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[Columns 135-136]

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At dark, we decided to cross the railway lines between Lakhva-Sinkievich and reach the area of Grichin, a Garden of Eden for those who survived. It was a night at the end of the [Hebrew] month, and the darkness was deep. We wandered about on paths that were unknown to us, and at times we returned to a place where we had been before. The sound of a boat sailing on the Smierc River was heard, and we turned toward it. There was a farmer in the boat, an acquaintance of Yisrael, who showed us the way to the road leading to Davyd-Gorodok. We crossed the river and the road, and arrived at the village of Lakhovka in the darkness of the night. We decided to continue until the Smierc River and hide in the marshes and among the shrubs. We stocked ourselves with watermelons and cucumbers, and set out to the river. We hid in the shade of the shrubs, a distance of six or seven kilometers from Lakhva, until morning. Hungry and thirsty, we sat among the trees all day. A spark of hope was lit in our hearts when the sun inclined westward, and our chances of surviving another day increased. At night, we walked to the village of Lakhovka. Along the way, we again equipped ourselves with food from the vegetables of the field. As we crossed the railway tracks in the middle of the night, we noticed civilian guards sleeping on the parapet on both sides of the crossing. There were sacks of food next to them. We deliberated in our minds: to take them or to leave them, but we left the sacks due to the danger. We arrived at Cherbisov, where all the residents were good acquaintances. We knocked on the windows of the houses, and did not leave without bread, milk, cucumbers, etc. – an abundance of food for two days. We set out on the journey again. We reached the marshes of Grichin, near Krasnovolov, at dawn. That was an area that was somewhat more secure from the attacks of the murderers. Along the way, we asked our friends the farmers about the place of the partisans. We did not receive a clear answer. As became clear to us later when we were in the camp, it was forbidden

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for them to speak or to guide us. We found out from the residents that the partisans traversed the paths almost every night, and at times even during the day. They also told us something distressing: the Jews of Lenin, who had escaped from the Hanchevich camp, were still wandering about, and no partisan camp would take them into their ranks since they did not have weapons.

With an oppressed spirit, we continued to wait for their marching. As darkness fell, Noach Zalmanovich, Yisrael Schwarin, Yehoshua Lichtstein, Yehoshua Shulman and I went out of our group to gather food for the next day. The main concern was: how to join the partisan camp? On the fourth day of our “journey” we decided to sit next to the path and wait until we would meet the partisans. The entire group sat about one hundred meters from the path, among the bushes, where they could see without being seen. We placed watchmen who would be replaced every half hour (Dolgopiati still had a wristwatch). The first to stand on watch was Yehoshua Lichtstein. The job of the watchman was to come running when he would see partisans, to inform us, and to ensure that they were not Nazi policemen. We had not yet had a chance to rest when we heard Yehoshua's whistle. By the time we reached him, he was already standing and talking with emotion to the commander of the brigade. A picture unfolded before our eyes that we will never forget: a group of partisans, about twenty people armed with guns and one machine gun, with two slaughtered and flayed sheep in their arms. A thought passed through our minds: our redeemer has been revealed to us. However, it immediately became clear to us that our redeemer was not coming anymore. The commanders informed us that they are unable to accept us to their ranks, because they are engaged in an action, and unarmed people will only disturb them. They also pointed to the carriers of the sheep who were unarmed – two Jews whom we did not recognize (Avraham Yazbin and Galinsin). We heard questions from the privates: “To whom did you give your gold? Your clothes? Now you come to us?” Our hope dissipated and our happiness turned to disappointment. Indeed, we received from

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the commanders two hand grenades with instructions how to use them. They wrote on a piece of paper the names of the villages on the route to the large partisan camp that would be able to accept us. If we wanted to wait for them until the action was over, we could meet them across the Lana [Lan'] River on the way to the border. When we parted from them, we decided to pass through the river and wait for them. We left the entire group in one of the barns, and the adults went out to gather provisions for the upcoming days. Before we returned to the place where our group was sleeping, one of us recommended that we leave the sleeping people in the barn and disappear ourselves, since we adults would be easily accepted to one of the partisan groups. There were those among us who objected to this for moral reasons or because they had relatives among those who were sleeping. We found almost all of them awake when we returned to the barn. After a “festive” meal, we went out, and we reached the Lana River in the morning. We waited for the group of partisans for an entire day, but they did not come. Then we decided to advance and reach the camp that was described by the partisans. We decided that we must split into four groups, with four individuals per group. Each group would include one adult male, one young woman, and one child (one child was lost in our wanderings). At first everyone agreed to the division, but it was never carried out. When one group got farther, the second group immediately caught up to them, and this was repeated. Toward evening, two Jews who had been in the partisan groups came to us with the news: the partisans left them behind as well, telling them that we should join them and wait until they came. The indication was clear; we understood that they had no desire to accept even two Jews to their group. The disappointment increased. We found out from the Jews that all the Lakhva survivors, about 120 men and women, had gathered at the river slope. These included Rabbi Lopatin, Shveika, and Lichtenberg, who were organizing a camp for themselves. There was a difference of opinion as to whether to join with all the survivors. I was in favor of continuing our journey to go across the Soviet border, and distance ourselves from the gentile acquaintances who were collaborating with the Nazis. Among those who decided to continue on the journey were two Jews from Lenin, Yehoshua Lichtstein, Lea Romanovski, Yeshayahu Mishlov and me. We crossed the river into the thickness of the forest. The sun set, and we decided to continue our journey the next day. We lay down on the piles of fodder. The night passed in peace. When we woke up, we ate bread and cucumbers. A debate arose again as to whether to continue eastward or to join the people of Lakhva. We decided to send a delegation to the group to verify the situation. The two delegates were Avraham Yazbin and Galinson. We decided that if they realize that the situation was not in good order, they would return by noon. If

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they remain, we would also follow after them. They did not return, and we decided to move. We had reached the rest of the survivors in the evening.

Approximately 120 people were found at a distance of two hundred meters from the banks of the Lana River, and about two kilometers from the Russian partisan camp, in which we could not set foot. We served as their forward outpost for as long as we stayed there as a Jewish group. We had one gun that was captured by the ghetto fighters and brought by Yaakov Abramowitz from Sinkievich. We could not leave the forest, and we barely received anything from the Russian camp. The day after our arrival, the guard killed two rams, and we received a half ram. Everyone received a piece of meat for two days. Many got sick with severe diarrhea. One day, the commissar from the Russian camp came to visit us, and lifted our spirits. He appeared sincere in our discussions, and we also received a gun for protection as a present. From our group, men started to go out, with the agreement of the command, to secure food. Dov Katz, Aharon Wlochianski, and Kalman Gozevitz were among them. When we were informed that an attack on Lenin was going to take place, two of the survivors from Lenin and Shveika went out for the attack. [The rest of us did not go] because we did not have guns. After the attack was successful, and Shveika excelled in it, we received several grenades and a hunting gun which we used to gather food. The attackers brought back with them several Jewish families from Lenin, whom the Germans had left alive as “vital Jews”. Two days later, the Russian command informed us that they decided to keep a group of twenty of us in place, and the rest must collect the “movable property” and move eastward. A panic broke out. Everyone wanted to remain, but it was clear to us that one hundred people must leave the place. Shveika was appointed as the commander, and his deputy was Lichtenberg. Those close to them were the supply procurers Dov Katz and Aharon Wlochianski. The rest of the members of the unit were: Kalman Gozevitz, Yaakov Abramowitz (because of the gun), Leibel Turkienitz, Dov Lopatin, Moshe Leib Cheifetz, Asher and Shimon Cheifetz, Chaim Rimer, Furer, Yaakov Moravchik, Avraham Feinberg, Lea Romanovski, Chaya Cheifetz, Zelig Leigman, and me.

We were responsible for setting up a guard along the river, obtaining weapons, and joining the Russian unit. In time, the supply procurers succeeded in obtaining one gun for the price of a pair of boots and a hand watch. We now already had in our possession three guns, several hand grenades, and a hunting gun.

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Our group was organized, and participated in almost every military activity. From time to time, our commander received a recommendation to join us to the Russian unit, but without results. They claimed: obtain guns for a third of your people, and then you will join us. Individual survivors of the ghetto, who had not yet found a place of refuge, passed near our camp. These included Avraham Kolpanitzki, Moshe Fishman (who met their deaths along their journey eastward). Nioma Moravchik, Moshe Zeev Romanovski and his two daughters, Sara Shlipak, Yehoshua Shulman, Mania Katz, Sima Kaplinski (Fishman). From among all these, Sima Kaplinski (Fishman), Nioma Moravchik, and Mania Katz succeeded in being accepted to our group. We were informed of five armed Jews around Sarna in our area. Members of the Russian group met them and recommended that they join us. They did not refuse, but desired to speak to our commander. After the meeting, they decided to join. These were Shlomo Zamdveiz, Sarna the lawyer, Mishe Vitzreich, Moshe Weksler, Hershel Moravchik of Lakhva, Kurlind, and Gendelman. At that point, our group divided into three sections. Shveika was the commander of the group. The section commanders were Lichtenberg, Zamdveiz, and Turkienich. Life in our group was conducted appropriately. The food was available and good. We can say: we sat on a fleshpot, and lice and worms were strolling on our bodies.

Shveika was our chief commander. He was without doubt a successful commander, but weak in strength and prone to influence. His advisors were Lichtenberg and Sima Kaplinski. This Lichtenberg was a hardhearted man, and brotherly feelings were far from his heart. He was the disciplinarian, aspiring to rank or to praise. Sima also did not excel in goodheartedness to the other women in our group, and her influence upon the unit commander Shveika was completely negative.

Lopatin, who had been the chairman of the committee [Judenrat] and had been full of energy and action, fell into a depression already from the time that he was wounded in the battle in the ghetto. Since his job in the ghetto was not in the spirit of the Russian partisan commanders, our commander also did not honor his advice. Difficult episodes also took place in our group. One autumn day in 1942, Hershel Moravnik was standing guard, and his head was lowered. When Shlomo Zamdveiz passed by the camp, he noticed that the guard was sitting with his head drooping, he quickly announced to Shveika that the guard was sleeping while on guard. Hershel was immediately removed from his guarding, and the command headquarters decided that he must leave the camp and go wherever he might. That was a death sentence for him. The next day, his friends found him

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killed at the riverbank, with his coat not on him. A Russian partisan, one of our neighbors, was wearing his coat.

One night, Asher the son of Shmuel Cheifetz, Avraham Feinberg, Lichtenberg at the head and I were sent to bring bread from “our bakery” which was a distance of eight kilometers away. A Russian resident, who was a friend of our family and owed a debt to us, lived nearby. I asked permission from Shveika to allow me to approach my friend and get a blanket and felt overshoes [anfilot], since I had been going barefoot for my entire time in the group. Shveika deviously advised me to approach our commander, Iza Lichtenberg, the head of the group. When we arrived at the bakery, Asher and I remained to receive the bread, and Lichtenberg and Avraham Feinberg continued another five kilometers to get honey for our “command”. As they distanced themselves from us, we decided to contravene the directive and obtain the felt overshoes. I approached my friend, who gave me a blanket, a local wool coat, and felt overshoes. I was dressed from head to foot, to my boundless joy. We returned to the bakery, and how surprised was I to see Lichtenberg and Feinberg in the yard there. I heard his words with my eyes closed, “You contravened the directive. You did not listen to your commander. We will see.” We arrived at the camp and lay down to sleep. The next day I received my punishment: seven days on guard with intervals of twelve hours. That was a very serious punishment, for it was impossible to stand for twelve hours during the day. On the third night, I sat down during my guard shift and fell asleep with my gun between my legs, and its strap tied to my hand. To my bad luck, the scouts returned from the Russian camp and found me sleeping. I was immediately removed from my guard position, and it was taken over by Yaakov Moravchik.

That night, our commander received an order to send several of our people to an action on the Sitnitsa-Sinkievich road: confiscating the sheep designated for the Germans. Chaim Rimer and Furer were among the candidates, and they requested that they be given felt overshoes to wear at night. They promised them but did not fulfil, and they lay down to sleep. The next day, the commander issued a verdict on the three of us: to leave the group by noon. When the time arrived, we found out that Furer had remained in the camp because of the “intervention” of his friends Shveika and Lichtenberg. The two of us were ordered to leave the camp. I comforted Chaim, that it might be to our benefit. We will get food from my gentile friends and find a camp across the Russian border. Chaim categorically refused to cross the Lana River. We sat that way for three or four days at a distance of a few meters from our guard post. A few members of the group – Kalman Gozevitz, Shimon and Asher Cheifeitz – endangered themselves and brought us morsels of bread to sustain ourselves.

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The entire time that we remained in hiding near the guard, we were careful that passersby from the Russian group would not see us, as we recalled what had happened to Hershel Moravnik. Once, as we were conversing with Shimon Cheifetz, who was standing on guard, we did not notice that one of the Russians was approaching us from across the river. We began to escape into the depths of the forest, but he noticed us, and began to interrogate Shimon. When we saw this, we came out of our hiding place and stood opposite him. This was Polkov, who related to us in a friendly manner. Apparently he was a Jew. He heard the entire story from us and was shaken. He promised to speak to his commander, the commissar, and he moved on from us toward the camp. On the second day after our meeting, the commissar approached us with a soldier to arrange the matter in the camp, and he addressed us. After hearing our story, he took us into the camp, and as opposed to Shveika, he promised to “make our path good”. We were again in our group, and I was “dressed properly” to greet the winter that was approaching.

Snow fell and the marshes froze with a layer of ice. The Russian command decided to move on from the place that was already known to the Germans. We then passed Detachment 90 in the Chobot forests, toward Soplova, a distance of ten kilometers. The place was close to the main command camp (Soyedineniye [Combined camp], and they again had a forward stance and a passage route. The command headquarters decided to remain there all winter, and we received a command to dig permanent excavations for ourselves. To that point, we had still not carried out any military actions, other than the attack on Lenin and Sinkievich. The group was occupied with the preparation of food and horses. When it became known that the Germans were planning a general offensive against the partisans, one partisan squad, the reconnaissance squad, was stationed at that point in Burskikova, a distance of fifteen kilometers, between the camp and the city of Lakhva. At the end of January, it seemed that the Germans went out to attack the partisans. We noticed two airplanes circling above our heads, going back and forth. Residents began to arrive from the villages on vehicles and on foot, announcing the approach of the Germans. We sat on the sleds and began to speed forward in the direction of the camp. The entire route was full of refugees. We arrived at the camp with the German airplanes circling above our heads, shooting, and dropping bombs. The camp was empty of people. Everyone was in the forest. We found out that the commissar and another member were injured from the bombing. We prepared to leave the camp and move to the main command camp. There, we would go out to repel the attacks with joint powers. That night, all the unarmed members were sent away, and

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only fighters remained in the camp. We sat in ambush. The route was strewn with mines. The Germans advanced, and when they reached the first mine, their wagon was ripped apart, and its contents were hurled into the air. The murderers retreated. A few days prior to the German attack, a terrifying event took place in the Shchurts camp. According to a command from General Komrov, a Jew from the reconnaissance group who had killed a spy who was a relative or friend of the general was taken out to be killed. The Jewish private soldier carried out the operation in accordance with a command of his commander who was a Russian, but it was the Jewish private soldier who was punished. The Jewish group rebelled, and through the personal involvement of the general, the feelings that had almost ended in an internal mutiny were calmed. After this incident, the general ordered that all the Jewish groups be disbanded, and that the members be distributed amongst the other groups. At that time, our group was disbanded as well.

The day after the attack, we were forced to leave the camp and to move to the gathering point by force. At a speed of fifty kilometers per hour, we crossed the open area in full view of the airplanes that were dropping bombs. Every squad commander received a list of his armed soldiers and an order to remove the unarmed people from his ranks. The atmosphere became oppressive, and once again we felt the sword over our necks. Many of the Jews were unarmed. Fate fell upon Chaya Cheifetz and Mania Katz to remain in the camp, waiting to be killed. Moshe Leib Cheifetz, although he had a gun, stayed among the unarmed people, not wanting to leave Chaya alone. We crossed the railway lines at night and stayed in the forests during the day. The area was dangerous. At times we passed near German concentrations or local guards, who did not dare engage us in battle.

The period of “purification” that the Germans began against us continued for one month. We evaded the Germans, who had come upon us with their force. We reached Telekhan. We participated in a cruel battle on the town of Shvinta–Vola [Święta Wola] where we suffered a setback. We returned to the command of General Komrov at our base, which had been destroyed by the Germans in the interim. During the frequent battles with the Germans, we succeeded in evading them without suffering any losses. During one of the battles, our group was given the task of blocking the main road from Yanov [Janów Poleski]. After the action, we succeeded in disappearing from the area. At that time, there were about fifty people in our group. After walking for two days, we arrived in Bastyn. On the first night after the failure of our attack, General Kleshtshov (the division commissar) joined our group, as he left the division command in order to escape from the area of danger. Toward morning, three

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reconnaissance soldiers from the main command reached us and asked to join our unit. Within a few days, all the people of our brigade reached us. There was a full conspiratorial discipline [i.e. clandestine discipline] in the new camp. Only scouts and reconnaissance people went out. We sustained ourselves with food that was prepared by the provision squad. We lived in quiet and calm for weeks. Every evening, we heard news from Radio Moscow, reporting on the battle of Stalingrad. Our brigade was divided into three units, and each unit into three squads (Otdielienia). The place was too small to accommodate us all. The command headquarters received an order to divide into three brigades. We organized into separate [brigades with distinct] names. The Kalinin brigade remained in place next to Vlota. The Stalin brigade moved to the Ogrokov forest near Cholot in the 90th Division. Zarodino stood next to Lenin. Our commander was appointed as the brigade commander.

The battle of Stalingrad continued. The Red Army fought valiantly, but progress was not yet evident. We Jews felt in our bones every retreat or defeat of the Russians on the front. The relationship to us changed according to the situation on the front. In the spring of 1943, the infamous command was proclaimed: “that every comrade who owns, or has in any place where he is, silver, gold, textiles, clothing, and shoes must give them over to the camp command headquarters.” Every day, one of us was summoned to the command, and subjected to a barrage of questions regarding his property. I was in action during the time the command was issued. I was with a group of five or six people responsible for the task of bombing a train. We carried out the command, and when we returned from the action, we wore the clothing that we took as booty from the German area. Our spirits were good, but when I was informed about the new command, I understood that its intention was solely for Jews. I recalled the command of the German murderers regarding gold and furs. We again felt the discrimination after we had gone through all the seven levels of adaptation. Our comrades took part in every attack, and our lives were at risk exactly as our Russian comrades in arms. Nevertheless, we remained as lower ranking fighters. Then I understood and saw that we have no place in the Diaspora, even in the Communist Garden of Eden. I was suddenly summoned to the tent of the commander, and was received by the brigade commissar Ivanov, who had come to us with a group of Cossacks from the German occupation area, and the political officer (politruk) of our brigade. I was asked to sit down, and the commissar of the brigade began to explain the new command, and asked me to hand over the “manufaktura” that we had hidden with Russian residents of the area. All admissions and oaths that we do not have even a single meter of textiles with the non-Jews were to no avail. He

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gave me an ultimatum that if by the next day at noon I did not tell him the location of the wares, I had to turn in my gun and leave the camp. I left the camp in the morning accompanied by two reconnaissance soldiers – Zamdveiz and another. My squad commander permitted me to take my private clothes and rations to sustain myself for two days. As I later found out, my friends eulogized me, for they were sure that I had been taken to be killed. I set my steps toward the commander of the brigade, who was not an anti-Semite like the commissar. To my good fortune, I met him in one of the tents as he was spending time with the brother-in-law of Grisha Lukianovich (previously my partner in the lumber trade). After they treated me to a cup of vodka, the interrogation began. Apparently, he was convinced of my words, and agreed to take me into the Stalin camp until the end of the “gold” operation. I remained in the camp for about twenty days. I slept in a tent that Chaya and Manya had cleared for me, and they provided me food without me leaving the tent. For aside from my great suffering, I felt embarrassment in the presence of the Russians, many of whom believed in our great wealth that was hidden with the non-Jews. Among the Russian partisans there was the female comrade Viera, who coincidentally had studied together with me in courses. She used all her efforts and influence on the brigade commander to free me from the libel. One day, as I was in my sojourn in “the Stalin exile”, our comrade Nioma the son of Shlomo Zalman Moravchik, may G-d avenge his blood, was taken out to be killed. His writ of indictment, which was read out in the camp mess hall, included several clauses: that he did not hand over all the gold and “manufaktura” in his possession, that he was the “guard” of the ghetto, and that he was an inferior soldier. After some hours we found out the truth: they beat Nioma in the command center until he burst out crying, and Sasha Sabichov, the commissar of the Zarodino, inherited his glasses. Two days after the death of Nioma, I was freed and returned to my squad in the Kalinin camp. The joy of my Jewish friends was greater than mine, since they thought I was dead. We went out on an attack and sabotage activities. We bombed bridges and railway lines heavily. At that time, a battalion of Germans paid a visit to our camp and burnt it. We had nobody dead or injured, since all the fighting soldiers were spread out in activities, and had left the camp prior to the arrival of the Germans. The next day, the murderers published in the newspapers that “hundreds of partisans had been killed in a sudden attack, and hundreds of guns and arms were confiscated.”

The advance of the Red Army on the front positively influenced the relations toward us Jews. We began to feel that they considered us like the rest of the partisans. The Russians began to take interest

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in the Jews who were spread out, and organize them into a new camp. Shlomo Zamdveiz was sent as brigade commander to the Jewish camp that was tens of kilometers away. Polkov, from the Stalin brigade, who was apparently thought to be a Jew, was sent to the camp as a commissar, but he was returned to the Stalin camp as a squad commander, and was reduced in rank to a private. Groups of Russian paratroopers began to arrive from the other side of the front. The command began to feel that the time was coming when they too would have to give an accounting for their deeds. Izak Lichtenberg was accepted into the paratrooper group as a translator and guide. When the front reached Pinsk, we began to receive commands directly from the front. Several members of our group went across the line, and brought back weapons and gun mounts. Soviet aircraft visited the brigade command headquarters. Russian artillery could already be heard from afar. Our hearts were full of joy and hope. When we were awakened to the sound of the explosion of artillery shells, we understood that the offensive was approaching, which would be for us the liberating attack. Our actions were carried out frequently, and we barely returned to our camp. We roved about the area. In honor of May 1, all of the brigades went out to military activities, and my group excelled with its success. On May 20, 1944, we received a command to bomb the train that ran from Lakhva to Sinkievich. We succeeded in carrying out the command. The Stalin camp also sent my group into battle. Our friend Moshe-Leib Cheifetz, may G-d avenge his blood, fell bravely in action near Sitnitsa. Rumors also spread that Shlomo Zamdveiz had also fallen in one of the actions – apparently, he fell into the hands of [hostile] partisans – after he had succeeded in causing much trouble for the ghetto survivors that were under his command.

The Russian armies continuously advanced. We heard machine-gun fire in their attack on Luninets and Bustyn. We received a command to cross the front line and seal off the German retreat in the forests. As we crossed the railway tracks, we stumbled upon a German ambush. Moshe Weksler and two or three Russian comrades were killed in battle against them. The Germans only held their position for some hours, and we received a command to cross Luninets.

The day we had dreamed about, that at times we did not even dare

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to dream about, arrived! We saw liberated Luninets with our own eyes. But it was not the Luninets that we recognized. In June 1944, we did not succeed in seeing even a single Jew in the city streets. The houses were bombed with aerial shells and artillery. Everything seemed grey in my eyes. Local residents whom I did not want to meet passed by. Their eyes were intense and frightened. I walked around with lowered eyes together with my Jewish friends who had survived. We were embarrassed to look at the houses. A single thought went through our minds: Why were the houses not destroyed along with the dear Jews, why did they remain to pour salt onto our wounds, as if they had already healed? We found out that we were to transfer as a complete unit into the ranks of the Red Army. That day, only the fighting groups were in Luninets. We waited for the administrative convoy to arrive. It came only the next day. I went along the street and saw Lea Gozevitz and Lea Romanovski talking to a Russian captain. I approached and clasped their hands [in greeting]. The captain was a Russian Jew. We parted from him and began to discuss Luninets and Lakhva. After an hour, I heard that they were looking for me in the command headquarters. I went there and returned equipped with a partisan certification, and I was to join those going into the ranks of the army. I parted from the young women, and stood in line with those going out. The following were among the ghetto survivors who were going out [to the army]: Ziame Moravchik, Kalman Gozevitz, Chaim Rimer, Avraham Feinberg, Aharon Moravnik, Leibel Turkenitz, and me.

After we went out, the following remained in place: Shveika, Dov Katz, Arka Wlochianski, Yaakov Moravchik, and all the young women.

The parents of the partisans began to stream into the city. They were happy to return to their families, to their sons and daughters. A brother fell on the shoulder of his brother [in embrace]. We joined hands with friends from other brigades, “in lieu of” a meeting with parents, brothers, and sisters. The conclusion was: it had not been worthwhile to remain alive.

As soon as we were liberated, a blanket of deep agony enveloped us. The day of September 3, 21 Elul, came before our eyes in all its horror. It seemed to us that it would have been better to remain in the forests until the end of our lives than to be liberated into this situation.

Translator's footnote

1. From Deuteronomy 32:35 Return

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Thirsty for revenge, barefoot and persecuted up to the neck, we were chased out of the place where the survivors of Lakhva gathered in the Chobot forest. The “elites”, who were men who looked out only for themselves and pursuers of honor and gain, such as Shvika and Lichtenberg, and had not yet learned about sharing a common fate, prevented the organization of a Jewish fighting unit that would also protect the elderly, women and children. They succeeded in organizing themselves, chose about twenty-five like-minded people, and joined a Russian brigade as a unit.

When we were informed that we had to leave the place, we rose up as a group of ten lads between the ages of fourteen and eighteen, set out eastward, and crossed the Russian border. This group consisted of Yitzchak Fishman, Ben Tzion Lichtenstein, Yeshayahu Mishalov, Moshe Kaplan, Shlomo the son of Yitzchak Cheifetz, Shimon Galinson, Aharon Shwarin, Chaim Shklar, and me, as well as Dov Ashman who was the oldest of us.

We knew that we had a distance of three hundred kilometers before us until the gathering place of the Soviet partisans. Nests of murderers, Germans and guards swarmed along the route. Through great danger, we arrived in peace at the “great land” of decisive partisan rule, which extended from Bobruisk in the north until Mozyr-Petrikov in the south.

Among the partisans in Soviet Polesye, whose numbers reached 70,000, there were hundreds of Soviet Jews, captains, unit and brigade commanders, and privates. Some admitted to their Jewishness, and others hid the rock that forged them. Tens of Jewish families, caring for children, lived in villages and the forests of the Karpilovka-Oktyaber, Glusk, Slutsk, Storbin [Starobin], Lyuban, Kopatkevich and Petrikov districts.

There were absorption difficulties in the fighting units: a lack of weapons and general claims that the Jews were cowards and did not want to fight. On the other hand, we were able to wander through the villages without fear or trepidation. We were received in a pleasant fashion in every house. The residents of the villages gave us food, a place to sleep, felt boots [anfilaot] for our bare feet, and clothes to wear.

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Within a brief time, about eighty survivors of Lakhva and Lenin spread out among the partisans, two in each unit.

At the end of October 1942, we met tens of “Western Jews” – Lakhva and Lenin natives, in the attack on the Brisk-Homel railway line over the Ptsich River. The bridge flew up into the air, the railway tracks were damaged, and the movement of the train was stopped for eighteen days. The partisans of Polesye received a recognition of “thanks” from Comrade Stalin.

The lads from Lakhva obtained weapons in the battles and participated in the attacks on the nests of German murderers in the villages of Kotk and Lambichi (in Polesye). They went out to sabotage operations and bombed enemy trains.

In January 1943, high level commanders arrived from Moscow and organized the partisans into units and brigades under the district command of Polesye.

Four months after we left the Lakhva ghetto, we, the sons of Lakhva, stood with guns in our hands among the thousands of partisans in organized structures and in a festive atmosphere. We swore an oath of allegiance to the Soviet army, and repeated word for word: “I, the dedicated son of the Russian nation, (and in our hearts: the son of the most oppressed nation, whose blood had been spilled like water throughout the entire expanse of Europe), swear to avenge the blood of our wives, children, and mothers, the destruction of cities and villages that were burned, and that the weapon will not leave my hand, until our soil, the soil of holy Russia, will be cleansed of the German Nazis. Death to the German conquerors!”

With holiness and trembling, we signed the text of the oath and clasped the hands of the commanders, standing with a straight posture, with equal rights, dressed appropriately, and having gained battle experience.

As soon as the snow melted, hundreds of groups went out to operations of sabotage and revenge against the enemy. The motto was: “To not give rest

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to the conquerors, either during the day or the night, so that the Nazis will feel that the Russian soil is burning beneath them.”

The Soviet regime grew from day to day in the German flank. The invader was expelled from the villages and towns. We were in the lower outskirts of the city of Kopatkevich in Polesye on the Ptsich River. More than half of its population had been Jewish before the Nazi invasion. Some of them succeeded in going out to the Red Army during its retreat. The rest were murdered by the Nazis.

We ascended to the city with the partisans who concentrated twelve units. In the battle of attack, the invaders were repelled, leaving behind tens of victims and injured, as well as a great deal of booty.

A brigade of the Czechoslovak army with its commander, in the rank of general, passed by us. Many Vlasov soldiers and Caucasian auxiliaries who had served with the Germans deserted them and joined us.

Thousands of partisans operated at derailing enemy trains from the track, and bombing bridges and trains. They had anti-tank weapons and firearms. The enemy losses in a small area of the railway line were great, both in terms of equipment and people. Approximately forty trains containing military equipment, tanks, armored vehicles, cannons, shells, bombs, fuel, army brigades, and loads of pillaged property being sent to Germany, were blown up in the air, and Nazi blood was spilled like water. Entire brigades of Germans were tied down guarding the trains and logistical supply units.

In the thick of the fighting operation, one could always meet tens of Lakhva natives: Shimon Cheifetz, of the Bumazhkov unit, brigade 225, was in the famous group of saboteurs of Sinchikovski, and bombed seven enemy trains; Moshe Kaplan and Shlomo Cheifetz of the Bolotnikov unit, who participated in battles in the villages of Garbov and Zalesia, and killed tens of Nazis; and Yitzchak Fishman, Yeshayahu Mishalov, and Leibel Weinfeld from units of the Pavlovsky brigade. They had their guns on their shoulders, and carried packs of explosives on their route to the railway lines. Ben Zion Lichtenstein went out first in an attack on a train, in which about eight hundred people participated: Aharon Schwarin from the Michlovski unit, brigade 123, who returned at dawn from a successful operation; Chaim Shklar, Zeev Palvich from the Vaska unit, who were the first in battle. Shimon Galinson, who was sent to the west, around Baranovich, to organize partisan units; Eizik Olamotski, Reuven Cheifetz from the Chravka unit went out armed with automatic weapons and explosive material in the battle of the railway tracks; the poet Yitzchak Slutki, Yaakov Shusterman, Yerachmiel Cheifetz, Shlomo Dolgopiati, Ben Zion

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Dolgopiati, Zeev Olamotski, the Dov brothers, Meir and Shimon Kravchik, Dov Gitelman, Fishel Gardbin, and others were fighters in units in the area of Slutsk-Starobin-Lyuban.

After every operation and battle, the Lakhva natives from all the units would gather in one place for a brief discussion, talking about the operation, and reminiscing about days gone by.

Lakhva was a “known thing”. Thousands of partisans who had never heard of such a city turned to every Jew that they met on the way with the call, “We are from Lakhva!”

The crowning achievement of our activities was at the time when Ben Zion Lichtstein, Aharon Schwarin, Chaim Shklar, Shimon Cheifetz and I influenced the commanders of the partisan units to give us explosives, so that we could go to a sabotage operation in the vicinity of Lakhva. The partisans had not yet operated there in a significant fashion. We Jews wanted to settle scores with the residents of Lakhva who remained in the west.

My brother Ben Zion derailed two trains in the vicinity of the villages of Bostyn-Ditlovich. Shimon Cheifetz derailed a train in Lakhva next to Ratner's kerosene warehouse. Chaim Shklar and a group of saboteurs derailed a train between Sinkevich and Sitnitsa. Aharon Schwarin carried out sabotage operations near Melkovich and Hanchivich.

Once, I came with a brigade of fifty people to the sole gathering area in the vicinity of Sitnitsa of those who had left Lakhva. In the camp, I met the entire group. Our appearance had a positive effect on them. They were proud of us, that the Russians treated us literally like brothers. During two weeks of operations with anti-tank and firearm weapons, mining the railway tracks with explosive material, and bombing the trains and the tracks, we destroyed the locomotives and two trains were derailed. We took Shimon Cheifetz and Zeev Palvich with us when we returned eastward. Palvich went to Chaim Shklar's unit, and Shimon Cheifetz remained in our unit. They chose a life of freedom and honor rather than a life of oppression, degradation, and fear in the west.

In accordance with directives from Moscow, it was forbidden to exact judgment on Nazi collaborators. Nevertheless, in all cases where we found pillaged Jewish property that was possible to identify – Passover matzo covers, challah covers, Chanukah menorahs, tables covered with tallises, torah parchment and holy objects – that had been kept by Jewish residents despite twenty-five years of Soviet rule, and had been stolen from them during the German occupation – we would activate the “punishment unit”

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and wreak havoc in the house and its residents. The property was confiscated and given over to the Jewish families who lived in the forests.

The Russians knew that our war was also their war, and gave us, at every opportunity, the chance to give vent to our anger. They also joined in to help us.

The village of Smitenich, Petrikov district, was a village of murderers, all the residents of which served in the Nazi police. The policemen and their families fled when we attacked the village. Nevertheless, I found pictures of Hitler and caricatures of Jews. I tore up the pictures. My friend Nikolai Berbotko came to my assistance. With the assistance of the entire squad, we set most of the houses of the village on fire, and took their flocks.

In the village of Porchia, Shimon Cheifetz commanded a gentile resident of the area to transport him several kilometers for an operation. The gentile

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responded brazenly and said that he does not listen to the orders of a “zhyd”. Shimon let the butt of his rifle fall on his head, until the butt broke. The commander of the unit already knew about this, and when Shimon tried to explain to him that the gun had broken when it fell under a wagon wheel, he responded, “I know how it happened. What you did was completely right.”

The commander of our unit (the Soborov unit, brigade 225), Pavel Yanovich, after a “cup” would hug me, Shimon, and Pinski (a Soviet Jewish lad). He was always proud of “his” Jews. Among the commanders, the unit commander Aron Reznichnika from the city of Vinicha was apparently a Jew, and all the private soldiers related to us with honor and reverence.

The actions of the Lakhva people in the east were for the honor and glory of all the Jews among the partisans, as a sign of bravery and vengeance.

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To my good fortune, I remained in a Jewish group that had been attached to a partisan detachment camped in Chobot, in the Lakhva area. Its commanders were Shviko and Lichtenberg.

When the first group set off to the east, I stood guard near the river with my gun that I had brought from the ghetto. I had decided to take it and go to the group. They came to swap me, and took the gun from me.

Two months later, the partisans returned from the east, Yehoshua Lichtstein among them. They camped in our camp and went out on sabotage operations. For us, the Jews of Lakhva, it was a pleasant experience to see our lads coming from the east with weapons and as guides. At the end of their operation, Yehoshua recommended that I go with them to the east. Zeev Palvich and I agreed. My brother Asher decided to remain in the west.

My situation was completely different in the east. Instead of the life of oppression and denigration in the western units, which regarded Jews as cowards and not fighters, and instead of suffering under Shviko and Lichtenberg, I was received with open arms by the brigade commander. The Lakhva natives Dov Ashman, Shimon Galinson, Yehoshua Lichtstein, and two other Soviet Jews were there. They had earned a reputation and good relations through their conduct.

On the first day, I received a semi–automatic rifle without knowing how to use it. I was at a loss as to what to do. It was the first time in my life that I had held such a weapon. I was afraid to admit this to my commander, lest they laugh at me and take away the rifle for which I had risked my life. My cheder friend Sasha Hatzovich came to my aid and taught me how to handle it.

The primary tasks of the Soborov unit of Brigade 225 were sabotage and planting mines. I joined the sabotage detachment under the command of Sinchikovski (who later received the distinction of “Hero of the Soviet Union”).

In my first operation, I had no concept of sabotage work. With joy, I took the backpack with a load

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of ten kilograms of explosive material, and we set out to the train with weapons in our hands. After a week, we arrived at the area of the city of Zitkowitz, located on the Brisk-Homel railway line.

As was customary, we walked with two comrades for protection on the right and two on the left. Wanting to learn the art of sabotage, I went with Sinchikovski to plant the mine. We placed the explosive charge under the rails, connected the detonator, tied a cord about three hundred meters long to the safety–catch ring, and the mine was ready for action. After a half an hour, the train approached on its journey eastward. When it reached the place of the mine, we pulled the wire, the safety catch released, and the mine exploded. We saw tens of wagons of German soldiers and weapons being derailed.

When I went to the next operation, with one train explosion already to my credit, I convinced the group commander Sinchikovski that we should go to the area of Lakhva. We reached the western part of the Chobot forest, where the Lakhva brigade was camped. I was proud to appear before my former friends with weapons and as an experienced saboteur. We received a guide and went to the railway tracks in the area of Sinkevich. We stumbled upon a mine along the way. My comrade Svetlanov (who came to us from the Vlasov men, who had served the Germans) was badly injured in his leg. I, who was walking behind him, was thrown into the air and was lightly injured. We returned to the camp and gave the injured person over to the care of the Jewish physician Dr. Lichtenstein and the nurse Lea Romanowski. (He died a few days later.) We went out to the railway line again the next evening. That time we planted a mine on a Shumfil (a seventy-centimeter rifle cleaning cord). We tied the cord to the end of the detonator's safety catch, and its other end was tied to the Shumfil, which was fixed in the ground next to the mine. When the train came, it pushed the Shumfil, and the detonator came out and hit the mine. The train had suddenly come by with military equipment,

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soldiers, machinery, and wagons laden with shells. The mine exploded and the wagons with their equipment were blown into the air.

Because of the distance from our base, when we went out, we equipped ourselves with four loads of explosive material. We rested for a few days, and went to the area of the Malkovich station on the Luninets-Baranovich railway line. The German guard increased from day to day. There were fortifications and garrison forces every several kilometers. During the evening hours, the Germans guarded at a distance of fifty meters from each other. We had to do our work with greater caution.

On the first evening, we encountered an ambush that opened heavy fire on us. We retreated, and went out again to the northern side the next day. We reached the tracks toward morning. We dug under the tracks, placed the sand on an army coat, and moved it to the forest. We placed the load in the pit, and we placed the detonator next to the tracks. We heaped up earth around the area so no traces would be seen, and we slipped away. In place of the safety catch, we used a piece of pencil graphite or a matchstick. (An operation of this sort is dangerous, and in many cases, the saboteurs themselves were killed while placing the mine.) According to information from the residents of the area and the scouts, an enemy train with soldiers, horses, cannons, and machinery encountered our mine. The mine exploded and the train was derailed, causing heavy losses.

We remained in the west for several more weeks, and carried out bombings of railway lines and bridges. We received confirmation from the partisan commanders about the results of the operations we carried out, and we returned to our base in the east.

Once, I went out with the Yatzinik group to the railway tracks between the Zitkovitz and Stroshka stations. We had mines rigged to batteries with a timer. We set the timer while we were still along the way, so we would not have to wait for a long time. From fear, the German trains stopped coming at night. In the morning, the Germans would traverse the entire length of the track, equipped with mine detectors, searching for mines that we had planted. One German soldier would receive two months of vacation for

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any mine that he would find and disarm, and the Russians who served the Germans would receive two liters of liquor. Therefore, we placed mines with two detonators, and while the mine was being disarmed, the Germans and their assistants would receive a permanent “vacation”.

We placed the mines at a certain distance from each other. When they found a single mine, they would be satisfied and think that there was no other. Thus, we succeeded in ensuring that the train would encounter a mine that would explode, and the fuse would ignite the railway cars laden with military equipment, bombs, shells, and fuel.

I participated in several operations of mining trains and bridges. Once, a train full of salt being sent to Germany was derailed.

I became ill with typhus, and recovered with the help of the dedicated medic Lebotzinia. The Russian front approached, and several of our units went out to attack and bomb armed trains that shelled with cannons the Red Army on the front. We were given the task of bombing a bridge on the railway line, so that the train could not retreat. We advanced late at night, and did not know that there were German fortifications set up with armored firing cars and mortars, and that the Germans diverted the river water and flooded the entire area leading to the tracks. When we entered the water up to our necks, at a distance of a hundred meters from the tracks, murderous gunfire was opened against us from the fortifications, as well as cannon fire from the armed railway cars, and we could not lift our heads. We lay flat in the water. Yehoshua Lichtstein was next to me, and we heard how the commissar asked the commander, “Pavel, what should we do?” The commander issued an order to open fire and to occupy the Germans, and then retreat into the forest under cover of the fire. The entire area was under a volley of bullets from the Germans. The fire was accurate and intense, but we nevertheless succeeded in retreating without losses.

While the Germans were busy with us, other units succeeded in approaching the armed train and causing it heavy damage, which greatly sped up the advance of the Red Army.

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I set out on roads that were not roads. I wandered from village to village, from battalion to battalion. In all places, I heard the usual response of the battalion commanders, “You Jews do not want to fight, and will not fight! Where are your weapons! We cannot accept you. Go kill a German and take his weapons, and then we will accept you!”

As I trekked through the Polesye district, I reached the battalion of the commander Shuva. When I heard the usual response from the commander, I prepared to set out on the journey once again, without knowing where.

The next morning, I went out on my usual trek, and met Leibel Weinfeld, may G-d avenge his blood, who was wounded in his left hand. I heard the following incident from him.

They were five Leibel, his brother Chaim, Avigdor Lichtstein, Moshe Weiner, and Shlomo Rivin. Near the villages of Kozyatichi, they encountered a German ambush that opened fire on them. Leibel was wounded and managed to escape, and the rest were killed. Later, Yehoshua Lichtstein told me that our lads had captured the farmer who informed the Germans of the presence of the five. This was during the winter of 1943. They entered the village, and the farmers told of one of them who had done this. After going to the grave, we went to the farmer's house, captured him, beat him cruelly, and tossed him into the river between the ice floes.

Therefore, he was a brother in misfortune, and we set out on the journey together. In the village of Midochov, one of the partisan commanders advised us to go to the Pavlovski unit in the area of Oktyober, where there were also Jewish commanders who would assist us in being accepted to one of the battalions in the area. He gave us directions for the journey, and we slowly began to advance toward the destination. Leibel could not go first, for his hand was bothering him. We would rest in every village and request a bandage. His hand was swollen, and the pain increased day by day.

We encountered a Jewish partisan. After we told him about

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what had happened to us, he advised us to approach the battalion Chief of Staff, Bariash, and tell him that he had sent us.

The commander received us politely. He gave us food and drink, and let us sleep over. The next day he sent us to the battalion commander Artyushkin, to the place where he camped. When we gave Artyushkin the letter, his response was, “He cannot tell me who to accept into the battalion. He is not a close associate of mine.” As we were waiting for a response, we spoke to the commander of the squads and the commissar, who told us, “Sit quietly for as long as they allow you.”

One night, the battalion launched an operation. When the battalion began to advance, we joined them. The battalion supervisor issued a command to expel us. Having no choice, we walked, and we met the supply squad, and joined them until the wrath passed. As well, we earned our bread through work.

Four days later, the battalion returned to its base, and we again approached the commander Bariash. He was very angry, and sent us to another battalion in the area. We met the battalion commander, who sympathized with our plight. He eventually said that he was very sorry that he could not accept us – his battalion was small and there were few armed soldiers. However, far from our base, there was the battalion of Commander Vasili Gobin (Vaska), who had weapons but was lacking in personnel.

We set out on our journey again, and entered the village of Zavaliano, the place of the command headquarters.

One partisan invited us to his house. When we told him that we wished to speak with the commander, he told us, “I advise you not to go now. The commander is drunk and in his present mood, he might give someone a bullet.” The homeowner gave us a place to sleep, and also gave us food and let us wash up. The battalion commander announced that he would speak to us the next day, because he was going to the staff headquarters.

When he returned, the interrogation began, from where, how did we come, etc. I girded myself with bravery and said,

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“Listen, commander, I will not move from here. Accept me to the battalion. I am alone and isolated, and I have one objective before me – to avenge the blood of my parents and family. If you do not accept me, liquidate me on the spot.”

I saw that my words had an effect on him, and I continued to speak a bit more. He decided to accept me and encouraged me:

“That's all right. We will go into battle, kill Germans, give you weapons, get you outfitted, and you will not have to go around in torn clothes.”

He sent Leibel to the brigade hospital, and I found out that he was in the Artyushkin battalion.

After a week, we went out to an operation. I traveled with the commander, and he said to me along the way:

“Remember what I told you, and demonstrate your power.”

I no longer had weapons. My job was to haul the wagons with the loot and food. We returned to the base after the operation. I went to the laden wagons and whipped the horses. Along the way, we encountered an ambush of local guards and Germans. When they opened heavy fire on us, the group escaped into the forest,

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and I remained alone, without weapons.

I did not know what to do: I hesitated to escape into the forest, because this was my first assignment in the battalion and I would be judged as a coward by my actions. I was also afraid of remaining under the volley of bullets. This was my first trial by fire. I wanted to survive and take revenge, and I had not yet taken revenge. I jumped into the forest and continued on my way. The horses panicked, and I quickly mounted the wagon. I got the horses and wagons onto the road, and under murderous German fire, I removed all seven laden wagons. I left the danger area and brought them to the base.

As I returned, I saw that bullets had passed through my clothes, and miraculously did not hit me. During a partisan gathering in the evening, I was singled out for praise by the captain. He clasped my hand and said:

“In this operation, you demonstrated that you are worthy of being a partisan. We accept you into our family. You will continue in the operations, and we are certain you will succeed.”

And he fulfilled his promise. For my first battle, I received weapons. I passed the test!

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With the disbanding of the fighting Jewish battalion of the Lakhva survivors and their dispersion among Russian partisan units, my luck was to be in the same unit as Avraham Feinberg. The squad commander was Yitzchak Lichtenberg. We went out to operations: bombing railway lines, mining trains, and shooting anti-tank guns at locomotives. In our group there was also a Jewish lad from Slonim, Ilbitski, who had brought a machine gun with him. He used it in all the operations, and hit many Nazis. Within a short time, we were conducting successful operations in the Mokrova-Mikshvits area. Tens of Russians from the Vlasov men, who had served the Germans, defected to us and were accepted into our unit. As long as Yitzchak Lichtenberg was with us, they restrained themselves and did not show their anti-Semitic faces. However, when Lichtenberg transferred to Moscow with the paratrooper group to organize partisan units in Poland, they began to poison the atmosphere with open anti-Semitism. All the difficult operations were assigned to the Jewish lads, and we fulfilled our tasks well, even though we did not even merit any words of support or recognition.

When I heard that a group from our unit was preparing to go out to the other side of the front line to obtain medical supplies and ammunition from the Russian army, I was present in the command headquarters, and I volunteered to go out with that group. We knew that an operation on the other side of the front was particularly dangerous, and that almost all of the partisan groups that attempted to cross the front were annihilated; however, I wanted to show my comrades in the group, all of whom were afraid that they would be assigned to that role, that the Jews were not cowards like them. The group was put together, and of course, the former servants of the Nazis were chosen to be among those who went out, so as to atone for their former iniquity. Dzindz, a Ukrainian brute, was appointed as commander of this group. He was familiar with the language of German propagandists.

At the beginning of February 1944, we stocked ourselves with food for two days, guns, bullets, and two hand grenades, and set out on the journey. We wore light clothing so that we could advance quickly. We were tasked with crossing

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the railway line and the rivers, and to go to the city of Turov across the Pripyat, where we would meet the Red Army.

The area was swarming with Germans who fortified and stationed defence lines at a distance of half a kilometer from post to post. On Saturday night, we found a guide, and with him, we crossed the railway line and reached the village of Sitnitsa. We hid among the shrubs all day. We traveled at night, and rested among the trees in the forest during the day. Thus, we reached the confluence of the Horyn and Pripyat Rivers. The residents of the area who were hiding in the forests waiting for the Red Army gave us a guide and food.

We crossed the Pripyat River in a boat and walked through the marshes. One day, we were detected by a low-flying German airplane. It began to shoot us with machine guns. We returned fire with our guns, so as not to let it fly low, and we slipped away from the area. We were afraid that German foot soldiers would also come in the wake of the airplane. We met two civilians who took us to the Merlin farm in the forests. We told them who we were and where we were going. The Russian residents told us that the Red Army was standing not far away, and groups of scouts would come to visit them from time to time. They advised us not to go to the Russian army, for the soldiers in the posts shoot at anyone who approaches from the western side. It would be best if we wait until the army scouts come, and they would take us with them. The scouts did not come, and we began to go out toward the Red Army. As we approached the army posts, they opened fire on us with mortars and machine guns. We escaped unscathed through a miracle, and succeeded in retreating and returning to the place. We remained for several days with the people of the place, and then a group of scouts from the army arrived and took us with them. Our joy was boundless. We reached a village near Turov and were received nicely. They gave us army uniforms. We were able to wash up, and we received food and a place to rest. All of them were astounded that we succeeded in crossing the dangerous route,

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since all of the partisan battalions that wanted to cross the front had been annihilated.

After two weeks of rest, we equipped ourselves with knapsacks, medical supplies, and guns, and we took food for the journey. We loaded everything on the wagon that had brought us to the advance posts. There, we crossed the front line, and found ourselves once again in the area of German occupation.

The route through the marshes was very difficult. The snow had started to melt, puddles of water and mud formed, and we were laden with the heavy weight that we carried. Then, we succeeded in reaching the Pripyat River crossing. We had some relief when we reached the huts of the residents and rested. The residents of the area told us about steamboats sailing on the Pripyat. Indeed, we saw a steamboat on the banks of the river that had come from the direction of Davyd-Gorodok, hauling a load on a barge. We opened fire with our automatic rifles. The boats were disabled and became unusable. We continued our journey along the river for several days, but no other boat was seen. We decided to begin an operation against the Germans near the village of Sitnitsa, for they would not have thought that partisans would come from the south. We lay down on the tracks. Four Germans appeared before us, pacing and whistling. We allowed them to approach us, and we immediately opened fire and liquidated all four of them. The surprise was so

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great that we crossed the tracks without hearing even one shot at our sides.

When we returned, we immediately went out with the entire Stalin unit for an operation on the Mikshevits-Sinkevits road. In the morning, we encountered an ambush, and we saw a row of twelve vehicles with equipment approaching from the Mikshevits side. When the vehicles approached us, we opened devastating fire on them. We hit them and caused the Germans to panic. Then we retreated to our base.

The next day, we again went out to the tracks between Lakhva and Sinkevits at night, armed with “egg” grenades [Eihandgranaten] that arrived from Russia, and we bombed a bridge and a section of the railway tracks.

Day by day, we continued to interfere with the Germans, until the news arrived that the Red Army had begun an attack along the entire front. We received a command that our unit and the battalion under the commander Mishkin should capture the city of Luninets so as to cause disarray for the Germans. We set out on the journey and attacked Luninets from the western side, as Russian airplanes bombed the city. It was completely engulfed in flames. With our assistance, the Red Army advanced at great speed, and at the beginning of June 1944, Luninets was liberated, and our unit camped in that city.

On June 15, 1944, I was sent again to the front. I fought until I was wounded. We received the news of the victory over the Nazis as I was lying in the hospital.

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