[Page 273]

He was born in Korelitz. His father Zelig and his mother Toibe were quiet, calm parents. His father was always content with what he had.

Zelig worked in construction. When construction work was unavailable, however, he had a horse and would go around in the villages with all kinds of merchandise and sell his wares to the peasants or barter with old clothes.

His son Shlomo completed public school and helped his father feed the family. Together with his father, he would go around the villages all week long. They would come home for the Sabbath with their earnings: money and provisions of food.

This is what he did until the war. In 1942, the Korelitz Jews were transferred to the ghetto in Novogrudek. In August 1942, when the Korelitz Jews were murdered in a great massacre, a small number miraculously saved themselves, including Shlomo and his brother. For months they went around the villages around Korelitz along with other teenagers from Korelitz. Shlomo was familiar with the area from earlier times when he used to go around with his father. They went around like this until the winter. Some Christians would give them a small loaf of bread, a bottle of milk. Sometimes they slept in a barn or in a storage pit for potatoes. They spent the day in the woods or in the bushes.

There were no more Jews there. Christians were afraid to let a Jew into their houses on account of the Germans or were just unwilling to save any Jews. As he was wandering about like this, Shlomo found out that there was a group of partisans under the direction of the Jewish commander, Tuvia Bielski and his brothers.

With great effort, he reached the group led by Chaim Avramovitch, a young man from Korelitz. Chaim took him into his group. From the start, Shlomo's devotion and courage were in evidence.

His abilities were revealed when Bielski's group was sent to the Nalibok forest. The whole area was full of partisans. Bielski's unit alone numbered about 1,200 members. Food was naturally a problem. Shlomo was made a group leader by an order from Commander Bielski. They went to the area around Korelitz, into the villages which were under the nose of the Germans. “Bring back a lot of food: grain, meat, etc.“ The partisans who went with him were amazed how capable and proud he was. They liked him a lot. He was modest.

After the liberation, Shlomo left the forests and went to Italy and from Italy he came to Israel. He learned a trade and supported his family honorably. He often visited my family. He asked me, “How can I help you?” He asked if I needed any money, or if I wanted him to teach me his trade, which was a way to earn a lot of money.

He was drafted into the Israel Defense Forces and fell in battle near Latrun, defending the newly proclaimed State.

May his memory be honored!

[Page 275]

Yaacov ben Leibe Hirsh Oberzhinsky was born in Korelitz in 1908. He went to the heder, the yeshiva, and spent three years in the Hebrew Teachers Seminar “Tarbut” (1925-1928). He went to the training farm (hachshara) in Vilna and was head of the “kibbutz” there. He came to Eretz Israel in 1938 and joined Kibbutz Ramat Rachel. In 1939 he moved to Kibbutz Yagur. He was an excellent dairyman.

He participated in the War of Independence and fell in the Negev area, 1 Heshvan 5709 (1949). He was buried in the military cemetery in Jerusalem.

[Page 278]

“Sing, sing! Raise aloud your pained and broken voice, Search! Search for Him up there, above, if He is still here – And sing to Him…. Sing to Him the last song of the last Jews, Lived, died, not buried and no more… ” — How can I sing - since the world is desolate for me? How can I play with broken hands? Where are my dead ones? I'm looking for my dead ones, God, in every pile of rubbish, In every mound of ashes: Oh! - Tell me where you are! Shout out from every pile of sand, from every stone, Shout out from the all the dust, flames, smoke – It's your blood and sap, it's the marrow of your bone, It's your body and life! Shout out, shout aloud! Oh, show yourself to me my people, show yourself, extend your hand Out of the pits, deep and miles long, thickly packed, Layer under layer, poured over with lime and burned, Up! Up! Rise up from the lowest, deepest layer! Come all of you from Treblinka, from Sobibor, from Auschwitz, From Bergen-Belsen, come from Ponary and from more, more and more! With eyes torn open, a frozen shout, “Oh, Lord, enough already!” and voiceless! Come from swamps, from mud deeply sunken, from decayed moss. Come dried up, crushed, rubbed to pieces, come, present yourselves In a round dance, a large circle around me, a large ring – Grandfathers, grandmothers, mothers with little children on their laps – Come, Jewish bones from powders, from pieces of soap. Show yourselves to me, all of you show yourselves to me, come all, come. I want to see you all, I want to look at you, I want To have a look at my annihilated people, mute, silenced. And I will sing… Yes…. Here the harp - I play.

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