[Page 161]

To the best of my memory we “lived” under the horrific rule of the Germans for almost 3 weeks until the day of our expulsion across the [river] San on the festival of Sukkot 1939. At first, with the entry of the army– around 10 days before Rosh Hashanah– we entertained the hope that “the demon is not so dreadful”. A “curfew” was declared, afterwards the Jews were ordered to assemble in the market square. They were searched, questioned about possession of weapons, photographed and released to their homes. Many of the army's officers even took lodgings in the Jews' houses (at the Domb family home in the “rynek” [town square] and others) and a few of them even warned their “hosts” of tribulations from the Gestapo [death] squad, that was to arrive in the town following the army. In accordance with the system of sadism, provocation and humiliation of the Jews' feelings, the Gestapo chose, apparently, also in our town, Rosh Hashanah as the day of their arrival. They raided the three prayer houses that were side by side, but mainly the “Shul” [synagogue] that stood in the center, between the study–hall and the “Kloiz” [privately owned study–hall]. In the spacious “Shul” there were a few hundred Jewish refugees among the worshipers. It was in the afternoon during Mincha [afternoon service, usually held before sundown], when they ousted from there the entire congregation and drove them to the area next to the “szkoła” (Government School), [and] they lined them up (among them was also my brother, Berl).

From there they transported all those gathered out of the town and in half an hour brought them back to the area next to the school. Of course we could not envisage the Gestapo men's satanical plans. Some said, that they did not wish to harm the wretched in [broad] daylight… (The innocence inherent in our blood, will surely provide a subject for future in–depth research).

The next day there were already versions among us that the transport of the Jews in the direction of Zurawiec–Kalirifka [a forest] and their return to town was not for a satanical game's sake, but to point out the transported Jews to a group of non–Jews there, who were ordered to prepare open graves for the Jews in the evening. To those returned to the “szkoła” the Gestapo members added some other tens of Jews, who were seized from their homes.

It is important to note that Beila Ber, who worked as a nurse in the temporary hospital in a wing of the “szkoła” building (before the war she was a medical student at university), used her position and passed by many homes to report the occurrences and warn the men to hide themselves. In that critical hour Beila saved from death many of our townspeople.

A few youths were “chosen” by the Gestapo for cleaning services, shining shoes, boots etc. And thus some of them, like my brother Berl, Meir Shenker and others, were able to escape. Chantche Reichman–Kase's (the sister of Yitzhak Kase) husband and her son David were killed next to the “szkoła”, when attempting to flee from the lines of the condemned. In the evening 

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all the detainees that were next to the “szkoła” were transported to “Zurawiec” and there shot to death by the graves. Of them, two were saved by coincidence and they are: Yaakov Hersch Gutman and the son of Menashe the melamed [teacher in boys' religious school]. This was known only the next day, the second day of Rosh Hashanah. But on the first day of Rosh Hashanah, on which the Jews were rounded up and in the evening driven to slaughter, the relatives of the wretched did not imagine that that was what had occurred. Everyone in town believed that their dear ones had been transported somewhere for forced labor.

Even when that same evening, at the end of the first day of Rosh Hashanah, the Gestapo men set fire to the “Shul” (I don't know what happened to the two other prayer houses next to it) and the flames of the blaze lit up the entire area of our town, – even then no one imagined that indeed a dreadful slaughter had been carried out on those transported to an unknown location…As aforesaid, only the next day the truth was known. At the time the “Shul” was burnt there were already Torah scrolls scattered in the nearby alleys and thus we saw them on the next day, laying there trampled and torn. Into the flames of the blazing “Shul” the Gestapo men hurled Rogel, our neighbor.

Obviously, on the second day of Rosh Hashanah and even on Yom Kippur no more prayers were conducted in public. I remember the prayer–service of a few neighbors on “Kol Nidrei” night in a hidden attic at the house of Leml Silber. Rumors were spread that the Gestapo unit left our town two or three days after Rosh Hashanah, to carry out the labor of destruction and death in the neighboring towns. In the ten days leading up to the festival of Sukkot, there was almost a “respite”. Even the crying and wailing for the victims were as if choked. Unsuccessfully, ways were sought to bring the murdered to a Jewish grave. German army men visited here and there in Jewish houses to acquire some spoils, they perambulated as in a no man's land. They entered our apartment as well, upon understanding that it was a watchmaker's apartment (there were already various reasons to fear taking down the modest sign outside) and they took the watch off my wrist and the German “order” soldiers went on their way. I stole to our neighbors' apartment– the Schechter family, there also lived a watchmaker– the husband of Chaytche Schechter– to warn them. I also found there Yente Schechter and her husband Itche Flekel– pale and trembling with fear.

In the days between the slaughter on Rosh Hashanah and the first days of the festival of Sukkot, part of the Jews in Dynow, especially the younger, were able to escape crossing the San. Those were days of abuse and humiliation, but without killings. Jews were taken from their homes to perform diverse duties. From our apartment window I saw how the Germans forced Reb Yeshaia Schochet with a broom in his hand, to sweep the “Kaiserweg” [emperor's way]. Among the escapees were my brother Berl and also Hersch–Meilech Lisner, of whom was said that he was “liked” by a Gestapo officer who “adopted” him for his personal services. We never were able to find out what eventually happened to him.

On the day of the expulsion the Jews were ordered to assemble next to the courthouse for registration and the crowd filled the street up to the corner of the Jahre [surname] house and the “posterunek” (police station) and was guarded mainly by Ukrainians. Before leaving home I was able to hide well in my family's clothes a number of watches and gold jewelry that “helped” us more than once in times of trouble.  

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The assembled were no longer allowed to return to their homes. Suddenly shots fired in the air were heard and a great panic arose, but the Germans among the expulsion unit calmed us for some reason saying that all they were going to do is banish us to the eastern bank of the San. Upon reaching the riverbank the Germans allowed the women and children to cross the water on a ferry but ordered the men to cross the river in their clothes. Now and then shots echoed and the expelled crowd lay on the ground. In the turmoil also some children were lost.

From the village Bartkowka, on the other side of the San, we wandered to Jawornik Ruski, where many Jewish refugees congregated, probably in belief that in the name of the town there was a chance of rescue by the Soviet forces, which arrived after 3–4 days.

On the day that the Germans entered our town Dynow, at the beginning of September 1939, I was still a girl and a pupil at the “Beis Yaakov” school, but the shock and fear that dominated my parents, of blessed memory, and our whole family were imprinted deeply into my heart and their memory accompanies me until this day that I am already, thank God, a grandmother to granddaughters in the land of Israel.

It was a bright day at the end of summer, when people were about to go out each one to their respective occupations, unwilling to succumb to the tension that already prevailed in the air since the onslaught of Hitler's army on Poland. A bright but extremely sad day, when the sound of motorcycles was heard and a tumult in the street: The Germans had arrived. A deep and depressing fear grasped the town's Jews, and even the children among them. Everything turned suddenly still, they retreated furtively to hiding places. After a few days, other German soldiers appeared with different uniforms and it was said of them that they were the “Gestapo”. These broke into our homes and dragged out around thirty men, all refugees from the region. And among them also my father Moshe, of blessed memory. We heard that they were all, together with other captives from the nearby houses, lined up next to the school, with their hands raised the whole time, until they were loaded on trucks. Since then I have not seen my dear father.

We passed through the seven circles of hell, together with our mother and little brothers, wandering for long distances and [suffering] countless hardships.

We were privileged to arrive in the independent land of Israel, the land for which yearned in their prayers my grandfather, Reb Aryeh Ringel and great–grandfather, Reb Henech, of blessed memory. They both had the privilege to arrive in Israel and be buried on the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem. They are buried side by side, as even “in their death they were not divided” [2 Samuel 1:23]. 

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Many refugees arrived in our town Dynow, fleeing from the terror of the Nazi oppressors. For some reason, they believed that this town wasn't on the map and that the Germans would not reach it…

But the bitter reality struck them in their faces and they were forced here too, in Dynow, to share with the local Jews their bitter destiny.

The worst horror took place on the second day of Rosh Hashanah. The Nazis rounded up most of the Jews, from the synagogue and the houses, lined them up in long lines, with their faces to the walls of the houses and their hands raised, guarded by Gestapo men. That day they murdered hundreds of Jews.

At night they set fire to the synagogue and the flames reached the sky. They threw two live Jews into the fire. The entire town seemed ablaze.

The night of horrors cast a mortal fear on everyone. In the morning non–Jews came and told, that with their own eyes they had seen the Germans execute Jews in the Zurawiec woods. The truth is, that they were not believed, because the Jews in question were taken to “work” …I myself found it then hard to believe the report about the murdering of the Jews. Then [someone] came to me and told me that they had shot my mother. With extraordinary effort, somehow, I made my way home and found my mother safe and sound. In that moment, I found out our shop had been looted.

Part of the Jews were saved from this first hunt by finding concealment in attics.

My heart aches, that the flower of youth, including all my close friends and those of my sister Genia, perished in this holocaust. Till this day we do not know how it happened and where.

Even the way to “salvation” was drenched with unbearable suffering. The women and children were allowed to cross to the other side of the river “San” on a ferry, whilst the men were forced to go into the river fully clothed and cross it. The clothes soaked up much water and due to their heaviness pulled the men down and under. It was clear to everyone that those who were saved– would only be by a miracle.

At that same moment the windows of heaven were opened [Genesis 7:11] and rain drenched us all. As if weeping for us on our way to the unknown.

From afar the echoes of the gunshots reached us. We crossed the “San” near the village Bartkowka and from there we got, with our last strength, to Ruski Jawornik [Jawornik Ruski]. A noble Jew, named Shmuel Metz, came to our help and lodged us in a barn. He also provided us with water and potatoes.

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It is impossible for me to forget the events at the end of 1939, when the Nazis, may their name be obliterated, entered our town Dynow. I was a small girl. Our house stood in an elegant quarter, near the “Sokół” [gymnasium]. From that day – the terrors of fear are still with me to this very day.

I remember that many relatives came to us, refugees from neighboring villages, and our apartment was very crowded. Suddenly a rumor was heard in town that the Germans were going from house to house and rounding up all the men and grown boys – for work, allegedly.

My mother, of blessed memory, gathered all the men into an inner room and went out with me to the entrance room. Suddenly, a German officer and a soldier entered and asked my mother: “Where is your husband?” My mother did not respond. And then he asked: at the synagogue? And she said: yes.

Afterwards we heard about the first catastrophe that hit our town. All the men gathered by the Nazis, around 280, were taken out of town and all shot. After that they set fire to the synagogue and burnt it.

According to what my father Reb Yitzhak Krischer reported, it happened that on the first day of Rosh Hashanah, when Reb Mordche Ehrlich was acting as cantor and praying with bitter tears, a German officer burst in and asked: “What's that dog barking?” Then they explained to him that it was Rosh Hashanah and that they were praying. Then he said it would be the last Rosh Hashanah. The service was immediately stopped and all the worshipers were sent home.

The tribulations of the deportation, around two weeks after the massacre, are hard to write about – it seems like a nightmare. But nevertheless, the memories run inside the mind and get mixed with the other terrors of the war.

It was one day before noon, when it was announced in town, that all the townspeople were to assemble in the town square – the “rynek” – to receive orders. The people, in their innocence, believed that that was indeed the reason for the gathering and took nothing with them. How great our tragedy was when they did not allow us back into our homes and drove us like a herd of animals to the river San, and German soldiers escorting us with weapons in their hands shooting whomever attempted to escape. On the river bank the women and children were put on a ferry. The older boys and men were made to cross the river to the other side – the Russian–held area.

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This list was given to us by Mrs. Felicia Passal, who was a resident of the town Krosno – west from Dynow – at the time the Germans invaded the region in September 1939. This is a live testimony of the failure to escape of hundreds of Jews from the region who “infiltrated” Dynow because of its proximity to the river “San” that crossed both conquered areas in Galicia. The German beast reached those fleeing for their souls. May God avenge their blood.

In the first days after the German army entered Krosno, in Galicia, a great number of Jews left town and joined another large local group and they moved to Dynow. The goal was: to cross the San, to reach the other side, there the Russians were in control. In this group was also my husband. Upon arrival in Dynow they were seized by the Gestapo, loaded on trucks and were transported to the woods not far from town, there they were murdered with automatic rifles – the wretched were forced beforehand to dig their own graves.

All this I heard from a Jew who was not shot to death and succeeded – after the Germans finished their murderous task and left – to get out of the grave and escape. A few Jews, including also my husband, hid in the attic of one of the houses and miraculously, despite being sought for – were saved.

That night my husband returned home and when he saw what had happened he asked me to flee together with the two children and to try to cross the border into Russia.

I did not understand and did not believe that the Germans intended to annihilate all the Jews, including women and children. At that time German soldiers still visited the Jewish cafes and furthermore – I still lived in my warm home. There was still food left and I was afraid that in Russia, in the cold winter, it would be dangerous to be with the children as refugees. Therefore, it was my opinion that the men should flee, as for them it would be safer, while I would remain at home. I was stubborn and did not want to go.

My husband left home early, again with a group of other Jews, and crossed the river San safely. But he was captured on the Russian side under suspicion of espionage and as a “bourgeois” (perhaps they thought him so because of the fur coat he wore and also having a gold watch in his possession). He was transferred to Lvov, to the Brygidki prison. I never saw him since.

[Page 170]

Helena Trachtman from Brzozow, born in 1909, appeared together with her husband, Dr. Trachtman in Yad Vashem in 1946, after arriving to the country, and gave information regarding the mission to move the bodies of Jewish murdered victims to a Jewish grave, which she initiated and she also bore the great expenses involved. When examining her testimony, it was found that most of the bodies identified and brought to a Jewish grave were from Dynow and the neighboring towns.

And this is her story–testimony:

Her place of residence was, before the second world war, Katowice. In October 1939 she arrived in Brzozow in order to be together with her father. But she discovered that he had traveled to Dynow to supervise over a deal of the purchase of hides, on behalf of the local government. She traveled to Dynow to seek him – but all traces of him disappeared. On her quest, Mrs. Trachtman arrived in Krakow and met there with friends of the Pole Kapiszewski, who was secretary to the “voivode” (district governor) Garczynski in Krakow before the war. Those were already working in service of the “Gestapo”, but they offered their help in her searches for her father. Messengers were sent to all the employment offices (Arbeitsamt) and they asked for details on what had happened to her lost father.

No answer was given to all those queries. In the meantime, information reached Mrs. Trachtman from peasants from the Dynow area, that her father was identified when he was transported by the Germans together with the local Jews.

At that moment she received an official communication from the Gestapo in Krakow, that it is not possible to find her father in any of the work camps, but it is known to them that the Obersturmführer [senior assault leader] of the S.S., Haselberger, carried out mass executions on the lines of the towns Rzeszow, Dynow, Przemyśl and Dubiecko. It may be assumed, in their opinion, that Helena Trachtman's father was among the executed. In that same communication they offered she come to the Gestapo in Krakow, in order to receive a license to exhume bodies from mass graves, where the murdered were buried, so as to perhaps find her father's body.

When Mrs. Trachtman arrived in Krakow it was made clear to her that she would be received for an appointment with Governor–general Frank, as he was the only one authorized to grant her such license. So, indeed, for the sum of $10000 that she gave to Frank, she received from him a letter to the heads of the Gestapo in Sanok, in which they are asked to permit the bearer of the letter to open the graves and transfer the bodies to a Jewish burial. In April 1941 she received a letter on the same subject from the Gestapo in Sanok to the mayor of Dynow ordering that he allow Mrs. Trachtman to recruit 100 Jewish workers

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to this purpose. She sent messengers to various Judenräte [Jewish councils in Nazi occupied territory] in the area, to find her Jewish workers, who may identify family members among the murdered.

After her petition there appeared workers from Dukla, Rzeszow, Krosno and Tarnow. For the transfer of the bodies Mrs. Trachtman prepared tin crates and wooden coffins, 200 sheets and also many taleisim [prayer shawls]. She also prepared 3 barrels of alcohol for disinfection and a few trucks for transportation of the bodies to the cemetery. The operation was carried out in May 1940 and she spent on it the sum of $7000.

She then brought in the pharmacist from Sanok, Kazimir Eisenbach, who took samples from the clothes of the dead for purposes of identification and to conserve the samples. The box with the marked samples Mrs. Trachtman received in her hands and with the collusion of the mission, buried in the cemetery.

The bodies of the murdered were found in a number of pits, some in the woods and some on church–owned land. It should be noted, that a priest demanded compensation from Mrs. Trachtman for the damage done…

Despite meticulous searches, she did not find her father's body in the beginning. In her hour of need she turned to the Rebbe Teitelbaum from Jawornik, and when she stood already at the gates of despair, a special messenger came to her from the Rabbi with a promise from him that her father's body would be found. Eventually, near the end of the searches, her father's body was found.

Thus were transported 167 bodies of the martyrs, who were murdered in Dynow by the Nazis, immediately upon arrival in town, to a Jewish grave in the Dynow cemetery. A precise list has been made of those buried, noting identifying signs, for the victims' relatives everywhere. A second list was about to be made, in 1941, according to the identifying plaques on each grave, but they were forced to abandon the project due to the opposition and threats from the mayor, that if she did not leave the cemetery – he would shoot her.

Mrs. Trachtman had thought to open the graves in Dubiecko, there were found, according to her knowledge, also the bodies of the Lischner brothers, friends of her family, and even paid for the work to done but was forced to abandon the matter and flee. The Poles in Dynow sent a denouncing letter to the S.S. saying that “a Jewess is opening graves and endangering public health” …

The list of the victims murdered in Dynow on 15/09/1939 and who were buried during the days 15–18 May, 1940, in the Jewish cemetery in Dynow

Row 1, grave1:	Yehoshua Schweitzer from Sanok, identified by his son and daughter
grave 2:	Yaakov Netzner from Dukla, identified by Helena Trachtman from Brzozow
grave 3:	Abraham Markus Zenger from Frysztak, identified by his son
grave 4:	Yehoshua Mendel Frankfurt from Wiśniowa, identified by documents on body 5–8 unidentified
grave 9:	Mendel David Lerner from Dubiecko, according to military certificates

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grave 10:	Abraham Shapira from Rzeszow, identified by his son
grave 12:	Natan Kopito from Krosno, identified by Yaakov Just and Solomon Schie from Krosno
grave 14:	Schie Wilk from Dynow, identified by Yitzhak Rein
grave 15:	Hersch Itche Zeiger from Dynow, identified by certificates in clothes
grave 16:	Manes Teper from Dynow, identified by Isaac from Dynow
grave 17:	Abraham Isaac Meinhart from Nowy Sącz, identified by municipal document in his clothes
grave 22:	Yaakov Isaac Langer from Nowy Sącz, identified by military certificate
grave 23:	Roman Zwetschkenstiel, from Krynica identified by certificates in their clothes
grave 24:	Abraham Mandel, from Krynica
grave 25:	Mendel Faber from Muszyna, identified by certificate
grave 27:	Israel Wagner from Dynow, identified by Isaac Rein In his clothes was a telegram, according to which he was postponing his son's wedding
grave 28:	Noylen Chaim from Bobowa, identified by certificates in clothes
grave 29:	Natan Wilner from Brzozow, identified by his son Leib and Mrs. Fradel from Krosno
Row 2, grave 2:	Heiferling Abraham Chaim from Krosno, identified by his brother Leib
grave 3:	Naftali Fisch from Dynow, identified by military ledger
grave 4:	Anshel Pasternak from Krosno, identified by his father
grave 5:	Wolf Reich from Dynow, identified by a relative
grave 15:	Meilech Rimer from Dynow, identified by Itche Rein
grave 21:	Pinchas Tewel from Dynow, identified by Itche Rein
grave 24:	Mendel Fisch from Dynow, identified by Itche Rein
grave 27:	Lipa König from Dynow, identified by documents in his clothes
grave 28:	Ben–Tzion Trachtman from Brzozow, identified by his daughter Helena
Row 3, grave 5:	Hersch Rein from Dynow, identified by his brother Itche Rein
grave 7:	Israel Lemberg from Dynow, identified by identity card found
grave 13:	Feivel Schönbach from Dynow, identified by Itche Rein
grave 14:	Moshe Baum from Dynow, identified by documents in his clothes
grave 18:	Pinchas Schechter from Dynow, identified by documents in his clothes
grave 20:	Leibish Rinmel, the Dynow porter, was identified by Itche and Lemel Rein
Row 4, grave 4:	Abraham Meilech Berman from Görlitz, identified by documents in his clothes
grave 5:	David Rubin from Görlitz, identified by his sister
grave 11:	Israel Wasserman from Dynow, identified by documents in his clothes Leibish Grossman from Dynow, identified by monogram on his clothes Yehoshua Rosenbaum from Dynow, identified by documents in his clothes Itzik Jahre from Dynow, identified by his family

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Row 5, grave 5:	Hersch Puretz from Dynow, identified by Itche Rein
grave 7:	Meir Berkowitz from Dynow, identified by documents in his clothes
grave 9:	Hersch Brenner from Dynow, identified by Itche Rein
grave 11:	Simcha Tisser from Dubiecko, Moshe Meir Frandel from Jasło, identified by identity card in his clothes
Row 6, grave 7:	Brunengarber from Dynow, the dentist (half deaf–mute), identified by documents in his clothes Isaac Reiss from Dynow, identified by documents in his clothes

- – – We were ordered to assemble in the city square (the “rynek”), to receive “instructions”. We were naïve – we left home without taking anything with us. To our disaster, they did not allow us to return there anymore. They transported us to the San river and forced us to cross it, to the Russian side. – – –

- – – Immediately upon entering the town, the Germans remarked: “There are so many Jews here” …After just a few hours a unit of soldiers arrived and “gathered” the Jews, amongst them my father, David Hillman, of blessed memory. They loaded them all on trucks and transported them to a grove.

The cries of “Shema Yisrael” reached the house, mingled with the echoes of the shots – – –

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