The organizations of the communities after the Holocaust produced a literature rich both in content and form; it already comprises more than 400 memorial books and community records – and their number is still growing.

This literature has already given us much of value, and there is no doubt that it will surprise us by various innovations. The total number of these books in which we get the description of the life in the communities – in times normal and in the Holocaust has already reached dimensions unparalleled in the history of our culture and this in spite of the fact that in past times we were confronted with severe historical crises. These crises which brought about profound spiritual reactions and led to a literary expression of great significance. (Vide chronicles “Shevet Yehuda”, “Emek–Habacha”, and others).

This momentous enterprise of the memorial books and community records, published mainly in Israel, which were intended to serve as tombstones to the Jewish communities which were wiped out of the earth, and to the Jewish life that beat there vigorously – this enterprise is a witness of a vast movement of the people searching for a way to immortalize a world lost.

Great is the ambition among the survivors to set memorial volumes for the destroyed settlements, whether small and the number of survivors is little. Some of these books appeared in costly publications which are proof of the awe and reverence the organizers set down to task.

The terrible cataclysm struck far down into the heart of the people and is still living in our souls, thoughts and feelings; it compels us to record and revive all which has been lost in measures we have never dreamt of.

The Skarzysko–Kamienne Book is listed among those having mainly autobiographical and subjective features. These books though having few works noted for their historical perspective, synthetic conception of the material or clean cut style still clarify much of the unknown and puzzling in our historical research. Without them we would have known almost nothing about the history of small communities, of their mode of living, how did they make a living, about their cultural life, the folk literature that grew up there, the fate of people of fame and name, their creativity and their extinction. The memory of many settlements and communities would have been lost without these sources, because no official documents can be found which would describe and tell their struggle to survive and live – the measurements of their destruction.

The significance of the “Skarzysko Book” lies in its content. There is a story of the last decades of the community (the development of the Jewish town and settlement in the 20 years between the two world wars is connected with the local projects for making armaments) and the historical description is based neither on official documents nor on printed books or periodicals, but mainly on memories. The importance of the book lies also in the fact that all we find in it may not be found in any other place as documents on the events related here do not exist at all, or even if they did exist they had been lost before any use could be made of them for historical research.

When the editor and the writers sat down to write a memorial volume for their community composed of their memories, they drew up their longing for their birth place – the townlet where they were brought up and educated. They were enwrapped with the grief for the loss of relatives and friends. They used all the details in the way an unsophisticated man would do when describing an event. They used the popular tone and language and popular sayings of the people and these are an essential part of this book. The book stamped with the seal of collective work does thus comprise

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abundant material which enables us to learn to know the spirit and character of the Jewish people – aspects hard to be found in professional literature.

A weighty part of this book is devoted to the memories and testimonies rendered by the survivors who lived through the tragic period of ghetto and concentration camps. This information is an important contribution for the reconstruction of the events, the establishment of facts and phenomena having a historical significance.

The Central Archive Yad V–Shem has put at the editors' disposal the entire lot of testimonies that had been recorded of the survivors and this – to be written down in the history of the Holocaust. Among these are testimonies that were drawn immediately after the war. These testimonies are an important source from which is to be learned about the experience of the individual and groups in the days of the Holocaust. Thus these testimonies highlight the significance of the phenomena of devotion in all their farms and appearances, those of rebellion, that were expressed by the Jews in their most tragic period.

If we take into account the fact that the German process of extermination was not intended only at the physical capitulation and extermination of the Jews, but at the destruction of their cultural treasures as well (the Beit–Hamidrash, the Jewish Cemetery, etc.) then without this documentary material and the recorded memories it would have been impossible to reconstruct the colossal dimensions of the destruction and robbery, the horror of persecution and murder. It would have been impossible to immortalize the fathom of grief and agony which only an eye witness could have felt and remembered.

Among the members of the organization of the survivors of Skarzysko, like among other organizations of the kind, there are people (Yerachmiel Sheer, Eliezer Lewin and their fellows) who dedicated all their powers to write a Yizkor Book and devoted the best of their time and energy to immortalize the community in which their ancestors had lived a full and creative life, where they themselves spent the best years of their life.

In conclusion it has to be noted that material in the Skarzysko–Kamienne Book is of great value as a source which after being examined and investigated will be side by side with the material stored in the archives already published – of great value and use to the writing of an appropriate monograph of the story of that community.

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The town is located in the valley of the river Kamienna, north of Sw. Krzyska hills at the height of 230–250 meters above sea level. It lies at a distance of 42 kilometers north of the city of Kielce. The town is an important railway junction between Warsaw and Krakow and from Lodz to Zusmir (Sandomierz).

The area embracing the present territory of Skarzysko–Kamienna blossomed during the centuries with productive life. The territory consisted of the villages Kamienna, Militza, Fusada, Mlodziawy, Rayow, and Bzien. Together with the nearby villages Skarzysko–Koscielna and Skarzysko–Ksionzenca they were once belonging partly to the Order of Bernardines and partly to the estate of the noblemen of the House of Schidlovitsky and thereafter to the Radzivils. Thus the partition of Skarzysko–Koscielna.

At first the village of Bzien was the most important one where there was already in the year 1440 a blast furnace and a mine of lead and iron. In the year of 1754 approximately another gigantic blast furnace had been built and next to it two smelting plants for metal. Two more factories were built at the same time at the village Kamienna. After the transfer of these two villages to the authority of the State of Poland (Congress–Poland, the Duchess of Warsaw that was annexed to Russia, according to the treaty of the Vienna Congress of 1815) the works were expanded in the year 1818 and a dam was built to raise the Kamienna River which still exists up to this day. Since then the settlement of Bzien rose in importance and the railway station, built in 1885, carried its name.

Only in the year 1907, after the founding of the metallurgical works of Vitavitsky and the stock company “Skarzysko”, the name Skarzysko became dominating for the town and the surrounding villages that were incorporated into its limits. Skarzysko was proclaimed as a town in 1923. In the year 1921 the population numbered 8163 residents, in 1931 – 14320 and in 1939 – 18200.

The rapid rise of the town in the 20 years period between the two World Wars came as a result of the quick development in the manufacture of arms.

The beginning of the Jewish settlement of Skarzysko was due to the establishment of the railway junction at the end of the previous century.

In my effort to describe the development of the Jewish settlement in the town, I have to rely on hearsay of my childhood and adolescent years in my home–town, and especially on stories told by “Herzke Shochat” (slaughterer) that he used to describe while visiting at my parents. For the lack of any historical documentation his stories will have to be relied upon as the history of the Jewish settlement of our town.

Herzke Shochat was one of the first settlers of our town. He was accepted as the first “Shochet” (ritual slaughterer) of the congregation, when he moved from Shidlovitze in his early years at the beginning of the 20^th century. Prior to this he used to come once a week to Bzien, a town suburb, to slaughter chickens and bringing also kosher meat which he used to sell to the Jewish residents of Skarzysko, Bzien and the neighborhood. In Bzien was also established the first “Minian” for prayers on Saturdays and Holidays.

With the mounting of the Jewish migration to Skarzysko, the center of their community life moved with them. When a few scores of Jewish families moved to Skarzysko there was a need for a Schchat, a steady resident in town, and Herzke then moved to Skarzysko. He also served as a “More Horaha” (Interpreter of Law) in problems of “Kashrut” and as a junior temporary Rabbi until the Congregation was able to elect as its spiritual leader the Rabbi Shalom Arye Rabinowitz, a descendant of the “Holy Jew” of Pshische.

In the year 1910 the first synagogue was built and during the World War I a cemetery of the town was consecrated. Before that they used to take the dead ones for burial to Shidlovze. It is worthwhile to mention that for a long time the authorities identified the Jewish community of Skarzysko as an integral part of the Shidlovze community.

The development of the Jewish community in town was very rapid. The Polish workers and office employees of the big arm factories and railway works served as a source of sustenance for the industrious and enterprising Jews, and at the time of the slaughter of the Polish Jewry

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there lived in Skarzysko about six hundred Jewish families.

Skarzysko–Kamienna was not among the best known Jewish communities in Poland. In comparison to the old established Jewish communities this was a very recent one. Shidlovze, however, was famous over afar on account of its rabbis, the descendant of the “Holy Jew” of Pshische. When the railway station was built in Skarzysko, Shidlovze turned into a deserted town and a great many Jews moved to Skarzysko which grew into a prosperous and flourishing town.

The residents of Shidlovze used to tell that owing to the shortsightedness of the leaders of the community, the railway line was built at a distance of eight kilometers away from the town. Two different versions were circulating about this occurrence. The first one was telling about an unsatisfying gift presented to the “Gubernator” (governor) by the community leaders. The governor felt offended and as revenge ordered the railway station to be built at the village Skarzysko. The second version told was that horsemen and their dependents were afraid of a disaster confronting them by having the railway passing through Shidlovze and bribed the governor in order that the station should be built far from the town. I cannot establish the reliability of the versions which of the two is the proper one. However, it should be stressed that the building of the new railway station contributed largely to the development of the Jewish settlement in Skarzysko. On the other hand it hindered the source of the livelihood of the Jews in Shidlovze and brought upon the migration of a considerable part of its residents of our town.

When Hertz Shochat used to recollect his memories about the first Jews in Bezin and Skarzysko he used to mention the first two Yerachmiels of Shidlovze: Yerachmiel the Long and Yerachmiel the Short. Therefore there were many people in the town named Yerachmiel. The son of Yerachmiel Feldman was the famous Reb Mendel Feldman, an industrialist who became very rich in the time of the Tzar. At the early development of the town the Jewish population concentrated around him and his establishments.

I arrived in Skarzysko from Lodz in the year 1928. There I was brought up from my early childhood in the Alexander Shtiblech (Hassidic synagogues) and was enthusiastic at the “Alexander” method of mutual friendship. Also at my new domicile I carried on my religious way and joined the Alexander Hassidim at the Shtibel, the congregation of which included the prominent personalities of the town: Reb Bunim Berish Abramowitz, a sharp–minded scholar, a genius and at the same time a strictly modest person. Every Friday, after Mincha–prayer, before reciting the prayers of Sabbath Eve, he used to learn with the public for an hour the book “Ismach Moshe” written by the late Alexander Rabbi. People used to apply to him with queries and with complicated arbitration matters from the whole province of Kielce. Reb Meishke Weinberg, who was for a certain period the President of the Jewish Community of the townlet, a man with a presentable appearance, a candidate to the late Polish “Sejm” (parliament). Reb Yechezkel Weitzman – the ritual slaughterer of the townlet, thoroughly imbued with the spirit of love of the Jewish people, always ready to help one in need or sick people. Among the constant worshipper in the Shtibel was Reb Fishel Danziger with his son Chaim Leib, the old Kaufman (he was a brother–in–law of Reb Nathan Akiveles), Yechiel Ginzberg and his brother Chaim, Moshe Ginzberg and his brother Josef, Reb Chaim Grinberg – one of the wealthy men in the town, Reb Yechiel Feldman and his son Yerachmiel–Nachum, Itche and the small Dovidl. The Feldman Family was always devoted to, public good. At the second world–war, when the first displaced persons from Plotzk arrived in Skarzysko, Yechiel Feldman opened a kitchen for needy at his house and was fully absorbed in that enterprise. When a hospital was opened in the ghetto, he donated bed linen and clothing which remained from his business. He also let his children join him in his charitable work and brought food from the kitchen for the sick. When the Jewish murdered victims were brought from “Hasag” (by that time many of the murdered persons used to be sent to the town and were buried at the Jewish cemetery), Reb Yechiel Feldman, as a member of the Hevra Kadisha (burial society), took out from his store the last bed sheets and linen and made shrouds there from.

I would also like to mention here the Shtibel worshipper – Reb Shmuel Kaner, who was the first victim at the time of deportation and liquidation of the ghetto, having been shot to death with his wife and four children in the basement where they hid.

As mentioned, the essence of The Alexander Hassidism was mutual friendship, the close attachment to one another of the Shtibel worshippers

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and their readiness to help one another came to expression practically every day. It was especially felt on Saturdays and Holidays. Worshipping on the eve of Sabbath started only after the poor people and beggars who happened to arrive in the townlet were accommodated among the different houses. Itche Weinreich, or as he was nicknamed “the Black Itche” used to stand at the pulpit. He was considered among the best cantors in the town and his melodies penetrated into the depth of the heart, touching the hidden strings of the soul. The holiness of the approaching Sabbath fluttered throughout the Shtibel and the worshippers felt as they were putting off the grey daily activities, doing away with the worries of earning their livelihood and attaching themselves to the holy Sabbath blessed by Almighty, on which “He rested from all his work”.

Itche Weinreich was never a rich man. He derived his earnings as a peddler, having sold different articles to officials on installments. Therefore he was always sort of cash money, he could not pay his promissory notes in time and consequently entered into debts. Once upon a Friday one of his creditors – a wholesaler from Lodz – arrived in the town, approached the court and on basis of the protested notes he obtained an order of attachment, and as soon as Itche came home from his peddling, that merchant imposed an attachment on his property. Nevertheless, Itche put on his silk capote and went to the Shtibel to pray. He was, however, so broken down that he fainted in the middle of the worship. Worshipping was t hen interrupted and as soon as he pulled himself together he told with tears in his eyes the whole story with the merchant. Reb Moeiske Weinberg ascended then to the pulpit, clapped on the table and proclaimed: “Worshipping will not be continued unless the matter is settled”. Jointly with Reb Yechezkel the Shochet he approached each of the worshippers that they should contribute according to their ability and bring their contribution to the Shtibel on Saturday evening. Meanwhile it became known that the merchant remained for Sabbath in town (it was in winter time and he did not manage to go back to Lodz) and that he was staying at Fridman's hotel. A “delegation” approached him on Saturday evening and made him a big scandal. They shouted at him – “how could you do a Jew such a shameful thing on the eve of Shabbath?!” They threatened him that he would not leave the town in peace, unless he would go to a “Din–Torah” to the Rabbi. The whole town raged and Reb Bunim–Berish and Reb Meir Kachan were the arbitrators before the Rabbi Reb Mordchele. After long negotiations a compromise was reached and the merchant agreed to accept a sum of three hundred Zlotys only and he cancelled the claim against Itche. All that was attained thanks to our unity and brotherhood.

On Saturday evening, at Shalosh–Seudoth (the third meal) it was a custom at the Shtibel that every time another worshipper arranged the meal. At Simchat Torah every one used to give a couple of Zlotys for drinks, and while the start of drinking was made on Shmini–Atzeret, the end was on Shabat–Breishit at night, everyone had to bring his roasted meal into the Shtibel. It happened once that a certain miser worshipper declined from taking part, or that he was prevented by his wife. Then three young men were delegated to his house; his wife concealed the meat in a trunk and she sat down on it. Then the ‘delegates’ took a teapot of hot water and poured there under. She jumped down with a cry, and the roasted meal was taken with a parade into the Shtibel.

The Alexander Shtibel was one of the nicest and most respectable Shtiblech in Skarzysko. Recalling now to my mind the weekdays and holidays spent within its walls, my heart pains remembering my comrades and friends, those naively–pious Jews, lighted with the spark of belief in the Creator of the World and in the Holy Rabbi, scholars and gaons who perished in the Nazi camps in Consecration of His Holy Name.

Yukel Shamesh and Yekel Landau – both of them were among the permanent employees of the Jewish community in the townlet. By the nature of his work, Yukel was a religious functionary, while Yekel Landau was the secretary of the community, handling the secular daily affairs.

According to their outer appearance and clothing one could easy realize their nature. Yukel was a tall man, lean, bent a little, with a snow–white beard. He wore a long “kapote”, a “Yarmolke” on his head, half–covered with a Jewish fur–hat. Also Yekel Landau was a tall man, but

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a strong one, with pink cheeks, with glasses in a golden frame and wearing secular clothing. Among his functions was the collecting of community taxes from the Jewish inhabitants of Skarzysko and by his impressive appearance it seemed as if he were saying: “You should have respect, Jews. I am ‘Sekwestrator’ (Execution Officer)”. The Jews of the townlet were not used to paying their taxes from their free will and Yekel Landau knew how to find ways in order to reach their pockets.

Yukel Shamesh originated from Szydlowiec and he settled in our townlet at his old age, in the twentieth of his century. Nobody remembered him from his youth. It was well known in the townlet, that when Yukel appears in an enthusiastic mood in the streets on a regular day of the week, wearing a “kapote” of Shabat, that means that there is a wedding ceremony, or ceremony marking the completion of study of Talmudic tractate or the like. And if one noticed the lean and tall old man in a snow–night with a lantern in his hand, one could at once realize that there might have been a case of death.

Every Friday, close to start of Shabat Eve, Yukel used to escort the Rabbi and both of them used to call the attention of the shopkeepers that it was due time to close the stores. It was not an easy job, especially in autumn and in winter, when Friday was also market–day, –– the main earning day. Generally both of them managed to persuade the merchants and the dealers and upon the start of Saturday Eve, all shops were closed and locked–up, except Belorivsky's barbershop, and the prohibition proclaimed by the Rabbi to have haircut at Belorivsky's barbershop because of desecration of Sabbath did not help much. From the whole strife between the Rabbi and the barber the gentile Schlonsack was the beneficiary, and he often said jokingly, that he hardly knows with whom he should share the profits of his barbershop, either with the Rabbi or with Belorivsky.

Yukel Shamesh passed away about a fortnight after the outbreak of the second world–war and on passing away as though saying: “Gentlemen, I have finished my duty at the brink of world destruction. I attended to you for many years, inviting you to festive occasions and, in due course, I buried your dead. Now, when I reached the end, please do me a true loving kindness, upon my passing away just in time, in order to be buried according to Jewish ritual”.

In the Holy Days of the year 1942 Job rumors (rumors of horror) from the surrounding towns have reached Skarzysko. The liquidation of the Jews of Shidlovze and Suchodniow took place on Yom Kippur. We left that the noose is being tightened around our necks. But we kept on living with the illusion that nothing was going to happen to us because of the important work we were performing for the Germans, and on account of that we might avoid temporarily the expulsion; the German rulers were trying all the time to assure us safety in order to keep us calm. On the afternoon of the eve of Hoshana Raba there arrived to town peasant carts carrying about 1500 Jews of Shidlovze that worked for the S.S. and a part of those who were hiding in bunkers at the time of the liquidation. They were naked and deprived of everything having been robbed of all their possession by the Nazis. With their arrival we realized, beyond any doubt, that the Ghetto in Skarzysko was coming to its end. A few weeks prior to the liquidation of these two towns, the Germans had seized men and women and transported them in military vehicles to the Hacack camps in Skarzysko to work in the ammunition factory. There is no expression in human tongue to describe all the unbearable suffering and pain that had befallen the Jews by the hand of the Germans, Ukrainians and the Jewish supervisors. The Jews were driven out from the barracks at 4 a.m. to be counted. It lasted an hour during which they were beaten and then returned to the barracks. After a short break for coffee they filed out at 5:30 a.m. and were to stand in separate rows according to the kind of their work. Then they were counted again by the Gruppenfuhrer and the Jewish Capos headed by the gruesome Eisenberg. The ones that were late he used to beat with his truncheon on the head and kick with his boots. Up to the final liquidation of the Jewish Ghetto in Skarzysko they used to send the corpses of murdered and tortured Jews to town, and Reb Yechiel Feldman used to bury them on the Jewish cemetery, even providing them with shrouds made of linen taken from his own store.

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Two days prior to the liquidation of the Jews of Skarzysko an announcement was made at the Hassak that those who wanted to return home or left themselves too weak to work, shall present themselves in order to be released immediately. There was no scarcity of those willing to take advantage of that opportunity which came up to about 100 men. Those were separated, their working boots were taken away, they were stripped of their clothing and given old worn and ragged cloths and shoes and concentrated in two barracks under a heavy guard. On the day of the deportation of the Jews of Skarzysko they were taken out of the barracks and brought over to the evacuation place. On the way the Germans were constantly shooting at the marching Jews. All that road of torture, a distance of 2 kilometers between the barracks and town was sown with corpses of murdered Jews. The ones that remained alive after this massacre were joined to the Jews of Skarzysko. On the eve of Hoshana Raba it was certain, beyond any doubt, to all the Ghetto–inhabitants that this was their last night. They shared their dwellings with the newly arrived Jews of Shidlovze. Everyone was preparing bundles of articles of vital importance and put on as many cloths as possible.

No human fantasy could picture the horrors of that dreadful night. Early in the morning at 4 o'clock the Jewish population was awakened by the Jewish police (as though anybody was able to sleep that night). They were told to leave their houses within half an hour, pick up their indispensable belongings and assemble on the big place near the house of Shaul Pfepper; they were warned that whoever will be found hiding will be shot on the spot. At five a.m. all the houses were abandoned and the Ghetto was immediately surrounded by the Gestapo, the Lithuanian and the Polish Police. At the concentration place they were grouped in lines of five. The Lithuanians inspected the lines and took away everything of value: rings, earrings and even a nice pair of shoes or boots. All the time there was shots heard from the Ghetto. Thus were shot pregnant women in their beds, sick people lodged at the hospital, on the synagogue premises and all those found hiding. Among the first victims was Shaul Kaner with his wife and four children that were found hiding in the cellar of Mendel Feldman's house. Many gentiles kept on bringing to the square Jewish children for whom they had been well paid in order to hide them and save their lives. We were standing on that place until 9 in the morning until the arrival of an auto filled with Gestapo's officers from the headquarters of Radom.

From the house of Ichiel Feldman a table was brought and two Gestapo officers jumped on it announcing that nothing bad would happen to us. The people will be segregated according to their age: the younger ones will be sent to the “Hasak” ammunition works and the older ones will be given easier work.

We were standing and awaiting our fate, a scene which I'll never forget. I was standing in line with my wife Chancia holding our three year old child, in her arms. A short distance behind me was standing then notables of the town, holding each other by hand: Reb Meishke Weinberg, Schiee Feldman, Fishel Danziger, his son Chaim Leib and Yerachmiel Feldman. Finally the craftsman of the ammunition works came accompanied by the others of the Gestapo and announced that all those selected for the Hasak should pass to the left, the rest should remain in their places.

When it came to my turn the craftsman turned to the Gestapo officer saying: “This Jew is useful, we'll need him”. Then I heard the order: “Jew, turn left” I said: “My wife is also a very efficient worker”. At that the officer's face reddened and he shouted at me in an inhuman voice and hit murderously on my head with his truncheon. Blood began running on my face and clothes. On seeing this, my wife told me: “You go to the Hasak and we will divide our legacy. I am taking the little child with me and you'll take care of our big daughter in the camp.” (Our older daughter was transferred to the Hasak two weeks earlier). After 20 years of our mutual life we now parted and cried bitterly.

Then began the march to the Hasak. All the road, from the concentration place to the camp was sown with murdered Jews, men and women, those who were deceived by promise to be sent home. All those Jews who remained standing on the deportation place were loaded in wagons for cattle that were locked and sealed and transported direct to Tremblinka.

Thus the Jews of Skarzysko were liquidated together with the remnants of the Jews from the Ghettos of Shidlovze and Suchodniow.

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Two destitute women used to be frequent visitors of my mother. They were the blind Beila Danziger and the widow of the first shtetil–rabbi, Reb Sholem Arieh Rabinowitz, commonly known as the “Rebitzin”.

For the reason that Beila was blind, it was my duty to escort her home every time, since I had been first permitted to walk alone unaccompanied by adults. On our way Beila did not forget to instruct me to come and take her to our house on the date she had invited herself for the next visit. I was trying to shun her invitations, but my mother always remembered to ask for the next date that Beila had made with me.

Beila had every conceivable sickness in the world. I remember her drinking tea without sugar, eating cookies with no salt or oil and complaining always of headache, belly and body pains.

The Rebitizin also was a sick person, but self–possessed and modest. My father paid her respect because she was the granddaughter of the “Holy Jew” of Phische. There were rumors of her being insane. We children pitied her, perhaps for the respect paid her by our parents. She used to be sitting silently for a long time, but on us it did not make any impression of abnormality but of a self–concentrated person. She had big, blue, bulging eyes. After a long silence she would sigh as if recalling a sorrowful event, or as an expression of discontentment. My mother then knew it was the time of serving her a glass of tea. After tea the Rebitzin used to start her conversation with the usual preface, that she is the daughter of the “Elder of Shidlovze” and that the “Elder of Shidlovze” was the grandson of Reb Yerachmiel, who was the son of the “Holy Jew” of Phische, Reb Yaakov Itschak. After this preamble she began stories of wonders and miracles of the pious men (Tsadikim), the off–springs of the Holy Jew. The stories were many and of various kind. Also her story on the origin of our family was repeated again and again in the same tune of voice and manner, typical of an old sickly woman. From those stories, repeated at each visit, I have learnt of the descent of my family. As it turned out: my grandfather was a native of Shidlovze and one of the household at her father's house. The reason for this was that Meyer, the father of my grandfather Pinchas, was born the same day as Reb Meyer, the grandson of the “Holy Jew”, and they both. Luminary scholars, did not last long. My orphaned grandfather Pinchas then was brought up under the care and patronage of the Rebitzin's old father. Thereafter the Rebitzin switched over to her personal life and opened her heart to my mother on her shortcomings and complaining of her husband, the late First Rabbi of Shidlovze who had left her a young childless widow. For this reason the community leaders and “gaboyim” are conspiring and discriminating against her and allotted her a ridiculous pension. It is only by miracle, for the merit of her pious parents, it seems, is she able to maintain her existence. Actually, she feels that their blessings are having their influence upon her kitchen and cooking utensils, especially on Saturdays and holidays. After having emptied her spiritual burden she was leaving us and walking with heavy steps along the street, enveloped in her stained overcoat.

A frequent visitor was also Shmuel Yankl, the cobbler. Every year for Yom Kippur he used to travel to the Rabbi of Vonchotsk, who resided in Radom. Reb Yosele was one of the off–springs of the “Holy Jew” that my father used to be one of his admirers. Upon his return he used to come to our house and spend a lot of time with my father in solitude, describing to him the impressions of his visit with their spiritual leader. Both were sitting and extolling the wonders and miracles of the pious men of the Pshische dynasty.

Shmuel Yankl was not a scholar of the ways of “Nardahi”, but was talented with a sensitive and exquisite soul and his admiration for his rabbi and “chasiduth” was very great. He used to treat his friends to a pinch of snuff on Saturdays. A story was related of him that once the “Gvir” (rich man) of the townlet met him. Known for his poor generosity, he turned to Shmuel Yankl and said: “Shmuel Yankl, I will give you one hundred zloty that you should sell me the privilege of treating snuff on Saturdays”. Shmuel Yankl got angry and retorted: “Not for all the treasure in the world”. Perhaps it might have been only a joke on the part of the “gvir”, but for Shmuel Yankl it was a temptation and challenge. Truly he was a man of meager means, but he would not concede on something considered as a good deed (Mitzve) and without blinking an eye he repudiated the mighty and wealthy man.

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My father–in–law Reb Eliezer Berkowith (my younger son is called by his name) was a learned Jew, erudite in Mishna and Poskim, and also conversant in foreign languages – Polish, Russian and German. For the Jews of Skarzysko he acted like a legal adviser, free of charge, and they used to call on him and consult him both in matters of religious questions as well as in their litigations at the official courts. He was familiar with life and its problems, reading a newspaper every day, not abstaining even from secular literature in Hebrew and Yiddish. I remember that once I remarked to him jokingly – how is it possible that a Jew like him would read “forbidden and blemished” books, he answered me in jocular vein, that as from the age of thirty, one is allowed to learn even Cabbala, because at an older age one does not get spoilt from reading of books…

The years of the First World War changed the viewpoint of the majority of the Jewish youth in the towns and townlets of Poland and in that respect also the house of Reb Eliezer was not different. The aspirations and aims of the youngsters were far from the course of thinking of the old generation, and at Reb Eliezer's flat there was quite often taking place the debates on the Jewish people and impatience for the end… When his daughter Chaya – my wife – and myself were preparing to leave for Eretz Israel that was a subject for lengthy discussions within the family, as a result of which I got aware of the personality of my father–in–law and of his attitude. He was intelligent, a scholar and most progressive among the people of his community. He spoke laconically, from the aspect of “a word is silver, silence is gold”, and just by his few words he influenced the whole surroundings.

My real close relations with him were during his staying with us in Eretz Israel, since he arrived in spring 1935 until the end of Ab 1938, at Raanana colony. It should be remembered that Raanana at that time was some kind of “the end of the world”. The old road from Tel Aviv to Petach Tikva ended at the precincts of Raanana, and the paving thereof up to Hadera was started just in 1937, due to the disturbances that broke out in 1936. Till then one had to go to Hadera, Zichron Yaakov and Jezreel Valley through the inimical towns of Nablus and Jenin. The only connection with the ‘wide world’ (that means Tel Aviv) was an old bus driven from Raanana twice daily to the first Jewish city. There was no road within the colony and the main road (just as it is now) in length of 4 kilometers were dunes, and for communication within the colony between the deep dunes, which were very hot in summer and full of mud in winter, donkeys were used.

We had been living in Raanana for three years when Reb Eliezer joined us. I remember that when we returned from Haifa port by train which passed between Hadera and Pardess Hanna en route to Rosh Haayin, my father–in–law was observing the landscape through the train window and hearing the ticket collector calling the names of the old colonies, he used to prove to us his knowledge of their history, telling us what he had read about their establishment and settlement in the papers of “Hazfira” and “Hamelitz”…

The period of his stay with us in Raanana was the period of the stormy “Horas” danced until sunrise at the barrack of the Workers' House after a day of hard labor or after a day of unemployment and hunger. Old Reb Eliezer was hurled into that pioneering atmosphere, close before the disturbances of 1936. He used to observe intelligently his surroundings and following up the events in the colony and country at large. Just he, who was so zealous for his religion and belief, knew how to appreciate the aims of the youth and he used to be the youth's counsel for defense in his company of old people in the colony, and he used to call their attention to the saying: “one who lives in Eretz Israel has a G–d, and one who lives abroad – as if he had not G–d”, so let's leave the judgment on the youth in the hands of the Judge of the whole world…”.

Much to our regret he was not buried in the Holy Land. As a result of an injury which he got in his youth, he suffered from bon tuberculosis and the doctors declined from operating him due to his old age. They advised to send him to Poland – to the climate he was used to. Three weeks after his return to his son Shmuel in Lublin, he passed away at the age of 72 on the 11th Elul 5698 (1938). Let his memory be blessed forever.

Yerachmiel Shier writes:

I made the acquaintance of Reb Eliezer Berkowitz during my childhood. He and his son–in–law Yechiel Halperin were among the worshippers of the Shtibel of Reb Mendel Feldman. Both of them were scholars, gentle and clean. Reb Eliezer used to be punctual for the worships on

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Saturdays and holidays even on days of heavy rains, snow and frost. I recall to my mind that we, the children, used always to follow up those coming to the Shtibel and bet between us as to those coming in time and those coming late.

Reb Eliezer was highly respected among the Shtibel worshippers, and in the intermissions between the prayers or at the end thereof, he used to talk with my father, with his son–in–law Yechiel and with his other befriended people on different subjects, or Torah, Hassidim, politics and general affairs and he was always attentively listened to. I did not understand most of his words, but I enjoyed his smiling face and pleasant diction. It happened that his lovely twin–granddaughters entered the Shtibel (the daughters of Reb Yechiel Halperin) and that vexed us, the boys, seeing ‘females’ entering a praying–house which is designated for males. We wanted to slight them, but we were prevented from doing it because they were closely attached to their father–in–law. Besides we withdrew also in view of their beauty and tiny clothing, so that it was just left to us to enjoy their appearance among bearded Jews wearing black capotes …

Reb Eliezer's son–in–law, Yechiel Halperin, resembled his father–in–law by his manners and conduct. At first he used to come to worship during the week days, Saturdays and holidays. In the course of time, however, his appearance shrank to Saturdays and holidays only. He was a learned man and his approach to life was more modern than that of his father–in–law. He was imbued with a deep love of Jewish culture and although he was a “free thinker” (according to the conception of the townlet people), he used to discuss with his father–in–law and other Shtibel worshippers on subjects of Torah and Hassidism.

I remember from my childhood the cordial relations between Reb Eliezer and Reb Yechiel and I see before my eyes their images as one appearance, –– a father and son–in–law whose souls were attached to each other.

Chaim Dovid was an infants' teacher. Among his pupils were children from the age of 4 till the age of 7–8. There was no boy in the townlet who did not pass his “Cheder”, including the writer of these lines. Generally he taught the alphabet and “Ivre”, namely to read the praying book. Besides, he taught to write in Yiddish. The term of studies depended on the perception and health condition of the children. In winter only strong and sound children used to study, those who had winter shoe wear and clothing.

Chaim Dovid was not specially strict and passionate, as “not a passionate man can teach”, but also the pupils were not shamefaced. In order to maintain discipline, he used to keep a whip (“kantchik”) at the right side of a blackboard with big letters of the alphabet. While calling one of the pupils to the blackboard, he used to put the whip as if he were saying: “you should learn, boy, otherwise your punishment is before your eyes”. The children of ages of 4–7 “tasted” very seldom that whip, but the bigger children used to be whipped by him occasionally. When one of the mothers came and complained that her son's buttocks turned red from the blows, the “Rebe” used to answer her: “you have the choice not to send your “jewel” to my “Cheder” (as he was aware that as an infants' teacher he was the only one of good reputation in this field) and he further assured her, that he did it through the trousers…

Chaim Dovid was by nature a good–hearted man, fond of children, but teaching of Torah accompanied by whipping was a customary and conventional teaching system at that time.

Chaim Dovid taught children of rich families as well as of the poorer class. He did not use to fix the tuition fee and he accepted payment according to the parents' ability. Consequently, the teaching profession was not enough for making a living and therefore he occupied himself also in bookbinding. Besides, his wife was a peddler in haberdashery and used to participate in fairs. There was always a smell of yeast in the “Cheder” – the glue of the bookbinding, mixed up with the smell of herring, which was Chaim Dovid's constant food, even in the middle of teaching he used to take a piece, saying aloud the “Shehakol” benediction and insisting that all pupils should respond “Amen”. When he noticed any pupil looking at him when he was chewing and enjoying, he used to ask: “who wants to say the “Shehakol” benediction” and he used to distribute small pieces of the herring and smiling satisfactorily through having pleased his pupils. In his “Cheder” there was always tasty and fragrant rye bread, which he used to get from the bakery adjacent to his residence, in the same corridor of his flat. I can hardly find now as tasty food

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as that delicacy of my teacher and rabbi from my happy childhood…

From the age of 7–8 until the age of 12 the children passed to the “Cheder” of Chaim Nosn to learn Chumash, Rashi and the beginning of Talmud. According to the Polish law of obligatory education, general education was got for 7 years in the state elementary school, while the Judaic subjects were learnt in the afternoon hours.

Chaim Nosn's “Cheder” was near the old Beit Medrash in a narrow lane which was called by the Jews “the Beit Medrash lane”. His teaching was according to the method of Rabbi Yehuda Hanassi, about whom it was said that he used to respect the rich. There were very few poor children among his pupils, due to the high tuition fee he used to demand. It happened occasionally that he sent a child home for non–payment of the tuition fee in time. He was very strict concerning discipline and there was absolute quiet in his “Cheder”. He strictly cared that the children of the well–to–do people should not be hurt. As a result of such attitude, they used to annoy him, to be boisterous, failing to prepare their lessons and Chaim Nosn had heartache and was very sorry about that. The children of the middle and poorer classes were generally among his best pupils, so that it happened that he reduced their tuition fee, in order to keep the level of the “Cheder”. As stated before, he also taught a little Talmud, although he himself was not too conversant in this field.

The “Chadorim” of Chaim Dovid and Chaim Nosn were cornerstones in the education of the young generation in the townlet, and just as our national poet Bialik said about the Beit Medrash, that it gave strength and a high spirit, in time of distress and disaster to jump into the bonfire and die as a martyr with the prayer of “Shma Israel” on the lips…

The ammunition plant “HASAG” (initials of Hugo Schneider Gewerke A.G.) – a huge labor camp of an area of several kilometers, was divided into three departments: “A” Works and “C” Works. The worst of them was the C–Works, because the material handled there was grenade explosive – a poison which consumed the heart, and still worse was the handling of picrine – a discharge material for rifle bullets which caused meagerness and a yellow color to the body. Eighty percent of those who handled picrine perished at that work.

Unfortunately, also I and my daughter happened to work at that plant. We were arranged, however, at a better work, thanks to two Polish foremen – my ex–customers in Skarzysko, who supported us with bread and other food and to whom I ceded part of my property.

At that plant there also worked the Rabbis of Otwock and Palenice, a ritual butcher from Mezritz and several rabbis who were transferred from Plashow camp near Krakow – they were together eight rabbis. I helped them to the best of my ability, for instance – with a soup–addition to dinner. I worked in a group employed in the fields around the camp as well as in the inspects of the camp itself. Those works were considered among the best in the camp. Among others there were several girls of Skarzysko, who were allowed to go outside the camp. Thus, they could get food for payment, so that they were not dependent on the hunger–soup of the camp. Coming back from my work into the barrack, I used to bring with me the soup–can and distributed it among the rabbis. It happened once that an S.S. man met the ritual butcher of Mezritz (who survived and lives now in America) holding a soup–can. He was forced to disclose to him the secret of the additional portion and he led him to me in the barrack. The S.S. man glanced at me with murderous eyes and hit me with his fist in my face, so that I was wholly stained with blood. But he still was not satisfied therewith. Later on he came again and escorted me to the camp–depot, he brought with him four Poles, put me on a long bench, ordering two of the Poles to hold my head and arms, and the other – to hold my legs, then he hit my body with the edge of a board. “I must peck up his lungs!” he shouted. How long he dashed me I don't know, because after the second blow I fainted. He ordered to pour on me a bucket of water and to take me into the camp hospital, where I was confined to bed for four weeks and remained for life with a defect in my spine.

Shortly before Pesach the Rabbis delegated to me several people asking to help them, so that they should not be compelled to eat “chametz” in Pesach. They were ready to be satisfied just with boiled water during the eight days of Pesach, if they would be provided with a few roasted potatoes. I did not give them any definite answer,

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because at the moment I did not see any prospect. The matter, however, disturbed my rest and I got the idea of arranging a “Seder” night in the camp for the eight rabbis, but in a way that I should not be punished, as it was the case with the ritual butch of Mezritz. I understood that my plan should come to the knowledge of the camp head Mrs. Markowitz, because the least activity without her consent was out of the question. She put an eye everywhere and especially she had an evil eye on me still from prewar time, due to my business affairs with her husband. Besides, I had to find in the camp financial means in order to buy wheat flour to bake Matzot, and beetroot for a “borsht” soup, to be used for the “four glasses” at the Seder.

I happened from time to time to work at the fields of Mlodziawy village, which belonged to “Hasag” camp. The site was called in Polish “Orrod” (garden). We were employed here under the supervision of a Polish foreman, whom we used to give a proper bribe, in consideration where of he allowed the farmers to sell to us bread and cereals against highly exaggerated prices. We spent there rather more time on eating than on work and afterwards we had also profited from the commodities which we brought into the camp. I bought from them strawberries and brought them as a present to the little daughter of Mrs. Markowitz who was at the camp together with her, and later on I brought mushrooms and the early cucumbers from the field. In such a way I made peace with her and as soon as I noticed a change in her attitude to me, I started realizing my plan.

I succeeded to collect money from people, whose religious feelings were known to me. I approached my acquaintances – the two Polish foremen and they brought to me five kilograms of wheat flour, several kilos of millet and beetroots. I appealed then to Mrs. Markowitz to let me arrange a “Seder” eve for the Rabbis of the camp, and that Pfeffer – the chief of the Jewish camp police – be instructed not to disturb us at night, when everybody will be asleep, to bake Matzot in the big ovens which heated the barracks.

Under the inhuman circumstances prevailing at the camp, the baking of Matzot was a very hard and complicated task. We took several bottles, rinsed them thoroughly and they were used by us as rollers. From the blacksmith's workshop we brought three clean iron sheets and rolled the yeast thereon. We made a hole in each rolled surface and conducted a wire through the holes, put into the oven and kept as long as the Matzot were properly baked. The preparing of the Matzot took three nights. One day before Pesach, the children of Skarzysko who worked together with me, scoured two cans, out of which the dinner soup was distributed. One was used for cooking the millet and the other – for the beetroots, as a substitute of the “four glasses” of the “Seder”, and the cooked millet to be as a dessert drink.

Three days before Pesach I approached Pfeffer asking him to allow me to arrange the Seder at one of the extremely located barracks which was almost unoccupied, and that the Jewish policemen who will watch at that night, be instructed to caution us in case the Gestapo would appear at the camp.

On the day before Pesach, as soon as I came back from my work and not having even managed to wash myself, a camp–policeman entered my barrack and ordered me to report immediately before the camp commander. I was very much afraid – who knows if my whole work has not been in vain?… When I reported before Mrs. Markowitz at the room of the house where she lived, she glanced at me sharply, while sitting in an arm chair, with a cigarette in her hand, and she started investigating me with a strict voice: “You little Levindl, I want to know, how did you bring into the camp all those commodities”. I stood before her just as before the chief of Gestapo and gave her a detailed report. At last a sarcastic smile appeared on her face: “I wanted to get convinced whether you did not make a private business there from, and now I see that you acted according to Jewish conscience. I'll see to it that everything should pass in order and I am ready to extend to you a helping hand”. I asked her to free two Rabbis who were about to work at the Seder night, and she did accordingly. At the last moment she sent me sixty eggs. One who happened to be at “C” Works can realize what such a gift was like. Also Shmuel Maksel, the husband of Fela Schlak of Skarzysko, who worked at the smith's workshop and traded with the Poles, bought for us 90 eggs.

The “Seder” started at 10 o'clock. There were already brought into the barrack two tables, covered with white paper, and the same also for the Matzot, instead of Matza napkins. At lit candles there glittered the thoroughly scoured tins of condensed milk serving as glasses, into which the beetroot ‘borsht’ was poured instead of wine, but not full, so that it should be enough for the cooked millet. They were filled up, however, with the tears of those present… Each of the Rabbis took put a handwritten long sheet of paper on which the “Hagada” verses were written down.

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A holy silence prevailed all around, when the “four questions” were asked. It seems that even G–d could not find an answer not only to the questions of the “Hagada”, but to all those questions that every one bore in his painful heart, questions which have remained unanswered till the present… The candles scorched, just as the souls of the thousands of tortured Jews in the horrible “Hasag” camp, and a still cry accompanied each benediction and verse of the “Hagada”.

As soon as the saying of “Hagada” was finished, the people sat at the other table, at which there were eight tins with cooked millet, with red ‘borsht’ poured thereon, and a dish with boiled eggs. There was no shortage of “Maror” (bitterness), there was plenty of it in the whole camp…

The “feast” passed in a hurry, and in the middle of the after–meal prayer, a Jewish policeman came in haste and cautioned that the Gestapo people were standing at the camp gate. We put out the candles, cleaned up the tables, climbed up the benches and feigned sleeping.

Thus the Pesach eve of the year 1943 came to an end at the “Hasag” camp.

G–d Bless Our sisters and brothers From dawn, till dusk From ditches, from holes, Behind walls They fight, faithfully Successfully To create A Jewish State. G–d Bless them Stand beside And guide To a proud Jewish Life. Give them power To liberate The Jewish people From Hitler hate. G–d bless our sisters and brothers for their alertness, for their faith, for you, for me, for us, G–d Bless.

In the vicinity of the “Urzendnica” colony, which was set up for the officials of the ammunition factory, there was a very nice building with a big school for the children and other accommodations. When the Germans occupied Poland, the Gestapo expropriated the building and turned it into a torturing place with inquisition basements. That was the place where the Polish intelligentsia was brought, namely: physicians, lawyers, teachers and so on, if there was the slightest suspicion of Polish nationalism or of antagonistic views against the German regime. In that building they were tortured by inquisitionary methods and then sent under a strong watch to “C” Works to perform hard labor, until they were ultimately murdered and cremated.

About 30 Jews worked at that house. They were, however, isolated from everybody, so that they should not be able to disclose what was going on there and what was their job. For the same reason, the Germans used to murder those workers after a short period, and replace them by others. Therefore the workers tried to escape at night, when they had the feeling that their turn was near at hand… Often, especially early in the morning, or when a wind was blowing from that side, one could hardly bear the offensive smells of the cremated bodies. We, of course, were aware of all that, but to come near that place was extremely dangerous…

At that time – March 1942, there was still a ghetto and Judenrat in Skarzysko. On a certain afternoon an order was given by the Gestapo that the “Verdunkelungs–Meister” (blackout–master) be sent immediately, apparently to cover the windows with black cloth, so that the cries of the tortured persons should not be heard outside. The Judenrat appointed me and another ten Jews to perform that job.

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When the messenger of the Judenrat came to report to me, where I should go, I felt a trembling of my whole body, also my wife and children broke into a cry; as besides that from the ghetto till the school there was a distance of three kilometers, one was exposed there to different dangers: There were monstrous sadists whose symbol was a “death's skull” on the hats and epaulettes. For the least non–obedience one was shot to death. Arriving on the spot, they escorted immediately with whip lashings the other Jews to a certain work, and me and another upholsterer – Reuven Malinowski, they escorted below in the inquisition cells to show the work to be performed. While descending the stairs, we heard the groaning of the tortured that were lying in painful positions, bound with heavy chains on the necks to rings on the floor, which suppressed their heads. While walking we were cautioned by the Germans: “should you disclose what you have seen here, your end will be like theirs, you should not talk with them, nor even wink to each other. Make the blackout with black rolls!”

In the middle of the work I was taken aside by one of the Gestapo men, who said to me quietly: “Go quickly to the Judenrat in the city and bring me six pairs of big woolen socks” and while looking at the watch he added: “you should be back within a hundred minutes with the socks and report to me on the 2^nd floor No. 5, but nobody should notice what you are bringing to me”. He took me to the sentry and told them to let me pass, because there is a shortage of blackout paper and I must bring it.

I went out without any documents and in case I am caught outside the ghetto, every policeman would be entitled to shoot me to death. After having made about 20 steps I heard a shouting voice: “stand up”. That was a Gestapo ma. Then he enquired me: “what did my comrade talk with you”? I was not at a loss and answered him bravely: “He sent me to the Judenrat to tell them that the chairman should be there at the time when he will come.” He trusted my words and let me go. I ran, the deadly fear carried me in haste. With my last powers I arrived at the Judenrat and there was a meeting just at that moment. The chairman, the dentist Malinger, interrupted the meeting and handed over the letter to Chaim Liberman. The latter stood up and asked that every participant should hasten to another merchant and find out the socks in order to bring them as soon as possible. There is a danger of life to Eliezer Levin for whom we are responsible, because we sent him to that work. It did not take long and the packet was in my hand. I took the opportunity to ask them to give a message to my family so that they should not be worried, and I ran back with my mission. Out of fear not to be late, I ran with all my strength. In the meantime it grew dark and a cool sweat wrapped me up. When I approached the sentry – holding a black carbon paper in my hand – I was allowed to go in, but out of confusion I forgot where I should go and I went down to the basements. Again I heard the horrible cries of the tortured persons. I drew back quickly and ascended the 2nd floor, knocked at room No. 5 and there was no answer. I was in despair, what should I do now? Suddenly I heard many voices from another room (later on it was ascertained that it was a secret meeting of the chief district command with the local Gestapo officers). I stood at the door and was afraid to open it, who knows what is going on there? What excuse should I say? It gets late and I must go back to town. In a sudden flash I took courage – as a result of despair – I knocked and opened the door. I was standing against a score of murderous eyes ready to swallow me up. I kept the roll paper in my hand saying that I was looking for the man who sent me to bring the paper. All of them were silent, just the Gestapo man stood up and said: “yes, that's right. I sent him and I have to show him what he still has to do”. Both of us went out, I handed him over the packet and he clapped on my shoulder saying: “yes, you did it well”, then he gave me two packets of cigarettes and a piece of bacon and escorted me to the sentry. When I asked him for a pass–certificate, because it was by far after the closing hour – he said: “if you are being stopped, they should ring me up”.

I went along the railway – not the usual route – until I finally arrived in the ghetto. They had already received an order that the Jewish police should escort me home. Seeing me at home, the whole family embraced me weeping, because they were sure that something terrible had happened to me.

That was another miracle experienced by me, in which I felt Divine Providence fluttering over me and protecting me…

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The “Young Pioneer” Union in Poland was originally a non–party youth organization aligned with the labor movement in Palestine but not actually affiliated to any Zionist party. Its aim was to prepare Jewish youth for ‘fulfillment’, that is to say, for emigration to Palestine, building up the country and living in a communal framework on a kibbutz; learning the Hebrew language and participating in Zionist fund–raising activities.

It is not the easiest of accomplishments to set up a branch of the “Young Pioneer” movement in Skarzysko for the Jewish community of the town was only in its infancy and tended to have a religious outlook. Nevertheless in 1929 a group was established. In that year disturbances broke out in Palestine while in Poland it was the year in which the first glimmerings of economic crisis were seen. The new generation of Jewish youth sought a different type of employment from that which their parents had known; they wanted something more productive than the traditional commerce and brokering. Almost nothing of this sort was available to them in the town. The government armaments factory was closed to Jews as was the railway works located at the main junction. Caught in a stranglehold, trapped in a closed circle from which there was no escape – that was the way we felt. The boys and girls from the kibbutz training farm in near–by Sochdaniub presented a sharp contrast to our way of life because no type of work was below their dignity and because in their strong determination to live in Palestine they were prepared to make every sacrifice.

Those responsible for establishing a branch of the “Young Pioneer” movement in the town were Mordechai Fisch, Yechiel Zaluta, Fischel Binstock and the writer. The most talented and intelligent was Mordechai Fisch. His father was an Orthodox man, a shopkeeper selling whitewash, but his son left his religious studies and registered for courses with “Tur” – affiliated with “P.P.S.” (an organization for spreading culture and education among the working classes, attached to the Polish Labor Party). The members of the kibbutz training farm helped us to get things organized and put us in touch with the central committees of the movement which was in Warsaw. At the beginning there were some forty members between the ages of 18 and 20. I was the youngest – seventeen years old. In a short while we had a hundred members. We arranged a modest program of cultural activities – lectures given by Mordechai Fisch, who analyzed the political problems of the Jews all over the world, gave a commentary on some important article which had been published in the press or explained things from the world of culture or science. For the most part we held our meetings on Saturday afternoons or evenings but sometimes we meet during the week too.

In 1933, when I came back from a period at the training farm we made an all–out effort and hired a roomy flat with a large hall, situated near the railway line. There we set up a library whose subscribers were drawn from members of our movement and sympathizers. Writing about all these things cannot convey the realities of the time. It is hard to give an adequate description of the barriers we had to overcome, the effort required from each and every one of us. Starting the library was accomplished through donations members made from their wages, and there was not always sufficient money coming in from the membership fees to cover the rent for the premises.

All the books in the library were in Yiddish. It fell to the lot of four or five of our group to keep check on the books, to find the money to buy new books and, twice a week, to act as librarians. In 1931 we started a Hebrew course. The group was led by a teacher who happened to have come to the town. He also wrote poems in Hebrew. In addition to the Hebrew course he also helped us to organize a Hebrew kindergarten. Shmuel Friedman's daughter was the kindergarten teacher. The Hebrew lessons cost only a nominal sum – a few grusch. The courses continued until 1932.

Skarzysko had a Zionist organization but it did not really make itself felt. The only active member

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was Yaakov Landau and it can be said that it was he who introduced Zionism to the city. Over the years he had made his living as the Secretary of the Jewish Community. He was assisted in his work (especially in raising funds for Israel through the Jewish National F und and the Jewish Foundation Fund) by members of our organization – Yerachhmiel Liberbaum, Yoel Rubinstein, Yitschak Berl Goldbart and the writer of these lines. We also worked for the KPAI – the Palestine Workers' Fund. Further, we helped members of the kibbutz training–farm in Sochdaniub to find employment in the town. When the iron works were not doing so well because of labor problems I asked Mendel Feldman's son to take on some of the young pioneers instead of the Polish workers who had left. He took five but they did not succeed in holding down the jobs.

In the year 1932–1933 members who had reached the age of twenty or more began to leave for a period of training at a kibbutz training farm. The first one to take part was Yerachmiel Wertheim. After that, Yerachmiel Liberbaum left to a kibbutz near Wolin, his sister Rivka to Konin, Moshe Abramovitz to the kibbutz training centre “Tel Chai” while I went to Kibbutz Borochov in Lodz.

In 1933 I returned home in order to prepare for my emigration to Israel and once again I took an active part in the “Young Pioneer” movement in Skarzysko. One day in 1935 some policemen came to our house in the early part of the evening and asked us to accompany them to our meeting place. On the way they also picked up Yerachmiel Liberbaum for as far as the police were concerned we were held responsible for everything to do with the Movement. In our presence they conducted a thorough search but found nothing of a suspicious nature. Even so they confiscated two books, one by Karl Marx and the other by Enri Brebis, and the red flag which was the symbol of the Movement. The following day they summoned me again, made another search and informed me that henceforth the halo would be closed. I went to the District Superintendent of Security and asked for an explanation. The answer I got was this “We know that you are really Zionists but according to our books you are listed as “Lefties'”.

The shutting of our meeting place was a hard blow for us. We were forced to organize ourselves like some sort of underground cell. All our records and literature were distributed among the members and in order to call a meeting we had to contact everyone separately. In this fashion the continued existence of the “Young Pioneers” was assured and in spite of everything our members even showed interest in local affairs. 1936 was the year of the local elections in Skarzysko and we took a definite stand in support of the P.P.S. candidates. We told all our friends to vote for them because, in our opinion they constituted a bulwark against the rising tide of reactionary and anti–Semitic opinion personified by the “Endkim” (National Democrats) and the “Sanzia” parties. In doing this we came out openly against the Jewish middle–classes of the town. As we understood this we were thus acting in the interests of our class, not in the interests of the national minority group to which we belonged. In this our policy was an extension of the action we had taken in the elections for the Zionist Congress when members of our organization had voted for the Israel Workers' League and when they went around raising funds they conducted a propaganda campaign against Bourgeois Zionists. . . meanwhile the P.P.S. obtained a majority and Mr. Bobovski was elected mayor. With his election to office it became clear just how correct our judgment had been. The new mayor carried out his duties with complete fairness towards every section of the community. He helped the needy without any regard to religion or race. The local authorities carried out a program of welfare and educational work among the less well–to–do. As hoped, the socialist majority on the town council constituted a useful barrier against the rising anti–semitism.

In 1935 I again left the city for a period of training at the Kibbutz farm, returning home in 1937. I acquiesced to a suggestion to leave for Israel as an illegal immigrant and so I spent my time at home, awaiting the call. Every week I re–

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ceived a circular telling me to be prepared, and this state of things continued until May 11th, 1938 when I received a telegram from Warsaw on a Friday telling me that on the Saturday we would be leaving the capital by train. That day my father was at the Rabbi's house. I went over there and told him about the forthcoming journey on the Sabbath. When the Rabbi began to get annoyed, my father quieted him by saying “The Zionists don't do things just for the sake of doing them – if they have decided to travel on the Sabbath there must be a reason for it.” In contrast to others my father held a sympathetic attitude towards Zionism, always seeing the good sides about it. He was only sorry that he would not be able to accompany me on my way. When I got to Warsaw I was told that the departure had been fixed for a Saturday because of the British Secret Agents who kept a watchful eye on illegal immigration routes. On a Saturday there would be no Jews at the railway station who might give away the destination of the 65 young men.

We travelled in closed wagons until we reached the border with Czechoslovakia. From Czechoslovakia we travelled to Hungary and from there to Yugoslavia. We spent one day in Belgrade and continue to Greece. From Greece we boarded a small boat and thus reached the coast of the Holy Land.

The members of the “Young Pioneer” organization in Skarzysko who reached Israel were Yerachmiel Wertheim, Efraim Freitag–Dror, Azriel Zilberberg, Rivka Lieberbaum, Moshe Abramovitz and myself.

The “Young Pioneer” movement was active in Poland until the outbreak of the Second World War. The fate of its members in the holocaust was that of the rest of the Skarzysko Jewish community. The enthusiasms of their youth, their fervent aspirations to live as a nation in our homeland were turned to dust and ashes.

I celebrated my eleventh birthday a few days before the outbreak of the Second World War. I remember very clearly all the discussions in which people tried to prove to each other that it wouldn't come to war, but the Jews were living under no illusions and kept a worried eye on the ever–surging waves of anti–Semitism, full of despair as to what the future held for them.

And it was war. The German planes which attacked most of the towns of Poland attacked Skarzysko too. In the first raid relatively little damage was caused but the Jews, afraid that the Germans would attack the munitions factory “Hasag” which was located in the town, fled the city in droves. It turned out that their fears were groundless – the enemy did not want to destroy such a potentially useful factory, they wanted to capture it while it was still operational.

That was the way it worked out – the whole town fell into German hands. After it had been taken, the Jews began to make their way back. Chaos reigned for two days and all sorts of thugs ran riot and plundered all over the town. Jewish property was confiscated. The Germans immediately began to introduce “order.” Every day saw new notices posted regarding restrictions that were being placed on the Jews. Within a short time the abduction of Jews for forced labor accompanied by threats and harsh treatment became a regular occurrence. Consequently the Jews became afraid to be seen in the streets, the German soldiers went wild, fell on Jews who were praying and shaved their beards. This seemed to be one of the favorite hobbies of these louts. One of their victims was my grandfather, Nachum Yankelevitz (of blessed memory) and to this day I remember vividly how he looked without his beard.

Sometime during 1940 an order was posted concerning the establishment of a ghetto. Jews who lived in the area outside that reserved for the

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ghetto were given a short time to tie up their businesses and then to transfer themselves to the area within the ghetto, from which they would be permitted to leave only with a special exit permit. A Jewish Council (Judenrat) was established in the ghetto, and also a Jewish Police force whose job it was to keep order, to carry out the instructions of the Germans, and to supervise the exit permits. In 1941 Jews began to come to the ghetto from other towns, towns from which they had escaped when the Germans had sent other Jews to the death camps. Their arrival strengthened the feeling that Jews would be driven out of Skarzysko too.

Order followed order. In the year nineteen forty–something the “Judenrat” were ordered to supply two hundred Jews to work at “Hasag.” After great deliberation the Judenrat published a list of the names of the Jews who had been assigned to the factory. There was a great deal of bad feeling and bitterness, and it was felt that there had been quite clear discrimination in the choice that had been made. To no avail – the Germans sent them all off to hard labor, in terrible conditions and under continual threats. The families of those who had been taken got themselves organized and demanded that others should take their place after a short time. Their request was not granted.

Meanwhile news began to arrive concerning the annihilation of Jewish communities in the surrounding area and this put the town into a state of panic. A few Jews sought refuge amongst their Christian acquaintances; some obtained Aryan identification papers at great cost, others discarded the external appearance of a Jew and learned to conduct themselves as Gentiles. The rich Jews were prepared to pay any price for even a slim chance of survival.

I was fortunate – a special piece of luck came my way. My parents, thanks to the right connections and a considerable sum of money, managed to get me work in Zeork – an electric station which was outside the ghetto and which was regarded as being safe. Saying goodbye to my family heartrending. A sea of tears flowed from my eyes and the sound of our crying must have reached the heavens themselves. We all dedicated ourselves to a single aim – to stay alive.

Very soon I grew up and learned to stand on my own two feet as my parents had taught me. I made a resolution to do my utmost to keep myself alive so that I would be able to tell the world what the murderous Germans did to us.

One day – I don't remember when–the word spread in Zeork, that the ghetto was surrounded by the Ukrainian gendarmerie and S.S. troops. This was a sure sign that an “Action” had begun. Later I heard from eye–witnesses that the Jews were ordered to assemble in an empty lot (the “Diment”) and as a result panic ensued. When they had got themselves into lines, the Germans went by and classified the Jews into two groups: one to be annihilated and the other to work in “Hasag.” Families were cruelly split. My brother Abraham (“Ohma”) of blessed memory was also separated from our parents because he was so young. Terrible crying and wailing filled the air. Those who were left standing in the lot saw how their parents, brothers, sisters and children were led off to the railway station by the Gendarmes and the S.S. armed with automatic weapons, who hurried them on their way. At the station, the Germans used terrible force to push their victims into the wagons and seal them for the journey whose destination would be death. The unfortunate victims were sealed in their trains but the sound of their weeping could still be heard.

And so the Jews of our town were transported to Treblinka, the death camp in which so many of Poland's Jews met their fate.

A group of Jewish workers took the place of a group of Gentile laborers at “Hasag” and another group of Jews who had already been working in “Hasag” were taken out of the factory and joined the Jews destined for Treblinka. These Jews were completely exhausted, physically, mentally and psychologically.

After a few days I was informed that my parents were to be found in “Werken A.” My joy knew no bounds. A flame of hope was kindled; perhaps I would see my parents again.

Meanwhile a rumor went round in “Zeork”

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that a group of laborers was to be transferred to “Hasag.” This was regarded by a majority as a tragedy, as if the earth had been swept from under their feet. Only I was happy, for there I would be reunited with my family. Of my own free will I volunteered for “Hasag Werken A.” Within a few days there was a group of twenty candidates and gendarmes transferred the group to “Hasag.” There I met my parents again. Emotion ran very high. One member of the family was missing, my little brother Avraham, of blessed memory. My parents told me of the terrible sufferings they had experienced. Our family circle had been narrowed as many had been slaughtered.

In “Hasag” I was assigned to packing grenades. Work was very hard. More than once I was severely beaten and death was always hovering above my head. From my parents' strength and encouragement I derived hope for a better future.

The years passed. From lack of alternative I accustomed myself to the rigors of the work and the awful conditions. Sometimes it seemed that there could be no end to it all.

In the meanwhile Hitler's victories in battle were on the decline and his troops began to withdraw. These events had their effect on the atmosphere in the camp. It was from the Germans themselves t hat we had the first hints that the German army had retreated from Russia and Poland. After years of utter despair a passion for living was reborn. Many were convinced that it would not be long before we would see the collapse of Germany. At the same time however we began to witness the systematic closure of the “Hasag” plant and the transportation of the Jews to Germany. This gave rise to suspicions and fears. Because of all these developments I was once again forced to take leave of my mother as she was sent to Leipzig while my father and I were sent to Buchenwald. While we were at the “Reimsdorf” camp my father suddenly became ill. They sent him back to Buchenwald and from that day on I never saw him again.

Once again I was alone and in distress. Day and night I tried to think of a way out.

Finally I decided to try to make my escape from the camp. I was busy planning when, where and how when to my surprise I was approached by a boy whom I had known for a few days. He told me that he was planning an escape and suggested that I might join him. Without much delay I agreed to his plan. We fixed the date on which we would escape, at night time, when the allied planes made their regular “visit” to the area to drop bombs. Our camp was located in a thick forest which made it difficult for the Americans to find their targets. Time ticked by at its usual rate. The night seemed eternal. From afar we made out the noise of the planes on their way to the camp. Suddenly we heard the siren, the signal that the time for our escape had arrived. The sounds of the explosions helped to divert the attention of the camp guards and very soon we found ourselves in the forest outside the camp. To my great surprise I discovered that my companion in flight was an Aryan, and he had taken me to be an Aryan too. It seemed that my facial expression and shaven head made me look like an Aryan, and this would help me to escape from the many enemies that I would meet. After great hesitation I revealed my true identity to my companion and watched his reaction. To my delight, the boy's reaction was positive and I felt as if a heavy weight had been removed. He instructed me in the ways of the Gentile Church on Sundays, when to kneel, how to cross myself, what to do when the priest came into the church, etc.

We continued on our way and within a few days we reached the Czech town of Marienenberg. Luck was on our side and we found work with a Czech farmer. I stayed there until the end of the war. During the entire period I was an Aryan, to all intend and purposes. I had to resort to all sorts of tricks so that the farmer would not guess the truth, for I had no papers to prove my Christian–Polish origins. The danger was very great and I had to be constantly on my guard and play my difficult part well, for I could not afford to fail even once. My companion helped me a great deal. He took my place when I was supposed to report to the authorities. This was not too difficult because there was a certain resemblance between us.

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I never felt that the farmer was at all suspicious and this gave me great encouragement.

One day the farmer came to my room and told me that the war was coming to an end and he wanted to know what my attitude towards him would be after the war. He asked me to sign a declaration to the effect that I had no claims against him and that his conduct towards me had been fair. This made me certain that the end of the war really was at hand. Full of excitement I left my room and ran into the streets in the hope that I would hear some good news – but in vain.

After a few days the Germans began to leave the town and their place was taken by the Soviets. After so many years of trouble and sorrow, my happiness knew no bounds. Huge notices about the German Surrender appeared in the streets. I seemed to swell with feelings of exultation, inner satisfaction and a real sense of freedom. It was a great day for me. All of a sudden I was overcome with a feeling of terrible loneliness. It needed great strength to adjust to the new situation. The town seemed to change from day to day. A stream of refugees began to grown and flow in all directions. Then came the time when I had to take leave of my friend. Once again I was alone forced to wage my own war of self–preservation. I was filled with doubts about what to do and where to go. Finally I decided that I would try to make my way back to my home town and see if any of my family had survived. Many things happened to me on the way to the Polish border but on the 15^th of May 1945 I found myself once again in my home–town Skarzysko. News of my arrival spread fast. When I was told that my mother was still alive, I wept with joy, but my tears were mingled with tears of sorrow as I mourned the death of my father, brother and many of those who were dear to us.

Anti–Semitism was still to be felt in Skarzysko. For the first time in my life I thought of emigrating to Israel. This desire grew daily and I finally managed to get in touch with a Kibbutz in Kelc where young Jews were prepared for this. My stay there is etched deep in my memory and it left its mark on everything I did afterwards. It was a period of great awakening for the boys and girls who tried to prepare themselves for work ad communal life on a kibbutz in Israel.

After the cruel massacre of some of the survivors who were living in our town I decided to leave the country. I said goodbye to my mother and vowed that I would never again set foot on Polish soil. My mother stayed a little while longer in order to make some arrangements and then she joined me at the transfer point in Germany. We arrived in Israel in 1949 along with other survivors of the Holocaust. After the initial difficult period I adapted myself to conditions in Israel and became part and parcel of the life. Despite the hard years I made a cast–iron decision that my tears of wandering were over and that Israel was now my home. Here I would live, in the land of my forefathers, and I would work for this land and its continued existence.

In the beginning of the 1950's the immigrants the immigrants from Skarzysko developed group consciousness and a strong bond was formed between the old–timers and the new arrivals. By 1952 a Skarzysko Immigrant Association was set up. The main driving force was supplied by Mr. Elazar Levin who continues to take an active part at the present time.

I know that each and every one of us appreciates this organization and its many activities. One of the tasks which we set ourselves was to publish this memorial volume to describe the German annihilation of the Skarzysko Jewish Community.

With the kind permission of the editors I will use the pages of this book to perpetuate the memory of my father Yitschak Oratch, my brother Abraham, my grandfather Nachum Yankelevitz and my grandmother Leah, and all the other members of my mother's and father's families who were killed.

May their names be remembered forever!

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In the month of May 1945 I was liberated from Mathausen concentration camp and made my way back to my home town of Skarzysko. I reached the railway station at one o'clock in the morning. I somehow wedged myself into a corner and waited for dawn as I was scared to go home in the dead of night.

At four o'clock in the morning, with the first rays of light, I made tracks for the far side of town. I made my descent from the bridge at Ilzecka Street and then turned off into Stanshitza Street. I met on-one at all until I got to Limnovsky Street where I met a railway workman and inquired as to the whereabouts of the police station. He replied that the police station was to be found in The Third of May Street, in Shmuel Bricks' house. I made my way there. I showed them my papers, declared myself to be a citizen of the town and asked if I would be able to leave my meager belongings with them. I received a crude answer to the effect that the police station was not a lost-luggage department. When I asked if any of the town's Jewish community had been saved I was informed that this was not the Town Information Office.

After such a reception I made my exit – the tears sticking in my throat. My feet failed me. Where would I go now? Suddenly I saw a Gentile woman coming in my direction – one of my former customers. I stopped her and asked her if she recognized me. She looked at me from all sides then opened her eyes wide and asked in surprise: “Are you also alive?” That was my second welcome.

She informed me that the other Jews who had come back to the town were all living in one of three houses – with Yoel Naptscharz, near the 'Linika'; at Chaim Greenberg's or at Leibush Levin's, where she said that I would be able to find Ya'akov and Bracha Puterman. The good woman allowed me to leave my belongings in her care and six o'clock in the morning found me knocking on the door of Leibush Levin's house. A woman's voice called out from the other side: “Who's that knocking?” And I called back: “It's me, Laizer Levin.” Bracha Puterman's voice shouted back to me: “Get away with you, Jew, Laizer Levin's long been gone from the land of the living and we're not expecting him back yet-a-while.” I stood there speechless for several minutes and thought to myself – Good Lord of the Universe, what's going on here; haven't I had to put up with enough trials and tribulations?

From the other side of the door I hear the voice of their son Yankele telling his mother that he is convince that “his voice sounds just like Laizer Levin's – I'm going to open the door” – that's what he says, but his mother stops him. Finally, after a long argument with the mother, little Yankele opened the door to me and immediately he saw me standing he let out a yell: “I TOLD you it was Laizer Levin, mother!”

I went into the room without saying a word and fell in a faint at their feet. By the time I came round, gathered by my bed were almost all the old-timers from Skarzysko who were living in their house and Dr. Kuchen who had been summoned to my aid.

Also among this group was Mrs. Weishandler, chairman of a Jewish Committee which had been set up a little while earlier by survivors of Czenstochowa and other concentration camps. Once I had got my strength back they answered all my questions and told me that my daughter was living with an old school friend in Lodz. They also explained to me why they had thought I was dead. People who had made the three-week journey in the same “transport” as I had saw that I had been transferred to the wagon in which the dead were transported. This was quite true – but in fact I wasn't dead and in that wagon I had found a little bag of sugar which kept alive for three whole days until we reached the death camp known as “Gauzen II” in Austria. There chaos reigned – the Kapos had all fled for their lives already and abandoned us. The following day – April 5^th, 1945, the first of the American troops entered that camp and saved us from certain death.

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The two Horowitz sisters set out for Lodz to tell my daughter that her father had been saved. The next morning a car rolled up from Lodz carrying people from Skarzysko and among them my daughter. It is impossible to describe the first moment of our meeting – tears of joy and sorrow mingled in our eyes. When Shmulik Maskell from Plotsk (who had married Pilah Shlack after the Liberation – she being the woman with whom my daughter was staying) saw the state of health I was in, he pulled his wallet from his pocket and said to the doctor: “Save Levin; money's no problem; in doing this for him I'm simply repaying him what I owe him from my survival in “Ward C”. Nevertheless Dr. Kuchen refused to take any money for the medical attention.

I needed penicillin shots and although at that time it was difficult if not impossible to get hold of it, Dr. Kuchen managed to get some from the “Dzevint” which began to operate among Jewish survivors, and due to this doctor was able to get me back on my feet.

In the month of Elul another group returned from the camps – Itzi Warshover, Shmuel Milet, Chaim Shipman, Shammai Warshover (Zelig's son) and Handel Feldman. The social life of the remnants of the Skarzysko community centered round a two-roomed apartment which Itzi Warshover had made a great effort to acquire, his own house being full of Poles – Gentiles. It was here that we prayed on the High Holydays, where Avraham Yitschak Zimmler lived (Elishevitz' father-in-law who had come to Skarzysko about to get divorced), Chaim Shipman (now in Israel), Hirshanfus (the tinsmith's son-in-law), the writer and Mrs. Lautaube, a woman from Warsaw who had been in “Warc C” and after the Liberation was employed in the Jewish Kitchen in our town which had been set up in Eliashewitz' house. We lived in a sort of commune. Chaim Shipman was the one who led the prayers, acted as the shochet (ritual slaughterer), did the shopping and all the cooking. We made our living from people, mainly Jews, who came through the town by train from the Soviet Union. The carriages would wait many houses at the Skarzysko Junction, and trade soon developed – all sorts of goods changed hands, especially those which could themselves be used as currency – gold, dollars, “red” Rubles, German Marks. The railway workers would buy from the arriving passengers and resell to the Jews who would continue the trade by selling in Lodz. Itzi Warshover was the richest of all from all this. As many of the railway workers have been mixed up with him before the war, he became their chief agent. He himself did not travel to Lodz but resolved to those who did -- the Jews of Skarzysko who had survived.

A gentile woman by the name of Helena Jezimkowa, who had owned a shop near the new market where many Jews had hidden their belongings during the Occupation, thought up a devilish plan for murdering Itzi and his neighbors.

One winter's evening when Itzi was out for a walk with the Lautaube woman in the Third of May Street near the “Linaika”, he felt that he was being followed by two men dressed in civilian clothes. Fearing the darkness which was falling over the town, he quickened his step but he only got as far as Yoel Naptscharz' house when they stopped him by threatening him that they were armed, introduced themselves as agents of the O.B. (Secret Service) and ordered him to enter the house so that they could check whether he was carrying any foreign currency on his person. Itzi didn't lose control of the situation and in entering the ground floor of the house leaned heavily on one of the doors so that it gave way. And as he stood there in the doorway of some Gentile's house he began to take Polish money from his pocket, thus proving to the “O.B. agents” that their suspicions were groundless. As the Poles who lived there knew Itzi personally began to mix in, the bandits made their exit threatening him that one day they'd get hold of him again.

This incident spread a shadow of fear over the small Jewish community of the town. In the evenings they did not dare to go out in the streets. The majority went to take shelter in Lodz, for Lodz was the only town in Poland where Jews were safe and did not live in fear of death.

My daughter came from Lodz to visit me and

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Persuaded me to leave Itzi's apartment and go to live in Laibush Levin's hotel (known as the “Paupers' Pension) until she could find us a suitable place to live.

A few days after the attack on Itzi and the Lautaube woman they came to me with Shmuel Milet and Chaim Shipman in connection with a deal. Shmuel Milet had a large piece of shoe leather which he wanted to sell. (This piece afterwards served as evidence against the murderers.) After the deal was successfully completed we all had a drink (Milet was very fond of a drop of the hard stuff) when I suddenly realized that it was already ten o'clock at night. I suggested to my guests that they would be better advised not to go home with all the money but to stay the night in the hotel instead. Only Chaim Shipman took my advice because the next morning he was supposed to be going to Lodz. The rest left for Itzi Warshover's apartment.

The following morning the son of Ya'akov Eikana the butcher (who lived in Yoel Naptscharz house which was near where Itzi lived) came running to us, accompanied by a woman by the name of Sara Auratz, Ya'akov Shipman and Smerl Bomstein, who told us the terrible news that Itzi Warshover, Shmuel Milet, the Lautaube woman, Zelig Warshover's son and Iyzik Blacharz had all been murdered during the night. They had been delivered from the German death camps only to fall into the hands of Polish murderers.

It is hard to describe what a terrible impact the news of the murder made. Mrs. Weishandler – the head of the Mutual Aid Fund who had stayed in Skarzisk unlike most of the others who had taken refuge in Lodz – and the author went to the police to report the dreadful massacre. At the police station they informed us that a guard had been there and that the murder was simply a revenge for an attempt to take back by force a Jewish child who had been hidden with a Christian family during the war, and that we as representatives of the Jewish community would have to sign a statement to that effect. We of course strongly refused to sign any sort of documents.

Most of the survivors left the city. Other than myself there remained: Mrs. Weishandler, Hirschel Velovski and his son Yamma, Moshe Zivliner's son Moshe and his daughter Chava, and Manya Blacharavitz.

We sent Manya to the Jewish Committee of the District Capital, Kalz, to ask them to help us in making arrangement for the burial of the five victims. They refused us their help on the motivation that they could not put their own lives in danger.

Mrs. Weishandler and I were summoned by the Authorities to identify the five bodies. We sent up to the apartment accompanied by two members of the police force and there we were confronted by a terrible sight. The victims were lying under the table in a pool of congealed blood. Mrs. Weishandler was completely overcome by this so by myself I had to separate the bodies and lay them out face-up. When we got back to the police-station the Superintendent informed us that if we did not bury them the police would arrange to dispose of the bodies.

At that time the leaders of the “P.P.S.” party were to be found in the town. We turned to them for assistance and they agreed to come to our aid on condition that we would agree to make the funeral a political demonstration against anti-Semitic nationalist principles. We declined their offer because we wanted to bury our dead according to the Jewish custom and did not want a funeral which would be conducted according to the ritual that was unknown to us. From the town council we received five sheets, five blankets, boards and a cart with wood which we would be able to kindle on top of the snow in order to thaw the frozen ground. They also gave us three prisoners to dig the communal grave. Jamma Velovski, Laibel Bergman and Laibel Zivliner came to the cemetery, bring with them two bottles of Polish brandy. Together with Herschel Velovski I succeeded in obtaining two trucks; one for the corpses and one for those attending the burial. We phoned the Superintendent of the Secret Service (O.B.) n Kalz – a Jew known as Captain Albert – and asked him to send us an armed escort because of the dangerous situation in which we were living. By his command, the funeral cortege was escorted by five plain-clothes agents.

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After the mass grave had been covered with clods of earth I looked around to see if we had a “minyan,” the required ten Jews needed to say “Kaddish.” Immediately one of the agents whispered in my ear: “Say the Kaddish, we're all Jews!” And so I recited the first and last Kaddish which would be said over the souls of the five martyrs.

The O.B. in Kalz ordered an investigation. They were helped in their investigation by a Miss Koppel who had worked in Skarzysko before the war in a hardware shop belonging to a relative of hers, Berele Koppel. She had come back from Russia and in the course of her work in trading had come into contact with Helene Jezimkowa, the gentile woman. A couple of days before the massacre she happened to pass by this woman's shop and saw her sitting at a table with the local Superintendent of the police force and one of his men. In passing she paid attention to the fact that the gentile woman pointed in her direction. This seemed very suspicious. In consequence she quickened her step and after walking a few blocks she went into the house of a Christian woman of her acquaintance. The woman took her in and hid her and then went outside herself to make sure that the door was securely closed. Immediately two of the local police stopped us and asked her if she hadn't seen a “little Jew girl” going into any of the houses. She told them that she had seen her running away in the other direction.

Captain Albert, the Jewish officer from the O.B. in Kalz came to Skarzysko and asked the local representative of the Ministry of Security for their results of the investigation. When it turned out that almost nothing had been done to discover the murderers, Captain Albert informed them that he would reveal their identity through the investigations of his own men.

That night Captain Albert took the cartridge cases and went to the home of the local police superintendent. The superintendent was on duty at the railway station and was therefore not at home. Captain Albert searched the cellar and among the provisions stored there he found expensive bales of cloth and jewelry and in addition to this he found a revolver which took bullets the same size as the cartridge cases. Captain Albert hurried down to the railway station, arrested the superintendent and had him sent to Kalz. Following an urgent summons he sent to the O.B. in Kalz two officers and several of their men came to Skarzysko and went to the house of the gentile, Helena Jezimkowa. Despite fierce resistance on her part, she was arrested. The local policeman who had been an accomplice to the crime also fell into the hands of the authorities who caught him as he was about to rob a peasant who came from the village of Skarzysko-Koshtscilana.

On the morning following the arrest of the police superintendent and the Jezimkowa woman, Captain Albert invited me, Mrs. Weishandel (the head of the Jewish Committee) and Chaim Shipman – all of who lived in Itzi Washover's apartment – to be present during the search of the criminals' belongings so that we could identify property belonging to the victims of the massacre.

The search of the Jezimkowa woman's home revealed a great deal of property belonging to a Skarzysko Jew who had deposited it with her for safe-keeping and furs and other expensive coats from a ready-made clothing shop. All this was confiscated, loaded onto trucks and driven away. Nothing at all from Itzi's present apartment was to be found there, but almost at the last minute, just before we left the apartment I noticed something suspicious about the kitchen cabinet which appeared to have been moved from its correct position.

We moved the cabinet and discovered a door which opened onto a dark room. To our great surprise we found a considerable amount of good and personal belongings belonging to the victims of the massacre. I myself found part of the piece of leather which I and Chaim Shipman had purchased from Shmuel Milet the night before he was murdered. It seemed that the murderers had divided it up equally amongst themselves, for the other two pieces were found amongst the property belonging to the superintendent and the policemen, in whose house we also found two prayer-shawls and two suits belonging to Itzi Warshover.

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As it was considered risky to keep them in prison in Kalz, the murderers were transferred to Lodz.

Eventually the blood-thirsty murderers were condemned to death by the District Court of Justice in Lodz.

All three were hanged in Lodge prison.

May all Israel's enemies perish thus!

Unlike the more established Polish communities our town was not crowned by a synagogue which would serve as a House of Prayer on weekdays, Sabbaths and Holidays and as a place of assembly for the community for every festive occasion. Skarzysko had only a 'Beit Midrash', a House of Prayer and bible-Study which was set up in 1934 only after stormy disputes between the followers of two rival factions each of which grouped around their leader and teacher who hailed from the town of Stashow; and the “Mendel” group led by Reb Motke Morgenstern. This last was appointed as the official religious leader thanks to the fact that his father-in-law Mendel Feldman was the leading figure in the community.

The raft between these two rival factions declined over the five years between 1929 and 1934 which were years of flourishing development for the Jewish inhabitants of the town. The hardworking and the enterprising found it easy to make a living and so Jews from the neighboring towns and villages were drawn to the town. The Hasidim among them founded 'shtiebelech' in Skarzysko in keeping with the tradition of the Rebbe who held in his own court. There was 'Alexander Shtibel', the 'Sochdeniuber Stiebel', the 'Gerer Shtiebel' and the 'Wyncutska Shtiebel'. The 'Amshinover Shtiebel' was in Reb Mendel Feldman's house and the 'Stashover Shtiebel' congregated at Shmuel Brick's. This splitting up of the community among the tiny Houses of Prayer, although to the liking of the different Hassidic groups, nevertheless heightened the necessity for a central representative House of Prayer.

There was an old Beit Midrash in an alley off Ilzatsca Street, near the railway station (Waczel), which had been built with the beginning of the period of Jewish settlement which concentrated itself in the area around the railway station. The building was in a ramshackle state of despair, hardly more than a hut about to collapse; rainwater dripped through the leaking roof onto the broken benches and trickled to the rickety floor. Next to the Beit Midrash stood the Bath-House – the 'Mikve' – in an equally dilapidated state. The Mikve was located by a spring whose clear waters flowed into the ritual pool which was reached by descending a flight of musty moss-covered uneven stairs, lit only by a smoking paraffin lamp. Whoever went down those stairs to fulfill his commandment of immersion would make a vow that once his ablutions had been completed and he had once again successfully reached the top and seen the light of day shining through the doorway, he would thank the Lord for delivering him from danger.

As already stated because of the ferment surrounding the office of Rabbi to the community the funds of the community were not put towards building a new central Prayer House. A site was however available in the heart of the town, donated by a local inhabitant Reb Binyamin Ffeiffer. This gentleman was one of the 'Opposition' – that is, he wanted to see the Stashower Rebbe as the Community Rabbi. Because of this the 'Mendelites' did not rush to lend their support to the establishment of the new Beit Midrash on a site donated by the leader of their opponents. The state of the old Beit Midrash was such that the town authorities threatened to close the old building. Frequently passing beggars would lay themselves down in there during prayers, for there was no other hostelry in the town. Once a terry thing happened that one of the vagrants hanged himself in the Beit Midrash with a towel and the police then closed it completely for three days. This event exerted a strong influence on the leaders of the community and they at last began to

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plan the construction of a new Beit Midrash. Meanwhile the quarrel between the two schools subsided, the storm blew over and the elected representatives of the community declared the available site suitable for construction, especially as it was located near the local bath-house.

The action commenced in 1932 when a Building Committee was set up. Committee members were: Moishe Zilberman, Yoel Eizenberg, Nathan Kogan, Yechezkiel Chmelnizki and Yechiel Goldblum, and the Chair was taken by Shlomo Rozner. The community decided to raise funds from all the inhabitants and to this end imposed a compulsory charge on each household in accordance with the state of their finances; of course, people were none too pleased at the thought of having to open their purse strings. The months went by and building drew to a standstill. It was therefore decided that those who had refused to make a donation would be forbidden to pray in their shtiebelech on Hoshana Rabba and instead allowed entry only to the old Beit Midrash; in dong this the day chosen was both Holyday and weekday, a day which was a day of prayer but one which money could be collected – but this plan was to no avail. Threatening to pass on their names to the local representatives of the Polish Exchequer had more effect, but even so the money collected did not suffice to permit the building to be completed. Only when a declaration was made that seats would be available when enough capital raised for the work to be finished.

In 1936 the Jews of Skarzysko celebrated the consecration of the new House of Prayer and Bible-Study. For the three years prior to the outbreak of the Second World War the wardens of the community were elected from among the local dignitaries The 'Shamash' was Berl Feldman who was also in charge of the Mikveh but even the two incomes together were not enough to provide for his family. On the High Holydays Moshe and Yechezkiel Hashochet filled the position of Reader.

The importance of the contribution made by the leader of the community Yechiel Weinberg in bringing the building to its completion must be emphasized. Although the work was in fact started during his predecessor's (Yoel Eizenberg's) period of office the main driving force for the project was supplied by Reb Yechiel. The building was not particularly large but it represented a considerable achievement for the 600 local Jewish families to build it with their own resources. Yechiel Weinberg's personally has been described in the article on 'Agudat Yisrael' so that here only passing mention will be made of the fact that together with his contemporaries – his brother-in-law Joseph Hamenker, Yehoshua Weisbrodt, Meir Sheier – he laid the foundations for many projects: -- the 'Beit Yaakov' School, the 'Chorev' Seminary and of course the scheme for decorating the walls of the Beit Midrash and its ladies' gallery. The outbreak of World War II and the entry of the Nazi troops into our town put an end to his plans as the public buildings and institutions he had erected by him and his predecessors were completely destroyed.

Twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays, a market was held in our town. With first light the peasants' carts began to make their way towards the city. On the carts rode tailors, cobblers, hat-makers – in short, simple craftsmen bound for Ilzecka Street and The Third of May Street.

When it rained, or when it was freezing cold, they still came – men and women – dressed in their furs and wrapped up in scarves or pieces of torn cloth above which only the eyes could be seen. Their eyes were the only proof that these bundles were alive.

If the Holy One Blessed Be He was merciful to his people Israel the weather settled down, the snow or rain would cease – that was all to the good. But if – may G–d forbid that it should happen that way – it did not turn out to be nice weather then it was not worth opening up the parcels and all the journey had been wasted.

The only place in which it was possible to dry off after the rain or to warm bones frozen to the

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marrow was in the house of Rabbi Eliyahu Bricks and his good wife Baila who lived by the new market. Here there was a lot of commotion, like in a tavern, but the Jewish peddlers feel comfortable there, as if they were in their own homes.

When the weather was good and trade was brisk they would swap all sorts of stories, like those about the wily tricks of the tailors: when fitting some unfortunate farmer for a jacket or winter coat they would unobtrusively slip a pair of warm gloves into the pocket. When the farmer discovered the “errors” that had been made he would not bother to haggle over the price but would quickly pay whatever was asked of him. There were plenty of other stories about the bargaining tactics of these tailor-peddlers, who generally had the upper hand in their dealings.

At the horse market, in addition to the Gentile horse dealers and peasants from the villages of the region, were two brothers – Avraham and Yankel Shabshacks – from the town of Shidlovska. This pair was always tipsy although never really drunk. The peasants were absolutely terrified of them.

The following story is commonly related about these brothers:

Once they bought two horses which limped from some peasant, although they paid him the full price for them. The peasant pocketed the cash and quickly left the market. In the public house belonging to a Jew by the name of Yankel Schaptschok the peasant boasted about how he had cheated the two 'Yiddelech' by selling them unsound horses as good animals. When this anecdote reached the ears of the Shabshacks brothers they burst into laughter. “Yes,” said Yankel, “the story is quite true – but what that 'cleaver' peasant doesn't know is that the two 100 zloty notes that we gave him were forged”…

That is how the Jews lived and how they made their living, always troubled and under stress, every day of the week in a different town. Children were born and grew up with almost no parental supervision because mother only had two free days in the week – Saturdays and Sundays – and on Sunday evening it was time to start packing the wares so as to be ready to leave for market as day dawned on the Monday.

That was the way they lived, through the good times and the bad, for many generations… until the cursed Hitler came and put an end to a way of life that had endured for generations, butchering the people with terrible cruelty…

May the Lord avenge their blood!

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