At 6 in the morning, we went to work. All over the sedl (the garden) on Rudnitska Street, behind the ghetto, there were carts. It was snowing and very cold outside. The carts were full of the belongings of the Jews of Oshmyany, Smorgon, Kriva,^[77] and more. The Oshmyany ghetto had been liquidated. Some people were transferred to Vilna and some were transferred to Kovno according to their choice. In the Vilna ghetto they also announced that those who wish to be reunited with their family and transferred to Kovno, may do so. Many of the young people, especially those who wanted to reunite with their families, went, but they were not taken to Kovno, but rather to Ponary. Over 4,000 people were taken to their deaths, among them were the Rabbi of Kriva, the Rabbi of Kerka (near Smorgon), and Rabbi Zelig Shapira of Grodno.

Rabbis Marcus and Sludzinski of Smorgon and Rabbi Entin from Michalishok^[78] arrived in Vilna. Their activity was noticeable in the synagogues. They were among those who persistently demanded that the young Jewish boys should go to the forest to the partisans. They said that if it weren't for their families, they themselves would have gone to the forest.

Between Pesach and the Atzeret,^[79] I met Mitza Bastomski. From the restraint in his speech, I understood that he was part of the underground. Previously, he was locked up in prison and the underground probably got him out of there. I talked to him about going to the Gentiles and I started planning how to go out of the ghetto and to whom to come, but the I thought that as I have a family, it is better to sit still and do nothing. Chaim Soltz was also in the ghetto. He worked in a sawmill (tartak) and planned every day to leave the ghetto and never come back. He gave me names of Gentiles and their addresses, as well as places where it was possible to get in touch with the partisans. But in times of distress, as a family man, it was out of the question. In the meantime, they handed out to each a personal Ausweis (identity card) with a can and a number that should be hung around the neck. Oh my, if you were get caught by a German, or a Lithuanian, and you didn't have a can hanging on your neck.

We were waiting for news every day. The new tenants who arrived from outside, brought life into the ghetto. We heard them talking with each other about leaving the ghetto, about partisans, about forests and weapons. I met every day with Polish acquaintances, ex-soldiers. I was willing to pay big sums of money in exchange for guns. A few promised to help and brought me profiteers. Everyone was afraid to speak, but as I got to the bottom of their minds, I realized that they were not interested in allowing us to be saved and go to the forest. They told me that “you (Jews) came as partisans to us (Polish Gentiles) and robbed and looted and even set the houses on fire. How can we sell a weapon to you?”

The Gentiles from the village brought these stories of horrors to the city. If there was a rare case in which a Gentile cooperated with the Gestapo, he would be punished. They would cheat and tell lies. The war strengthened anti-Semitism with all its evil, and did not soften it. After all, a Gentile remains a Gentile, and if by nature he was anti-Semitic, nothing will change him.

[On July 9, 1943, Bruno] Kittel^[80] visited Bezdany,^[81] which is located 25 km [northeast] from Vilna. The workers from the district who came to Vilna said that they have there a weapons cache hidden in the ground. These sturdy guys were waiting for an opportunity to go out into the forest. Kittel brought food, sugar, etc. He told them that if they work well, they will receive good food and more. Then, he got a haircut at the barber's, a Jewish guy from the camp. When the shaving was finished, he offered the barber a cigarette and asked him if he wanted a “light,” and when he said yes - Kittel instantly took out his pistol and shot him. The shot was a signal. In a moment, grenades and bombs were being fired at the shack where all of the workers were. Only those who were not present at the place and saw what was happening from afar, ran away and arrived at the ghetto with this bad news. This terrible incident served as a sign that something bad was about to happen in the ghetto as well.

In the middle of the way, on our way back to the ghetto, we noticed that something was wrong in the ghetto. The walk of the groups returning from work was not in the usual direction, to the Jewish quarter of the ghetto. One of ours left the group and came back with the news: The ghetto gates are being closed to workers working outside the ghetto. All workers will work in the existing factories in the ghetto and those that will be established. Our mood changed immediately. Who knows what awaits us already at home, in the ghetto, maybe a new aktziya. I had many private matters that I had not yet sorted out in the city. I had left clothes with Gentiles for sale. The Gentiles were just waiting for the day that I would not come to claim them back. And the main thing was the chances of finding a hiding place (melina) with the Gentile

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acquaintances in the village. When it seemed to me that the matter will really be settled, an unexpected surprise popped up. How will thousands of workers have a working place in the few factories that were in the ghetto? That day, 54 work units were eliminated.

The next day, Germans from several units came with permits in their hands that were given again to the Jewish workers, including the workers from Boita Lager camp, and the H.K.P. camp.^[82] The new condition was that a German will accompany the workers back and forth. The next day we left, hundreds of workers, while a T.A.T. guard accompanied us. We were taken to the airport in front of the Wilcza łapa hills. Here we were draining swamps, building bridges, repairing roads, and establishing an airport. The work was hard and arduous. We worked all day in the mud with a hoe, the soil was heavy, all clay and water. It was impossible to get anything. Many were accepted into the old units that worked outside the ghetto, but how was is possible to be accepted into this unit if it costs thousands?

The H.K.P. (Heeres Kraftfahr Park) military garage – was divided into branches. At the Pancherka branch, buses that consumed gasoline were being modified to buses that could be used with firewood. I would often meet with the workers there when I returned from work. They worked not far from us (on Werkowska Street). Their brigadier, was Noah Pupko - a good guy without any complexes, who was willing to help others. According to my request, he searched and found that the leather worker in the unit lacked an assistant. In the evening in the ghetto, my acquaintance from our unit taught me about the leather work. The next day I left the ghetto with the workers of the unit. A car drove us to the workplace. I came, but the poor leather worker didn't need help that day. Luckily, the foreman from Hall C needed a locksmith urgently. How great was his joy when he learned that I worked in a military unit as a locksmith. From that day, my certificate was signed with the stamp of the H.K.P.

In fact, the aktziya has already started with the plan to transfer workers to Estonia. The Judenrat performed the registration. The first in line were the evasive workers, who have not been accepted into the job, as well as the new arrivals to the ghetto, who have not yet been placed in a professional job.

The events were progressing at a very fast pace. The atmosphere in the ghetto was electrified. It was impossible to trust anyone, not even friends.

Today, as usual, several hundred people went to Porubanek, to the airport. Other large groups joined along the way and headed towards the train. Suddenly, the walkers saw that they were surrounded by German, Estonian, and Lithuanian soldiers. They were taken to the train station! A panicked run began. Many fell and many ran away. However, a significant part was transferred to wagons that were bound for Estonia. In Porubanek, too, the workers were surrounded by the army. Here, too, someone mentioned the name Ponary, saying that they lie to us and want to take us to Ponary. Thousands attacked the barbed wire fences and the soldiers who were there. After the soldiers recovered, they started shooting at people. Dozens of people were killed on the spot. Some were transferred to the wagons that were going to Estonia. It was said that Dessler^[83] was involved in this operation. He did not want to organize an aktziya in the ghetto and gave them other advice, but this advice was unsuccessful.

[Rudolf] Niegeboyer,^[84] the head of the Gestapo, came to the ghetto with his men, called for an assembly of brigadiers, and announced that the men who were caught yesterday were sent to work in Estonia. He promised that there will be no aktziya for extermination and asked that the people go of their own free will to “build the Reich” in Estonia. He said that everyone who received an invitation at their home must show up. In the meantime, Heiman, the brigadier, returned from Estonia, with letters from the first shipment in his hand. The people breathe a sigh of relief. If so, the people who were taken were alive!

On the 22^nd of the month, the first aktziya of the shipment to Estonia ended, which reached to one thousand and four hundred people instead of three thousand.

An aktziya of 4 days has begun. [Garbert] Paulhaber of the Gestapo requested five thousand Jews to be sent to Estonia. In the morning he came with his men accompanied by Estonian soldiers. I hid in my room's closet for clothes and household items. The door was left open so as to give the impression that there was no one inside. Twice during the morning police officers passed through the room and did not notice me. Even the people of the house were not aware about my presence. That day, the ghetto was closed and no one went to work. My wife told me that our neighbors in the courtyard, Shimon and his mother, were going out to the melina in the courtyard at 9 Strashun. He asked if I was willing to go with them. We avoided the house and entered straight through the hole in our courtyard. In the house next to the melina, we found many ladies. The people arranged the women in the melina and they hid elsewhere. Apparently, the police were aware of the melina. We left Shimon's mother, my wife, and our daughter in place, covered up the opening, and dodged to 4 Strashun, where the children's home was located. We went up to the fourth floor. Among the orphaned children we found one acquaintance. We discovered a hidden place behind the window under the roof and laid down in it. In the meantime, the boy informed us that an underground member has set up a submachine gun in the other room. My neighbor was afraid to stay in this place and went out into our yard to another melina. I stayed there and went out to the other room. The man from the underground was a little surprised. He told me that I was sent to him from heaven, because he cannot leave the submachine gun even for a moment and he

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need to receive orders from the balcony on 9 Strashun Street. He suggested that I look there, and when I see someone, I will let us know. In the meantime, I saw from the side of the courtyard, in one window on the second floor, the barrel of a rifle hidden among books and behind it an acquaintance of mine. So, I got caught up among underground members and I served as their communicator. In the afternoon, an explosion was heard. We later learned that Ilya Scheinbaum was standing in the courtyard of No. 12 on Strashun Street and shot at the Germans. As retaliation action, the Germans placed explosives and destroyed Courtyard 12, Courtyard 15 across the street, and 8 Oshmyanska.^[85] At night, the people were taken out of the melina under the cave-in at 15 Strashun Street.

The workers of the H.K.P. were going to work. While we were still at home, we heard the announcement from the Jewish policemen. But I did not even dare to think of going to work. Nevertheless, many went. The veterans believed that the H.K.P. would not initiate anything bad against them since they were needed for work, and therefore, it was possible to go to work. About 200 workers gathered around the soldier who came to take them. He just managed to take them out of the ghetto gate when, fortunately, Kittel appeared and ordered them to the train station in order to be sent to Estonia. The attempted intervention of [the H.K.P. commandant, German Major Karl] Plagge did not help, because after all, “the Reich is also being built in Estonia.” He took out of the group only the main storekeeper from the unit, Pancher, and went with him to the city.

I hid the entire day on the rooftops in 6 Strashun. In the evening I dodged and went home. It was impossible to go out at night either, but I had to know what was going on. My wife received Mordechai Danishevsky's hat, a policeman's hat, I put a ribbon on my hand and dodged to Rudnitska Street. I met acquaintances, heard from relatives about those who were taken to Estonia and visited my friend Yaakov Lifshitz. His melina was discovered. He claimed that the current place where he stays is much safer. That night we talked a lot about the past and the future. We agreed that we would not go to Estonia of our own free will. The next day his landlady told me that he could not withstand the pressure of the neighbors and the landlord, who demanded him to go with them to Estonia. He unwillingly went with them to Estonia. He perished there, three days before the liberation, hearing the thunder of the Katyushas (multi-barreled cannons)^[86] of the victorious army.

Today, they also took the auxiliary policemen (Shtarke) and the Judenrat workers. After they were gathered at 6 Rudnitska Street, in the courtyard of the Judenrat, they took them to the train station.

Today, women were going to their husbands in Estonia. There was a big panic. The people no longer think much and walk. My roommate, Landsman, is debating. Her husband and daughter went, her brother and sister-in-law went, but she could not leave her old mother, therefore she stayed. The number of men and women taken out in five days reached 7,000.

The ghetto police chiefs Gens and Dessler were called to the Gestapo. In the afternoon Dessler returns alone. Gens was arrested. At night it was learned that Gens was killed on suspicion that he had relations with the Lithuanian partisans.

Tonight, was a sleepless night. All the people came out of the melinas and at 3 in the morning, they stood in line to receive half a kilogram of bread.

Dessler [who had been Gens' deputy chief of police] was appointed [Jewish] commandant of the ghetto, Kittel was appointed as the head of the [Nazi] police. In the office of the H.K.P. at 6 Yatkova Street,^[87] a feverish registration of the workers willing to move to the camp that will be set up on the edge of the city, in Rosella,^[88] was handled. Brigadier Kolesh urged his men to finish the registration as soon as possible. I was one of the first to sign up. Major Plagge received an approval from the S.D. Gestapo, to transfer 350 professional workers and their families, 1,000 people in total, to H.K.P., to a special labor camp, at 12 Subotch St., in the Baron Hirsch buildings.^[89] Many of the old workers did not register, fearing that they would not last. The candidacy of some of them was not approved by the Brigadier. In their place, wealthier people registered.

Leaving the ghetto: In the morning the buses arrived from the H.K.P. Those who had a special note, whose name appeared on the list, left the ghetto.

I said goodbye to my friend and acquaintance in the kloiz, Reb Shaul. The Bnei Torah accept my departure positively. The only thing they asked of me was that if I remained alive, I must remember and tell what the evil Nazi murderers and their Polish and Lithuanian helpers did to us. My apartment neighbors mocked me by saying: To where are you leaving? To an abandoned camp in the corner of the city? Do you think you will earn your life by doing so?

The road to the cheap houses in Rosella^[90] was well known to me. Many times, I went here, to parties at the late Rabbi Halperin's, head of Reb Maile's yeshiva.^[91] In this way I would go to my brother Shlomo's apartment in the Tarbut seminary's apartment, at 29 Subotch Street. How much lively Jewish life

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was concentrated in these two floors houses, although their tenants were poor. And today – ruin and destruction prevails in every corner, the rooms are full of dirt and bedbugs left by the Soviet women, who lived here recently. Some of the floors are also destroyed. The boards were used to heat the houses. Only the mezuzahs^[92] remained, a faithful testimony of Jewish life that were here.

We already settled in one room together with the Popko family. The dirt is a trouble, and there is no water. There is a stove in the room, but it has no chimney and the smoke goes out into the room. It must be fixed, but how? During the day, the bus arrives every few moments and brings new workers. There are many new faces here, people who have never been in the H.K.P. unit. In the meantime, few policemen were appointed in charge of the water supply. After the roll call, the companies were tasked with cleaning the rooms and preparing the places for workshops. Groups go out to fetch water. Lithuanian police officers guard them. Some go out to the neighbor's courtyard to search for some water hole or a water pump. In the meantime, if they were lucky enough, they manage to sell some object and buy a piece of bread and potatoes.

In the evening we pray in our room. We have a Torah scroll and shofar that we brought from the ghetto. We also brought books with us. The next morning, we pray in the minyan. The atmosphere of the ghetto prevails also here. The chain has not been broken yet.

Today, many Lithuanian police came to the yard. They increased the number of guards at the gate that is being erected.

It's 10 o'clock. The Jewish policemen call for a full roll call. This time we were asked to go out with the families. Commandant Kolesh (a Jew) is sitting in the open area, between the 2 blocks, in a place that was previously called “the fruit garden” (sedl). His secretary, Mrs. Orliuk, is sitting next to him, writing down the names of the people. Each family approaches the table. They check and write down [the names]. Jewish policemen stand next to them. The Lithuanian policemen are also walking around every corner.

I'm wearing an old, worn-out overall from work that I brought from the Pancherka. The commandant asks me my profession. I answer that I am a blacksmith. He looked at his secretary and she looked at him. Meanwhile, I'm getting furious as it is obvious that he thinks that I am lying. There is silence for a minute. The secretary says: “And what else?” Apparently, the presence of my wife Tzipora and my daughter Yocheved, who were wearing clean clothes and did not lose their humanity, influenced them and she looked for another excuse. I do not lose hope and answered: “Auto- mechanic.” The secretary asks, “Where did you work?” “In Pancherka,” I replied. The commandant's eyes met the eyes of the secretary. “Go to the second block, to the corridor of the house.” Those who did not pass the test, for some reason, remain at the table. They write down their details and that of their families, and the police lead them to the warehouse that was set up yesterday for the smithy. Michael Surasky and other acquaintances said goodbye to their fictitious families and were taken to the warehouse. As soon as the roll call was over, all of the prisoners were transferred back to the ghetto. The women were also asked to take the packages and were transferred back to the ghetto. There were no complaints, no appeals – it was an order and they had to obey. Apparently, the management made a mistake in their calculations, and gave more permissions to veteran workers with rights than they thought. As a consequence, in order to keep the privileged workers, who came to the camp, they sent the workers back to the ghetto.

Livas, the police supervisor of the ghetto gate, managed to reach to the H.K.P. camp, dressed in civilian clothes. The well-known Dessler also walked around the courtyard, with a small suitcase in his hand, and disappeared. We were working on arranging the warehouses to prepare them for jobs. The women had already made potato pancakes [latkes] and potato pies. They sell for 10 rubles a piece. Yes, a new livelihood!

The carriers of the dead delivered an order that had been received, that the ghetto must be liquidated by 11 o'clock. All of the Jews must prepare packages and prepare to go to Estonia. They did the selection in the courtyard. Part of the people were loaded onto the wagons headed to Estonia; the elders and children were loaded on another wagon to an unknown destination, which was well known to us…

The Nazis also managed to set up gallows and hang four Jews, three of them who were members of the underground, for shooting Germans in the city. Gershke Levin, the well-known watchmaker in the ghetto, was also hanged.

At the train station they hung a big sign Vilna Judenrein.^[93] At the gates of the ghetto there was still a Lithuanian and a German guard, because the Germans were removing the Jewish property.

Rosh Hashanah is approaching. The heavens poured out all of their anger on the land and its people. Heavy rain falls without respite. It's hard to work outside. It is getting colder and no panes of glass are available. On the sixth floor, in block 2, we set

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up a place of prayer. We have a cantor (Leiserowitz) and a shofar blower. Yaffe also brought his Torah book, an inheritance from his ancestors from the ghetto. There is no shortage of Kaddish reciters.^[94] There is also no shortage of Jews who want aliyahs.^[95] We prayed together using the few machzor^[96] books that we had brought. Down in the courtyard, the children stood “on six” [slang for “on guard”] and kept a watch so that the Germans and Lithuanians would not pass by while were in prayer. Everyone in the camp came to hear the shofar blow and not a single child was missing.

Today they again held a roll call, but this time it was done by professional Germans. They lined us up, each one according to his profession, and divided us. Some go to Savanoria^[97] to the Arbon garages and some stay in the camp. I was among those going to Savanoria. We were promised that we will be able to return to the block and visit our families every few days. The important thing was that our work in the garages will save our lives and the lives of the entire camp. Elka Gurvitz (future brother-in-law of Kolesh) was appointed as the camp commandant in Savanoria. The garages in Savanoria were spacious. Each group got a car for repair. All the necessary tools were available and the work was conducted properly. The sleeping place was not good. It was in an old wooden hut, with a leaking roof and the wind blew between the beams. We arranged planks from the racks of the cars and lay down to sleep.

I was called to the smithy. Apparently, blacksmiths were not available. Here in the smithy were gathered all of the workers who came to repair something or others who came to take some object for their work, etc.

At 12 o'clock, the car from the camp in Subotch arrived and brought yoshnik [“pigswill”] soup, as it was called in the camp. I received the meal my wife prepared for me separately, next to the car, because I didn't eat from the general pot for kosher reasons.

In the evening, the car returns. Those close to the Germans went to the camp, to the families. After 8 pm – there was a night curfew. The work was hard, but the workers were making good progress. Everyone wanted to save their lives by work.

We chose a committee. Our request was to transfer our families here. We strongly sensed that our families saw themselves in the camps as inferior. Who knows, maybe one day during the aktziya they can be taken away, when they have no support in place. But the commandant stuck to his opinion: He had not fought for nothing in the ghetto to move the professional workers to a camp outside the ghetto, so how now will he allow the camp to be divided in two? There are still Jews in melinas in the ghetto. With the discovery of the great melina of the Judenrat, cell No. 16 in the Gestapo was filled. When this cell is full, they are transferred to Ponary. The brigadier [chosen by] the Gestapo, Mr. Kammermacher (a Jew), influenced Kittel, after a request was received from the commandant of the H.K.P. camp [Plagge] that there is a need for professional workers, to agree to transfer one hundred and ten single men from the prisoners in the Gestapo, to the H.K.P. camp.

We work all day outside in mud and puddles of water. Every day and the weather it brings with it. Today is a rainy and cloudy day. A fire is burning in the blacksmith shop, the engines are working non-stop. Everyone is looking for an opportunity to get in and warm their hands. The news they brought today was about the new board at the municipal train station that said: Vilna Judenrein [Vilna is free of Jews]. Vilna! How would you look in the eve of Yom Kippur in these early hours! It's hard to talk about it today. A year ago, while we were still in the ghetto, we talked, dreamed, and said when will the end come? And since then, several thousands were again murdered in Ponary, and from the last liquidation of the ghetto, thousands were again transferred to Ponary. And here we are alone, lonely, there is no one we can talk to about our hardship. It is said that Elka Gurevitz is preparing a list of people who will go to the camp, because it is not worth staying here under the supervision of the Nazis. You are not allowed to leave your workplace during the day. You are under supervision all day. The place is small, it is impossible to disappear from eyes that always look after you.

We had lunch at 12:00, in a hurry. The sky is clearing, although the mud is knee deep.

It's five o'clock. We are still in the garage. In the middle of work, the police officers whistled to the commander. The heart is afraid, what happened now? A roll call. Elka Gurevitz counts the people as usual, to check if no one is missing. He takes out a list from his pocket and announces that the people he will call their name must get out of line and stand in front of him. These are going to camp tonight. The rest remain here. Everyone thinks in their heart, who is the lucky one who can go to the camp, to his family, for Yom Kippur. At least to be found in the family circle during this important day. Although our time here is short, only a few days, but every day was endless. By the way, the camp had a prayer house and it was possible to pray there together. The people who are called to the camp are satisfied and stand outside the line. They don't even go to wash their dirty hands and faces. They look and wait only to be allowed to get on the big truck. And here he also called my name and pointed his finger at me to go out to the group. I remained standing in my place, looking at the setting sun. I figured out that I won't be able to get to the camp before Yom Kippur starts! I decided that I'm not traveling. Preventing desecration of Yom Tov,^[98] and especially Yom Kippur, and maybe the last one in my life, is better than traveling. Kravitz is standing next to me and asks me: Why don't you go out? “Look at the setting sun,” I answer him.

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And with a sigh he repeats and says: “Oh Good Lord! Look at us from Heaven and see!”

In the warehouse behind the bathhouse and the kitchen, gathered more than ten people. We wrapped ourselves in only two tallits and prayed Arvit.^[99] There was no time even to eat the final meal before the fast.^[100] The prayer was not easy at all. God was so close to us, we felt his strong hand and we knew that there were still many people in the melinas in the ghetto, that were living on a spoonful of flour and they don't even have water to drink! They also told their troubles solely with God. Won't their anger be heard? The night before curfew I decided that I would not to go to work tomorrow. This was the first time that I informed Nike Dreizin (the local police inspector) that I did not intend to work tomorrow, for religious reasons. I knew his attitude to everything that relates to holiness and religious, but I could not get into fights with him. My surprise was enormous when he said after looking at me carefully: “Look, you will say you are sick with a fever tomorrow and you stay lying in bed. I'm going with Zink (the German in charge of us) to check the rooms, you'll say you have a fever, and you'll stay in bed for the day, and I'll take care of the rest.” I couldn't believe what I was hearing. So much slander had been said about this man, and finally he was transferred to the Gestapo and his bad reputation remained in the camp for the rest of his life. But I cannot forget his [benevolent] attitude toward me on that Yom Kippur.

The next morning, I stayed in bed. At precisely 7 am Dreizin and Zink appeared. Zink started shouting as usual and asked me: “What is wrong with you?” “I'm sick.” “Do you have a fever?” he asked and approached me to check the fever and jumped away from me as if he was bitten by a snake, the German carried him out of the room and I stayed in the room. Yes, who can understand the human soul…

The heavy rains and the cold give their signals in the people. The cold and the rain slow down the work. It's difficult to work outside. The clothes were light, the people were hungry, and could not last. It was especially difficult when the roof leaked in the sleeping hut and the wind penetrated through the cracks in the walls. The garages were also crowded. When you put two buses in there was no room to turn around. But there was no choice, we got used to this place, too.

On Chol HaMoed Sukkot, we again received an order that Savanoria workers should take their clothes and belongings and move to work and live in a new place, in Pancherka. There, the courtyards were spacious, surrounded by barbed wire fences and many Germans guards. The sleeping rooms were more spacious, although the huts were built from wood. All the workshops were in one row. A door connected one workshop to the other, and the smithy was in the middle. Lunch was brought again from the camp. They said that every day, 30 people will travel to the block, to the camp, and they will return the next day. It will be according to the numbers they will receive the day before.

The next day, they brought new people from the camp, the 110 surviving employees of the Gestapo. In exchange for them, several people (probably people with means) were sent back to the camp. We knew that when you wanted to be sarcastic with someone in the H.K.P. camp, you would say “It has already been arranged in Pancherka,” the camp's kuntz-lager.”

Thursday. Today, I did not receive my meager meal, which my wife sends me every day in the car that brings the food pot from the camp. The food pot was brought by a German guard, unaccompanied by a Jewish ghetto policeman as always. We thought, maybe it's a coincidence. But in the evening, the car did not come to take the people to the block. What could be happening? But no one wanted to talk about it for fear that talking about it would bring trouble. Levit, a Lithuanian, told me that he heard from the police that something happened in the camp at noon. The fear grew, knowing that our wives were considered inferior in the camp, since they do not have their husbands with them. We collected money and asked a German from the guard to go on a mission of our behalf for a large sum of money. He should take a letter and he must bring an answer to it. The letter is for Sammy Gorin's wife, one of our friends here.

Who can describe how we felt during that night! We were willing to give up everything, even our lives, but not the life of our families. Although my heart did not foretell evil.

It was 3 o'clock at night. The German returned with a short letter, which passed the censorship of our policemen. We understood that people were taken, but their identity was unknown. We had to wait until we know who they were. The next day at 10 o'clock the car brought letters. At the edge of the camp, I heard my name, because there was a letter for me.

And here is what happened. Kittel, on his walk through the city, noticed a Jewish lady, who walked without [yellow] patches. He arrested her and brought her to the Gestapo. When it turned out that she was living in the H.K.P. they brought her to the H.K.P. They immediately took out the man who was registered as her “husband.” The mother and daughter were put on their knees and shot in the head. However, a hanging was ordered for her husband. When they hanged him, the rope broke and he remained alive. Kittel ordered him to be hanged a second time, and when he fell from hanging for the second time as well, the man turned to Kittel and said to him, “even the rope does not want me to be killed by it,

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let me live!” With a devilish laugh pouring over the killer's face, he shot him in the head. This terrible case served as a warning sign, to what extent the Jewish workers care for each other. This warning took place in front of all the people of the camp, who were forced to come and watch the hanging. “The next time such an event will happen, I promise you, I will eliminate the entire camp” - Kittel announced. Everyone fled the scene. Then, he gave an order and the Lithuanian police spread out in the courtyard, and began to kidnap men and women, gathered them into two cars, and transferred them to Ponary. As a result, several families left the camp to be accommodated with their acquaintances in melinas.

… Life in the camp was starting to settle down. Each unit worked with its staff. There was a connection between the workers by the brigadiers. There were good results in the constructive work, repaired buses were coming out, but there was no livelihood. There was no possibility of earning, there was no possibility of leaving work. The only contact with the outside world had to be done through the police, who earned handsomely. A large number, especially those who came from the Gestapo, were in destitution – they received rations, half a kilo of bread and soup. There were also half portions. After all, no one wanted to be among the recipients of the rations. It was known that social cases are the first in line during the aktziya.

New Livelihoods

The engineers with fine mechanical skills started to install covers for watches. They sold their produce to watchmakers in the city. A machine for the saccharin industry, which was sold in the camp, was installed. Its products were very tradable. Engineer Kenner toiled and toiled and instructed the locksmiths and blacksmiths, until he invented a machine for the syrup and jam industry. He prepared the products from the peels of rotten potatoes and carrots. Artificial honey was also produced in the camp. The stoves in the rooms had been repaired and it was possible to heat the houses. A large part of the camp's residents began to bake bread for sale. My roommate and I also worked in partnership and baked bread. We got flour from the cooperative.

They brought here the heating boiler from the bathhouse in the ghetto, and arranged it in Block I near entrance A, in the basement. The person responsible for the bathhouse here was the engineer Yoselzon (from Rudnitska Street). In the winter, some would go inside the bathhouse to warm up a bit. Ambulatory clinic with doctors and nurses and two dentists was also arranged in the camp. One of the things that reminded us of the ghetto was the long line to the toilet. There was only one toilet. Many people woke up early to get in line. The building of the second toilet on the west side of the block was a very important event, in honor of which a song was written that would be sung on different occasions. The issue of water was also of considerable concern. The pump was repaired and operated by electricity, but only at fixed hours, and when something broke down, a few people were turning the wheel.

They arranged a shnayder-shtube (tailoring house), and in the strickerei (knitting workplace) for the women, under the management of Dabnin and Biniakovski. The machines were brought from the ghetto. In the machine repair shop I came across a package of tefillin strips which were brought from the ghetto to be used as machine strips.

On one of the last days of November, when I was about to leave and go to Pancherka, I received an order from Gurevitz that I must stay in the camp to work. Why? He did not know, but maybe it was also for the better.

I'm looking for an opportunity to go out on the town. Maybe my Polish acquaintances will be able and willing to help me, and if so, how do you get to Kalworisky Street? I sell my last coat, my only treasure, for six thousand marks to the German soldier King. I paid five thousand marks to Alperovitz to stop the car on the way to work for two minutes. On the way he stopped the car, and I immediately went to the Gentile I knew. There was nothing to talk about with you. Every minute I spent with them was unnecessary, they did not want me to enter their house at all.

The practice here was that everyone signs their name in the register when they come to work at 6 in the morning, not like in Pancherka, where they used to do a daily appell (roll call). I decided not to sign on the Sabbath, because there is no piku'ach nefesh^[101] situation that involved setting aside [the rules prohibiting certain types of work on] the Sabbath. The foreman noticed me being in the locksmith's workshop, and when he passed by later and checked which of the workers was missing, he noticed that my signature was missing and thought that I had forgotten to sign. He came to me complaining about the fact that I forgot to write down my name, and when he received an answer that it was on purpose, he couldn't believe what he heard. He didn't understand what the matter of the Sabbath had to do with work. In fact, it was the first time that he was hearing such a thing existed in the world. He didn't rest. It was clear that his rule is being undermined. He ran to the director of the labor office Shapira (Yashka) and told him about it. The director came and asked me to sign only this Sabbath and next week they would make special arrangements (early signing). The young worker's firmness of opinion did indeed arouse their anger. This became the talk of the town. Brigadier Schneider came and started shouting and cursing, and when it didn't help him, he started with soft words, and finally stopped. I don't know what motivated them not to draw conclusions. Apparently, they knew how to overcome their prestige, at last they encountered Jews who appreciate and know how to behave properly towards what was missing for themselves. The foreman would arrange for them on the Sabbath light, special jobs

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that did not require the violation of serious prohibitions. On the following Friday, he signed the register. Luckily for him, the German Schiermeister came on Saturday morning to check if they were not being deceived and people sign in advance. He took the book and started flipping through it looking for signatures in advance. The face of the brigadier changed colors frequently. I stood next to the table, prepared for anything. Luckily, he went over the page upon which my name was signed and didn't notice my signature. The brigadier looked at me and blurted out: You see!”

It was 10 o'clock. There was a roll call of the workers working in menial jobs in the courtyard. About 35 people, most of them single men, of the 110 men employed by the Gestapo, were being transferred to a special room. A car arrived and the Jewish policemen led them to the car. The scene was horrifying. Individuals who were aware of the situation began to run away and were caught by the police and taken back to the car. The last one caught was the writer Semiatitzky. It was clear to me that even there, in the camp in Ponary, when they burned the bodies of their brothers, he encouraged their spirits and saw in his mind's eye the day of liberation.

The camps that remained in the city communicated among each other via the Jewish [prisoners] who worked for the Gestapo. On Sundays, they brought news. Sometimes they also brought a cart loaded with bread and other food needs from the Gestapo warehouses, as well as clothes. For the survivors of the Gestapo, it was a real salvation. They remembered to inform us about new prisoners brought to the Gestapo from the melinas, and about Polish and Lithuanian informers who wanted to get rid of the Jews, and even about a Jewish informer.

One day Kittel appeared, took the police officer Skeen, and wanted to hang him in the middle of the courtyard. When Skeen was standing on the bench with the rope around his neck, Kittel spoke a few words to him, took him off the rope, and put him in a closed car, accompanied by first-rate security. Apparently, he realized that Skeen didn't really know where Dessler's melina was and he let him go. However, as a result of the arrest of police officers Halperin and Nusbaum, Dessler's melina, which had several other people in it, was seized. The only one in that melina who managed to escape was Pinsker. Among those arrested were Trapido and Orbach and their families.

A German officer brought Torah scrolls to a leather workshop so they could sew a bag for him from the scrolls.^[102] The workers promised to sew a nice bag for him, but not from these scrolls as they were not suitable for it. There was an intention behind their words. When the officer left, Reb Yosef Shub (a Chassid of Lubavitch) took the Torah scrolls and buried them. When he came to me, to the smithy, we decided, that in order to be certain, we will execute the genizah by fire,^[103] and we had reasons to do so. We burned the Torah scrolls. Schiermeister Drescher, who was present at the time of the negotiations with that officer, went back to the leather workshop and asked for the Torah scrolls. Without a choice, they said they burned them in the oven. He became furious and shouted: “It is impossible that something that was in the possession of a German officer, would be burned by an accursed Jew!” He beat Rabbi Yosef with all his might and wanted to kill him with his gun. For several days he hovered between life and death from the force of the blows he received. When I asked him how he felt, he answered with a slight smile: Is there any greater pleasure than when you know what and why you are beaten!

Seres' son went to the village of Soroktatar^[104] in a German car with Polish workers to bring firewood. He had money in his hand. On the way he was caught by [Lithuanian] partisans. They took Seres with them and burned the car. The Poles returned and delivered the news. A heavy guard was placed on the Seres family. The fate of the family and the fate of the entire camp was at stake. The tension lasted for several days, until the Gestapo agreed to accept the version that the partisans arrested him because of the money they found on him and killed him.

The teacher Apeskin worked at a menial job. In the evenings, he sat and prepared songs for the school children to sing at the Purim ball. He was preparing a show for Purim. Bargolsky and his wife helped him. There was no shortage of people in the camp for the last show on Purim. Yes, the favorite song, Ale wagen tzien kein ponar (All roads lead to Ponary) still echoes in my ears even today.

No writer has yet been born who can describe in words the great lamentation for that black day, Monday, the third of Nisan 5704 [March 27, 1944], when the Jewish children were taken from the H.K.P. and Kailis^[105] camps, among them was also our beloved Yocheved. May they remain in their holiness forever with God's help.

The parents have not yet recovered from the loss of their children and the Pesach holiday, the holiday of freedom, was approaching. Will we receive the holiday with chametz?^[106] Is there another sacred thing left in life worth living and suffering for? When a glimmer of hope appeared that there might be another possibility to save those taken to die, the hope ignited in the hearts. I spoke with the uncle of Commandant Kolesh, who was an old man and with Shapira (the father), and the three of us went

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to the commandant with a request that they would let us make matzahs for Pesach. It was hard to hear how the elders asked for this dispensation to the people who wanted it. And I told him, with a vibration of holiness, in words that came from the heart, that the people of the camp want and demand to eat matzah on Pesach, because it might be the last Pesach in their lives. I also added: “This very thing will be engraved for generations, that in the year 5704, the last Jews of Vilna in the H.K.P. camp ate matzah, despite the opposition of the Gestapo officers, while you were the commandant of the camp.” The order was given and the kolkhoz^[107] oven worked on Pesach Eve, and also on Chol HaMoed,^[108] because they didn't have enough time until Pesach Eve to prepare enough matzahs. The devotion in actually preparing the matzah and the work in fadrat was done with reverence. There was no apartment in which a Seder was not held. We also provided matzahs to the Gestapo workers. The general kitchen was rendered kosher and during the holiday only potatoes and beets were cooked. Only a few remained who ate non-kosher food.

An order went out from the SS man that all the camp workers must cut their hair, shave off all their hair. His intention was to ensure that Jews would be recognizable on the street by their haircuts. We were thankful that at least he didn't force the women to also cut their hair.

Applicants for exit licenses have increased recently. The first in line were the parents of the children who remained in the camp, and who were currently imprisoned in special melinas that were prepared for children. The parents would go out to look for a hiding place among the Gentiles. They would get a German or Lithuanian escort, who would accompany them officially to the doctor in town, or to buy special things for the camp.

The angel of death had no control over the camp. When the first Jew, Feinberg of Kovno, who was fifty years old, died of a heart attack, it was a surprise in the camp. It was not for nothing that the old Sternshus was jealous of him, saying: “Good Lord, if only you had granted me such a natural death! I don't know if I could have hoped for greater happiness than this!” We gave him all the respect he deserved: Shrouds, purity [ritual bathing], and we buried him in the corner of the yard. And when the SS man approved the identity of the body in the coffin, the matter was over.

In the morning of one day, it was learned that an order had been received to send people to the Kozlovo Ruda camp. The first in line were the relief cases, single men from the 110 who were employed by the Gestapo. The people were imprisoned, until the car came and took them, accompanied by a guard, and drove them to the place.

The synagogue in Sternshus' house was full to the brim. The commandant also came for Yizkor.^[110] Before Yizkor, Idele (Yitzhak Sheskin from Shavel [Lithuanian: Šiauliai]) said a few words. He recalled the words of the Chazal [Jewish sages] about the foxes coming out of the ruined temple. “Remember that there are still Jewish hearts that are surged in the memory that we are here. Rabbi Akiva laughed when he saw the foxes coming out of the temple, saying, “If the words of the prophet were fulfilled, ‘foxes walked in it,’ there is still hope that his words will be fulfilled: ‘the day will come when virgins will be in the cities of Judah and in the streets of Jerusalem.’ Let us hope that after the darkness the light will come, and we will have comfort in seeing Zion and Jerusalem.”^[111] Everyone present at the scene remained speechless, and the big and difficult question that hung in the air was: “Is this possible?”

Lately, we have started to notice that there is an awakening among the former underground people, and when we would tell them openly that there is an opportunity to take over the guard and go out into the forest at night, the underground people would laugh and say, when the day comes, we will do that too. The connection they had with the partisans went through Yosik Shapira, who worked in the annahme (the reception area), in the guard area, by the gate. However, since he was under the authority of Kolesh and his friend was Elka Gurevitz, he would probably give evasive answers. If we had known about the visits of Zeldka Trager, the partisan, who risked her life and came to take people to the forest, the situation would have been completely different. The only thing we knew about was that the underground was preparing a cave for them to escape through in case of need. Indeed, the cave was not finished, and when the members of the underground wanted to escape through it, they were caught by the Gestapo. Dreizin threw a stink bomb inside the cave. About 35 people with their weapons in their hands suffocated in the cave.

Mr. Fentzer, uncrowned brigadier of the camp, a former teacher, would disappear from his house every evening, together with Zemigrod, who was in charge of the tree division in the basement. Both of them dug and arranged and disguised melinas inside the basement, one inside the other, with hidden and disguised passages. In fact, more than thirty people were saved in these melinas. The on-site lab technicians, who created the “jam,”^[112] arranged a melina (disguised room) on the roof of the carpentry shop. Also there, people sat and saw through the holes everything that happened in the courtyard during the liquidation of the camp. In this way several dozen people were saved.

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The Kiddush HaShem^[113] of My Friend Yitzchak, Known as Idele

Every day I would meet Idele at the Beit Shaul synagogue. The policeman's uniform didn't suit him, a pale guy with the deep and dreamy eyes.

At the time of celebrations and graduations in the yeshiva, he was always among the first, because he himself was a yeshiva student, born in Shavel [Šiauliai], Lithuania. He always found suitable phrases for the time and the matter, he knew how to emphasize, stimulate, and comfort. His speeches were always wrapped around one topic: “The Land of Israel.”

He was one of the only police officers, and perhaps the only one among those in the ghetto, who was admired by all circles. Even the opponents of the police would say of him: “Idol is the proof that one can be a policeman, and yet an honest, loyal, and good Jew.”

After the liquidation of the ghetto, he also remained in the H.K.P. camp in Vilna as a policeman in the Pancherka branch of the H.K.P. and was promoted. The Lithuanian and German guards were also satisfied with him. The number of Jewish workers was precisely registered with him: Those going to work, the sick, and those traveling every day to the H.K.P. camp were recorded strictly, because he fulfilled his work with great responsibility. In his free time, he was inseparable from the small Bible that he kept in his pocket and read it. And sometimes, in the middle the work, he went to find out an idea or a verse in the Bible.

He went every day to the Pancherka with a small tin in his hand, in which he prepared his meager meal (he did not eat from the pot for kosher reasons). He observed the light commandments as well as the severe ones. On Shabbats he used to perform the usual roll call. Some of the workers would go to the H.K.P. camp on Subotch Street, and some would stay at the Pancherka.

On Shabbats he was the counter and his colleague wrote down the numbers, because Idele, of course, did not write on Shabbat. The list would remain in his hands, because he was the one in charge. This was the practice for many years. No one noticed it because everything was regularly [in order].

The commandant of the German guard probably felt this, but did not dare to tell him, because he appreciated his service. Until the incident on one of the Shabbats in [the Hebrew month of] Iyar in the year 5704, in which the SS man came together with the German guard to visit the camp.

Idele arranged his men in rows, counted them as usual, and the roll call went smoothly. His colleague wrote down all the necessary numbers and gave it to Idele as he was the person in charge. The details from the roll call were given to the visitor and the roll call ended.

But suddenly the visitor, an SS person, turned to Idele and asked: “Are you the one in charge? “Yes!” – He replied. According to the SS person's way of asking we knew something was going to happen.

All of the workers standing in the rows remained standing in their places, tense and waiting to see what would happen here. “Why don't you write down the number of people you counted?” the SS man asked Idele. Idele took the note and said, “Please check, visiting gentleman, here is the list of the roll call.” “Can you tell me why you didn't write it down yourself?” said the SS person, with a special emphasis on the word “you.”

The people standing in the rows, 120 men, froze in their places, seeing the German's cruelty, as he took his rifle, aimed it at Idele, and screamed with the voice of a predatory animal: “I command you to write down the number of people in your handwriting immediately.”

Idele remained silent in his place, pale as chalk, and in a loud and proud voice answered: “I will not write! I do not write on the Sabbath!”

The SS man was furious at the brazen answer of a camp Jew, took back three measured steps, and with his cocked rifle poised in front of Idele, he screamed at the cursed Jew: “I command you. This is a final warning. Write immediately! And if you do not - I will shoot you!”

With hands shaking in annoyance, Idele unbuttoned his shirt in front of his heart and looked at the SS man with contempt, and in a quiet, confident, and proud voice he said, pointing to his heart, “You can shoot me – I will not write on the Sabbath!”

All the members of the camp remained stuck in their places as if without understanding of what was occurring here! Everyone just felt that their end was coming. Idele would surely be the first victim, and after him it will be their turn. Their surprise was enormous when the SS man lowered his rifle while staring at the ground, and ordered everyone to disperse.

The Sabbath defeated the SS man.

And Yitzchak stood the test. Blessed are you for it.

Friday, June 30, 1944

In the early hours of the morning, a rumor spread in the H.K.P. labor camp that the workers in the department that repairs the radios in the buses managed to hear a broadcast from a radio station in Moscow, “that Disna was occupied by the Soviets.”

Disna is a Polish city located on the border of Poland- Russia, about two hundred and fifty kilometers north of Vilna, today [it is in] White Russia [Belarus].

In a flash, the news spread from mouth to mouth in all corners of the camp. It's been a long time since we were put behind the barbed wire fences that we felt that great things were happening in the big world. Although we had no clear knowledge of what was going on outside, we could guess that the convoys consisting of freight buses and tow trucks - full of soldiers, equipment, and ammunition - that we saw passing through Subotch Street from the direction of the Lipovka^[114]-Oshmyany road into the city, from east to west, were sent according to a special order, and that together with them, the front is moving from the east to the west, near to our environs.

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Also, the sudden order received in the camp that we must accelerate the repair of the buses and fill them with firewood, so that they will be suitable for immediate travel service, also confirmed that the front was approaching us. The employees of the Pancherka branch received a similar order as well.

A German engineer who is also an army officer, prepared a plan for a machine that bends steel springs for cars. He engaged the camp's locksmith workshop to carry out his plan with several employees from our department at his disposal. He came, as usual, to work today as well as worked himself and gave orders to the workers that were working with him, as if nothing had happened.

Every moment a whisper passed between the employees. Here the upholsterers and leather workers received an order to prepare and finish all the work, the saddles, the mattresses, the tarpaulins, and all the things suitable for use and to move them to their designated places. The employees of the toibenhois^[115] (the electrical department) were ordered to disassemble the machines from the laboratory and pack them in perfect order in boxes intended for this.

The carpentry unit was ordered to work in three shifts from today. The carpentry workers must prepare boxes for packing objects and equipment. Every hour, freight buses brought new boards to work, and loaded the prepared boxes on them. The bus traffic in the yard was very great. We were working at full speed.

We knew that these are the days we have been waiting for. We have talked about these days for years, and here we actually feel that the zero hour is approaching. But who can tell if this was also our window of opportunity. We were among the privileged to feel their impending end. But who knows if we will also be privileged to fulfill our last request to feel the full revenge?

Since the fall of Stalingrad,^[116] they [the Germans] have been going downhill. And even so, according to our calculations, the march [of the Russian army] from Disna to Vilna could last several weeks. And since now, during the summer days, it will be possible in times of need to get by in the forests and fields for a certain time, then our only request of the Lord of All is to hasten our redemption. What needs to happen, let it happen during the summer, when the sun is shining, and let it not last until the days of the rains or winter.

I work today in a locksmith's workshop. The work is ponderous. I feel that my co-workers are not working properly either. The glances of our eyes often meet, and it seems to me that our thoughts are also the same. Our trend is certainly uniform, our thoughts are directed towards one channel, and that is to break free.

From time to time, I raise my eyes to the small window and to the iron bars that separate us from the free world. I continue working, and see only the window and the bars, [and] the garden and the trees stretching behind the window. Imaginary plans are woven in my mind, but life until now is not just a figment of my imagination.

The locksmith's workshop was divided into four rooms. The first room, in which the soldering machines (the shveiserey) were located, was by the entrance. It was divided into two rooms whose windows faced the courtyard in front of the guard house. Thus, escape through the windows was out of the question. In the third room there was an engraving machine, and the fourth room, where we worked, had a small window with bars facing the garden. A Lithuanian guard was posted in the garden. The garden was four meters lower than the window. Vegetables and potatoes grew in the garden, which also had some trees. The main problem was how to saw the iron bars so that no sound would be heard when sawing them and how to create the appearance until evening that they were still intact.

My eyes meet those of my co-workers. The co-worker next to me hints to me: It will only be necessary to “stand on all six” for five moments and the bars will be fine. Yes, he was just reading my mind (six is the sign used to inform one another in times of danger, when the guard comes in, or when a German is getting closer).

Brigadier Schneider entered. He felt that we were not focused on our work, and, as usual, he raised his voice shouting: “Keep on working! The day has only begun! You will still have time to plan things,” and then hurried out, which was not typical of his routine. I feel that he too is troubled. After all, he is also a member of the persecuted people like us, and he also thinks like us, and perhaps his feet brought him here, unintentionally, because his thought is also concentrated on the bars of this narrow window. I am sure that he is anxious and knows and feels that there is one small and weak soul, his little son, who is waiting impatiently in a hideout with a Gentile, for his father and a mother, who will come to him to bring him out of darkness into light, and from slavery to freedom.^[117]

I feel a glimmer of hope and confidence in me after I decided to run away from here, from the camp, as soon as possible. The day passes in terrible tension. Those close to the “authority” and the privileged ones appealed to the commandant of the camp, Mr. Kolesh, with a request to give them a permit to leave the camp and go to the city. They are talking about legendary sums in foreign currency, which people are willing to pay for exit permits, on the grounds that a place must be prepared for a time of need, and perhaps they already intend to go to the places prepared for them in advance. But the commandant remains steadfast in his opinion. His only answer is: “You will have enough time, don't panic, there is still time.”

The people cannot stay in their rooms. They walk around the yard, asking every moment about the news that the officers might have heard from the Lithuanian guard. The question that hangs over all of the people in the camp was what would be our fate, what would happen to us, [and] which changes would apply to us?

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We gathered to welcome the Sabbath in our synagogue, in the apartment of the Sternshus family. The lantern in honor of Sabbath was lit, its light seemed brighter today than on any other Shabbat. In the house, the holiness of the Sabbath was felt in every corner. Even the worshipers did not behave normally, they did not talk as usual, [and] they were gathered within themselves. Rabbi Yosef Shub, the Chassid from Lubovitz, who passes in front of the ark, did not behave as usual. He extended his prayer today. The devotion in the words that came out of his mouth was different today. It seemed to me as if he was not the one who passed in front of the ark, he was not the one praying. It seems as if there was someone else inside him, completely different, who moved and spoke from his own throat.

And as if by a magic wand, all of the worshipers began to help the prayer leader, some with sighs, some repeating the well-known words, which have been repeated and said for hundreds of years, and it seemed that they had never felt their meaning, which is not implied in two ways, more than on this day: “You lived enough in the vale of tears” (rav lach shevet be'emek habacha) …

Who can understand the souls of the worshipers when they prayed before the Great Lord, when all their bones ache and plead for good advice from the Great Lord… It seemed as if these few words had found their meaning today in an instant. These words became a guideline to those who walk in darkness. It was as if a prophecy was thrown into the space of the holy place, which was engraved and deeply stuck in the souls of the worshipers in this situation in the camp, and which led to the firm decision to escape from this camp at any cost; “You lived enough in the vale of tears.”

It was 7 o'clock in the evening. There was a curfew in the town. The whole environment was shrouded in darkness. Only the rumble of the engines of the trucks, loaded with soldiers and equipment and continuing their way to the city, could be heard in the distance. Also, the rumble of the armored SS trucks, the ones that make their special whistles, could be heard very often. The entire universe was shrouded in darkness, not a single ray of light was visible. The residents of the camp were also ordered to stay in the dark and not be visible to the enemy. But the spark of hope that began to flicker in the depths of the heart was spreading and getting excited and burst into a great flame. It was not possible to extinguish the hope that has begun to fill our entire being. It invented inventions, plotted conspiracies, waited for something hidden to be revealed to help us and take us out of the vale of tears.

In every corner of the courtyard, in the corridors and in the stairwell, there were Jews, young and old, fathers and sons, women with their husbands, consulting and discussing. The only question was: What should we do? Is it time to get out and run away? And if so - how to get out? And where should we go?

I urged my friends and acquaintances who worked at the Pancherka not to hurry back from their workplace to the camp tomorrow, but rather try, as much as possible, to escape from there straight away to the forests, the fields, or to Gentiles outside the city. Although the Pancherka was inside a military area and the evasion possibilities were only limited, the consequences of an escape for all the workers were much smaller compared to the consequences for the camp. After all, there were 120 single men in Pancherka compared to about 1,300 people in the camp, some of whom have families and children.

Rotman asked if it was permissible, according to the Halacha,^[118] to drive the next day, the Sabbath, by car to the place of work in Pancherka in order to escape from there, or if it was better to stay here in the camp in Subotch and wait, - What for? why? - For the unknown.

The members of the underground walked with their heads held high. They were certain. Of what? – It was unknown. Maybe they were certain they will be able to use in the last moments the tunnel they dug to escape from the camp, to be free.

The time is 12:30. Major Plagge appeared in the camp yard. In a moment he was surrounded on all sides. He stood in the middle of the circle together with the brigadiers and the commandant of the camp, Mr. Kolesh, and talked about daily matters calmly. For a moment, the distance that always accompanied the Germans with the highest military ranks, and also the Jewish leadership regarding us, disappeared. We saw and felt that something serious was about to happen. Major Plagge has announced that starting today the H.K.P. labor camp is being transferred from the authority of the H.K.P. to the authority of the SS, [and] the Jews together with their families will be moved to Kovno. The Subotch camp will be dismantled. In Kovno, the workers will continue to work under the supervision of the SS. It is possible that in Kovno the camp will be transferred back to the authority of the H.K.P. He gave the workers his word that no harm would come to them. And since the one who made the promise was Plagge, many workers were ready (or wanted) to believe him. After all, Plagge was the great fighter for the benefit of his employees (if not for the fact that he will stay away from the front…), therefore he could be trusted. (Plagge was a major in the [German] army [and] among the first thousand who registered as member of the S.D. Party^[119]).

At that moment, Plagge's words that I heard him saying nine months before flickered in my mind, that “my Jews will remain the last.” These were the words of a good Nazi.^[120] He has done his part and now he was leaving. The thing I already knew became even clearer and that is that there is only one way ahead of us, which was to leave as soon as possible at any cost. But how?

It was the Shabbat afternoon of the first day of July 1944. The first news that the Pancherka workers brought today was that three workers had escaped in the middle of a day, during work, from the camp in Pancherka, and no one noticed them. Their wives, who remained in the camp, are the first to feel their absence. They do not know

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how to respond to the news, whether to be satisfied with the fact that half of the family has already gone free, or perhaps to the contrary, who knows if they alone will be given the possibility of escape.

In the locksmith's workshop, some managed to hide in order to escape through the window in the evening, in the dark. The guys had already had time to saw and eliminate the iron bars of the window. The brigadier of the locksmith's workshop, Schneider, sensed the hideouts and drove them away. After all, he was responsible until the very last moment.

Today the work was finished at noon as usual. Except for the carpentry unit, which worked at full speed in 3 shifts. Apparently, the underground people were also busy, and those close to them did not utter a word, as they were ordered, and did not say anything about the melina that they had prepared or were preparing. Through the windows, today for the first time, the heads of the children who survived the aktziya held on the third of Nisan, March 27, 1944, can be seen. All the time they were imprisoned in the double walls that had been prepared for them or in the camouflaged rooms, and today, apparently, their parents allowed them to walk around freely. Because today there was no difference, we all shared the same fate and there was no fear that they will want to discriminate against the children even today. A few of the mothers whose children were among the survivors turned to the camp commandant, Mr. Kolesh, and asked for an exit permit. However, he gave everyone the same answer: Don't panic, you will have enough time. But he did not know what to say to his associates either. Only a few of the Gestapo employees had time to leave the camp and head to the city (they had special permits to go into the city). They returned in the evening, before the curfew time. Each of them had connections with certain Gentiles. They talked about shelters which the Gentiles were preparing in the city, and that even in the city a state of war was beginning to be felt. All the signs indicated that the [Russian] front was approaching us very quickly.

…The sun has set. Darkness has covered the ground. Shadows of people hiding, engulfed in the darkness that covers the area between the second block and the workshop. The locksmith's workshop building, which was once used as a bath house and a place of ritual purification [mikveh] for the surrounding area, secretly welcomes the guests, who hope to see light through you.

On our way (my wife and I) to the locksmith's workshop, we met Betty and Boria Golomb. From them we learned that the commandant was not in control of the situation and did not know what to do. His wife and her family, the Shapira family, were thinking of leaving tonight, perhaps through the locksmith's workshop. We went down the stairs, and with quick steps approached the door of the locksmith's workshop. Our hearts were pounding. We were on the verge of freedom. Another five steps and we are beyond the vale of tears. God, I pray to you, I called upon the Lord in distress, the Lord answered me and set me in a large place! (Min hameitzar karati yah, anani bamerchav yah.^[121])

And here what happened all of a sudden? Beams of electric light illuminate us, accompanied by familiar shouts. Apparently, we haven't suffered enough. We could not stay there! We were not allowed to enter the locksmith's workshop, because upon entering we will discover those who were already there and perhaps also the place itself. And who knows if it won't eventually take revenge on us. Without a choice, we retrace our steps. In front of us walked other people who followed us in the same direction.

What had happened? The policeman Shukstulsky went on guard duties in the yard as usual. He felt people dodging towards the locksmith's workshop and started shouting. The commandant's family, with his wife, also arrived. People talked to the policeman and asked him to stop his shouting and to give people the option of exiting through the locksmith's workshop, but he persistently stood and shouted: “Do not pass; enter the middle of the corridor!”

The poor policeman didn't know and didn't feel that with these shouts, he was changing the world of dozens, maybe hundreds, of people and maybe his own world as well, because he so longed for freedom, and for the freedom to avenge his parents, relatives, and family. I know that for months he would come almost every day to the blacksmith's shop and install “a special knife” with which he could avenge the blood of those he loved. Those who were related to him tried to whisper in his ear, but perhaps he understood the situation and, in this way, wanted to say that it was best to wait a while until the situation calmed down. But the poor man was mistaken. All it took was one word uttered by someone out loud, and the German guard, which consisted of simple soldiers who were afraid of their own shadows, and in particular of the image of the SS men in charge of them, immediately appeared, as if from under the ground, and with guns in hand they forced us to return to the corridor of the block. Armed soldiers were placed on guard at all ends of the camp.

At the first entrance of the corridor, from the second block, there was a warehouse. In this warehouse there was an entrance to the underground tunnel, which reached all the way behind the barbed wire fences. Now, people who happened to be here, as well as certain people whose intention was known in advance, were entering into this tunnel. Two people entered through the opening each time. My wife and I were also standing and waiting in line. Those standing by the entrance claimed that it was necessary to arrange the interior of the tunnel properly. In the meantime, as if from under the ground, an SS man from the guard arrived, accompanied by armed soldiers. He started yelling heraus! [get out!], which was the sign to start using their weapons, clubs and sticks. At first, we each lay down in our places, under the firewood and pretended to be asleep, but as soon as the soldiers entered, they shone their flashlights on the sleeping people and started beating them. There was no choice but to get out of there. In the meantime, the blows from above did not stop. I let my wife pass first, while I defended her with my back

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and suffering all the blows one after another, in German order, damned be their name! For the first time I felt satisfied with the blows, knowing that there is a reward for the blows, and for each blow I said to myself the verse “I offered my back the those who beat” (Isaiah 39^[122]).

Behind the door in the corridor, we are being chased again. Downstairs, no one is allowed in, the rooms were actually closed. Boria and Betty Golomb are the first to run and dodge into a room in the chemical laboratory, the place where they would make the famous jam from potato waste. We also escaped there for a moment, maybe in the meantime we will find a shelter for a while and the running and the beatings and the pullings will stop. But a new difficulty appeared: Kravitz, one of the dignitaries of the camp, raised his voice and said: “What is this here, a kloise?” The question was too shameful, because it was aimed at me. He forgot that the kloise serves not only as a place of refuge, but for something more than that.

However, the term kloise that I heard encouraged my spirit and brought back to me the familiar feeling that there is something standing by us to help us, and the assurance that filled my heart seemed to have found a relief. I felt sorry for the man who in a moment lost the image of God. We can no longer stay in this place. It is better to be beaten by a scum of the earth than to be stabbed by the tongue of a Jew who shares the same trouble as you do.

We were pushed with the flow of people to the upper floors, even in the corridors above we are not allowed to stand. We found rest in a large communal room. Here the soldiers did not bother us. The room was full of people from Block A. Here we learned about dozens of people who managed to escape from the camp through the window in the locksmith's workshop.

The final calculation we made on the spot was that we missed the opportunity. For now, there was no option to escape through the locksmith's workshop. There was no other suitable place to escape from, and so, again, we were between the heavens and the earth, and we were eager a good advice. And as in any similar situation when you hesitate and are full of doubts and look for a solution for your desperate situation, you search and look back to your past, maybe you will find a way out there. In my mind I saw myself in that supreme position on the eve of Pesach 5688 [April 4, 1928], when one bright day the Chofetz Chaim,^[123] of blessed memory, called the students of the Radun yeshiva together, and asked that they each take it upon themselves to study a chapter of Mishnayot Kodashim^[124] per day during the duration of the bein ha-zmanim,^[125] and he sent a letter to all of the yeshivas that all the students of the yeshivas will do so. “Imagine,” the Chofetz Chaim used to say, “what an impression this will make on God, when eight thousand chapters of Mishnayot Kodashim (which was the number of yeshiva students that were under the authority of the yeshivas committee) will arrive there, (how many of the students of the yeshiva were found at the time by the board of yeshiva), what awakening from above it would be!”

I continue my account with God: “And where is the awakening from above from the thousands of sighs that now arise every moment from the hearts of thousands of broken and oppressed people? This, Lord, you will certainly not despise! In addition to this, the groans of orphans, the cries of prisoners and the cries of miserable widows, and together with them will rise up hundreds of Mishnayot chapters, which were learned and memorized by heart, due to lack of books and fear of the enemy. Gemara^[126] pages that were learned and memorized by Torah scholars, hungry and barefoot, who go out to be slaughtered and perish even when the sword is placed on their necks, they do not stop reciting them. And the fundamental question that is asked in full seriousness is: Have these kept us alive until now and let us feel the feeling of freedom beginning to flicker in the depths of our souls, in order to multiply our suffering and take revenge on us in the last one?

The echo of the gunshots in the courtyard stopped my thoughts. We headed towards the courtyard door, we searched and looked through the windows, maybe something will be clarified. Not a few moments passed and we saw the guard was leading some prisoners towards the dungeon in Block B. It turned out that some people who wanted to escape through the locksmith's workshop to the garden in order to escape were caught after several shots and taken to the dungeon. Among the prisoners were also Kolesh's brother-in-law, Lialke Gurvitz and his wife, the blacksmith Rabin, and more. The only small hole to the freedom was discovered, and for that our hearts were anguished.

It was difficult to recognize the people of the camp during these hours, their appearance has completely changed in your eyes. It was the first time since the Children's Aktziya of the third of Nisan 5704, that the mothers took out their children from their hiding places. The children also felt that something big is about to happen. Although their eyes were unable to look directly into peoples' faces, upon talking to them, it was clear that the terror and fear that were instilled in them over time deepened the imprint on their soft hearts.

It was Sunday morning, 3:30 am.

The Jewish police called all the people of the camp, men and women, for the roll call. We were uncertain whether we should go out or stay in. Before we made up our minds, our policeman and the German guard entered and shouted: “Heraus! They counted and repeated their count, and finally one hundred and eighty-five people were missing. Among the missing, there are also some privileged people, who were close to the “royal court.” (That is, close to the family of the commandant of the camp, Kolesh).

The SS man in charge of our camp, the Golo-sheike, as we called him in the camp, (due to his long neck) did the calculations. The policemen searched all the places and all the hiding places and were unable to bring more people.

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The commandant recommended to the SS man to give the people an extension so that they can think and make up their minds until the next roll call that will occur in a few hours, and by then they will be convinced that they are indeed going to Kovno. We breathed a sigh of relief when we saw that the SS man accepted the commandant's opinion. We were instructed to go to our rooms and be ready for the next appell.

We now sensed that we had made a big mistake when we spent too much time wondering if it was worthwhile to escape through the window of the locksmith's workshop and, as a result, we missed the rare opportunity that we had had a few hours before.

We scattered, each with his own thoughts and plans. Some went to prepare and pack the necessary things, and some went to sleep until the second roll call.

My roommate Noah Popko and his partner at the oven were conferring as to whether it was worth baking bread for sale today as usual, because life has its own demands. While talking, they arranged the bowl with the flour for baking. The work of people at these moments seems a little strange. Especially the thought of earning a few pennies, but apparently the iron law is the instinct of existence planted by God in the hearts of the creatures and this instinct probably works in all circumstances and conditions!

After the failure of our decision to escape through the locksmith's workshop window, it was clear that a new and enhanced effort was needed, in a new direction. There was no choice left, but to look for a hiding place in the camp itself in some melina. Sitting and waiting for the transfer to Kovno, as many thought, was also out of the question, because we have decided not to be misled this time. The problem we faced was to find a melina [in which we could hide] for a few days. We were aware of several people who at the time handled the arrangement of the melina, but currently they were not seen nor heard. The talk in the camp was that the payment for entering a melina had reached legendary amounts. I went down to the yard to check with my acquaintances [to see if] perhaps something might pop up.

Sunday, 2.7.1944 at 8:00 am. There are many people in the yard. The nimble Rudnik, who always knows how to get along with the Germans, walks around the yard between the buses. It was said that he wants to sneak his family into one of the buses, and with the help of his German acquaintances, get out of the camp to the city. However, even his acquaintances do not want to get involved in these matters at such a time.

Behind the barbed wire fences surrounding the camp, on the city side, a large movement is felt. Hundreds of Gentiles wearing holiday clothes walked accompanied by their children towards the city, to their houses of worship. All of the surroundings are crowded with people. And maybe the citizens already know that the front is also approaching us and that is why they find it necessary to go to their houses of worship.

The windows of the soldering room faced directly to the annahme (reception room) and the guard post in the courtyard's gate. Wire fences also separated the windows from the outside by a few meters. And here, suddenly, all eyes were directed to that window, on the edge of which Keidan put one of his legs, and on the post of the wire stairs his other leg, and with full momentum he jumped towards the barbed wire fences to Subotch Street, wandered among the Gentile residents and disappeared. After him, Yankele the coachman and Kaydan's sister-in-law climbed up the window, and before we could grasp what had happened here, the escapees were already behind the camp among hundreds of residents walking in the street. The guard opened fire on the escapees; however, they knew the surroundings with all its alleys and as they ran on the sidewalks, they disappeared from the sight of the guarding soldiers.

After this act, the locksmith's workshop was locked with a bolt and a lock. The walkers were not allowed to approach near the fences and the guards began to carefully supervise those walking around the yard.

The yard was crowded with people that day. New faces were also seen. Many came out of the melinas to breathe fresh air and prepare a side for the journey. You think of those who escaped from the camp, that although they are in great danger, they still have chances of being rescued, even if it would be necessary not to eat for a few days. It's not so horrible during the summer time if they could find ways to get to the forests, to the ruins, maybe even with the assistance of few Gentiles who would be interested in helping them, as they know that Jews are willing and able to pay a lot.

Brigadier Pancher was in the yard. He looked very depressed that day. I know him as a man of noble spirit; I worked with him back in the camp in Savonoria. That day it felt as if a heavy burden was placed on him. I approached him and spoke straight to the point: Can you allow us to enter your melina? (I knew that he had arranged a melina).

In good faith he replied: “It is true that I have a melina, but the melina was designed for 15 people, and currently there are over forty in it. Also, the Jewish police in the camp knows about it, and I, as far as I'm concerned, do not want to be held responsible for it” …

I felt that the decision was difficult for him. I met with those who claim that they belong to the underground, maybe salvation will not grow from them either, because who knows if they are indeed members of the underground.

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The Second Roll Call at 9:30

The Jewish policemen whistle their whistles incessantly, they run together with the Lithuanian guard in the corridor of the blocks and shout that everyone must go down to the roll call. The illegal old men, as well as the women and children in the yard, were counted, and again about the same number of people was still missing.

The SS man, the Golo-sheike pulled his long neck. He was not ready to trust anyone; for this reason, he counted each quarter by himself and informed Commandant Kolesh that he will inform those in charge about this roll call, and that they will decide what to do, that is, what would be our fate.

The appell ended, and Mrs. Genia Zilberstein, an old woman, left the roll call and went directly to the annahme, her face looking straight forward to the annahme (the building standing at the entrance gate to the camp), entered through the yard into the annahme, passed through the rooms that were empty, and came out on the other side to the city street, without anyone noticing what she had done. Her decisiveness in finding her granddaughter (who now lives in Israel), who was hiding among the Gentiles, gave her the strength to accomplish this feat.

After her success to pass through the annahme, several other people tried to follow her act, but they were too late, the anname was locked with locks. The next day, when Ms. Zilberstein was walking in the city towards the camp, she saw the bus that was taking her son and daughter-in-law, with the rest of the camp people, to the well-known direction – Poholanka – Ponary.

There were still several cars left for dismantling in the Pancherka. The “guys” took care of that, in order to come up with an excuse to go there again and get out of the camp. That day there were many volunteers, among them many women. The veteran workers were angry, they did not have an empty place in the bus and stayed outside the bus. Their place was taken by the camp residents here. It seemed that the “rich men” were sitting on the bus and wanted to take advantage of the Pancherka for their benefit. The Pancherka workers' committee was opposed, and asked the police for help… Everyone understood the bitterness of the Pancherka workers. Whenever there had been an urgent need to fill a quota and go there to work, to work hard, without light, without water, without the family – no one could be found. At those times, no one volunteered to help. Therefore, now it was only fair that the Pancherka workers would be privileged to be redeemed in this way. “He who was prepared before Shabbat, will eat on Shabbat.” And in fact, everyone was of the same opinion, that they should leave in order not to return.

My wife found out about a melina from our neighbors, but it was impossible to stay in it. In the meantime, my wife arranged packages, bags with necessary items for an emergency. I was again looking in the yard, in the houses for a hiding place. Everywhere I turned I found people who ahead of me had a “hold” on the place. The inner door of the steam oven in the bath house was closed. Apparently, someone was already hiding there. Little Isrolik was walking around here and preparing some kind of hiding place for his mother. Up among the trees, Yoselzon arranged a corner for him, probably in the ceiling of the woodshed. He wanted to close it and stay inside. I reached the cellar and the barn, where Green was keeping the pigs and rabbits for the Germans. Even among these impure animals there was no hiding place, especially since the air there was very stifling. Meanwhile, time passed, and finding a possibility to be invisible seemed remote.

The time was 11:30. The yard was full of people, standing in groups and thinking. The Gestapo employees have already tried several times to talk to the gate guard, to allow them to leave the city only to reach the Gestapo and return, but the answer they received was a strict no. Suddenly, a taxi arrived at the yard, the yard's gates were widely opened, a clear sign that the Gestapo man in the taxi was on his way to block A.

Geller (the Gestapo employee) hurried over to the taxi. He innocently wanted to know why they won't let him go to work in the Gestapo. The look on his face when he returned clarified the answer he received. Panic arose in the yard. In a moment the yard was empty, everyone was running to the doors of the houses, rushing upstairs, to the upper floors, as if they are getting away from the scene of the disaster. Instinctively, I rushed to our room to find my wife. It was clear to me that these serious moments may be the last of our days here, and possibly the last days of our lives in general. Experience dictated that during the time of bein ha-metzarim,^[127] when one loses another, they would be lost forever.

On the stairs, right in front of the door to our room, I met my wife, a little frightened because she didn't know where I had disappeared to during these serious moments. We made our way together with our neighbors, the Popko family, in the opposite direction of all the runners. Everyone was rushing upstairs while went down the stairs, in the direction of Pancher's room.

There we met the wife of engineer Weslowsky, exactly at the moment she came out of the melina to breathe fresh air. Luckily for her, she was caught up in a strange situation. When she saw through the window the commotion that rose in the camp due to the arrival of the Gestapo men, she was anxious and looked for a place to hide, and so, without being noticed by anyone, she went to the melina again.

From the back door, leading to the stairwell, Hillel Parder and Elik Levy were suddenly seen upon entering, black and covered in mud and plaster from head to toe. In our presence

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they told Pancher and Mrs. Weslowsky that even if they were given all the fortune in the world, they would not return to the melina. They preferred to die under the dome of the sky and breathe in their last breath clean air and not go down to the melina and suffocate underground from lack of air and zero water, in mud and filth. Pancher did not lose his temper, he closed the doors and counted six people in total, including me and my wife. He didn't ask or demand anything, because he knew what we wanted. He didn't even get mad. This noble man only hinted to us to follow his neighbor to the room, Mrs. Weslowsky, and wished good luck. To my question, “and what will happen to you?” He answered me: “It's perfectly fine, I'm not going.” And he didn't go. As a camp leader, he didn't find the strength in his soul to leave his men and find shelter for himself in the last moments, but linked his life's fate with the fate of the working people, who disobeyed his discipline, and together with them made his last journey to Ponary. May his memory be blessed!

On the ground floor under the stairs there was a small warehouse closed with a lock. A person of medium height should bend down when entering. The thick cobwebs on the walls of the warehouse “remember” the Baron Hirsch, when he built these structures. Those concerned with camouflage did not have to worry about it too much. There were a lot of broken tools everywhere. In the left corner was a primitive toilet with a lock. On its side was a shelf and inside the toilet was a box which was not exactly an empty one… Everywhere were scattered broken glass from bottles, heavy firewood, pieces of rotten mattresses. So the things gave a natural impression of a woodshed that has been neglected for years, and not just in appearance. Mrs. Woslowsky, who was very tall, went first, bent down, and ordered us to walk quietly and stooped. She approached the toilet, whispered something (probably the password), and began to remove the shelf from the side, then the full box, which was arranged on wheels under the seating area. Under the box, inside the toilet was another shelf, which covered a hole that was opened to the basement of the house, to the melina. We immediately felt the compressed air from the basement, mixed with the smell of human sweat. Into this hole we entered one after the other. Through iron rods we went down into the basement. The shelf above our heads closed (this was ensured by the people on guard on behalf of the melina). The full box was placed on top and that concluded the entrance event. In the melina a complete darkness prevailed; we recognized each other only by the voices. Wherever you put your foot, you encountered the reactions of shouts and people's voices, since you were stepping on the bodies of people sitting and standing in terrible crowdedness, especially in the corner next to the door. (The basement had three small rooms; the only exit was the concealed opening).

Everyone in the melina was very upset. In fact, they have been sitting here since Saturday afternoon. This was the first time I've ever been in a melina, and together with a lot of upset people. My neighbor did not believe that such a melina, in which shouts were heard, would be able to last in the time of need, that is, in the time of aktziya. It was unthinkable that it would be possible to control the upset people in the melina, because in fact they all paid a lot of money to enter it. Everyone thought of themselves as a business partner and a landlord of the place, so who can control these people? My neighbor drew his conclusion and moved to a different melina. But for us, our confidence in God was great. We had to survive; we still had a goal left in life – to find our beloved daughter Yocheved.

Liza Abramovitz from Shnipishuk, my roommate, invited us to her corner. Our acquaintance Mr. Zalkind, his wife and daughter also sat here. We already had a place to stand by the wall, as well as a place to sit on top of a sharp stone or on the dirty floor. Now we were beginning to feel the cold in all our limbs, probably because of the terrible tension in the last days, we did not eat nor did we take any clothes, because we were not ready for all this. The backpacks with the necessary items were left in the room and we didn't have time to take them. Not far from us, we heard someone defecating and the neighbor next to him shouted at him: “This is not a stable! Go out. There are people here, not animals.” What could this poor man do? How can he overcome his vulgarity? Nature cannot be changed.

… The people were sitting on bundles, eating together with the children whatever was available. Everyone was upset, coughing and shouting continuously: “close the entrance once and for all! Don't let new people in!” The irritated voices were asking every moment: What is happening upstairs? Is there any news?

We were getting used to the situation. It seemed to us that we've been in the melina for years. From the questions and answers we understood that there was some kind of connection between the people inside the melina and the people outside, since every half an hour or so, we heard news being given to fake names, unknown to us. Apparently, it was some kind of special code for those in the know.

Someone came from above and delivered an announcement that our unit, the H.K.P., has received an order to leave the city of Vilna within half an hour. A thought crossed our mind: Is it possible? What can the people manage to get out in 30 minutes, and the people in the camp were already under the supervision of SS men. Our new rulers

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would know how to trick us. The only request to God was just - not to distort the verdict, what needs to happen – let it happen as soon as possible. The storm was approaching quickly, if only we will be able to hold on. They came again and asked for permission to bring ten more people into the melina, and if we refuse … we did not talk about it, it was understandable – they will be hand over to the authority. The wording was well known to us. Bringing in more people can cause a real disaster. In the melina, which was prepared for 15 people, were over fifty people in it, among them women and children, with agitated nerves, who cannot be silenced for a moment. There was also no one in charge or someone who can control them. Something happened to Rothstein, the one who should have been the leader in the melina, whose words may be heard. I think he lost the image of God. He became a great coward and feared death. All those whose lives were dear to them more than anything, lost their peace of mind. Their voice also changed. The judgment of these people in the melina was decisive. Their “way of the earth” was not honest; no one looked towards them.

The decision was made. The women won, standing firm in their opinion not to allow more people to enter the melina. Furthermore, the rumor that was heard through the melina, was that there is a matter of money involved…

The privileged called their wives and left the melina. Gutman also took his wife and children and left. Yes, the “big ones” were coming out. They knew that the melina will not last. But, what will happen to us?

I received an order to go to the entrance to the melina, stand there on guard, and maintain the camouflage of the entrance. Here I saw that several people had left the melina during daytime. All of the privileged ones, even my neighbors had left. I was overcome with a feeling of dread, and from the depths of my heart the supplication breaks out: “From the depths I called you, O Lord.”

Panic arose upstairs. All the people who managed to go out during the day, hurried back to the melina and asked to be allowed to enter quickly. Not allowing them was impossible because they knew where was its entrance. Leaving the entrance open for a long time was also impossible. It was impossible to know what happened above. There was only a need to hide them in a hurry, so that they will not be discovered and the melina will not be discovered. I threw them one by one down into the cellar and closed the lid. I felt tired from overexertion, and helplessly I returned to my place to rest.

Half asleep, I see myself again in the company of the Chofetz Chaim of blessed memory, and hear his speech about the Prophet Jonah. Yes, from the belly of the fish he called to God, and God heard his voice. Jonah's situation was very strange. He recognized his own sin, of running away from the city of Nineveh instead of urging its residents to repent for their sins. But his calculations misled him. But have we, in our current situation, seen God's visible miracles? Wherever you turn, you encounter apostasy, lawlessness, criminality and indignation which have not been seen or heard of for years. And who are you and what are you rights that will protect you?

A muffled voice rose from the under the ground, repeating over and over and asking about Astrowitz. The answer that was received on the spot, that was that he was absent, woke me up from my amazement and brought me and my wife to a conclusion that we were constantly afraid to speak about. In our opinion there was a second melina below where we were and that there was a close connection between the residents of this melina and the people of the other melina. We roughly located the place from where the voice came, and began to make our way there in the darkness. And here again we heard the same muffled voice asking about Rothstein. The immediate answer was that he will come soon and bring news. Apparently, there was someone who knew how to immediately answer on the spot any question that came from there. We approached the place that, in our opinion, was the place where the sound came from. Leiserowitz and his wife were sitting here. It turned out that under the floor there was another melina and this is where the opening should be. Again, we heard a man breathing heavily as if he lacked air to breathe. We heard him say that the people down there have no air to breathe or water to drink and they were fainting from the lack of air and water. We were already guarding the entrance to the melina. Leiserowitz was satisfied with this since he would not have to be the only one responsible for this entrance, and, secondly, he had [certain] doubts, which he shared with us, and now awaited our opinion, and whatever we decide, he would also do. His doubts were these: Should we enter the lower melina, where there is no air to breathe and no water to drink? We consulted with Zalkind. His answer was clear. In his opinion the Germans will blow up these houses if they lack the full number of workers intended to be transferred to Kovno, and, if so, why should we suffocate underground and find our death under the avalanche [of rubble]? It would be better to stay upstairs in the basement, and maybe there might be an opportunity at the last minute to escape from here and maybe the Nazis really only want to move us to Kovno and nothing more. My wife decided at that moment that we should enter the lower melina as soon as possible, and urged me to carry out her decision immediately. It was decided that Mrs. Leiserowitz, who knew the paths of the melina, would go first, followed by my wife, and then I and Mr. Leiserowitz would be the last. Mr. Zalkind promised to reposition the camouflage of the lid.

In one moment, we felt that we were in a different world. Suddenly all the familiar voices, noise, and commotion disappeared. Not a single sound was heard here.

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As if it were out of this world. The earth closed its mouth and swallowed you into it. You could only hear the rustle of the wet clothes in the water. Disagreement and nervousness were gone, only the cold rising from the water that penetrated the whole body, shaking and refreshing it.

One entered the melina while standing. And when you reached the ground below and could stretch out your body, you found yourself lying in a canal of stinking water, in mud, slime, and clay. Because of the low ceiling, one could not kneel. The ceiling pegs were also disturbing. There were also planks spread everywhere, which were placed in order to avoid getting wet from the water. But now they were only “stumbling blocks” floating in the water. The water came here from the laundry above, and perhaps it was also the intention of the owners of the melina for the water to be used as camouflage. And here, before we reached a place that would at least allow us to straighten our bodies, and perhaps also to get rid of the smelly water, we suddenly heard from the side a familiar voice. The voice was clear here. What happened? Zemigrod, who was among the builders of the melina, took his family and acquaintances down to an unknown melina that we were heading towards. They crossed the canal, where we were lying, and advanced to the right towards the melina. We followed them and climbed up through the same opening. The lid was closed from the top with bolts and iron rings. From the bottom up there was no easy way to open the lid.

We were in an abandoned warehouse for old scrap, mostly old double windows, but there were also planks on which we could sit and rest. Someone also took care to prepare packages of flat toasted bread. We rested on the boards. Zemigrod also had an electric flashlight, and now he noticed our presence. He said, “Are you here too?” and nothing else. He called Mania Balberiski and explained to her the need to dig in the corner and take out all of the dirt until they reached the outside air through the window. According to him, this window would come out from under the door of Block A. They both started digging. I helped them. It didn't take long before they got tired and left the place. I was left alone and I kept digging.

My hands were pierced and injured. I dug a hole a meter across the wall and reached fresh, wet soil. It seemed to me as if I was smelling fresh air, but it was only the smell of the soil. Neighbors who came to visit me claimed that they did not feel anything, and that they would not be able to last here long time. I came across a rotten board, and behind the board was a concrete wall. I must have reached the stairs from the outside of the house. I changed the direction of digging to the right side. The work was difficult. I was trying to dig with a stick to the right side forward. Maybe I could penetrate through the ground until I got out, and then we would get air to breathe. To my dismay, the stick ran into wet dirt and gravel, and could not move forward. Zemigrod shoved his head and claimed that he doesn't feel a change in the air. He tried to light a match, but the match did not light, probably due to a lack of air. I hear the sighs of those who seek and wait for the air from the outside to reach them. Fimka Mintz, a nimble guy who knows how to get by in any situation, dragged his tired legs, reached up to the hole next to me, and in a voice that sounded out of this world, begged and asked me: “Give me some air to breathe, I'm dying.” I shoved his head into the hole, but he didn't feel anything anymore, and remained lying on his back on the wave of fresh soil in a state of fainting. He started talking to himself as if, God forbid, he had lost his mind. I thought that death was approaching us slowly and surely. The rest of the melina people no longer reacted to anything. I sometimes heard their deep breathing, what a terrible breath, as if it was the last of their lives. I gathered the rest of my strength and continued with my work.

It was 4 o'clock in the morning, 3.7.1944, Monday. I continued digging with the stick and trying to get air from the outside, but all my efforts were in vain. Suddenly, my ears caught voices from outside. I heard shouts in the German language that were very familiar to me: Halt. I used my imagination to figure out the direction from which the voices were coming. And here I also heard footsteps on the stairs, of men, women and children. Apparently, the people were running from the stairs into the middle of the yard. A tremor gripped me. The end has come. The aktziya has begun. But why should the aktziya bother me when we were already here in a state of exhaustion with no air to breathe? I was not sure if those who were here were still able to stand on their feet. I continued digging with more vigor, the soil was stink, and, in the meantime, I felt the steps of the German who was probably guarding the opening above our heads, although the steps of the citizens had ceased a long time before. Who can guarantee me that the German did not hear the sound of the digging, and what shall we do if he would throw a bomb into the basement and then there would be no need to search for air… I hear the ZIS vehicle^[128] driving in the middle of the yard and goes down. Apparently, the car was full and they moved it closer to the gate of the yard and, in its place, they brought in another ZIS vehicle to receive other victims. But there was no time for thoughts and final considerations, I had to get out of there before it was too late. In addition, my wife came and said she was just as scared as I was, [and] that soon we would not have the strength to get out of there. I took my wife in one hand, and Pinka in the other. I carried him on my back. The people who were lying down did not even react. Apparently, they had lost their minds.

I felt that standing on my feet was becoming very difficult

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for me. The breathing stopped. Cold sweat covered my whole body. Some discomfort in the heart. I felt the lid with my hand and looked for how to open it. I finally lifted the lid and jumped out of the excavation while dragging Pinka and my wife after me. The cold air revived us, we breathed a sigh of relief. Now we were thinking about the second melina, which in the meantime we have learned that such a thing existed. We arrived wet at the end of the path in the excavation. The cold was terrible. We got a little used to the air, but we felt the suffocation here too, lack of air to breathe.

In the meantime, Leiserowitz and his wife, Mrs. Rabinowitz, and their 10-year-old son also arrived. Mrs. Rabinowitz was sick. She had a high fever, and shivered with cold and fever. Her son took care of her as a man among men. He wrapped her in woolen furs. Isrolik and his mother, one of the employees of the bathhouse, also arrived here. From where – I do not know. Apparently, many ways were unknown to me in this melina. I made a determined decision to open the lid, get some air, and hear what was going on up in the yard. I started to feel the melina lid to check closely the structure of the lid and to know how to open it. Again, we began to fear that soon we will never be able to leave here. The lid could not be opened. There was no point in returning to the melina above due to lack of air, the way to another melina was unknown to us. Remaining lying here in the mud, hearing the mice scurrying, and dying from lack of air and water - was also out of the question. I gathered the rest of my strength, and with my head and hands, I struggled above my capability, and with my injured head I slowly moved the lid from its place to the side. We waited anxiously to hear the familiar voices from above. But a strange silence prevailed here. Was it possible that there were no people in the melina above, and if so - where did they go? I shoved my head in the hole and climbed up. My eyes, which had gotten used to the darkness, began to notice some sliver of light emanating from one corner of the basement. When I was sure that there was no one in the basement, I started moving towards the light. Along the way there were objects scattered on the floor: A shoe, an empty water bottle, a torn piece of clothing. Apparently, the people came out terrified. Finally, I reached the light. The cover from the toilet was gone. The whole warehouse, the whole wooden structure was gone, there was just a big open hole. The bed that was used as a ladder was still standing. I climbed upstairs and lay down on the floor in the hallway behind the stairs. Next to the entrance leading to the room on the side of the gate, I saw many packages, full satchels, bags, backpacks, packages tied to each other, scattered in the yard. There were also large packages of pillows and blankets, the image was like one after a pogrom.

Suddenly, the shadow of a man approached me and I heard the footsteps of a soldier approaching the door. I returned immediately to the basement and hid behind the wall. I heard his footsteps approaching the corridor and his voice calling to the bottom of the basement with a shout: Kittel, Kamal hier! and repeated the reading. A voice from the basement answered in return: Hier! He probably came back because he didn't get an answer. I checked the basement again, maybe I'll find someone hiding. However, these evil people were clever and probably managed to get everyone out. I made a quick assessment of the situation. Since they had already found melina number one and had taken the people out, they would not return so soon to check it again; and, if so, it was now an excellent hiding place.

I was in the tunnel again, in a puddle, trying to cover the lid of the entrance of the melina. Every moment that passed lasted forever. When I opened the door from the second melina, we heard a kind of screaming and wailing. We were afraid of loud sounds. If they will notice them, we will also be lost. This thought gave me no rest. I was looking for an opportunity to meet with Zemigrod at any cost. These verses meant a lot to me: “Out of the depths have I called Thee, O LORD.” “I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing.” Leiserowitz said aloud the common verses by heart. The child of Rabinowitz repeated the verses. Ever since I felt the taste of the world's air, it is difficult for me to get used to such a state of lack of air. I had to hear what is happening upstairs. I made an effort and moved the lid a little. I heard the footsteps of men, women, and children running on the stairs. I heard shouts in Polish as well. I put the lid back in place and remained standing attentively to hear and understand what was being done upstairs.

According to the rumors that circulated among the workers, the Germans used to put Polish guests in special buildings when they left the cities of Poland, as if for security reasons, and when they left the city they would take the citizens with them, like hostages. In other cases, they would blow up the houses with the people inside. But what do children have to do in these houses? And maybe all the noise is because the blocks were now empty of Jews, and therefore they allowed the Polish neighbors and children to enter the houses and loot the Jewish apartments. About two hours passed. I moved the lid again and I heard the footsteps of individual soldiers, opening doors, entering the rooms on the lower floors, moving packages in the corners of the house, [and] carrying boxes from place to place. It seemed to me as if dynamite canisters were being put in place and, if that was the case, we must wait for the explosion. My imagination taught me that since the number of people transported in buses did not correspond to the number at the time of the appell, they must have come to the conclusion that a large part were hidden

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here, in the blocks, and, if so, the houses should be blown up on the people. I told this opinion to the people in the digging. They shared the same opinion, but they figured that it was better for the moment to sit back and not doing anything.

Zemigrod came to me. I asked him to explain to me the secret for disguising the lid from above. According to him, a second small lid was found inside the large lid. When the small lid is opened with a rope, air enters, and you can hear something from above. And, indeed, when I opened the small lid, I immediately felt the air coming in with a hiss, because at the same time the door of the second melina was also opened, and I also heard the footsteps of the soldiers on the tiles in the yard. Apparently, they were still handling the removal of the last buses from the camp. Zemigrod agreed with me and promised that the second melina will also be in contact with us. I closed the small lid and we went back to the previous melina to refresh and dry off the slush and mud.

With the opening of the hole in the lid we also received fresh air from the outside in the form of gusts of wind passing through with a sharp whistle. I heard familiar voices from outside. I heard the voice of the locksmith Pom: Vos ken men helfn… gegn a gzeyre min hashamayim ken men nisht milchome halten. [“What can a person do … against a decree from heaven a man cannot stop a war.”] I also heard single gunshots, but it seemed to me that they were very far away. And suddenly I heard that in the corridor above my head a door opened and steps of a woman and a man who were talking to each other in Polish. Tenenbortzel from Sosnowicz told his wife in Polish: “We are going.” His wife simply replied [in Yiddish]: Mir geyen. [“We are going.”] I was already prepared to jump under the stairs and show them the way to the basement. I noticed that they seemed to be standing on the stairs and reconsidering what to do. They were talking in a whisper, and suddenly a door opened from above, and I heard a soldier's footsteps, and voices and curses in German, about the damned Jews who didn't wait for him.

The few words I heard from above from my work partner and fate echoed in my mind. I could not get over them, and I could not accept them either. “One must not fight against a decree from heaven.” But it was also said that “even if a sharp sword is placed on your neck - do not despair of mercy.” But can only security, without action, help you? Effort is also necessary. How much strength, mind, and talent the members of the yeshiva invested in order to be saved, to find a way to life. And I remembered the words of Rabbi Yitzchak Kurnik when I departed from him about eight months earlier, when he was faced with the choice of being transferred to Latvia, or Estonia to the camps, and I was transferred to the H.K.P. camp in Vilna: “Remember that many of the survivors will have to tell and pass on to future generations many, many things that many will not be able to tell them. It is a sacred duty to stay alive just because of this, to use all means and not to miss any opportunity, because one should help those who come to purify themselves. And the very fact that Providence kept you alive should be important. Master of the Universe, “I hoped for with my soul and awaited His word -- And He will redeem [the People of] Israel”…^[129]

I don't know how much time passed during which I was half asleep, but when I revived my soul, I once again gathered the courage to open the little lid.

At the moment that we climbed upstairs, the residents of the melina pounced upon us from all sides. They jumped from their places to look at us as if they were insane. The first impression these people, with whom we had worked only two days previously, made on us was that over the course of the night they had become mindless. Their eyes popped out of their sockets. They did not speak, but rather shouted. I immediately felt the lack of air, especially when the door to the tunnel was closed. Each sat by his package with arms and legs apart and breathing with his mouth open. From time to time, they received bread and butter from the melina storehouse, that is from the cooperative's storehouse. They also arranged a light from a bus headlight. And yet I could not speak with them.

A famous timber merchant came to me and asked me if I had seen Stalin when he was walking in the streets of the city. The other yelled at him: “You're crazy, you're obsessed, Stalin in the city! You will see that nothing will help us, listen to my words, they'll take us all to Ponary.” Rabin the blacksmith poured out his anger before me. He could not forgive the owners of the melina for not letting him in right away. Even now he suspected that they have a hidden opening, and when the time comes that the privileged ones will leave and the rest, and he among them, will stay here. The signaler Katz was standing upstairs in a disguised and hidden room, looking out into the courtyard to verify that no soldiers were approaching the place, and when he did give a signal, everyone was informed that absolute silence must be maintained. And specifically, when such a message arrived, Yezersky began to cough with such a hoarse cough, and when we commented to him about it, he answered: “I can't do it otherwise,” and pointed with his fingers to his throat: “it's burning in here,” and with eyes full of blood and tears, he blurted out: “I can't do it otherwise.”

I was obliged to give a report to all these acquaintances of mine about how I got there, to their melina, and when I wanted to calm them and encourage them, that there was still a chance that we would get out of there, they mocked me. They had actually lost their minds. They were not thinking and feeling like normal human beings anymore. The only thing that guided them is their mission to keep an eye at all costs on the managers of the melina, so that they would not run away and that they would not be exploiting

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some other opening prepared for this purpose, as well as to fight and get a nicer portion of food.

We met together with Zemigrod and one of the elders of the melina and decided that one of the young men should come out of the melina with wire cutters saved just for this purpose and cut the wire fence (on the southern side of Makowa Street) in one place, and through that hole we must leave exactly at 12:00 at night. I was assigned the task of going up to the building and finding out if there still was a guard stationed next to the gate.

There were about forty people in the melina, [and] all of them would have to leave through the cooperative. The question that arose was who would be the first? In what order would the people go out, because everyone wanted to be among the first and getting everyone out at once would be impossible.

For the first time I went up the stairs to the second and third floors to check the yard. By the main gate the guard and SS men walked around and the city was in complete darkness. I could clearly hear muffled voices, probably the Katyushas thundering which were not so far away.

In Astrowitz's room I came across a jug full of water from the tap. I didn't allow myself to drink the water before I brought the precious gift to those sitting in the melina. The joy of drinking the clean water was not due to a fulfillment of desire or lust, but the symbol of transition from one state to another. Those who have not seen the joy of those people at the water jug cannot imagine such joy.

At 23:00, a messenger went out to cut the wired fences as discussed ahead. It didn't take long until we were informed of the exact place in the fence, where a loophole had been opened. Silence prevailed in the yard.

Our whole family was in the upper basement. We took off our shoes and we were waiting for midnight, at 24:00. This was the first time we all stood together barefoot and breathed the air from the basement of the house. Our luggage was not too heavy, torn shoes, wet and smelly clothes, dirty with feces, slops, and mud, but we had in our hearts a spark of hope that maybe we would get to see the downfall of the haters of Israel and take our revenge.

Again, the iron bed was used as a ladder for us to climb up from the melina basement. From the corridor we advanced in a line through Pancher's room. It was impossible to recognize the room, [since] everything was shattered and broken. There were shards of glass, broken dishes, and torn clothes on the floor. We passed through Leiserowitz's room. Ten steps separated us from my room but I had already decided not to enter the room. Every moment was important during these hours, and we had to stick to our plan on which our lives may depend. We went down on the other side by the stairs at entrance A and entered the ambulatory room, to the pharmacy. The dentists' chairs were still there, parts were already missing, it was a scene of utter desolation, the windows were open. We agreed that I would go first while carefully looking to the sides, my wife would walk at a distance of five steps behind me, followed by Mr. Leiserowitz and his wife. In the yard, on both sides, no one can be seen. I moved along the wall of the house, on the boards leading to block A, to the end of the building, and moved in a straight direction towards the fence. I was looking for the loophole, using the information that had been given to me. We went through one loophole of the wire fence. We entered between the two wired fences, and moved forward in a southeast direction. We found the second loophole, passed through it, and we were outside of the camp!

The summer night air was cool and fragrant. We were moving towards a vegetable field. Leiserowitz and I entered the yard. The women went to look for a place among the Gentiles, maybe someone will take pity on us and let us enter the house at least to wash the dirt off. We were only a few meters from the camp yard. We had to get out of there before daylight. We entered inside a field, between garden beds. On the other side of the field was another street. We heard the footsteps of soldiers, probably on night patrol. We also heard voices in Polish, apparently from civilians who were also outside, but what could they be doing at such a late hour? It turned out that there was a bomb and the citizens had hidden in shelters and now were returning to their homes. We moved towards the house; the house was locked. There was no one inside, we stayed in the yard, and sat down. We considered what we should do. Should we go out into the street? Should we go to the town? Where should we go? The suburb of the city on this side (Rawele^[130]) was completely unfamiliar to me. The German guards were walking around the streets. Who knew how long this situation would last. In the meantime, we heard voices in Yiddish of a girl looking for her mother and brother. I suspected that she had lost her mind, because it was impossible to raise such shouts right next to the camp, when the soldiers were walking around everywhere. We saw shadows of people coming out from behind the wire fences, moving forward between the fences of the fields and disappearing in the darkness. A German, apparently from the night patrol, caught two women who had already managed to get through the barbed wire fences. We felt that a negotiation was taking place – the German received a decent payment and released them. They advanced towards Makowa Street and disappeared into the darkness of the night.

We noticed a shadow of a young man and heard Halt! in German. The call was followed by a single shot and afterwards another shot and then there was silence. One of the underground people went to check the road, and when he received the command Halt! He shot at the German, missed his target, and then fell dead

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from a German's bullet. There was no room for thoughts here. There was a need to find another place, but how could we get out to the street with such dirt. Who would want to receive us in such a condition? But on the other hand, the ground was burning under our feet.

At 3 o'clock in the morning, the owners of the house arrived. The women managed to talk with them and promised them a good payment in return for water for washing. Large bathing bowls with fresh and cold well water were placed in the middle of the corridor. We scraped off all of the dirt. It seemed to me that together with the dirt we buried the troubles in these murky waters. Our clothes remained as they were, but our mood changed completely. Breathing in the fresh air and feeling the cleanliness of our bodies encouraged our spirits. The first information we received from the Gentiles froze the blood in our veins. They said that on Monday they took out several buses full of men and women and drove them in the well-known direction – to Ponary. The next day, Tuesday morning, SS and Gestapo men came again and moved from room to room. They broke and destroyed walls and searched in all of the holes and cracks in the roofs and in the basements. Those who were taken out of the melinas were promised to be kept alive and afterwards to be taken them to Kovno. But at the end, they ordered them to run towards the new toilet building, to the large pit on the west side of Block A, where they had taken out material for the bricks. On all sides soldiers stood with machine guns in their hands and they shot the runners. The neighboring Gentiles, who were standing by, enjoyed what they saw with their own eyes. They were asked to cover the pit with soil and in return they would allow them to take the clothes off of the dead.

The Gentile women said that their boys worked very hard in their efforts to cover the big pit because the blood did not stop streaming out and every moment it would break out like a spring from another place. These poor guys worked hard to bring new sand and soil to cover the dead and stop the blood from springing out. The neighboring Gentiles also told us about one of the bus passengers who jumped off the bus on Trokar Street,^[131] on the way to Ponary, and was shot on the spot. Some of the melinas remained hidden. It happened that a room, whose door was camouflaged, remained intact with its residents and no one noticed it. Another case was that of a melina with about 40 people, the Metzkin melina. When an SS officer noticed the melina, Matzkin came out and gave him a lot of money and gold. The officer assured him that he would not do any harm to this melina. He left the room and immediately sent another SS officer. Of course, they took everyone out and led them to the pit. Matzkin's mother-in-law, a heroic woman, was shot in her leg on the stairs and remained on the stairs until the end the aktziya.

Baruch the tinsmith would always say: “The Nazis will not be privileged to see me step into the pit.” When the SS officer came and said to him Heraus, Jude and began to urge him to go quickly, he looked at him and didn't even think of moving. The German took the rifle to beat the Jude, as usual. Old Reb Baruch stood up to his full height, and in the blink of an eye snatched the rifle from the German's hand, and with a strong and powerful blow, brought the butt of the rifle down on the SS man's head. The rifle broke on his skull. Reb Baruch was not the only one who refused to march to the place of extermination.

A few were shot in different places in the camp yard. The policeman Shakstolsky, feeling that he was making his last journey, took out his famous knife and with it stabbed the SS man who was leading him towards the pit. Dozens of men defended themselves with weapons in hand against the executioners, and a few managed to escape from the pit in the middle of the day, despite the incessant shooting. The hill of fresh soil that we came across in the past night was the grave of the great many dead from Tuesday, when one hundred and six people from the H.K.P. labor camp were shot in the field. Nevertheless, we asked the Gentiles to allow us to hide in their homes. The only place they allowed us to stay in was under the canopy in the garden, a place where vegetables and cucumbers were kept in the summer. The four of us sat on the board half asleep. It was very cold at night. Security did not return to us, we sat and thought about our workmates, about their fate, and about our fate.

With sunrise, the neighborhood residents started to pass by us. It didn't take long before the whole neighborhood knew about our presence. We found out that there were SS men walking around nearby and looking for those who had run away from the camp. We left the place and moved to the other side of the alley. Not far in front of us, we noticed a guard walking and surveilling the area. We hid under the fence in the field, entered a field of potatoes, and hid among the leaves.

At 10 o'clock, my wife's summer coat, which she managed to wash last night, was dry. Therefore, she went to the city (with no signs of a patch), to look for a place until the situation would calm down. The road she had to go through until she reached the Gentile she knew was very long. She had to go through dangerous places, Zaritza [Polish: Zarzecze (“across the river”), today, Užupis] and the Green Bridge. From 13:00, I became more and more anxious, and I didn't know what to think. The place she had to reach (Shnipishuk) was new to her. She did not know the people, the Gentiles, nor the environment.

At 15:00, my wife returned with an invitation from the Gentile to come and stay with him. Our separation from the Leiserowitz family was difficult. Together we had made our way through these last fateful hours in the camp and in the melina. The parting from these homes was more difficult. This is where we lost our sweet daughter,

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whose memory is always in our minds. We were united in complete faith that she was still alive, and thanks to faith and confidence we have come this far.

We stood in the shelter that the Gentiles had prepared. We looked in silence at these large houses, which Baron Hirsch built for the poor of [the People of] Israel in Vilna, and today how much suffering and torture lie under every corner, every wall, and every stone, how many hopes and sighs were lost here.

With one small book of Psalms in one pocket and the tefillin in the second pocket, we ran away from the camp where we had spent nine months, without knowing where we were headed. But we had hope in our hearts and confidence that the God of Israel would not remove his grace from us.

Wednesday, at 16:30, I left the shelter [and]went down through the courtyards to the main street. I didn't have time to orient myself as to what was going on around me, and right in front of me a unit of German guards (ten soldiers) with machine guns was approaching, walking across the street. Going back was out of the question since they would soon notice me. With confident steps and raised eyes, I walked on the sidewalk in front of them and met them face to face. The first attempt was successful, but it seemed to me that my heart stopped beating. I entered Subotch Street. When I crossed the street from the other side, I saw the gate of the camp yard, where another first-rate German guard was standing. I barely managed to reach a side path. I passed through a garden to Poplawes Street,^[132] straight to the Zaritza Bridge, through Benediktinska Street,^[133] Krolewska. By their house of worship, which is next to the municipal garden, I was afraid that the Gentiles would recognize me. In the municipal garden I saw a huge military force. The trees were half stumped, as they made from them a shelter for the cannons that stood camouflaged and dug into the soil. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of ammunition boxes stood ready with all the equipment.

I was afraid to look back to look for my wife. We agreed ahead that she would follow me at a distance of twenty steps and when I was on Mostowa Street.^[134] I noticed that she was gone. I slowed my steps and lingered. I was approaching the Green Bridge. There was a risk that they would ask for a certificate while we walk on the strategic bridge. On the street I noticed that the bridge was mined. Threads were pulled from all sides. Buses stood on the bridge and soldiers were throwing packages with papers into the river. I approached the bridge. There were soldiers and guards standing at distances of only five steps between them. A rope partition marked the path for walking. I saw my wife from a long distance, but there was no choice. I could not delay any longer. I heard a few gunshots in the area. No one paid attention to them. As I crossed the bridge, I noticed in front of me, from Kalworisky Street, three military men in high-ranking gendarmerie uniforms who were walking on the pavement in the middle of the street and were getting closer and closer to me. Behind them were officers who were riding horses. They stopped by the bridge and talked to the guard. The guard started asking the men passing the bridge for their identification papers. It seemed to me that all of the efforts were going to go down the drain. I turned at a sharp angle, to the left, and I deviated from the main road, wandered a little round and round, went down, passed by a guard of a military barracks, and walked straight through the yard of the sawmill that is now a field. I arrived safely at the house of Yashik, the keeper of the sawmill of Alperovitz (formerly that of Sheiniuk) that was burned down when the city was occupied.

The yard was full of tall weeds, and the factory was broken and destroyed. The tall chimney standing in the middle looked like a tombstone for the vibrant life that once was here. At Yashik's house, the keeper of the yard was waiting for me with a nice welcome. They were simple and good Gentiles, Righteous Gentiles. The twenty moments that passed until my wife arrived at the sawmill seemed to me like an eternity. It turned out that a minute after she managed to cross the bridge, the officers who had arrived on the scene stopped people from walking on the bridge.

Yashik's house stood on the bank of the River Wilja,^[135] not far away from the Green Bridge. His daughter and son-in-law were in the service of the White Partisans.^[136] Every time we would hear a sharp whistle from the other side of the river, they would immediately take the boat that was hidden on the beach behind the house, cross it to the other side of the river, towards Lukishok [Lukishiki], and from there they would lead the members of the underground who were preparing for the front, at the last minute. Equipment and other supplies would also be transported from the city here. The neighbors were told that we were refugees from some remote village that had been destroyed by the Germans. Nevertheless, we asked for a hiding place under the roof and brought grass and vegetation there. When the Soviet Katyushas thundered at night and the city was bombarded from all over, and every living soul in the city went to the shelters - we laid on the fresh vegetation on the roof of the house, and laughed at the panic of the Gentiles. And when they asked us to go with them to hide in the shelter, we answered them that we would stay where we were because each bullet hits according to a precise and marked address.

The members of the underground also hid in their tunnel, which extended from the camp to a garden behind the wired fences. On the other side, a member of the underground stood in a camouflaged place and waited for an opportunity to open the opening and get them out of there. The Gestapo agents knew about that melina. Dreizin, the Gestapo agent, with his hand in a plaster cast, approached the tunnel accompanied by Gestapo men and asked them to leave of their own free will to go to Kovno. When his demands were not met, he threw a stink bomb into the tunnel. The Germans managed to take out of the tunnel only the first five people who were sitting near the entrance, and killed them on the spot. The rest suffocated from the lack of air and the stench. There were about thirty-five people inside, all underground people, them and their families.

[Page 193]

Some were killed with their weapons in their hands. They were not buried in a Jewish burial.

The brigadier of the carpentry group, Feldman, one of the best guys in the camp, a man who took care of his men, prepared a large melina under the roof of the carpentry works which was large enough to accommodate almost all of them. He walked all the time with a loaded gun in his pocket. At the last moment, when he decided to go out through the window in the sawmill and saw the SS men in the courtyard, he did not hesitate for a moment and fired at them with his loaded gun. They shot him while he was still hanging on the sawmill window. May he be of blessed memory!

That Tuesday night, after midnight, several dozen people left the camp's melinas, and dispersed in every direction. Keidan the electrician talked to a group of ten people and they came to his abandoned shop on the Jews' Street (Yiddishe Gas)^[137] and they stayed there the whole fourth day. When they were thirsty, Kidan took a bucket and went out to the other yard to get water. The doorman noticed that and informed the Gestapo about it. They arrived immediately in a bus, took out seven Jews and a little girl, put them on the bus and took them to the city. On Wilner Street,^[138] on an empty lot, they forced the men to dig a long pit - a grave for themselves. Kidan managed to run away, was shot, and was killed on the spot. Feinberg's wife was also killed on the spot. Three-year-old Hilda Feinberg stood and picked flowers, and let her dead mother smell them. The poor girl did not know that this was her last game. About thirty Jews were captured in all corners of the city and brought to this place. There they sat on their knees, were shot in the back, and thrown into the large mass grave. Among the dead: The elder Mr. Feinberg, his wife, and daughter, the police officer Zemski and his wife, and Baruch and Betty Golomb. Only a high barbed wire indicates the grave that is below. They saw the victory, they reached it, but they did not live to enjoy revenge on the enemy.

From one thousand and two hundred people who were on the H.K.P. camp, the Germans led on the “road to Kovno” – [in fact only to] Ponary – about six hundred people. About one hundred and seventy people were shot and killed the next day in the courtyard. Of the four hundred and thirty people who left the camp and fled to the city and to the forest, about two hundred and fifty people were killed in different places by the Gentiles, and only about one hundred and eighty people remained alive.

Editor's Footnotes:

1. The translator and editor express their profound gratitude to Dr. Lara Lempertienė, the director of the Judaica Research Center of the Lithuanian National Library in Vilnius, Lithuania, for reviewing and suggesting edits to the translation. Return
2. In August 1939, Nazi Germany and Soviet Russia agreed to divide the territory of Eastern Europe between those two states. In accordance with this agreement, in September 1939 they conquered and extinguished the Republic of Poland, divided its territory approximately in half, and took control of their respective shares. Under the Nazi-Soviet alliance, each state was assured that it could take control of other countries in its respective “sphere of influence” in Eastern Europe without interference from the other state. Lithuania had long sought the Vilna area, which Poland had held during the inter-war period. In October 1939, Stalin transferred the Vilna area to Lithuania, but in June 1940, the Soviet Union took control of all of Lithuania, including the Vilna area. The Nazi-Soviet partnership continued until the first light of June 22, 1941, when Nazi Germany suddenly invaded the territory controlled by the Soviet Union. Rabbi Farber's account begins on that day in Vilna. Return
3. A minyan is a quorum of ten men over the age of 13 required for traditional Jewish public worship. Return
4. A kloiz is small, secondary place of Jewish prayer. Return
5. Presumably, this is a reference to the broad river that flows through Vilna, which is known in Lithuanian as the Neris, and in Yiddish and other languages as the Vilija. Return
6. On June 14, 1941, the Soviet secret police arrested approximately 17,500 residents of Lithuania. Of this number, about 1,700 were Jews. This occurred one week before Nazi Germany invaded Lithuania. Return
7. Even though the Soviet Union formally annexed Lithuania in early August 1940, it continued to control passage through Lithuania's pre-annexation borders. Return
8. The street's name was later changed from Portowa to J. Jasinskio gatvė. Return
9. The street's name was later changed to K. Kalinausko gatvė. Return
10. The street's name was later changed to Klaipėdos gatvė. Return
11. The street's name was later changed to J. Basanavičiaus gatvė. Return
12. This building may have been one of the urban palaces that magnates built in the city over the centuries. Return
13. The Talmudic scholar, book collector, and philanthropist Rabbi Matisyahu [modern Hebrew: Matityahu] Strashun (1817-1885) inherited from his father, Rabbi Samuel Strashun (1793-1872) a considerable library, to which he added his own collection. Matisyahu Strashun in turn bequeathed the library to the Vilna Jewish Community. A catalogue from the late 19^th Century listed about 5,700 works, but the actual number of books, manuscripts, and periodicals was much larger. In 1901 the library was moved to a specially erected, two-story building in the courtyard of the Great Vilna Synagogue. The library continued to receive books and other literary works. By 1940, its holdings were estimated to total 50,000 books, including about 300 books from the 16th Century. Yitzchak Strashun, the library director, was a relative of the founder, Matisyahu Strashun. Return
14. The name of the hill was later changed to Tauro kalnas. Return
15. The street's name was later changed to A. Kojelavičiaus gatvė. Return
16. The term aktziya refers to a specific operation. In the context of the Holocaust ghettos, an aktziya usually involved the roundup of captives for removal and execution. Return
17. In 1837, the czarist authorities converted a Roman Catholic monastery in the Łukiszki [Lithuanian: Lukiškės] section of the city into a prison and it was used as such until the 21^st Century. Return
18. The Komsomol was a Soviet organization for young people aged 14 to 28. Its mission was to indoctrinate its members with Communist teachings and prepare them for future membership in the Communist Party. It was disbanded in 1991 with the collapse of the Soviet Union. Return
19. Śnipiszki [Lithuanian: Šnipiškės] was a village on the right bank of the Wilja / Vilija / Neris River, facing the historic center of Vilna / Wilno / Vilnius. Return
20. After the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany extinguished the Republic of Poland in September 1939, they annexed, respectively, the eastern and western halves of Poland. Both regimes were hostile to yeshivas and the yeshivas that were in the territory of Poland recognized the urgent need to relocate. Although Vilna had been in inter-war Poland, it came under Soviet control in mid-September 1939, and in October 1939 Stalin transferred the Vilna region to the still-independent Republic of Lithuania. Vilna and Lithuania became a safe haven for many yeshivas, albeit for a relatively brief period. The Lutsk Yeshiva was one of several that relocated to Vilna. The Golden Age of the Lithuanian Yeshivas, by Ben-Tsiyon Klibansky (English Edition, Indiana University Press, Bloomington, 2022), pp. 85 and 277. Return
21. The German word “rat” means “advice.” In the context of the ghettos in Lithuania into which Jews were herded, a Judenrat was an advisory council of Jewish captives chosen by the captors to ensure that their orders and regulations were implemented. Return
22. The street's name was later changed to Žemaitijos gatvė. Return
23. This was a weekly Agudath Israel publication that was issued from 1924 to 1938 by the Vilna Yeshiva Council, which was headed by the legendary Rabbi Chaim Ozer Grodzenski. Return
24. Admo”r is an acronym for the Hebrew term adoneinu, moreinu, ve'rabbeinu (“our master, teacher, and rabbi”). This honorific is given to a great leader of a Chassidic dynasty. Return
25. The Ponary / Ponariai railway station is just west of Vilna / Vilnius. During the period July 1941 and August 1944 an estimated 70,000 Jews, 2,000 Poles, and 8,000 Soviet prisoners of war were murdered in excavated fuel-storage pits near the station. Return
26. This is the series of roads going west from the Vilna city center along the Pohulanka to Vilkpėdė and on to Ponariai. Return
27. In Polish, Czyżuny; in Lithuanian, Čižiūnai. Return
28. The street name was later changed to Raugyklos gatvė. Return
29. This market place, known in Lithuanian Halės turgus, is on the southern edge of Vilna's Old Town. Return
30. Lithuanian: Naugarduko gatvė. Return
31. The street's name was later changed to Ligoninės (hospital) gatvė. Return
32. This is the Polish and Russian (Завальная) name of this street, which means “rampart.” Presumably, it tracks the location of a rampart wall that served as part of the city's outer defenses. When the Germans occupied the city, they aptly called the street Wallstrasse. The modern street name, Pylimo gatvė, is the Lithuanian equivalent of the term. Return
33. The Lithuanian words Pirmyn, greičiau literally mean “Forward, quickly.” Return
34. A tallit is a prayer shawl worn by Jewish men. Tefillin, which are also known as phylacteries, is a set of two black-leather boxes with attached strips of leather that are worn by Jewish men during weekday morning services. Each box contains a parchment inscribed with verses from the Toran. One box is worn on the forehead and other box is worn on the arm with its strip of leather wrapped around the man's arm and hand. Return
35. This farming village was established in the 19^th Century by 17 Jewish families from Olkeniki / Valkininkai. It is situated on arable land about four kilometers northwest of Olkeniki. In Polish, the name of the village is Deksznia. In Lithuanian, the name is Degsnės. Return
36. The street's name was later changed to Šv. Ignoto gatvė. Return
37. The airport serving Vilna / Wilno / Vilnius opened in 1932 near the village known in Polish as Purobanek (meaning an area that has been clear-cut). After the region was transferred to Lithuanian, the village was renamed Kirtimai (which has the same meaning). Return
38. Lithuanian: Vivulskio gatvė. Return
39. From the German word Beuten-lager, meaning a warehouse for storing captured weapons. Return
40. This is a rephrasing of Genesis 37:16, where the Patriarch Joseph explains that he searching for his brothers. Return
41. In 1941, the Hebrew month of Elul spanned from August 24 to September 21. Return
42. Lithuanian: Lvovo (and Lvivo) gatvė. Return
43. This area, which is known in Lithuanian as Burbiškės and in Polish as Burbiszki, is southwest of Vilna's city center and today is part of the city municipality. Return
44. This village, which is known in Lithuanian as Šeškinė and in Polish as Szeszkinie, was north of Vilna's city center. Today, it is part of the city municipality. Return
45. This village, which is known in Lithuanian as Saltoniskės and in Polish as Sołtaniszki, is south of the Shashkini hills and just north of Vilna's city center. Today, it is part of the city municipality. Return
46. To the immediate east of Šeškinė and Saltoniskės is the Šeškinės ozas. Ozas is the Lithuanian word for a moraine, an accumulation of unstratified earth and stones that were carried and finally deposited by a glacier. From the perspective of the nearby villages, it has the appearance of a mountain. Return
47. In 1941, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, ended at sunset on October 10. The final Yom Kippur prayer service, Ne'ilah, concludes just before sunset. Return
48. Lithuanian: Šv. Stepono gatvė. Return
49. The Wilenka / Vilnia / Vilnelė River rises in Belarus and flows westward to its confluence with the Wilja / Vilija / Neris River, which is where the city of Vilna / Wilno / Vilnius was founded. The city's name is taken from the name of the Vilnia river. Return
50. Lithuanian: Antakalnio gatvė. Return
51. The Polish word odwach refers to a room for soldiers who are on guard duty at the gatehouse of a fortified location. Return
52. The term Junker refers to a German military officer who is also a member of the nobility. Return
53. Lithuanian: Vingrių gatvė. Return
54. Gefreiter is the German word for a second-level enlisted soldier, approximately analogous to a private first class. Return
55. The Polish word rogatek generally means a small building near the edge of a city where police might be located and entry fees collected. In the sense it also would be analogous to a toll booth. Return
56. A yellow, numbered certificate (gelb schein) was issued to each Jewish worker who was authorized to work in locations designated by the Germans. A holder of this certificate, his wife, and two of his children were granted immunity from the periodic round-ups and removals of the ghetto captives. Those who were removed were typically murdered soon after at Ponary. Between October 24 and December 22, 1941, at least 5,000 residents who did not have such immunity were taken away and killed. Return
57. This is the Yiddish name for the town of Shchuchyn (Polish: Szczyczyn; Belarusian: Шчучын;), which is about 150 kilometers south of Vilna. During the inter-war period it was in Poland (as was Vilna). Today, it is in Belarus. Return
58. Today, Mėsinių gatvė. Return
59. From the German word Verpflegungslager, meaning a food camp. Return
60. In 1942, the month of Shevat began on January 19 and ended on February 15. Return
61. The street's name was later changed to Karmelitų gatvė. Return
62. Lithuanian: Rūdninkų gatvė. Return
63. Pesach is the Hebrew name for the Jewish holiday of Passover. Return
64. The street's name was later changed to Gedimino prospektas. Return
65. Lithuanian: Kalvarijų gatvė. Return
66. This location, which is north of the Vilna city center, was the site of military camps in the 19^th and 20^th Centuries. From 1920 to 1939, the Polish army called the camp Plac broni and maintained a “park” for armored vehicles (broń pancerna) and barracks. The Soviets took control of the camp in 1940, only to be replaced by the Germans the next year. The Germans organized workshops there which were called Panzer Kaserne. The Jews referred to the camp as Pancherka. After the Second World War, the camp was a closed military zone where the Soviets kept armored vehicles. The zone was known in Lithuanian as the Šiaurės miestelis (the North Town). Return
67. Return
68. The street's name was later changed to Liepkalnio gatvė. Return
69. This is a common expression used when a Jew appeals to Heaven. Return
70. Rosh Hashanah, which literally means “head of the year,” is the name of the holiday which begins the new year on the Jewish calendar. Return
71. The term mashgi'ach ruchani, which means a spiritual advisor, was a rabbi who was responsible for all non-academic aspects of Lithuanian-style yeshiva, including fundraising, recruiting new staff and students, and generally caring for the lives of yeshiva students. Thus, this official had the duties of an academic dean and counselor. Rabbi Avraham-Zvi Listovsky was the mashgi'ach ruchani of the Slonim yeshiva, which relocated to Vilna in November 1939. Return
72. Mussar is a curriculum, based upon Judaic ethical values, which emphasizes continuing self-improvement, discipline, and moral conduct. Return
73. There are a series of four services recited on the day of Yom Kippur. Musaf, Minchah, and Ne'ilah are the last three. Return
74. The Jewish High Holidays begin on with the first day of the New Year (Rosh Hashanah), which is the first day of the Hebrew month of Tishrei, and conclude with the Day of Atonement (Yom Kippur) on the tenth day of Tishrei. This ten-day period is sometimes referred to as the Days of Repentance. Four days after Yom Kippur, on the fourteenth of Tishrei, there is a full moon, which marks the beginning of the Jewish pilgrimage holiday of Tabernacles (Sukkot). Return
75. Jacob Gens (1903 -1943) had fought for Lithuanian independence and rose to the rank of captain in the Lithuanian army. He also had a college degree in law and economics. In September 1941 the Germans appointed him to serve as the chief of the Jewish “police” in the larger part of the ghetto. In July 1942 he became the overall director of the ghetto, with the Judenrat being subordinate to him. He was murdered by the Germans in September 1943, just before the Vilna Ghetto was eliminated. Return
76. From 1916 until 1940, this building (today, Pylimo gatvė No. 4) was the home of the Tarbut gymnasium (advanced high school). The language of instruction was Hebrew. In the summer of 1940, the Soviets closed the school and confiscated the building. On September 1, 1940, a Jewish secondary school with Yiddish as the language of instruction was opened in the building. Return
77. As in Vilna, when the Germans overran these towns the Jewish residents were confined to ghettos. When these ghettos were liquidated, the survivors were brought to the Vilna Ghetto. Return
78. This town, which is about 60 kilometers east of Vilna, was in Poland during the inter-war period and was known as Michaliszki. Today, it is in Belarus and is known as Міхалішкі. Return
79. [Footnote added by the translator:] The Hebrew term Atzeret [עֲצֶרֶת], which is often associated with the last day of the Jewish holiday of Sukkot [English: Tabernacles] is actually used most often in the Talmud to refer to the holiday of Shavuot [English: Pentecost], which comes seven weeks after the holiday of Pesach [English: Passover.] Presumably, the author's use of the term Atzeret was intended to mean Shavuot, which begins 50 days after the beginning of Pesach. In 1943, the eight-day Pesach holiday began at sunset on April 19 and ended at sunset on April 27. The Shavuot holiday began at sunset on June 8. Thus, the author appears to be referring to the period between April 27 and June 8, 1943. Return
80. Bruno Kittel (born 1922, disappeared 1945) was a sadistic Austrian SS officer who supervised the massacre of Jews in the Vilna Region and elimination of the Vilna Ghetto on September 23-24, 1943. Return
81. Lithuanian: Bezdonys. Return
82. H.K.P. are the initials for Heereskraftfahrpark [Army Motor Vehicle Repair Park] No. 562. In August 1943, about five weeks before the elimination of the Vilna Ghetto (on September 23-24, 1943), Wehrmacht Major Karl Plagge (1897-1957), who was in charge of the operations for repairing military vehicles in the Vilna area, established several vehicle-repair camps that used skilled slave-laborers from the ghetto. Several hundred skilled workers were moved to H.K.P. 562, which was based in and around two large, six-story buildings on Subotch / Subocz Street (today, 47 and 49 Subačiaus gatvė). (These buildings had been constructed for the benefit of Jews with funds donated by Baron Maurice de Hirsch (1831-1896.) In addition, repair camps specifically for adapting vehicle engines to run on solid fuel were set up at the Pancherka military camp near Werkowska Street (today, Verkių gatvė) and at the autobus park on the former Legionowa Street (today, Savanorių gatvė). Additional group of workshops were located near a technical college on Holanderska Street (today, Olandų gatvė). Plagge chose the Jews who would work at these camps and allowed their families to join them. As a result, these Jews were not in the Vilna Ghetto when it was eliminated and more than 1,250 Jews were protected until July 1944, when the Nazis planned to murder all remaining Jews in Vilna. Plagge was able to warn them in advance and about 250 successfully hid in melinas until the arrival of the Russian army. In 2004 Yad Vashem, the Israeli Holocaust center, recognized Major Plagge as a Righteous Among the Nations. More details about Major Plagge's humane actions were reported in Dr. Michael Good's book The Search for Major Plagge: The Nazi Who Saved Jews (Fordham University Press, 2005) and in the documentary film The Good Nazi (2018). Return
83. Felix (“Salek”) Dessler (d. 1943) was the deputy chief of the Vilna Ghetto's Jewish Police under Jacob Gens. Return
84. Rudolf Neugebauer (1912-1945) was the head of the German State Police (Gestapo) in Vilna. He held the rank of oberstürmfuhrer, equivalent to a first lieutenant. Return
85. Lithuanian: Ašmenos gatvė. Return
86. A Katyusha is a mobile rocket-launching system that was deployed by the Soviet Union in World War II. They were usually mounted on ordinary trucks. Return
87. Later, this street was renamed M. Antokolskio gatvė. Return
88. Vilna's Rossa neighborhood is directly south of Subotch Street. Return
89. In 1891, a successful German-Austrian Jew, Baron Maurice de Hirsch (1831-1896), established the Jewish Colonization Association (“JCA”) to assist impoverished Jews in Europe and Asia. In 1898 the JCA set aside funds to build low-cost housing for poor Jews of Vilna. In 1900, two buildings were constructed with 216 apartments. Return
90. This appears to be a reference to the Rossa [Lithuanian: Rasos] neighborhood in which the Baron de Hirsch buildings were constructed. Return
91. In the early 19^th Century, a philanthropist remembered as Reb Maile left a bequest of a building and a small courtyard for the establishment of a yeshiva. Although the official name of the yeshiva was Tomchai Torah, the yeshiva was commonly known as the Ramailes Yeshiva. Several distinguished yeshiva deans, including Rabbi Israel Salanter, served there. The yeshiva was not one of the “major” yeshivas, such as those in Telz, Mir, and Slabodka, but it was renowned for identifying outstanding young prospects for the more prestigious yeshivas. Return
92. The Hebrew word mezuzah (מְזוּזָה) refers to piece of parchment inscribed with specific Hebrew verses from the Torah and posted on doorposts of homes. The verses are the Biblical passages which command the use of a mezuzah, Deuteronomy 6:4-9 and 11:13-21. Return
93. Although the author states that he saw this sign in September 1943, the German press was already using this term two years earlier. A news bulletin released by the Jewish Telegraphic Agency on October 12, 1941, and titled “Nazis Complete Segregation of Jews in Vilna,” stated “Jews in Vilna are now completely segregated from the rest of the population in a ghetto into which all Jewish businesses have also been transferred, according to the Rheinisch Westfalische Zeitung reaching here today. Ulica Niemiecka [German Street / Vokiečių gatvė], a well known business street which formerly housed most of the Jewish establishments in the city, has been made completely “Judenrein,” the paper reports, adding that “it is intolerable that Jews live on a street called ‘German Street.’” Return
94. The (Mourner's) Kaddish is a prayer that is recited by those whose family members have died in the past year. They also recite it on the anniversary of the family member's death. Return
95. During the reading of the weekly portion of the Torah, the reading is divided into parts, and for each part a member of the congregation is “called up” to the bima to have the honor of standing next to the reader as the next part is read. The Hebrew term aliyah means to “go up.” Return
96. A machzor is a book which has all of the prayers and readings for specific Jewish holidays, such as Rosh Hashanah. Return
97. In 1931, the Polish company “Arbon” (named for the city in Switzerland where the “Saurer” model of vehicles were manufactured) won a 10-year, exclusive franchise to provide bus, trolleybus, and tram services in Vilna. The city allocated a 10,000-square-meter lot of land for the construction of a bus garage and administration buildings on ulica Legionowa (the current Savanorių (Volunteers') prospektas). In November 1939, a few weeks after Stalin transferred the Vilna region to Lithuania, the street was named Savanorių alėja. Although the Soviets renamed the street again during their first occupation of Lithuania (1940-1941), the name honoring Lithuanian volunteers was restored when the Nazis drove the Soviets out in June 1941. For this reason, the author refers to the bus garage forced-labor camp as “Savanoria.” Return
98. The Hebrew term Yom Tov is applied to each major Jewish religious holiday. Return
99. Arvit is another Hebrew word for Ma'ariv, the evening service of Jewish prayers. Return
100. Yom Kippur begins at sunset on the 9^th day of the Hebrew month of Tishrei and ends at sunset on the 10^th day of Tishrei. During that period of time, adult Jews who are in good health do not consume food or drink. Return
101. The term piku'ach nefesh means “saving a life”. Under Jewish law, the need to take an action to save a life overrides nearly all other religious obligations. In this circumstance, there was no threat to life that necessitated his violating the prohibition against writing on the Sabbath. Return
102. Footnote added by the editor:] A Torah is hand-written by a trained ritual scribe on prepared sheets made from a vellum made from the skins of a kosher animal. Vellum is exceedingly durable – It will not tear, break, or disintegrate, even after hundreds of years. Return
103. The Hebrew term genizah refers to the practice of temporarily “hiding away” worn-out books, parchments, and papers that bear the name of God. Ordinarily, these materials would be buried in a Jewish cemetery with the same dignity that would be accorded to a deceased person and, ordinarily, it would be forbidden to burn items that require storage. However, it is always preferable to burn them to prevent the greater disgrace of disrespectful acts from being done to them. Return
104. This village is located about 18 kilometers south-southwest of the Vilna Ghetto. Its name is based upon the Russian words сорок татар, meaning Forty Tatars (Polish: as Sorok-Tatary; Lithuanian: Keturiasdešimt Totorių). The first settlers were Tatars whom Prince Vytautas brought back to Lithuania in the late 14^th Century after a successful military campaign in the Crimean Peninsula. Return
105. This was a factory where Jewish slave laborers were ordered to make fur and leather products. Kailis is the Lithuanian word for fur. Return
106. During Passover, Jews do not eat products that have leavened. Those products are referred to as chametz. Return
107. Kolkhoz is a Soviet portmanteau formed by the contraction of the Russian words meaning “collective farm.” When the Soviet Union took control of Lithuania in the summer of 1941, it rapidly transformed the country into a Soviet puppet state. Among other things, it “nationalized” (confiscated) many businesses and farms and turned the management of such “means of production” over to the workers. In this passage, the author uses the term metaphorically to mean a communally used oven. Return
108. In the Diaspora, there are eight days of the Jewish holiday of Passover. The first two and the last two days are considered religious holidays and work is prohibited. The intermediary period – the third through the sixth day– are referred to as Chol HaMoed. On those days, work is permitted. Return
109. In Lithuanian, this town's name is Kazlų Rūda. Return
110. The Yizkor prayer service is conducted four times a year, including on the second day of Shavuot. Return
111. The author is referring to the Talmudic prophecy that the sight of foxes emerging from the ruins of the Holy Temple foretold that the city of Jerusalem would be rebuilt. Seder Nezikin, Tractate Makos 24b:2-4. Return
112. A stink bomb is created by combining several chemicals which, when activated, release a foul odor. Return
113. The Hebrew term Kiddush HaShem (Sanctification of God's Holy Name) refers to someone who is murdered because of his Jewish faith. Return
114. The area known in Polish as Lipówka and in Lithuanian as Liepkalnis. Return
115. The source of this term probably is the German word Turbinenhaus (turbine house). Return
116. The German forces at Stalingrad surrendered to the Russians on February 2, 1943. Return
117. This is a passage from a prayer recited at the Pesach seder, the festive Passover dinner during which the story of the exodus of the Jews from Egypt is retold. The prayer is one of many which express gratitude for the Jewish slaves of Pharoah becoming free. Return
118. This is the Hebrew word for the body of Jewish law. Return
119. The term “S.D.” is the abbreviation for the German word Sicherheitdienst, which means the Security Service. The S.D. was the Nazi regime's intelligence service. Return
120. The term “the Good Nazi” was the title of a 2018 documentary film about Major Plagge's efforts to save Jews at H.K.P. 562. Return
121. These are the Hebrew words of Psalm 118:5. Return
122. The reference is actually to Isaiah 50:6, “I offered my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard; I did not hide my face from mocking and spitting.” Return
123. The Lithuanian rabbi Yisrael Meir ha-Kohen Kagan (1838-1933), who was an expert on Jewish law, founded the yeshiva in Radun. One of his books, which was entitled, The Chofetz Chaim (“One Who Desires Life”), was so influential that he became far better known by the name of the book. The author of this diary, Rabbi Kalman Farber, was one of his students. Return
124. Kodashim is the fifth of the six volumes of the Mishnah, which are commentaries on the Torah. Return
125. The Hebrew term bein ha-zmanim (בֵּין הַזְמַנִּים), which means “between the times,” refers to the period when a yeshiva is on vacation between semesters. Return
126. The Gemara is a collection of rabbinical analyses and commentaries on the Mishnah. The term is derived from the Semitic root for words meaning to finish or complete. The full Talmud consists of the Mishnah and the Gemara. Return
127. The Hebrew phrase bein ha-metzarim means “between dire straits” and refers to the three week period of mourning before the Ninth of Av. The Three Weeks are considered a time of misfortune, since the Jewish people has experienced many tragedies during that period, such as the destruction of the First and Second Temples on the Ninth of [the Hebrew month of] Av and the expulsion of Jews from Spain in 1492. Return
128. ZIS is the acronym for the Russian words Zavod Imeni Stalina (Factory Named for Stalin), which produced a varieties of vehicles beginning in the early inter-war period. Return
129. These are the words of Psalm 130, verses 5 and 8. Return
130. Lithuanian: Raveliai. The town is about 34 kilometers south of Vilna. Return
131. Lithuanian: Trakų gatvė. Return
132. Lithuanian: Paupio gatvė. Return
133. Lithuanian: Benediktinų gatvė. Return
134. The street's name was later changed to Tilto gatvė. Return
135. This is the Polish name for the river that the Lithuanians call the Neris. In Belarus, where the river begins, it is still known by its Slavic name, вілія (Viliya). Return
136. These were Polish partisans who fought against the Soviet, Nazi, and Lithuanian forces. Return
137. Lithuanian: Žydų gatvė. Return
138. Lithuanian: Vilnaus gatvė. Return

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