A few weeks before the Jews were expelled from Sokoly, a group of youths decided to organize self-defense for the purpose of not allowing the Germans to bring us like sheep to the slaughter.

A number of youths conferred in secret and selected five members who would constitute the operating committee of the protective underground. These members were: Shlomo Plut, Yankel Seines, Mordechai Moshe Blustein, Shmuelke Maik, and Moshe Maik.

At the first meeting, they worked on a plan to organize all the youths and train them for actions against the Germans. We heard from other places that the day before the expulsion (Ausweisung as the Germans called it), the murderers would inform the Judenrat, by suggestion, of their evil intentions. If so, then every movement should be followed and an ear be turned toward what was happening in the vicinity to obtain any information regarding the expulsion of the Jews. Members were assigned to stand at various locations and on the roads on the fateful day, and if they detected the movement of elimination squads, they would immediately inform the rest of the group. A number of actions were determined:

The moment it was known that there was a movement of Germans towards Sokoly, each fighter would set his house on fire with all the possessions inside, and thus Jewish property would not fall into the hands of the oppressors. Some of the organized youths will throw grenades at the approaching members of the Gestapo, and the others will open fire on them with pistols. It was easy to guess that in this battle many of the fighters would be killed and the chances of remaining alive were slim, but it was better to fall in battle, knowing that by your death you also eliminated a German.

The meeting took place under the slogan, “My soul will die with the Philistines.” This was a plan made by the youths, who were determined to die a hero's death. The spirit of battle was awakened in them. In these moments of exhiliration, they also thought of a shelter for the few who might succeed in escaping from the heavy gunfire. Meeting places in the surrounding forests were determined so that, at a later stage, they would be able to make contact with the partisans.

The plan was already drawn in general terms, and now they began to prepare to carry it out. The most difficult and urgent problem was obtaining needed weapons - at least fifty pistols and hand grenades.

The young Moshe Maik had a Polish friend who was one of the heads of the A.K. (Armia Kariova) underground. He lived not far from Sokoly, and there was a hidden cellar in his house where the organization's stock of weapons was stored. When the committee's meeting ended, it was decided to send Moshe Maik to that very Pole to negotiate obtaining weapons from him. The members waited impatiently and worriedly for their messenger's return. Moshe returned with news: “The Pole promised to supply us with seven pistols and 12 grenades at the price of 200 marks per pistol and 100 marks per grenade.”

The committee met a second time and discussed ways of obtaining money to purchase the weapons. Shlomo Plut and Mordechai Blustein were given the task. Yankel Seines volunteered to search in the nearby forests for an appropriate place for bunkers. It also was decided to contact the youth from Wysokie-Mazowiekie. There were rumors that the Jews from Wysokie had organized and succeeded in maintaining contact with the Soviet partisans in the Mazury forests.

Shlomo Plut and Moshe Maik took the task of contacting the youth of Wysokie. For this purpose, Moshe applied to the Amstkommissar for permission to purchase materials needed to fill batteries built of nickel and iron plates, which could be gotten only in Wysokie-Mazowiekie. Since the local pharmacy no longer had these materials, permission was granted and Moshe Maik and Shlomo Plut immediately set out on foot toward their destination. In meetings with people there, it became clear that the Jews in Wysokie Mazowiekie had not actually organized yet to defend themselves. However, they promised to contact the youths of Sokoly in any case, and to take steps toward effective action in opposing the enemy and making contacts in the forests.

Very unfortunately, the youths of Sokoly began to organize themselves too late. Also, financial donations did not stream in as they had hoped. The workers in Lapy, who were the initiators of the defense organization, decided to postpone their payments to the organization until they had received their wages.

In spite of the tension, many were of the opinion that they still had a few more months before the expulsion because the eyes of the Jews of Sokoly were on Bialystok, which was “in line” before Sokoly, and there still were no obvious signs [of expulsion] in Bialystok. Work in the factories continued at full speed. There were even opinions that the higher echelons of the German leadership had promised the Bialystok Judenrat that the ghetto would exist for a long time under conditions that were not so bad. As long as no danger to the metropolia existed, the Jews of the surrounding area remained relatively calm. As a result, the self-defense organization was run lackadaisically, and the total fund amounted to a mere 150 marks.

And suddenly on Shabbat October 31, 1942, 200 farmers and their horse-drawn vehicles from Wysokie-Mazowiekie were drafted to transport the Jews of Sokoly to an unknown destination on Monday, November 2, at 6:00 in the morning. In spite of what the farmers told them, there were some optimistic Jews to be found who did not believe them, but rather thought that the farmers had been drafted to transport trees that had been cut down in the forests.

Meanwhile, another rumor was spread that 150 farmers and their vehicles from Lapy had also been drafted for the same November 2nd, at 6:00 a.m. One of the Jews from Bransk said that 300 local farmers had also been drafted for the same date.

A messenger was sent to Bialystok on behalf of the Sokoly Judenrat, to verify what the situation was there. The representatives of the Bialystok Judenrat were of the opinion that “they wouldn't touch them” in the near future. On the contrary, it became clear that the expulsion would begin in the neighboring towns, necessitating, from now on, extra precautions. In any case, all these terrifying rumors caused panic among the Jews of Sokoly, who were only comforted by hope that the farmers of Sokoly had not yet been drafted.

Towards evening on Sabbath, between the Mincha and Maariv prayers, many Jews gathered in the shteibel of the Chassidim in a rear alley of Sokoly, in order to hear words of encouragement and inspiration from the local Rabbi.

He opened with words of comfort, but the congregants immediately perceived that these were parting words. He said:

Perhaps it will be our fate to die as martyrs and in sanctification of G-d's name. We must prepare for this in our thoughts and preserve spiritual tranquility, as much as possible, because everything comes from G-d, the Creator of the world. Nothing in the world is done without Him. 'A person doesn't hurt his finger unless it is decreed in Heaven.' Therefore, every Jew has the obligation to accept everything with love and fulfill the commandment of 'and you shall love the L-rd your G-d with all your heart and all your soul,' even if He takes your soul… We must not ponder the attributes of G-d. We will never be intelligent enough to understand the ways of the Eternal. We must believe that the Master of the World is merciful.

It is the fate of the completely righteous to bear suffering; this apparently appears contrary to the attributes of G-d. Nevertheless, we must understand that G-d is conducting His world towards high, elevated purposes, bringing us closer to complete redemption, the coming of the Moshiach and the revival of the dead.

The Rabbi wanted to explain everything according to the belief that our world is only an entrance to the World to Come, and that we should accept whatever sacrifice that the L-rd requests of us, including to willingly return our souls to its Owner, and say, with all our hearts, 'I deposit my spirit in Your hand'…and the main thing is the World-to-Come.

The next morning was November 1^st. Sokoly was quiet. The farmers' wagons had not been ordered as they had been in the neighboring towns of Lapy, Wysokie, Zambrow, Bransk, and others.

During the hours of the afternoon, wherever you went and whomever you met, there were no signs of fear or panic. Everyone appeared to be content and calm and no one imagined that we were standing at the mouth of the pit. But at 3:00 p.m., the situation changed drastically and turned into panic. Based on rumors going from one to another, it was indeed true that the farmers around Sokoly had been drafted for the known and expected purpose.

When I came in from the street and told my wife, Tzippa, who was an optimist by nature, how the people felt, she said, “My heart tells me that if G-d wills it, nothing bad will happen to us…and meanwhile, I am very worried that we don't have any bread in the house.”

I ran to the bakery, but I did not get any bread. They said there would be bread in another hour. I ran there a second time and a third time, but there still was no bread. My wife worried because I had not eaten anything since the morning and there would be no bread tomorrow to take to work in Lapy.

Our son Moshele and his friends shut themselves up in another room and conducted secret consultations. In the first room sat my wife, waiting for me to return and for the boys' consultations to end. Eventually they did and Moshe's friends left the house.

Moshe told us that the Judenrat in Sokoly already knew that the “Yellow Satan” had ordered 400 farmers' wagons. At the same time it was known that it was calm in Bialystok and the general opinion was that the expulsion would begin in the outlying towns. Moshe told me that he had to run immediately to one of the villages on an important errand for his friends.

I suggested that he take his mother with him and find her a hiding place in the village, because apparently I would be traveling as usual to Lapy. I also requested that before leaving for the village, he should take the small amount of money and jewelry out of the hiding place inside the wall, along with as much clothing and underwear as he could carry, as long as there was comparative calm and no one would suspect anything. Tomorrow, in the panic that was likely to ensue, it would be too late to think about movables. Most importantly, I asked him repeatedly to take his mother with him.

However, Moshe was caught up entirely, body and soul, with the task his friends had given him. He had to run to the village as quickly as possible, bring back three pistols, and return the same tonight to Sokoly in order to give them out. Not much time remained. The sun was already starting to set. The village was an hour's walk away, and if he took his weak mother and many possessions, he would not be able to fulfill his important task. The five kilometers to the village under those circumstances would take precious time and finding a hiding place for his mother would cause the plan to fail.

Moshe said to me, “There is not enough time to discuss these things now, and at this moment it is impossible for me to deal with anything other than supplying the weapons. Also, there is no reason to worry about our gold when the world is burning. If we remain alive and the world will be rebuilt, we will acquire new gold, and if, G-d forbid, we will perish, what do we need gold for?”

And regarding Imma [Mother], said Moshe, first he would prepare a suitable place to hide. He asked me to take his mother along with clothing and underwear, and join the groups of Jews who were going out the next day to the forests. In any case, he would try to meet us in the forest and provide whatever we lacked.

“Tomorrow might be too late! What if we have to run away in the general panic? Your mother is weak. It is better for you to take her with you before it is too late.”

My wife returned just then from the bakery. When I asked that she change her clothes and go immediately with Moshe to the village, she answered, “Where will I go and where will I turn to in a strange place in the middle of the night? I have a stomach disorder and am likely to immediately suffer stomach pains.”

Moshe did not respond to his mother's arguments because he was worried that he would not have enough time to fulfill his task and his holy obligations to his organization. He went into the kitchen and burst into tears. After he calmed down, he came back, wiped his tears, and kissed his mother and me, reminding us to wait for him in the Idzki forest where we should go together with our neighbors. If Abba [Father] would go to work in Lapy, he should meet his mother and find her a safe place.

Moshe refused to take clothing and boots with him. He immediately ran off to the village to obtain the weapons. When he left, I could not restrain myself and I complained to my wife that the problems of others are closer to his heart than worrying about his parents in times of trouble and need, when the sword of the Angel of Death is at our necks. The people close to himself … and he is worrying about buying two or three pistols, which in any case have no value, compared to the large number of soldiers armed with modern automatic weapons and the Polish police who are also well armed. It also is doubtful if the Pole will want to sell the pistols at a time of calamity and general confusion.

However, my wife, excitedly and with a mother's love, defended her son, saying,

Look, how our son's heart shrank and he cried bitter tears like a baby. No! You can't complain about our son Moshele, may he live and be healthy! He loves his parents and they are very precious to him. He was ready to take me with him, even though I would make his way more difficult and bother him in his task for the honor of Am Yisrael. I myself refused to go the five kilometers with him, because I have a stomach disorder. Moshe is a wonderful boy and the task that was given to him, and that he willingly and responsibly accepted, is holier in his eyes than anything else in the world. It is also doubtful whether he would have succeeded in finding me shelter with the Christian. You know that even the lives of the Poles are in danger if a Jew is found in their homes. It is better for Moshe to first learn the situation in the village. Both of us can trust our son. He will not leave us in need. He is good-hearted and innocent, and there isn't another among thousands as righteous as he is.

I decided to immediately pack the most necessary possessions and be ready at 4:00 a.m. before dawn to accompany my wife and the rest of the neighbors to the Idzki forest. I knew that Moshe would find us and that I would be able to join the group of workers of Lapy. These workers were not concerned for their lives, because they felt that they wouldn't be harmed, since they were an efficient part of the war machine. This was also the opinion of the excellent craftsmen, who were employed on a regular basis by the gendarmia and the administrative management. This is exactly what happened in Rutki and other towns. The Germans left the professionals and the Jews that they needed and expelled the rest of the Jews with maximum cruelty.

On the advice of the Rabbi and the Judenrat, the Lapy workers decided to go to work as usual and gather at the usual time at the Kruszewo train station.

A few tailors, whose job was to sew suits for the gendarmes and the Amstkommissar, did not close their eyes all night, in order to finish their work before morning. Among them were Zussela Charney and Zeidel Berliner, who thought that their dedicated work would rescue them from the Angel of Death. There were Jews who thought that after the panic of the expulsion would quiet down, the Gestapo murderers would leave the town and it would again be possible to somehow continue to live under the auspices of the local Germans who would no longer harm them.

The watchmaker Yisrael Maik, his wife, his 18-year-old son Shmuelke, his 16-year-old daughter Teibele, and his relative Hinda (who was educated from childhood in Yisrael's house) were busy for three hours packing their possessions to hide them in the home of a Christian neighbor who lived in the last house on the same street, the son-in-law of Kuczlaber, Janina Falkowska's lame sister's husband.

The Pole himself took the trouble to move the possessions from the home of the rich Jew Yisrael Maik to his own house. Every five minutes, he would return with an empty sack in order to fill it with more possessions. Gradually, everything was moved to Kuczlaber's house. The Pole made an effort to hide his joy that he had suddenly become the inheritor of the property of an established Jew. As they say, “without a stomach ache or a toothache.” He certainly scorned the Jews' hope and their innocent belief that they would remain alive. There is no doubt that at that moment, he felt himself the owner of everything good – all those things now in his possession.

Visit of Leah Maik with Friends & Relatives in Sokoly, 1937

Dina even believed that they would never conduct a search at Janina's house and that it was a safe place for the expensive items. Falkowska was friendly with the gendarmes and no one would even think to suspect her of hiding capital. Dina agreed to leave her daughter Teibele (Yona) at Janina's house for at least one day until a place could be found for her in the village.

After the Maik family made the arrangements, they locked the door of their house, along with the furniture, wall clocks, bedding, kitchen utensils, and more… it was impossible to take care of these because of a lack of time.

The family started to walk towards the nearby village of Idzki, to the home of an old Polish friend by the name of Wilk with whom they had a fraternal relationship. Yisrael was certain that Wilk would receive him with open arms. Wilk knew that Yisrael was a wealthy man and that it would be worthwhile for him in every respect, as they would pay him for his every service. Meanwhile, as agreed, Maik's daughter Yona remained at Janina's house. The son Shmuelke had to travel to work in Lapy with the other workers who had decided on their own to do so.

In this way, it appeared to Yisrael Maik that the temporary arrangement would somehow succeed, at least for a number of days until the Gestapo would leave the town and the local Germans returned to normal. They needed a watchmaker and goldsmith such as himself, and proof of this was the fact that to date he had worked for them and he was loaded down with unlimited work. So Yisrael Maik hoped and dreamed.

The neighbors were secretly jealous that Yisrael had many Polish acquaintances who were prepared to receive him and his entire family.

After the Maik family had left, their son Shmuelke came to my house and told me, with despair and bitterness, that he could already have been in the Land of Israel four years ago, as he had wanted with all his heart and soul, but his parents had been influenced by the advice of their relatives and had prevented him from going. His heart had prophesized to him that terrible days were coming closer, and there was no reason to remain on Polish soil.

I answered him that four years ago, nobody could have imagined that what was happening in Poland -- the destruction of its Jewry-- would happen. I explained to him that his parents and relatives did not think it was right to allow him to go to the Land of Israel at a time of riots and bloodshed by Arab gangs. Every day, they heard about murders and Jewish victims there, and of course the economic situation was also difficult and there was a crisis in the Land of Israel.

I spoke to him thus:

You, Shmuelke, were then in an excellent situation, and your friends were able to envy that you learned the weaving profession in a short time and your father immediately bought you an electric loom. As a lad of 14, you already were independent; your parents were established and you lived a life of luxury. It is no wonder that people thought you were crazy to leave bread and seek crumbs, to leave a life of wealth and suffer hunger. In any case, no world Holocaust was seen on the horizon, nor was it foreseen that Hitler would complete his satanic plan to destroy the entire Jewish nation.

Shmuelke told me that in today's secret meeting of the youths, it had been decided that part of the Lapy workers would gather in the threshing house belonging to the baker Yechielke Somovitz and the rest at Yosef (Mendritzka) Blustein's house on Mountain Street. All of them would stand guard. In the event that they would see a Gestapo vehicle coming towards the town, they were to quickly disperse and escape to the forests. If everything would go quietly until five in the morning, they would all go as usual to the train station, so as to travel to work in Lapy.

Shmuelke asked me to use only the back door because his father had barred the front door with an iron bar, and added, “If my uncle sleeps in the house, please be very careful, because, the Poles are running around in all the Jewish courtyards and stealing everything they can.”

When Shmuel left, I consulted with my wife whether it was worthwhile to transfer some valuables, clothing and underwear to Janina Falkowska.

At that very moment, Janina passed by our window. I ran to ask her if she would allow me to leave some possessions with her. Janina answered that if I didn't want to become impoverished and remain a “dazhad” (beggar), it would be best for me to remain in the house and guard my property, because “nothing will happen…and to preserve the peace and quiet.” In any case, she was not prepared to take responsibility for watching the property of strangers. She turned around and left.

After speaking with Janina, I went back into the house just as the Polish police officer Yanchenko [Yanchko] came in. He hinted to me that I should go into the next room and lock the door, as if he wanted to reveal a secret. He said that he knew that my family and I were preparing to flee because it was clear to the Jews what awaited them tomorrow. He, Yanchenko, would not prevent or interfere with any Jew from fleeing as he or she wished, but he had a request. He heard that a week ago, my wife wanted to sell four meters of women's dress fabric, and he wanted to buy the fabric and pay “something” for it, because tomorrow they would take everything away from the Jews. My wife answered the Pole that the fabric was sold a few days ago, because she urgently needed the money. Yanchenko immediately left the house without a further word.

We closed the shutters on the windows so that no one outside would be able to see what was done inside the house. It began to get dark. All the traffic stopped and silence reigned in the streets of the town. Shutters were closed and doors were locked. Everywhere it was as silent as the cemetery. Most of the Jewish population had already fled to the forests.

We decided to bring some of our possessions to a Soviet doctor who had remained in the town and was one of Moshe's friends. We packed clothing and the items that we needed the most, and snuck out of the house so that the Poles would not see us with bundles on our shoulders. We walked through dark, deserted alleyways. It was permitted to be outside until 8:00 in the evening. Here and there, gangs of Poles were running around, robbing the homes of those Jews who had already fled and had left some of their possessions behind.

My wife and I did not manage to bring all the bundles we had packed to the Soviet Doctor. I found it necessary to go to the Judenrat to get back my labor card, which I handed in every Sunday morning so as to be able to send someone else to work in my place for payment as was the accepted practice.

There was not a single clerk to be found in the Judenrat office. The Rabbi and a few Jews sat there and read letters from the Jews of Bialystok which had been brought to Sokoly by those who worked in nearby Lapy. In these letters, people advised their relatives in Sokoly to preserve their lives and escape as far as possible from the hands of the murderers by fleeing to the forests, so that they would later be able to succeed in infiltrating the Bialystok ghetto, which, at present, apparently would continue to exist.

On my way back home, I saw gangs of robbers in all the courtyards. They fell upon abandoned Jewish property like wild animals on their prey.

Their owners had locked most of the houses. Sick elderly people, the disabled and such, who trusted in G-d's loving kindness, remained in only a few houses. They did not have enough physical, and perhaps spiritual, strength to run in panic in the darkness of the night to an unknown place, perhaps to destruction. They worried about life in the forest accompanied by hunger, poverty, cold, and suffering. They would accept the judgment decreed upon them in Heaven. They felt there was no other choice.

When my wife and I crossed the threshold of our house, a few Poles burst in after us with the excuse that they had left watches to be repaired with my brother Yisrael and they wanted them back. Since the door at the entrance was barred, they asked to enter through our kitchen, which bordered my brother's house. I tried to threaten them that I would complain to the gendarmes against them for breaking into a house in the absence of the owner. With a great deal of effort I succeeded in getting rid of the robbers and I immediately locked the door. We were afraid to go out of the house even though it was only 7:30 in the evening. We had wanted to take some more of our possessions to the Soviet Doctor.

It remained for me to carry out my decision to wait with my wife in the house until 4:00  in the morning, bring her to the forest, and then return to the group at the train station leaving for work in Lapy. We dressed in a double layer of clothing from the best we had, and thus we lay on the bed in order to get a bit of rest before leaving the house.

We left behind clothing, shoes, bedding, underwear, furniture, radio parts, and various tools used by our son Moshe. I had to abandon my library, numbering hundreds of holy and educational books in different languages, writing supplies, and some works of art, including expensive items that I had inherited and which had been passed down in the family for generations. Every single item in every corner where I looked seemed to beg me not to abandon it and to take it with me. All these possessions seemed to say, “You were accustomed to be glorified by us, and now what will our fate be? In the hands of the defiled ones, we will be regarded like the dust of the earth.”

We got up at 3:00 a.m. I lit a candle and we took packages in our hands. At about 4:00 a.m., with the dawn, we left our house, locking the doors behind us. We walked in fear and looked carefully in all directions to see if, G-d forbid, anyone was following us. Maybe somebody was standing behind the house and would follow our footsteps. We quickly crossed the street and entered the courtyard of Yechielke the baker. Shmuelke Maik had hinted that a group of workers would gather in Yechielke's threshing house. I looked inside, but the threshing house was empty.

We walked over to Yechielke Somovitz's house and stood next to the shutter of one window in order to hear if there was a sign of life inside. We heard a whisper. Speaking through the shutter, I asked them to open the door. They opened it quickly and we went inside where we found Yechiel, his son Chaim, and his son-in-law (Chaya Rivka's husband). The baker Yechielke's young daughter, Chaya Rivka, lay sick in bed after arriving recently from Bialystok with her husband and two young children. Besides the members of the family, several neighbors were also in the house. The men ran worriedly from corner to corner. I asked Chaim Somovitz if his family intended to go to the forest. He answered that he was confused and was unable to decide because Chaya Rivka had not recovered properly. How could they take her there knowing the deplorable conditions in the forest?

We then went to the house owned jointly by my brother and me. Three families lived there: Zeidel Kubaner (the son-in-law of Tuvia's Yudel), Pinia Shmogler and Sotilichs' daughter.

We wanted to join up with other people who were going to the forest because we feared the gangs of robbers on the roads. Our tenants looked at us in amazement that we had taken packages with us. “The Poles will immediately attack you and rob you of everything, and they will even leave you naked in the middle of the forest.”

We went back to our house, left the bundles, and immediately went outside again to the street. We met up with a group of workers going to work in Lapy. I turned to my wife and said to her that I wouldn't have time to accompany her to the forest and then go to the train station. I asked her to join the neighbors or our tenants and go with them and that they should hurry to the forest. I was sure that our son Moshe was waiting for her and would find her immediately. With a heavy heart, I left my wife and went in the direction of the train. After half an hour, Yechiel the baker's son-in-law came and gave me a kilo of bread. He told me that my wife had arrived and had sent the bread for me.

We waited at the Kruszewo train station until 6:00 in the morning. We thought that the train was late as usual.

Exactly at 6:00 a.m., we saw three vehicles moving toward Sokoly on the road that crossed the train tracks. We understood that these were the demons. Our hearts began to pound. They moved straight in the direction of the town and did not stop at the train station at all. We continued to wait for the train to come, with a prayer on our tongues that the engine would appear as quickly as possible and that the quick journey from Sokoly would save us.

After waiting another quarter of an hour, we saw a vehicle at a distance coming back from Sokoly towards us. We instinctively felt that we were in grave danger and, without waiting, we dispersed and began running with all our strength in different directions into the fields with the intent to reach the forest. Through the morning mist, I was able to see rows of country wagons hitched up and undoubtedly intended to be used for the expulsion of the Jews from the town.

When the Gestapo murderers saw us fleeing, they opened fire, but due to the morning mist and the farmers' vehicles, dozens and perhaps hundreds of which were moving in from every direction, the Gestapo lost aim and none of us were injured. We heard shots behind us and sped up until we were breathless. Once in a while we lay down on the ground; and when the shooting stopped again, we continued running even after we had reached the nearby forest. We wanted to get as far away as possible from Sokoly to a place where, relatively speaking, the danger would be less.

After hours of running, I reached the end of a thick forest. On the way, my feet stumbled and I almost stopped breathing – I did not believe that I would reach the forest alive.

The forest was located six kilometers from the town. I counted about 100 Jewish souls, many of them having arrived in the darkness of the night from forests closer to town, afraid that the Germans would comb the forests. I sat down to rest under a tree, and my conscience immediately began to bother me.

Why had I left my wife, Tsipora, alone and in mortal danger? How stupid I was to leave my Tsippa at the mercy of the neighbors! It hadn't even been the neighbors' intention to flee to the forest! Did not Chaim Somovitz specifically say that he would not leave his ill sister alone in his house?! It must be that my wife has fallen victim to the German murderers!

The more I thought, the more my heart broke into pieces… . This was not only folly on my part, but an actual crime! I had recklessly left my wife, who was faithful and loyal to me with all her soul and might…and what reason does my life have without her? I cried and wailed over my dear wife who was certainly a victim in the hands of the cruel murderers!

From moment to moment, the crowd in the forest grew larger, the forest serving as a type of way station. People rested a bit and continued on their way. Groups of people moved into the depths of the forest, trembling and afraid of every sound – even the sound of a falling leaf and the whispering of the trees. The distant echo of a moving vehicle, the sound of horses' hooves, or even the barking of dogs caused trembling in the hearts of the fugitives. What if they start combing the forests outside Sokoly and quickly discover us there, or the other expected possibility of being attacked by gangs of Polish robbers?

I saw a few of my neighbors among the crowd of fugitives in the forest, among them Yechielke the baker's son-in-law. He told me that Chaim Somovitz had not moved from his house and had remained there with his ill sister and her children. The man cried bitterly that he had abandoned his poor family to the hands of the murderers. Now he was convinced that it would be better to die together with his young children, who were more precious to him than anything else. He saw his 4-year-old son, a beautiful child – like an angel – and his sweet daughter Michaleh, aged three, stretching her arms out and looking at him with her beautiful eyes, as if she were begging him not to go away from her. If strangers were excited by and loved the tots, how much more so did their father love them with a passion? It was sad to see the man burdened with his morose tragedy. I was surprised how he could continue to exist and overcome his misfortune.

I saw Shaya Seines, the son of Chava and Moshe Tzvi among another group of fugitives. He did not stop talking, praising and counting the attributes of his 2½-year-old daughter Rivkele – how she talked and understood everything that was said to her and how much she loved her Abba (father); how she would hug him with both arms when he came home from working in Lapy, saying, “Abbale, my dear, good Abbale, I missed you all day and waited for you to come back to me!” Shaya did not stop talking about his daughter; his heart weeping within him.

Fugitives continued to stream into the forest, each one with his own deep pain for his relatives, his dear ones who were not with him and for their bitter fate.

Slowly the basic question began to rack our brains: What will happen to us and what will be our fate? It is true that we were able to escape from the initial fire, but where will we go? Where is the corner where we can go and the stone upon which we can rest our heads…? This way or that, we are lost and doomed to die. It is forbidden for us to be seen by those who are waiting to threaten our lives. How long can we wander in the forest?

In everyone's opinion, the murderers will conduct searches for us, and it is already autumn, the season with its rain and cold and snow. The winter, with its intense frost, will be crueler to us. Above all, what worries us is the question of provisions and clothing.

But we must be realistic. It is not the right time to think about the future. We must only think about today and our life at this moment… .

Members of families were cut off from each other. Parents were in one forest, and their children, in the best case, in another forest. The Lapy workers had run from the train station into the forest. Others had already fled the day before from the town, dispersing in all four directions wherever their feet took them. Some had fled today before dawn. Many remained in Sokoly and fell into the hands of the murderers.

Of the entire crowd, only a few were familiar with the forest and its surroundings; so they became guides for the others.

I joined a group led by Neta Chernievsky, the son of Sarake's Leibel. Neta intended to reach his family, who had fled the night before to the Jamiolki forest. This forest bordered the Bruszewo forest, towards which my son Moshe had gone yesterday. I hoped I would meet him there.

There were a number of men with their wives and children in our group. One of them was a learned rabbi from the Gemara study group, Rabbi Shimon Bar, who had recently come to live in Sokoly from Wysokie-Mazowiekie. He fled to the forest with his wife, son, and daughter. Another was the Rebbitzen from Sokoly with her 5-year-old daughter Chayele and her son Yankele, a tot aged three, who was a “wonder boy”[wunderkind] and knew prayers and sections of the Chumash from memory. The Rabbi's three daughters, aged 10, 12, and 14, had fled with their friends the day before to another forest. The Rabbi's oldest child, his 17-year-old son Berel, a genius in Torah, remained in one of the Lithuanian yeshivot. The Rabbi himself did not flee, but remained in Sokoly and certainly fell into the hands of the wild animals.

Neta Chernievsky saw that the group accompanying him was too big – with old people, women and children who were likely to frustrate his plans to reach his family – so he tried to evade them. I saw that he was not happy with the situation. I tried to walk at a distance from him, but not too far, as I wanted to keep him always in sight since I felt that I could only reach my son with Neta's help. On the way, we came across other groups of Jews.

Suddenly, we heard the sound of a vehicle. Fear gripped us all. We thought that the Germans were combing the forest and had discovered us. In a second, we dispersed and hid behind bushes and trees. While doing so, I and a number of people from Neta's group found ourselves among another group of people who were being led by Kalman Jaskolka, Shlomke's son.

Neta Chernievsky took advantage of the confusion and quickly disappeared. Thus, he was freed of his unwanted companions.

When I found out that Jaskolka and his group were going in the opposite direction, my heart almost stopped. I had no money with me. Moreover, I was afraid and trembled at every shadow lest it be a German or a Polish robber who would take everything away from me and leave me naked. Rumors spread that in all the villages the Germans posted signs warning the residents not to hide Jews in their houses. Any Christian caught hiding a Jew would be shot.

When the shadows of evening approached, my discouragement grew. New groups were no longer arriving from Sokoly. The few people who had arrived in the forest during the afternoon met up with Jaskolka's group. They told us that the Gestapo had shot a few Jews. The pharmacist and his young wife were among the first of these. This happened when they fled from the pharmacy owned by the Christian Kolesh on Kusczelna Street (Tifla Gass). The Jewish pharmacist thought that working in the Christian quarter in a pharmacy belonging to a Christian would save him, but he found out that the officers of the Gestapo were also searching for Jews among the Poles. He fled with his wife, carrying his infant daughter, up to the Christian cemetery, and from there they continued on towards Leibel Dinhas' forest. A German lookout on the tower next to the cemetery saw them fleeing and shot and killed them. The baby fell from her mother's arms and was thrown into a farmer's wagon, which brought her, with other Jews, to be killed.

Two workers who arrived at the train station too late to flee with us were shot. They were Avraham Lapchinsky, the son of Leibel the blacksmith, and Hershel Schweitznik, the son of Tova Devorah the hat-maker and the grandson of Mosheke Neiberg the butcher.

They told us that the Gestapo, with the assistance of the Polish police, had rounded up several hundred Jews, among them the Rabbi and Shmuel Leib [Lev] the Shochet as well as superior craftsmen, such as Zeidke [Zeidel] Berliner, Sokoly's excellent tailor, his wife and their two children. Zeidel did not sleep all night, as mentioned above. With all his remaining strength he tried to finish sewing a suit for the Amstkommissar so that he could give it to him at 6:00 in the morning. Zeidel was certain that if he would be at the mayor's house with the suit in his hand at the fateful hour, the German would take pity upon him and his family and would not hand them over to the murderers.

The brothers Alter and Yisrael Sarnovitz, mechanic smiths, thought the same. They were the sons of Avrahamke the blacksmith. They worked and slaved every day for the Amstkommissar and the gendarmes, who could not relinquish them because of their great efficiency at their work. They believed that the Amstkommissar would protect them and allow them and their families to remain in the town. The “Yellow Satan” did indeed receive all the jobs that he ordered from the smiths, and immediately afterwards he handed his expert workers and their families over to the murderers.

Among the victims that first day in Sokoly was Shmuelke Maik, my brother's 18-year-old son. At 5:00 in the morning, Shmuelke was on his way to the train station to join the workers going to Lapy. When he passed his parents' house he felt that he should peep in to see that everything was all right. He immediately saw that one of the shutters had been burst open and broken. He crawled inside and saw that bedding and other large possessions, whose absence was obvious, had been stolen. In his anger at the robbery, he forgot for a moment in what world we are living. He stayed there and began to interrogate the Christian neighbors. The Gestapo saw him and arrested him on the spot.

On the first day of the expulsion of the Jews from Sokoly, the Germans gathered 500 Jews with the help of the Polish police and brought them in farmers' wagons to the infamous military camp of the Tenth Battalion near Bialystok.

These were the “greetings” from Sokoly on the first day.

I searched among the fugitives for people going in the direction of the village where my son Moshe had gone. All of them answered that they were not familiar with the roads and paths and therefore were not going in any specific direction. If that was the case, how could I go by myself to my son when I did not even know the way? What fields and forests would I have to pass through, which paths should I tread, and which ones should I cross? From which Christian stranger should I ask the way, and from which one should I hide?

I was depressed and discouraged. In addition to my own situation, I also suffered from the people around me. The youths were impertinent and had long tongues…without a trace of politeness. Everyone was poor. Only three out of 25 people had an amount of 25 marks with them, a few had five marks each, and I had only four marks in my pocket. All the rest of the people in the group had no money at all.

On the first day, the people somehow managed to eat the portions of food that they had taken with them. I had the one kilogram of bread that my wife had sent to me at the train station. On that day, people ate almost nothing, because they were so upset by what was happening. The youths were very thirsty, but they had nothing to quench their thirst. A number of times the youths ran to the nearest settlement and drew water. At first, they drank plenty and filled bottles with water to bring back to the forest, but they did not stand up to the test and emptied them completely, returning to the group with empty bottles.

As Kalman Jaskolka was wandering in the Budziska forest at the head of the group, he met Yossel Malon's son. Malon used to sell to the residents of the surrounding villages. Both of them decided to enter a village near the house of a Christian acquaintance to find out what had happened to their families. They assumed that he might know something about them. Jaskolka and Malon turned aside and whispered in secret. The group understood that their guides were planning to elude them because the group had become an obstacle in their path. All their hearts were filled with despair…. Where will we go without a guide? Now we will be like sheep without a shepherd!

One of the workers in the group, a young man from Czyzewo named Buczka who had recently arrived in Sokoly, stepped forward and announced:

“Friends! It is forbidden for us to be left without Kalman Jaskolka! Without him, we will be lost in the depths of the forest like young lambs, since no one knows the paths. Where he goes, we will go!”

Without any discussion, everyone agreed with Buczka. When Kalman came back from consulting with his friend, he informed us that he wanted to enter the village to get news about his parents and family. Then Buczka turned to him and said, “Listen, Kalman! It is forbidden for you to leave an entire community at such a very difficult and fateful hour for all of us. You are the only guide! As long as we do not have another leader, please do not abandon us!”

Kalman answered, “How can so many lean on a single person and make it difficult for him when he longs to meet with his family, or when he has the possibility of finding a Christian acquaintance who will give him a bed in his house, or will be prepared to hide him during these difficult days? Does he have to sacrifice his life to a group of people?”

Buczka answered, “We will not make it difficult for you and we will not, G-d forbid, bother you if you find a refuge, but do not leave us until tomorrow. We hope to find another guide in your place and release you from the yoke that is too heavy for you, as you have said.”

After arguing back and forth, it was decided to send three representatives from the group to accompany Kalman and Malon to the village: Buczka, Chaim Tzvi Rachekovsky and the son of Beila Gittel Djajeh [Dzhazhe], one of two brothers who were in our group.

Buczka had only settled in Sokoly in 1942. The Germans had expelled his wife and two children with the Jews of Czyzewo. Buczka himself escaped to his sister in Sokoly. He was a blacksmith – not educated, but an intelligent, serious young man with a talent for organization. In his childhood, Buczka had lived in a village. He was attached to the company of the goyim and the life of the farmers. He spoke Polish with a farmers' accent. In addition, he had the talent of fascinating any villager with his conversation and interesting him in such a way that he immediately became his loyal and faithful friend.

Chaim Tzvi Rachekovsky spoke pure Polish with literary expressions. However, he was far from being able to engage a villager in conversation. Only Buczka could do that.

The five of them, with Kalman Jaskolka at their head, entered the village and headed toward the Christian acquaintance's house. The owner of the house informed Jaskolka that the members of his family had indeed passed through the village that morning and had rested for a short time before continuing on their way. He said that he did not know any other details about Kalman's family. Regarding the situation in Sokoly, the farmer added that the Amstkommissar had a list of several hundred Jews who had fled from the town and apparently searches could be expected in the entire area.

Notices had been posted in all the villages – warnings to the residents that anyone hiding a Jew would be punished by death. Notices were also sent to each head of a village council (Soltis), stating that every farmer was obligated to inform the Soltis about where Jews could be found and to reveal the places where Jews were hiding. Anyone who handed a Jew over to the regime would be awarded a prize, and anyone hiding information about the location of Jews would be punished severely.

The warnings spread panic and fear among the farmers. Even close friends who had been prepared to help the Jews in their trouble were afraid of endangering their own lives and the lives of their families.

After our delegation returned from the village, everyone lay down to sleep behind thick bushes in the forest.

At about 4:00 a.m. everyone awoke and rose from their forest “beds” in order to move further into the depths of the forest, far from the roads and far from people. After walking for a long time, the company sat down among the shrubbery to rest.

Only then did the problem of food arise, because the bread they had taken with them for the trip was completely finished. On that fateful Sunday, the day of the expulsion, there had been difficulty in obtaining food in Sokoly, and people were not equipped with a sufficient amount of bread for more than one day. There were some Jews who had already eaten all their bread the previous night.

Buczka from Czyzewo now became the leader of the group of fugitives. All of them had regard for him and respected him. He was our representative when it was necessary to negotiate with a farmer about ordinary matters. He did this with the talent of an outstanding mediator, and in our eyes, every farmer was an officer or a senior official… Everyone in our group voluntarily obeyed Buczka's orders. When the problem of food was discussed, Buczka suggested that the people who were familiar with the paths should go first to the village so as not to get lost and fail their mission – which was our mission, too.

Accordingly, Jaskolka and Malon were sent to the nearby village for the purpose of buying as much bread as possible, because both of them had acquaintances there. At the same time, a number of youths were sent in a different direction through the forest to search for food in another nearby settlement.

After two hours, Jaskolka and Malon came back equipped with five kilograms of bread at the price of two marks per kilogram, double the price of bread in Sokoly on the day before the expulsion. The second group did not succeed in buying anything, but a kind-hearted farmer had given them two kilograms of bread free of charge.

It was difficult to divide the small amount of bread into 25 hungry mouths. Youths, as well as adults, pushed themselves in so as to receive larger portions. Noise and grabbing began, like in a pack of hungry wolves, and Jaskolka's and Malon's five kilograms of bread barely satisfied 12 people. The others had to wait for the second group, and their bread was divided into very small portions.

Buczka ordered the youth to knock on doors of the villagers and ask for bread. He thought that the people of the village would not refuse to give them bread, and that even the worst person would give a helping hand to the hungry and homeless lads. A few of the youths took Buczka's advice and spread out towards the villages. But the gentiles are not “merciful ones, the sons of merciful ones,” and don't know the reasoning of a hungry boy who is fleeing from death. The lads returned, bringing with them only a few raw beets that they had started to eat in order to drive away their hunger pangs.

Again, the question arose of what now? What possibility would we have of living in the forest without a roof over our heads during the rainy days of autumn, with the storms and frost of the approaching winter, without any money?

What chances remained to us at all, at a moment when the Germans were preparing to make thorough searches and every villager was afraid to give shelter to a Jew, or at least to allow him to sleep one night in his threshing shed? Many of the people I was with dreamed at first of joining the Soviet partisans in the forest and fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with them against the common enemy – the Germans. Of course, they would not lack anything because the partisans are organized and they have hidden bunkers in which they have everything, including many weapons. That dream evaporated quickly because it became clear that the Soviet and Polish comrades-in-arms were nothing but gangs of robbers who, with their weapons in their hands, were attacking deserted, homeless Jews and pursuing them to death. They stripped the clothing from their poor victims and left them naked and barefoot in the heart of the forest.

This news reached our ears from Christian acquaintances who told us about the fate of a number of Jews from Sokoly who had been robbed in this manner by gangs of Polish “partisans” including a number of armed Russians. The gangs pulled the boots off their victims' feet, stripped them of vests and coats, and stole everything they had. There were some robbers who still had a spark of conscience and gave their victims rags to wear in place of the stolen clothing.

When they heard these things, the members of Buczka's group plotted how not to draw the attention of robbers to their “good” clothing. A few of them ripped out the seams of their clothes so they would appear worn-out and tattered; others sewed patches on the backs and sleeves of their clothes. They covered their boots with mud and rolled their pants over the boots to cover them. The rest of the people did not have to take these actions, because their clothing was worn and torn in any case, such that the entire group appeared miserable and pitiful.

While it was still daylight, a number of young Polish goyim appeared who apparently came in order to check whether it was worthwhile to “deal” with us. They looked at each one of us, measuring us from head to toe. As was his custom, Buczka immediately entered into a conversation with the uninvited visitors. He spoke to them in a friendly way, reaching a point in the conversation where he asked them how to find shelter and whether it was possible to join the Polish partisan camps. The conversation continued for over half an hour. At the end, one of them asked if anyone had any cigarettes, and one of our people pointed to me. I was lying curled up under a tree, but I gave a cigarette to the one who asked. He made an effort to inspect me up and down, but since all our people looked worthless and the few goyim did not feel strong enough against dozens of us, they left us alone and politely went away.

We immediately left the place where they had found us and went deeper into the forest, worried that those goyim would come back accompanied by armed robbers.

After walking a number of kilometers in the direction of the village of Wienda, we sat down to rest. A few of our lads ran with bottles in their hands to the nearby village in order to draw some water. They returned with their vessels full of fresh water and told us that on the way they had met Rachel Leah from Wienda with her entire family and other women and children. Jaskolka, Malon, and a few others from our group ran to meet the women in the hope that they might hear something about the fate of their families.

Rachel Leah from Wienda was born, educated and grew up in the village. She was married in Wienda and there gave birth to three sets of twins – all sons. A few years before the war broke out, Rachel Leah moved to Sokoly with her family. She ran a haberdashery business and her clients were the many villagers that she knew. During the German occupation, she dealt in smuggling food items from the country to the town. She was a superior businesswoman and knew how to mentally compute complicated accounts, even though she did not know how to read and write. She supplied all kinds of merchandise to the villagers and filled their needs. She looked like a typical village woman and spoke Polish with a country accent. This made it easy for her to go around in the villages without arousing suspicion that she was Jewish. Her first four sons were vigorous and talented boys.

After the expulsion from Sokoly, Rachel Leah stayed in the forest with her family not far from the village of her birth – Wienda. Her husband Meir from Wienda took care of the two infants, the twins, who were lying like chicks on feather pillows and covered with cushions. They nursed from bottles containing a mixture of milk and water. One of the sons tended to their only cow, which they had succeeded in bringing to the forest. The cow had previously been among the herd of cows in Sokoly. Rachel Leah foresaw what would happen so she had brought the cow to her village before the Germans took the cows away from the Jews of Sokoly. Her older boys helped their mother sell the merchandise that remained to them from before the expulsion, and the middle son helped his father take care of the babies and carry them everywhere. Meir from Wienda had a large siddur that contained Psalms and daily selections from the Bible, Mishna and Talmud, and he studied it when the babies fell asleep or lay content or in those moments when he was free of all work.

Women and children accompanied Rachel Leah in the forest. They ate her bread and the cooked food that friends in the village had prepared for her and which her sons had brought with them. The boys went there unhesitatingly and without fear, because they had grown up with the village lads and every corner was home to them.

With regard to the weather, we managed to endure the cold during the first two days of the expulsion, even though it was the end of the [Hebrew] month of Cheshvan [November]. Rain had not yet fallen.

When Jaskolka and those accompanying him met with Meir from Wienda, a continuous rain began to fall. Meir tightened the cushions around the babies. He did not have any news for us other than what we already knew.

I asked him to advise me how I could get to the village where my son was. He warned me not to dare to do that because the Germans and Polish police were swarming around in all the villages near Sokoly, not to mention spies! And so, what could I do?

I envisioned rescue only if I could meet up with my son Moshe, but how could I do that when I had only four marks in my pocket which would barely be enough for bread for two days?! If I went out on a long trip to seek my son, where would I go and with whom if nobody were going in that direction?

Jaskolka and his companions went out to the village again on the second evening to try to discover the fate of their families and maybe to check out the possibility of finding temporary shelter for reasonable payment. However, this time they returned empty-handed. Every Christian was afraid to endanger himself with a death penalty. In any case, the possibility of finding shelter for many people could not be imagined. Once again, we all slept in the forest under the shelter of trees and bushes.

On Wednesday, November 4th [1942], Buczka evaluated our financial situation. Concerned that we should not suffer from hunger, he and Chaim Tzvi Rachekovsky asked everyone in the group to participate by contributing an amount of money so that they could order a stock of bread for at least one week and pay an acquaintance in the village to prepare hot food once a day. It became clear that the amount of money the comrades gave him was not enough and would suffice only for one day's food. Buczka and Jaskolka went alone to the village to make contact with a trustworthy person who would be willing to sell them food and cook for them. Rachekovsky and Malon went in a different direction for the same purpose.

Buczka and Jaskolka saw a farmer standing near his straw barn. They slowly approached and called him aside into the woods to talk. The man talked to them pleasantly and in a friendly manner, and they suggested the bread and food transaction to him. Buczka convinced the man that the matter would be completely secret and would not be seen by anyone. They would signal him, and then he would put the food under a certain bush. They explained that he would not be in any danger and that he would earn a nice amount of money every day.

Our friends further suggested to the good farmer that he allow our people to sleep in his straw barn, while taking special precautions. We would enter during the late hours of the night, when everyone in the surrounding area was asleep and leave before dawn. We would return to the forest at 4:00 a.m. Of course the farmer would be paid in exchange for all these actions on our behalf. After a short hesitation, the farmer agreed. But he could give us a final answer only towards evening, after he consulted with his wife. In any case, he did not have any prepared bread, but food could be prepared within an hour.

Meanwhile, Rachekovsky and Malon returned, bringing with them five kilos of bread for 25 hungry mouths. The bread was divided into small, but equal portions.

After a short time, all the people in our group walked in the direction of the farmer's house and stopped some distance away. Our two leaders approached the bush, took the pot, and ran to meet us. We sat down on the ground, expecting to taste some food and enjoy a meal after three days of wandering. The food contained potatoes and mushrooms, and was sparse. When Buczka saw the contents of the pot, he immediately understood that it could not satisfy the hunger of 25 people, and he took care that it would be distributed as exactly and rightfully as possible.

The farmer was not prosperous and his family was small. The cooking pots in his house were the size his family needed. It was clear that the food did not satisfy us, but instead, over-stimulated our appetites. We went back to the forest hungrier than before. After the noon meal, we went deeper into the forest and again we sat down to consult each other and survey the situation.

Buczka made it clear that we did not have any choice but to split up into smaller groups, because there was no chance of convincing any farmer to provide shelter for 25 people for one night and even more so for a longer period. Rain, snow, and frost could be expected any day, and it would be difficult to endure without a roof over our heads. On the other hand, a small group of people has a better chance of squeezing into some warm corner if they would come across villagers with some human heart.

Therefore, Buczka suggested that the youths and older men whose families had fled to other forests should leave tomorrow morning in order to reunite with their families. Who knows what awaits them on the way? But there is no choice! They will have to go from one group to another that they meet on the way. They will ask and investigate in order to find signs and directions to the place where their dear ones are.

Everyone realized that Buczka was right and that his opinion should be considered. But how could we go without a guide? Would the present guides, Jaskolka and Malon, go together in one direction?

Towards evening, Buczka came to the village farmer who was asked whether we could sleep in his straw barn.

He answered that he was willing to endanger himself and accept five adults, but Heaven forbid, no children because they are accustomed to chatter and run around, and this is extremely dangerous. However, he did agree that all of us could sleep there one night on condition that we arrive at night after 10:00 p.m., lie down quietly, and cover ourselves with heaps of straw. No chatting, coughing, or snoring and no living soul must remain in the straw barn in the morning after 4:00 a.m.

At exactly 10:00 p.m. we stole one by one into the straw barn in absolute silence, following the villager's instructions. We were careful not to say a word nor to make the slightest sound. At 4:00 a.m., when total darkness still reigned outside, we left the barn and returned into the depths of the forest.

Buczka informed us that he could no longer worry about all the people in the group and suggested that everyone worry about himself with regard to food and a place to sleep. Of course, everyone felt depressed and discouraged and saw no way out. In Buczka, we lost a friend who was concerned about us. We lost a leader and representative, a planner who carried out his plans and awakened hope and confidence in all our hearts. Now, he joined up with the two guides and two others, the most well-to-do comrades, who formed a group of five. Apparently, they had spoken previously with the farmer, and we knew that they would sleep permanently in his straw barn and be under his protection.

On Thursday, November 5th, the fourth day of wandering in the forests, seven more members of our group left us, all former neighbors. They decided to go from forest to forest in the direction of Sokoly in order to look for their families. They entered one village in order to supply themselves with bread and by chance they met up with former Jewish neighbors who gave them complete and exact information about where their relatives were.

Other members of our group joined Rachel Leah from Wienda and her entourage.

That afternoon, an old, widowed, Christian woman who lived in a remote cottage, approached those of us who remained in the forest and asked for a Jewish boy to work for her as a shepherd. She promised to take good care of him and to provide him with everything. The most likely candidate was a 9-year-old boy who spoke Polish well and looked Christian, the son of Beila Gittel and Meir Gedalia Djajeh the builder (who was living in America) and the grandson of Molar. With him in the group was his 13-year-old brother.

Buczka did us one more good service before he left. He spoke with the old widow and convinced her to take all five of the lads into her home; that is, the first boy's brother and three of their friends. The woman asked where the boys' parents were from, and it turned out that she knew them well. From Feivel Lev, Baruchke's father, she was accustomed to buy groceries; from the parents of Shmuelke Rabinek she bought leather goods, and Yisrael Kapitowsky made shoes for her. She agreed to take all five boys into her house, and they immediately went with her.

Buczka also did not disappoint me. “His” farmer agreed to take me at sunset to the village of Bruszewo – to my son Moshe. What remained was to take care of three, 12-year-old boys. Chaimke Goldin was Moshele's grandson, a quiet boy, his parents' only son, handsome and successful. The other two were the sons of the shoemaker Todras from Wysokie-Mazowiekie who came to Sokoly when the war broke out. Buczka spoke to the boys and told them that they should follow the farmer who would take me to Bruszewo. On no account were they to let him know that they were there. When they got closer, they would go on their own because they were familiar with the area.

The boys liked the idea. Chaimke said that he knew the forest near Sokoly well, and that in Bruszewo there were people he knew who frequently came to his father's oil-press. A Christian farmer by the name of Macziewski was a close friend of his parents and lived in Bruszewo. Chaimke himself had visited Macziewski's house a number of times. The Todras boys reasoned that from Bruszewo they could get to the Ros and Mazury forests and most probably meet people they knew from Wysokie-Mazowiekie. They also knew hundreds of Christians there as well as the paths. Repeatedly Buczka reminded the boys to keep their distance from me so that the farmer would not sense their presence. At the same time, they were to watch out so as not lose sight of me.

I asked Buczka how much the transportation would cost, emphasizing that I only had two marks in my pocket, along with two packages of tobacco from Curacao (the price of each of these being four marks). Buczka comforted me that everything would be all right and I should not worry. I handed over the two packages of tobacco to Jaskolka.

The farmer arrived at 5:00 p.m. Buczka asked him the price and he said he wanted ten marks for his trouble. Buczka convinced him to take five marks from old Maik, because he was poor and without any more money. The farmer agreed because five marks was still good earnings. I must point out that he was a wonderful, good-hearted man who wanted with all his soul to help the persecuted Jews. There were few like him among the Poles, and it is very regrettable that I do not remember his name.

My benefactor, the farmer, requested that I walk about a hundred paces behind him so that no one would suspect him of helping a Jew and because his life depended upon it. When we had distanced ourselves from the place, suddenly the three boys got too close to me. I begged them not to interfere with me, not to endanger the farmer with their presence, and that they had to keep their distance. They promised that as soon as we reached Bruszewo they would disappear from my horizon like the night and go their own way. It was already dark, they insisted, and no one could see us. They walked closer only in order not to lose track of me.

Despite all the warnings, the farmer caught sight of the boys and explained to them how great the danger was to him and to them. The boys begged him to have pity and not drive them away and that they would soon go their own way.

The farmer, my guide, would occasionally stop and with trepidation look around in every direction. The boys angered him because they broke their promise by not keeping their distance from us. There were moments when he wanted to get out of this dangerous situation and go home. He talked to himself and cursed the day that he had agreed to such a crazy adventure that threatened him with death. The straightest line to Bruszewo was about five kilometers, but he had became confused and went around in circles. The farmer had estimated that it would take about two hours to get there, yet here we were already walking for three hours and far from our destination.

We saw lights in the distance. When we came closer, the farmer told me to wait while he went to see where we were. It turned out that this was the village of Jamiolki. German guards were standing next to the bridge at the entrance to the village. The farmer came back, trembling and frightened. It was a great miracle that they did not see him.

We went in another direction, and again saw lights. This time it was the village Piszczaty, which is near Bruszewo. For safety's sake it was necessary to enter the village from the side. In order to prevent any suspicion, my benefactor said that he was looking for a shepherd from Bruszewo who had been recommended to him. We finally arrived in Bruszewo after walking for five hours. Even in peacetime you could not find anyone, even the neediest person, to travel 15 or 16 kilometers for a wage of five marks. I saw the man as an angel who was sent from Heaven to rescue me from distress.

We reached the edge of the village and the farmer asked who would pay him for his trouble? I answered that I had given Jaskolka two packages of tobacco for him and I added ten cigarettes. The man parted from me amicably. He was willing to bring me to the center of the village, but it was already 10:00 p.m. and he had a long way to travel in the dark to reach home.

The Todras boys put on a very pitiful show for me. They did not let me alone for a minute which could have caused our plan to fail. I advised them to spread out and go to the homes of their acquaintances, as they had already agreed to do, and ask for bread and permission to sleep in their barns. Tomorrow they could continue on to the Idzki forest where they might find their parents. I added that they would not improve their situation by following me, because it was unimaginable that anyone in the village would agree to take care of all four of us and that during the course of events and carelessness, they were likely to bring destruction upon me and upon themselves. My words did not convince them.

Meanwhile, the dogs began barking more and more every minute, until there was a whole chorus of barking. Hearing this canine symphony, people started coming out of their houses to see who the visitors who had arrived were. Maybe they were robbers?

In the midst of all the confusion, the boys became emboldened and entered one of the cottages to ask for some water. The farmer was worried because they had come inside his house so he brought a pitcher of water outside. He warned that Germans were walking around in the village.

At that moment I approached the farmer to ask him where the Kalinowski farm was located. To my great happiness the man was a confidant of the villager at whose house my son Moshe was staying. Both of them belonged to the A.K. underground organization.

The man knew me personally, but I did not know him at all. It became clear that he had been accustomed to buy schoolbooks for his children and sometimes a Polish newspaper from me.

With a friendly smile, he said to me, “Mr. Maik? Good evening! It is good that I met you. I will bring you to your son. Ho! Ho! Your son will be very happy. He already knows that they took his mother away; at least he has one of his parents!”

He put his arm into mine and pulled me forward, but he sensed that the boys were following in our footsteps. He whispered that I should send them in another direction. Staczek is very careful and it is best that no one should suspect, Heaven forbid, that a Jew is under his roof. No one in the village would even think about hiding Jews, except for Staczek's faithful friend. He is certain that because of the boys, his friend will not open his door to me. I hid my anger and quietly turned to the boys:

“What's with you, they won't let me enter the house either, and this will not bring you any benefit. Try to knock on the doors of your parents' friends, where you have a better chance. The man who is hiding my son is endangering his life; he is very careful and is afraid of any slight sound. You see that my son wasn't even able to save his mother.”

The Todras boys did not want to listen to what I said. They threatened that if I would not allow them to come with me, they would cause such a scandal that my son would be driven out and his hiding place exposed to everyone.

The Christian farmer interrupted and told the boys that they should not cause any harm to Mr. Maik. He told them to go to the home of Staczek's brother, not too far away. He promised them that the owner would not refuse to let them sleep in the barn.

Chaim Goldin, a lad who was calmer than his two friends, tried to reason with them, saying that they really would not benefit from all this and that they were just putting an obstacle in the way of old Maik. Whereas my pleading with the boys did not help, the brief words of Chaim Goldin did. Without saying goodbye, the boys turned away from the farm belonging to Kalinowski, Staczek's brother.

The Christian farmer complimented me and introduced himself as Antony Maczuszko. After walking a short distance, we reached Kalinowski's farm, where I was supposed to find my son.

We entered the house. Kalinowski, the 70-year-old owner of the farm, had retired for the night. Maczuszko sat down next to him on the bed and introduced me, adding a few warm words about the difficult times, troubles and consolations. I asked Kalinowski where his sons were. He told me they would come back in a little while.

I sipped water. I had not eaten for 36 hours, but to ask for some slices of bread was beneath my dignity. I drank more water from thirst, hunger, fatigue, nervousness, and tension. I sat on a bench and waited. I sat there for hours, but Kalinowski's sons did not yet return. Maczuszko had gone home a long time ago. The old man suggested that I lie down on the bench and put out the kerosene lantern.

In the darkness, I pondered the miracles and wonders that G-d had done for me, sending good angels in the images of two Christians to light my way, which was planted with thorns and thistles. One, who brought me along a difficult, and dangerous path in exchange for two packages of tobacco; and the second, Maczuszko, had come out of his house late at night to give water to the boys. He recognized me and agreed to bring me here. Without these miraculous events, I would have died from hunger and thirst in the forest. By nature, I am fearful and lack confidence. I would not have been able to take the initiative to reach my son Moshe on my own.

I grew tenser every moment; I was very excited about meeting my son. When would he come already? Where was he now? At 4:00 a.m. Kalinowski's youngest son, Palek, came in.

I asked him, “Where is Staczek?”

“He is not home, he will come back later. Meanwhile, you have to go to the forest! It is very dangerous these days for a Jew to be in the house of a Christian!”

I asked Palek to show me a place to hide until Staczek came because the forest near the house was relatively small and the trees were too sparse to hide there without being found. But Palek answered me angrily:

“It is not my business to hide Jews and I cannot show you every place on our farm. It is forbidden for you to stay in our house another minute!”

As I got up to leave the house, Kalinowski's oldest son, Jozef, arrived at a run. He was a good friend of mine who lived at some distance from there. He made a lot of noise and tumult, and told me that before midnight, some Jewish boys had knocked on his door when his family was asleep and said that they had arrived together with old Maik from Bruszewo, and that Maik went to Kalinowski's house to meet his son.

Jozef raised his voice and yelled at his father, “How could he give permission to Staczek to hide a Jew in their house? If the neighbors know about it, the Germans will immediately know about it too and they won't hesitate to destroy us and burn down our farm. From the moment that those boys came to me, I haven't closed my eyes!”

In anger, he grabbed a pole and fell upon me to beat me. He screamed: “Get out of here as quickly as possible; otherwise I will break your head open!!”

Like an arrow, I fled from the house. My heart was beating very fast. I hid behind the cowshed and looked through the cracks, prepared for and expecting the arrival of Staczek, who would take me to my son Moshe's hiding place.

Jozef went outside to the yard to see where I had gone. He saw me, and I had to flee further away. To my joy, Staczek just then arrived. Apparently they had regard for and respected him, and the proof of this was that as soon as he had arrived, they calmed down and were quiet.

Staczek took me to the nearby forest and explained to me politely that he could not take me to meet Moshe who was hidden in a safe bunker which could not be approached during daylight hours. He pointed to a place dug out in the ground and told me to lie there without fear until dark. He added words of encouragement and promised to bring me some food. If one of the shepherds should happen to pass by, I should hide in the bushes on the side. The shepherds would not cross the woods that day. I unhesitantly followed Staczek's instructions. I lay in the pit all that day, curled up and trembling from every leaf that fell and afraid of every shadow. At noon, Staczek brought me cooked food and a large slice of bread.

After a fast of two days, the food revived my soul and sustained my heart. I waited impatiently for nightfall, with praise to G-d that I had merited the yearned-for meeting with my son. When night fell, Moshe and I were at last reunited with great emotion and we took turns recounting to one another everything that had happened to each of us in recent days from the moment we had parted.

We were still talking when Staczek stopped us, saying, “Nu, nu, it is enough for today that you have met and you told each other enough about everything. Now old Maik must return to his hiding place in the forest, where he came from, and you, Mushko, must return to your bunker.”

“No!” said Moshele. “I will not leave my old father alone and without support. He will be next to me wherever I am and wherever I go. If you refuse to allow Abba to stay with me in the bunker, you will force me to find another hiding place.”

There was a moment of silence. A thought passed through my mind, and I suggested to Staczek that he agree to let me stay in exchange for all our valuables in Sokoly that we had left with the Soviet Doctor.

Apparently the suggestion intrigued Staczek. The expression on his face changed, and he invited us both to come to his house. After we ate a tasty dinner at his table, he brought us to another bunker in the forest where there were a number of radio receivers, automatic weapons, and a pocket flashlight. The instruments had previously been under Moshe's care. The floor of the bunker was covered with a thick layer of straw.

We went down into the deep bunker, and Staczek sealed the entrance with a heavy cover and disguised it. Without saying another word, he went back home. I felt that we were buried alive, and it was very difficult for me to breathe the suffocating air. There was no possibility of opening the cover alone from inside. I was surprised that Moshe did not pay attention to the lack of air to breathe… apparently, from experience and lack of choice; he had become accustomed to the situation.

Staczek brought us food twice a day. He brought a morning meal and 10:00 a.m. and an evening meal between 7:00 and 8:00 p.m. when it was dark outside. At those times, the cover over the bunker was opened for half an hour, a time to eat and go outside to relieve ourselves. We then immediately returned to our underworld and the cover was put down over our heads. Twice a day would perhaps be enough ventilation for one person, but for the two of us it was too suffocating to bear.

The first night in the bunker passed somehow for me, after I had not slept for several nights. Around 4:00 p.m. I began to feel sick from the terrible suffocation. I was afraid I would not be able to hold out until Staczek would come and remove the cover three or four hours later. I spasmodically swallowed air and it was a good thing that Staczek was not late in coming, otherwise I doubt I would have succeeded in staying alive.

Staczek revealed that Moshe's friends had arrived and wanted to see him. We went out of the bunker accompanied by Staczek and down into a potato cellar to see the guests.

Before us stood the six Plut brothers (the sons of Naftali, the son-in-law of Aharon Eliyahu, the blacksmith); Mordechai Moshe Blustein; Yaakov Seines; and the two Goldberg brothers (the sons of Yisraelke the blacksmith, my cousins). The oldest of the Goldberg brothers, Avrahamel, aged 30, was a carpenter by profession, and had experience in blacksmith work. He was a skilled worker and quick of movement. The day before the expulsion, he went to the village of Krzyzewo [Wypychy] with Moshe Lev (Rashke's son) and his family, among them Moshe Lev's wife's sister Beila, her father, Chaim Baruch Goldwasser, and their children.

Haim Baruch Goldosar and Family

As the possessor of many resources and money, Moshe Lev was full of hope that he would find shelter with his farmer friends and rescue his family from death. His hope was dashed when not even one of the residents would give a helping hand to people in trouble. Possibly they would have hidden him alone, but in spite of the large sums he was prepared to pay them to rescue his large family, his efforts did not succeed.

The family wandered for a few days in the forests and villages. It became clear that all of them fell into the hands of the German murderers during the first week after the expulsion. Moshe Lev himself succeeded in fleeing back to the forest and afterwards, he reached a Christian acquaintance who sheltered him. Moshe knew how to persevere under the most difficult situations and not to be at a loss. He always knew how to find a way out of distress. As long as he was with his large family, his hands were tied, but when he remained alone, he certainly would not be lost.

My cousin Avrahamel had been employed by the Amstkommissar before the expulsion. He and his brother Chaim Yudel had managed that evening to hide many of their possessions in pits before they escaped to the Idzki forests. They wandered from place to place and village to village in the forests with groups of fugitives. They came across gangs of Polish and Soviet robbers, who took their money and possessions. The robbers even stole the women's clothing and left them almost naked and barefoot. Among the victims who were robbed in this manner were: Chane Kashevitz, the son of Kaldze's Yisraelke, and Malla Ravches, Mendel Fleer's wife. During the Soviet occupation, Mendel had been sent to Siberia, and it was rumored in Sokoly that he was no longer alive. The poor ones who were robbed felt so degraded and depressed that they turned themselves over to the Germans, preferring death to living like pursued dogs.

The Goldberg brothers were miraculously rescued from the gangs. They assumed that Moshe Maik was with the Kalinowski family in Bruszewo, and they therefore walked in that direction. We must not forget that the Goldberg brothers were members of the organization that had sent Moshe to purchase weapons and that he had returned from his errand. The same thing with the six Plut brothers: all of them were young men, as strong as pine trees and all were members of the same organization. The two families of brothers, Goldberg and Plut, weren't together at the beginning, but they met each other on the way to Bruszewo in the area around Dworkie-Noski.

Moshe Maik had previously hinted to Staczek that his friends from the youth defense organization, who had given him 150 marks for the purpose of buying weapons, were likely to come looking for him. Moshe explained that these friends would come for the purpose of consultations, but to outsiders, Staczek would certainly deny that Moshe Maik was even there. Being forewarned by Moshe of their possible arrival, Staczek was willing to cooperate.

On Saturday night, November 7, 1942, the sixth day since the expulsion of the Jews from Sokoly, the members of the A.K. organization met with Moshe Maik. They told Moshe what had happened during those six days. They also gave him details about what had happened to Shmuelke Maik and repeated the already-known story about how Shmuel had walked past his house and the scandal with the neighbors. Shmuel had thought nothing bad would happen to him because he was a railroad worker in Lapy. He had confidence, bordering on indifference, that the Polish police and even the local Germans who were accustomed to frequently visit, would assist him.

It is unnecessary to add that Shmuelke's father, as a watchmaker and goldsmith, did a lot of craftwork for these goyim. It therefore was no surprise that he had confidence in all of them and in his Polish neighbors, with whom he had a good relationship. He thought that they would not harm him. However, there was a “good neighbor” who did not hesitate to hand him over to the gendarmes because of the disturbances he had made and thus Shmuelke fell into their murderous hands.

One of the Plut brothers told us that the Polish policeman, Kanofka the shoemaker, was the one who shot Baruch Shadlinsky who had tried to flee to the forest. Baruch was the pampered only son of the wealthy carpenter Hershel Shadlinsky and the grandson of the carpenter Elia Burak. Kanofka shot him when there were no Germans around, merely to satisfy his animal appetite to murder a Jew.

During that meeting it became clear that in the existing situation there was no possibility of organized underground activities. The Christians would not sell any weapons to Jews at this time and, in any case, the entire amount of money in our possession totaled only 250 marks. As long as the Jews remained in Sokoly it was easier to equip us with weapons, but now the Poles wouldn't sell us any since they were concerned that the bullets were likely to harm themselves. In summary, it was decided to find a temporary bunker where it would be possible to live during daylight hours and go out during the night to the villages in order to supply ourselves with food. We asked Staczek if he would agree to allow us to build a bunker in his forest for a reasonable sum. His answer was a suggestion that we hide among the haystacks in the field at the edge of the forest; but this was rejected because of the cold and rain.

Considering our situation and the autumnal weather conditions, Staczek promised that the next day he would search for an appropriate location in the forest for a bunker. Meanwhile, all of us slept at Staczek's farm. The Goldberg brothers entered the straw barn and disappeared among the haystacks, the Plut brothers and I remained all night in the potato cellar, and Staczek took Moshe Maik back to his own bunker.

The Pluts had bought several kg. of bread from Kalinowski and returned to join their own families. Before they left, they advised us to strengthen our bonds with the Goldbergs and build a large bunker for both families. But this idea was not immediately adopted since it was difficult to make even a simple decision since we were lacking knowledge of the basics of the matter. Meanwhile, the Pluts remained for one day in the forest near Bruszewo.

In another conversation with Staczek, Avrahamele Goldberg himself suggested that we build a bunker for four people, in other words, for the two Maiks and the two Goldbergs. According to Avrahamele's plan, the entrance to the bunker would be from one of the farm buildings, such as the sheep pen, the cowshed or the stable, so that footprints would not be left in the snow. We would do all the labor connected with the bunker ourselves without bothering Staczek.

In return for his consent, the brothers promised to give Staczek two expensive coats, two suits of clothing made of expensive fabric from the famous Beiletz factory, two excellent watches, and a wagon for two horses. Staczek wrinkled his forehead and closed his eyes, deep in thought. The suggestion perhaps was attractive to him, but he decided to consult his brother Palek and answer the next day.

The Plut brothers returned the next day to buy bread. They also suggested to Staczek that he give them permission to build a bunker for their family. Staczek immediately refused their suggestion because of the great danger involved. The presence of a lot of people would surely arouse the neighbors' suspicion and create a tragic situation. Not having another choice, they remained that night to sleep in the cellar. Staczek prevented my son Moshe from leaving his bunker to meet the men in the cellar.

The next day was Monday. The Pluts got up to leave at 4:00 a.m. and begged Avrahamele to go with them to build a large family bunker somewhere else. Goldberg refused, knowing that the danger was too great with such a large number of people.

When the Plut brothers had left, Staczek took me to my son's bunker. On the way, I tried to convince him to accept the Goldberg brothers, since the danger with two men or four was the same. It is true that the food supply would have to be double, but the payment he would receive would be several times greater. It was obvious that he was sorry that he had refused to give a positive answer until now, and he was worried that they might go somewhere else and he would lose all the expensive things that they had promised to give him as payment.

He removed the cover and I went down into the bunker. Towards evening, I again suffered from a lack of air. I breathed with difficulty and waited impatiently for Staczek to return. He did not come until 9:00 p.m. that night to remove the cover, but after he did that I began to feel a lot better.

Today the first snow has fallen and there is concern about the footprints leading to the bunker which would be made when Staczek brought us food. In light of the coming events, that would certainly involve danger. We left the bunker and entered the potato cellar where we would sleep that night. During the night, Staczek began planning a new shelter for us which would have an entrance from below the sheep pen. In the first stage, the area would be enough for two people and then widened for four whenever the Goldberg brothers joined us.

We ate the evening meal in the cellar. I remained there, and Staczek took Moshe with him to help him with the preparations for our new place. The digging of a bunker with a floor area of about four meters by four meters and a height of about one meter was finished at 3:00 a.m. The digging work was very difficult because the ground was hard and the soil was rocky, but it was already possible for two to lie down inside the bunker.

We brought in straw and spread it all over the bottom. On Tuesday, the ninth day after the expulsion, we were in our new bunker. As a cover, Staczek used a few boards, upon which he put some earth and sheep droppings from the pen. Our new “home” was a lot smaller than the previous one, but even so I did not suffer as much from suffocation and a lack of air to breathe, like I did in the bunker in the woods, possibly because of the thinner cover and the thinner layer of earth.

Now, Staczek was closer to us for supplying food and he would no longer have to sneak out, away from everyone's eyes, for a distance of several hundred meters. Inside the yard, no suspicion would be raised, and carrying the food was similar to the activity of feeding the cattle and sheep.

That same evening Staczek opened the cover to the hole above us. He informed us that the Goldbergs would be joining us and that we should have to dig that night to widen the bunker for four people. After the meal, we crawled outside and began again to dig. The ground was as hard as a rock. The soil removed from the spot had to be taken out, moved about 50 meters away, and poured into pits in a manner that would leave no traces. By 4:00 a.m. they succeeded in removing one cubic meter of earth. It was necessary to stop working because the farmers were getting up from their sleep and it was forbidden for Jews to be anywhere in sight. The next night we continued to dig harder, but we still hadn't completed the plan for the minimal space of 1.2 x 4 x 4 m.

It snowed again on Thursday and we were warned not to create any footprints when taking out dirt. Meanwhile, we had to stop digging and busied ourselves with interior arrangements. We fitted boards to the ceiling area and placed supports under them.

More work remained around the bunker. We had to move the opening to a safer location, because the opening into the sheep pen was likely to lead to our exposure in the event of a search. It was decided to locate a toilet above the upper hole so that nobody would imagine that there was a bunker there.

On Thursday, the thirteenth day after the expulsion, we began digging a new entrance to our bunker measuring 80 cm. wide and sufficiently long. The digging was done from the inside outward. Almost all the work was done from the inside. From above, no one could detect the painstaking work in a struggle for our lives. The entrance was ready by 3:00 a.m. Now what remained was to bring a dilapidated old toilet structure, which had previously stood in another place in the same yard, and erect it over the newly dug pit.

Avraham Goldberg, the carpenter, installed the toilet seat over the bunker hole exactly as it had been before. Staczek was not satisfied with this. Being very cautious, he thought that if somebody undesirable was likely to use the toilet, the board beneath it would move, and the secret hiding place would be exposed. Therefore, he ordered us to install a floor made of a single, rectangular piece that would be sized to the measurements of the structure and which would have no possibility of moving, and to attach two rings at the sides of the floor for easy to removal and replacement. In addition, the floor had to be covered with dirt so as to give it the appearance of the dirt outside.

Avrahamele did everything as requested. Shmeig (that is how Staczek pronounced the word “shneig,” meaning “snow,” and that is the nickname we gave him) took care that everything artificial would appear to be natural, so that even the Devil himself would not be able to discover the bunker and its entrance. Our excellent carpenter Avrahamel later installed a table and shelves on the wall of the sheep shed where the former entrance had been, for tools and personal items. All the work was done during the night, when it was possible to saw boards, move dirt, bring water, and relieve ourselves.

From 5:00 a.m. until 9:00 p.m. we lay in the dark bunker. The entire day seemed like a long night. We could only see the sunlight for a few minutes in the morning, during the moments when Shmeig took off the cover of the opening to bring us food. We had to be careful not to cough, not to snore, and to keep silent; nor to let any sound escape arousing suspicion that here are buried live creatures, Jews who are sentenced to death.

Ever so slowly, the days became colder and the weather turned freezing. Shmeig no longer allowed us to dig in the ground. Avrahamel with the golden hands was not accustomed to sitting and doing nothing. He always found something to do inside the bunker for the comfort of us all – something to install or something to improve.

During the empty nights without any work, the Goldberg brothers decided to try to get to Sokoly and retrieve a few of the possessions they had hidden in their house and left with their Christian acquaintances in order to be able to start paying Staczek what he deserved and as they had agreed, and also to buy food.

On Monday, November 16^th, the Goldbergs left the bunker after midnight and set out on foot towards Sokoly. They tried to convince my son Moshe to go with them, but I strongly objected that my only son would endanger his life by chancing to meet up with a German patrol or a Polish guard.

The Goldberg's round trip took three and a half hours. They brought back a feather pillow and cover, a blanket, a few clothes, shoes, and underwear. They swore that they did not even see a dog in the town.

The next night, Moshe went out with them. I could not hold him back any more. All of them came back at about 3:00 a.m., thank G-d. This time they brought the most necessary household utensils.

The third night I also accompanied them in order to bring away the furs and expensive items that I had hidden under the floor in my house. It was a dark night and a strong wind was blowing. We looked in all directions and listened for footsteps. We went in zigzags through fields and woods and avoided going past places where there were dogs.

At last we arrived at my house. Chaim Yudel stood guard and looked in all directions to make sure no one was coming. Avrahamel and Moshe opened the floor and took out the furs and the rest of the things.

I stood on a table and took out spoons, forks, knives, and wine cups – all of them silver and stored in a cloth bag– from a hidden hole in the stove chimney. There were signs of theft all over the house. The clothes closets, the sideboard, and the kitchen shelves were empty. Hundreds of books, certificates of all kinds, family pictures, and artwork that the robbers did not want, were strewn all over the floor. I took only the things I needed the most. I was afraid to light a candle. The windows were broken and the shutters were removed from their frames. I was worried that someone would see that Jews were inside the house. Moshe carried a sack full of clothes that he had taken out from under the floor. Avrahamel took a second, similar sack and we quickly left the house.

The new beit midrash and synagogue were visible from the priest's pasture behind my house. I saw a light in the windows. Later I learned that the Jews who had fled and were caught in the area around Sokoly were brought to the synagogue after having wandered around in suffering and hunger for two weeks. Gangs of Poles and Russians robbed a few of them, leaving them naked, barefoot and hungry. In their desparation the Jews handed themselves over to the Germans. Christian witnesses told of the crying and wailing of the Jews who had been sentenced to death. It broke the hearts of everyone passing by. Woe to the ears that hear such things!

The Goldberg brothers also entered their house, which was behind the bathhouse, to take some of their hidden possessions. My son Moshe went with them, while I stayed in a hidden corner behind a wall with the sacks.

Suddenly, I saw the shadows of five men. The fear of death seized me and I started to tremble. My heart beat faster. My companions in the Goldberg house also saw the five forms and hid themselves.

Fortunately, the shadows moved on and disappeared from sight. Apparently, they were Polish thieves who were stealing abandoned Jewish possessions. I breathed a sigh of relief. We grabbed our bundles and escaped with our lives. On the way, there was a storm that blew us in every direction, but the fear that had attacked us earlier pushed us to run as fast as we could. We arrived safely at our bunker at 3:00 a.m. while it was still dark outside.

After a break of one night, our young men decided without my knowledge to go to Sokoly again. They figured that as long as the gangs of robbers had not managed to empty all the abandoned and deserted Jewish homes, it was worthwhile to take out as much as possible for ourselves. We opened our hearts to Staczek to convince him to join our nighttime adventures.

Since we knew the Jewish homes in which many worthwhile things would be hidden, it was reasonable not to abandon the matter, and we planned to gradually bring the possessions out to share with our host.

Staczek agreed to join us and suggested to bring in two more friends in order to be able to carry out the plan in all its details. His friends brought two rifles, two pistols, and a few hand grenades. If we met up with Germans or the Polish police, they would be able to fight them successfully.

On November 19^th, at about 11:30 p.m., Staczek called our boys from the bunker to go with him to Sokoly. Three young men armed with weapons were with him.

All of them reached Sokoly without any problems or obstacles. They first entered the apartment of Shlomo Kravchevitz, the tailor. Two of the armed Poles stood guard in front of the house, and the rest of them went up to the attic. They found bundles packed in sacks and suitcases. The group carefully and quickly began taking the bundles downstairs. Staczek whispered to the Jews that on the way back to the bunker we should keep a distance from him and his two companions and leave part of the booty in a place he would point out, so that he would be able to gather it later without having to give a large portion to his two friends.

Our boys were faithful to Staczek in heart and soul, and they tried to fulfill all his wishes. While still up in the attic out of sight of his two friends, they gave Staczek a bundle of expensive fabrics (400 m.), products of the Vidzabeska Manufactura factory. He stuffed the fabrics into his sack. In another place they gave him a package of tablecloths and other expensive items without the knowledge of his Christian friends.

It was pitch dark outside. Staczek walked next to the Jews so as to hide his expensive booty from the eyes of his Christian partners. By the time we reached the village, he had hidden much of it. In Staczek's house, they started to divide the remainder of the goods. Staczek took a reasonable portion as the main instigator of the operation and as the representative of his Jews. His Christian friends also received decent portions in comparison to the three partners who were satisfied with relatively less.

The following night, Staczek no longer had his Christian friends joining the foray into Sokoly. He told them that he would not continue to endanger his life. However, returning home, he invited his brother Palek to join him, and together with the three Jews, they went again to Sokoly. The project succeeded this time as well, and our heroes brought back five additional sacks of clothing and various other items. Shmeig and his brother took half of the booty, and the three Jews together took the other half.

The five of them went out to Sokoly for the third time and again brought back bundles that were divided among them in the same proportion as the previous night. There still remained dishes, bowls, cups, mugs, pots and other kitchen utensils in Maik's house, but Staczek refused to continue the forays.

Among the possessions there were: a box of jewelry, gold and precious stones, a long gold chain, a necklace, pearl beads, gold hand watches, bracelets, earrings and gold rings set with diamonds. Staczek wanted to know how to divide the jewelry among all of them. The Jews answered: “For the present, all of it will remain in your hands…in the future, we will make an accounting and even it out among us…”.

From the three night-operations in Sokoly, Staczek accumulated expensive winter coats, magnificent furs, suits of clothing, shoes, boots, shirts, bedding, and much more, all valued at tens of thousands of marks. Within a week he had become a wealthy man.

The Goldberg brothers and Moshe Maik divided up the items they had brought from Sokoly and placed them in the bunker.

First, they wanted to pay their debt to Staczek for the bunker as they had promised him. It is true that at the outset he was willing to support Moshe Maik without payment since his friends in the A.K. organization had asked him to shelter Moshe and provide for all his needs at their expense. Moshe was regarded in the entire area as an excellent electronic technician and as such he was essential to the very existence of the organization. Nevertheless, Moshe promised to pay Staczek for sheltering him and his father by means of the clothing, underwear, and various other items that had been deposited with the Soviet doctor. At one point, Staczek had refused to accept Moshe's father.

When the Goldberg brothers joined the bunker and promised fair payment, Moshe also obligated himself to pay for support. Now the time had come to fulfill these promises almost completely. They gave Staczek four suits of clothing and four valuable hand watches, along with other items. The wagon was deposited with a Christian in Sokoly, and the minute that they would get it back from him, it would be given to Staczek without delay. So that he would not doubt their word, the Goldberg brothers paid him with other possessions as collateral.

Shmeig was very satisfied and announced, with celebration and pathos, that even if the war would continue for years, he would take care of all of us at his own expense without any further charges. Nevertheless, our boys decided to budget a fixed monthly payment to Staczek. They asked him to determine for himself how much the monthly payment for food should be. At the beginning, Staczek gave the impression that he was not asking, Heaven forbid, for any more than he had already received, and he had just promised them support “until the end” of the war. Our boys pleaded with him, explaining that they had paid him only for the bunker and that he deserved a separate payment for the food. For a few days he refused to accept their suggestion, but finally agreed and said that they themselves should determine how much to pay him.

They decided to pay him 400 marks per month. The boys asked Shmieg if this would be enough. To their surprise, he answered that he would be prepared to accept no less than 600 marks in products and not in cash, and according to the prices that were in force before the war. What happened here was similar to the incident between our father Avraham and Efron the Hittite: when Avraham wanted to purchase land from Efron the Hittite to bury his dead, Efron did not at first want to take any money from him, but in the end, he asked Avraham for “400 silver shekels in legal tender.”

The daily menu that was served to us by our benefactor Staczek during the first two months consisted of one kilo of black bread for the four of us, and – twice a day – hot cooked food generally of potatoes mixed with beets or cabbage and thin soups of barley and peas. A half kilo of meat was served us twice a week for the four of us.

I warned my boys a number of times that by trying to provide Shmeig with everything good for each piece of bread or sip of liquid, they were not doing us any favor. Rather, the opposite was the case. They were arousing his greedy appetite more and more. He saw milk cows before him, and in the end he would get everything out of them--the rope around their necks was prepared…. To my sorrow, they did not listen to me. In their eyes I was a stingy miser.

“He thinks we're at home and free men. He doesn't understand that we are buried and our lives are hanging in front of us.”

During those days, our boys begged Shmeig to try to buy pistols for them, promising to pay ten times the accepted price. Apparently, the Christian thought in his heart, “Who knows how much gold they still have in their possession if they can spend such fantastic amounts?”

Some time passed until the farmer Staczek decided on the price that should be set for his Jews because no matter how much he would tell them, perhaps he would be cheating himself? Therefore, in the beginning, he tried to get them to turn to his brother Palek. It wasn't nice that he himself “strip their skins” from them. If he would be stingy with the food he gave them and they complained, it would be possible to blame his brother. Palek did not want to set a price either, also being concerned that he would cheat himself, and so he answered that he trusted our honesty. Our boys gave him possessions worth 800 marks and accounted them as only 400 marks. Then the hesitator gained courage and determined the amount of 600 marks per month for support. He tried to make excuses for this amount by saying that these days it is easy to get all kinds of things from the houses of the Jews, which are then sold cheaply. Meanwhile, the possessions remained in our hands for further negotiations over the price.

With his farmer's sense, Shmeig understood that the Jews were not paying him such a high price for the food, but rather for keeping them in the bunker, because the food was scanty and was not worth any more than 50 marks per month. He was sorry that until now he hadn't put pressure on them to give him more and didn't know how to exploit them properly. He knew that other farmers knew how to exploit their Jews better than he did. It was said that Yankel Krushevsky had paid his farmer an entire kilogram of gold for keeping him for two weeks. Moshe Lev paid a farmer a gold watch in exchange for a loaf of bread. Elazar Rosenovitz (Lazerke Simoner) paid 100 marks for one day's stay in a cellar. From that day onward, Staczek visited us periodically, telling us about Jews who had enriched many farmers and haw he could also bring himself Jews like those who would cover him with gold and foreign currency.

Our menu grew worse every day. Some days the bread was missing altogether; it was used up because the work of grinding flour had stopped. The cooked food was watery and without oil or meat. Sometimes we didn't get the cooked food on the excuse that there were guests in the house and it was not possible to cook.

The boys explained to Staczek that old Maik was suffering from hunger. They did not have the nerve to tell him that they also were hungry. Staczek listened and answered with irony in his voice that there were a lot of Jews running around in the forests who were suffering from hunger and cold, and they would give praise to G-d if they could receive a slice of bread once a day and a roof over their heads. These stories were meant to silence us and make us understand how much we were obligated to be happy and grateful to him – to Staczek.

Upon hearing these things, our young men decided to try to sell some possessions in exchange for food. It was necessary to go to villages that we had not passed through and where they did not recognize us.

Avrahamel Goldberg had once worked for a farmer in the village of Jezewo (a distance of two kilometers from the bunker) named Lapinski. The Christian was a good acquaintance of his father's and used to give him blacksmithing jobs to do. Avrahamel figured that the man would want to buy a number of things, such as a horse blanket, a washing sink, a few dozen hand files, and a beautiful winter dress. At about 11:00 p.m., Moshe and Avrahamel went out to Jezewo. The night was very dark. Even on moonlit nights, the way was difficult, because it went through fields and pastures. In the dark, it was impossible for them to signal one another. This caused the boys to make more than a few mistakes, and several times they found themselves in the same place they had just left. Finally, they had to knock on the window of a house and ask for directions.

In my hiding place, I cried out of concern for the safety of my only son. To go the comparatively short distance of two kilometers should have taken one or two hours both ways, and, long hours had already passed without the boys returning. G-d knows what happened…. I preferred to be hungry for days and not to suffer pangs of discouraged expectation to hear the steps of my son coming back to me. Every minute in my eyes was an eternity.

To my great happiness, the two boys came back after five hours. They were tired and exhausted and their feet were soaking wet. They hadn't worn boots because they were worried that they would be robbed on the way. So instead, they wore worn-out shoes that squeezed their toes. They estimated that they had gone more than ten kilometers. They brought back one-half kilo of bread and two kilos of butter.

The boy had told Lapinski that they would come back to him again in three days. They ordered bread for a number of weeks, a significant amount of butter, and a liter of whiskey. In exchange, they were to bring galoshes and a pair of trousers. They begged Lapinski to get them a pistol, since he had connections with smugglers between Warsaw and Lublin. Of course, they promised that the farmer would be paid a good price. Lapinski also agreed that the boys would supply him occasionally with new merchandise to sell, at a low price so that he would be able to make a profit from the business, and in exchange the boys would receive food.

Moshe and Avrahamel visited Lapinski several times during the next few weeks. He always greeted them nicely. His wife wanted to bake them a cake and honor them with a cup of tea, but they thanked her and said they did not want to bother her in the middle of the night.

One day Lapinski told the boys that every time the dogs barked at night, his neighbors had sensed that Jews were visiting his home. They told him that they would wait in ambush for the Jews and hand them over to the Germans. In light of these threats, Lapinski advised the boys not to visit his house any more. He was prepared to return a lot of the things that he had taken from them up to now; he just did not want to endanger his life.

However, he did agree to meet the boys at a certain place in the forest after one week's time. The meeting was set for the following Monday, at 2:00 a.m. At the appointed time, the boys arrived at the place, but Lapinski was not to be seen. They waited two hours, but he did not show up. Since he had warned them before that they would be ambushed, they did not try to go to his house. Most of the possessions remained in Lapinski's hands, and they received nothing in exchange.

The food that had been brought until now from Lapinski, along with the portions from Shmeig, would somehow be enough for a few weeks. Therefore, the boys decided to rest and not go out at night. But Avrahamel did not know how to rest. He always needed to work off his abundant energy. From birth, he was accustomed to working hard, and he was unable to sit and do nothing. From the moment that he tasted going around at night, he was drawn to going again when the night would be moonless. Shmeig did not let him go to Sokoly in any event because it would have required weapons to go there, and, in any case, the weapons were in Shmeig's possession.

Staczek explained to the friends that the snow had completely covered the earth and every step would leave footprints. Besides, he said, it was not worthwhile to go to Sokoly, because the houses of the Jews were emptied of everything including the furniture. Shmeig himself had prepared to go to Sokoly to bring back the enameled kitchen utensils that might still be hidden in Maik's attic, but he would not go until after the winter snow melted.

Then Avrahamel suggested going a distance of six kilometers from the bunker to the village of Idzki. Some time ago, the Goldberg brothers had deposited some possessions with a farmer there named Wladek. I vigorously objected to the idea that my son Moshe would participate in the adventure of this dangerous trip. The two brothers went alone and brought back some of their possessions. Wladek's family had begun to use the clothing that they had deposited with them, assuming that the owners were no longer alive. They got one liter of oil and a loaf of bread from the farmer. Avrahamel asked Wladek to prepare a larger amount of bread, butter, kerosene, three flashlight batteries, and a table mirror for shaving. Avrahamel gave him 100 marks in advance.

After three days, I no longer had the strength to prevent my son Moshe from going with them. This time they took the two rifles and two hand grenades that belonged to the A.K. organization, which had been used by Shmeig and his two friends when they accompanied the Jews to Sokoly and afterwards had been left in the bunker.

I remained alone in the bunker. During these difficult hours, full of restlessness and fear, stuttering, I recited chapters from the Psalms that I remembered, such as: “Song of Ascents”; “I Lift My Eyes to the Mountains, from Where Will My Help Come?”; and the verses, “My G-d, My G-d, Why Have You Forsaken Me?”; “Why, G-d, Do You Stand at a Distance?”; “How Long, G-d, Will You Put Us in the Dark Forever?”; “David's Instruction When He Was in the Cave”; and other prayers that I prayed to G-d to watch over the lives of the boys, that they would succeed in their mission full of obstacles, and that they would return in peace. Amen!

After four and a half hours, I was again privileged to see them return. This time they brought a sack full of bread, weighing 35 kg. Wladek promised to supply the rest of the things they had ordered next time.

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