[Pages 577-578]

[Pages 579-580]

[Pages 581-582]

Summer 1939, every day we wait impatiently for the newspapers. In the evening at Kamenitzki's place we discuss the international situation, people are making little speeches and arguing, they read between the lines, predictions are expressed, and the situation becomes more serious.

We remember that it is now twenty five years after the First World War. A war mood is felt around us. The First World War is often remembered, and now we are approaching a second one. As soon as we remove the agricultural produce from the fields, then it shall start. Actually, at the end of August 1939, all civilian communication is halted, everything is taken over by the military, and a mobilization of certain ages is declared and it begins on Friday, the 1st of September.

We recall Abrasha Araronvski, whose father perished in the First World War, and he, Abrasha, perished on the first day of the Second World War. (Note: Abrasha perished while serving in the Polish Army).

New committees are being created and they are made up exclusively of Poles, and their task is to supply all the necessities that the army requires during the war; there is an order to supply smelting iron and old rubber. In order that it should not take too much time to be collected, we are instructed to place these products on the sidewalk outside the house. Which house did not have old boots and broken products which need to be thrown out? Everything was placed outside the house, as Poland was burning from all sides, but the items were never collected, and they were lying about in an embarrassing way.

The days go by slowly, full of fear, refugees are beginning to arrive. We welcome them very warmly, because at every moment we could be in their position, where shall we run? They report about the extraordinary strength of the German army, with what an amazing momentum they move forward, and today or tomorrow they might well be here, they also tell us of terrible murders of Jews.

It is the first day of Rosh Hashanah, and all the synagogues are packed with worshippers, and before the blowing of the shofar, Reb Reuven Obershtein of blessed memory, (Note: a victim of the Shoah), gives a sermon, the previously stifled crying becomes a frightening howl and continues for a long time.

Baranovich is being bombed and distance explosions are heard. Jews, especially young men, who are in great shock, are arriving in Mir. We are almost the last stop, where else can one run? “To the Soviet frontier” - that is the answer. We will find all ways to be as far away as possible from the Germans, but there is one iron wall between us! On 17^th September, the iron wall starts moving, and instead of us running to them, they came to us! It began at dawn, with the appearance of aeroplanes; we regarded them as enemy aeroplanes and we see vehicles racing past. They are moving at such a great speed, that we only see the dust that is raised. As it turned out, the aeroplanes were Soviet aeroplanes, and within a few hours, the Soviet tanks were already with us. The surprise was so great, that young and old poured out into the streets to welcome our saviours.

[Pages 583-583]

None of us had enough energy to think about the long term, we were satisfied with the present situation. The Soviet officers as well as the soldiers were very polite, they patted the children on their heads and promised the adults a happy and serene future, and we didn't want anything else but a bit of peace and quiet.

Our previous rulers have been brought down to their knees and couldn't walk around proudly anymore, and with false smiles on their faces, they bowed down to every Soviet tank.

I have to admit, that we thoroughly enjoyed their present situation; a day before, we were second class citizens. Immediately the next morning and the following days all the officials were arrested, as well as the many guests of the Polish regime, who had arrived into our town.

Already the first evening, we no longer had to darken the town, and the radio announced; it is dark in Berlin, it is dark in London but where we are it is light and joy.

As always in such cases, we were missing certain items. If one lives, one has to eat, and one fears hunger. It didn't take long and the situation slowly became normal. Previously when we were certain of hunger, people have human weaknesses; people started buying, and we were not very fussy with what we bought. One deals, one purchases and one grabs bargains. The reason for grabbing was that the military began buying everything that was available. A soldier who was wearing a scarf was asked; why does a soldier need a lady's scarf and he answers that this is a gift for his wife. Therefore it was obvious that they had no common household goods and when we asked why they don't stop asking about buying whatever is in sight, they answer “have you not seen our tanks?”

One started looking around at the undesirables. A group of Polish military colonialists, known as the Orsadniks, lived close to Der Mir. They settled here after the First World War and were allocated land and farmed the land. They were very diligent and very worldly. They were the first to be nationalized as a future Collective Farm (Kolkhoz).

The first few days after the arrival of the Red Army, the stores were closed. We did not know which currency would be in circulation. Subsequently, an announcement was made, that a Soviet Ruble will be equal to four Zlotys.

The shopkeepers were ordered to open the stores. Long lines formed outside the stores. Understandably, the first items that were sold were all leftovers and old stock, which did not remember the day they were produced. We start talking about “buying” or “swapping”. It was now a question of what they are giving out and what they are distributing?

There is a great demand; we have sellers, re-sellers and buyers. There is a possibility of earning a couple of rubles; and people started travelling to larger towns to acquire stock. Whatever was brought was snapped up; yesterday's beggars became rich overnight, but later on a heavy price was paid with our new reality.

Bialystok, from the first day, was proclaimed the capital of White Russia. The west must be connected to the east; the question must be put to a vote (nothing happens without mutual consent). Every town sends its representative to Bialystok, in order to “raise the hand” (to vote). Nochim Brock (Note: a victim of the Shoah) was sent from Der Mir. He is an honest worker, who never exploits anyone. Nochim's prestige grew tremendous and he was looked upon with new respect.

[Pages 585-586]

After the voting in Bialystock, Der Mir, was appointed as a regional town of Baranovich Oblast with a daily newspaper, two elementary schools with White Russian as the official language, one Yiddishe Folkshul in the house of Rabbi Finkel and partially in the building of the Talmud Torah; head of the school; Auerbach, teachers; Ficus, Gordon and Mania Shwartz-Bisel.

A permanent regime was installed with its rules and regulations; nationalization was installed. Some of the people started feeling insecure; they received documents which certain paragraphs did not augur well for the future. Certain people did not receive any status and were looking for employment in order to legalize their status, but there were no opportunities.

Der Mir did not have enough facilities to absorb the new system which had arrived, and in fact that is when the nationalization really began. What was nationalized? Larger businesses, pharmacies, and later houses. Offices or accommodation for the new upper class were installed in these houses.

After the arrival of the Soviets, the Mir Yeshiva with Rabbi Finkel, the head of the Yeshiva, was evacuated to Vilna.

In the building of the Yeshiva, a club was installed, which served as a constant meeting place. One of the activities in the club was a choir, which was organized by Yossel Kranovich (Note: a victim of the Shoah). The choir was attached to the “White Russian Ensemble of Song and Dance”.

The entire Rabbinical literature which remained in the Yeshiva, as well as over six thousand volumes that belonged to the Mir Library, were transferred to the old building. The solution was; first destroy and build, we saw how it was destroyed. The peasants used the books and gemorras as paper; Each one of us had already had a full load of problems, and it was not easy to adapt to a new regime. Even, if the new regime was decent and just, we bitterly watched as our cultural treasures were being destroyed. The children were very happy; they immediately were dressed in red young pioneer uniforms. Propaganda films were often showed. The youngsters immediately felt comfortable with this new situation. When they finished with the middle class (because in my opinion there were no bourgeoisie in our shtetl), they started to organize the artisans in the Batei Midrash. The members of the Batei Midrash tried to object in a peaceful manner, but nothing helped. Minyanim were organized in private homes. The previous small shop keepers, who managed to liquidate their little shops, now became an unemployed class, and survived from their savings.

The peasants were not nationalized; they did not possess large, beautiful homes or businesses. They had a different kind of shock; they were petrified of the Collective Farm (Kolkhoz). Simultaneously they had to supply the regime with everything that they possessed, and they parted with their possessions with a very heavy heart. That is why the authorities would arrange music and fly a red flag. The following morning there was an announcement in the local newspaper that “such and such” a village had supplied the regime with produce, while dancing and singing.

[Pages 587-588]

The external appearance of the shtetl changed; the market, which was always the central business centre, lost its lively appearance, the few rows of closed shops gave the appearance of an unnatural holiday.

For a certain period, there were no longer the weekly Monday market fairs; the peasants stopped selling their produce because they did not rely on the value of the Soviet currency. When the market was reopened, they remained out of town.

The park and the castle from the Middle Ages which belonged to the Count Mirsky, and which had been locked for many years, was opened for the people and served as a place for walking and relaxing, and the castle which belonged to the above mentioned Count, was converted to a hospital.

There was a tendency to acquire “heavier” clothing; instead of elegant shoes, coats and clothing, each person acquired a fur jacket, boots, felt boots and galoshes. In those days, the merchandise was not available according to the season, it would happen that on Shavuot the felts boots would be available and for Chanuka summer sandals would be available.

The same occurred with food; we started consuming much richer food; this was how our lives continued for twenty months, until the fatal date of 22 June 1941, which was the beginning of our end.

[Pages 587-588]

I was born in Krynichno, part of the Mir community. In Mir, I married Peretz Gorodejski, and lived in Mir for nineteen years. We had three children; two sons, Khaikil, of blessed memory, Yosef, of blessed memory, and a daughter, Sonia, of blessed memory. During the bombardment of the town by the Germans, my family and I walked to Krynichno, to my father. We were there for seven months. I felt very fortunate that we were in Krynichno and not in Der Mir, because in Der Mir people had already been left alone, and I was still with my whole family. However, dark days began to appear upon us too.

One Saturday morning there was a knock at the door of my father's house: a Polish person brought us a written message from Binye Grinwald, the baker; we should leave the house and tell the rest of the Jews that they should do similarly, and we should not go back to them. We started wondering what this meant; exactly at that time, there was a gentile lady in my father's house, from a place called Yenetzke (Initsa), which is six kilometers from Krynichno. I said that I will travel with her and sleep over there, and the following morning I would travel with her to Der Mir in order to understand what the written message meant. I got dressed warmly, as it was very cold, and I posed as a gentile. In the morning we arrived in Der Mir, and I went to the Judenrat. There I met Eliezer Breslin, and I asked him about the written message that Binye had previously sent. He told me that here in Der Mir, there is a Commandant named Oswald, and he informed us that we should tell the Jews in the villages that there will be a “sh'chitah” (slaughter). As the evening approached and I had to get back, Eliezer Breslin accompanied me and he promised me that if he would hear that if a “sh'chitah” (slaughter) had occurred in a village, he would hire a gentile who would travel to Krynichno to inform us that we should leave our homes. I went back to the gentile and went to sleep. In the morning, my brother Berel Krynicki arrived, and said; “my dear sister, you no longer have anybody to whom to return”.

[Pages 589-590]

On the same day when I left, six Germans and local police arrived and rounded up three families; amongst them, were my father, of blessed memory, my mother, Peshe, of blessed memory, my husband and my three children, and my brother's wife, Gittel, of blessed memory and his three children, Khaikil, of blessed memory, Yehoshua, of blessed memory and a daughter Rachel, of blessed memory, as well as our cousin, his wife and four children and Shmerel Lis, of blessed memory, and his wife and daughter. They were all shot and buried behind one of my father's buildings.

My brother and I left for the ghetto in Stolpce, shrieking and crying, if we had gone to Der Mir we would have also been shot, because we were known to Serafinowicz, the Commandant.

We went to the Judenrat and we informed them about everything that happened to our loved and dear ones, and then with the leader of the Judenrat, Wittenberg, a very nice person, we went to the Commandant and informed him (of what had occurred). Then he called us in and the Commandant said to us: not to go behind the town, not to speak to anybody and to behave tactfully, ‘do you understand, my dear swines’. Afterwards, Wittenberg from the Judenrat, brought us into a house in the ghetto, in which there were thirty two people.

How did my brother survive that day? Before the Germans arrived my brother delivered a load of grain, barley and wheat to the local mill. The Germans took everything from my father and brother including the cows and the horses: they did not think of resisting, but we were hungry and the family had grown, because my family and I were also with my father, so my brother asked a gentile to travel with him to the local Mill to fetch the flour. When my brother came back with the flour, the wife of the gentile came out of her house and said to my brother: ‘Fanya Berko! Six Germans and local police went to your house’, and when my brother heard this, he said to the gentile: “if that's the case I no longer require the flour”. He went and stood upon a hill, about a kilometer from his house, and saw how they surrounded the house and started shooting. He heard the screams of our family, as well as the words Shma Yisrael. My brother wanted to go there, but the gentiles informed him that the family is no longer alive, he should rather hide himself. He went into the forest to a gentile. At night my brother got up and went through forests and fields to reach me.

In Stolpce we suffered from hunger and dirt. We worked at the railway station for eight months and we very well understood that the darkest days are drawing closer for the Jews of Stolpce. The Jewish population no longer existed in all the surrounding villages - Judenrein. At that time I was employed by a daughter of a general, by the name of, Tamilyawski: It was not a very sweet existence: she liked me, but, she also liked the fact that I should work as much as possible, and she never provided me with any food.

We decided to escape to the forests thinking that we had many gentiles acquaintances, and each gentile will allow us in to warm ourselves and give us food. One morning my brother arrived and said that we should already go to the forests, because all men are being transferred to Baranowicze and Minsk. If we went to the ghetto to take something with us we were then already not allowed out. I went to my work and in the ghetto a husband and wife, from Turets, N'yome and Tzirel Mendelewski, attached themselves to my brother. The wife, Tzirel lifted the barbed wire of the enclosed ghetto, and allowed her husband and my brother to escape and they all came to me and from there we went to the Niemen River. It was twelve o'clock, midday, we crossed the river fully dressed and ripped off the yellow patch. We walked the whole night until we arrived into the Krynicho forest. On the way we popped into the ‘home’ of a gentile acquaintance, she gave us a big loaf of bread. During the day we lay in the forest and in the evening we went to another gentile and received more food. Going back, we dug up potatoes and carrots from our fields.

[Pages 591-592]

The pain was very great when we passed my father's house; at that stage a gentile was already living in the house, and thirty meters from the house was the mass grave, of our nearest and dearest. However, as the human desire to live is very strong, our lives continued.

When we were sleeping in the forest, at dawn we heard very loud gunfire and someone screaming; this was the Mir police who saw a group of Mir Jews. This occurred approximately one kilometer from where we were; we actually searched for these Jews but were unable to find them. The scream emanated from a boy named Schreiber, who the police injured, the remainder of the Mir Jews escaped. We left and went to another place. When, in the evening, we arrived at a gentile's house, he told us where the Mir Jews are and amongst them was my cousin by the name of Eliezer Krynicki and Yosef Paderski. They come to this gentile asking for food. We asked the gentile that he should take us to reunite with them but he brought them to us. And thus we became a group of seven people; two women and five men; my brother was the commander; what he commanded everyone obeyed. We made huts and we remained there until there was a great frost and the Niemen River froze.

It was decided that we should build a “zemlyanka” an underground bunker; but with what and how should this be done? My brother instructed us to take bags and a shovel. Our cousin's house was three kilometers away which was deserted. We took apart the oven, took the bricks in the bags, and crossed the Niemen River and brought the bricks. Lime was required as a building material; it was decided that the five men and I should look for lime; the other woman remained in the hut, as she was in a different situation. We went at night, as we were scared, not only of the Germans and the police, but also we were concerned about the partisans, as the partisans also murder Jews. As we were going together, we saw a partisan with an automatic rifle, and he called us to him. We immediately understood that the situation was not pleasant and we approached him. He asked us where we are located; we told him that we were three kilometers away. In fact, we were one kilometer away from that spot but we could not say where we actually were. He asked whether we had arms and we answered no, and then he asked us where we are going now. We said we were going to buy bread, then he instructed us to give him the money in our possession. We didn't have much but whatever we had we gave him, and then he started searching our pockets; and I was the first one that was searched, and he only found a handkerchief which he then threw onto the ground. Then he searched Yosef Paderski; when I bent down to pick up my handkerchief, he then pointed to me and said that in five minutes I shall be shot. When my brother heard this, he thought to himself that his whole family has already been murdered and now he only has one sister left, and the partisan wants to murder her as well. So what must be done? As he had a strong rod, he smashed the partisan's head a few times, the partisan managed to shoot once and my brother carried on smashing his head with the rod. Simultaneously my cousin, Eliezer grabbed the rifle and I grabbed the rifle from Eliezer and I said to Yosef Paderski; let's run with the rifle. As we were running we heard three shots, and I was certain that my brother was had been shot. As my

[Pages 593-594]

brother was smashing him on the head, the partisan took out a revolver from his pocket and said; “now we will talk”, and he shot three times, and my brother and the rest of the men ran away. When I came back to the bunker, everyone was there, and a new problem arose. Where should we go?

The bandit was beaten but not killed; he will recover and he will find us. So we went two kilometers with the rifle and with the thought that we will build a second bunker but what materials can we use? We have no saws and no choppers and it was freezing. We only have one spade, so we dug a hole and thus we ended up sitting in this bunker.

How did we survive? Our five men in the middle of the night would go to familiar gentiles and steal potatoes from the cellar; the cellars were very close to their homes. It was extremely risky. During the night they would bring between thirty to forty pounds of potatoes and when we consumed the potatoes they would bring more. From the potatoes I made “latkes” pancakes, potato porridge and even “kneidlach”. We couldn't complain about the appetite.

The wounded bandit had six wounds in his head as a result of my brother's rod. When he recovered he started searching for us. He willingly beat several Jews requesting that they tell him where we are located. When the snow melted, my brother found two youngsters who had been shot; certainly shot by him. My brother buried them.

We become unwell from all the potatoes we are consuming without salt. A few weeks ago, we gave a poor gentile money in order that she should bring us salt from the village. We have to go at night to collect the salt and the Nieman River had been frozen earlier. When it got warmer, the ice in the middle of the river melted, and on the banks there was still ice. How on earth can we cross the Nieman River? My brother said we should chop down ten trees; high but not very thick, and carry them to the river at night, then place them on the flowing water and then we can cross over. We chopped down the trees, take two logs and we go in the middle of the night, I, too, with them. We are all going. The wife remains alone in the bunker.

It was difficult to see where to go as there was a snowstorm. Nevertheless we went and arrived at the River Nieman. We throw the logs from one side of the river to the other side; we cross the Niemen River and we arrive at the gentile. We wake her up, and she feeds us and gives us the salt. We ask her what news there is. She then tells us that there were many Germans and they came across a partisan, and they shot him. We ask her who the partisan was, and she tells us that his name was Mitke, and he was the one we had beaten.

We very happily went back to the bunker. My clothes were entirely hard and frozen; besides that I had a massive boil on my cheek; I cured myself with very primitive methods. Before Purim, when the snow starting melting, water started flowing everywhere, and in order to avoid

[Pages 595-596]

the water, five partisans and a commando arrived at our base. When Tzirel Mendelewski came out she saw the partisans and she said “Berel, we are leaving”. When I heard this I said to the remaining four men, grab the automatic rifle and let's run. They listened to me and we ran through the mud above and there was still snow. My shoes fell apart. I was completely barefoot. My brother and Tzirel remained near the bunker, as Tzirel was already in her ninth month and she couldn't run, and my brother did not want to abandon her. Her husband ran with us, when we had run quite a distance, we heard my brother calling me, then I said that we should hide the rifle, and this we did and we went back. We showed the partisans a path for them to leave to get to their destination and they left. We were very happy that they did not harm us, but in a few days again we saw partisans, but this time it was different; five partisans stood next to our bunker with assorted weaponry, even with a grenade launcher. They ordered us all to leave the bunker, and they asked all our names. They immediately beat up and bloodied Yosef Paderski. They demanded Mitke's rifle, because when they saw us the first time, they understood that we had beaten Mitke and taken his rifle. Two armed partisans told me to stand aside, in order that I would tell them where the rifle was and then they would take us to the “otriad” (a partisan detachment). However, if I will not disclose what they wanted to know, they will shoot me. However, previously, under any circumstances we decided not to disclose that we possess the rifle.

I told the partisans that they can do what they want to do, my life is not dear to me and they can shoot me, but we do not have any rifle. I heard shots from the bunker, and I thought that they shot one of our group and then they would shoot us all, but they shot no-one except for one of our group, who they beat with the butt of the rifle. They left and took Yosef Paderski with them and they told us that we should not go anywhere, as they will always find us. When they took Yosef Paderski away, about one hundred metres from us, they instructed him to run away, and then they shot in the air, and that was the end of the episode.

[Pages 596-597]

It was either a Thursday or Friday when Tzirel Mendelewski went into labour. I became the midwife. I told the men to leave, but her husband remained with us. I cut up a sack, and spread it out on the ground. The bunker is dark, we illuminate the bunker by taking bark from the birches and when they dry out we light them. This causes a lot of smoke initially and with these candles her husband provides the light. I helped her as the midwife and a little golden baby boy is born. It was decided that his name is Yossele, because her first son was shot by the Germans, and his name was Yossele.

We are now a group of eight people; my brother goes at night to the gentiles and finds a little box from which pigs and cows had eaten. It was brought to the bunker, and my brother, with a knife made a crib with four ropes. He attaches it to the beams, and they start rocking their son. I poured warm water into a big dish and I bathed the child.

After the child was born, we had no means of having him wrapped. The father decided to go to a gentile, whose home is a kilometer away, to ask for some “shmattes” (rags). The snow was melting and there were big pools in the meadows. This is before Purim and it is still very cold. He comes to the gentile and she gives him a whole bag of “shmattes” (rags), and he goes home happily. We wait a long time, the father of the child does not come, my brother says we should go and see what happened; perhaps he is drowning. My brother takes along Eliezer and Yosef Paderski and they take a large stick and they proceed. They come to the end of a pool and then they heard a voice shouting ; “Jews, I am drowning”. They moved closer and they saw that the father of the child was standing in water up to his neck and he is drowning. My brother passed him the stick and drags him out. He is pale and trembling and they proceeded to go home all sopping wet.

This is what happened; in the meadow there was a deep swamp; a type of round, standing rivulet. When the water flowed one could not see where the swamp was, and he landed directly in the middle swamp. Had my brother not gone to search for him, he certainly would have drowned.

At night, the son cries; he is hungry. His mother eats very little as she doesn't have much to eat and she does not have milk to feed the child. The child cries and we cannot sleep. We all keep quiet and the father rocks the child and curses that he would have been better off drowning instead of landing in such a situation; that a child should be born under such awful circumstances. We all laugh at him and time passes. The child grew and it is already after Pesach. We decide to go to a second forest, to find the Mir Jews and to get further information. We get up at night; myself, my brother and our cousin Eliezer. We go at night, because during the day we could meet up with partisans or police. We cross the river; we come to the forest where the Mir Jews are. We discovered that the Mirrer experienced a tragedy; their bunkers were destroyed and they fled. Four people were caught by the Germans and chased into the river and they drowned.

We go further into the forest and we find a bunker. My cousin proceeds a few steps and he heard the sound of snoring. He came back and he said that there may be wolves down there; my brother asked him to go down again, suddenly Farfel from Nesvich appears out of the bunker with a son and daughter in law, as well as Tevil Razovski from Der Mir and Pinye Mendelovitz. They were very excited to meet us and they took us to the other Jews of Der Mir.

There were another sixty people and they lived above ground. We spent a whole day with them and we returned later that evening. From that time onwards we would visit them every week, and later we decided to move to their camp. My brother built a hut, and we were together with the Mirrer.

[Pages 598-599]

There we also met Hirshel Pernikov and his wife, Sarah. Sarah was near the end of her pregnancy. At the time that I joined them, she was in labour. I was called to attend to her, she was lying in a collapsed bunker. I heated up a bucket of water and I sat and waited. I ask her husband if he has matchsticks and he confirmed that he had. He tries to strike the matchsticks but they did not light. The husband then went to look for matchsticks in a second camp. This is a kilometer away. Both of us remained in the bunker and it was already dark. A little girl was born, and I bathed her in the bucket of water, which had already become quite cold. I wrapped the baby. At the moment the ceiling started collapsing over our heads, tons of earth had been lying on top of the roof of the bunker, and I feel that we would soon be covered by earth. I said to Sarah; “come out because we soon will be totally covered”. Sarah got up and we crawled out of the bunker; the baby is in my arms and I took a sack and spread it out on the ground and I instructed her to lie down and wrapped them in the sack. I then took off my fur and covered them. It was already night time and her husband came back with matchsticks. We decided to ask other people to carry her to another bunker, but that bunker also collapsed. What should we do? We decided to take them to our camp. Next to my hut a new hut was built. We decided to put them into the new hut, about a kilometer away. I carried the baby and four people carried Sarah. We came to the hut at midnight. We put Sarah into the hut and I took the baby. In the morning I brought the baby to Sarah.

We spent the whole summer in that camp, and we had enough to sustain ourselves. This was the 15th of July 1943, there was a military operation in the whole area. In the morning the Germans were everywhere, but we did not know about this.

When my brother and I went into the village to ask for bread, a gentile asked my brother “where are you going? There are Germans everywhere”. We returned to the forest and warned all the Jews. We grabbed our belongings and go to a second forest. The group of Jews surround us, as they don't want to leave us, because my brother knew the whole area.

Tzirel Mendelewski was carrying the baby, who is already four months old.

There was shooting and screaming throughout the forest. The Germans advanced and see a new path. They followed this path into the forest where we were sitting quietly. We were extremely fortunate that the baby was asleep. We were a group of twenty five people, and for five days we were surrounded by Germans until they left.

A month later we decided to leave the forest where we were and go to the Naliboki Forest. It was seventy five kilometers away and we walked all the way. We all walked including the two women with their small babies. Two days later we arrived at the Bielski Otriad. However, Bielski and his armed fighters were not at the Otriad. Kessler, the Commander, was at the Otriad. The same day that we arrived, Bielski and his fighters also returned, the “family” grew and there was a total of twelve hundred people.

Bielski took over command. Workshops were built; there were tailors, shoemakers, carpenters, hairdressers and even watchmakers.

I was part of the group of tailors. I worked a lot as I was responsible for the whole production and I was thanked in the report which was read by Bielski the Commander. Not everyone received this recognition. I also stood guard at the post many times in the freezing cold. Younger people than me did not stand guard, as in general one needed to have favouritism.

We spent a year at the Bielski Otriad and it was already July 1944. The Germans began to retreat. The partisans captured living Germans.

[Pages 600-601]

It was then organized that all the armed partisans should remain outside the camp. My brother was amongst these people as he had a rifle which I had given him. This was a gift from my present husband, Berkowitcz, when he came to visit us from the Chkalovskaya Brigade. My brother came and went to sleep and I went to the workshop.

Suddenly we heard shooting; our armed partisans started running because they heard Germans and they wanted to capture them. When our partisans were running in one direction, one hundred Germans came running from the other direction and there was a massive shootout.

I carried on sewing until I heard the Commander shouting; “pass the mortar”. Then I understood that this is not a joke and I ran to wake my brother. When I was running bullets were flying like hailstones; I ran into the bunker. My brother quickly dressed and took the rifle. At that time an injured tailor from Novugrodok, crawled in through the window. His name was Simcha. In a few minutes time, a German appeared at the window. My brother shot him and he was injured in the leg. The Germans were close and started shooting at our bunker. My brother then said; “Esther, run after me”. We ran out of the bunker. The bullets were flying like rain. We ran through the mud and waited until it quietened down.

When we came back to our camp, eight Jews had been killed. Amongst them, was Avraham Shizuk.

The worst days were the days before we left the forest, as from all directions there was shooting and we did not know in which direction to run. In our Otriad there were many old people and little children, and thus the panic was even greater than normal.

On the third day after the Germans had arrived, we all left the forest in the direction of Novogrudok. We walked for two days and in Novogrudok we were issued with temporary documents. Each one then left for his village.

My brother and I with our knapsacks on our backs met Russian soldiers, who were on their way to Der Mir. We arrived with them in the shtetl.

[Page 602]

With a great pain in my heart, I approached the place where my house had been and where I had given birth to my three children, and where they grew up.

It was difficult to recognize, that once there was a house with three stables. The gentiles planted potatoes and beans which grew very well.

[Pages 601-602]

A New Commander

Fearful and concerned faces; what occurred, a new decree? Yes, a new Commandant from Turetz has arrived. An oppressor, a murderer and a bloodthirsty leech. The terrible news is passed on by word of mouth, and we avoid going outdoors; being invisible is the best solution.

The day is ending.

After nightfall we feel more secure. In the dark it is easier to cope. There's a knock on the window; there is a messenger from the Judenrat; on the morrow at 8.00 a.m. everybody between the ages of 15 to 60 must assemble in the market place. It was a sleepless night, and from our previous experiences, we knew what to expect when told to go to the market place.

Quietly in our hearts we part with the nearest and dearest. The thought arises; whether tomorrow we will all still be together, who knows, tomorrow..... tomorrow.....

The first victim of the new Commandant was actually not a Jew; a peasant from a neighboring village, and another peasant was angry with him and he therefore handed him over to the new Commandant. When they came to murder him, they actually decided to mentally torture him.

The peasant was a very powerful man, and he screamed so loudly that the whole village heard everything. They decided in order to quiet him that they would use another method; they tied a belt around his neck and simply strangled him. We saw at night, how they were carrying kerosene lamps in a nearby garden, and that's where they buried the new victim. From this house, several Jews were taken to do the burial. In the morning at 8.00 a.m., everyone poured out of their homes, fearful and resigned to their destiny. Fortunately nothing happened on this day. The new Commandant displayed a nice gesture and did not harm anyone; he simply ordered everybody to go daily at the agreed time to their workplace.

He knew very well that the Mir Jews would not escape, and he would always have the opportunity to wallow in their blood. It is worthwhile to note that at early days following his arrival in Der Mir, a teacher from a nearby town, a certain Vladimir Petrovich Tzorik, was able to influence him. When the Commandant would start misbehaving with the Jews, we would immediately approach Tzorik, and he was able to influence him positively and he held back. Later, Tzorik did not help either and we stopped approaching him.

[Pages 603-604]

Coffee Beans

It was a regular Friday. However, for us it was no longer a regular Friday as we are now under an evil regime whose motto is to destroy the Jews. A higher ranking military man comes and he asks for the host. I declare myself as the hostess. There is a plastered cellar. He requests the key. I give him the key and he indicates with a wink that I should accompany him. I am certain that he will shoot me in the cellar. Why not? I remain calm, and my panic stricken family follows us, and I understand that they think the same as I do. He asks me to open and to go in ahead of him. The coward is scared of an explosion, and perhaps even the walls will start shooting at him!? He checks out momentarily the interior and then goes out and I follow him. I lock the door and he takes the key and leaves. Everything is done by gestures, without talking. The family are happy that I survived but we cannot understand why he took the key. This means that the show is not over. At midday he sends back the key. Everything is okay.

It is now evening and everyone is at home. It is now the quiet hour. Everything is dead quiet, no candles in the windows, only the moon was shining. Suddenly there is a signal from a whistle. We look around and wonder what this means. In the distance we see human silhouettes. As they approach we see military people as well as two civilians. They approach directly to our house. It is the same military with several soldiers. One of the civilians is a man called Gliksman, a refugee from Lodz as well as Ephraim Sinder. The two Jews are dead scared. When Gliksman was initially taken, he was taken to bid farewell to the family because they will never see each other again. Probably he told Ephraim Sinder the same.

The officer immediately calls me. I approach him and two words are uttered; Coffee Beans!! I tell him that we do not have any coffee beans, and I offer him all sorts of other things that are worthwhile. His answer is “coffee beans”! Minute by minute he becomes angrier and we are totally confused. Amongst the fighters there was someone who spoke Polish, “save yourselves and give him coffee beans”, but where do we get these? Finally an order was given; “alle raus!” (everyone out). Everyone leaves the house, children and adults. The sleeping children, the small, unfortunate babies, who still do not understand anything. We wrap them in blankets, the mothers are petrified that the children should not catch a cold. We take them out of the house, and everyone stands in line. The rogue stands opposite us and plays with his revolver. He gives us to understand, that if he does not receive his request “something will happen”, the familiar phrase, that is that we should not rely on his good intentions. I was the only one to find coffee beans. I run to the nearby neighbors to see if anyone has coffee beans, and some do not have, and the ones that do have, are not prepared to give us as they keep them in reserve in the event that he may have to barter the coffee beans for himself and his family. I run around like a “poisoned mouse” and time does not stand still. The brain works intensively, how “on earth” can I save them? Again and again I run into the house and I rip the walls with my eyes – a miracle should occur!!!.

Suddenly....... my eyes spot a tin box full of sweet of things. With full force I tear the box open, and I also find a forgotten box of cocoa. My only hope. I run out with great pleasure. I give it to him and he smells it and feels it; “chocolate”!!! Great. We were ordered to disperse. He is not miserly to give me a few good beatings on the head, which at this moment I did not even feel. Exhausted and ashamed, but nevertheless fortunate, we all enter the house. Whispering quietly, thank G-d we endured with fear.

[Pages 605-606]

In the morning we discover that we were not the only ones with whom the sadist played his game.

It is early morning in the summer. We are all lying spread out on the floor. Not an inch of empty space. We sleep restlessly. Suddenly a bang on the door and the door bursts open. A tall German with a murderous face stands in the doorway. We tear ourselves up from our places, in a moment we are fully awake and sleep disappears. With a whistle and hand motion which means; “get out of here”, and we understand what he means. We leave the room in a hurry. Our hearts beats as we jump out. He looks around, what he needs to do, and by the way, whoever is in his way, he beats us with steel hands with all his might. He orders us to prepare two rooms where he wishes to accommodate his senior officer. With the greatest precision, we fulfill his command. We wish to prevent any reason that may anger this wicked man.

When we finish the work, we see on all the doors leading to this room, swastikas, as well as the words “entry for Jews is forbidden”.

We are shocked; this is just the beginning – we think. The house is filled with people. Having taken away two rooms from us, the house becomes even more crowded. Nevertheless, who notices this? We speak quietly holding our breaths; even the little children maintain their silence. Regarding food and daily work – is not relevant. The only wish is that the wicked man will not think about us.

That day I had the courage and the desire to “bite” the rogue; and therefore to prevent terrible consequences. There are still people that needed protection; the whole family was still alive. I followed him with my willingness to do whatever he requested. He gave me his boots to polish and I polish them, he asks me to wash and repair his socks I also did this. I do not know if he wants to subjugate me or simply rather that I should do it, instead of him doing it himself. The fact is that after all the work is finished, I notice that the swastika had been removed and also the words “for Jews”. The only thing that remained was “entry forbidden”. At that moment it is a great satisfaction for us.

It came to mind Thank G-d we endured with fear.

Copyright © 1999-2024 by JewishGen, Inc.
Updated 15 Mar 2024 by LA