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On the 2^nd of September 1941, the last order of the “local commandant” was officially issued: every Jew, 12 years of age and older, must wear on his clothes, on the left side of his breast and on his back, yellow tags.

I wore the yellow tags [or “yellow patches”] until I left the ghetto. When I crossed the river, together with my son, we tore off the tags and, after thinking for a while what to do with them, we instinctively hid them in our bags. As it turned out later, we had both the same thought: if they kill us, it will make no difference whether they find the patches in our bags or not; if we will escape and survive the Germans, we will keep them as a memory of the moments of suffering, pain and humiliation. However, this was not to happen: our four patches did not survive to “see” the end of the war and the defeat of the Germans.

The long winter-nights in the forest became more and more tiresome. Two weeks have passed since our successful attack on the town Razvashov, where we have destroyed the garrison and captured several wagons of wheat flour, meat and brown sugar. So we had a supply of food for a while. We also benefitted from the fact that a heavy snow covered our tracks: we moved about 70 kilometers deeper into the forest and began organizing our camp. First we dug some wells, and then we erected “kaybashes” – specific partisan tents. The tent was made of thin, cleaned pine branches, arranged with their tips upward and fastened with a thin and strong branch of a birch tree. This structure was covered with hay, which was

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found in abundance in the place. We left a hole on one side, to serve as entrance, and usually covered it with an old sack. In the middle of the tent we arranged a quadrangle of four heavy logs, where a fire would be kept permanently. Around that, on a thick layer of hay, the partisans would sit or lie down. To erect such a tent took only a few minutes, and it had room for 10 -12 men. Two partisans were always on watch in every tent: one guard outside and one inside the tent. The latter's job was to keep the fire burning, to boil water for tea, and at night, while the partisans were asleep, to keep them from scorching their boots at the fire.

Usually we slept with our clothes on, with our feet toward the fire. When one of us would, in his sleep, stretch his leg too close to the fire or place it on the log, the guard would hit it with the long stick he always held in his hand, and the partisan would draw his foot back, out of danger.

Our friends the partisans were getting impatient – sitting over two weeks “without work.” The Germans stopped looking for us and returned to their barracks. Talks began about planning and organizing an “operation.” There were suggestions – one more fantastic than the other, and plans – one more daring than the other. A surprise-attack was out of the question, because we did not have enough ammunition for that purpose. We decided, therefore, to go out in small groups through the region and attack the Starostes, the secret agents and the families of the Ukrainian police. My order was: hang the Starostes and the secret agents on the gates of their houses and “bomb” the families of the police officers – which, in partisan

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jargon, meant: confiscate the cow, the pigs and even the chickens and set fire to the place. Through this operation we intended to accomplish two goals: first, to punish them for their betrayal and second, to intimidate and frighten all those who sympathized with the Germans and helped them. We Jews had a third aim as well: revenge on the Ukrainian treachery, which had remained imprinted in our memory from the time we lived in the ghetto.

We separated into four groups, each group going in a different direction. We decided to meet after five days, that is, on Saturday, in the Jokovyetz village, on the border between Zhitomir and the Kiew Gubernia. I was leading a group of 30 partisans and my son another group, of 25 partisans, armed with a grenade thrower. My son's pseudonym as a partisan was “Lyanka.” The other two groups were led by Dimitrenko and Sobolev.

Saturday at dawn I arrived with my group in Jokovyetz. Dimitrenko and Sobolev and their partisans were already there, alive and well. We were waiting for Lyanka and his group. We shared with one another the reports about our activities during the last few days: we had executed several dozens of Starostes and policemen, burned over 30 farms that had belonged to policemen and secret agents, and spread panic among the Germans and their helpers over a radius of several hundred kilometers. In the Pavlovitch village I myself have hanged the Staroste and his wife. While performing a search in the house, I had found a petition to the “Regional Commissar” to allow him to punish 37 peasants who have gathered, without a special permit, dry twigs for heating their homes. Since the Staroste was illiterate his wife Jevdokia had signed the petition for him. As an accomplice, we executed her together with her husband.

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After we have told all our “heroic” stories, we established guards for the night and we lay down to rest.

I could not fall asleep. I was worried about my son, who hadn't shown up yet. Every few minutes I went to look out the window. Suddenly, I saw shadows running through the forest, hiding under the thick trees. I looked more carefully and observed that the shadows were running toward the frozen river and disappeared there. I woke some of my friends, and even before they approached the window to look outside we heard several shots and cries of pain coming from the partisan who stood guard outside. I said: take your weapons! and soon all partisans were ready. But even before we could reach the windows, a rain of bullets struck the house and all windowpanes were broken. I ordered my partisans to line up at the walls between the windows and wait, and I sent one of them to the attic to survey the situation. Suddenly all became quiet – the calm before the storm. In a few minutes the partisan in the attic announced that on the frozen river, between its tall banks, a German unit of about 50 men was stationed, and another group, about the same size, encircled our building, with intention to attack us from the back.

The situation was very serious, but a miracle saved us. At the critical moment, Lyanka and his group of partisans arrived. They attacked the Germans, 23 Nazis and an officer were taken prisoners.

After an investigation, it became clear that most of them were “Volks-Deutschen” from the colony near the town Novogrod-Vohlinsk. They began begging for mercy. At my demand they gave an exact description of the annihilation of the Novgorod-Vohlinsk Jews, among whom I had many acquaintances and friends, since this town was only about 28 kilometers from the shtetl of my birth.

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Revenge! The artist: Chaim Bargal

We could see on their faces that they had taken no small part in the action. At my command, they were all shot.

The officer, seeing the end of his soldiers, refused to talk. However, my friend had the means to make him talk, and he told us that his name was first lieutenant Knapf and he came from Stuttgart. When he recovered after having been wounded at the Moscow front, he was given the rank of Head Commandant of the SS unit assigned to the destruction of the partisan units in the Zhitomir and Kiev regions.

Lyanka liked the uniform of the officer, and decided to exchange his old clothes for the officer's uniform. As he was emptying the pockets of his old jacket he found the two yellow patches that he had kept there from the day we left the ghetto. He asked the officer whether he knew what these yellow things were. “No” answered the officer. “I shall explain” – said Lyanka – “your Führer ordered us Jews to wear these tags so that we can be recognized as Jews on sight. We are wearing them on our chests and our backs.” And then he yelled “take off your shirt!” – and without waiting, Lyanka tore off the officer's shirt and with two pins pinned the yellow patches on his bare flesh, one on his chest and one on his back.

“Now strip naked, the same way my mother and my 13-year-old sister were ordered to do before they were murdered.” All partisans curiously followed the scene – they tore off his pants, his boots, his underwear. He remained standing in front of us

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stark naked. The temperature was 15 centigrade below zero and a strong wind was blowing. “Now march forward!” Lyanka called, and with his stretched hand holding his pistol showed him the direction toward the dead Germans lying in a pile on the ground. Suddenly he called him back, all the while playing with the trigger of his gun pointing to him. The German looked around terrified. On the spot where he had conducted earlier the investigation, Lyanka ordered him to stop. “What you are feeling now, we have felt during all the time we lived in the ghetto. Now lie on the ground with your face down.” The German obeyed. Lyanka bent over him, placed the gun on his skull and held it for a few long minutes. The German moved restlessly waiting for the end.

“What you are experiencing now, the 2,200 Jews in Korets, among them my dear mother and beloved little sister, have experienced on the 22 May 1942, when they were thrown, naked, into the grave, ordered to straighten out the corpses that were already lying there and lie upon them face down. Then a German shot them all.”

Some time later, a peasant woman from the village told us: The day after you left the village, a very large unit of Germans arrived. They surrounded our houses on all sides, assembled the residents and began an investigation. During the investigation they beat us until many of us lost consciousness. The Germans demanded that we show them where the “Dyadya Misha” and his partisans were hiding. We all replied that we did not know any of the partisans. For two hours they tortured us. Then they ordered us to load the dead Germans onto the wagons. When their commander approached

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the naked body with the yellow patch on his back and turned him over, he saw that his face was unrecognizable – a raw piece of flesh. When he noticed the yellow patch on his chest as well, he touched him with the tip of his boot and said – “Das ist ein Jude [this is a Jew], he can remain here.” When all were ready to leave, they set fire to the village and departed. We, the residents, with only summer clothes on our backs, fled through the heavy cold to the neighboring villages to find a roof over our heads. Before we left our village we dragged the dead German to the woods, prey for the wolves.

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In the year 1937, I married and settled in Rowno. When Rowno was invaded by the Nazis, my husband, Shachna Marcus, was accused of communism and was sentenced to death by the Hitlerist murderers. Others from Korets who were murdered at the same time were Berl Shneider, Alek Fershtig, and Shlomo Sirota.

At the beginning of the year 1942, the Gestapo entered my house (I was not at home at that time), and they murdered my daughter Baila. My second daughter, Tzila, miraculously survived.

After the first great slaughter in Rowno, the murderers assembled all the young and capable women and sent them to work in the German homes. My fate led me to work in the home of Major Sifier. There, I met a German by the name of Gustav Krieger, who worked as a bookkeeper in a large provisions store. Krieger was a secret communist.

Gustav Krieger

In fact, my daughter Tzila and I were actually saved by him. She was two years old at that time, and this was along with another Korets girl, Fania Marshalek.^[1]

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The Tragic Death of Dr. Tzeitlin and His Family

Not far from me lived the well-known Koretser, Dr. Tzeitlin. I often met him in the Rowno ghetto. He lived with his family. I introduced him to Herr Gustav, and the good German promised that he would do everything to save the doctor and his large family.

Once, the German came to me and informed me: “Quickly run home! Get your child and come to my house quickly! And if possible, I will also go to Dr. Tzeitlin's home and tell him to save himself.” The wagons were ready to transport the last few hundred Rowno Jews to Nova-Dolina. There was a masonry there, and the ditches were, so-called, prepared.

I went to the German's home with my child and with Fania Marshalek. He hid us in his home.

The following morning, when the German brought me some food, he told me that in the morning he had gone to Dr. Tzeitlin's house, but to his great shock, he found them all dead. They breathed out their holy souls through the poison that the doctor had injected into their veins. They all lay in their beds. The grandchild lay in the mother's hands, the son, Nyumo, lay together with his mother. The oldest daughter lay together with her husband. The doctor himself was in his cabinet, on a stool, holding the venom in his hand.

A short while later I asked the German man to take me to Korets. I wanted to be together with my brothers and sisters before the last days of life. I gave him the address of the Christian Korets driver, Wenski. The German brought the driver to me. When he saw me, he became very nervous and then crossed himself. His first and final words were: “Let God help you, and not me.”

When I told this to the German, he became very angry and

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he said: “If that Ukrainian swine does not want to help you, then I will see what I can do for you. I want you to live, so that you can tell the world what the accursed ruler has done to your tortured people.”

He left me very angrily. In the evening, he came with a package of food. He said that he would come back in about three days' time.

On the fourth day, he came with a friend of his who used to drive around with a filming apparatus and present an anti-Jewish presentation for the Ukrainian population. They told me that they were in Kremenitz, Lutsk, Dubno, and they did not see one single Jew.

I begged him to go to Korets and see if there were still any Jews. When he came back, he was very happy to say that there were still some Jews in Korets.

The next morning, he brought me Ukrainian clothing and a large basket which the women peasants used to carry their dairy products. He also brought clothing for my little daughter and for Fania Marshalek.

Shortly before dawn, he told me to go across the train tracks near the train station. There, the propaganda car waited for us. They took us until Hoszcza. The entire time, we were thinking that who knew what was going to happen, maybe they were taking us to the Gestapo. Because we were sitting in a closed car, we did not know where we were going.

The car stopped near Hoszcza, and the German told us to quickly get out, because the car was checked a few times, and he was afraid that they would open the doors and find us.

There was still another 28 kilometers to Korets. Herr Krieger gave me a pouch of money and said: “Berta, do not lose your strength. You will yet be able to take revenge on the spilled blood of your brothers and sisters. I will still come to Korets and bring you good news.”

When I remained standing on the Korets- Rowno highway, I did not know where I was. It was dark before my eyes and I could not stand on my feet. I looked at the road as if in a dream. Woe, what has become of us! It used to be so joyous on this road. Korets youth used to have festivities on this road. And

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their songs resounded in the distant forests and fields. And now, everything was so empty, so sad, there was not even a hint of any Jews.

I went with my child, who was barefoot, to the Ukrainian path and arrived to the village of Kudrinko near Korets. The heat was terrible. It was before harvest time. I stopped over and requested some water from a Christian. When his wife brought out some water, she recognized me right away and said: “You are the wife of Shachna Markus!” It was a great miracle for me. The Christian woman took us into her house, told us to rest, and then gave us food. Her husband tied up the wagon, put hay in top of us so that no one should find us, and then took us until Somostriol, 18 kilometers before Korets.

From there, we went on foot to Korets. When we arrived, we saw Jews working in the stone masonry. When I got closer, they signaled to me that I should not go onto the highway but should take a side street.

Among those Jews, I recognized Shunya Shapiro. He shouted to me that I should go through the church, then go down to the shkolna [school] street, and from there keep going.

I went that way until I arrived in the Korets ghetto. Markusz was the first one to approach me. He recognized me right away and told me good news, that my brother-in-law Volf Tkatz was still alive. To my great sadness, I did not meet my sister or my mother. They were killed during the first slaughter.

When I entered the ghetto I found, along with my brother-in-law, our beloved neighbor and sexton of the shul, Reb Yeshiya Ukher. He told me that when the Germans invaded the city, they killed his one and only “kaddish” [son, who would recite kaddish after his parents' passing]. His mother, Chaike, ran to save their son, so the murderers killed her too.

Reb Yeshiya sat alone in the ghetto. He hardly slept, just read the holy books day and night, prayed and recited Psalms continuously.

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In the final hours before death, before they marched the Jews to the ditches, Reb Yeshiya lit many candles and prepared himself to recite the vidui.

I cried bitterly and pleaded: “Reb Yeshiya, have pity. Come with me, let us better die of starvation rather than fall into the hands of these murderers.” Reb Yeshiya sadly replied: “Batia, my child, I will not go with you. There is no hiding place for us Jews.” He put his hands onto my head and blessed me, crying like a child. He said: “If you survive, relate what they did to the Korets Jews.”

We kissed each other. Reb Yeshiya put on his tallis, placed it over his head, and in a voice that could move a stone, he began to recite the vidui. The candles burnt sadly, and enveloped the room with the brightness of a great and terrifying Judgment Day.

Those few weeks that I lived in the Korets ghetto were terrible. Blood ran from my heart, watching the destruction and hearing the cries of our dear ones as they were led to the slaughter.

I well knew that they would make Korets free of Jews, and that the same fate of the Rowno Jews awaited these Korets Jews. I waited for news from the German every day, in order to know what I should do next.

Two days before the second “aktzia” [organized deportation to death camps], the propaganda car came to Korets and presented a film in the “Sokol” hall. A young child approached me and gave me a letter. I recognized the handwriting of Gustav Krieger. The contents of the letter were: “They are digging ditches! Leave Korets today! Quickly go to the German who is in charge of the stone masonry in Korets and he will tell you what to do.” It appeared that Herr Krieger had discussed with the director of the stone masonry that he should save me.

Very soon, I went to the Korets Judenrat [Jewish council], and there I met Moshe Krasnostawski, sitting at the table. He shouted: “Batia, I think you have news from the German!” So, I told him everything. With dark colors, I described to him our hopeless situation – as quickly as possible, we must

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leave the ghetto, because if not, then we would all be lost. Every minute is dangerous. A huge fire is burning, let us save ourselves.

That day was a very tragic one. Markus hanged himself. People ran like crazy, not knowing where to run. All the streets were closed and guarded by Ukrainian police.

That day, Roza Sapir and her children came to me. She told me that she hoped to escape to the home of the Christian Yusef, who worked in their factory. And in the final moments, I saw Aaron Shenker and his wife Taibel. They told me that they knew some Christians in the village of Budki.

That day should be cursed. My eyes saw such gruesome sights which, to this day, still cause terrible shudders. I had a neighbor in the ghetto, by the name of Neiterman. He lived with his children and sister. They were holding packages in their hands and then took to the road, each on his own. It was horrifying to watch how their own father was leaving his own young children and would sacrifice himself in the name of God.

That day, they brought back Yechezkel (Chazkel) the harness maker's two daughters, Faige and Sonia. The girls had run away and hoped to get to Russia, but a Christian from Korets recognized them and brought them back to Korets. They murdered the unfortunate girls in the Christian cemetery. When their father found out about the horrible tragedy, he immediately hanged himself in the sugar factory where he worked.

A day after the last slaughter, a German removed Nyusia and Ida Michelson, who worked for him. He wanted to save them but they were immediately taken behind the city and killed on the spot. When the brother, Yuzek Michelson, found out about the murder, he hanged himself right away.

The death of the two sisters was a horrible experience for me

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Nyusia Michelson was my best friend. We studied together and were also neighbors.

But as they told me about what happened, it seemed that not all the Korets Jews died passively in the name of God. There were also incidents of strong resistance, and I want to describe two such incidents:

The two sons of the butcher Chaim Raizel'e, hid themselves on a rooftop during the first slaughter. When the Germans came to forcefully remove them, they fell onto the murderers with rakes in their hands and stabbed them to death. But after that, the sons themselves were murdered.

A second incident: At the death pits, Ben-Tzion (Bentzy) Krasnostawski assaulted a German. And with his nails, he scratched out the German's eyes and then choked him to death. But then he too was soon murdered.

After all these horrifying images, I lost the energy to flee. But here, my child gave me power and said: “Mama, you see that everyone is fleeing. Let us run too!” She was still very young, but she already understood a lot. She screamed: “I want to live! Come! Let us run!”

I put on my Ukrainian clothing and went to find the German from the stone masonry. When I approached him, he took me into another room and said that he well knew Herr Krieger and he knew what he had done for me. He told me: “When they will capture you, you should not mention Krieger's name nor mine.”

He told me to take the route of the “korczyk.” Now, he said, there was no guard there. I crossed the bridge and continued further. I saw how the Ukrainian police were chasing the Jews. The women were carrying all their Jewish possessions and goods. From time to time, I heard shooting.

When my child and I crossed the river, I met Yuzik, who had worked in Sapir's factory. He sarcastically asked me if they had started killing the Jews. I did not answer him. He quickly went to his home and Roza Sapir and her children quickly ran out of there.

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I was exhausted from the running, and I hid about 20 meters from his house, under a tree. That same evening, I saw how two Ukrainian policemen were holding Roza and her children, and how they soon killed her in Yuzik's yard.

For two weeks, I wandered from one village to the next, not knowing where I was. When I came to the village of Budki, I met the Shmutter sisters. They knew that I was able to sew well, so they suggested that I stay there because I would find some work there. That evening, I went around to the important people of the village and they helped me. I sewed coats for them and also taught their children. When it was the time of studying “God's Creations” then I taught the children about the calendars. The parents highly approved of my teachings. Now, the fact that I used to sit in class and listen to the sermons of the Korets priest, came in very handy. I learned the Christian traditions from my Christian neighbors.

I stayed in Budki for a few months. Once the Korets police came to Budki and did a “cleansing” of Jews in the forests and the houses. I could not remain there any longer and then went into the forest.

The nights in the forest were terrifying. You always heard shooting and screams, and screams from Jews as well. I was in constant danger because there were always hungry wolves all around.

One evening, the Guralnik twins came to me in the forest and said that they wanted to go across the Slucz River, because they heard that there were partisans on the other side. I begged that they take me with them, and they promised that they would come back tomorrow. But tragically, the following day, they were no longer among the living.

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The Tragic End of Gedaliah the Driver

Two days later, Gedaliah the driver came to me and said that Aaron Shenker and his family wanted to come and see me. But on their way, the Ukrainian police murdered them.

When Gedaliah came to me, he looked terrible. He had long hair and was sick. He said to me, “If you will survive, then say that I had no more energy to wander around in such a sick world. My tormented body can no longer withstand the pain. The only thing I can do is return to Korets and surrender into the hands of the police.”

I begged him to have mercy on himself. I tried to free him from his own terrible mind frame, but my words made no difference. He said, “I can no longer live in this world without my wife or my child. It's too bad that I ran away from the community grave. There is no longer any hope that any of us will survive.”

With this depressing thought he left to Korets and immediately turned himself into the hands of the police. These murderers soon recognized him. He lived in Korets only for a few months. Before they killed him, the two-legged animal murders humiliated the human and godly element of the good Gedaliah: They harnessed him like a horse onto a wagon, and he dragged barrels of water for the police. Finally, there was an order to shoot Gedaliah. These thieves did a good deed for Gedaliah: They brought him to the Jewish cemetery and shot him there.^[2]

In a short time, some kindhearted Christians took me across the Sluszcza and brought me to the village Piplo. I stayed at the home of a Christian by the name of Mikolayitz'ik, and I sewed coats for him. One evening,

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I saw two soldiers approaching the house. I became very frightened because I thought these were bandits. When I went to hide, the Christian told me not to be afraid. “These are partisans!” I could not believe my ears, could not believe what I had heard. That's how great was my surprise. Among the partisans, there was a Jew from Kiev by the name of Kupershmidt. The Christian took all the partisans into his house, and presented me to them as a Jewish child. When Kupershmidt saw me, he cried bitterly. My loneliness, my pain-filled face moved him to tears. Another partisan said to Kupershmidt: “Dear captain, calm down!” He asked me where I was from, and how I remained alive. He added that I was the only female he had met during the war.

Kupershmidt promised me that he would take me into his squad [unit] if he would get the consent from the officials. His squad was not exceptional in their special love for Jews. He said a heartfelt goodbye and promised that he would come back for me.

Meanwhile, I sewed camouflage clothing for the partisans, and I would get to see them. Once, sitting at the machine, I saw a female partisan walk by. When she came into my room, to my great surprise she embraced me and began to kiss me intensely. She asked me: “Batia, don't you recognize me? I am Yitta Shapira!” Yitta looked wonderful in her camouflage clothing. She said: “Come with me. Here is the forest where you will meet familiar people.” She found herself in the unit with the name Shitav. There, I met my cousin Yisroel Fuks. He worked as a blacksmith for the partisans. I was very happy to see partisans, and some of my good friends among them.

A few days later, a partisan came with an order that they should bring me to the unit. It appeared that the officials decided that I should be taken in, because they were afraid that the bandits

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would catch me with the camouflage clothing, and then I would be forced to reveal the place where the partisans were located.

The unit that took me in was the famous unit of General Medvedev. There were about 6,000 men. Among them, there were thirty odd Jews from Tuczin, Mezritch, Rowno, and also some Russian Jews.

The discipline of the Medvedev unit was awesome. It was so strict, that even the partisans from other units feared those from Medvedev. This was a special punishment group, whose goal was to capture Nazi leaders alive, those who exemplified themselves with their cruelty, and bring them to the partisan officials, and there, shoot them in front of the partisans.

Now, a life of great danger and power began for me. I will write about my first “fire immersion,” the dangerous mission that I carried out along with other partisans from my unit. An order came from Moscow to go to Novograd-Wolynsk, and bring back alive the German commandant of the city who had tortured the population terribly. We did this “piece of work” together with the partisans from General Kobpak.

How did we capture the commandant? We dressed up a female partisan in a beautiful bridal dress, decorated the horse and wagon with colorful ribbons, with all the hype of a Ukrainian wedding. The “groom” was a son from a partisan family that was in Novograd-Wolynsk and who had maintained contact with us. We all got dressed as real family members of the couple and we went to the “wedding.”

The groom's parents of Novograd-Wolynsk invited the commandant and his wife to participate in the wedding celebration. The commandant was given the best whiskeys to drink, and when he was somewhat drunk, we told him that we were taking him home. Since the parent of the groom was an “intimate” friend of the commandant, he did not give this any thought. The partisans sat him

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on the wagon, and took him into the forest. They tied him to a tree, stuffed his mouth, and then he awaited his judgement.

The partisans gave me a special task: to strip the commandant's wife totally naked. When she was completely stripped, naked as the day she was born, they filled the sled with snow, and she was placed into a snow tub. Her body turned blue from the cold. I tore off pieces of ice and placed them around her shivering body. I had a very strange feeling. I was taking revenge with my own hands!

When they brought her into the forest, she pleaded that we let her live and she would tell us very valuable information. She actually did give over important information, and then later, she was tied to the same tree where her husband was tied, and then both were shot.

The second task that our unit took on was to go to Rowno and bring back alive the German judge who always sentenced innocent Christians to being hanged, by accusing them of being partisans. For this task, we used three partisans who were Russian Germans, and understandably, knew the German language fluently. They came to Rowno as German officers, with important documents which were prepared by our connection in Rowno.^[3]

They came in a truck and informed the guard that they had an order to go up to the judge. When they went up, they found General Koch, Hitler's right hand, with the judge. They did not react, lifted their hands, and shouted “Heil Hitler!” then took out the document which read that the judge must

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come for an urgent meeting in Kreminitz. The judge wanted to treat them with a schnapps, but they said that the time was short and they could not waste time.

When the judge went into the vehicle, he ordered two German individuals to ride ahead of him. But when the “bird” was already in the car, the partisans were sure that the judge would not “fly” away from them.

Near the village of Tzuman (behind Rowno), the partisans joined the military trucks that blocked the road. The judge gave an order to his guards that they should make way for him. He did not know, the dog, that this would be his final trip. When they had already traveled a few kilometers past the trucks, the partisans stuffed the mouth of the judge and then they shot the two guards.^[4]

General Medvedev gave an order to bring the judge back alive, but he choked to death on the way, because his mouth was completely stuffed all the time.

When they saw the dead body of the judge, the Jewish partisans were very happy. We saw how the God of revenge had begun to judge the evil men. The judge had generated many Jewish victims during his time.

After our great achievements, an order came from Moscow that we had to bring back General Koch alive. The Nazi prestige would fall when people would find out that Hitler's right hand was sentenced by a partisan tribunal. I tried with all my energy to be part of this mission to clean out the world from the greatest murderer, who was personally responsible for all the slaughter of the Polish Jews. I wanted to choke him with my own hands. But for this dangerous mission, no women participated.

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Being a volunteer assistant in the partisan hospital, my job was to provide the partisans with quick means of assistance, with whatever they needed, right away. For this job, the best comrades of the unit were selected. I blessed them so that the merit of all the millions of lost Jewish souls should stand with them.

With great regret, the task ended with a huge catastrophe. When the partisans came to Rowno, Koch and his whole car of people went to the train and all the streets were being guarded by SS men. The control was very strong. A German officer went over to the partisans and told them to leave and go behind the city and give an order that all of them should guard the city well. One partisan shouted out: “Will follow the orders!” And he left. That very moment, the German officer noticed that something was not right and took to follow the partisans. When the partisans saw that the officer was chasing them at top speed, and was calling for help, they understood that they were lost. They stopped their truck, and when the Germans came closer, they threw grenades in order to protect themselves. The partisans exploded themselves with the last grenade.

The moment came when the commander of our unit placed a responsible mission on me, from which it was almost certain I would not emerge alive. I had to go to Brezhna to bring a secret letter to a local Christian there. He was connected to the partisans. Then I would bring back news from there.

I said goodbye to all the Jews and to my daughter who was two-and-a-half years old at that time, because I was sure that I was going to my own death. But I had a strong desire to fulfill my mission as a Jewish partisan.

Along with me came Sonia, a sixteen-year-old Jewish girl from Moscow, from the komsomol [young communist league]. When we arrived to the village of Mokvyn, we

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Partisans and those survivors from the forest, at a memorial in Tel Aviv, year 1959 Standing in the top row, from right to left: 1) Sholom Robert (Shonye), 2) Shmuel Vidro, 3) Yitte Karsh (Shapiro), 4) Simcha Gildenman (Lyonka), 5) Tzvi (Hershel) Parr, 6) Zahava Nudler, 7) Ettil Kleiner Second row, from right to left: 1) Avigdor Zaike, 2) Yisroel Fuks, 3) Hershel Grosveis, 4) --- Grosveis, 5) Leah Tsechovei (Shapiro), 6) Yocheved Halperin (Tsechovei), 7) Golde Zaike (Berezov) Third row, from right to left: 1) Malka Linik, 2) Chava Sorin, 3) Chaya Sarver, 4) Manye Strassberg, 5) Dora Rabinovitch (Strassberg), 6) Dov Bargal, 7) Dvoira Pirkes (Smoliar)

The Christian was very happy to see us because he had very good news to deliver. I received an exact number of how many German military members there were in Brezhna. Among other things, he

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said that the Germans were preparing to take the animals and horses from all the surrounding villages. This news had a tremendous message for us. Very devote partisans from our and from Kobpak's units surrounded all the villages, took all the animals and horses, and left nothing for the Germans. And since I brought this important news, my respect grew tremendously in the eyes of the partisans. Even the central government in Moscow knew of me.

I arrived in Brezhna around evening time, on the night of the month of March 1943. That same night, I had to leave where I was. The Christian harnessed his horses and then took us out of Brezhna. He brought us to a forest and showed us the shortest route to our destination. Ten kilometers before our unit, the scouts [razviyetchiki; Russian] arrived, and brought horses for us.

The partisans welcomed us with great joy. The greatest joy was among the Jews, who had already been crying for us as if we were dead. They did not believe that I would come back, because around Brezhna there were many German military, and the control was intense.^[5]

I was very happy to learn that Dr. Wallach was alive. One day, a poor man came to us to our unit, his name Sierkisman. He told me that he had met a Korets doctor-partisan named Wallach. From him, I found out that Dr. Wallach had received great praise from the partisan officers.

I worked very hard in the partisan hospital. I carried seriously wounded partisans in my arms. Because of that, they liked me and respected me. Our unit was very often bombed, and I had to carry the heavy wounded ones from one place to another.

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My Daughter Tzila Saves Many Partisans from Deathly Starvation

My daughter Tzila, as a seven-year-old child

Without a choice, the office settled my child in the village of Piplo, in the home of a Christian named Pilitzun. The partisans left a horse for the Christian and very sternly told him to take care of the child until they come back for her.

In a few days' time, the Germans bombed the village. Then the Christian took my daughter, took her into a dense forest, and left her there alone, “with God's mercy.” She was there alone for six weeks. She nourished herself with all kinds of plants. With her childish instinct, she chose grasses that had nutritional value. Later, the partisans used her discoveries and cooked foods with her grasses.

I want to make an important remark here, that at that time, we were already surrounded by the Nazi enemy and were cut off from all the surrounding villages, from which we used to get food and clothing. My daughter's discoveries simply saved many partisans from dying of hunger.

When they found my child, she was bloated from starvation. Her entire body was covered with moss. Her entire body was overgrown with hair as if like a bear. I became very frightened because with my own eyers, I could not recognize my child. But the doctor calmed me down. He told me that from the wild eating, her body became as if savage.

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When she would begin to live a normal life then she will regain her human body. And that is how it was. With time, the moss on her body disappeared.

My Tzila did not speak for the first few days. We thought that she had become mute out of fear. But in some time, her speech returned. When she began to talk, she told us about a terrifying episode that happened to her: When she was at the home of the Christian, the homeowners ran into the forest to hide from the Germans, and they left her alone in the house. Then, two individuals came shooting into the house. By chance, that same night, a Christian woman and her child came to visit the house. A bullet hit the woman and she died immediately. My Tzila hid under a cupboard and that is how she survived.

At the end of the year 1944, I was released from my unit. The partisans brought me to Korets, through Novograd-Wolinsk. As we entered the city, I recognized all kinds of voices. To my great surprise, from a distance I saw Genia Bakolska and Bebbe Gildenman. I could hardly scream with my voice: “Bebbe!” He ran to my wagon, and when he recognized me, he cried bitterly. He told me everything in a few words: “Korets is dead.” There was no one left to come to. The only thing left were the dry bones of all our dear and loved ones.

The partisans had a mission to bring me to the chief officer of Korets. He welcomed me warmly and said that it was a great honor for him to welcome a female partisan.

I calmed down and went to rest. In the evening, I went out to look at our destroyed city. I asked someone to escort me, because there were still bandits in Korets. My first mission was to go see the house where I was born. Sadly, I found a hill with rocks that was overgrown with grass. I cried bitterly when I saw this destruction. I looked around and around.

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The only houses that remained looked like tombstones on the graves of my dear ones.

The next day, I went to Rowno. That city was still being bombed by the Germans. At the beginning of 1945, I and some other Jews, left Rowno and went to the Foerenwald DP camp. I was in the group “Kadima” there for two years.

In the year 1947, I was on the “Exodus” ship (exodus from Europe). When the ship came to the shores of the land, the British government rerouted the ship to Germany on the English zone.

On May 15, 1948, I came to the country, together with my daughter Tzila.

Original footnotes:

1. After my rescue, I wrote to the Berlin police, and asked that they locate my rescuer, Anton Krieger. Unfortunately, I received a reply that Herr Krieger was dead. Return
2. We gave over this information to residents of Budki, who would often visit Korets. Return
3. I want to comment here, to clarify the story, that we were standing jointly with the Germans who used to warn us with notices and related documents. Return
4. The partisans used to put crazy thing [noises] on top of the cars so that during a shooting, no one heard the noise. Return
5. The komsomol Sonia, was later sent alone on a mission, but on the way, she was shot by the bandits. Return

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