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It happened on the tenth day of Ab in the year 1942.

It fell on a Friday. Despite the fact that it was strictly forbidden to pray, the Jews nevertheless assembled in the cellars and recited the kinot (prayers of lamentation). The destruction of two thousand years ago was mourned, as was the present destruction…

After the night of Tisha B'Av, when day began to break, the Gestapo, along with Ukrainian and Lithuanian police surrounded the ghetto and began to shoot into it from all sides. Jews ran to hide in the pits they had dug under the houses, which they had previously prepared [for this purpose], but the Germans, with the assistance of the local police, extracted the Jews from these pits, led them to the Schulhof and to Blizniansky's fields, and killed them with rifle bullets, machine guns and hand grenades. They set the ghetto on fire.

The yelling and screaming could be heard for miles.

A portion of these were buried in three grave sites, and the others lie in six grave sites in Blizniansky's fields.

A small number had the opportunity to save themselves and exact revenge from these murderers.

The escapees joined up with the partisans, and two weeks after the slaughter, a group entered Dereczin on a dark night and killed the entire garrison, captured weapons and ammunition, burned the houses in which the police were stationed, and returned to the forest…

It is with a pain in my heart that I undertake to describe that terrifying period in which my town, Dereczin, that town of such prominent Jewish connections for many generations, was destroyed and everything in it was lost.

Fear and terror dominated the Jews of Dereczin in 1941 when the German airplanes bombed the town. Our hearts told us that terrifying days were drawing close, especially for us Jews. And the terror was not in vain – we could not begin to conceive or imagine how pathetic and gruesome our condition would become.

Who among us does not remember that Friday, when the Germans entered Dereczin?! Who does not recall the scene in front of the church, when the town was aflame, people were treated like discarded rubbish, and one saw death staring at you before your eyes!? A miracle occurred then, we remained alive – to a life of oppression and fear of death.

A short time later, the succession of decrees was initiated. Every time a new decree – yellow badges, Jews driven together, from the very young to very old into the market square, hungry and frightened to death, driven to work with beatings and force. It was

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not once that a bullet from a revolver proved to be the solution to that hateful terrible life.

From time to time, alarming reports would circulate that the Germans were shooting entire Jewish populations in surrounding cities and towns, killing innocent people only because they were Jewish.

The High Holydays arrived, and they were truly Days of Awe that year. On the first day of Sukkot, the able bodied Jews were driven to another district. For the entire day, people thought of the worst and most terrifying of fates for them. A panic gripped the town, especially after parents, brothers and sisters, waited in vain for the return of their near ones at the usual hour after the end of the day's forced labor, – they did not return at the appointed time. It was only later that they returned, exhausted and broken with a mournful tale: under beatings and force, they had worked strenuously to dig out an enormous pit…

We wanted to dispel the suspicion we had, and we conjured up all sorts of reasons that the Germans would want to have such a pit, but the pit remained fixed in everyone's mind. Jews went about like bare shadows, pale and frightened. Death would be preferable to a life of this kind. But almost on purpose, normal death didn't come in those days, as if it had been decreed from heaven that we would be brought down by these murderous hands.

In the meantime, the ghetto was erected in Dereczin. The overcrowding, filth and hunger were terrible. There were also acts of murder on the part of the police. One of the first victims in those days was Moshe Kostellyansky (Moshe der Kvossnik). He entered the premises of a Christian to obtain some potatoes. A policeman saw this, and got involved in the matter, implying that there were people ill with typhus in Moshe's house, and that Moshe should be shot in order that no one would catch the typhus from him. It was no sooner said than done – the innocent Jew was taken away to the cemetery and shot there. Subsequently, no one survived from that entire family.

Jews at that time already perceived how terrifying and unfortunate their situation was. Everyone thought to themselves, surely the end is right at hand.

The news that the Slonim ghetto was going up in flames hit everyone like a thunderbolt. It didn't require much discussion, young and old alike understood the implications: thousands of Jews are losing their lives and are being asphyxiated in their hideaways in the Sanctification of the Name. It is not possible to describe the feelings of the Jews of Dereczin during those days.

That terrible hour finally arrived for the Jews of Dereczin as well. The surviving Derecziners will never forget that Tisha B'Av and the Tenth of Ab of that tragic summer. It seems to me that those days were more terrifying than the days of the destruction of the First Temple.

Pious Jews fasted, and prayed for deliverance and a downfall for the Germans, but it came out exactly the opposite. In our hearts, everyone felt as if the air was laden with gunpowder. So many Germans and police came driving into town that the Jews understood that something terrible was going to happen.

My dear father, Reb Zelik Friedman returned home from synagogue after Tisha B'Av prayers and a whole day's fasting, but we were so broken that no one could open their mouths to eat. I said to my father: “Dear father, the fate of the Jews of Dereczin is sealed.” To which my father answered: “Deliverance from the Lord can come in the blink of an eye.” But the deliverance did not come.

My father was then seventy-six years old, but he looked like a man of fifty, and not only once did he receive murderous blows as he was driven to work.

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The following morning after Tisha B'Av, while it was still dark, the police surrounded the ghetto. They were dressed in black, and joked with one another: “Give me a watch, and I will let you live,” and other such bloody taunts.

My husband and I with our three young children were in the home of Leibeh Zuber, outside of the ghetto. The Stukalsky family was with us.

They dragged my dear mother out of the house and beat her murderously, to which she screamed Shema Yisrael! Vikhna Stukalsky rebuked the policeman with the words: “Why do you beat me? I helped to bring you up!”

Pesha Feldman, Chaya & Zvi Dworetsky with their two children, were among the first victims. With us were Cherneh Stukalsky, Leizer & Izzy Stukalsky with their wives and children, and Avigdor Ratner.

We saved ourselves by a miracle. We ducked into a small cellar under the kitchen. When they had shot everyone, one policeman asked a second one if he had thoroughly searched the entire house. The other said that he had been into the cellar and up into the attic. Meanwhile, we sat stuffed together in this small cellar.

A couple of hours later, my small children wanted to eat. Having no choice, I had to crawl on all fours, so I would not be spotted through the windows, to see if I could find something for the children to eat.

We sat in that cellar from Friday before dawn, until Saturday night. These two days seemed like an eternity to us, and I can never forget those terrifying two days.

On Saturday night, my dear sister, ע”ה came to us. She had been certain that we had all been shot, because it was nearly impossible to conceal my small children.

She wept and shouted, and the sound of our reply from the depths of the little cellar nearly made her faint. My sister and her husband moved the large bundles away, that the Germans had prepared for themselves.

We also met up with my dear father, but he shouted to us: “Dear children, run! Save yourselves! I will not go with you. I have lived together with your mother for 54 years, and we must now both be together…”

On Sunday, my father and his two sisters were shot to death. My father met a violent end. He was ordered to dig himself a grave. Out of sheer terror, he could not control his own hands, and he was beaten murderously, until they knocked his brains out. He was buried on the Schulhof, near the Hiltzener Bet HaMidrash, where he had spent his life.

To this day I remember the blessings he bestowed upon us in connection with our flight into the forest, and the tears with which he bestowed those blessings. Accompanied by his blessings and tears, we made our way through the fields and entered the forest directly.

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I came to know the town of Dereczin under overly tragic circumstances, having arrived there already a refugee (Beznayets in the local [Russian] language) for more than a year and a half. I left the capitol city of Warsaw in 1939. In crossing over to the Russian side, to a town called Zarembi Kuchylna, I suffered pursuit and oppression that words do not have the power to describe. I was in the town of Zarembi with my wife and her parents for over two and a half years until I was able to get a Russian passport with 'paragraph no. 11' that was known – this section according to a standing order, because as refugees, we were not permitted to live close to the German border. Once again we took up the staff of the wanderer, and went at least 100 km to Slonim and then from there to Dereczin.

In Dereczin, we moved into the abandoned quarters of the Boltotz family, on Soytska Street. It is hard to describe this place as a residence, since all that remained of it was abandoned wreckage. There were many refugees that found refuge – of one sort or another – in Dereczin. Carrying on any sort of business in the town was forbidden, and especially with our arrival, our economic condition deteriorated significantly to a low level. Over a period of time we either sold or bartered a garment or some other possession that had some value for a little bit of flour or some potatoes.

Today, after all these years, I must underscore with gratitude the selfless assistance of the Nozhnitsky family ז”ל, that lived in my neighborhood, and especially the help of their grandmother, Rivkah Weissberg, ז”ל who stood by us in our hour of need.

And so we lived this way under Soviet rule in Dereczin, hoping for the end of the war. We toyed with the hope that the Soviet Union would not remain sympathetic to the terror of the Nazi regime – but these hope dissipated rapidly in the face of the way cruel events unfolded.

The Germans reached us in 1941 at the time they opened their war against the Russians. It is superfluous to describe – as others have already done so – the 'welcome' the Germans had prepared for us when they entered Dereczin. I will simply note that the 'straw castle' in which I lived went up in flames at the sound of the first shot. Once again we were left without a roof over our heads, and with no belongings to pack, and so we turned to the synagogue that served as a sort of central refuge for those with no place to live.

News began to circulate through the town that the Germans intended to establish a ghetto in Dereczin, and everyone set about seeking refuge and making themselves a hideaway from the Germans. Rabbi Bakalchuk, ז”ל took us in under his care, along with four other refugee families in addition to his own.

And so the days past, in which hearts fluttered and ached at the news of the depredations that were ordered in other cities and towns: every day there were new decrees, killings and mass murders…

I recall that we arranged a night watch, and every night, someone would volunteer to sit at the window, keeping an eye out in the event that troubled would break out. We knew that our turn to death would come, yet there seemed nothing that we could do, everyone arranged a hiding place for that hour of extermination. Undoubtedly, many others have already told of the great pit that we dug with our own hands. A number arranged a hiding place in the cellar of the Rabbi's house, whose entrance was inside the bottom of a closet. I found an awning on the Rabbi's porch, and organized a spot for myself there. In that same spot, the Rabbi ז”ל hid his sacred texts as well as some of his own writings on the Torah.

I remember how several times Rabbi Bakalchuk ז”ל hugged me to him, put his hand around my throat and recited the biblical injunction: “and you shall erase the memory of Amalek,” and asked me to answer “Amen” afterwards. It was not only once that the Rabbi offered me a little tobacco for a

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cigarette in order to help raise my spirits.

In order to forget and suppress the terrifying happenings in our lives, the Rabbi ז”ל, who received his ordination from the well-known Yeshivah at Mir, and an outstanding Torah scholar by the name of Zuckerman ז”ל from Ostrolenka, and my father-in-law, Reb Ephraim Hoffman ז”ל, who was also an outstanding scholar – would sit and engage in dialogue over the complex arguments of the Torah and the Gemara. But it was impossible to insulate oneself from what was going on, because every day people were being murdered and entire communities were being wiped out. Once again, we attempted to console ourselves with the aid of political ideas. We would carry on discussions about the conduct of the Russians – I recall my father-in-law ז”ל accusing the Russians arguing that they were just like the Germans; I need to point out that this was at the time when exile to Siberia was running rampant through all the Jewish communities; and the Rabbi ז”ל argued forcefully against him – in what turned out afterwards to be true – that the Russians were ten times better than the Germans.

As we were sitting and discussing political issues, trying to live each minute of the hours in a day with the clear understanding that a day would soon come when we would no longer be able to argue and discuss, we heard the siren summoning us to assembly. Precisely the day after Tisha B'Av, with the break of dawn… they are going to come! Immediately a panicked stampede began to get into the hideouts and secret getaways. My neighbor argued that they would not take him to be slaughtered, and kept a knife in his pocket, and I went to the awning over the porch, from which I could see, but not be seen. And as a result I saw and witnessed with my own eyes what has been termed “the slaughter.” It is hard to describe in words the stirrings that took place when the Germans entered the ghetto. But that image is very much alive in my eyes… men, women and children, taken from places of hiding amidst shouting and cursing, pushing and beating. Those who resisted, or tried to fight back against the Germans were shot on the spot. – that is exactly what happened to my neighbor who swore that they would never slaughter him, and to Mrs. Dubinchik ז”ל, who tried to defend her life, but to no avail. They were shot trying to climb up to the roof…

…I sat in my hiding place, trembling all over like a buffeted leaf. On all sides Germans are on the prowl ready to kill, and I was afraid to even breathe lest I reveal myself. Minutes seemed to me to last forever… but the nearing sound of the voices of Germans accompanied by the local police, the Lithuanians, who were all liquored up, reminded me every second that my end was near.

I will never know from where I, and two other men and one little boy who joined me, found the nerve and strength of spirit to offer the person who found us the material that saved us from death. The police, who lusted after wealth, gave us our lives in return for the money we had in our possession.

Towards nightfall, when they finished their handiwork, the Germans shouted over the houses: “All those who remain hidden are ordered to come out! There will be no more killing!” We held back in terror, after one person who came out of hiding was immediately taken away. All his efforts at resistance were to no avail, and he fell with the words “Shema Yisrael!” loud on his lips, and his blood was added to the enormous flow of blood in the courtyard.

It is difficult to describe, especially after so many years have gone by since that day of slaughter, the details of the terrifying sights that we saw with our own eyes. We sat bent over, terrified and trembling at the edge of the roof. Hoping that no one would find us – we had nothing to lose – the only thing of value left was a gold watch and chain that I had received from my grandmother. We attempted yet again to cause the police to turn a blind eye using this gold, and as if from heaven, our hand was guided to success. As I left our hiding place, I raised my voice to a shout: “Good sirs!” – the police on guard immediately gathered around me with their rifles cocked to fire – I raised my hands and drew near them, offering them the watch and chain in

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exchange for my life and the lives of my companions who remained behind in the awning. After an argument and negotiation among them on how they would divide these spoils, they agreed to let us go, and initially we did not believe that we had saved ourselves.

It was hard for us to understand the significance of what had happened, especially since the attitudes were not particularly clear after a day like this one.

We perceived that the only path to safety was to go to the forest. The companions who were with me did not want to subject themselves to the dangers of the forest, and they decided to return to the Germans, in the hopes that it will still be possible for them to be saved. I don't know why or for what reason, but I decided it was better to flee into the woods. And that is what I did. In the woods I ran into several other people from Dereczin, who like myself, had succeeded in escaping from the slaughter.

I will tell of the bitter fate of our large family, of Shlomo Rudenstein's family, their sons, daughters, son-in-laws and grandchildren.

Our troubles began with the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939. When the Soviets took over Byelorussia, they nationalized everything , confiscated everything and took away the [flour] mill from us. In this manner we were left without so much as a piece of bread. Each of us went to work at jobs. My husband, Yaakov Glick(s)feld, became a Vesovchik (weighing-master) for the Soviets at the mill. Rivkah's husband, Simkha Hendlisch became a teacher in the village of Ugrin. Itkeh's husband, Hirschel Gurvich, worked as the head of a factory that was near Sczuczin. My brother, Elyeh-Chaim went to work as an engineer in the mechanical operations in Baranovich. My younger brother, Yosef-Shmuel worked as a broker in the forestry collective. It was in this manner that we all became gainfully occupied...

It didn't take very long, and the mill burned down under their supervision. The responsible parties were the 'specialists' and the director that they had set over the mill to run it. You can understand that they tried to transfer the blame to my husband. He was arrested, and before we could demonstrate his innocence, he was taken off to jail in Zelva, and there the NKGB used to arouse him every night, and demand that he write Как Зто Ьило,^[1] meaning: to confess how he had set the mill on fire.

After this pack of trouble, we were afraid to remain in Dereczin, and moved to Volkovysk. There, we worked at jobs in military conscription in the Russian aerodrome as freight-handlers, and the children remained behind in Dereczin. Do understand that life was not exactly all sweet honey for us in Volkovysk either. And this was the way we continued in drudgery until the outbreak of the German-Russian war in June 1941.

When the terrible Germans entered Dereczin, my husband and younger daughter Olya were in Volkovysk. Somewhere in a cellar, they managed to survive the bombing there, while people around them fell. I, along with our older daughter Mina were in Dereczin.

It was not easy to get from Volkovysk to Dereczin in those days. Roads were full of German military forces, which constantly was pulled toward the front in the east. Jews were very fearful of even stepping over their thresholds to go out into the public thoroughfares.

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My daughter Olya who was 12 years-old, did not want to wait for the roads to clear, and set out alone to go home to Dereczin. She told her father nothing, because he would have never let her undertake such a journey.

Along the way she was detained by the Germans who asked her if she was Jewish. She answered that she was Christian. When my husband saw that the younger daughter was not to be found, he ran to seek her. And the Germans apprehended him, and had already taken him aside to shoot him. A miracle happened, because the entire echelon was in a hurry, and from the rear command a shout went up not to block the passage forward – and only thanks to this was my husband saved on that day.

He arrived in Dereczin a half-hour after our daughter did, scared to death after such an experience with of the Germans.

In those days, my brother Elya-Chaim decided to return home to Dereczin. On the way, he was detained by the Germans, who discovered a German textbook of higher mathematics on him when he was searched, and seeing that he was an engineer, shot him right on the spot.

He was the first victim from our family.

When the Germans entered Dereczin, they immediately established a Judenrat. Its leadership was placed in mortal danger every minute of the day. The Judenrat was tasked to produce gold and silver, furs and jewelry – every time a different decree. All Jews lived in terror day and night.

Our street, Deutsche Gasse, was outside of the ghetto, in which the 'needed Jews' lived – shoemakers, tailors, mechanics, bakers, blacksmiths, doctors, etc. About 90 people lived in our house. We slept in the attic, on the sides and in the cellars. It was thought that whoever lived on our street was to be spared from death...

Every morning before dawn, the men were driven to work in the various labor centers or to dig pits in the forests. If one survived till the evening, and saw the men return from their work, one counted oneself to be fortunate. Many were taken away to forced labor camps.

One such camp was between Slonim and Kozlovshchina.. My younger brother Yossef-Shmuel was sent there. He never returned from there. They did him in there.

Using all manner of stratagems, they deceived people, exhausted them, starved and killed them. It was not possible to earn one's bread by working for them. It was not permitted to exchange something with a Christian in return for bread – it was punishable by death. A Jew was forbidden to show himself in the marketplace. So, my daughter would dress up like a Christian, and bring home something to eat concealed under her kerchief.

Entire nights were spent looking out the windows, to see if the S.S. troops were not coming to take and slaughter all of us at the pits. We were too fearful to attempt escape, because the Germans held to account that if anyone was missing, the Germans would shoot their whole family, and it was indeed for this reason that no one fled.

In our house we prepared a hideaway for ourselves in the event of an 'action' against us. Our floor had been laid on concrete supports, so a couple of boards were taken out, and we dug out the earth from under the floor, and carried it out at night and spread it out near the mill. The construction of this hideaway occupied my sister Rivkah, my brother-in-law Simkha, Sonya Manikov, who happened to be found with us along with her mother and child, and I also helped. My husband, at that time, had departed for Volkovysk, to determine if there were better possibilities for concealment there. It was said that in the cities that bordered on the Third Reich, the Jews were not being killed. Consequently, Jews from all manner of cities and towns fled to Volkovysk and Bialystock to save themselves from death.

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My husband had sent me a guide who was supposed to take me and the children over the border which was at Zelva. On the night I was supposed to go over the border, there was a wedding of a police officer on the Aleksandr farmstead, which was near the road to Zelva. I therefore remained in Dereczin.

Before dawn, the Germans along with their bloody supporters surrounded the ghetto. We descended into our hideaway. In concealment were: myself and both daughters with my mother, Sonya with her mother and child, Itcheh Shelovsky with his wife and 4 children, Leah from Kolonia [Sinaisk] and her 4 children, the Tanner and his family, and many others, whom I cannot bring to mind. My sister Rivkah, her husband and two children Zyama & Yisrael-Meir were hidden in a second hideaway under a crevice near us in the yard.

Thursday had been Tisha B'Av, and the slaughter started on Friday, the tenth of Av, immediately in the morning.

The Germans came in transport trucks into which they forced everyone without exception, whoever they ran into, or found. Everyone was taken out to Blizniansky's fields, where they were shot and thrown into the 7 pits that had been prepared for this purpose.

From the vantage of our hideaway, we were able to see how they loaded up the people from the house next door onto the auto transport. The Germans were terrifying.

We sat like this until Saturday. My daughter Olya and Leah-keh dressed themselves as Christians, and went out to see what was going on in the town. They saw no people in the streets. Only in the pharmacy did they run into two Jews.

The militia approached our hideaway a couple of times, and attempted to get us to come out by subterfuge. They lit the area with electric lights, and one of the militia, a Volksdeutsche^[2] who had worked as a miller for us, and then for Shelovsky, promised the Shelovskys that he would let them live if they would come out of the hideaway. They wanted to really go out, but my children began to cry and scream that the Shelovskys would save themselves, and the rest of us would be shot. We begged them to stay with us. And so we sat this way until Sunday.

When we no longer heard the sound of shooting, we came out of the hideaway. We ran into a lot of Jews in the Ratner's house, whom the Germans had extracted from their concealment, and led to the Ratner house, promising them that these remaining people would not be killed.

We did not believe the German promises and went to the fields toward the forests. The Byelorussian police apprehended us, and brought us back to the Ratner house. We gave them money, but this also did not help. They took the money, and brought us back to the other surviving Jews.

We didn't stay there very long, and once again set out to reach the forests. My eldest daughter could not move her feet from sheer terror, and thereby we agreed with the Shelovskys that we would rendezvous at the Presada, and as we didn't want to lose one another, our youngest daughter went off to the meeting place to ask that they wait for us. We couldn't reach them any longer, and my little daughter Olya did not return. So I went into the forest with my mother and oldest daughter.

I looked for my little daughter all day, but I couldn't find her. Later, I was told she was beaten to death with rods.

It took us a long time to reach the forest. My mother, then 66 years of age, dragged herself along with exhaustion, having to stop frequently. We helped her to the best of our abilities, waiting for her while she caught her breath.

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My sister and brother-in-law carried their children on their backs. We did not know the way, and made our way in the darkness. We were afraid to stop, because the Byelorussian peasants were turning over lots of Jews into German hands.

Also in the forests, we fled from one place to the next, as we eluded German retaliation. In the retaliation for the partisan reprisal attack against the Dereczin murderers, my mother, sister, brother-in-law and their children were brought down by German bullets.

My daughter and I went off to a combat battalion, and with this army group we survived all of the tribulations that were set before Jewish partisans in the Byelorussian forests.

Translator's Footnotes:

1. Russian for “that's the way it happened.” Return
2. An ethnic German who lived in territories that were predominantly Slavic. Return

– Tisha B'Av, July 23, 1942.

But there is a thought in the air that does not give us rest. Nobody wishes to be a seer and forecast what the coming day will bring to us. A great weight lies on our hearts, our minds are working ceaselessly, and an angry premonition roils within us without any letup.

It is twilight. The sun is setting toward the horizon. It gets dark, and a spiritual darkness begins to steal into the soul.

We go out into the yard to snatch a word of conversation with one another, perhaps some consolation, some news... one wants to know what a second person is thinking.

Suddenly we see two silhouettes at a distance in the darkness, that are heading out of town in the direction to Kolonia [Sinaiska]. There is a side road there that leads to Zelva. The border to the Third Reich is in Zelva. There are no pits dug there – it is rumored...one hopes to rescue oneself from certain death [here]. The silhouettes leave a dark shadow on the soul. Do they know something, and are therefore fleeing? A slaughter? – a cold shiver passes through all extremities.

That night, from the 23^rd to the 24^th of July, almost no one slept in the ghetto.

The ghetto is comprised of the entire Schulhof, the premises of the Tailor's Bet HaMedrash, called the Hayatim Schul, up to the Kamienitzya. The area is cordoned off with barbed wire. The entry to the ghetto is through the yard between the wall to Slutzky's house (where the Edelstein's lived) and the wall to Bebbeh Rabinovich's house. Our house is the first one in the ghetto, our stairs are a few steps from the ghetto gate.

Even before the dawn begins to break, we observe how the ghetto is being surrounded by hundreds of police troops that had been brought up from Slonim. It becomes clear what is going to happen. We have to hide ourselves.

Our hideaway had been prepared by my father ז”ל, in the following manner: to the right of our kitchen there was a Sukkah, a small room with a

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removable roof. From the Sukkah there was an entrance into the attic by way of a ladder. The window from the Sukkah looked out at the yard of Bebbeh Rabinovich's [house], and as long as I remember, there never was a pane of glass in this window, rather it was nailed over with wooden boards. My father did away with the way up the ladder into the attic, and he moved the ladder into the yard, where there was a passage into Bebel's property. Under the roof of our house he constructed a small door, through which it would be possible to crawl into the attic. My father blocked the door from the kitchen to the Sukkah with the kitchen buffet, which at its full stance completely blocked off the door. He arranged that the very bottom panel on the buffet could be raised and lowered by pulling on a rope.

It was through this lift-door and into the bottom shelf of the buffet, I led the residents of our house into the Sukkah. I was the last one to crawl in. At the last minute, I pushed the door to the street wide open to give the murderers the impression that we had all fled from the house. I had also provided several loves of freshly baked bread. Before crawling into the hideaway, I wanted to be sure of what was happening around us, because it was deathly quiet in the ghetto. So I ran into the bedroom and leapt to the window, from which it was possible to have a good view of Chava Itcheh's house where the barbed wire boundary of the ghetto ran.

A shudder ran through all my limbs. The police stood there with their guns aimed, and I was still able to see how people who lived in the Bet HaMedrash premises began to run back and forth like poisoned rats, deathly pallid, with bulging eyes. The police train their guns on them, laughing cynically and in jest.

Instinctively, I tore myself away from the window, and upset and trembling I let myself into the hideaway. I closed the door to the shelf put a floorboard in place, placed several pots on it, and closed the lift door to the buffet, pulled the ropes to me, so they would not be noticed, and closed the Sukkah door.

That is how we all sat, deathly still and waited...maybe a miracle from heaven will occur.

We were 12 people there: My father, Moshe Gelman, Hasia Gelman, Sheplian^[1] and his son, Sasha, Zina Blizniansky, a young man from Suwalk and his wife, Herschel Zarnik and his wife, Pesha, brother Shmuel and me.

The bloody play began at about 6AM. Max Sheplian took the first bullet, who also lived with us. He did not enter the hideaway with us, he wanted to try and get out of the ghetto.

Heartrending screams and wailing reached us from all sides. They literally cut you to the heart, filled your mind and paralyzed your limbs. We sat as if mortally wounded. Outside we heard the engine roar of the motor transport trucks, that were taking people to the killing fields. One can hear the sounds of beating and shooting, and over the din from time-to-time, one can hear the hoarse broken cry of “Shema Yisrael!”

And here they are almost at our front door, up in the attic. They are searching, throwing things about, breaking things, stabbing at things with their bayonets. Debris falls from above onto our heads, and all of our limbs are trembling as if from an ague, and it is only by sheer force that one can keep one's teeth clenched together, so they won't chatter noisily, and we hold our breath, we sit in anxiety with our nerves taut, full of terror that something inside of us is going to simply burst. The air in the hideaway gets stuffier minute by minute, creating suffocation in the throat, since it is impossible to breathe continuously through the nose – but nobody dares draw a breath with an open mouth. Every rasp from a mouth can give us away – better already to choke to death...

It gets quieter in our house, they go away. But here they come again, it must be other bloodthirsty two-legged beasts. Again the searches start, and once again hearts start to beat like trip-hammers. We hear how they approach the kitchen buffet and how the

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buffet doors are opened, two smashing blows from rifles push out the lift door, the door to the Sukkah falls down – and the four eyes of policemen look in at us – –

The end has come, they will take us to the pits – this is what each of us is thinking.

Even now, many years since that terrifying moment, as I write these lines, I still cannot believe that a miracle could indeed happen.

At this time I am amazed at my temerity. In that tragic moment of my life, I took stock of what awaited me. It entered my mind that if a man is to drink, he has to grab a straw.

I flew out of the hideaway with the speed of a cat. Two police, who were not local, stood before me. I took them both by the hand and addressed them in Polish: panawie, zlituczieszie. Not another word came out of my mouth at that moment. Both stand and silently look at me. I don't lose my composure, and hop back in through the entry into the hideaway, Sheplian gives me a watch, I gather up my few valuables, the Suwalk young man gives me a finger ring, and I run out back to them – both are standing at the same spot as before. I give them these things, which at the time were of absolutely no value to us. “Tilko to?” – one asks, “Is that all? How many of you are in there?” I anser him: “Twelve.” I run into my bedroom, because there I had hidden a few hundred rubles, my mother's golden chain and a watch. But I found nothing. The whole house looked like it had been hit by an earthquake.

I address the two police: “When it quiets down, you will be well taken care of.” The second one answers me: “You're lucky you ran into us.” – and in a moment, they give me a push through the shelf and close the doors [to the buffet].

A ray of hope flashed through my thoughts. Once again I replaced the floorboard, put the pots on top, repaired the lift-door, and closed the [Sukkah] door. Again I sit among those who were scared to death. They knew what was going on with me, and now they stood over me, with frightened and awed stares. “What [now] Katya?” – the young Suwalker asks. I was tongue-tied, and it was hard for me to keep my head on my shoulders.

What they lived through, and what they thought in those minutes until I returned to the inside of the hideaway, is hard for me to say. For the time being, apparently everyone thought, we have for now avoided a certain death...

Friday night was quiet. Very early on Saturday morning everything started anew. Through the boards hammered across the window, once again came the cries and wailing of the Jews who lived outside the ghetto, near the bathhouse street and the market square shops. It appeared that the murderers had finished their handiwork in the ghetto, and now fell upon the “necessary” Jews who had been designated to be left living. The entire Sabbath day they were shooting, and once again we lived through a day of distress and pain.

We agreed to flee that night. As soon as evening came, I opened a container, took out several pieces of underwear for the men, put a few bolts of fabric into a small sack, which would always come in handy, put aside some underwear for my father, and got myself ready to leave.

I presented myself to my father and said: “Papa, come, we will flee.” My father does not move from his place. “Go – he says – run, save yourself if at all possible. For me it is all the same now. Either here or there, I will in any event fall...”

I was seized with a shiver. I tried again and again to argue with my father, but he stubbornly said: “I will remain behind...” I said my final goodbyes to my father, never to see him again.

Herschel was our guide, he was well acquainted with all the roads, villages and farmsteads. On our way we met the Petrukhoviches. Mr. Petrukhovich was a good guide, and was able to offer counsel in many areas.

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This is how we saved ourselves from the slaughter. This was the beginning of our life in the forest, full of dangers and tragedies. Of all those who escaped from our hideaway, only two remained alive – Herschel and I.

It was Isser Lev who told me of my father's bitter fate.

Sunday, on the 26^th of July, my father left the hideaway with a loaf of bread under his arm. He was walking this way, calmly and sadly in the vicinity of Judah Wolfowitz's house.

He was approached from the opposite direction by Albin, a local policeman who had been a miller in Shelovsky's mill.

“Where are you going, Bialosotsky?” – he sternly asked my father. My father answered him: “I am going where my eyes are taking me. I am bringing bread to the hungry...”

My father fell, shot by Albin's murderous bullet.

Translator's Footnote:

1. Very likely that Sheplian & Shaplan are one and the same families. Return

The ghetto passport of Sarah Lev (daughter of Dvoshka Daraliner)

Yet the awful day does arrive. To this day, tears well up in my eyes, as I recall after all these long years, that most bitter of all days, the day after the fast of Tisha B'Av.

With the coming of dawn, we were awakened by the report of gunfire that we heard close to our house. We lived, at the time, in an office building that had at one time served as the post office. In the same house with us were the Sinai & Beckenstein families, Moshe Kwiat, and other Jews from a village near Dereczin.

At 6AM a transport truck neared our house. The Germans and their Byelorussian helpers began to urge us along with their rifle butts, getting us up into the transport. It is impossible for me to describe my emotions at that moment, as the vehicle began to move, taking us to this cruel death.

At a pre-arranged moment, Mottel Beckenstein & Velvel Kwiat jumped from the transport, followed by Moshe Kwiat. After several days in the forest, I found out that the first two were killed by gunfire from the guards on the trucks.

I turned and looked for the last time at the faces of my parents, my beloved brother and sister, and I jumped from the truck immediately after Moshe Kwiat. Perhaps I didn't think that I would save my life, but my entire being was focused on assuring that I would get myself away from the terrible fate of a mass killing. A hail of bullets rained down at my heels. At one point, I was concerned that I had been hit in the back, but it turned out to be a light wound in the shoulder.

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My father ז”ל, never even gave thought to running from the Germans and death. He was certain that all was lost. The Germans had reached the gates of Moscow, all the Jews will be slaughtered, and therefore it was appropriate to go with the community and share in the fate of the entirety of our people.

I ran with all my might, certain that any second I would be found by the bullet that would kill me. I reached the yard of Antonovich the gentile, and crawled into a dog house that stood in the yard. To this day, the receding screams of all my loved ones echo in my ears, as the vehicles were taking them off to death.

A silence pervaded the area afterwards. I hadn't even gotten used to my circumstances, and to the idea that I had saved myself, when I see the woman of the house, the gentile's wife, running straight to me in the dog house. As soon as she saw me, a Jewess, she hastened to call a policeman to reveal my hiding place. The policeman raised the corner of his jacket and displayed the booty he had looted from the houses of the Jews, and the woman admitted him to her house. The two of them were certain that I would not succeed in escaping their clutches.

I fled the dog house and hid in the thorns and grass in Torovitz's field. I lay there until I saw the wife of the field owner who was cutting down the thorns near me. To this day I cannot believe how I was saved, and why this woman with the scythe in her hand didn't spot me.

Suddenly shots rang out from the nearby abattoir, where some Jews had hidden themselves and had been discovered by the Germans. Once again silence reigned about, and a light rain began to fall – and I lay without moving. I remained in this field of thorns until midnight. The rain stopped, and a bright moon emerged from the clouds. I began to crawl on all fours, until I reached the wheat fields. The wheat was high, and I could accelerate my pace even standing up at my full height.

On my right ran the road, and at its side – a stand of trees. Behind these trees, the pits had been dug, in which hundreds of Jews from my town lay at eternal rest, among them the members of my family.

I continued along my way, heading for a nearby village. I trembled from the cold and the terrible sights that came into my view. I reached the yard of a farmer who knew my parents. A dog ran out of the yard and ran at me while barking, I then proceeded slowly towards him, until the dog quieted down. I reached the door, and I knocked – no one answered. Tired and exhausted from running, I collapsed on the doorstep. The dog lay down next to me, being the first creature to show me any friendliness on that night of terror.

When dawn broke, I left that place and went to the village of Mikhovsk. There, I hid myself for the entire Saturday in a farmer's silo. On Sunday, the farmer took me to the forest, ands showed me the path that would take me to the partisans.

On the way, I ran into a group of people, and as I got near them, it became clear that these were the fortunate ones that had managed to escape from the abattoir building.

I entered the forest. It never occurred to me that I would remain alive. Days came afterwards, when we were certain that our dead were better off than we were, to those oppressed and pursued in the heavy growth of the forest at war.

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I am the sole survivor of my entire family in Dereczin. My wife was Dobeh of the Chernitsky family, Beileh-Hannah's daughter. I concealed myself in a table that had belonged to Elya Wilenczyk from the market square stores, during the day of the terrifying slaughter. My wife and children were killed.

It is therefore incumbent on me, as it is on all those from Dereczin who were spared and remain alive, to assume the duty of remembering Dereczin, her well-mannered Jews, her youth, her religious and community life, in order to leave this as a memorial to everyone.

Dereczin was small, but it was suffused with Torah scholarship, and it was full of diligent ans lively young people. The Dereczin Jews earned their livelihood through hard work and much expenditure of their energies. Now all of us know very well, that Dereczin showed the Jewish world at large how to exact retribution from a murderous enemy, who carried out the slaughter of our brothers and sisters, parent and children, in cold blood, in our town, and in hundreds of cities and towns of the Jewish Pale of Settlement, in Poland and other European countries. Dereczin was surrounded by many forests, in whose depths our young people carried out a bloody struggle against the German foe, a war that can be likened to that ancient one carried out by Mattathais and his sons [the Maccabees] in that story of old.

I am so strongly moved, with both love and respect to enumerate the tens of names of those fine Dereczin heads of households – scholarly Jews, replete with knowledge and wisdom, Yiddishkeit and piety, goodness and friendliness. And I want so much to enumerate an entire list of the sons-in-law, who came from other places to Dereczin, who grew into the Dereczin community, and contributed a cosmopolitan and Jewish beauty. I also feel compelled to tell of the hundreds of sons and daughters of Dereczin, young people with ideals and faith, from whom grew the strong partisan forces in the surrounding forests.

Every Jew in Dereczin had his own way of life, and was recognized by his own special characteristics and with his own manner of expression and way with words.

Unfortunately it is not so easy to account for everybody, and since we should not in any way discriminate against those who we lost whose names we cannot recall, we will also not record the names of those that are deeply etched in our memory – balebatim, sons-in-law, young people; scholars, rabbis, religious functionaries, people who engaged in community work, intelligentsia, craftsmen, business people, mill owners, and grain merchants, and melamdim and teachers – all together [comprising] a beautiful Jewish community, that was cut down, and from which only a few tens of people survived.

Among all of these people from Dereczin, who come to mind, were personalities of a stature that we don't see any more in our present generation.

From year to year, it becomes increasingly clearer what the true extent was of what our people lost in the Second World War, when that dark time of Hitler's hegemony came upon us.

Now the single-minded objective of the young people from Dereczin becomes so clear – the will to take revenge on the murderers.

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When the accursed Germans entered Halinka, immediately on the first day, they drove all the Jews together in the church, and on the spot they shot anyone who showed any resistance. Many victims fell that first day of the German occupation.

When the ghettoes of the entire area were set up for the Jews and enclosed, the Jews of Halinka were sent to the ghetto in Dereczin, and that is where they met their end. They lie in the large mass grave with their brothers.

The bitter end of my family also came swiftly. When it became known that the Jews were going to be taken to their slaughter the following morning, many Jews hid themselves in bunkers. My mother, Liebeh, my sister Freydl, my brother-in-law Jonathan and his three children – Mikheleh, Yosseleh, & Esther-Michal – went down into the bunker along with others. My sister Leah remained above, in the house, because she was caring for an infant, and didn't want to take him down into the bunker, in the event that he might begin to cry, and give away the hideout of a lot of Jews. In that same bunker, a father choked his own child to death when it began to cry. My sister Freydl remained standing on the ladder which led into the bunker, in order to determine what would happen to Leah and the baby. It was then that she heard the last outcry...

My mother, brother-in-law and the children made their way to Slonim, thinking that somehow they would be able to save themselves there. My mother gave every bite of food to the children and grandchildren – “Eat children – she would say – you are still young, and perhaps you will be able to stay alive.” She became swollen form hunger. When the children left the hideaway once, they did not find their mother upon returning. The Germans took her away...

The Germans killed my brother-in-law Jonathan in Slonim. He possibly could have saved himself, since the partisans proposed to him that he go with them, but without the children. He did not want to leave the children alone.

After his death, the three little children were left alone. Esther was 8 years old, Yosseleh – 10, and Mikheleh 12. The two older children agreed with one another to go into the forest. They left little Esther with a Christian who lived not far from our mill. They believed that no harm would befall her.
The gentile, with whom they left the little girl, turned her over into German hands. The Germans questioned her, and then turned her over to a Byelorussian gendarme, a former neighbor of ours, to take her out and shoot her in the forest. The gentile took a rifle and a staff, led little Esther off into the forest, and from there to a distant village to a Christian of his acquaintance, warning him that no harm should befall her, because in retaliation he will torch the entire village.

The two little brothers, Yosseleh & Mikheleh were sought by their little sister, but she didn't find them. In the forest, they attempted to get near to the Dereczin people, but there was no one to be found who could care for them and protect them.

Only that dear Jew, Shimon Lusky would from time-to-time bring them some food. Both brothers expired on the same night from hunger and cold in the forest.

Esther lived as a Christian in the home of the peasant, wore a crucifix, and went to church to pray. At that point she no longer wanted to even know that there were Jews. As a child, she had already walked over the bodies of her nearest and dearest, and those of other Jews, and she had become certain that the fate of all Jews was – death.

After the war, when Shimon Lusky learned that little Esther was alive and living amongst gentiles, he went there and wanted to take her to him. She didn't

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want to see him, or listen to him, arguing that she didn't understand Yiddish. Shimon, the loyal Jew did not give up, and after a lengthy effort, he was permitted to take her out of the peasant's shack. She was given to the Sobol family. Not only one survivor from Halinka was given a warm reception in their home. But little Esther felt strange there, and fled back to the Christian family.

When Shimon and others of the surviving remnants from Halinka and Dereczin were preparing to leave Poland, they decided that at any price they would take Esther with them.

They showed her a card from me, in order that she know that she still had an aunt who stands ready to do anything for her. She went with them.

After an extended period of wandering all over Europe, after being in a youth halfway house for refugees, little Esther arrived in the Land of Israel. Today she has a happy family life, has a good husband and two lovely daughters.

Hitler's anti-Semitic agitation hit us hard long before his murderous soldiers arrived in our area.

By the end of the thirties, anti-Semitism had waxed in Poland, under the influence of Hitlerism, which also reached Dereczin. The Polish regime and various Polish unions wanted to first hit the Jews in their livelihoods, commerce and sources of income. There were already many instances where Christians would take merchandise from Jews and refuse to pay for it. I cannot forget the instance when my wife, Hadassah ע”ה, came to me in the bakery with tears in her eyes to tell me that a Christian had come into the store, took three loaves of bread and refused to pay. He even went so far as to joke about it and laugh, when my wife demanded payment for the bread. When we refused to give him bread without money, the Christian went to the police and brought back a note from the police officer, Dombeck to the effect that if we didn't arrange things with the Christian, he would come and inveigh against the Jews.

This was not the only incident that occurred to us in our business, and certainly not in the case of other Dereczin people in their stores and places of business. It was not only once that groups of young Christians would stand about and deter peasants from coming into Jewish businesses. In the outskirts of town, near Blizniansky's grain operation, there were “rustlers” and they used to confiscate the wagons and horses of the peasants by force, not even asking the permission of the peasant, and take it off to the cooperative.

At that time, we already felt the Hitlerist hand at a distance – the people were well acquainted with anti-Semitic methods.

It was in this way that anti-Semitism impoverished the Jewish masses, and robbed them of their livelihood.

* * *

Afterwards came September 1939 and the outbreak of the Second World War. I will not describe the fear in those days, when Dereczin was left literally with no one in charge, the people fled, and the Soviets had not yet arrived, and when groups of young people together with a few Christians tried to assert control in the town, and just plain started trouble for no good reason, which nearly led to the outbreak of a pogrom in Dereczin. In the end, the Soviet “leadership” finally arrived.

The truth of the matter is that we were all very fortunate that the Soviets rescued us from the

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Germans. For a little under two years, they liberated us from the clutches of the Nazi beast.

But as soon as the Soviet regime was installed, we immediately recognized that they also “liberated” us from our livelihood. The mills were confiscated from the Dereczin millers. There was no flour for the bakeries. What was one to do? I went to a second baker, to Shmuel Abelovich. He and his wife Bashkeh, both intelligent people ז”ל, comforted me, and said that the new regime would look after the workers. Soon the trains schedules will be modified, and when the trains start to run again, grain will be shipped into the mills. We, the bakers, will only work for 7 hours a day, without night work, and we will have a fortunate existence...

Days and weeks went by – and there was no flour. Until Shmuel told me one day that he had never met such liars as these Soviets. The simply had no grain, and they were bringing nothing into Dereczin.

So all 12 bakers in Dereczin get together, and travel to Zelva, to the Isvolkom^[1] where the chairman argues continuously that our land is now a country of своода^[2] where every individual is free to do whatever work he pleases. He exhorts us to take out licenses, and to start baking. Well, we took the licenses – but this did not turn into flour.

When a peasant would finally bring a little bit of corn or flour, I would offer to pay him with money – but, the peasant would argue that he has more money than I do, and that what he wanted for his flour was – salt, sugar... and from where could we get him these products which had already long ago vanished from the market?

We practically did no baking, but two months didn't go by, when we received a bill from the Isvolkom for the licences that was so large, that we were badly disappointed.

So once again we traveled to Zelva and lodged our complaint before the “Chairman.” Once again he argued that we had full freedom, and that we had been given licenses for independent bakeries. In the end, he encouraged us to form a cooperative bakery on behalf of the Solkhoz, but regardless, we would have to pay our license fees. Our cooperative, with Berel Sacker at the head began to function, baking bread for the military – but the town residents would stay in line from 8 at night until daybreak and only part of them would get a little bit of bread. Unable to bear the sight of some many hungering in Dereczin, I would set some bread to the side, putting my life in danger, and distribute pieces of it among the hungry.

I am telling here [what happened] from the perspective of my own business under Soviet rule. But this is the way they managed the business affairs in every sector and enterprise. Businesses were cleaned out, and people became impoverished – and in this fashion, the Soviets brought down on us the same troubles that had been dealt to us by the anti-Semitic Polish regime.

I will demonstrate in this way that these troubles began well before the War. But it was the German regime that led us to our graves.

* * *

We thought that at the beginning of the German-Russian War, that the Russians were both strong and heroic, and would not permit the Germans to penetrate so deeply into Russia. But we were quickly disappointed in this regard.

Two days after Hitler attacked Russia, Tuesday at nightfall, two small German tanks had already entered Dereczin. A number of people came out of their houses, raised their arms and shouted: “Heil Hitler!” On Wednesday there was still fighting between the Germans and the retreating Russians, Friday, a substantial detachment of Germans entered Dereczin.

When all the residents were driven together at the Russian Orthodox Church, the Christians already were separating themselves from the Jews, and even

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the most familiar of them no longer wanted to greet us, and instead turned their heads away from us.

It was then that fires broke out in many of the Jewish houses. My wife Hadassah, ע”ה, began putting the fire out. She said” “I don't know how much longer we will live, but even if it is only overnight, I want to live in my own house.” We put the fire out, and remained in our own home until the annihilation of the Jewish community of Dereczin.

A great deal has already been told of the terrifying days and months under the yoke of the Germans and their allies. We know that our fate was – to go under. As early as the first days [of the occupation], a German citizen working in the field post office (our house was right next to the post office) said to us: “Too bad that you are Jews. Our Fuhrer hates the Jews, and his program is to root out all of you...”

The first months of the German occupation passed in this manner. There were, in fact, no Germans in Dereczin at that time. Their allies, the Byelorussians ruled on their behalf. People did not work or engage in commerce, rather, they sold off their assets to the Christians – for a meager piece of bread. Nobody was secure about their lives, or more appropriately said: everyone was quite certain about their impending death.
Children did not study, and didn't even play. There were no simkhas celebrated in Jewish homes.

Around harvest time, orders began to arrive from Slonim relative to providing the Germans with soap, furs and gold. The Judenrat was created. And I will never forget the picture that I saw through my window: on a rainy day, an auto with three German officers arrived, who commenced shooting birds in the air while shouting: “Judenrat! Attention Judenrat men!” The members of the Judenrat came running, and the Germans demanded that they immediately provide 300 bars of toilette soap, and 200 bars of coarse soap – and commenced to beat them with their swagger sticks and threatened them with death if the soap wasn't produced at the specified time. The Jews ran from house to house, pleading: “Fellow Jews, save us! Please give us your soap!” And when they returned with the soap, the Germans thanked them with blows and whacks with their sticks. From my window I was able to see how the Jews fled as they were receiving blows, falling to the ground, and picking themselves up again to continue fleeing. And the murderous Germans beat them, shoot to the left and right – and laugh.

In the wintertime, 8 Germans came, accompanied by 40 Byelorussian police, and took charge of running Dereczin. At the head of them was “Der Meister;” the second was called Poritz – a murderer from the land of murderers; the third was a Polish Volksdeutsche and he stood at the head of the police. A routine of forced labor was initiated, with tight control over the number of the Jews [participating]. They began to divide the Jews into “needed” and “unneeded” [categories]. Bread was distributed only on presentation of ration cards – literally hunger abaters.

After shooting all the Gypsies that they found in our area, the Germans set upon the Polish citizens and shot a large number of them. At the same time they set upon former Soviet officers and soldiers, who were to be found in the neighboring villages. A portion of them, who had presented themselves to the command in Slonim, were shot by them, while the rest had already gone into the woods to form the initial partisan brigades. That is how the war began between the partisans and the Germans. The Germans attempted to launch raids on the partisans, but without success. Once even, the partisans prepared an ambush for the Germans and the Byelorussian police, and surprised a lot of them. Their horses fled, and they were forced to return to Dereczin in disgrace.

In town, legends began to spread about the partisans and their heroic deeds.

* * *

“Der Meister” went on furlough to Germany and arrived just at the time of an American air attack – so he returned to Dereczin before his leave time was up.

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And in our area, the partisan groups grew in strength, and they would carry out sorties that caused the Germans and the police trouble.

The Germans took their anger out on the Jews. Poritz began to murderously beat and also shoot anyone he met on his way. Then that dark and dismal Sabbath came when they took away the families of those young people who had returned from the labor camp, after partisans had attacked that camp and freed the Jews that were there. All the members of their families, fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters, were taken out of town and shot.

Jews began to flee Dereczin and go into the forests to the partisans. The watch around the ghetto was beefed up, and the ghetto was enclosed in barbed wire. As a baker, I still could move about freely, from the bakery into the ghetto and back. I was still able to bring a variety of things into town, which the Christians would send to various people, with whom they had bartered products for household articles.

Circumstances grew worse from day to day. The police and the Germans beat us without rhyme or reason. It was so bad, that we all suddenly had become very religious, praying whenever we could, and fasting every Monday and Thursday. The Rabbi comforted us, and calmed us, making a variety of calculations in which he indicated that the war would end in a short time. But, the war dragged on, and the day of slaughter arrived...

* * *

We all fasted on Tisha B'Av. In the afternoon hours, rumors began to spread through the ghetto, nobody knew exactly what or when, but a great unrest dominated everyone. The Germans had used selected Jews to spread a rumor that a sortie against the partisans was being organized...

But people stood watch through the night, nobody took off their clothing. My family, along with a number of other relatives remained with me in the bakery outside the ghetto.

There were a number of Jews, who that night, with the help of Christians that crossed the Zelvianka [River] to save themselves by going to Zelva or Volkovysk, which then belonged to the Third Reich. It was believed that slaughtering would not take place there. I would have also attempted to get out with my dear family, but every day I was required to provide the Germans with baked breadstuffs, and if they were not to receive this early in the morning, who knows how many Jews they would slaughter for this. So I followed my own counsel, and remained in Dereczin.

We were all up in the attic, with our packages by our sides, ready to run in the event of danger.

At exactly 9PM, the supervisor of the bakery arrived, a Christian from Slizhi. He happened to be in Minsk during the time of the slaughter of the Jews, and he came into possession of a lot of booty. Now, her certainly was waiting for the slaughter in Dereczin...

We prayed to God that he would go away, but he sat and sat. He argued that he was afraid of the partisans, and because of this he didn't want to go home. It was only at 1AM in the morning that he finally left.

At 5AM, Chaim-Shia and Rachel came running and began to shout that the town is surrounded by police, who are shooting into the houses of the Jews.

We all went down into the cellar and blocked the entrance with a board. I went up to the attic, opened a few of the roof shingles, and saw how they were driving the Jews to the vehicles, which had arrived from Slonim, being beaten with rifle butts to the point of death, and taking everyone out of town to be shot at the side of the pits. After midday, when the vehicles had left, the Christian neighbors came out of their houses to search for hidden Jews, in order to turn them over to hands of the police.

I went down into the cellar. My wife ע”ה, and I took up axes and positioned ourselves near the entrance in order to be able to break open the heads of

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anyone trying to break into the cellar. In the meantime, the police began to chop at the floor and the walls with iron tools. One of them began shouting: “Get out of there!” – at which point Bashkeh Lifshovich ran over and began to convince us that she recognized the voice of Vanka, her neighbor's son, whom she helped bring up. We put down our axes. As Janek entered the cellar, Bashkeh began to plead for mercy: “I brought you up and raised you, do you now wish to kill us?!!!” Janek argued that he didn't, God forbid, want to do anyone any harm, but he must obtain something of value in order that he can divide it up among his companions outside.

We gave him whatever we had in our pockets, he grabbed it and ran out shouting: “Out of there, if not – I'll shoot immediately!” We began to flee through the windows and doors.

First me, and then after me Chaim-Shia, Elik, Taibl & Gershon, managed to get out through a window and hid themselves in a former shed that had later been turned into an outhouse. We did not know what happened to the rest. It appears that they didn't make an attempt to flee the cellar, and they were all done away with.

At about 7PM we emerged from the hiding place. I went into the cellar and found nobody there. I began to wail and cry over my terrible loss and couldn't move from the spot. Elik then came over to me and began shouting: “If we have managed to save ourselves, then we have to do everything we can to take revenge from the murderers!” From the bakery, we took bread and cleavers, and crawling literally on our stomachs, we went away across fields and through swamps, in the general direction of the forest.

Along the way we found Hella (today the wife of Shmuel Bornstein) and Izza, the doctor's children. They were left alone after their parents had been murdered.

We wandered for a long time, until Dr. Atlas helped us be assimilated into a partisan brigade.

Translator's Footnotes:

1. Apparently an administrative seat for the collective. Return
2. The Russian word for freedom. Return

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On that very Tisha B'Av, the eve of the day of slaughter, people ran from hose to house, and in every location, spoke of the impending evil that could descend on us any day. Upsetting conversations like this had already taken place ten times before this. Every time that a rumor began to circulate about the slaughter of the Jews in Dereczin, my father ז”ל, would take us children to the house of gentiles. My mother never went with us. She would say: “You are young children, I will stay here with my parents and brothers, their fate will be my fate.”

After the Tisha B'Av fast, when a fright seized the Jews, we said to one another: there have been many times that terrifying rumors were circulated about impeding things that might happen to us, and until now, none of them have materialized. Let us try to believe that this night and the day after will pass uneventfully. The truth was that our hearts trembled, but we didn't want to believe, and therefore we did not believe. We went to bed.

With the coming of dawn, we awoke to the sounds of auto engines running, and terrible screams.

We understood what was happening in the streets of Dereczin and in its houses. All the time I thought

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that if it was ordained that I must die, let it be on the run, especially that I not have to witness the murder of my nearest and dearest.

My parents and youngest brother, Velvel, went up to the higher reaches of the roof. My brothers, Moshe-Peretz & Boruch stayed with me at the entrance to the house. At an appointed moment, we had decided – myself, my brother Moshe-Peretz, and with us, Moshe-Chaim Ogulnick to run towards the wheat fields. Moshe-Chaim succeeded in escaping, but my brother and I were caught by the police and the police ordered us back to our house.

As we entered our house, a policeman was standing there holding a rifle, and he had just murdered Yankel the carpenter, who lay dead across the threshold into the house. The policeman turned to me and said:

– “You look very much like a gentile, why do you have to die?”

To this, my brother Moshe-Peretz answered: “If you really care about her life, it is in your hands.”

–“I will let her go at a time when the Nazis won't see,” – the policeman answered him. He ordered me to take the yellow badge off. I stood dumbfounded, because I didn't believe what he said. I thought that he would surely shoot me at the moment I tried to follow his orders.

My heart was torn when I saw my brother Boruch attempt to sneak through a crack in the entranceway door, something that was impossible to accomplish. He tried to evade the bullets of the murderers like a hunted animal.

The policeman ordered me to walk. For the last time in my life I saw both of my brothers. I did not take my leave of them, because not for one minute did I believe that I would remain alive. I drew away and hid in the wheat field, lay down in it, not raising my head until sunset.

As it got dark, I stood up, and espied out house in the distance. All the household goods were scattered about outside. I understood that I had no one to go back to. My entire family was murdered by the Nazis – my father, Shmuel-Aryeh Einstein, my mother Esther from the Vlitsky family, my three brothers, Moshe-Peretz, Boruch and the youngest, Velvel.

As the darkness deepened, I went to the home of the gentile that knew us, where our father would take us into hiding. There was only one room in this house, in which the man, his wife and many children lived.

He himself was with the partisans. At night we were stuffed together, and during the day, I hid in the nearby wheat field.

This is the way I passed some time at the home of my rescuer. I decided not to put their lives in any further danger, and head for the forest, to the partisans. The woman of the house tried to detain me, arguing that the partisans do not accept women into their ranks. Nevertheless, I was stubborn. My generous hostess prepared provisions for my journey, brought me to the principal road, and explained to me how to reach the partisan brigade.

It was in this way that I was saved, the only one of my family. And I reached the forest.

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My son, Yossel Petrukhovich was a Yeshivah student. He studied at the Yeshivah in Slonim, but when the Germans arrived, he returned home. Afterwards, he was in the Puzovitsa [labor] camp, together with all the other young people, and when the camp was dismantled, he remained at home. Every day, along with all the other Jews, he was driven to dig pits. Occasionally I would pay off someone else with flour who then go in his place. Afterwards, we paid with money, and with shoe leather, to gain our son admittance to the carpentry works. He worked in the Labzov yard, and every day he would return home with everyone else.

On the last day, Tisha B'Av he fasted, he came home, bringing beets and cheese with him. He says to me: “Mother dear, this Shabbat we will have something to eat already.” I also baked up a full array of “breadstuffs.”

He was killed the next day.

I personally hid him, but they found him. And I personally heard how he pleaded with the Germans, telling them he was a craftsman. They answered: good, we need the likes of you. And they took him to be put to death. And I was able to bear all this!

My daughter Gisha was up in the attic. So they took her, along with about another twenty people down from there. The policeman, that had at one time worked for Shelovsky in the mill, beat and pushed them, shouting: “Move you worthless scum!” And pitiably, she cried for help: “Jews, Jews!” And as her mother, I could live through all this, hearing this but being unable to offer any help!

We sat in the bunker at the home of Finiya the metalworker. We lived in his barn, because [by this time] we had no other place to live. It is impossible to describe what we lived through in those days!

The following morning, after the first slaughter, my husband fled to the forest with our 10 year-old son. They had lain in the attic, underneath some boards, [and when] they took everyone else down and shot them to death, they remained alive. In the end our son was lost in the forest.

I did not know if my husband was alive, and he had no knowledge of my circumstances. On the first day, everyone was driven to the pit. On Saturday, the second day, all the shooting was done at the cemetery, and [the dead] placed in the pits.

Sunday morning, town residents went to get water. I saw this from my hiding place. Afterwards, at about 10AM, they started shooting again.

They brought out Shapiro with his wife and son, and a woman refugee, and Dobkeh Lifshovich's two sons, and Tzira Freidkeh's husband, and Riva's husband, and Mendusheh Beckenstein's son-in-law. They were ordered to dig graves, but they could not, and the policeman beat them with his rifle. After this, the village gentiles began to dig.

It was in this manner that Jews were brought from all locations and hideaways, and shot to death. I saw this all with my own eyes!

I saw how Yankel Weinstein was brought, wearing a fur coat, and a brother of Shayneh-Reizl, an American. He was stripped naked as the day his mother bore him, and the gentile Garvik from Alekshitz took away all his possessions. I saw all of this.

Afterwards they brought a woman refugee carrying an infant. They shot them and threw them into the pit. The head and forehead flew upward. They [then] did the same to a woman and child from Kolonia [Sinaiska]. I will never forget these two sights until I die.

They then brought the wife of the wagoner and shot

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her, and there was no more room in the grave for her, so they crammed her body in.

And many other Jews were brought and murdered in this way. And [through this] the head man stood and took photographs without stopping.

Then they brought ten men out of detention. Yeshea from Halinka was already wounded, and Leibkeh Shulkovich walked beside him with a bowl to catch his blood, so it wouldn't spill on the ground. As soon as they reached the pit, they were all stripped naked, and they were all shot in the pit.

Elyeh Goldenberg began to speak: “Who will do all your work for you?” – the deputy leader came over and indicated that they should be spared. They were then taken out of the pit.

Beyond this point, I could no longer bear to watch.

We sat crammed into our bunker, which had been a Sukkah with one wall facing the cemetery. Through the cracks in the wall we saw everything, I and my younger daughter Chaya Judovich.

Sunday night we fled into the forest. We were shot at. Along the way we saw many dead lying about, unburied, shot in their attempt to flee from Hell.

We come from Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary and Lithuania, We come from cities and towns made Judenrein after the slaughter! From ghettoes, bunkers, pits, barbed wire, From every place we were extracted from; From Auschwitz, Sobibor, Treblinka and Majdanek, Where we countenanced thousands of deaths; From ice and snow, from winds, rain, burning rays, From stormy waves, from well springs boiling with blood. We come now as the appointed judges To write a new chapter in world history. World, observe the death march, Listen to the gruesome din – We are the six million dead that are awakened, To you, an entire world, with our fists stretched out. We come from that far, distant byway, From those bloody nights and terrifying days.

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Take off those white gloves, which protect your hands So they are not, forbid, dirtied with ashes or sprayed with blood. A world, you that are so cynical, raise your head and look about, Open your eyes – filled with trepidation shame and sadness, Observe carefully you world, pay attention with some effort, We are a flow of blood streaming in fury, We are the hot ash from long burnt-out ovens, We are the smoke from the chimneys of the crematoria; On all the roads and ways, our bones are spread and sown, Golden teeth were torn from our mouths, Mixed into earth and loam, with brick and lime, With scattered brains of children; Shot to death and buried alive, Poisoned to death by Zyklon-B gas; Ravaged to death by angry dogs, Dogs that the S.S. dignified with the appellation of “Human Being;” We are a product – soap, Our flesh and blood were transformed into salable products; We are lampshades made from the skin of human beings, Taken off us while still alive – or immediately after death. O, ‘civilized’ world, Self-deluded and misdirected! How you were willing to go along with the Nazi sadism, How casually you stood by and observed the Nazi cataclysm! No help, no resistance, and no countermeasures. Where was your cognizance at that time, your protest, When full of fright and terror, small children, Scrawny and pale, only skin and bones, A blink from death Did live: give us a piece of bread, a piece of bread! And where then was your human responsibility To rescue at least children from the wild Nazi beast? A world of fathers and mothers! Children just like yours, Little boys and girls, sweet and dear, Dark-haired, blond, light-haired heads, Some with short hair, others with long tresses , With tentative dimples in their little cheeks, Laughing eyes, as blue as the sea, That shined with the light of the Garden of Eden. They wore the same clothes your children wear, Played and fought like your children do. Did this disturb or upset the world, That they took [the children] of others? Was this a great sin To be born and become a Jewish child?

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Oh! This Devil's Play ended only too soon, The humanitarian feeling awakened too late, A sigh and a tear went astray, much too late – The regret expressed by the world no longer comforts. Because the air above resounds with the sound of bullets, Over the ground that swallowed up six million. Brothers and sisters, as long as we live – Never forget, never forgive! Revenge will ignite your skin with flames, Until the Nazi Mother will be punished with shame! The sacred souls of little children command us: Remember Forever! They demand: Revenge, Revenge, do not forgive, Not to Forgive!

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