[Page 525]

We have arrived at the last chapter of our Pinkas – identical with the chapter on the sunset of our home city of Zamość.

In the prior chapters, we have proceeded in the footsteps of our home that was cut down, in a chronological order. We saw its genesis, accompanied its growth, its development; peered into all of the generations, who with their energy, created, with their minds and muscles contributed both to the securing of the Jewish community, and to the growth of the city itself.

In the realm of what was possible, we have attempted to memorialize the splendorous yesterday of our home city – we have exerted ourselves to bring out everything and everyone, that had anything to do with giving our city its coloration, it uniqueness among the hundreds and hundreds of Jewish communities in Poland.

With all means that we had at our disposal, we attempted to raise up materials and documents, from the ravages of time and the confines of archives, dealing with almost 500 years of the history of our city, which from the first years of its establishment was tied and bound up with Jewish life and creativity.

During these centuries, Jews lived a unique life in aristocratic Catholic Zamość. It is precisely about this unique way of life, that we have attempted to bring an excerpt, of their struggle for their survival and continuity. Many means and many approaches in Jewish life sought to right way to carry out this mission. We have done everything, so that all approaches in our Zamość will receive their place in our Pinkas.

Each person served this goal in their own way and approach – each person has their chapter here, their place; the works and achievements; oftentimes also the pitfalls and disappointments – everything that lived, and was then cut down by the modern day Amalekites, the Nazis and their servants, [all this], we have attempted to put down as an eternal monument.

So we stand at the end, the gruesome, terrifying end.

Also about this chapter, we have attempted to gather together as much material as possible, so that nothing should be forgotten, so that all the pains of our near ones should remain forever in this Pinkas and in the memory of our people.

We have attempted to achieve this by giving voice to those who actually were in that Hell – let them tell it, they, the witnesses of the bestial transgressions.

In this section, we have the chronological order of the destruction from the first days of September 1939 when Nazi Germany attacked Poland.

We have the events that took place in our city from 1939 up to the extermination of the community.

From the first victim of the first bombs in 1939 until the tragic bestial murder of the last Jew.

[Page 526]

Ghetto, camps, aktionen, evacuations; exile and the partisan resistance; bunkers and forests; heroism and resistance.

All these heroic-tragic chapters are covered in the following chapters.

It is complemented by a list of our holy victims and martyrs.

A list of authentic documents and materials make the picture even fuller and more complete.

We begin our threnody, our lament and our section on the destruction with the behest that was told to us:

Remember what Amalek did to you!

Remember, and never forget what the Nazi Amalekites did to our people.

[Page 527]

September 1, 1939. The day began as a beautiful, clean and bright day.

Already in the early morning hours, on the Zamość streets, and in particular in the ‘small orchards’ on the Rynek, pockets of people were standing about, not like on normal days. The question on everyone's lips was:

– What's new? Will there be war?

There was a dark fear that had been poured out upon everyone's faces, as if one displayed the feeling that the outbreak of war implied, in the first place, a misfortune for us Jews. It felt like each of us was taking stock of what the war was going to bring upon us. Yet each of us permitted ourselves to be comforted, driving off the sorrowful thoughts, and ‘maybe’ everyone speculated – maybe the world will not permit it to happen….

With a weak hope, the crowd dispersed, whoever to the factory, in the warehouse, or store. The merchants still stood with the keys to their businesses in their hands, continuing to talk, not making any haste to open the stores. It was as if the intuition has said: ‘don't rush, it is as if everything is already lost.’

Employees began to appear from the Christian streets, who rather uniquely, nervously rushed to their positions. In going by the ‘small orchards,’ they remarked to the Jews standing there, that they should disperse. The storekeepers, with sad hearts and trembling hands, opened up their businesses.

The storekeepers had barely been seen to open their businesses, and as usual wanted to bring their display windows into order, when a stream of people cascaded upon them, who began to snatch up and buy anything that came to hand, whatever was on the shelves; merchandise, that in normal times nobody demanded and didn't need.

The storekeepers smelled the symptoms of war with their mercantile sense – the last, possibly only, spark of hope was rejected.

The merchants, being unable to respond to the demands of those who had come running, especially the Polish buying masses, had to listen to ‘remarks’ by the mob – just you wait, zhidek, the Germans will come, and then we will settle up with you….

This kept up for about two hours. Suddenly, the droning of airplanes was heard. This halted the frightened and disorganized running to the stores. Both people in the streets, and inside at places of work, ran outside and began to look at to steel ‘birds,’ which appeared in the clear sky, glistening and shimmering so in the rays of the sun.

The people were of the opinion that these wee Polish airplanes, ‘Our own,’ ‘ours,’ was murmured from all sides, that are making ‘our maneuvers’ – nobody had any idea that these were German attackers, that will soon begin to sow death and destruction…

After the noon hour, the public knew the truth already, it was communication in the official dispatches – it is war, and a mobilization is being declared.

The harmony was disrupted. The streets were abandoned. Places of business were locked up – the ardor of the buying public dropped; the ‘sense’ of the storekeepers for some rescue was not a great one. One senses that a storm of fire and blood was coming.

[Page 528]

On the second day, September 2, immediately from the early morning hours on, masses of people were drawn from all directions to the military conscription office, they came to the ‘P.K.O.’ in accordance with the order for the mobilization. It was possible to see many Jews in the long rows – they, especially this time, went with eagerness to become mobilized – the war is with the Germans, with Nazi Germany, our common enemy.

War fever and panic begin to rise. The stores were fill again, and again, everything was ‘snatched up.’ It was ‘quiet’ for about three hours.

The military authorities issued an order, that all citizens, men up to 60 years of age, have to take up shovels, and place themselves at the disposal of the inspectors, in order to dig ‘shelters,’ trenches for protection against air attacks. All men, and especially Jews, immediately responded to this call. They immediately began to dig ‘shelter trenches’ – in the city, in all places, also in the ‘little orchards.’

Suddenly, the sirens began to wail, and the ‘peace and quiet’ was disrupted, replaced by a deathly silence that took its place. On the blue horizon of the sky, white steel birds showed themselves. Everyone fled to hide, some in houses, some under the ‘potchinehs.’ Yet not everyone showed themselves to flee from the exposed streets, when one heard the report of the first bombs.

The first bombs were dropped on the ‘Hayfl,’ an old fashioned house, occupied by a couple of hundred Jewish residents. Characteristic of so many military objectives and important economic-industrial points that Zamość had, the Hitler extermination machine had selected the first victim for its bombs to be the one that was thought to be the one house occupied by Jews, and fortunately, the bombs fell several tens of meters far from the ‘Hayfl.’

The first victim, indeed, a Jew, was found after the steel destroyers had disappeared – this was Shlomo Brandwein, the brother of the Bund activist Yerakhmiel Brandwein.

In the city, the news of this first death made a shattering impression on all the residents. But who even could foresee the fact that there will yet come the later bestial murders with millions of victims?

All places of work were closed. Each individual went home.

On the 3^rd day of the war, September 3, movement in the streets began in the later hours; stores were opened later than usual; workers also went to their jobs being very late. Everyone had strained to hear – does one not again hear the thrumming of the angels of attack.

Half the day went by without disturbance, the public work of the civil populace, in digging the ‘trenches’ went on again. However, immediately after the noon hour, one began to hear the wail of the sirens – a harbinger of a new visit from The Angel of Death, and, indeed, immediately afterwards, one can hear the sudden reports of bomb explosions.

Everyone hid themselves in the corridors of houses, in the byways, that had old crypts, like in catacombs. It was thought that this was the safest place – apart from which that no better hiding places had been prepared.

The bombardment lasted for about a half hour. First, it was thought that the murderers were bombing the train station, or the barracks, which were to be found about 2 kilometers from the city. However, it became apparent, that this time the bandits had picked out mor important ‘military’ targets – they bombed the Neustadt heavily, the quarter most densely populated with the Jewish poor. He result –several dead, many wounded, among them children, and a great number of wrecked Jewish houses.

[Page 529]

In the evening, it became quieter from the air attacks. In the darkened streets, human silhouettes began to appear, which would fil quickly in the streets from one side to the other.

In the evening, in the house at Armenianska 19, which was called Baruch Mendel's house, in the residence of Yekel Baruch-Mendel's, a group of people gathered, myself among them. We dealt with the question of providing a proper Jewish burial for those victims of the air attacks. We immediately took to calling the Hevra-Kadisha together, and to organize ourselves, so that regardless of whatever trouble befell us, under any circumstances, that the Hevra-Kadisha should be prepared…

Let it be remembered here, that R' Yekel Baruch-Mendel's was the first one who took upon himself the initiative to bury the dead. Already, that same night, he ran about, and brought several additional people and the victims were interred.

On the fourth day – September 4 – the first refugees from afar appeared, such as from Kalisz, Czestochowa, Kielce and other cities, which were located closer to the German border. The stream became bigger, the longer time went on – with the train, and with autos, they came from all parts of western Poland.

The majority of the first refugees were Jewish intelligentsia, and a large part of them without means – having fled their homes as they stood and went.

The people of Zamość, with their traditional friendship and custom of taking in guests, did not consider their own dangers, the dangers of air attacks and immediately took to get the refugees in order. Those who had more means, were provided with a place to sleep with various citizens; for those without means, places were also provided where they could eat. We attempted to make the fate of these refugees lighter, so that they could feel somewhat at home. And interestingly – very quickly, literally in a matter of hours, they became close relatives.

The refugees had already conveyed the first news of the plundering and murder of the Hitlerist bands in the places where they had entered. They told how the Nazi fliers would fly down, with the death machines, very low, over the unarmed non-combatant masses of refugees on the roads, and literally sowed death, shooting from machine guns at women and children.

That is how the fourth day passed. Every person in Zamość exerted themselves to accommodate someone of the refugees in their home. Anyone who had several rooms, crowded themselves together, giving the refugees the vacated rooms.

On that day, there was yet another bombardment – this time, finally against military targets – the train station, and community economic objectives. However, even now, they did not forget the Jews. They dropped incendiary bombs on the Neustadt, which caused fires, and led to many human sacrifices.

On September 5 in the morning, a strong thrumming of aircraft was heard, and an immediate report of bomb explosions. It drove everyone out of bed. One ran to hide in ‘secure’ places – some in cellars, pits, and other hiding places – we ran to the ‘potchinehs,’ under the medieval crypts. In house number 19 of Ormianska, where the entrance was to a crypt system, up to 100 people squeezed themselves into a corridor – men, women, children, mothers with tiny babies in their hands. We stood like this for several hours, pushed together. A deathly awesome silence reigned. Even the nursing infants did not utter a peep.

Among the crowd, was also the Rabbi of the city with his family. An elderly woman could not contain herself, and asked the Rabbi:

– Why does The Master of the Universe not send a rain, then we would be rid of the bombardment.

The Rabbi didn't think for very long, and he replied:

– Rain is a blessing of good fortune, when human blood is being spilled that is absorbed by the earth, this cannot be purified by the blessing of rain….

Editor's footnote:

1. M. Sznur began to write this work in the camp in Germany after the liberation, and was interrupted because of his sudden illness and death. Return

[Page 530]

1. Over Izbica, Lublin and Piosk – for a long time already The bloody scythe had cut with its elimination of people Except Zamość… the city by the edge – With bribes, with weeping…for the time being it was effective… Regardless, we are restive…. for – every city! Every city! Only learned Jews, hoary, with the wisdom of the law – Make it simple, showing clearly, that especially in Zamość – These Jews are needed! So say the local authorities in control – Until now, they have retained: a refuge… a building… In addition, ‘don't harm;’ not this one, or that one And because of this, a promise: ‘there is no talk about you at this time’… But other cities? Let the entire world itself go up in flames! The Head of the Judenrat, an important person with entry ‘there’ – Knows one thing: Let us send!… gifts, Jews…gifts! He has said – he knows what will go over better: Gold! The best to wipe away malevolent intentions… * * * The danger flitted over our heads And left a fetid odor in the air The heart responded to it with intensified beating And perceived, in fear, its watchful shadow, all about Mind and will permit themselves to be captured by seats of comfort And sing into the nets of crystal lying there But the heart is continuously attuned to threatening rumors Even though it, itself, does not know: Well, what should we do!? 2. A city is here propped up with all manner of people – They were dragged here from all ends of the land And the streets of the Jews were cut down in size, row after row So that you could become suffocated by the overcrowding of one on the other – – – But Jews continue to multiply, one in the other's house Fantastic sums are paid to gentiles for stables And yet one jokes: How do you like my club? And securing one's self yet: Just not to personally fail! – – –

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Christians are still permitted to go about freely The byways of the ghetto – not yet cordoned off… A gentile, someone familiar…if he can only manage it – he comes… And he goes away satisfied, cheerily buoyant… It is good for them that Jews need to eat – And they have flour, groats and potatoes… – of what use is money to them today – under German locks? That jewelry for a loaf of bread! Lacquered slippers… Peasants for the villages come loaded down – They have bread, and pounds of butter! And for this they pat down the furniture… they want the prettiest clothing… He became an expert on merchandise, quickly like this – Stefan! The whiskers smile coldly, with a cunning peasant cast; As far as he's concerned, well, it could be the pianoforte… And the horses outside neigh, from this kinship born of sorcery And tug in satisfaction from the peasant's harnesses – – – And really!… One hears one's self saying: Who today needs to play, when the terror is so great!? Let Ivan take away the wail of the clavier – And let it be a source of moaning in his furnished house * * * They come here with their sledges from the villages – The come, and need everything… Sell them your urban possessions Pay them with your life for salt… The house is covered with paper Now, give them mirrors, divans… He will take them to his home now – The war – it is at the service of the Stefans – – – He will make the room full of flowers – Place mirrors on the loam walls The daughter will study the clavier And make her hand soft with perfume… Should Jewish women come to the village – If they will only let them live To plow and sink into the turf – So that their hand will become coarse… He will take the money to the bank And buy their houses for groschen Abandon the stench of burning And learn how to sit with splayed feet in slippers – – –

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Yet – there are still Jews! Despite the fact that rumors abound, and circulate So the wagons still have to be hitched And make a fortune off of hunger… 3. Everything here has been done exactly, as everywhere else, supposedly Police have been appointed, with screaming-red caps… One mut pay no small sum to ‘Pan Presess’ Or protection… and other things… A rod with thorns grows there, with which The police and their appointed – find what is ‘necessary for the Judenrat’… From cities and from far away – scented already… learned – And everything is ready…clear and timely…. Explicitly set down in German offices Stamped with the red Gestapo emblem… They strut around with a satisfied air That the sign of the Swastika has been spread upon them The now take bribes and carry staves They now can beat you and drive you from homes… They know how to utilize fear How to sell morsels and make a fortune – – – In the lairs of the underworld, in assimilated homes The dreams of control were nurtured And the hoary slime was released Placing themselves at the disposal of erecting barbed wire fences… The go, it can be sensed over the heads They look at people only when it is necessary They thirstily mirror themselves in the shining buttons And derived a mighty temerity from that… And Jews they go, quietly at the side – One makes an accommodation, or one shows them special deference… ‘Sometimes also the fox – has his moment’ – So the adage helps to rescue some dignity – – – * * * The area has not yet been totally enclosed Where Jews have to be entombed – People opine: One can see… Here they have an issue, a difficult one…

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After all, the border with Russia is not far Columns are drawn and draw [there]… The battlefields are aflame, and the road is needed They will not be able to close this off – – - Analogies are made with Warsaw and wherever… Bit it will not be…there is no equivalence! One wants to gird one's peace of mind with words – Common sense would suggest that the Germans would inquire… Suddenly the thought comes: Open… this is even worse!… This means though – they don't intend anything for long – – – Only doubts, they must be awakened… 4. …and there, behind the city walls of Lublin The quills scratch out anger, typewriters sing: get done with it! Papers fly already, half finished and completed: Zamość! A paper blade before the cut of the barracks – – – Thousands are yet asleep under the subservient roofs of the ghetto One still lives with women there, and girls are smiled at thus so Out of habit, the merchants intone: Butro…Netto… And before dawn, stealthily, a small sack of grain is filched from a gentile… And there is time in the offices, where they prepare themselves as if for a battle; They will not tarry! Meanwhile we have to squeeze out what we can! The fat chief with the medals – all he does is laugh: – And what will you do, my dear city Jews, will you flee? In the meantime, a community delegation is appointed: what harm can it do? ‘They should only not appear anxious!…Everything is lies! Lies!’ Some story – like identical drops of water – in the case of all the Judenrats: The decrees of Haman…Only – thanks to the President: they were shouted down! And in the nights – the community – all they do is write and write: Perhaps … A story for you…in the event somebody has to be sent…then it is – you, schnorrer! Women come…tearing out their hair, with insane whimpering… Screaming… and kissing the hands of every community leader… Only they – cold robbers! One keeps silent or one is discarded The list of ‘the protected’ is prepared: those who pay…givers of contributions… These still have the means with which to heal their fright And it is possible from these to extract a lung and liver…. – They can be left for the last! – Sholom Tzibeleh rules with deliberation… A former messenger to the villages… now a liaison to ‘them’ – And the community? Did anyone ask an understanding from somebody? What is set remains set – and no rooster gives a crow…

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And Sholom knows the town! And he avers that he also understands the world: ‘– A shortage will occur…and the impoverished will in any event die of hunger…’ And he mocks Goldstein, the indigent one, on whom pity was taken: ‘Believe me, it is a sin to neglect one's appetite…’ And about the milkman's son – when it is told into his ear: – that guy is coming from a camp…and he will record all of this… Sholom smiles to himself this way…sweet and sour: –Go, already…he surely won't tarry here for very long… …Money! Where did the people get so much money!? Everyone eats to excess! Swills! And alongside there are so many ranks of the hungry! Just a little more soup from the kettle…a raw potato and a kilo of coal As if the world here had been split into two – – – And through the windows, the members of the Judenrat look at the ranks And drone on with certainty: Another day! Another day! The schnorrers are standing!? What – they are standing! They are all going on the first train – – – But there, the lists are taken from the President With a coldness that masks laughter; If you have eyes, look and read it: –You too will go…along with your sons and daughters – – –

Editor's Footnote:

1. From his book, ‘In an Alien Generation.’ Return

[Page 535]

On September 1, 1939, the first day of the outbreak of the war, the radio already reported about the bombing of cities and the many human casualties.

On that same day, the sirens already sounded the alarm about this, indicating that we should hide ourselves, that the enemy's airplanes were getting nearer to the city.

A number of days went by peacefully. In general, one did not sense any increased nervousness or pressure in the city, during the first days.

A number of days after the outbreak of war, the first refugees began to appear, those who fled from western locations, close to the border, where the place of war was located. The stream of refugees grew with each day, all straining towards the east, to the Russian border.

The first two weeks went by in this manner, without any special events or occurrences.

It was Saturday, September 16. The day began sunny and warm. I left the house at about 9 o'clock. The Hrubieszow Gasse has, as always, its normal appearance. People strolled about. Jews were on their way to prayers. One could not recognize any signs of the gruesome war, which had been going on for 15 days already.

It was told that the radio communicated that the Germans would no longer bomb any open cities with a civilian population; this was in accordance with a demand made by Russia. We wanted very much to believe this.

I entered [the house of] my neighbor and friend, Leibl Kornmass, where there was a radio on. I asked, what was being heard – there was no special news to report.

I went out to the center of the city. Also here, the movement about was full of life; the street were full of strolling people; the mood was quite fresh. I met with acquaintances; we walked on the city road.

An acquaintance approaches us from the opposite direction – Moshe Schwartzberg (Moshe Mekheleh's). He proposes that we accompany him to L. Kornmass, perhaps we will hear something on the radio that is news. I decline, he takes his leave of me, and he goes off alone.

It is already 11 o'clock. Jews are returning already from their prayers, and one is thinking about going home to eat. When we find ourselves at the pharmacy, suddenly the sky becomes overcast…a cloud-like sheet of airplanes suddenly appeared with a loud thrumming of their engines, and we thought that they were literally flying right over our heads. Before we orient ourselves, we already hear shooting. A frightening panic ensues.

We run into Haskel Hertzberg's house (Blonde Haskel). A Polish officer also comes running. He is frightened to death, and can barely speak. We continue to hear fresh bomb explosions.

After a set period of time, it gets quiet. We look out and see how a thick column of smoke reaches the sky. Also, a heavy plume of smoke is visible from the side of the Hrubieszow Gasse.

I run home. For fear and thoughts about my near ones, my feet don't carry me. The short distance seems to be unusually long. I come to the Hrubieszow Gasse. Shayndel – the daughter of Yidl Szczebrzeszyner, is being carried out killed, from Kornmass's side street. Later on, her father, Yidl, was also found burned, lying in the side street, under a tree.

[Page 536]

At the same moment, along with them, the previously mentioned Moshe Schwartzberg was killed, while going out of Kornmass's house, the same person, who an hour before, had called to me to [accompany him] back to Kornmass's…

I ran into nobody at my residence. The door knocked off, the windows shattered. I run out of the house – not a person is to be seen. From the neighboring houses, smoke is seeping out. The surrounding houses are on fire. Finally, I become aware that the people are hiding themselves in the field, which is past the Hrubieszow Gasse.

I search for my kin in the field. All are sitting with frightened looks, helpless and lost. Nobody knows what to do, where to go. Everyone has run away from their houses, along with abandoning their pittance of poverty. They fled just the way they were standing. The houses stand and wait for the fire to engulf them.

I take my wife, and quickly return to our dwelling. The house stands intact yet. I go into the house and take out a baby carriage. I put bedding on it, a little bit of clothing, a little bit of linens, and other necessities. We go back to the field to the children.

Airplanes fly overhead again. The people hide their heads in the ground. This time, we get through peaceably – there were no casualties. It appears that the pilots returned only to have a look, to see if their bit of work had the desired effect.

Slowly, the sun begins to set. It gets chilly. Night is falling. The question that looms foremost is – where does one go now? The house is already burned down. Those, whose homes remained intact, are too frightened to return to them. So it remained that we would go off to the villages [in the countryside].

And what Jew didn't have a gentile acquaintance in the villages? And from him, he will request protection, ‘until the hostilities pass’ – until the storm is over. Night fell, and the people took themselves over the fields to the villages.

I reminded myself of a Gentile of my acquaintance in the village of Bozhy Dor and we decide to head in that direction.

I put my few belongings on my ‘wagon’ and even was able to seat my children in it, and set out on the way.

The night was dark and cool. It was the end of the month of Elul, the beginning of Tishri. The road was at that time a very difficult one. Full of refugees, who feared traveling during the day, or to move, because of the bombing, now beleaguered the road with wagons, autos, motorcycles and rovers, not to mention the mass of people on foot. Seeing that it was forbidding to use any form of light, you can imagine what the road looked like.

On our way, we stumbled upon a Jew who was a refugee from Galicia. He is almost two weeks on the road. He has already been through several bombings. But also, here, it caught up with him. Here, he waited until nightfall, and would then start out again on the road. His goal is the Russian border. He also told us, that more than 40 people were killed in the Neustadt from today's bombing. In the end, covered the 8 kilometers and arrived peacefully in the village.

The peasant received us in a quite friendly manner. By this time, we were not the first ones to come to him. He led us into a silo, where there already were two families. Straw was brought in, and we arranged bedding for a place to sleep. In the mornings, another few isolated families arrived, and the peasant took all of them in. There were also Jews in the other houses already.

That is the way several days passed by. We bought food from the peasant. We were out of contact, and did not know what was happening in Zamość.

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On the third day, Tuesday morning, someone we knew arrived, Simcha Grindler, he was with a second peasant, and proposed that whoever wanted to, could come with him to Zamość. Since I had thought of this before, we both went off.

We arrived at the Neustadt, on the Hrubieszow Gasse. The Gasse lay in ruins, blackened, naked chimneys stuck out. Individual people approached me, dispirited and saddened. There was still a bit of activity in the market. People walked about with wrung hands, with the question – what further will happen to us?

We went to the Altstadt. There, appearances were a little different. Here, the sorrow and sense of loss did not manifest itself the way it could be seen in the Neustadt. I speak to people that I know, and I become aware that all the appointed officials have been evacuated. The police is also immediately at the point of leaving, and the city remains abandoned. It is said that this will not be for long, because today or tomorrow, we will certainly have the Germans here.

In the city, businesses are open. There is not a great deal of traffic, and it is apparent that the people are full of nervousness and feel pressure. We take ourselves back to the Neustadt. On the way, we encounter loaded autos full of police, who are leaving the city.

There is sorrow and confusion in the Neustadt, here it is possible to see the destruction in front of one's eyes. Suddenly – another air attack, the thrumming of aircraft. We run into Kowalski's orchard, laying ourselves down under the trees. There, we run into other Jews already. The Neustadt is again bombed.

When it quiets down, we wind our way back to the village, to our families, who certainly were contemplating our fate. Going along the Hrubieszow Gasse, we learn that there are already more dead and wounded Jews. On the way to the village, we are told, that the Germans are already quite near.

In the village, we found everything as it was. In the air, however, one senses that something was going to change. It is the Eve of Rosh Hashana. Jews come to a decision to conduct Mincha and Maariv services as a group. A small village shack was located which was vacant, and it was cleaned up. The women washed it up a bit. A table was put in, and it became a place prepared for prayer.

Meanwhile, it was yet early for prayer, so we were sitting outside. All around, it is still, like on the eve of a storm. Suddenly, we hear shooting from not a far distance. Again it is quiet, and immediately, louder shooting, this time from artillery. People begin to run out of fear.

Someone shouts out: – Jews, come to prayer!

This is Akiva Drozhkasz (Lame Motteh's), and everyone runs into the little shack, also the women and children. Akiva takes a Makhzor in hand and stands at the side of the table, and begins to pray. Wailing starts among the women and a choked coughing from the men. Coming out of the wailing, the voice of the leader of the service, Akiva Drozhkasz pierces through, ‘U'Vekhen Tayn Pakhdekha…’

The shooting continues to get louder all the time. The panes in the windows shudder. One thinks that the walls are shaking. The crying becomes stronger, more rending.

The prayers are completed, and it is a little bit quieter, the gathering calms down a bit, and one wishes each other ‘salvation.’

We go out into the street laden with fear. It is still. The peasants are hidden in their houses. When it gets good and dark, someone comes running with the ‘news’ – he saw a German. Afterwards, a second person comes, saying that two Germans had asked the way to Zamość. This means that the Germans are already here.

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We go to sleep in fear and with worry on our minds. In the middle of the night, we hear intense sounds of movement from tanks on the highway that leads to Zamość.

On the second day, the Jews come together to pray – a little calmed down. We know that the Germans are in Zamość.

What else should we do? Go home? Of this we are fearful, who knows how the Germans will relate to the Jews. It is Rosh Hashana, so we will wait these two days, remain in the village.

Before evening, the peasant comes and tells us the Germans are in the Neustadt. The houses are vacant. No person is seen in the city.

We get the same news on the second day. Meanwhile, the ‘Holiday’ passes, and we decide to go ‘home.’ True, only a few families, the rest still were afraid.

We put our belongings on our ‘wagon,’ and we head for the city, not by the normal way, but through the fields. Until we reach the outskirts of the city, everything proceeded peacefully. But already before we reach the city, airplanes appear. This time, we think these are Polish aircraft. The Germans shoot up at them. We lay ourselves down on the ground. The airplanes disappear. Around us we find a lot of bomb craters. Only now do we see the danger that we were in.

Going through the fields, we come to the so-called colony ‘Avromuvka,’ which is opposite Jekuthiel Yukal's. As we come upon vacated houses, we go into one residence. From the neighbors that live nearby, we learn that up to no it has been still, the Germans have up till now not done anything, but the fear is great. I go out into the street – one doesn't see a living soul from among the civilians. On the marketplaces, German vehicles stand, and soldiers are putting barbed wire around, as if nothing had happened. The empty streets instill fear, and I hurry home.

Before nightfall, several additional Jewish people come to the house, familiar to us, who want to spend the night here. It is outside the city, and therefore, the thought is that it will be safer. We lie down in the dark, and we are afraid to light a candle. We are four men sleeping under the table. At night – there is a knocking. It is German soldiers, three men enter, with weapons on their shoulders. They light the house, and taker away two men. In the morning, we learn that they took men out of practically every house. It meant that they were taking them to work. Those who were taken out were led around for the entire day, everyone was soundly beaten, and released at night.

It was a Sabbath day, the second day with the Germans, and for the time being it is tranquil. We go out into the street, one at a time, because we are curious. A bit of traffic is generated. One meets again with acquaintances, and we exchange the experiences that we lived through of the last several days.

At about 11 o'clock before noon, a motorized German column begins to emerge from the Altstadt along the Lemberg highway. There are in it, a variety of tanks and vehicles. The people array themselves on both sides of the sidewalks, as they once did during a defensive maneuver on the Third of May. One looks at the stern marvel of the German technology. During the span of two hours, without stopping, several hundred German war machines passed through in the most precise order.

The Sabbath day went by quietly. That night, once again, we slept in fear, that perhaps the bandits would come for a visit.

In the following days, the Germans once again seized people for labor; if they didn't find anyone in the streets, they dragged them from the houses. It was at that time that the mentally disturbed boy, the brother of Tzipkeh Kerbus, was shot.

[Page 539]

These were the days between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. It was difficult to manage with food and other necessities of life. The bakers almost did not bake at all, and one could really feel the dearth of bread.

Yom Kippur, immediately in the morning, suddenly heavy shooting started. The Germans shot over the city. It appeared that in the nearest forests, there were still groups of armed Polish soldiers, who put up resistance. The shooting kept up until after midday. Later on, a motorized German detachment rod through the Hrubieszow Gasse in the direction of the forests. When they subsequently returned, they were already leading along captured Polish soldiers.

It became still. Polish soldiers then wandered around all over the streets. There was a tendency on the part of the Germans to free the captured Polish soldiers. Among these were many Jews, who served in the military. They were helped to get civilian clothing, and they changed their dress.

A rumor was spreading that the Germans were leaving and the Russians were going to come in. This was quickly confirmed. We observed how the Germans were preparing themselves for travel. In several hours later, we didn't see a single German. We breathed freely, and an inner happiness reigned over everyone – we are rid of the Germans.

But, for the time being, the city was left without any control. Anti-Semitic Polish elements utilized this opportunity, under the leadership of former officers from the released prisoners, and they prepared to take over authority in the city. Groups of armed Polish soldiers immediately showed themselves, preparing themselves to offer resistance to the Red Army, when it would enter the city. They ordered the bakers that they should bake bread for the Polish soldiers. In the city, there was the essence of a pogrom in the air. I do not remember how it happened, the band resigned from its opposition, and the city avoided the [mis]-adventure.

After midday, those who lived outside the city heard the arrival of the Soviet tanks. As if they had grown out from under the ground, a procession of two hundred tanks appeared with a red flag. A the head of the procession was the well-known communist in Zamość, Josef Ionczak. When the tanks arrived, a tank driver came out and addressed the procession. After the shouting of Hurrahs, in honor of the Red Army, and for Stalin, he asked the audience to disperse. The tanks arranged themselves on the marketplace.

Meanwhile, the young people, and others, utilized the situation and grabbed the weaponry that the Polish soldiers had turned in. With the consent of the Soviet military command, this armed group took over the authority in the city. The result of this was to guard against the occurrence of any provocation.

People dispersed, heroic doers, all over the city. Hope ran through the streets. Wherever a Polish soldier was encountered, he was searched, to see whether or not he was armed. If any sort of weapon was found on his person, it was confiscated. In the evening, a detachment of Soviet soldiers arrived, who patrolled the city.

The next day, an official citizens militia was created to safeguard the peace and security of the city. It was possible for everyone to sign up for the militia. In the first few days, indeed, it already numbered in the hundreds.

Immediately on the second night, a tragic incident took place. It was in the middle of the night, at the location of the militia (in the former municipal building of the Neustadt). A number of comrades were sitting – Yekel Eltzter, Aharon Schor, and others. They were playing with revolvers. At a certain moment, the revolver held by Aharon Schor discharged, and the bullet hit Eltzter in the heart. He died a couple of hours later. This tragic incident made an impression in the entire city. Yekel Eltzter was one of the most talented and intelligent of the group. He was 26 years old. He had a military funeral. A Soviet colonel gave the eulogy.

In the city, it became again like it was in the days of the fighting. Businesses remained practically all closed. No added municipal appointments were made. Apart from the militia, there was nothing. Several days passed in this manner.

[Page 540]

In the Altstadt, the military authority occupied the Magistrate Building, and there, comrade Zisha Hackman was also to be found (died in the Soviet Union). I am not familiar with his work there during those days.

A rumor came out in a couple of days, that terrified the entire Jewish community. It was said that the Soviet Army is pulling back to the other side of the Bug [River], and the Germans were going to reoccupy Zamość. The very thought created shivers. When the Soviet authorities were approached about this, they categorically denied it. However, the rumors did not abate. At a specific moment, the official Russian authorities gave notification of this. Afterwards, we found out that in those days, a treaty was concluded between Germany and Russia, that the Soviet Army from the Lublin region is required in a number of places to withdraw to the other side of the Bug.^[1]

The level of sorrow and anxiety among the Jews can readily be understood, once they found out that the Germans were coming back. It is true, however, that everyone was given the option of being evacuated with the Red Army.

Here, however, in my opinion, a profound error was made. The option for evacuation should have been made into an order, that the Jewish population should leave the city. If the Soviet army could not do this officially, then the coterie of Jewish leadership, should have communicated to the Jewish populace that for their own safety, the city should be abandoned, and they should go with the Soviets. Such an official declaration did not come. Therefore, many were not committed to evacuate. In general, at that time there was a true state of confused thinking. One did not know how to take a decision.

I recall the discussions that were carried on at the time. The questions that came from neighbors and acquaintances, who tried to figure out what to do. Groups stood around helplessly in the streets, discussing the situation. There stands a group of Jews, the Rabbi among them, Rabbi Mordechai Sternfeld, ז”ל. He was helpless just like all the rest. He surveyed the city with deep sorrow and pain, where he had occupied the rabbinical seat for more than 50 years. What can he do? Abandon the congregation? And here at the militia – the militia members stand and are talking among themselves. In that moment, Mendele Glazer approached with a cry and called out: – Tell me friends, you are all going to flee and abandon the city, why don't you see your way to do something for the city?

But what could the militia, who had discharged their duties for only a few numbered days, do? They were in general in the situation of being ‘and he knew not of Joseph.’ Not only did they not know the city, and the city didn't know them.

In the end, however, thousands of Jews did evacuate, leaving the city. To our great regret, however, thousands of Jews remained behind, and took part in the sorrowful fate of all the Jews of Poland. The militia were the last to evacuate themselves. I, personally, evacuated with the militia. Families were sent ahead a day earlier by train.

This took place at Simkhat Torah, when we left the city.^[2] Going to the train station, and being near the Magistrate Building, I said to a companion, who was walking beside me: ‘Let us look at the city, perhaps for the last time.’ And indeed, this is how it came to pass, since we never saw Zamość again.

Translator's footnotes:

1. A consequence of a supplementary German-Russian protocol, signed on September 28, which also transferred most of Lithuania from the envisaged German to the Soviet sphere. The three Baltic Republics were given no choice but to sign a so-called Pact of defense and mutual assistance, permitting the Soviet Union to station troops in Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania. Return
2. This would have been October 6, 1939 – one week after the German-Russian protocol was signed. Return

[Page 541]

1. The Last Day of Passover. 5702 (1942). Literate Jews are chewing their way through verses at the minyan at Bereleh Weinmakher's Seeking…if there is no news in the paper – well then seek in the Torah, in inferences: R' Joel!…according to how the Zamość Kabbalist wrote, the exorcist of the dybbuks By him, with God's help, it will not be necessary to blow the shofar already… And here, it is now Passover season… and it is said…Oy, it is still said! A young lad came from Piosk…barefoot and in tatters: he personally saw! ‘Belzec’ – he says…he tells about things that can cause a rock to tremble… Only – Jews…take comfort and holler at him: what do I know of that place! One must be insane to hear out everyone in this way: What does it mean? Taking people, entire cities and – just like that!…simply to – – – Though – before dawn, at the first sprouting of the young dew All the crooked arteries of the city were provisioned with armament by the blond men… * * * Plik…Plik…plik…how the black muzzles of guns would puncture the white day In his golden Sabbath sleep…Hah, what is this shooting off about here!? Father is still tranquil…ritually washing off his fingernails, in piety And through the crack in the window shutter, he looks at the inert alley way. – ‘Well, now!’ He bellows into the house… that means: It really isn't that! Look, there goes a little boy in tears…a child is aggravated somewhere close by And from there, the larger street, at the very place fronting on the market A woman with hair parted shrieks in a disheveled state – – – Bukh! Bukh-bukh-bukh! Little tendrils of smoke pass over the wooden rooftops And the ghetto shacks, with their eternal submissiveness, bow themselves, and bow And father: maybe, they have come to shoot birds in the middle of the city! Despite the fact that the screaming from all around becomes ever clearer and louder – – – Aha! It paralyzes the head… in the suddenly frightened brains And everything pulls at once…shouting…hide yourself, and creeps out: Can it really happen here? Or is the fear truly for naught And the insane breaking of window panes and chopping down doors is also for naught!?… Father finally says, in the middle of reciting from out of the siddur: – This panic can, God forbid, bring down a misfortune on us… Though God knows how the wailing had become so widespread And frightened footsteps scuffle about the entire house…

[Page 542]

They are already chasing out the neighbor…they are already running from all about…yes, they are driving us! To the marketplace…and I am among the multitude: Tramp! Tramp-Tramp! It seems as if the young Piosker lad's laugh is being echoed, The frozen one, from yesterday: Fools! And yet, we too did not believe… 2. We have sought to protect ourselves with something for a long time already: Sought to get ourselves listed for work… have some kind of excuse… Because rumors do not come from just themselves And even a lie needs something on which to attach itself… Such an adage, came from Pinia Pearl, the ghetto pessimist: Flies need a dung heap on which to grow from – – – So everyone quietly decided to himself: Well, it is lost…yet it is always better if one has a piece of paper… So Jews went of to cut the turf and to dig out canals One registered for coal mining and for building of barracks… Watched one's self, that the information in the book should be accurate And in general, to be in order with them in all respects – – – Despite this – Pinia… wow, did he become a skeptic, Pinia! – Jews! He says – let us lie; we cannot trust him! He is shouted down, he's stopped from talking – when he speaks – except… Even though one knows that he understands the situation… Only – Shabbes! Oh, woe, how can one pick up and go!? Means are sought to get out of doing this and leaving it for a weekday They don't come… and on the morrow come beatings… or just plain screams… And sometimes the book is sent – let it be there… The foreman pushes it into the office with all his force And the conscript stamps it, signs it hurriedly – The people are, in the meantime, allocated to the labor And he doesn't have the exact count in his head… Of course the heart pounds all day and flutters – Will the game not fall through this time, on this day? It is possible that the German control will swarm over the ghetto… But you can see how it has come to be up until now!… Also the Sabbath has become shrunken and run lean Many streets have been cut out of its trembling wings Many of its friends have avoided it like a danger… But who, at a time like this, can complain!? Like its Jews, it must cram itself into a crowded little shack And satisfy itself with a quiet hum on its behalf – – – And if the lair of its Sabbath is trampled underfoot along the roads It knows that it is forbidden to hold this against anyone… * * *

[Page 543]

It has become strictly forbidden to carry on any contact with God Since he has permitted the Jews to be driven out from everywhere… Only wood gaped out of the holy ark-like skin When the horses of the conscripts crossed the threshold of the Bet HaMedrash – – – The covers of the Torah scrolls and the Ark covering blushed red in shame As if they wanted to spill blood here But only God himself suspended with his munificence And did not even attempt to exercise his own powers – – – When the curtains, pale and blanched wrapped themselves about the writ And in shame, tore itself in mourning at the foot of the balustrade And a horse neighed, victoriously from its pail When the earth, with piety, kissed a Torah fragment – – – Later on, Germans went from house to house Looking for prayer shawls, volumes of the Pentateuch…. Phylacteries and mezuzahs… And they – like children whose mother had become nakedly abused Permitted themselves to be taken into custody, with a tiny orphan-like whine… For a bit of time, the windows in the synagogues let rain run on them like tears Screaming through the panes with the formerly sacred wastes… But the requisite stable-like condition eagerly enveloped it And the shouting of the ‘Heils’ of the conscripts and the horses drowned them out… Later on the Judenrat relocated there… In the stable that the Bet HaMedrash had become, the destroyed one, laid waste Quietly Jews were slaughtered… gathering them on lists And kept the synagogue ready – as a place to store a legacy – – – By day, weeping came from there, and it reverberated imploringly – Wanted to obtain a hearing – to extend another month… But the hearts had turned to wood – like a Holy Ark without a Torah Scroll And poisoned by a night, that had been dissipated in a drunken revelry – – – Jews with prayer in their hearts had already resigned from there And went to hide themselves in nooks along with God At least there was a need to scream, to find a way to split open the heavens And not to hammer the shutters closed and listen to the door – – – 3. I looked as if God himself had been tossed out of the heavens His mission was taken over by killers, and at their head – Sammael… They covered the soft blue skies with Panzers made of heavy steel And left him to stew their along with his congregation…. Yet the Jews took him up like a king in the rags of a mendicant Giving him – in Bereleh's Heder – what they could – a tiny corner

[Page 544]

And on a Sabbath morning, eyes squinted with vows: No matter what will be – we do not break the oath – – – It is Pinia that came there – to pour his gall out there And his father-in-law Nehemiah – with the velvet eyes of a saint And also White Mekhl was there, an octogenarian research scholar Who looked for the heart of the world – that had been cut out by knives – – – And Yohanan Ka”tz, the sharp-minded one – the old gray genius Who swayed so with those who surrounded him And Herschel Zhimnovodow – a Shokhet in white socks Who had been driven from the ‘Torah and Greatness’ of Wloclawek And Yossel'eh Kalechstein the orator; a mouth that pours forth pearls And the guardian of the ledgers – the elder Chaim Yosheh With the smile of a doer of good deeds that can douse but is itself not extinguished Even those trachoma-tears drip from reddened eyes – – – And more like these and more… sullen Jews…silent… Having filled the small room to its brim And once God shimmered over them anew And left with a sack full of charity where the last of the prayers had burst – – – * * * And Bereleh Weinmakher alone… an old man of over seventy With an enchanting white beard, tall and straight as a tree… Protected the softness with his voicev That from the beginning of time had become frightened… He remained with only a grandchild, a frightened sickly girl Whose eyes pierced everything crookedly, like a stinging bee And a face that colored the reddest dress with a skeleton's green Even the strapped down hair on the honed visor – – – But – this Esther was clever… constantly pleading: Grandpa! You'll see…they will take note…Jews are coming here…so many… I don't know, Grandpa…I have such a peculiar premonition… But Bereleh… – a master he was at glossing over! And so he smoothed her tousled hair, wanting to braid her locks with his fingers… And wanting to make her spears of hair softer with the quiet, soft words: Esther…I don't have to tell you what's going on inside of me… And I do not know what you have gotten into your head – – – She was not left with more than this one grandfather – so she became still… Standing outside and watching when the Jews were at prayer[2]

[Page 545]

Though the thoughts painted peculiar undecipherable thoughts on the sky Which awakened fear in her constantly and upset her – – – So she always would fall upon and hammer on the locked door: Once it was because a conscript happened to be running by Or a curious gentile, who thought, why is this not open… So she would insert her voice into the crevice: Jews! And vey iz mir! And so an unnatural silence gripped everyone's throatv Prayer shawls were mercilessly kneaded into black-striped bunches The swifter would hide a prayer shawl under the bench And the shutters thrown back from the windows… But a little at a time, one became inured to her alarms Once again, we sat and prayed…discussed… Even once took a flyer at politics, toyed with predictions… And feverishly went along with war to conquer Jaecke – – – 4. On that Sabbath, nobody had a prior inkling… Before dawn, one wrapped one's self in a prayer shawl under the overcoat Until the time to pray came, a small volume of Psalms was opened, once conversed with acquaintances… And a Bar Mitzvah was even called for his first aliyah [to the Torah] – – – Only a portion were missing, who had picked up a rumor from somewhere They had acquaintances among the police… members of the Judenrat as friends; So they were secretly told: don't go today… Only in that moment of exigency can one indeed see who has come or not?!… The prayers stretch on…paying no mind that the heavens are locked to them… Colliding together in the air…angry, and begging each other's pardon… It is good that they tear up hearts, warm the lips And for the pain of their attempt – no one has the proper measure… And – Esther, as always…looks with her sleepy eyes out into the street Looks and ferrets out ever hair of unrest from the womenfolk… But the byways are still, sleep on like lambs And the sun, not well-kempt, gives off hairlike rays in jest… Only at the former Bet HaMedrash – Oy, all the police! They are going there on the run…jumping hither and thither… A taxi cruises over there… Gestapo with arms…. And the command shouting rides above the unrest – – –

[Page 546]

And the roaches scatter, in boots…with red heads They crawl all over the ghetto, storm to wherever there is a doorway – – – A thought comes with a nail, and strikes one in the head: – What's going on, what? Listen how blows are falling! The grandfather instructed her: don't come disturbing us every minute! She discards what she has newly seen, and takes herself back Even if an insane fever wildly is consuming the sight And the report of machine guns already laughs in through a window – – – This time she did not knock, she did not tear the lock from the door… Her teeth clamped together, and the scream came out soundlessly… The fingers only scrabbled in a fainting grasp Like an echo that is lost in the distance – – – * * * Everything crashed down at one time, like a lion cornered in a trap – – – The stillness tore the mouth, and cackled like an animal made wild The guns speared cynically into the naked mouth of the street And on the bare surface of the earth, the growth grew green in military order… They tore themselves from their place, glistening with steel heads Springing through windows and houses and dragged the naked out from there From a porch, a man rolled down, and stained the boards with blood His jacket flew off separately, and was bunched up in covering the ground… Outside, police ran in a stream – paid with the thirtieth silver With Stars of David in glistening shame, like a sacred symbol profaned… 5. The transfixed girl was swept aside with boots And the little door was dealt a blow – so as to make it groan The threshold , with quiet pain, gritted its teeth And the bolt braced itself – as if it was threatened here – – – And it got still there – as if the world had been struck dumb And with sign language they signaled to each other with hands white from fright Only the reverberation from the door echoed from the pale walls As if it would have playfully bounced off of them… And suddenly a bit of life – along with a man who jumps from the window… The fingers wrapped around the fringes wring themselves in the folds of the prayer shawl Heads wearing yarmulkes grow in holes And with a lament, they fall into the green-helmeted ring – – – There is no choice, and the hands of despair fall apart And the congregation is ripped apart like a prematurely born infant taken out in pieces… The housed are sealed with manufactured blinds As if they never knew who the congregation was – – –

[Page 547]

Small arms fire is heard, beatings cause wreckage – The fenced in marketplace awaits the Sabbath congregation And his stinging mouth gapes: How strong Jews are! Everything is bloodied, and nobody can die – – – * * *

‘Evacuation’ of Jews from Zamość in the Belzec death camp

[Page 548]

The blood dripped from his face – and it dyed his prayer shawl red Herschel bends over: not to be a hypocrite on this day… And the gray of White Mekhl again wisely stayed silent As if he was searching himself, whether all of this was not a falsehood… Only the frail Rabbi ‘of the people,’ Yossel'eh Kalechstein Has become the emissary for everyone's crying – – – Zamość - 1942; Buchenwald, May 1945

Translator's footnotes:

1. Editor's Footnote: ibid Return
2. We bring forward this excerpt from Jekuthiel Zwillich's account of the Extermination of the Jews of Zamość, to clarify the role of the little girl, Esther:
   The Judenrat represented that it is strictly forbidden for people to gather in one house in the Neustadt. However, in the ghetto, no great mind was paid to this order. Jews would come together and pray in a congregation. So the police would come, and detain the Jews, and it was then necessary to pay a fine. The Jews, however, arrived at the following stratagem – when they wanted to pray, they would set small boys outside in front, who would indicate if they saw Jewish policemen coming. The Jews would then flee. The older Jews, who did not have a capacity to run, had to pay a fine. My father, for example, paid the fine three times for this ‘infraction’ – twice 10 zlotys, and the third time – 20 zlotys. Return

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