[Pages 382-384]

In September 1939, the Germans issued an order under a death threat that all Jews had to leave the city and march in the direction of the San River. The order allowed one to take 100 zlotys and a small pack of belongings. The Jews left, some by food and some by hired carriages in the direction of Jaroslaw.

At six o'clock in the morning, all the Jewish people had to report in the place. The better dressed people, mostly the intelligentsia, were beaten by the Gestapo men. Frightened Jews dispersed wherever they could. In the place of the gathering, the Jews were told that by one o'clock they had to leave the city. The Poles pointed out the Jews in the streets and directed the Germans to Jewish homes. The elective committee was ordered that a Star of David should be displayed on every Jewish home. Many marched in the direction of the San River but others dispersed throughout the nearby villages, thinking that the storm would pass and that they would be able to return home.

My family and I decided to stay at home, but the next day, three Gestapo men and a Pole came and threatened that they would kill us if we didn't leave the house within an hour. The family hired a carriage from a peasant and left for Husow. On the way, we were attacked by gentiles who attempted to rob us. We screamed and were saved.

In Husow, we met people that we knew. We paid the peasant and remained in Husow. After eight days, the gentiles summoned the Gestapo, which arrived at night. The Gestapo men beat up the Jewish men and told them to leave immediately the village. My family, together with other Jews, returned to Lancut. The home had already been looted. The same day, an order was issued that the remaining Jews would be permitted to stay in the city but that they would have to register.

First came the demand from the city council; later, through the Jewish elective committee, that from every household, one person had to come to work. Sweeping the streets, scrubbing floors, cleaning military camps and offices. Winter time, they swept the snow from the streets. The previous street sweepers were made the overseers over the Jews. Many of them tortured the Jews and beat up the menfolk. During the winter, raids occurred.

After the outbreak of the Soviet-German war, many Jews had returned from the other side of the San River. They were required to register and deposit a hundred zlotys per person bail. The Mayor, Bonnek, asked that what kind of job did they do on the Soviet side, if they were “Commissars?”. The people were kept separate.

During one frosty morning, Gestapo people came from Jaroslaw. They arrested people in the streets and from the working places. They selected 24 people, women and men and kept them imprisoned for several months. Then, one night, they were taken to the cemetery and killed. One man and a woman managed to survive. The wounded woman was treated at the Rzeszow hospital. The Gestapo found out about her and shot her in the cemetery of Rzeszow. The man survived. The Gestapo people searched for them in Lancut. They ordered the exhumation of the victims but the count was right because, in the meantime, two more victims were shot, also a man and a woman.

The Jews lived in their homes during the entire time of the occupation until the liquidation. There was no ghetto in Lancut. It was forbidden to leave the city, to buy and sell under the threat of being shot. More often, they entered Jewish homes which always had a fatal ending.

My brother-in-law was arrested because they found a gun which Nowak, a Pole, had planted there. He later reported him to the Gestapo. But the truth was found out and he was released. Afterwards, he was forced to search the Pole's house to check if he had any weapons. After bribing the Gestapo, the matter was settled.

A decree was issued in that all persons over eighteen had to go to work. They grabbed people in the marketplace and on the highways. They were put to work for German companies. The German overseers beat the workers, especially those that they had developed a dislike.

In July 25, 1942, all identifications were stamped in the gymnasium court. Sitting at a table were Gestapo people, clerks and members of the Juden Rat.

The chairman of the Juden Rat, Reuven Nadel, brought an order from Jarsolaw that on Monday, August 3^rd, 1942, all the Jews had to assemble in the gymnasium courtyard and from there, they would be sent to Pelinia, a place between Przeworks and Jaroslaw. Soon, almost the entire Jewish population in Lancut were on their way with their baggage, some by foot and some by carriage. My mother went to the place, but the rest of the family decided to survive on their own.

After a few days, the Germans announced that those that had not left on August 3^rd to Pelkinia, could do so on August 7^th. In Pelkinia, the people who came first were loaded onto trucks, taken to the forest where they were thrown into previously dug pits. They were covered with calcite and covered with dirt. The “earth was rising up and down”. Some people were executed and my mother was among them. A witness to this scene was my cousin, Alex Hauzerman.

Fifty young people were sent back to Lancut and among them was A. Hauzerman. They were allowed to live freely and go to work. Encouraged by their return, many Jewish people crawled out from their hiding places. However, there were the Poles that pointed them out and they were shot in the street.

I went away to a village. I stayed one night with a peasant that I knew. Daytime, I was hiding in a potato field. The next night, I spent in a farm and a few days I hid in a tall corn field. I stayed on the woman's farm for twelve days but when I heard that searches were being conducted, I left the farm and hid in the corn field where I heard shots coming from the nearby cemetery. During the night, I lay in the potato field, and at the end, I had to go back to the farm but the owner told me that I had to bring my belongings first.

I went back to Lancut where I met my sister with my other sister's two children. They were hiding in a storage room of a certain woman, the wife of a councilman that was holding our things for safekeeping. Afterwards, I returned to the village but had to return back to the city when I found out that the Gestapo had taken away the two children.

In the City Councilmen's house, I found out the bitter truth. It happened on October, 1942. At the same time, our maid, Rybakowa called the Gestapo about me because I had refused to give her my belongings. Nonetheless, I managed to escape.

My sister's children, Nunia Kleinberg who was nine-years old and Manusia Kleinberg, seven-years old, were murdered on October 12^th, 1942. The children were hiding in an open stable at the house that their parents had previously owned. They were starving. Their aunt, Esther Landau, would bring them food from time-to-time, whatever she could in the gardens. At the time when the children were taken, she just happened to be out searching for food.

The maid Rybakowa, had sent her twelve-year old son and the baker's twelve-year old son to summon the Gestapo people to the hiding place of the children.

According to the testimony of a trustworthy witness, (who is no longer alive), and who was present during the interrogation of the children which lasted from four o'clock in the morning until one o'clock in the afternoon. The children did not betray their aunt, nor other Jews. They were taken to the cemetery. On the way, the Gestapo man consoled the girl and told her not to cry and that she would soon meet her daddy and mommy and also her aunt! He gave them candies. The children refused to enter the cemetery gates, so he told them again to tell the truth. The children were mum. They then began kicking and beating them. In the cemetery, he told them to go into the bushes where he shot them. First the girl, who received four bullets and the boy, three bullets. Their remains were thrown to the wild beasts in the circus that just to be performing in Lancut.

Rybakowa, her son and baker's son are alive and continue to live in Lancut. They were infamous for being paid fifty zlotys for a Jewish head.

With the Star of David armband on their sleeves in 1942 From right: Anmut, Hinda Gerstin, Zawada and Bronia Shusheim

On the eve of the Sukkoth Holiday, the Germans ordered all Jewish men to assemble in the courtyard of the District Governor's home at eight o'clock in the morning.

The assembled were received with murderous beatings. The Germans told the Jews that by four o'clock in the afternoon, all the Jewish people had to leave Lancut. No more than a hundred zlotys was allowed to take with them. The Jews were forced to crawl on all fours through a narrow gate. Gestapo men and Hitler youths armed with sticks and blackjacks, stepped on the people and murderously assaulted them. The noise of automobiles deafened the screaming of the beaten victims.

Shorty afterwards Leibish Wiener came to my house with his brother-in-law, Wolf Kneller, bloodied and frightened and suggested that we leave immediately together with the families to the other side of the River San, which, at that time, became the border with Russia. We obtained a horse draw carriage and took with us my family and my wife's family.

At the last minute, my grandfather, Zelig Langzam, who was close to ninety-years of age, changed his mind and decided not to travel at his old age. My mother did not go with either. She stayed with five of my brothers, and my wife's grandmother, Leah Wiener. My father, a sister and I and the Wiener family with Leibish Shifer's wife and children left.

Leah Wiener

Well, we crossed the San River and my mother with our brothers remained in Lancut. At the end of 1939, I smuggled to the border and back to Lancut to say farewell to my mother and brothers because, when I left the house, being distraught, I had forgotten to say goodbye to them. I begged them to come with me and they responded: “When something will happen, we will all come”. At that time, I had planned to get married because my wife, at the time my fiancée, was on the other side. I wanted, therefore, that my beloved mother and brothers should bless me before entering under the Hupah (wedding canopy).

In the evening, I passed by the market place and everything was deathly. It resembled a cemetery. Only a few families had remained in Lancut. I recall one more incident. In the evening, my brother-in-law, Joshua and I walked home. About thirty metres ahead of us, my brother Joseph was walking. He was twelve-years old. A little sheigetz (Gentile boy) ran into him and threw him to the ground. He beat him and tried to search his pockets to take from him whatever he had. We ran over and yelled at him. The boy, wondering asked us: “You defending a Jew?” I suddenly heard screaming from a window: “Don't be afraid, they are also Jews”. This was Lasota, a leader of the “Sokol” (a reactionary party).

My brother fed my family by bringing flour from Rzeszow to Lancut. Until someone had reported him, he was arrested and sent to the Lancut jail. That was the beginning of the annihilation of my close family by the German murderers.

My two young brothers, Leibish and Yitzhak carried food to my brother in prison. They were taken to the courthouse and shot. I was told about it by a clerk and a judge who were witnesses to the execution.

After my brother was released from jail, he built a bunker near the house where they were hiding with my family and the Rothfeld family from Krakow. An uncle, his wife and seven children. Once my grandfather went outside and was seen by the Folks Deutsche Kokot. The grandfather began to run and hide, and they could not find him. Then a Polish woman came and pointed out his hiding place and he was shot.

In the meantime, my mother gave the house to a neighbour by the name of Kunish and in return, he was supposed to support her with food in the bunker. He later changed his mind. He blocked the bunker and ran to summon the police. When the people inside the bunker saw that it was blocked, they broke out some boards and began to run. In the meantime, the police organized the worker from Potocki's estate, and they began chasing after the people. It looked like a hunting expedition of wild beasts. At that time, they killed the Rothfeld family from Krakow. Only one daughter, Rosa survived. (She lives in Israel). My mother and three brothers also escaped and survived.

From there, they escaped to the Dombrowka forest and contacted the partisans and stayed with them until 1944. In the meantime, the partisans left and they stayed in the forest. More than often, they went to the village and whatever they had, the bartered away for a little food.

In April, 1944, a short time before the Russians entered Lancut, they left the forest and hid in a barn with hay. A goose flet their presence and began making noise and a Polish woman saw them. She ran to the elder of the village and told him about the people. He told her that he was not a Gestapo and advised her to go back and tell the people to leave.

In the meantime, she met the commandant of the local watchmen, Bobko from Dombrowka, and told him about the people. He put a guard until the morning.

Early in the morning, the Gestapo came with Kokot leading. They first dragged my mother out. They found on her some flat bread so they began to beat her demanding to know from where she got the bread. (The German had issued an order that whoever would help a Jew, his entire family would be killed). My mother refused to say anything. Brother David could not stand by seeing the murderous beating of his mother. He jumped out and attacked Kokot, the murderer. He threw him to the ground and began to chock him. Another Gestapo man ran to him and smashed his head.

Afterwards, they dragged out the second brother, Joseph and shot him and the mother. When the Gestapo people were about to leave, my youngest brother Shmuel, seeing that they were killed, told the murderers: “You killed my dear mother and brother. Kill me too”. They let him run and gave a salvo of bullets to his legs. He still moved with his hands. They then gave a second salvo but he still moved his head, so they finished him off with a third salvo. All this took place whilst the Poles looked on.

When I came back from Russia, I took upon me the holy task to give them a Jewish burial. But the situation was a such that Jews did not dare to come into the area. The police had warned me about it because the Poles were killing the Jews. Ignoring the warning, I rented a truck in Krakow where I lived and took Shmuel Felber and weapons with me. (Shmuel Felber lives in Bnai Berak).

We came to the village where I knew many Poles, but they refused to talk to me. They looked at me like some kind of a monster from another world. They thought that all the Jews were dead. They ran away from me like from a contagious disease.

I finally found out the unbelievable. I met the owner of the house and demanded from her to show me where the grave was. After threats and screams, she pointed out the place near the house in the nearby corn field. That is where my dearest in my life, my holy mother and brothers were resting.

In the meantime, the local Poles had assembled with angry faces, just like animals. I didn't care. I began to dig up the grave. One of the greatest village bandits, who was well known in Lancut, his name was Janctszura, came over and asked me why I was ruining the corn field? I asked him if he came to help me or he wanted to be buried in that grave together with dear ones. He thought for a while and replied that he wanted to help me. He pinpointed exactly the place where they were buried, because he had buried them. The grave was three metres deep.

When I opened the grave, I found my mother laying on top with spread arms, protecting her children, even after death. She wore my father's Sabbath silk overcoat. Under her was my youngest brother Shmuel, his body intact, only where the bullet had hit him, the body was burned. The third body was my brother Joseph and at the bottom, was brother David with the smashed head. The bodies were still in good state because it was sandy ground. I brought them to Krakow for a Jewish burial. Later, they brought the body of Zelig Kerne, and he was buried next to them. That is how my beloved perished for the sanctification of the Holy Name by the German murderers.

Exhumation of Jewish martyrs that were shot and buried in different places

Together with the little towns and cities in Poland, the Jewish Lancut was destroyed by the German murderous hands. The only thing that was left, which was of evidence that in the “past” there was an effervescent Jewish life, was the synagogue and the Beit Hamidrash, which miraculously were left intact. As soon as the German army entered Lancut, a hellish life had begun for the Jewish population. On the eve of the Sukkoth Holiday, the German murderers hung up a proclamation with an order that all Jewish men had to assemble in the courtyard of the District Governor's house. With heavy hearts and bowed heads, the Jews came to the gathering point with a premonition that something was about to happen to them. They didn't have to wait too long. On the way to the gathering point, they were met by armed German murderers that violently beat the Jews. That is how the rampant Germans had, in a few hours, managed to show their sadistic wildness in the ugliest way.

On the same day when the people had no chance to calm down from the first pogrom, the German gendarmes issued an order that by that evening, all Jews had to leave Lancut. In the above order, it was said that any Jews that would be found the next day in the city would be shot. With tears and panic, all the Jewish people left the city and went to the other side of the San River. All this took place on the Eve of Sukkoth Holiday, 1939. On the other side of the San River was the Soviet army, with no sign of a German face. The people of Lancut dispersed throughout the cities in Eastern Galicia and Wohlin areas. If we had prophets at that time, they would have told us that the expulsion was a blessing in disguise and would have urged us not to even think about returning to Lancut. However, to our great regret, many of the Lancut people did not resign themselves to the destiny of becoming wanderers. As soon as the situation had calmed down, many people from Lancut quietly and stealthily, smuggled themselves back into their own homes and hoped that they would be left to live in peace. They all tragically perished with great tribulations. All the people from Lancut who were on the Russian side in Eastern Galicia and Wohlin areas were all sent by the Red army to the interior of Russia, which later appeared to be a blessing. They all survived. This way, a part of the Lancut Jewry was saved.

The majority of the Lancut Jewry perished in a tragic way. As soon as the Germans came to Lancut, they immediately began persecuting the Jews. But the worst part began with the outbreak of the Soviet-German War. From 22^nd June, 1941, Jewish life was overtaken by lawlessness. The German killed daily Jews in the streets. Going out into the street was life threatening. That is why Jews did not go outside. They then were dragged out of their homes and killed. This was the tragic situation until the month of Av., 1942. On that date, all the Lancut Jews were transferred from Lancut to Pelinia, near Jaroslaw where they were shot in a brutal way.

At the last moments of the liquidation of the Lancut Jewry, many escaped to the fields and villages and hid with peasants. Many went into the forests. They had hoped that after the world would find out about the barbarism, their conscience would move and they would try to stop the wild murder. With this hope, the people of Lancut lay in hiding and hoped to survive the horrible days. However, the conscience of the world remained deaf and mum. Days, months and years had passed. Gradually, the hidden Jews were murdered. First the gentiles took away their money and when there was no more money, the killed the Jews. They were also afraid to let the Jews out in case they would tell the Germans where they had found shelter. But the majority of the Lancut Jews perished in the hands of Kokot, the henchman of the Lancut Jewry.

I would like to remember here my father, Reb Tzvi Shlomo, of blessed memory, who passed away in Koszin on the 15^th day of Marcheshwan, 1938. I also want to recall the memory of my mother, Tovah Frider, may God avenge her innocent blood. My two sisters, Brandel and Ita and all the other Jews that perished at the same time.

The perished in a tragic way. Ita, my sister, was hiding with a group of Jews in a forest in Rogozno (Rogozno Forests). Every day, two people went out to bring some food. One time, it was my sister's turn. She went out with Pinchos Milrad. On the way back, they were caught and shot in the village of Koszi.

When the rest of the group in the forest heard that they were shot, they understood that the Gestapo would surround the forest, and they all dispersed. My mother, with my other sister, Brandel, also escaped. They were caught in Bialobrzeg, somewhere near the Wisloka River. When my mother was already in the German gendarme's hands and saw that she would be shot, she begged the murderers to be shot first and not see how her child would be killed. The murderers refused and in spite of her pleading, they shot her daughter, the young blossoming Brandel first. May the Almighty avenge her innocent blood. The heart of a mother could not stand it and she fell dead on the body of her daughter before she was murdered by a bullet. Tova, the daughter of Naphtali, may God avenge her innocent blood.

I also want to memorialize here my beloved brother David and my sister-in-law, Tzpora and their two children from Lizhensk, my dear sister Molly and my brother-in-law, Berci Beller with their three children from Przeworsk. They all perished on the altar of the sanctification of the Holy Name in Belzec.

A fragment of a street in Lancut

Revenge for blood of a small child has not been invented yet by Satan.

Chaim Nachman Bialik

Saturday afternoon, August 1^st, 1942, the Lancut Jewish Community received an order from the Jaroslaw Gestapo that on Monday at seven o'clock in the morning, everybody had to assemble in the marketplace in order to leave their homes and the city and be on their way to their deaths. The place of annihilation of the Jews of Lancut and vicinity, was Pelkinia located between Przeworsk and Jaroslaw.

In the marketplace, trucks and carriages were ready to transfer the people. The Jews were beaten with rubber truncheons and were rushed to board faster the trucks and carriages. Some people had hired with their own money carriages to travel to Pelkinia to the place that was designated where they should die. Shots were heard and hollering Gestapo men who rode around on horses. Ahead of them, dogs and Poles were running around, pointing out Jewish homes, despite the fact that it was unnecessary since every Jewish home had a Star of David drawn by the Jewish community leaders. Some Poles chased out the Jews on their own in order to hasten up the benefits of the Jewish misfortune. Others were busy bringing Gestapo men to Jewish homes, accusing some Jews that were trying to hide. Those people who were caught hiding were mercilessly and murderously assaulted and, in many cases, shot on the spot.

During that horror-filled day, one of the homes on Slowacki Street had been overtaken by horrible despair. Everything in the house was turned up-side-down. The mother of the family could not witness the pain of her daughter, Chana, a young mother. So, she took the youngest grandson, Avromk'e, an eight-month-old baby, and left the house. She went outside in the garden, sat on a big rock and hugged the little one to her heart, a baby that was convicted by the Germans to die. Chana had two more children; a nine-year old boy, Natank'e and seven-year-old girl, Manusia. Manusia had black locks that framed her black, picturesque beautiful eyes, a funny little nose and lips which, when she opened them, looked like a red rose. During her sweet smile, her exposed white teeth were clear like a pearl. Both her cheeks were adorned with dimples. The features of her face were delicate and beautiful, like the work of a great artist.

Chana was lying on the bed covered with a pillow and chocking with tears, refusing to show her mother and husband her pain. The wretched husband yelled in despair: “let them tear my heart out from my body and let my wife and children live”. By saying these words, he kept hitting his head against the wall. At the same time, their Polish neighbours were immersed in an argument outside. Everyone was anxious for a larger share of the Jewish misfortune.

Such was the scene in every Jewish home. Not being able to watch the trouble in the family, Natank'e grabbed the hand of his sister Mania and took her out from the house, telling Mania the following words: “Mania! You are so pale, are you feeling sick? Are you hurting?” Hearing these words, she lowered her eyes and began to cry. “No! I am not sick”, she responded. “Don't cry Mania” the boy begged his beloved sister but he himself began to cry, tears like pearls, one after the other were rolling down his face. Suddenly, the girl raised her head and said:

“Natanke! The aunt Esther has arrived, let's go back in the house”.

Yesterday, Esther went to the village in search of a place in a farm to hide. At her appearance, Esther's mother went back in the house. With great regret, Esther painfully declared: “Not a spark of hope have I found anywhere. No one wants us with the children. But no matter what, I am not going to the place of death. I will go, wherever my eyes will take me, but not to that place. One owner promised to keep me for a few days, so I will take him up on it”.

When the girl heard what she had said, she raised her eyes and said: “Auntie! Auntie! Take me with you. What will happen to you will happen to me. But take me with you”. Esther could not look into the little martyred eyes, and after a while she said: “Fine. I am taking you with me. Let it be like you said. What will happen to me will also happen to you”. Saying this, Esther burst out crying and everyone in the house joined in and began to bitterly cry. Esther started preparing and within an hour, she was ready for the complicated journey. “Maniusia”, she said to the girl. “Go say goodbye to your father and mother and everyone else”. When the little girl heard what the aunt told her to do, she turned to the wall, took out her handkerchief from her coat, and with pain-filled voice declared: “No! No! I cannot say goodbye to everyone for the last time!”

When she saw everybody's sadness, she went over to her little brother who was on the floor screaming: “Baba! Baba!” raising his arms to be picked up. The girl went over and kissed his head, turning to Esther, she said with a chocking voice: “Let's go Auntie”.

After Esther and the girl left the house, both mothers went to the gate and watched them leave until they disappeared from their eyes. The mother of the family decided to go alone to Pelkinia. She had no other way. She prepared underwear and a dress for her own funeral, and at the time when she went to wash herself, the Polish neighbours stole her outfit and she had nothing to change into because everything had already been stolen.

Chana, her husband and the rest of the children, two boys, decided to go to the forest. The younger daughter, Rivka, stealthily at night, went away with a few boys and girls that were expelled from Lodz and Kalisz, and later resided in Lancut.

Chana, her husband and the children spent a few days in the forest and after days filled with bitter experience, they were attacked by the Polish forester and were forced, during the night, to return to the city.

Friday, August 7^th. They decided to go to Pelkinia, because even without the children, it was hard to hide. The decision was made unanimously. When they were boarding a carriage which they had hired with their own money, Natank'e raised his arms and pleaded: “I am very scared to go to the place. I will stay near our house and hide. You have heard what the neighbours have said, that I should stay and they would help me and give me food”. The parents agreed thinking that maybe the neighbours had meant it. The closest neighbour, Pelcowa, who were given valuable things, had promised to take care of him. It was hard for the wretched parents to separate from their second child. They took with them to Pelkinia, the third child to a sure death.

After the separation from the family, Esther, with the little girl, went to the village to a farmer in Kszemienice, where they stayed a week. One day, the farmer to Esther to leave and told her that fifty young men were sent back from Pelkinia to Lancut and that they were living peacefully in Jewish homes. Regrettably, it was only a conniving trick from the murderers with the intention to cause many Jews to come back from their hiding places, thinking that the danger was over. In the meantime, all the people that had come out from their hiding places, returned to the city and were shot in the streets or dragged to the cemetery and murdered there.

Esther, with the little girl, secretly came into town. She went into the garden near her house which was vacant. She stealthily went into the house of Pelcowa, her neighbour. When she saw Esther and the girl, she wrung her hands and looked at her as though she had leprose. She remained standing a few steps away as if being afraid not to get infected with a contagious disease.

“You are still alive?” the poisonous snake wondered. “That is all that I needed now! If you do not leave immediately and take with the little Jew (she meant Natank'e), I will hand you over to the Gestapo.

After Esther heard what the woman said to her, she asked: “Where is our child?” She did not know that Natank'e was left alone. “He is in the attic of your house”. The child that had always been pampered, was now fighting for his life alone. “O my God!” Esther sighed and climbed up to the attic where the little orphan was hiding. When Esther and the little girl went up to the attic, she found Natank'e washing his own shirt. He was so busy doing it that he did not hear them come. Esther called out to him and put her hand on his head. He was trembling with fright, seeing who was standing in front of him, he almost fell to the ground with joy. “Auntie! Auntie! Don't leave me. I cannot be alone anymore”.

Esther put her two hands on the heads of her sister's children and inwardly swore she would not abandon the children and would fight for their lives as well as her own and share with them the destiny, whatever it would be.

“Natank'e, are you hungry? Did the neighbours feed you?” Esther inquired. This morning, Natank'e told her, “I was hungry because the neighbours refused to give me anything. They even threatened me not to come to them because they would hand me over to the Germans. But I was so hungry, so I found the mother's dress and went into the street and gave it to a woman for a piece of bread and cucumber”. He pointed to a rotten cucumber, “I found in the garden”. I already ate half of the bread and the rest I saved for later”.

Esther took the children because she was afraid to stay there, if the neighbours would betray her. She went back to the village with reliance only on God.

When Esther walked in the fields with the children, she noticed three Polish youngsters riding on bicycles. The Poles approached and remained standing close by. One yelled out, “Jews! You are still alive? You probably still have dollars? You are going to die anyway, so give us everything you have, quick! If not, we will hand you over to the Gestapo”.

Listening to their demand, Esther was stunned. She understood that begging for mercy would not help. Esther looked at the children who were standing next to her. Amazed, she heard the little children ask the bandits for kindness. From where did they find such warm words? Was it an inner intuition and urge to survive that told them what to say? Suddenly, she saw that the girl unbuttoned her coat and with her warm hands, took of a medallion with a chain that she wore on her neck. She raised her little hands high with the medallion: “Take it please. This is my only reminder of my mother that no longer lives. She gave it to me on my birthday. We have nothing else. Take it and let us go!” Saying these words, warm tears were flowing down her face.

At that moment, a peasant woman came and seeing the scene she said: “How can you be so heartless? Let them go! They are innocent children!”

The bandits left Esther and the children, but they took the medallion. When the boys had left, the woman was standing in front of the little girl and was charmed by her beauty. “What a beautiful girl!” she proclaimed with admiration. “I don't have any children. I wouldn't mind taking the girl with me to be my child. My brother is a priest. He would baptize her and she might become a pious Christian”. When the woman stopped talking, the children looked at their aunt with their sad eyes. Esther asked: “Mania, do you agree to go with this lade and live a free life? «Mania dropped her beautiful eyebrows and with a chocking voice responded: “Auntie! Auntie! I don't want to. To save my own life I would have to leave you? Auntie! No! Please do not agree that I should go away from you. I rather perish together with you, than to go away from you”. When she saw that her aunt was silent, she went to her brother: “Natank'e! Beg the aunt not to give me away”.

The children cried and begged and the woman did not wait for an answer but left. Esther and the children found a place in the village of Lukawice on a farm. They hid in the straw, under the roof and were happy. Three weeks had passed and the owner had not thrown them out.

One time, a grandchild of the owner came to play with the children – a girl of Mania's age. And as usual, Esther removed a shingle from the roof to watch that no danger was approaching. Suddenly, lo and behold! Four Gestapo men and three Polish policemen came into the farmer's house.

“Children! We are list!” Esther announced with a despairing voice. She hid the children in the straw and she herself managed to cover herself with a bundle of straw. Soon she heard the approaching steps and saw through a crevice in the straw, the helmet on the head of a German.

However, a misfortune with a fortune happened at the same time. It was destined that at the entrance to the attic, there were pears wrapped up in newspapers which the farmer's son had left. The Gestapo man, seeing the pears, took them away and went down from the attic to treat his colleagues. In the meantime, Esther had a chance to cover herself better. The German returned to the attic. He had already put one foot on the bundle of straw under which Esther was hiding. Would he had put another foot on the bundle, he would have noticed Esther. At that moment, the other German down below yelled: “Come on down, there is nobody there in the attic. By now they have already run away through the field into the woods”.

And that is what happened. The farmer's sons slaughtered a pig and sold it for a very high price, for which the penalty was death. The Germans with the Polish policemen came to arrest the farmer's sons. When the sons saw, through the window, the arrival of the Gestapo, they escaped through the fields into the woods. And thanks to this incident, Esther, with the children, were saved. However, after a few hours, the farmer chased them out, afraid that the Germans might return within a few days.

Esther, with the children, hid for a few days in the bushes at the bank of the Wisloka River. At night she spread her coat on the ground for the children so they could rest and when they fell asleep, she sat there and chased mosquitoes away so the children could sleep peacefully. After a few days, they left the place and went into the fields. The poor children suffered for several days with nothing to eat or drink. They drank dirty water. Starved and emaciated, they could no longer stand on their feet.

Natank'e, seeing his sister suffering and languishing from starvation, decided to go, on his own, to buy something to eat and drink. Esther gave him five zlotys and the child left. An hour passed, and another, and the boy had not returned. Scared, Esther went to look for the boy leaving the girl alone. She suddenly heard Natank's calling. The frightened boy, instead of going straight, he had gone left on the path. “Auntie! Auntie” the boy called in despair. He held a bottle of milk and a few cooked blackened potatoes. When the boy saw his aunt, his happiness was so great that he dropped the bottle of milk, but some of it remained in the bottle for the girl.

Esther was afraid that the people that had sold him the milk might tell someone that there were Jews nearby. She and the children left the area and wandered off in an unfamiliar direction. After a short distance, a Polish woman blocked their path and looked at them with a hostile glimpse and yelled! “Jews! Jews! You are wearing such a good coat. Give me the coat in exchange for a rag that will last you until the grave”.

Esther was afraid of the woman's revenge and they hid in the potato field. The next morning, they went on the road leading to the city. Suddenly, Natank'e said: “Auntie, look. They are chasing after us with bicycles!”

Esther carried the children to the other side of the creek. First the girl and then the boy. There were big swamps and that is how they managed to escape once again. When the reached the suburbia of the city, Esther stealthily with the kids, went into an unfinished two-story building and hid between the joists and the roof until the owner of the house noticed them. One day, he threatened to report them to the Gestapo if they would not leave. Esther left the same night.

In the fields not far from peasants' homes, there was a huge hay stack. Esther climbed to the top and made a big hole. They stayed there for a few days until a shepherd noticed them and they were forced to leave as fast as possible. Esther with the kids returned again to the city, snuck discreetly in with indescribable fear. It was after midnight when they went to the house where they had lived in the past. She noticed the house was already occupied. Where can I go? The wretched Esther asked herself. She snuck into the garden of her neighbour and hid with the children for a few days in thick bushes until a neighbour, the wife of a Polish Army major, Peshkowska was her name, saw them and threatening told them; “Go away from here because it will be worse for you. You have to perish, but we don't want to perish with you”. Natank'e, in despair, repeated her threat. He said: “Auntie, did you hear what she said? She said: We must perish and not them”? The woman sent for her son who was an officer in the Polish Army, and he told them: “You are wasting your time suffering. You will not survive, anyway. There is no hope. The Germans are killing the Jews en mass. My advice is: Go to the Gestapo and let them kill you”.

They went again to another garden and hid in a bower. For some time, Esther fed the children with fruit which she stole at night from the gardens until the end of September. The rainy season had begun and it was raining incessantly day and night. Esther took off her coat and covered the soaked and emaciated children. The children trembled from the cold and she was afraid they would get sick.

Where can I go? She wrung her hands in silent despair. “Auntie, I cannot suffer anymore” the little frozen and hungry girl moaned.

Across from their former home, was a big brick building of the Polish family, Szule, and in the backyard, there was a stable and a big barn. The house was surrounded with a big fruit orchard and was engulfed with a fence of shrubbery. During the war it was occupied by the wife of a high-ranking Polish military man who was imprisoned by the Germans. At the same time, a German officer moved into the house, which consisted of six rooms. They often let their watch dog out into the yard. Ignoring the danger and at midnight, Esther went into the stable near that house to look for a place. She removed a board from the floor to gain entrance to the attic of the stable and, during the night, she carried in the children.

Since there were no more fruits on the trees, she had no food to give to the children. One time, she decided to commit a risky step. She noticed that a small part of the window where the Hitlerite lived, was open. She noticed in the room on the table that there was a basket with fruit. The door to the other room was open and the Hitlerite slept on a bed with his revolver on the night stand. She debated with herself. Should I go in or not? But seeing so many fruits at a time when her children were starving, she did not care. Through the little opening, she opened the window and snuck inside. She grabbed the fruit, jumped back outside and close the window. She repeated this several times. In order to save the children, she did not care about anything.

On a certain day, the Polish military wife noticed her and said nothing. In the beginning, she even helped her out being happy that this way it would be easier to feed the children. One time when the German officer's adjutant noticed her, the Polish military woman told him that she was a resettled Polish woman that helped her in household chores. Together with Esther, another woman neighbour by the name of Rybakova, also helped the military woman, together with Esther. Rybakowa shepherded her goats and washed her laundry. The Rybakowa woman smelt that the military woman was hiding something from her. After a few days, she discovered Esther in the attic in the stable. The Rybakowa neighbour had a son who was a colleague – a snitch. He spied for hidden Jews and for every Jew he betrayed, he was paid fifty zlotys and 10kg of sugar per head.

The Rybakowa woman began enticing the military woman to throw Esther and the children out into the street. When Esther found out about this, she generously awarded the Rybakowa to keep quiet. On the day when Esther gave her valuable things which she removed from the place where she was hiding them, she kept quiet. The following day, however, with the agreement of the military woman, all three were thrown out from the attic, and were again deprived of a place where to hide.

What could the wretched woman have done with the children? Where could they have gone? When, from all sides, they were being ambushed by enemies. They hid again in the neighbouring gardens. Since it rained incessantly, these innocent victims thought that death might be a better solution than continuing to suffer.

“Perhaps we should go to the basement of our previous home?” Esther asked the children. In the basement it is warm and the entrance to the basement was through the garden. During the night, they snuck into the basement of their own home which was already occupied by Poles. Some dirty straw lay around where Esther bedded down the children. They stayed there for a few days without food or water because they were afraid someone from the house might see them. After a few days, a cobbler's wife agreed to bring the family a pot with potatoes. She put the pot in the bower in Shimon Wolkenfeld's garden. Esther stealthily went there after midnight to retrieve the potatoes.

All the Poles behaved in the same way. In the beginning when they were rewarded, they helped the Jews with bits and pieces thrown at them like they were dogs, but after a short while, they began threatening them. Esther went to the bower for several days thinking maybe the cobbler's wife left something for her. But it was in vain. To her sorrow, there was nothing there. It was a false delusion. The children we so emaciated that the little girl could no longer speak. “Auntie”, she said: “There is black before my eyes. I don't even have the energy to open the eyes”.

Exhausted, physically and spiritually, she could no longer watch the children suffer, so she appealed to them and told them: “Be calm until midnight and then I will go over to the gardens and pick up some nuts”.

That night, because of the weakness, the children were unable to fall asleep. It seemed as though they had a premonition, that this black night would be their last. It happened at three o'clock in the morning. Esther had dressed the children and barely made it to the stable of their house. The stable had no roof and wasn't being used by anyone. Esther spread her coat in a corner. She put the children on the coat and covered them with a cover. When she left, she asked the children to be quiet so that none of the neighbours would hear them. She kissed them and with a broken-down voice, told them: “Be quiet and I will try to return as fast as possible”. She left.

When Esther came to the neighbouring garden, she searched for half an hour and did not find even one nut. She went to a second garden and again could not find anything. Wanting to go to another garden, she suddenly saw the Polish bandit, a colleague of Rybakowa's son who was coming in her direction. “Jewish woman stay!” the bandit yelled. Esther ran in the direction of the stable to see what had happened to the children. Unfortunately, they were not there. “Where are my children? Where?” She carried on in despair and acted as though she had lost her mind. In the beginning, she thought that maybe they had felt danger coming on and that they had gone back to the basement but suddenly, she heard an echo of voices from somewhere. “Auntie! Auntie! Run! Run! We are lost anyway”.

Esther was disoriented and could not determine from which side those sad words of the little, doomed and innocent victims were coming from. She wanted to follow the sound and go with them to the death and perish together. At that moment, she noticed the Polish bandit coming closer with an ironic grin on his face. “Jewish woman! You will not escape this time. Stay!

When Esther heard the bandit's words, she jumped over a fence and said: “I wouldn't have mind to go with the children but to you, bandit, and to the rest of the enemies, I will not give you the satisfaction!” In a minute, she saw more henchmen chasing after her. She jumped over a second fence and heard shots following her. At the end, she disappeared from their view and with the Polish path, reached the Krzemienice village.

The destiny of the children was stamped. When the son of the Rybakowa maid and his colleague, the snitch, brought the Gestapo to the place where the unfortunate orphans were held in the stable, they gave them to the Germans and he went to find Esther. The henchmen brought the little innocent creatures to the Gestapo.

The Gestapo in Lancut was located in the new house of Bienazh, near the post office. Every Gestapo man came to look at the two little children and could not stop admiring the beauty of the girl. One Gestapo man presume that since the girl was younger than the boy, it would be easier to find something out from her.

“What is your name?” the Gestapo man, Kokot asked. “Manusia!” the girl responded in a frightened voice. “Who brought you food?” “The auntie gave us food whenever she had”. “From where was the aunt getting the food?” “This, we don't know. Auntie never told us”. The girl responded with her frightened voice. “You don't know, you say?” The Gestapo repeated her words. Taking out his dagger and showing it to the children. “You see this knife? With this I will stab you straight into the heart. A lot of blood will leak out and it will be painful. Do you know where your cemetery is?” Kokot continued to question the children.

“In the cemetery, there is a pit that is ready where we will bury you alive if you refuse to tell the truth”. The children were silent but their faces turned pale from the horrible words. “Be smart, and tell us everything you know so you will remain alive. Tell us to which farmer the aunt went and who provided you with food?”

“We don't know anything, that is why we have nothing to tell”. The girl answered with fright. “You had better be smart and tell us to where the aunt ran away. What is the name of the land owner and where does he live? We will take you there and you will continue to be with him. Tell us everything you know and you will stay alive, but your sister, we are going to kill her now”. The Gestapo man, Kokot, ended his talking.

Hearing his words, the boy raised his sad black eyes and said: “Manusia already told you that we don't know anything”. Hearing the boy's answer, the Gestapo man gnashed his teeth in anger. The henchmen were angry that they were unable to find anything out from such small children. “You have until twelve o'clock to think it over”. After the warning, they took the children to a dark cellar. The chief of the Gestapo could not believe that they could not out anything from these children. He had no patience to wait until twelve o'clock. Before eleven o'clock, he personally went down to the cellar and took them out from there.

“What a beautiful Jewish girl you are!” He started to seduce the little girl. “You can be alive if you will be smart and tell us everything you know. Who was feeding you? What is the name of the people and where do they live? Where this the aunt run to?” Saying these words, he put his hand of the girl's head. When she felt the hand of the Gestapo, she pulled back with fright.

“Don't be afraid”, the commandant said. After a while, he pulled out from a drawer a package of chocolate. With hesitation, the little girl immediately threw the chocolate on the desk where the criminal was sitting and with a chocking voice said: “I. I don't want chocolate. We want to live and be free!” Reacting to the outburst of the girl amazed one Gestapo man who looked at the other and the trustworthy Pole who was present at the scene. As he later told the story, he declared that for the first time he felt compassion for the Jews. This was something extraordinary. Such smart words from a seven-year-old child. It was important for the Germans to find out anything from the children. They wanted to hear from her mentioning a Polish name and go there to shoot the entire family in order to scare the Poles from hiding or helping Jews.

The chief of the Gestapo was angry, gnashed his teeth and yelled: “They refuse to tell us anything. Let them die like beasts. Go and finish them off”. He ordered the Gestapo man, Kokot and two other bandits like him, to make it so that death should not come to them easily. They let the children to the execution. The girl walked on one side of the criminal and the boy on the other side. After they had walked a few steps to their own funeral, the girl stopped. She raised her hands begging while warm tears flowed from her eyes.

“Why don't you keeping going? Why are you standing?” Kokot yelled at her. “I want … I want something to ask you”. The girl looked up to the murderer with indescribable pain. “We are still children …” she could not finish the sentence because the words were stuck in her throat. With curiosity, Kokot asked her: “What did you want to say?” “I don't want to say anything. The only thing I would like to ask is to take my brother's hand”.

All the Poles that followed the live funeral procession were touched on hearing the girl's plea and there were some callings in the crowd. The bandits shot in the air to calm and disperse the Poles. The little victims took each other's hand, without waiting for the agreement of the murderers and for the first time, they cried loudly. The Hitlerite criminals consoled them; “Don't cry. You are going to heaven to your mummy and daddy, to your entire family, to all the Jews. Shortly we will send up your aunt! And you will all be happy”. The children reached the gate of the cemetery. The children stopped at the gate feeling that it was the gate of death.

“Tell us everything”. One of the murderers tried again, “and we will not hurt you”. The children again responded that they did not know anything, even though they knew the name of the village, the name of the farmer who was hiding them in the beginning and promised to help them in the future. They also knew other secrets. The murderers wickedly gnashed their teeth. They were enraged from the bloody work.

The horrible minute had arrived – their last tragic minutes. Kokot the henchman, first told the girl she should run. Like a child she ran in the direction of the gravestones. At the moment when she ran, the murderer released a shot and hit her leg. The child fell to the ground near a broken gravestone and was twisting from pain. On the other side, the almost unconscious boy watched his only beloved sister in pain and in a puddle of blood. At the same moment, he saw the murderer go to the dying girl and killed her with his dagger, straight in her heart! She moaned and expired.

The boy, mindless from pain and seeing how his beloved sister was stretched out unconscious on the ground, ran over and put her dead body on the broken gravestone and began kissing her bloodied head The murderers, and anxious to finish the job fast, during the minutes when the brother was sobbing over his sister's body, the henchman said to him: “You see what happened? If you will not tell us anything, the same will happen to you”. The child replied: “My sister is dead, why should I talk now that my aunt will also be killed because of me? Now you can do to me whatever you want. I don't care”. During these words, Kokot shot and killed Natanke.

Across the synagogue there was a Jewish tavern belonging to the Weinbach family. During the war the tavern and restaurant were in the possession of the Polish family Kowalkow from Przedmiescie. Esther escaped from the hands of the pursuers, to the sister of Kowalkowa. The Kowalkowa knew the children, therefore, she was interested to find out if the children had betrayed anyone. Like the other Poles she was a witness and with her own eyes, saw how the children were led to the cemetery.

When the murderers returned from the cemetery, their uniforms were soiled with blood from the children. They came into the restaurant to wash up and have a drink. The Kowalkowa gave them a lot to drink and when they were drunk, they told her everything that was described above. There was also present in the Gestapo a Polish trustworthy man when the Gestapo chief spoke with the children. The trustworthy Pole was amazed at the children's smartness, and he spoke about this to his neighbours and friends in the Kowalkowa restaurant.

When Esther and Rivka were liberated, they found out about it from the Pole who saw and heard how the murder was committed to the two innocent children.

[Page 397]

Though, who hast made me to see many and sore troubles, wilth quicken me again and bring me up again from the depths of the earth.

Psalms Ch. 71, v.20

The nights are black and secretive and an indescribable fright befalls when thinking about the future. In the brain, there clings a particle from a picture of the past.

Summer camp of the Beitar, 1933 in Lancut. Three hundred Beitar members marched out from the historic synagogue. The blue and white flag escorted by the “Hazamir” orchestra under the leadership of Shimon Wolkenfeld, may God avenge his innocent blood, is playing a military march. The officers of the Polish army, headed by Dr. Tenzer, are reviewing the defile. Tears can be seen in the eyes of the older generation and we, the youth, proudly marched in close ranks with strong convictions that we were realizing the teachings of the Beitar leader from the new Alphabet: Children: “learn how to shoot”.

And soon comes to the mind the words of the same prophet: “Liquidate the Diaspora, if not, the Diasporas will have you liquidated”.

It is chilly for the soul. We don't know about our relatives and friends. The reality is unbelievable. In deep desperation, a prayer emanates from the painted heart: “Master of the world, let it be only a nightmare. To our sorrow it is a reality”.

Siberia, with its fifty degrees frost, is not a phantasy. The Uzbekistan with its forty degrees hot temperature and with its thousands of graves of the remnants of the exiled, is a sad reality. The fever from the cold and heat keeps increasing and gives no respite. Creating gloomy pictures of squirming bodies that struggle in the fire flames and are turning into white ashes. Breathing out their pure souls, quietly whispering: “Shema Israel”.

And I think to myself, Master of the world! Such hearty, dear Jews whose lives consisted only of the Bible, Ein Yaacov Gemara, Hassidism, love of Zion and pioneering. Whose “binging” meant buying a piece of herring. Jewish types like my father, Reb Tuvian, of blessed memory, which to him a trick was to insert coins into a tobacco snuffing box of a poor man in order to help him discreetly, or the biggest happiness of my mother, may she rest in peace, which was to put together a few pair of shoes for poor kids. And such a Jewry was mercilessly torn away. It is simply incomprehensive. However! Do not despair. The Eternal will shall not be overcome. The belief that “Netzach Israel Lo Yeshaker” that People of Israel are eternal, strengthens the soul. It comes to mind the words from the “Haggadah” that: “In every generation they try to annihilate us, but the Eternal always rescues us from their hands”.

What if in the morrow your son will ask:

And I see again the scene in the firewood market, the military ranks of the Beitar. This is our solution. It cannot be otherwise. We paid a terribly big price. The nicest and the best that Jewish People had, we sacrificed on the alter for our Nation's existence. Our Shtetl Lancut contributed its diamonds and royal crown for the redemption.

And when your son will ask tomorrow: “Where were you when the national was suffering, dreamed and fought. You will calmly and with pride be able to say: We were nicknamed: “The Lancut Elite” and we carried that name proudly by deeds, by sacrifices and with an exemplary living standard.

[Pages 398-399]

Reb Naphtali Shternheim

He was barely fifty-six years old when he perished in Auschwitz. How rich this young life was with mitzvot and good deeds. He wore a rare crown of a “Good Name” which for many years was on his head. From Lancut to Amsterdam and Lodz, the sound of his name stretched. Uncounted people admired and praised him.

He was born in Lancut in 1886 to Reb Moshe and Pessil Shternheim in a fine Jewish middle class home. The young Naphtali was raised on Torah and Labour. Day and night he sat as a young man in Beid Hamidrash where he absorbed Torah and Hassidism.

In the beginning of 18. he married Rachel Liber from Baligrad, a woman who was instilled with the nicest attributes and characteristics. They settled in Rzeszow and became known as a fine Jewish couple. When World War I began, Reb Naphtali Shternheim left with the stream of refugees to the west. He was a short time in Hungary and then came to Holland.

In Holland, he really prospered and became wealthy. However, his wealth was not meant for him to enjoy alone. He gave away money for charity, for Torah institutions and kindness in such a tempo and size, which stunned the world. For Reb Naphtali Shternheim, charity was part of his own life. He enjoyed giving money to poor people and gave generously, never letting someone feel poor who took donation from the rich.

In time, he began to be famous as the “Known Philanthropist” among the Amsterdam-Polish Jews. Anyone who came from the East to collect money for a good purpose, carried in his pocket the address of Reb Naphtali Shternheim. He did not disappoint anyone. He welcomed everybody with a smile and handed him the nicest donation.

Lancut, his old hometown, knew about him and not only Lancut but also Lizhensk, Przeworsk and other small towns. Wherever there was a needy, he wrote to Amsterdam to Reb Naphtali Shternheim, and soon the mail delivered the proper response. Through him, hundreds of people became prosperous. He put back merchants on their feet who felt that it was getting hard for them. Giving discreetly was his beloved modus vivendi. More often, he did not wait to be asked but sent help on his own initiative.

And, he was a fully pledged Torah Jew, whatever he absorbed in his youth, he strengthened by constantly studying. He owned one of the nicest private libraries and dug, with love, into ancient books. When a Rabbi or a personality came to visit him, their conversation was Torah. He led the same gentle Jewish way of life in all the other cities where he resided; in Berlin, in Lodz and finally in Amsterdam again.

In the Lublin Yeshiva there was a room in the name of Reb Naphtali Shternheim. He contributed the money for this room cheerfully to the Rabbi of Lublin, Rabbi Meir Shpiro, of blessed memory.

How did he bring up his children? He brought an old friend from his youth, Reb Mordechai Frider from Przeworsk, to Berlin to teach his son the Torah. Reb Naphtali Shternheim supported him in order that his child should have a good teacher. And that is the way his son, Levi Shternheim, was brought up. Jewish. He would surely have followed his father's gentle ways if his young life had not been cut short because of the war in the Japanese imprisonment where he was a solider for Holland.

Reb Naphtali Shternheim dedicated his entire life to his two children. He raised them with love and devotion. No sacrifice was too big to bring them up in the right way.

At the outbreak of World War II, he was in Amsterdam and his son managed his business in Lodz. Regrettably, Reb Naphtali Shternheim had no longer seen his family anymore. He, being in Amsterdam and his family left Lodz, escaped to the east and arrived in Java, a Dutch island, where his wife was detained and his son perished in a Japanese war imprisonment camp. The only daughter with her husband, the writer of these lines, and their baby reached the United States.

Reb Naphtali Shternheim resided in Amsterdam until 1943. He tried to smuggle out to Switzerland. He passed through Belgium into France. He was caught by the Gestapo at the Swiss-French border and sent to Drancy and from there to Auschwitz.

His blood merged with the innocent spilled blood of millions of Jewish martyrs. “And by Your servants, the prophets are written saying: “Though I cleanse (the enemy), their bloodshed I will not cleanse …”

Levi Shternheim

The Last Journey

The last day in Shtetl Painted by Yosel Bergner

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