until late at night, could rest a little. He was left with the glass factory and the wood warehouses that he sold, as well as the large fruit next to the brick factory.

That summer, “independent Ukraine” was established under the government of Hetman Skoropadskyi. Our province should have belonged to Poland and it was controlled, so to speak, by General Dowbor-Muśnicki. In fact, both Ukraine and Poland were controlled by the Germans. Thus, a connection was established between the two countries and travel was possible, although it was very dangerous for the Jews. Rumors spread that from Odessa there is sometimes a possibility of reaching Eretz Israel. I began to think about Odessa. If there is indeed any possibility of immigrating from there to Eretz Israel, it would be for the best if I will be present at the scene of the act. But what will I do in Odessa if the way to immigrate to Eretz Israel is not found? And here I've found out that an agricultural institute was established there in the university. I therefore decided to travel,

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and if I didn't manage to get on the ship going to Israel, I would at least study agriculture. And so, I traveled again across all of Russia to Odessa, “on the way” to Eretz Israel.

However, this “way” was longer than I expected and I was not able to immigrate to Israel. When I came to Odessa it was made clear to me that there was no possibility of immigrating to Israel. I enrolled in the Agricultural Institute and started studying. I worked very intensively. A real eagerness for studies arose in me and I immersed myself in it.

I tried to get closer to the Zionist youth circles and I visited a few times the meetings of Zionist students. They were few. Their discussions mainly revolved around the matters of cultural work and did not attract my heart. Very few of the Zionists thought seriously about the Land of Israel in those days.

I was very interested in the lectures of the agronomist Zusman, who read to the students about the agriculture of the Land of Israel. As is well-known, the agronomist Zusman then founded a training camp for pioneers near Odessa. I did not know about this, and it is possible that if I had known about it, the path of my immigration would have changed radically. In Odessa, I once met H. Stoller from Kinneret on his way to the Crimea. He too was looking for a way to immigrate to the Land of Israel. Finally, we arrived in Israel at about the same time, but in different ways.

My studies did not last long. A civil war broke out in Ukraine and Odessa was under siege. Hunger prevailed in the city. During this period, I personally felt the hunger.

Skoropadskyi's forces were few and the authorities decided to recruit people they could trust. An order was given that all former officers must show up immediately before the authorities. I had to show up and I was recruited.

Hunger and anarchy prevailed in the city. The thefts and stealing spread enormously. The city authorities were very worried and they turned to the army authorities with a proposal to organize from the students and officers special companies to guard the city. The army agreed, and thus the “student battalion” was organized as a special military unit, which was subordinate not to the army, but rather to the municipality. They set us a decent salary and also a daily ration of bread.

Our job was to guard the city, especially at night. Since we had a special status, since we were subordinate to the municipality, our battalion continued to exist despite all the changes of government. The city passed from hand to hand and was controlled alternately by the Skoropadskyi, Petalura, the Bolshevik, Denikin's White Army and again by the Bolsheviks, and every government was interested in us and re-approved our battalion, and sometimes even added weapons and ammunition.

Our battalion played a very important role in the city and there were also quite a few days that we were actually the authorities and the only keepers of order in the city. The members of the student battalion mostly belonged to the socialist parties, as was the way of the Russian students at that time. There was a significant percentage of Jews in the battalion and thanks to this, riots in the Jews of Odessa, during the government of Petalura and Denikin, and especially between the different government, were probably avoided.

After the first government of the Bolsheviks, Denikin's White Army came to the city. Then terrible rumors began to arrive about what was happening in Ukraine, about riots, slaughters, Jews being thrown from trains and killed. In Odessa itself the silence prevailed, but the Jewish settlement was full of anxiety, and with the approaching of the Bolsheviks to the city for the second time, the Jewish community eagerly awaited their entry into the city.

A few days after the Bolsheviks entered the city for the second time in the summer, the student battalion came to an end. The battalion was disbanded and we were scattered in different battalions of the Bolshevik army. I was sent to the battalion of the famous Mishka Yaponchik.

Mishka Yaponchik was a famous Jewish robber in and around Odessa. He was at the head of a large, well-armed gang of robbers. It was said that even back in the time of the Tsar he had the best equipment: guns, machine guns and even cannons. It was said: Riots once started in Odessa, but they were immediately stopped by Mishka's gang, which took out its machine guns on the street, killed some of the rioters and scared off the rest. With the beginning of the Bolshevist government, Mishka turned his gang to a military battalion.

We came to the battalion about fifteen students. We appeared before the political commissar, who was also a Jew. The commissar spoke before us, and this was the content of his speech:

“You, who were officers in Kerensky's army, are always suspected of being counter-revolutionaries. Know that with the first attempt of breaking discipline, or of wanting to run away, or any contact with people from outside, you will be treated like the enemies of the people, and you will be put against the wall”. And he turned to the soldiers: “Soldiers! Keep an eye on them and inform immediately to your superiors on any suspicious movement!”

Then the minister of the battalion himself, Mishka Yaponchik, approached us. He didn't speak and just stood silently next to the commissar. His face really resembled a Mongolian and that's why he got, apparently,

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his nicknames. When the commissar finished his speech, Mishka broke into a loud laugh and told us: “behave properly and nothing bad will happen to you”.

A few weeks later, the White Army started approaching the city again. We waited day by day for the order to go to the battlefield. And the commissar's warning took on a serious character again. Suddenly an order was received to immediately send all the former officers to the train station in order to be sent to a place that would be clear to us in the station. The Bolsheviks feared that we would go over to the White Army and thereby strengthen its power. When I came to the station, they gave me certificates that I should go to Kazan. The train to Kazan was ready at the station.

It was clear to me that a trip to Kazan, to the east of Russia, means travelling in exactly the opposite direction and that means the end of all my hopes of immigrating to Israel.

At the station I met a friend, a guy from Homel, also a Zionist, who was also looking for a way to immigrate to Eretz Israel. We agreed to make joint efforts in order to leave the train and try to reach each of our homes, he to Homel and I to Bobruisk.

We knew that leaving the train involved the danger of death. If they catch us, former officers and Red Army soldiers in the present, when we try to dodge - they will shoot us on the spot. We knew that between stations, the certificates and travel permits of the passengers are checked and all those who do not have permits are banned. Apart from that, news has reached us that on the western front the Polish army has advanced to a great extent and the Soviet army has retreated, and the trains travel from Homel to Bobruisk only for the needs of the army. We carefully calculated the chances of success for ourselves, and this is the conclusion we reached: my friend could only get to Homel through a combination of several successes, while I could get from Homel to Bobruisk only by a miracle. And yet we decided to travel west no matter what. It was clear to us: Eretz Israel can be reached either from Odessa or via Western Europe, but in any case, not via Kazan.

We had to get off the train at the Bachmach station, where the railroads branch off. From here trains went in the direction of Homel-Bobruisk. Our hope that we would arrive in Bachmach at night was not fulfilled, and we had to make an escape in daylight. We took our packs, because our civilian clothes were packed in them, and quietly and safely we got off the car, as if we had reached the district we wanted, and went to the side of the town.

When we were in the open field, we heard our train pulling away. For several hours we sat on a pile of hay and consulted about the rest of the way. Should we destroy the military documents indicating that we must go to Kazan? Should we take off our army clothes and appear as civilians? But how will we continue the journey without travel permits? We decided that there was no choice but to enter the military train going in the direction of Homel. We hoped for a miracle, that they might not notice us.

We got into one of the train cars and sat down in it, as if it had been our place ever since. The soldiers looked at us with surprise and my friend made an excuse about the crowd in the nearby car. No one asked us anything, and so we arrived safely in Homel. No train ran past this station.

My sister and her husband, both of them were doctors, lived in Homel at the time. I spent a few days with them and researched the travel options to Bobruisk. I realized that this was impossible. Bobruisk was very close to the front. Civilian trains did not go there at all and travel permits were only given to civilians connected to the affairs of the army. Every day I would go to the train station. I once met a Jewish acquaintance there, from our city, who was a supplier of the army and had a permanent travel permit. I asked for his help. He told me that he could buy a travel ticket for me, but he would not be able to obtain a permit. I decided to settle for a travel ticket only. I sent my sister a note that I am going without intent of returning and went up to the car with my acquaintance. There was another Jew in the car and I sat between them.

At the nearest station we saw through the window three people who were taken off one of the cars and taken to the back of the station. The soldiers who took them off the train returned to the car and the train moved. From them the passengers learned that the three people were taken off the car in order to be shot by the guard that parked there. The inspection guard approached the car where I was sitting. At the nearest station I got out and got into one of the cars that had already passed the inspection, and I only returned to it after it passed the inspection. I did so twice. But here we arrived at a station in which the distance between it and the next station is so great that the guard can check all the cars before the train reaches the second station. I knew the road well and was very afraid of this place. I agreed with my two neighbors that when the guard came in, one of them would hand me his permit, and as soon as the permit was returned to him, the other would put his permit next to him. The guard of two soldiers entered. One went to the window and looked out, the other checked the permits. My first neighbor gave him his permit

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And when the permit was returned to him, he immediately got the other neighbor's permit. He returned it and moved on. I sat quietly with the clear knowledge that these moments are determining my fate for life or death.

At a late hour I arrived in Bobruisk. The coachman took me to the house where my family lived. The gate was closed and I didn't want to knock, because it was an emergency and knocking could cause panic in the house. I climbed and crossed the fence and sat on the steps of the house. The night was cold - it was the end of the autumn, but I was very tired and fell asleep. Early in the morning, when my father went to the synagogue to pray, he found me and woke me up.

I spent several weeks in a state of complete passivity, as if I were sleeping a liturgical sleep. I was depleted and tired. It was not just physical fatigue, nor momentary fatigue. I slept a lot and relived all my last years: the tsarist army, the deep struggle between my Zionist Jewish feeling, calling to stay away from any participation in the revolution, and between the feeling of duty as a Russian and Jewish citizen; the return to the army, the school for officers; my participation in the suppression of Kornilov's uprising against the revolution, which for a few days united the entire left camp; my participation in the suppression of the Bolshevik uprising in Petrograd in July, my service as an officer in the army, the October revolution, the civil war and my participation in it, Rostov, the return to Bobruisk, the idyll of our “training camp”; Odessa, the awakening of the passion for studies, the students battalion, the incessant changes of government; hunger, nights and days of work and study and the dangers of Mishka Yaponchik's battalion. Finally, the departure of Odessa and being home again. But for how many days? I had the feeling that it was not just the coincidences that worked to get me out safely from all of this, a feeling that my life was given to me as a gift for a reason. During these weeks, when I lay at home and my mother fed me and gave me back my strength, my pioneering knowledge and my pioneering willingness were formed. And I made a firm decision to immigrate to Eretz Israel and enlist there in the army of fulfillment, this time our army.

Before I got sick, I visited my young friends, who also established a training company in our city and cultivated a vegetable garden and a fruit garden together. Together we made plans for Aliyah. In the meantime, the Poles occupied the city and it was possible to begin handling the practical matters related to the travel.

The Jews of Bobruisk began to adapt to the Polish occupation. Work kidnappings began. Here and there they would cut an old Jew's beard. The Jews were careful not to walk alone in the streets. The owners of the property began to collect the crumbs of their property. There were a few wise men who saw the imminent re-takeover of the Bolsheviks in Bobruisk, and made preparations to emigrate to Poland or Western Europe. The profiteers reversed the direction of their travels. The poor of the people suffered poverty and hunger. The Jews began to cherish every piece of ground in their yards and turned it into a vegetable garden.

The winter has passed over all of us in readiness for the travel. Confidence reigned in my heart that this time I would reach my destination. I was bonded with all the members of our group. Meetings were held for consultation and for obtaining Polish passports. I did not work together with the friends in their garden. Again, I didn't want to bond to a permanent thing, because I made a firm decision to go on the road at any cost, whether it was with my friends or without them. In the meantime, I spent my time doing agricultural work in the garden next to our house.

One day I had an incident with five Polish soldiers. I left the house in the morning and saw my father surrounded by Polish soldiers. Four held him and one took scissors from his pocket, they were going to cut his beard. I attacked them and started hitting them with all my might. They left my father and turned to me. A few moments later my two brothers also came running and we all continued the battle; we even came out of it as the victorious. The soldiers left. We were beaten, but we were happy that we saved father from disgrace and forced the scoundrels to retreat.

And then the news about the Prague conference arrived. Our friend H. Frumkin went there and returned with great enthusiasm, which infected us all. The living connection with the Land of Israel, with its people who were at the conference, seemed to introduce us in a leap of faith into the atmosphere and reality of the land. Our way in the Land of Israel began to become clearer to us. In the first time, we will probably have to work in public works, on roads, in construction. It was hard to say goodbye to the dream of agriculture and the farm, but – it was not in the foreseeable future.

And everything was ready for the travel. We had the papers in our hands and the little money with us, and soon we will be leaving. However, as the day of the trip approached, it weighed heavily on us. It was hard to say goodbye to the old parents. I knew, and they knew too, that we would not see each other again.

Sadness was overshadowing the house in the last days of my stay there. My brothers were generally far from Zionism. They would always dismiss my aspiration to the Land of Israel. This time, it was as if the reality of my travel thrown a new light on their condition.

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On the last evening, we sat and talked about daily matters and from time to time we would come back to the matter of the trip. Before we parted, my younger brother said to me: “You may be right. You know at least what to wish for, and here we are carried like dust in the wind”.

My parents were outwardly quiet, but very sad. They tried very hard not to reveal the sorrow of parting, not to burden me. A few hours before my trip, I entered Tziva Luzinski, the elder of the family, who was about a hundred years old at the time, and I received her blessing for my travel.

Before every trip, my father used to give me two coins, and it was a commandment to give one of them to a poor person who happened to be where I was, and to keep the other until I returned home and give it to a poor fellow of the city. In this, he would make me a messenger of a mitzvah, and as it was known, “messengers of a mitzvah are not harmed”. This time my father took out only one coin and ordered me to deliver it to a poor near the Western Wall (and I fulfilled his order after a while).

The time to say goodbye arrived. It was hard to stop hugging my old mother, it was hard to stop kissing her.

Few people came to accompany us at the train station. We were delayed a long time at the station because of our belongings, and we were especially troubled by our friend Yehiel's large package, which contained all the Zionist shekels he had collected and all the tax receipts he had paid to Zionist associations, as well as many other documents of this kind.

And finally, the train moved. Farewell, Bobruisk!

The excitement of parting subsides and little by little we start a conversation. And here one of the friends stood up and announced: “From now on, no one should dare to utter a word that is not in Hebrew. For every word in Yiddish or Russian, I will slap you on the cheek”. He demanded and fulfilled. From now on, we stuttered only in Hebrew, and when we arrived to Israel - we were perfect Israelis.

The conversation was flowing. The tears have not yet dried - and already our eyes were sparkling with cheerful laughter. The group was under cheerfulness and seriousness at the same time: we are going to the Land of Israel.

And a heavy feeling of responsibility suddenly fell on my heart. In those moments I took charge of these boys, seventeen to twenty years old, responsibility for a shared life and for the Land of Israel.

On the Shores of the Berezina River

by M. Rudansky

Translated by Mira Eckhaus

Edited by Erica S. Goldman-Brodie

A tumultuous life was conducted on the shores of the Berezina until the Bolsheviks came and turned everything into ruins. First of all, the Bolsheviks loudly announced the great inheritance that had fallen in their share from the bourgeoisie in Bobruisk. Big announcements were placed in Moscow about the fact that in Bobruisk, about one hundred thousand pods of sugar fell into their hands, which will be delivered to the capital cities, Moscow and Petrograd. Immediately, representatives from many starving cities and from different organizations came to Bobruisk - and all of them were holding valid certificates, but the goods did not move. Apart from the “Gorprodcom”, which interfered as much as it could with the removal of the goods, a committee of officials and workers was established, which called itself in the bombastic name “The Committee of the Nationalized Fleet of the Berezina”, and forcefully took the confiscated goods. The different “heirs” quarreled among themselves for a long time, until the matter reached the “upper echelon”, and a warning was sent from the committee to “Gorprodcom” not to interfere with the removal of the goods, or else – all its people will be handed to the Revolutionary Tribunal as saboteurs. “Gorprodcom” did its thing and over time the goods began to disappear in considerable quantities.

In the city of Bobruisk itself, “socialization” proceeded at a rapid pace, thanks to the work of the deputy in charge of the food, the well-known commissar Liokumovich. This commissar was a unique type of an old Jewish guy, with no soul, who lived only with one feeling of boundless hatred for the Jewish bourgeoisie and the Jewish public. And this snake warmed in the bosom of the Jewish public. For many years he worked at the YKA company. According to his political views, he was always an extreme Menshevik, but when the Bolsheviks approached the city, he suddenly became a communist and continued to work in the nutrition department, where he worked during the German occupation. The communists themselves did not trust him much and placed an inspector on him, a real communist, but Liokumovich remained the actual decision maker.

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This communist treated the population aggressively. He immediately nationalized all the cooperatives. The grocers were ordered to bring to him within twenty-four hours all the basic items, such as sugar, grits, soap, tobacco, matches, etc. When the tiny grocers, had little left of all their possessions except for a few pods of goods, came to him, and asked him to do them a favor, he dismissed them with a shout: “More than enough you have sucked our blood”.

By the way, he didn't even want to talk to any Jewish “Burzshoi”. On his desk hung a notice: “Workers and peasants are accepted outside the line”. The peasants from the villages knew how to take advantage of their right, and would push each of those standing in the line. He treated the peasants and workers with kindness, but as soon as he saw a person from another class, he would become enthusiastic and his body would tremble and shake. The order about the confiscation of the goods within twenty-four hours, was enforced by him with all its severity. A total of two warehouses were determined to receive the goods. The coachmen, who earned well in the recent years, realized that bringing these goods would be their last profit and demanded a high wage for each pod. Not all the grocers could pay such high transfer fees, therefore they harnessed themselves to small carts, loaded them with their few goods and took them to the “honesty table”. When they got there, they stood in line for many hours, until their few possessions were taken from them. Those who were late and did not bring their goods within twenty-four hours were severely punished. In this way, most of the shops in Bobruisk were closed, and trade went underground. New stores and warehouses were opened in secret in cellars, in stables, over piles of snow.

Some time had passed. The people somehow got used to the new situation. From the nearby towns, where life froze for a while, they began to travel to Bobruisk. Late at night they would load their carts with goods and sneak through side alleyways to the city. However, this did not last long: in the villages, “Kombids” (poor peasants' committees) were organized and these set up guards on the roads and confiscated everything they seized. Apart from the “Kombids”, Liokumovich set up guard battalions. Those who fell into their hands would receive, after their goods were confiscated, murderous beatings, and often were even banned. To the extent that the ban on bringing in and taking out goods was tightened and to the extent that the risk increased, the prices increased. In a short time, the price of salt rose from thirty rubles to six-seven hundred rubles, and recently they reached up to two thousand rubles per pod, without noticing that in the “port” of Bobruisk, close to a hundred thousand pods of salt were found. It was the same with the other products.

Winter passed and with it went the snow. The goods that were in the cargo boats disappeared. There were only a few dozen empty cargo boats and about ten steamers left, which had been largely neglected during the winter, although many workers were working on them, and it was necessary to send them in for a thorough repair. Among the workers of the ships were also their previous owners or managers, and they made sure that the repair was done properly. They began to repair with great desire “The Berezina Fleet”.

For now, the whole spring has passed and not even a single steamer was seen on the river.

In the summer of 1919, under the government of the Bolsheviks, the Berezina rested. Only rarely would a passenger ship (parochod) pass across the river.

The steamships (dumfshipen) also felt the days of freedom that came, and would often park. At first the ships were almost empty, and the number of employees exceeded the number of passengers, but it was immediately known that the steamships were a kind of country in themselves, and that something could be done with the commissars of the nationalized fleet. There was a severe shortage in the towns in those days, and many young men and old men boarded the ships. The roads to Ukraine were closed. The ships went as far as Parichi. They also traveled regularly on the small river section from Borisov to Bobruisk and engaged in trade. Now there would not be much trade in sugar, salt, and the like, as was last summer. This time the trade was summed up in a few pods of flour, potatoes, which would have been transported from the small towns to the big cities. The overcrowding on the ships was increasing, and things got to such a point that the ship's workers set up a special guard to repel the hundreds of passengers who crowded onto them.

It was a unique sight to see how a steamer loaded with passengers was slowly approaching one of the towns. The beach was full of people. Voices and shouts were heard. As the ship approached, the urges and outbursts increased. Armed guards would come out, shots were heard in the air. The crowd did not retreat, they pushed towards the ship, many dipped in the river water. However, they did not pay attention to this and continued to be pushed. The sailors would come and help bring up the rich, who carry more goods. The poor, with the packages of flour and potatoes, remained standing on the beach, and when the ship left the beach, a sound of crying was heard from a distance.

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The flow of passengers was particularly high in the towns of Jakšić-Saliva and Sislovitz. Jakšić-Saliva was a Jewish settlement. This town would make a nice impression. It had no crooked streets. Only one street passed along its entire length. Almost every house had a beautiful fruit garden and a vegetable garden. For that we must thank the YKA, which influenced them, with great effort, to agree to plant fruit gardens with installments for a long time.

Jewish fields and pastures stretch around the town, the whole town looked like a village. Only the houses were big, and they had big windows in the style of a big city. Some of the residents made livelihood only from trade and did not have their own land. There was even a special synagogue for merchants. Later many of the real farmers also started trading. Only in recent years did the whole town return to working the land and did good business. They had their own bread and even more than enough, as well as potatoes. The world did not freeze. From Bobruisk they started to travel to Saliva, and in Saliva they did not wait until the old men, boys, children and women came to them. They started going out to the river bank, and the armed guards had to withstand severe attacks from the people of Saliva with their sacks of potatoes and flour.

The same thing happened in Sislovitz, a small town, standing on a high mountain. Sislovitz was the closest town to Bobruisk, and there was also a lively trade there.

Summer has come to an end. And the Berezina River never dreamed of being a place of war again, like it was a hundred years ago. Nothing came out of all the preparations for war in 1915. They started digging trenches by the beach until they stopped. A good legacy has remained for the small towns from those days in the manner of the bridges they built across the river. In this way, they got rid of the ferries (paramen). In addition, the bridges were the best place to walk on.

But immediately, dark days came to the towns on the shores the Berezina River. They became a target of war, and the civil population suffered badly in them.

The Bolsheviks set fire to the bridges as they retreated, they were stopped on the other side of the river and started firing cannons. Death spread its wings over the towns. The residents hid in the basements, at the same time the houses and shops of the Jews were robbed and looted completely.

This is what happened in Berezin, Sislovitz and the like. Also, the big Borisov, Novo-Borisov and Bobruisk suffered a lot. The most difficult struggle took place near the cities, and the residents felt it well. The Jewish residents were abandoned, the rich towns on the shores of the Berezina became ruins.

Autumn has passed, winter has arrived. Chained in handcuffs the river stretched, but the bitter battles did not stop in the whole area. At that time, the cities and towns on the Berezina River felt for the first time more acutely all the suffering associated with the war.

Borisov became a dead city at this time. Near Borisov, the terrible struggle was going on between the “Reds” and the Polish army. During the exchange of fire, the well-known match factory, “Victoria”, caught fire and many other buildings and there were victims among the civilian population. The area was cut off from the world around it, and it goes without saying that all trade has stopped. During the riots, the shops were looted completely, and many of them remained closed to this day. There were many workers in Borisov, and with the destruction of industry, the lack of work grew day by day, and the shortage was horrible.

Also, the young town of Novo-Borisov with its factories and its sawmills was destroyed. Only recently some factories have started to work a little bit again; the great majority of them are closed, and they are stretched along the river and their operation is frozen, like the river itself. - -

Such was also the fate of the ancient great city Bobruisk: it was robbed and ruined. A large part of the shops was set on fire. The goods were stolen. For a while there was no contact with the surrounding towns. Even today it is an extremely rare thing. There is no supply of essential commodities, which were in great abundance in Bobruisk. The river rested in the summer, and the very little that was prepared for the winter was also robbed. Now only the cooperatives are working, which bring a little more goods.

The factories and sawmills are standing still. In the surrounding dense forests, the sound of the ax and the hoarse sound of the saw are not heard. They were dumbstruck, who knows for how long, by the shells and bullets of the heavy artillery…

More difficult is the situation of the small towns, which are often situated right on the river shore. Many months their residents did not see the light of day, they stayed in their homes, like the living dead. During this period, many victims fell among them, and even now, when the environment has calmed down and it is possible to go out, there is nothing to hold on to. The richest rural area remained on the other side of the “border”. It is impossible to reach him. The cost of living is higher. Indeed, there are a few people who take advantage of the situation and get rich, so to speak,

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but these are only a few. The majority suffer hunger and cold; there are terrible plagues there. Human shadows wander there depressed and despairing.

This is the situation in Berezin and Sislovitz. A short time ago, human blood was again spilled in these cities, and the population suffered great suffering.

There are several towns that have remained deserted, such as Dokshitz-Saliva, Pohust, Cherniavka. They are in the neutral zone and no government controls them. Sometimes they are visited by both sides, and each visit is bloody. The flourishing Jewish settlement Dokshitz-Saliva was destroyed. Many of its young people were shot dead. The houses were robbed. They took all the live inventory from the residents. Whole herds of cattle were taken. The same thing happened in Pohust. Many have cut themselves off from this hell that means collecting alms. The majority are forced to stay in their places, and starve to death due to the scarcity.

In this state of despair is the population of some cities and towns on the shores of the Berezina.

The Bolsheviks in the city

by David Shimoni

Translated by Mira Eckhaus

Edited by Erica S. Goldman-Brodie

It is not my intention in this chapter to talk about the brutal Bolshevik revolution in a typical Jewish city like my hometown, although there is a lot to tell about it. I was privileged to see two great revolutions at that time, the February Revolution (Kerensky Revolution) of 1917 in Petrograd and the October Seventeenth Revolution (Lenin Revolution) of the same year in Moscow. I watched them closely, very closely. I took in the air of their breath, I absorbed into my soul their voices and sub-voices, their colors and shades, with the many forms and transformations. These were huge symphonies in which rang out with enormous force all the sounds of the Russian soul of the individual and the general, of the past and the future, of the slave bursting from his master and the idealist seeking freedom, of the intoxication of revenge and the passion of justice, of the deep hatred from the abyss and the intense love from death. In this vast symphony vibrated, and sometimes even thundered, sounds not only of the Russian soul, but also of the souls of the other nations, large and small, that inhabited the huge kingdom. From the Crimean and Caucasus mountains to the Altai mountains, from the plains of Ukraine to the Siberian tundra, from the calm Don River to the White Sea, but the “chief defender” here was the Russian soul. But when the Bolshevist Revolution entered the boundaries of the Jewish city, in this case the boundaries of my hometown, I was given the opportunity to see the revolution even in a reduced form, in a small part of it , and also in its special tone, or – if I use the previous scene- I was allowed to hear the vast symphony not in its full scope, but only a tiny bit of it, performed by a modest orchestra, whose instruments also had a special melodic tone to them. I do not now intend to describe what happened then on the surface of the life of the Jewish city, let alone what agitated and simmered below the surface, what was bustling and seething in the depths. Surely there were different kinds of reactions. While the “homeowners”, that is, the merchants, the grocers, those engaged in the service of religion and the rest of the “unproductive elements”, feared and were anxious from the terror of the “days of judgment”, then the workers, and especially the young among them, were filled with hope and confidence, gathered strength and were proud. However, this division into two types, those who fear and those who are confident, is certainly quite superficial. There was also an intermediate class, and perhaps precisely with this intermediate class were those who, psychologically and mentally, aroused the most interest in me. Among the intermediate class were several of my acquaintances, that the great change did not cause them to fear for their lives. There was a change

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also in the course of their ideas, in their views. There were those for whom the change that took place in their souls was not perfect and was expressed in wandering, hesitations, considerations of pros and cons, and there were those for whom the storm of the revolution seemed to uproot them in a flash from their previous place, and in a flash also planted their uprooted roots in the depths of the new soil. It was as if they suddenly heard the steps of the Messiah, as if suddenly he appeared to them in all its splendor and their eyes saw “his majesty”… Hey, where are you, where are you, poor and dear Niska? This Niska (a shortcut from Nissan), a relative of mine, was a tiny and poor grocer, and on top of that, was also sickly. He was well-educated in his youth, but he differed in that, even when he reached middle age, he didn't stop meditating on books, and despite his continuous severe financial situation, his mind was always given to thoughts of reforming the world. He would come to our house often, especially on Shabbats and holidays, and he would immediately go to the bookcase and start reading while standing. But every now and then he would bring us a book or a pamphlet and he was all shining with joy: he had found a unique book! In particular, Balamy's socialist utopia, “After a hundred years”, made a tremendous impression on him. With the coming of the Bolsheviks, he knew well that his current bad situation would even worsen. After all, according to his profession he belongs to those who “eat and do nothing” (Oh, woe to this eating of his!), and according to his state of health he is not capable of any physical work. But why should he be troubled about his private situation if the whole world is now close to being reformed? Dear Niska! A few years later, when I was already living in the Land of Israel, you sent me very bitter letters on tattered pieces of paper, and I understood between the lines, that not only your physical condition was bad but also your mental situation, and then, suddenly your letters stopped coming …

And here I remember another person, my younger brother's friend, a guy who was about twenty years old, from “Tze'irei Zion”, a Hebrew teacher, innocent and enthusiastic, whose highest dream was immigrating to Israel, and suddenly – who do I see marching with all his strength in a festive parade of the Bolsheviks, with a huge red flag in his hands, dressed all in red clothes, from his shirt to his pants? I started laughing loudly at the sight of those red pants, but when I looked at his face, both serious and glowing, I immediately stopped laughing. No, there was no place to laugh here. It was clear to me that he did not wear the red pants to show off or boast, but to honor the Messiah, the red Messiah! I was told later (by his faithful friends), that the young man was completely instilled with a complete belief that the redemption of the world is coming, that the prophecy of the End of Days is being fulfilled, and because of that, we should no longer worry about the redemption of Israel, since the general redemption of the world includes also the redemption of Israel. There were different answers regarding the question of where he got the red pants, some were serious and some were joking but it's not important right now.

And here is the Agol family. The head of the family - a builder, an expert for building wooden houses and also a building contractor. A person over the age of fifty. He had two beautiful daughters, seamstresses, who were said to be very intelligent and energetic, and an only son, good-looking and well-educated, who has finished his studies at the high school, and was also a poet. He wrote his poems in Russian (the Hebrew he acquired in the “cheder” was very poor) and has also published a book, self-published, which testified to his talent. He served in the army, during the Kerensky revolution he was promoted to the rank of officer, and after the Bolshevik revolution he transferred to the Red Army. Even years ago, he would visit me every time he returned from abroad to visit our hometown. But then he expressed no interest in social and political questions - all his attention was in literature, and especially in poetry. A pure lyricist. He certainly did not find participation in his family any interest in his spiritual life. His father was a complete ignorant, and his beautiful sisters were also uneducated. I would bring him close and he had trusted me and felt affection to me. And when the Bolshevik battalions entered my town, he was also among them. After he learned that I was in town, he came to visit me. But he was already different: all burning with the fire of the revolution. He was very dumbfounded when he heard that my ambition is to immigrate to the Land of Israel as soon as possible. As if he wanted to say: “Hasn't the Messiah already come? Haven't all the borders between people been erased already? Is there even now a need for separation? Isn't the whole world going to become one country, one homeland, the homeland of all free people?” I had no doubts about the honesty of his intentions, the purity of his faith, but what surprised me was the great change that also occurred in his family. His father, who was, as already said, a complete ignorant and an affluent man, became an enthusiastic Bolshevik. But he was not satisfied with the change that occurred to him, he also began to spread the ideas abroad, to attract supporters for Bolshevism. And here, the talent of an orator was discovered in him, and he was elected the head of the Workers' Committee. The beautiful sisters also showed talents of propaganda and organization, and they too were appointed, or elected, to important positions in the Council of the Workers and Peasants, and over the short time,

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that the Bolsheviks stayed in my town at the time, they managed to do real deeds as well. Both daughters got married to Russian guys, but the father even surpass them: he, who was a widower, got married with the consent of his son and daughters, but his new wife was actually a Russian communist gentile who worked in the Ispolcom (the executive committee).

There is no doubt that despite all the negative attitude toward religion that Bolshevism displayed in all its appearances, especially in its beginnings, Bolshevism itself was imbued with religious ecstasy in its beginnings, and it radiated a kind of messianic exaltation to many of those who came into close contact with it, and also from the promiscuity and arbitrariness and corruption that the revolution was accompanied by, escaped sparks of intoxication in holiness, of madness in the surrender of the soul (albeit often the soul of another). One day a man named Axelrod appeared who was the head of the CKA (special commission) punishment delegation, and he came to cleanse the city and the surrounding area of all the harmful elements that are dangerous to the new regime and bring disgrace on the new society that “is being built with pains and purity”. I didn't know this Axelrod, I just saw him: a swarthy guy, short, dressed in Red Army uniform and fully armed from head to toe. I was told about him that he knows a chapter in the “Black Points”, because he once studied in yeshiva, and he was knowledgeable in Hebrew literature. And here one day early in the morning, suddenly a barrage of shots was fired, which lasted quite a while. It was later learned that by order of Axelrod, all the thieves and all the prostitutes who were recently banned, were brought to the polygon, that is the wide-open field between the city and the fort, and were executed there. Not according to any law or judgment, only according to the revolutionary conscience of Axelrod and his friends. “To purify the town and the surrounding area from everything… and so on…” And your camp will become pure …

At the beginning of the new regime

by Rachel Miron-Margolin

Translated by Mira Eckhaus

Edited by Erica S. Goldman-Brodie

They told my mother and my sister Zahava about it. The state of mind at that time was: “the punishment for performing such things could even be death sentence by shooting” … However, who were the communists who judge and manage matters? Guys who knew my mother well, who visited countless times in our store. My mother was known as an honest woman who pursues justice, helps the poor and lives a humble life of labor, while we were only “children”. My brother and I stayed in the prison for four days, he was apart, and I was with Russian girls, among them girls who were caught stealing. They put me on top of the stove, which was all swarming with bedbugs. In the prison were arrested rioters and thieves from the peasantry and Jews who commit “financial crimes” regarding their own stores. No one was brought out to the yard, the prisoners sat idly and played cards, the Russian rioters poured buckets of sewage and water on the Jews.

Before we were released, we were called to the Politburo in Bobruisk. They asked us what were we accused of, and we - two scared children - answered: stealing from a store sealed with the seal of the authority. Our judges laughed: after all, they knew that the goods were ours, they read our indictment and sent us home escorted by a policeman.

The Bolsheviks came to Bobruisk as rescuers. Previously, Polish legionnaires stayed in the town, and they behaved completely like rioters. They even threatened to burn the town before their departure.

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The hatred towards them was great, and when the Bolsheviks entered the town, the Jews welcomed them with bread and salt. The poor were happy, the youth rejoiced. Only the rich sighed, and that too - secretly. No one knew yet what the nature of the regime was, what lay ahead of us. In fact, we have seen more Jewish boys and girls representing the Russian Revolution, full of confidence, leading new orders, have authority, and consider Bobruisk as their personal property. Their intentions were good. They were all innocent and honest, devoted with all their hearts to the revolution and its ideals. But very quickly new spirits began to emerge. The feeling that Bobruisk belongs to the Jews who were born there, who are now kosher communists, among them talented and educated people, who only demand good for their hometown, disappeared. At that time, I was already on my way to Eretz Israel.

The Poles in Bobruisk

by David Shimoni

Translated by Mira Eckhaus

Edited by Erica S. Goldman-Brodie

[Page 704]

beards, the great ones were engaged in beheading. Anyone who was suspected of being in contact with the Bolsheviks was banned, tortured and executed. An entire family, that one of its sons escaped with the Red Army, was completely killed due to this escape, along with all its elders, women and children. No! If I didn't have a great affection for the Poles since my childhood, then this year, in which I was under the “protection” of the Polish “occupation”, did not strengthen my sympathy for them at all.

In the Days of the Polish Occupation

by Shimon Agin

Translated by Mira Eckhaus

Edited by Erica S. Goldman-Brodie

Whispers of the arrival of the Polish army spread through the Jewish residents of the town a few days before their entry, in the summer of 1919. The army advanced through Minsk and camped for a short time around the Jewish and Christian cemeteries. Several shells were fired at the town. One hit near the intersection of Minskaya and Semyonovskaya streets and left a deep ditch without causing any damage. Nearby, Polish soldiers, infantry, cavalry and artillery were already marching, and were deployed in all parts of the city.

The Jews locked themselves in their houses until they finally dared to go out to the street and their businesses. Oppression and persecution have come upon us. A Jew with a beard was afraid to cross the street lest his beard be cut off with a razor, blunt knife or scissors. The girls were careful not to go out in the evening, so that the soldiers would not harass them.

The authorities began to purge the “nests of the Bolsheviks”. About ten Russian and Jewish teenagers were shot in the fortress and buried in it.

The pioneers' training garden Azov was abandoned of its employees and its pioneers. They were suspected of communism. Go and explain to them the purpose of the training and its reasoning. The director of the garden, the gardener Hillel, was caught. They forced him to dig a grave for himself and he was put into it while he was standing up. The pit was covered with earth and only his head was visible out of the dirt. Some neighboring gentiles begged for his life in front of the soldiers until they left him.

The Zionists managed to establish ties with the military authorities and tried to explain, claim and demand the existence of regular government. The Zionist cooperatives resumed their activity. The first on Skovlivskaya Street, next to Dr. Pruzhinin's house, and the second further down the same street, next to Irgar's trading house.

Connections with the wider world are being renewed, visits by Zionist leaders as well as writers took place frequently. Abba Ahimeir, the poet David Shimoni and Lipman Levinson infused a great spirit of activism and brought a lot of news about what was happening in the Land of Israel.

The time was approaching for the departure of the members of the “HeChalutz”, who were mainly concentrated around the training garden, which has resumed its work. The occupation was nearing its end and they managed to leave shortly before the departure of the Polish army.

The last days of Polish government were days of terrible terror, the memory of which will not be erased. The retreat lasted three days and three nights. The Poles were marching on Shusinaya Street towards Slutsk-Brisk of Lithuania, the rear guard scattered in the streets of the town for purposes of robbery, rape and looting, and for pure and simple intimidation.

The windows of the houses were closed with bolts. On the last night, the soldiers set fire to several houses in all parts of the town. The flames burst into the sky and the town was lighted as if it was the middle of the day. Smoke, torches and sparks were carried from street to street and the fire spread from house to house, especially in the neighborhoods of the wooden houses. The fear of the fire forced the residents to leave their homes, but crowding outside involved mortal danger and it was difficult to decide what to choose. Thousands of people and children dressed in sleeping clothes were hiding in the courtyards of the houses. Out of the survival instinct, “Help!” shouts were heard. To whom were the shouts addressed? However, one single call was followed by other calls and all the calls joined to one great cry of devastation “Help!” (Ratevet!)

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that was rising up. “Heaven, ask for mercy” – “Ratevet!” The voices become one unceasing scream: “Ratevet!” Everything became one horrifying horror. It was a night of horrors.

Meanwhile, red soldiers were already walking on the bridge of the Berezina River. They were barefoot. They were hungry. They were almost unarmed. Why did the Poles retreat and these came instead? It is a riddle for everyone. But at least, the Polish nightmare ended.

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