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				CHAPTER XVII:
			
			 
			
				How the cantor-ritual slaughterer and his family survived
			
		
		  Prior to the massacre, our experiences were the same as everyone
		else's. But
		when word came that there would be mass murders, we began to look for a way to
		save ourselves because older people and those who had no trades were in great
		danger. We made a hiding place in our house; and as soon as the killers came,
		we went in there. Our neighbor Rabbi YASALEWSKI knew that we had no intention
		of going to the marketplace; and when the massacre began--in which he
		perished--he tapped on our window. He had come to say goodbye. He kissed me and
		went off. In the same way, a few days before, Rabbi TSIPKOWICZ, who was
		expecting the massacre any day, said goodbye to us.
		
		  During the massacre in which they died, we remained in our hiding
		place. There
		twenty-eight of us: Our family; Zaydl BOYARSKY and family; Isaac WILANSKI and
		family; and some families from Divenishak. While we were hidden, the Nazis went
		looking for victims. They suspected that we were in hiding, but couldn't find
		us. Some of us thought we had time to run out to the courtyard, which was not
		far from the marketplace, where everybody was lying on the ground face down.
		The others, who were in the majority, decided not to go; and so, nobody went.
		We stayed where we were; those who had been outside, ready to join the other
		Jews in the marketplace, came back inside. The bandits left. From our hiding
		place we could hear the shouts and the shooting. We stayed hidden all day until
		the slaughter was over.
		
		  Our next-door neighbor was Dr. GORDON, who had come to Woronowa
		together with
		all the other Jews from Dzvenishke. At first, he had wanted to join us in the
		hiding place (bunker) but then he decided to go to the marketplace. He
		survived, came back and tapped on the wall of our bunker, telling us that all
		the survivors had been registered; and he had been able to put our names on the
		list. He urged us to go out quickly and join the other Jews. At first, we
		didn't answer because we didn't believe he was really Dr. GORDON. We were
		convinced it was a stool pigeon who wanted to kill us or get us killed. Then,
		Dr. GORDON returned; and this time, we recognized his voice. He began to yell
		at us--why were we sitting there?--so we all came out of the bunker and went to
		the marketplace and sat down among the survivors. Then, we were all driven to
		the "new place" in a ghetto, and several days later transported to
		the Lida ghetto.
		
		  As soon as we got to Lida we were put to work at very hard jobs.
		Although we
		came home from work totally exhausted our neighbors and we set about digging a
		new bunker underground. We used to dig all night, and then carry the earth
		outside so that nobody should suspect anything. It took us two months to finish
		the bunker. At the slightest hubbub in the ghetto we would rush to our hiding
		place. We were in the Lida ghetto 16 months, and every single night someone
		would take over the watch, in case the killers appeared. One morning, at about
		5 A.M. we noticed that the SS surrounded the ghetto; and we knew that something
		was up. Shortly, we found out that everyone must pack up his valuables because
		we would be sent to Lublin to work. We didn't believe them; and fifteen of us
		hid in the bunker. All the Jews were taken from the ghetto to Maidanek and the
		crematorium. The fifteen of us lay in the underground bunker for six whole
		days, without bread, without water; many of us passed out, lay unconscious; and
		there was nothing we could do to help them.
		
		  Lying under the ground, we could hear the footsteps of the killers
		walking
		around and looking for us, for many bunkers had been discovered; and everyone
		was shot on the spot. After the sixth night, we decided to sneak out and try to
		escape. No matter what happened, we must get away because we knew that either
		we would be found and killed or we would starve to death or die of thirst in
		the bunker. On a dark, rainy night, we left the bunker and started to walk,
		feeling our way in the blackness. We reached the barbed wire fence that
		surrounded the ghetto. Because of the rain, there were fewer sentries than
		usual. We crawled through the barbed wire, cutting our hands and tearing our
		clothing. Our family was separated by the darkness. I had two children with me;
		and my wife had two children.  We began to run, not knowing where we were
		going. The sentries' searchlights began to criss-cross the area. When they saw
		us walking they began to shoot, but the bullets misfired. We wandered about in
		the marshes, hoping to find each other, and almost collided with the guards. We
		lay quietly, hoping the guards would leave and we could proceed. Seeing that it
		was almost daylight, and we might be spotted, we decided to make a getaway.
		Crawling on our stomachs we came to the Jewish cemetery. Not far away was a
		sentry. When he saw us he started to shoot, but the bullets did not hit us,
		they fell near us.
		
		  Thus crawling, we came to the house of a peasant we knew, who lived
		near the
		Regional Commissar. We went into the barn, and waited until someone came to
		feed the animals, and we would beg them to let us spend the night in the barn.
		Several hours later they came into the barn. We were shivering so with cold
		that we couldn't talk. By means of sign language and using our hands, we asked
		for warm food. They brought it, and told us to climb up the ladder to the top
		of the barn. Then they took away the ladder, and warned us to be very careful.
		We expected to stay the night but as soon as darkness fell they ran in and
		ordered us to leave immediately, because they were afraid the place would be
		searched and if Jews were found they would be in trouble. We had no place to
		go, so we decided to remain near the barn, and what would be would be. We had
		given them all the money we had, but it didn't help. They pointed in the
		direction of the forest and told us to go there. We dragged ourselves over to a
		tree; and there, huddled together, and shivering from cold, we waited for
		daylight, when we would be able to see where we were going.
		
		  When daylight came, we went into the forest and started wandering
		about
		aimlessly. After a whole day, we thought we were far from the town by now, but
		actually it was only three kilometers away. We decided to take the highway; and
		so, I walked with my two children; all the passersby stared at us. We walked
		for six days looking for the partisans. On the eve of Rosh Hashonah, my wife
		and the two children and I with the two children found one another. The
		BIELITSKI family had been with my wife all this time; and so we stayed
		together. On the way we met up with other Jews. After walking for ten nights,
		because we had to hide in the daytime, we arrived in Naliboki where there was a
		partisan group of 1200 Jews with a Jewish commander BELSE. In the group, there
		were several women and children from the neighborhood. We stayed with them for
		ten months. We were naked and barefoot, often hungry and frequently frightened
		because the German planes used to bomb the forest; and there were many raids in
		search of partisans. We lived in hovels in the ground with forty men in each.
		Each of us had three centimeters of place to sleep.
		
		  One morning the Russians liberated us. Eleven days before, the
		Germans attacked
		us and 9 Jews were shot to death. Even after liberation, we were in great
		danger and endured much suffering. The Germans were still everywhere; and the
		White Poles had come to Woronowa. When we arrived at the marketplace in
		Woronowa, we didn't see a single Jew and had no place to go. The Gentiles
		occupied all the former Jewish homes; and none of them would let us in. Several
		days later, some more Jews arrived; and we remained there for a year. Then we
		all went to Poland, with the idea of going from there to Palestine. Today, we
		are still in the Camps in Austria. I have put down my experiences in brief
		because to go into detail, one could write many books.
		
		
		
		
		
		
			
				CHAPTER XVIII:
			
			 
			
				Full list of Woronowa Landsleit who survived
			
		
		
			
				
				
					
					
					| 
						
						
						Aaron KALMANOWICZ, now in Shanghai
						
					 | 
				
				
					
					| 
						
						
						Abraham BELITSKI, wife Bashe, son Hirsh Yidl
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Abraham Isaac OLKENITSKI
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Alte KALMANOWICZ, daughter Bat Sheva married last year and Husband Rabinowicz
						from Slonim
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Baruch GORBATSKI , son of HIRSH PERES, recently married, wife Mariashe and
						daughter
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Benjamin ARKIN Child of Aaron DOYNEVE
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Benjamin DUKSTKILSKI
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Berl EISHISHKI, son of Shloyme JOSEPH
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Berl HEIFETZ
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Berl LEVINE , son of Layer Hirsh
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Berl OLKENITSKI , son of Pesach
						
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Eliahu BLACHER , son-in-law of Chaim OLKENITSKI, wife Bayle, daughter Rose
						born	in camp
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Gottlieb LEVINE
						
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Gutl EISHISHKI, son of Chatskl Shloyme JOSEPH
						
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Itte HEIFETZ recently married, husband and son
						
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Jacob OLKENITSKI
						
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Joel HEIFETZ
						
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Joseph GERSHONOWICZ , son of Moshe MENUCHAH
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Leib TROTSKY, son of Alter., recently married
						
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Liebe S'TNITSKI, daughter of slain Isaac BIENUNSKI
						
						
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Meyer OLKENITSKI
						
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Moshe BERKOWITCH, wife Rashe, son Eliezer
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Moshe BIENUNSKI
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Pesach ARKIN Child of Aaron DOYNEVE
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Rachel PUPKO, daughter of Joseph PUPKO
						
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Reuben ARKIN Child of Aaron DOYNEVE
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Shmuel BIENUNSKI
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Sholem LISAGURSKI, wife Kayle, son Jacob, son Melach. born in camp
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Yekusiel BOYARSKI
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Abraham Eliahu KAPLAN, son of Joseph OLEKUTSES, wife and two sons
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Abraham KAPLAN
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Asher KAPLAN, wife
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Bashe PUPKO daughter of Rachmiel and her husband and three children
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Chaye Leah WOLPIANSKI, son Antosh
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						David LIPNISKI, son of Chatskl
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Hanan FINKELSTEIN
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Henoch KAPELOWITCH
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Hirsh FINKELSTEIN
						
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Hirsh LEVITOVITSCH , son of Henoch
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Isaac TSVILANSKI , son of Velvl, recently married, wife Elke, daughter
						
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Jacob KANICHOWSKI, son of Gottlieb
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Jacob TSVILANSKI , son of Abraham Eliahu
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Layb FINKELSTEIN, Wife
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Layzer DRUSKENITSKI, son of Motl
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Liebe SHITNITSKI, daughter of slain Isaac BIENUNSKI
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Liebe ROTMAN dtr. Of Merke MINNES, recently married and her husband
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Meyer KAPLAN, wife Sara, daughter Rayzl, other daughter born in camp
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Moshe KAPLAN
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Naftoli KAMENTSCHKI, Itse the Kavssnik's grand son
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Nehama ABRAMOWITSCH, Zishle's Dtr., and daughter Chaye
						
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Rabbi Moshe PLOTNIK, wife and daughter Ester Malke PLOTNIK
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Saul KAPLAN, son of Note Eliahu
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Shimcha SALTSCHANSKI , son of Pesse BREINE
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Shloyme PUPKO, wife and two sons
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Shmuel KAPLOWITCH
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Sholom BOLTERISKI from Kuzye
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Simon LEVINE, son of Eliahu, recently married, and his wife and son
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Velvke KAPLAN, son of Benj. ELEKUTSCH, wife and daughter
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						wife Sara, daughter Rayzl, another daughter born in Camp
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Yehuda KANAPKAN, cantor and ritual slaughterer, and wife, daughter Rebecca,
						daughter Minna, daughter Henye, daughter Shaindl
					 | 
					
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Esther Malke Plotnik, husband and son
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						
						Zalmen DUKSTKULSKI, recently married, and wife and  son
					 | 
					
				
			
		
		
		
			
				A list of those who perished after the war:
			
			
			
				
					| 
						1) Leybke KAPLAN (son of Joseph ELEKUTSCH)
					 | 
				
				
					| 
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						2) Isaac BIENUNSKI (On the Polish border)
					 | 
				
				
					| 
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						3) Isaac BIENUNSKI's wife
					 | 
				
				
					| 
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						4) Daniel OLKENITSKI (Koenigsberg Front)
					 | 
				
				
					| 
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						5) Isser PUPKO (by bandits in Woronowa)
					 | 
				
				
					| 
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						6) Chayml BLIACHER (six years-old. Fell sick among the partisans)
					 | 
				
			
			
			
		
		
		
		
			
				The following are in Russia:
			
			
				
					| 
						1) Baruch GORODETSKI
						
					 | 
				
				
					| 
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						2) Bashe PUPKO
					 | 
				
				
					| 
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						3) Sholom BALTERISKI
					 | 
				
				
					| 
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						4) Simcha SOLTCHANSKI
					 | 
				
			
		
		
		
		
		
		
		
			
				CHAPTER XIX:
			
			
				 Gone
			
			
				Simon Levine
				
				Facking Valdstadt
				
				(Dedicated to the Jews of Woronowa)
			
		
		
		
		  Gone forever is my dearly beloved town of Woronowa, which extended
		all along
		the Lida highway, from Balechovsky's forest through the new Lida street with
		its old marketplace; and downhill along the Wilno Street, with its two twisted
		hills, which ran from the town to the Wilno highway. The hills stood on both
		sides of the highway, separating it, where our children played at war and
		soldiers. The highway in between was the place where the armies met, like David
		and Goliath the Philistine, whom each of the warlike Shloyme'lach and Chaim'kes
		wanted to emulate.
		
		
		  Surrounding the town was the old Balatsenke River, which had
		recently begun to
		run dry. The old mill was burned down by the Polish army in 1920 when they were
		fleeing the Bolsheviks and running toward the town bath. When the bath was
		being built, it created a lot of noise on Sabbath during prayers. The running
		stream also watered and filled the side of Bayle BREINE's house on the right
		and Shmuel HIRSH's on the left with mud. Adamanish the Gentile used to set his
		big dogs on the Jewish children who often ran through his fields on their way
		from Cheder. These were the fields that their fathers had leased to plant
		potatoes for themselves and their livestock, which would feed them a whole
		year. Cattle used to graze on the muddy lawns, day and night. The drivers
		couldn't sleep, so they sat and told each other ancient tales of wonder and
		fantasy, about devils which are still hiding out in the muddy fields and bushes
		opposite the bath, from which willow twigs would be gathered for Sukkoth. Jews
		believed God had planted the twigs only for them because they comprised 99% of
		the town's population. It was believed that the devils also occupied the old
		mill opposite Pinchas the shoemaker's house and who one night lured old Arieh
		Leib PUPKO to the forest, and didn't send him home until after midnight....
		
		
		  Gone are the mischievous young children who would run to the old
		whirlpool to
		swim on Saturday evening when their fathers the drivers were in shul. With wet
		pants and shirts, they would unharness the horses and ride into town with a big
		hubbub. [They] drove the Jews, dressed in their Sabbath apparel on their way
		home from evening prayers off the old bridge (or on their way home to Havdalah,
		close of Sabbath, over glasses brimful of warm fruit juice because they
		couldn't afford wine on their meager earnings.
		
		
		  On winter Sabbath evenings the same youngsters would accompany
		their fathers to
		the Talmud Torah, whose western wall bordered on the town cemetery. Here rested
		the world of the past, generation upon generation. The youngsters helped their
		fathers shout and chant the second part of the Psalms. Their fathers sat at the
		long table and poured out all their grief, about working hard and earning
		little; about their hardships and their travels to Wilno and Lida. The fathers
		grieved and dreamed of successful ventures, their heads resting on the long
		tables, the same tables at which just yesterday, it seemed, they themselves
		were studying the Bible with the old melamed Hirsh LEMELMAN. At the close, when
		the old sexton Ephraim lit up the darkness with his big lamp, Sabbath was
		officially over. Only the children remained, doing mischief, thinking up ways
		to tease the old Ephraim: pushing the pulpit away when he wanted the light the
		lamp, hiding the kindling when he went to light the fire, put his hand in the
		fire to scorch it, or concealing the paper tube with which old Ephraim
		extinguished the lamp in the synagogue. Ephraim would sometimes take advantage
		of his rights as sexton and exercise the privilege of the synagogue trustee
		Hirsh ITSE (Zvi Isaac HALEVI) who was a wise man and a sage, renowned as a
		scribe, especially for his beautiful Rosh Hashonah greetings and Yom Kippur
		blessings to every Jew in town. On every Rosh Hashonah card was a list of each
		recipient's aliyahs (call to read a Torah lesson in synagogue) paid for and
		unpaid. The total was couched in such a way that every Jew paid off his debts.
		It is not surprising that thanks to Hirsh ITSE the town was able to erect a
		handsome synagogue in 1923, where Ephraim was the head sexton and also enjoyed
		the rights of trustee, or warden!
		
		
		  Ephraim's chief opponent was Lipe the Old who was a native of
		Wilno. A
		pleasure-loving man, he resolved in his old age to be a penitent and observe
		all the mitzvahs by leading the congregation in prayers. One can't say that
		Lipe did not know the prayers. He used to imitate the cantor when he sang
		Kaddish on Sabbath eve, but Ephraim was annoyed. No one knows exactly why.
		Perhaps he was worried that Lipe said the prayers better than he; and he would
		be second in line. There was no need for him to be concerned, because his
		Havdalah was incomparable. The dispute between Ephraim and Lipe often led to
		arguments and abuse; they went so far as to tear each other's beards. Ephraim
		was short and Lipe was tall--they were natural opponents. Ephraim was often in
		Rabbi Moshe Lief LUSKI's house. If a woman came with a problem to be solved,
		i.e. she had found a needle in the gizzard of the chicken, and the rabbi was
		not there, Ephraim would hand down the verdict.
		
		
		  The town's rabbi was also the president of the Jewish People's Bank
		because
		then his salary was guaranteed. Generations passed; and new bank managers were
		appointed, young revolutionaries, who believed a city bank that gave small
		loans to poor artisans or drivers and even sellers of tar, is not obligated to
		support two rabbis and insisted that they both find other sources of income in
		the town. The bank changed its policy; and the new managers did not take
		salaries. The president was Berl LEVINE (Berl Eliahu, son of the tailor) and
		Arieh GURWITZ. Berl was a young, energetic, progressive artisan; and Arieh
		GURWITZ belonged to the so-called old proprietors. Thanks to the skill and
		ability of the young artisans,  the Peoples Bank and the Free Loan Society were
		placed on a firm foundation, giving great support to the townspeople and their
		needs. Berl LEVINE was the bank president and the Free Loan Society up until
		the war; he was a devoted communal leader. He worked at his job in the daytime
		and for the community at night. In 1943 Berl LEVINE perished, together with his
		family, in the liquidation of the Lida ghetto. He is remembered as one of the
		most progressive and wisest of the last Woronowa Mohicans.
		
		
		  Like other towns, Woronowa had its revolutionary and nationalist
		movements.
		From the 1905 underground groups to the post-war revolutionary year[s]
		1922-1930, where young men and girls, influenced by the communists, carried on
		fierce propaganda, urging the naive synagogue Jews to renounce their old ideas
		and help the revolution. It did not work. In recent years in Woronowa, there
		grew up a proud nationalistic youth movement, which sent many of their members
		to Palestine--to a Woronowa community of its own. It is natural that because
		there were many political parties there were many disputes. It began with
		discussion and elections and ended, as usual, on a large scale. All Zionist
		youth organizations demonstrated integrity and energy and developed
		intellectually. Woronowa had a large library, a first class folk school--which
		functioned until the last moment. The school developed and encouraged
		intellectual achievements; even though she did not provide much education, she
		stimulated learning, and the accumulation of knowledge.
		
		
		  The drama groups were always busy. Theatre-lovers produced many
		classical works
		of our greatest writers on the small, cramped stage. Although these productions
		were not first rate they stimulated many of the participants to higher, more
		artistic achievements. The initiators of the drama group and the actors
		included Chaim BERKOVSKY; the brothers Berl and Saul LEVINE; Samuel
		KATZENELENBOGEN; Berl and Henye OLKENITSKI, and others.
		
		
		  Woronowa Jews earned a living in various ways: artisans of all
		kinds,
		storekeepers of various kinds of merchandise. There were many impoverished Jews
		from good families who were proud of their heritage. In the later years, the
		Jewish community of Woronowa collectively purchased 90 acres of pasture land
		near Bulechowski's woods for the town's cattle. Many Jews bought land from the
		lord of the manor--Schwanback, on a long-term mortgage. The lord sold out his
		entire estate which bordered on the town. The land was bought with the aid of
		the FICO, which unfortunately banked large sums of money in other countries
		until war broke out because they wanted to stimulate agriculture among Jews. In
		our town, there was an increased interest in farming and gardening. These
		entrepreneurs made many plans for the future, unaware of the dark clouds that
		began to gather over their heads.
		
		
		  We do not know exactly when the town was founded but it was about
		400 years
		ago. This writer's family has lived here for 200 years. The history of Woronowa
		is closely linked with that of all towns and communities throughout Lithuania
		and White Russia. The tragic end of our era in Europe is not the first and
		perhaps not the last. This happened in Europe before. Perhaps not with the same
		tragic dimensions, but it did occur. The reason we settled in this particular
		town was probably because we were uprooted from another place. We should learn
		this from the past!
		
		
		  Gone! Nothing is left! Gone is my beloved little town and its
		surroundings.
		Gone are the old, bearded synagogue Jews; gone are the energetic, vivacious
		young people of all factions and ideologies. Gone is the town with its
		uniqueness; gone are all those whom I have mentioned. Not a trace of them!
		There has remained only a huge mass grave where rest almost all the Jews of
		Woronowa. It is near Belachovski's woods, walking along the new highway near
		Bicke's fields. It is almost certainly overgrown with tall grasses by now and
		covered with snow in winter, over which the town peasants, one Spring day, will
		go out to plow and sow. But Mother Earth will remain silent throughout
		eternity, and keep the secret about the bones of our nearest and dearest, whose
		lives ended so tragically.
		
		
		  A handful of us have remained, surviving by a miracle. Still living
		are our
		landsleit in America; our best brothers and sisters who live in our country,
		who will weave and forge and make a new life--the life of their families,
		parents, brothers and sisters in our own land.
		
		
		
		
		
		
			
				CHAPTER XX:
			
			
				 On that terrible night
			
		
		
		
			Sunday afternoon May 10, 1942.
			
			
		
		  The sun is shining, but its violet rays do not caress us as they
		always have in
		the past. It looks as though there will be an eclipse, and it seems as though
		the brightness, the radiant physiognomy of the sun, has on that day changed
		completely. In the last three days the Nazi monsters have annihilated a large
		number of Jewish communities in our region. Jews were massacred in Lida, Radun,
		Stutchin, Rozhanke, Zhettel, Zhaludak. Woronowa and Iviye were next in line.
		For the past three days our Woronowa has been surrounded. German SS and their
		faithful volunteer helpers, the Polish and Lithuanian police have blockaded the
		town; two circles hem it in--no entry and no exit. Into this large noose have
		been driven the few surviving Jews from the towns of Diveneshok, Soletchnik,
		Biniakan, Konvalishok, Bastun, Zeliana, Sokolei, as well as the refugees from
		Eishishok, Wilno, Kulienik, who had made their escape from the mass graves. The
		Jews from the communities in our region had long ago been eradicated.
		
		
		  Jewish men and women were forbidden to appear on the street, except
		for a half
		hour at noon to get water from the well. We sat in our homes and stared at one
		another. Our faces were nightmare- dark. We conferred on ways of sending a
		child or two children into the forest to be sheltered by a trustworthy Gentile
		until the horror is over. How can one bribe so many fiends? Won't they betray
		us?
		
		
		  Four families reached an understanding with the Polish guards and
		paid them a
		large sum of money to let them get through the barrier. But the refugees were
		all caught in the middle of the night and shot.  In the morning hours,we find
		corpses in the street. One woman had risked her life to bring food to her
		daughter and two children.  She had gone out in the early evening, wearing
		slippers to muffle her footsteps. The keen eye of the murderer saw her and shot
		her through the heart. Another woman went to get water from the well towards
		evening and was killed on the spot. A Jew went into the garden to relieve
		himself and was killed. A Jew from Lida hanged himself in the attic of a house.
		He didn't leave a note. Who would be there to read it? The Nazis drove several
		Jews to bury the corpses. They were put to rest in a garden, lightly covered
		with earth.
		
		
		  Life became senseless. Jews prayed for a quick death to release
		them from their
		suffering. Some families considered the possibility of setting fire to their
		homes before going to the massacre, hoping that in the ensuing panic some of
		them at least could save themselves by running away. Others resolved to resist
		and fight to the last. Neither the first nor the second plan was carried out.
		Every individual thought that he might survive, and in that case it did not pay
		to fight back. Large groups sat together, counting the hours. None ate, drank,
		or slept. We all waited for the catastrophe that tomorrow would bring. Evening.
		
		
		  We heard that Windisch, he Commissar of Lida, had driven into town
		with his
		staff and gone immediately to the Judenrat. A short time later we heard that
		Windisch had reassured the Judenrat, promising that only the old, sick and
		cripples would be shot. "In the meantime," he commanded, "within
		three hours you are to supply us with cloth for twenty-five men's suits;
		leather for forty pairs of boots; two thousand gold rubles. Hitler had issued a
		command that no more Jews were to be annihilated, because the Germans needed
		laborers for the war industry, as well as for civilian jobs."
		
		
		  We felt as though a great weight had been lifted from our
		shoulders. Some
		families kissed each other for joy. If only the aged, the sick and the crippled
		would be the victims, it meant only about thirty percent of the population of
		three thousand; it could have been worse.
		
		
		  "They are deceiving us. As it is, not a fingernail of ours will
		remain," stormed the fatalists, the wise ones.   Despite these warnings,
		the money and the articles the Nazis demanded were brought to them in two hours.
		
		
		  "Maybe God will take pity on us and there will be no blood
		bath."
		
		
		  All of Sunday night we stayed awake. The older Jews recited the
		Psalms and
		confessed their sins (said Vidde--confession made on Yom Kippur or before
		death.-A.F.) Older men and women adorned themselves in order to look younger,
		dressed up in their best clothes. The fathers trimmed their beards, hoping to
		be spared during the selection. Mothers put on face powder, combed their hair
		carefully, and tried to behave like young people. Deathly stillness hovered
		outside. Not a bird trilled; not a fly buzzed, not a frog croaked in the nearby
		pond. All the animals in the fields and gardens were silent. Not a sound was
		heard. A gentle breeze blew from the south. From time to time we heard shots,
		first from one side, then from the other, then the spasmodic cry of a victim,
		loud moaning, groans, and then again the eerie silence fell. The blood froze in
		our veins, pounded in our temples. Our hearts beat faster, wildly. What will
		happen to us? The sun set a long time ago.
		
		
		
		
		
		
			
				CHAPTER XXI: 
			
			 
			
				With the Partisans in the forest
			
		
		
		
			June 1943
		
		
		
		
		  The Nazi Oberkommando threw into battle six divisions of military:
		tanks,
		cannons, all kinds of ammunition  a powerfully armed enemy.  They were
		dispersed over a large area around us and some were in the forest.  The roads
		were blocked in three directions, except to the west.  They established bases
		from which they assaulted us day and night, with endless shooting forcing the
		partisans to move from one spot to another.
		
		
		  The partisans had no intention of confronting this formidable,
		armed force.
		Mostly we found refuge in the dense forest, in the vast, abandoned age-old
		swamps, where we stood day and night up to our knees in mud where man had not
		set foot since the creation of the world.
		
		
		  The endless thunder of cannon, bomb explosions, bullets and shots
		from various
		kinds of ammunition rent the skies and shook the earth.  The Germans were
		blowing up bridges and mills, burning barns filled with grain, wiping out
		village after village.
		
		
		  Their purpose was to destroy the partisans' food supply and cut off
		communication with the outside world, intending that the exhausted, hungry
		partisans would surrender.  German headquarters issued an order to annihilate
		all the partisans in their hideout. (Incidentally, a partisan was never taken
		prisoner.  He was gunned down on the spot.)
		
		
		  From time to time, a rumor broke through from the outside world,
		that for
		instance there were no more Jews left in Wilno except in "Kailis" and
		Pa Ke Pe, where they could be counted on the fingers of one hand.  The Jews
		from Novogrudke had been slaughtered, leaving a handful in the court building.
		There were no more Jews in Baranowicz and Bialystok, a remnant in Grodno, and
		the few left in Lida were being slowly eradicated by the daily Nazi attacks.
		
		
		  The young Gentiles from the ruined villages were being transported
		to Germany
		for slave labor; older ones, women and children were sent to the cities to tend
		cattle and horses.  All of this was being done in order that the partisans'
		link with the outside world should be broken.
		
		
		  We also heard that the Nazi armies had suffered tremendous reverses
		at the
		hands of the Allies on all fronts: a deathblow near Moscow, at the Ilumen (?)
		River; disastrous defeat in Stalingrad; overpowered in Tobruk.  On the Western
		Front the British and French were slashing the Nazi beast to ribbons.  The
		forest was inundated with Allied leaflets calling upon the partisans to fight
		the Nazis, for their end was imminent.
		
		
		  Our group had to keep a watchful eye on all four sides of our base,
		not to
		protect us from a sudden raid by the enemy, but against spies, traitors, and
		other blackguards, who for two kilos of salt, would willingly inform the
		Germans where the Jews were hiding.
		
		
		  Naturally, there frequently wandered into our camp all kinds of
		people: men,
		women, and entire families, on the pretext that they had gotten lost; or the
		women said they had gone to pick berries and mushrooms.  But their fate was
		sealed.  They could not get out. In cases like this the partisans could not
		tell who was honest and who was not, and for security's sake we kept them there.
		
		
		  Our camp was heavily defended on all four sides.  The first post
		was just
		outside the camp, where several comrades were always on guard.  A second post
		further away was named "Secret" watching out for spies, enemies and
		other perils.  During the dangerous days of the raids there was a third
		"Secret" at the edge of the camp, consisting of six or seven armed
		comrades about twenty kilometers from the base.
		
		
		  Our food supplies of bread, flour, barley, beans and potatoes had
		long ago been
		depleted.  We still had a ten to twelve day supply of wheat kernels, which our
		courageous comrades had seized, at great peril, from under German hands, from
		peasants' barns at the edge of the camp.  We still have a dozen cattle, which
		we slaughter and cook together with the corn kernels in our big kitchen.
		
		
		  The situation is catastrophic.  Nobody knows what tomorrow will
		bring.  After
		our dinner, which consists of about half a pound of meat and a tablespoon of
		wheat kernels per person, which our bellies find impossible to digest, we are
		called to a "general assembly" on the vast, grass-covered, treeless
		stretch in the middle of the forest.  Only men are called--the women and
		children stay behind.  We stand in straight rows, the commanders check our
		ammunition, we drill, and the sentries and guides are assigned their posts.
		This writer, and six more men, was assigned to the third post on the edge of
		camp.  We were told the watchword (used by partisan groups for several days at
		a time) of the moment and given strict orders to keep a sharp eye on the
		village of Niessif, which lies parallel to the Nieman river (a river that flows
		through White Russia and Lithuania).
		
		
		  The village was about three kilometers from the edge of the woods.
		We heard a
		rumor that German troops were about to occupy the Nieman and the village, and
		will attack the area where the nearest partisan camp is situated from the west.
		
		
		  While we were being given instructions about weapons, and supplied
		with food
		for two days, I had time to look around and observe my six companions.
		
		
		  The first member of our group was called KABAK--a clever, energetic
		young man.
		He talked slowly, chose his words, courageous, optimist, and about 26-27 years
		old, this native of Iviye near Wilno was able to infect us with his bravery.
		
		
		  RACHMAN, a young rabbi who had fled the ghetto,  God-fearing,
		devout, a great
		scholar, a native of Lithuania from a family of gaonim, full of faith.  If I am
		not mistaken he carried an automatic (a gun which could fire ten bullets in
		succession).  He had his own cooking pot for preparing milk, mushrooms and
		other vegetables.  Until the ritual slaughterer Yehuda of blessed memory came
		to the ghetto, he ate no meat.
		
		
		  May the honored rabbi and the other comrades who are still alive
		forgive me for
		minor inaccuracies in my descriptions.  The author of these writings after a
		hiatus of fourteen years he may have confused one comrade with another, putting
		him into an episode with which he had no connection.
		
		
		  RACHMAN, together with his gun and cooking pot, also carried with
		him a prayer
		book and phylacteries, and made full use of them whenever possible, when the
		time came.
		
		
		  GUTELEVSKI from Lipnishok near Iviye, in his middle twenties. He
		was not tall,
		but very heroic: he always volunteered for the most dangerous missions and
		brought great honor to our group.  He was given the most responsible
		assignments by the commandant, which he executed to the last detail.
		(Unfortunately he fell in combat with the Germans several days before we left
		the forest).
		
		
		  VITKOVSKI--nineteen or twenty years old, from Lida.  He was not
		particularly
		clever, but honest and sincere, and reliable.  He was a mechanic by trade, was
		a crackerjack shot, and could always repair weapons very quickly.
		
		
		  DEREVANIK--from Zhalitsuk [Zaludok], eighteen years old.  A good
		lad, but
		sometimes his impulsiveness got us into trouble, and some of us were injured.
		
		
		  LIZER--Lived in Lomzhe in Poland, but was born in Rumania.  A brave
		young man
		who was not afraid to die; laughed at danger. He had all the qualities a
		partisan needed.  He swore to take revenge and he did.
		
		
		  This writer is a Lithuanian Jew, a former Yeshiva student, who fled
		the ghetto
		with his wife and son and went to the forest.  [I] was a good shot, ready to
		face the enemy at any moment, to fight for my honor to the last.
		
		
		  Our seven men were lined up separately, given instructions once
		more, checked
		our ammunition, asked if we knew the password of the current reconnaissance
		groups of the various partisan camps in the forest.  We were give a two-day's
		supply of bread and we march off.
		
		
		  The road through the forest--about twenty kilometers--was not a
		difficult one.
		We walked along singing High Holiday songs such as Kol Nidre, Our King, Avoda,
		Kaddish before Neilah and the Kaddish of the great saint and gaon Levi Isaac of
		Berditchev, as well as classical folk songs.  We were so absorbed in the
		ecstasy of singing that we did not notice the kilometers pass.
		
		
		  About a quarter of the way we suddenly heard wild outcry in Russian:
		
		
		  "Stop!  Who goes there!  Give the password, or we shoot.  One
		of you come
		here!"
		
		
		  From the left side of the woods there emerged four armed riders.
		We were
		astounded and for a moment unable to move, but them we recovered.  KABAK, our
		group elder, said to us:      "Stay where you are!  I'll go and talk to
		them and find out who they are!"
		
		
		  He adjusted the rifle on his shoulder and went towards the riders.
		DEREVANIK,
		immediately got down on his right knee, and aimed at the approaching riders
		with his rifle, saying: "Watch me shoot them down like dogs!"
		
		
		  The rabbi grabbed him: "They're all our fellow reconnaissance.
		We are
		members of the command of General PLATON.  We are all fighting together against
		the Nazis.  They are our friends.  God forbid you'll cause a catastrophe.  Are
		you crazy, or are you tired of living?"
		
		
		The other comrades joined in: "You damn fool!  You son of a bitch!  These
		are our friends! Wait here--don't move!" There was silence.
		
		
		n a loud gunshot broke the stillness.  The Russians, having come
		to an
		understanding with KABAK, were signaling to us that all was well and told us to
		proceed on our march.
		
		
		  The Russian riders sent us away with five loaves of bread; and just
		as they had
		slipped out from the left side of the forest so suddenly, they vanished on
		their swift horses to the right side.
		
		
		  When we arrived at our post on the edge of the forest to change our
		comrades
		for others it was growing dark.
		
		
		  Our departing companions left us their binoculars, so that we could
		keep watch
		on the village on the other side of the Niemen River. [They] also showed us a
		wide, old weeping willow, which would be our observatory. They said goodbye
		quickly and went back to the base.
		
		
		  The sun had almost set behind the village.  The western sky was
		reflected in
		the shining, always placid, broad Nieman river. Several tardy cows splashed in
		the water, swimming home to their barns.  Looking at this panorama and thinking
		of our own ruined lives, we felt sad and bitter.
		
		
		  "Look how well off those Gentiles are," I said.
		"Under all
		regimes, and in all circumstances, they're [sic] remain in their own homes.
		They have enough bread to eat, sleep in a bed, till their soil, plow their
		fields, and nobody persecutes them, nobody murders them like they do us Jews.
		Maybe it doesn't even pay to fight; there is no room for us any place.  What
		good is our life, without hope, without a future?  Hitler and his gang have
		decided to annihilate every last one of us.  There is no way out for us, why
		should we suffer?"
		
		
		  "Comrade, comrade," came the answer in an angry voice.
		"Don't
		talk like that.  You have been created and you must live and have faith in the
		Almighty and not ask questions."
		
		
		  "But eventually one is bound to be disillusioned," I
		replied.
		"Our hearts are filled with gloom and bitterness.  Our future is
		black."
		
		
		  "Brother, don't lose you faith in God," persisted the
		rabbi. "We
		will live to see Hitler's downfall.  Don't lose courage."
		
		
		  Night fell.  Darkness covered the earth like a thick blanket. We
		made beds for
		ourselves out of thin pine branches under the big trees, set up a watchman and
		fell asleep exhausted.
		
		
		  We were awakened at dawn by nearby cannon fire, explosions, loud
		and continuous
		outbursts from automatics, bombs being thrown...the Nazis were blowing up
		bridges, mills, roads, destroying villages, and attacking our camps in the
		length and breadth of the forest.
		
		
		  It was fiercely cold; our bones ached, our teeth rattled, there was
		a sour
		taste in our mouths; our hearts were heavy; we yawned apathetically; we were
		frightened, thinking:  "How unfortunate we are; we are in a terrible
		position, our lives are worthless.  We are being driven and persecuted
		everywhere.  They want to destroy us, wipe us off the face of the earth.  Our
		eyes are filled with tears but we dare not weep.  It does not become a partisan
		to weep."
		
		
		  "You know, fellows," said a half-frozen HESHKE,
		"here we don't
		have to observe any mitzvahs.  We don't have to wash our hands in the
		morning--there is no water--we don't have to pray in the forest.  I'll bet you
		that here in the forest I can choose the prettiest girl in the group; they
		their [sic] lives have no value, either, hungry, naked.  Several weeks ago I
		got some food from the peasants and brought it back to the forest for commander
		  KESSLER's 'tavo' (girl friend) Rachel...She took an apple from me
		and gave me
		such a sweet look that my heart stopped."
		
		
		  RACHMAN tossed HESHKE an angry look.
		
		
		  t was only a short distance to the big weeping willow at the edge
		of the woods
		with its low, widespread branches.  From this vantage point we could see,
		through the binoculars, the white houses of the village of Nissif [?].  We
		could see the children, the school, and the sentry.
		
		
		  The first two to volunteer for sentry duty were KABAK and
		GUTELEVSKI. They
		checked their weapons and slunk silently to a spot where they could clearly
		observe the village on the other side of the Nieman River. Each comrade stood
		on guard under the big tree twice a day.
		
		
		  Not far from our observation point, in the middle of the field on
		the edge of
		the forest, was a mound of earth. Our comrades debated: some thought it was a
		grave of unknown partisans whom the Nazis or the "Whites" (our
		Polish, Lithuanian and Ukrainian neighbors who assisted the Nazis) had murdered
		and buried here in the middle of the field.
		
		
		  Others thought this was an abandoned potato pit, where peasants
		store potatoes
		from fall to spring.
		
		  There were many incidents where wandering Jewish families, who had
		lost their
		way fleeing from the ghetto, were captured by peasants and given into the hands
		of the Nazis or the Lithuanian, Ukrainian and Polish henchmen, who shot them on
		the spot. The "catchers" [were] rewarded with a few kilograms of salt.
		
		
		  We finally decided that towards evening three comrades, including
		this writer
		would investigate this strange pit.
		
		
		  We thought if this was a partisan burial place it is worth finding
		out, maybe
		we could find a clue that would tell us who they were, because transporting
		them elsewhere was impossible at a dangerous time like this.
		
		
		  After sunset we looked around us carefully, to make sure that the
		coast was
		clear, and then moved cautiously toward the sand pile that lay over the top of
		the pit.
		
		
		  When we came close, we realized immediately that this was a potato
		pit and not
		a partisan-grave. Our hearts leaped for joy. This meant that we would have food
		for our families for a week at least. We moved aside the lopsided door. Inside
		it was pitch dark. We did not dare use a lantern. The slightest glimmer of
		light would be highly dangerous.
		
		
		  We got hold of two beams of wood and all three lowered ourselves
		slowly into
		the dark. When we got to the bottom, we could feel that we were not stepping on
		potatoes but on a slimy mass that moved under our feet. We reached down and
		touched something wet and slippery, quivering. We listened and heard a terrible
		hissing from all sides, and realized that we were in a snake pit. "Let's
		get out of here," I shouted. "Save yourselves, comrades! This is a
		snake pit!" By some mysterious power, a strength we didn't know we had, we
		managed to climb up out of that horrible place.
		
		
		  [This is the end of this manuscript--page 135 but for the
		additional page
		follows, under the heading 'extra page  no number']
		
		
		  
we asked again:
		"Little stool, tell us, if there will be peace next year? The stool did
		not move. A sign  that the answer was no. When we asked, in how many months
		will Woronow Jews be redeemed, the stool tapped nine times. We considered this
		a good sign and consoled ourselves with the thought that our salvation will
		come very soon. The stool did not deceive us. Nine months later, our
		"salvation" did come. Exactly nine months later, the horrendous
		massacre of Woronow Jews took place. The stool became the hero of the day.
		
		
		  A group of Jews locked
		themselves in, day and night, and asked the magic stool questions, which it
		answered. The Jews comforted themselves with the little stool's predictions,
		which revived their spirits like a restorative medicine during those bitter,
		hopeless days and terror-filled nights of dread, isolation, pain, and suffering.
		
		
		  When a woman did not believe
		her husband about these omens, he assured her that what the stool foretold had
		come to pass in six houses so there is no doubt anymore; and we must have faith.
		
		
		  From all this, we can conclude
		that our young people and intellectuals were very neurotic. They were grasping
		at straws, looking for a ray of light that would pierce the gloom of their
		existence. It must be noted that if the Nazi authorities had any inkling about
		the magic powers and miracles demonstrated by the stool, they would accuse the
		Jews of trying to destroy the Nazi State with its SS, Gestapo, and Reichwehr.
		Our fate would be sealed.
		
		
		  When the Wilno and Lithuanian
		Jews asked the stool when they would return home, it stood motionless on one of
		its legs. This was a bad omen. But Jews are a people who don't give up hope
		until the last moment and whose faith is eternal.
		
		
		DEPEND UPON GOD TO RESCUE US:
		
		
			[NOTE: The manuscript ends here.]
		
		
		
		
		
						Page Entitled "Photos"
		
		
		
		
			[NOTE: No photos accompany the text.]
		
		
		
		
			
				
					| 
						1
					 | 
					
						The Common Grave were 1800 were buried from Davenishock, Saletchnik,
						Konvelishok, Bastun, Binyukun, and many from Vilna and Lida. The survivors made
						a single grave for all; and then they made a fence all around it. The grave is
						300 meters. On the left side, they collected and buried the heads of the small
						children.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						2
					 | 
					
						After the liberation, men, women, and children gathered from the underground.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						3
					 | 
					
						The children of Voronova's survivors who remained after the liberation,
						standing by the common grave.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						4
					 | 
					
						Partisan survivors near the common grave.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						5
					 | 
					
						Survivors from Vilna and surround towns near the grave where these murdered
						relatives were buried.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						6
					 | 
					
						Survivors from all the shtetloch surrounding Voronova gathered at the common
						grave site.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						7
					 | 
					
						Voronova's surviving Jews pray at the common grave site.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						8
					 | 
					
						Rabbi Isaac HARTZICK from Aishashok praying at the Voronova common grave site.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						9
					 | 
					
						Other survivors at the Vornova common grave site.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						10
					 | 
					
						Survivors standing near the memorial to Isaac OLKENITZKY, former Mayor of
						Voronova, murdered by the Polish soldiers after World War I.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						11
					 | 
					
						Morris (Moshe) RAHSHA and Lazar (Leon) BERKOWITZ standing by the memorial at
						the common grave.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						12
					 | 
					
						Partisan, wife and child standing by grave and memorial
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						13
					 | 
					
						Moshe BERKOWITZ
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						14
					 | 
					
						Eleazer (Leon BERKOWITZ, dressed as a partisan.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						15
					 | 
					
						Two Voronova partisans, one of whom is Sholem LUBARSKI's son.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						16
					 | 
					
						A little partisan.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						17
					 | 
					
						The market place in Voronova where the Germans brought their victims to kill
						them, 1942.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						18
					 | 
					
						After the Nazis killed their victims, the Polish goyim took their clothes and
						other possessions and bought food and whisky and had a party.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						19
					 | 
					
						The Voronova Yahrzeit Committee. Moshe and Rahske are on the bottom row on the
						right.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						
						20
					 | 
					
						All the Voronova and Davenishok Jewish survivors got together on the chosen
						Yahrzeit Day in May to say Yizkor for their dead relatives.
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						21
					 | 
					
						Postcard of the Chalutzim of Voronova from 1924
					 | 
				
				
					| 
						22
					 | 
					
						Bottom row, left to right: Esther OLKENITZKY, Israel SAGOVINSKY, unknown,
						Yankel TROTZKY, Chanah VINNER.
						 
						Second row: fifth from left is Leon BERKOWITZ
						
					 | 
				
			
		
		
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