The Germans cordoned off the streets that ran parallel to the Tshizev Street, that is, the Jatkewa and Neben Gasse, which was to include Szliedziewsky’s and Dembrowsky’s factories, and the river should be a boundary line. The burgomaster of the city was August Kaufmann, the German, who lived diagonally opposite the cemetery. He confiscated Szliedziewsky’s wealth from Gedalia Tykoczinsky kz, and from Dembowsky – our yard along with the buildings. It looked like the deal was done, but something behind the scenes caused them to regret this and walk away from abandoning their businesses. For us Jews, this change was a matter of great significance. It meant that we would have more room for those who would be taken into the ghetto. Because of this change, things all of a sudden quieted down. And since the space on the two small streets was too crowded for the those Jews who remained, rumors spread that the town council had taken a decision to approach the Germans, and ask them to take away another couple of hundred Jews, asserting that the severe overcrowding in the ghetto would endanger the health of the Christian populace, which, by the way, would be separated from the ghetto by a barbed wire fence. In the meantime, they began to build a fence, and in the corner of the Bialystok road, near Kaufmann’s house, a tower was erected. It became clear, that this enclosed area had been designated to be a ghetto.

Two weeks and two days later, the Germans again ordered the Judenrat to call all of the Jews together on the marketplace, with the same warning, that they will shoot anyone on the spot, who failed to come. Everyone has to appear at the designated location on the marketplace. Everyone, except children. This notification from the Jewish police, engendered a new outbreak of panic, which was anticipated, because they no longer forcibly dragged people along. Whoever could hide themselves did so. I, the rest of my family and the little Yankeleh Kuropatwa, spent the night at our colony under the open sky. At seven o’clock in the morning, the peasants, who had come to the city, were intensely amazed, when they found us in the field. They brought us the tidings, that the Germans had, once again, led off many people, men and women. At ten in the morning, I was already at the yard on the Lomza Gasse. The Poles had come to see if any of the Jews remained, fully prepared to seize booty. And when they saw me and my brother Yankeleh, they said to me, in amazement: ‘You are still here?’

It was harvest time. And since we had just constructed a new barn, small-time peasants came to us, and asked if they could place their grain in a small corner of the barn. Their intent was premeditated:since they expected that I would be taken away, they would come to reclaim the grain they had stored with me, and who would be there to keep them from taking everything?

It was Thursday, September 4. Many people were missing at that time, and to give orders to others as to what they should do, was not possible. Everyone dealt in a way dictated by their own common sense. As we were later told, the Germans raised a hue and cry that they were short on Jews. We thought that the Germans needed Jews to do labor, and therefore, as a result, they would take only the able and young. Accordingly, everyone made an attempt to appear worn out and old. Women put kerchiefs on their heads. The intent of the Germans this time, however, was much worse than before.

They seized people randomly, young and old, even pregnant women. ‘They are taking us to the slaughter’ the terrifying thought stabbed in our minds. That morning, they were led off in the direction of Bialystok. And as we later found out, they were killed in a forest near Ruti Kasaki. May the Lord Avenge Their Blood.
 

At the end of September 1941, we were given no more than fifteen minutes of time to go out, that is, to leave our houses, the barns with grain, the machines, horses and cows – and return to the ghetto. My mother, myself and my brother Yankeleh, were taken in by the family of Yudl Eusman. Together, we were in a two-story house – the Eusman family, Alter Dwozhets and we three.

The Zambrów ghetto became a place of refuge for Jews from the surrounding towns. The ghetto was literally the center and gathering point for workers, that the Germans drew from there, for labor gangs to build and pave streets and roads. Our gang worked at breaking stones, and pouring asphalt.

All of the Jewish workers worked only for the Germans. there was a gang that worked in the Zambrów barracks, where the Germans had created a camp for Russian prisoners of war.

We lived in the ghetto under a despotic régime of self-governance. Glicksman, the ‘Chief Jew’ has a police staff under him, and ruled his kingdom with a high hand.

Near the river, in the ghetto, we had a hospital. The doctors were Dr. Grundland and Dr. Friedman.

The Head Nurse was Masha Slowik. Their dedication was without limit. But their reach was to limited to be of help.

Here, in praise, I wish to recall the lady, Elkeh Kaplan kz, a truly righteous woman, who collected kasha, grits, potatoes, and cooked up a bit of food for the abandoned orphan children.

In the meantime, a variety of news reached us, brought by refugees. They told of Treblinka near Malkin. The human mind could grasp, and then not grasp what this meant. However, we did grasp that we, too, were exposed to the danger of extermination.

We also received a variety of false reports. Regarding the people, who were led away on Tuesday,we were told that they were seen working on a road in Ostrow Mazowiecka. All of these reports came from gentile mouths, from Poles, that the Germans put up to this. There is a story about a letter from David Bronack, which a Pole named Klosak brought. This Pole had worked steadily for Yossl the Painter, and we knew him well. He demanded 150 marks for the letter from Rivka Bronack. She immediately came running to tell me the news, that the people are alive. We gave the Pole 150 marks, and he gave us the letter. He told us that David Bronack gave him the letter, and apart from this, we could not get another word out of him. In the letter the following was written: ‘We are alive and are working on the roads.’ Sadly, neither Rivka, nor her son Moshe, could recognize David’s handwriting, but because of the many errors that we found in the letter, we understood that this was a fabrication, a means to swindle us out of money.

During the time that I still was living outside the ghetto, Poles told us that they heard from other Poles, who had accompanied Jews along the way, that they were all shot in Glebocz near Szumowo, in an incompletely built Russian fortification, and in this same mass grave, many other Jews were also buried, who were from the area, until the substantial fort, intended for the Russian artillery, was filled up.

When life had already lost all semblance of order, all those who remained alive, gave away a large part of their furniture, bed linen, and clothing, to Poles that they knew. And on another day, it was already possible to see how displeased they were, to encounter someone from the family, who knew about these transferred valuables. There were also instances, where Poles immediately refused to return any item, that someone wanted to sell, in order to buy bread, and it became necessary to look for help from the Judenrat, meaning from the Germans, to reclaim those items from Polish hands.

The Jews of the ghetto were like a thorn in the eyes of our neighbors, the Poles. They would say: ‘See, the Jews have been settled in the ghetto, and its like nothing, they are alive. If it were us, we would have died of hunger within a month.’

We began hearing rumors about the liquidation of the ghetto in September. Beinusz Tykoczinsky and I, once when we went together outside the ghetto, ran into Beinusz’s good friend Szliedzesky, who, under the Russian régime, held the post of Chief of the Fire-fighters Brigade, with Beinusz as an assistant. Szliedzesky says to Beinusz: ‘It goes very badly for the ghetto. This morning, we were given an order to set up a guard over it.’ We already knew what this meant, because we had heard from refugees that the Germans always call out the fire-fighters when they are getting ready to liquidate a ghetto. We brought this frightening news into the ghetto, and a panic broke out immediately. Despite this, a couple of days went by, and nothing happened, and the tension subsided.

In those days, a group of comrades, who had left the ghetto, in order to join the partisans in the forests, came back home. This matter was kept in extreme secrecy, so that, God forbid, the news not pass to the Germans by way of an informer. One of the group was Yitzhak Prawda. The group went out of the ghetto well-dressed, shod, and provisioned with a sum of money. In the fields, they encountered remnants of the Russian army, mostly Ukrainians. The Russians and Ukrainians beat them, took away their money, stripped them naked, and barefoot, and drove them away in shame, back to the Germans.

Immediately rumors about the liquidation of the ghetto started up again. As previously already mentioned, the Jewish craftsmen worked exclusively for the Germans. Among them were tailors, shoemakers, furniture makers, and other sorts of trades. One day, the Germans appeared and demanded of the Judenrat that they gather up all work, whether finished or unfinished, that the Germans had ordered. The Judenrat police went out to carry out this order. For us, this was the signal, that the danger of liquidation’ was near. The ghetto residents, in resignation, and terrorized by fear of death, began to look for stratagems by which to save themselves. Whoever had gentile acquaintances, carried off whatever remnants of goods they had, to have them hidden, or to plead for mercy, that they should hide that individual himself. The work gangs marched into the ghetto.

We gathered at the Judenrat, and demanded that Glicksman tell the truth.

‘What do they want, the dirty Jews? The Germans took away these things in order to exchange them for other things.’

The Zambrów Jews, seasoned from their troubles, and knowing their ‘Senior Jew’ didn’t take him at his word. When nightfall came, everyone took for the barbed wire. The barbed wire was cut, and we fled underneath to the river, near Dembowski’s and Szliedzesky’s. Men, women, and older children ran, with packs on their backs, to the extent that they had the strength to carry. We fled to the nearest forest. I, and my mother and brother, at about ten o’clock at night, went off in the same direction. In the ghetto, the only ones left were older people, who surrendered to their fate, and children in cradles, that parents were unable to take along. In the late hours of the night, when Glicksman saw that he was left without Jews, he, and his entire coterie also fled and hid themselves, out of fear of the Germans. Those who arrived in the forest later, told that it had already become difficult to get out of the ghetto, because the Germans had surrounded it.

My mother, my brother and I, dragged ourselves to the Czeczork Forest. We sought out a hiding place between shrubs, and settled ourselves there. We hear people running nearby, hearing their heavy breathing and mumbling. The night was long, and didn’t want to end. Very early, we heard a great disturbance in the forest, the sound of a struggle. I crawled out of my ditch, and immediately see in front of me a cadre of Poles, in groups of five, six, or more, with staves and scythes in their hands, pushing the Jews, and striking out left and right. The Jews cry, begging for mercy from their beaters, pleading with them to take bribes, ha – money, gold – that is what they want though. Having gotten rid of one band, we immediately fall into the hands of a second band. With each band, little shkotzim ran along, from seven to ten years of age. They climbed under every shrub, making noise, whistling, shouting: ‘Żydy! Żydy! Żydy! I crawled back into my hiding place and sought counsel with my mother and brother, as to what we should do. I had just begun to get back into our ditch, and we have a small shaygetz near us, and he is shouting at the top of his lungs: ‘Żydy! Żydy! Żydy!’ He lets out a whistle, and the adults immediately came running. As soon as they saw us, they remained standing, and called out, ‘Oh, Jesus, the Golombecks!’ They covered the mouth of the little rat, and sat down next to us. As beaten down and broken as we were, we burst out in tears.

Who were these shkotzim? A person named Proszenski lived on our street. His sons worked for us as shepherds. In more recent times, one of them worked for August Kaufmann, the burgomaster of the city, and sitting on the ground with us, beside the shrub, he told us: in the city placards were hung about, which carried the notice that for the number of Jews that will be apprehended and brought to the gendarmerie, a reward of an amount of money and a bottle of whiskey will be given.

I was able to sense that they had already gotten the whiskey. The placard also warned that, whoever would hide a Jew, will be shot on the spot.

It was under these circumstances that the bandits from the city went into the forest – and after them, came the bands [sic: of predators] from the village.

They let us go free, and we proceeded further. After each bit of the journey, that we took, they confronted us. They robbed us, and took away whatever they could find that we had. There were those among them who did not allow themselves to be bought off. They did as follows: One of them, who was their representative, first robbed us, emptying what he could of the Jews, after which they began to beat and drive the people further. The seized a couple of tens of Jews this way, and drove them into a barn in Czeczork. There, others were waiting, who led the Jews into the city. At first, resistance was offered to them, struggling with the assailants. In the end, however, it was necessary to capitulate. We were too weak to defend ourselves against murderous enemies, who only wanted our deaths, in order that they could have all our assets, which would remain as booty for them to plunder. There was not a single Christian family that didn’t have one sort of Jewish valuable or another in their possession.

In this manner, the Poles rounded up hundreds of people that day. When the sun was getting ready to set, we also were apprehended, and driven into the barn, which we found to be full of captured Jews. They robbed us of our money, watches, good clothing and shoes. We gathered up money among ourselves, dollars, and shoved it into the hands of the leader of the Polish band from the city.

It was now clear to us, that they will enthusiastically lead us to be killed.

Night fell. Again, I sought counsel with my mother, as to what we should do. One of the members of the band told us, after he had received money from us: ‘Run!’ So my mother said: ‘Children, if you can save yourselves, run away from here! Let at least a memory of this family remain.’ The first one to run was my brother Yankeleh kz. And as soon as Yankeleh went off, my mother said to me: ‘Yitzhakl try to save yourself.’ It was difficult for me to get myself moving. I was suffering from a broken foot that I had gotten from an accident while working in Szumowo. Despite this, with the elastic bandage, which wound around my thigh down to my toes, with all of my strength, I undertook to flee with all of the others. In this way, I reached Bielicki’s garden. There, I hid myself in a field booth – and had a long bitter cry.

In the still of the night, yet another cry was carried in my direction, the crying voice of someone who thought they were talking to themselves:’ There no longer is a mother, there is no longer a brother, alone like a rock.’ I tear out of the booth, and I run to the fence. I call out: ‘Yankeleh!’ – but I didn’t see him any further. In the morning, my neighbors told me that Yankeleh stayed with them, and left in the night, and they do not know where he went. Later on, I was also told, that had he not left immediately, he would have been taken away with all of the others to the Zambrów barracks.

Glicksman, and his men, as I heard it told, presented themselves to the Germans, and he will be the ‘Senior Jew’ in the concentration camp.

The Poles did not permit any Jews to come into their homes. When they sold you a bit of bread, they demanded that you immediately go away.

In the garden of a peasant, I found a pit full of potatoes, which had a cover with a small door. That is where I made a place for myself to live. During the day, I wandered about the fields. At night, I went into the potato pit. I loitered about this way for two weeks, in the field and in the pit. With each passing day, I saw fewer and fewer Jews. The Poles told me that all are going into the barracks of their own free will, and they are given food there. the peasants provide potatoes for the camp.

Hearing that the people were alive, I decided to give myself up and go to see if I could help my mother. After fourteen days of living in a pit, I presented myself to the gendarmerie. I was led to the ghetto. That was the gathering point for all the apprehended Jews, and those who came of their own volition. The fire fighters escorted the captured as far as the barracks. I asked to be allowed to go into my home, to take a towel. I was permitted to do this, but not to take any more than fifteen minutes.

I could not negotiate the street in the ghetto, which was covered in mountains of pots, bottles, pieces of furniture, utensils, shoes, linen, clothing, pillows, books, copies of the Pentateuch, and volumes of the Talmud. Every home – was barricaded by loose goods, that had been extracted from the houses. I made a path for myself through this, to our house. The door was broken open, and everything from the drawers had been pulled out, thrown about on the floor, linens, clothing, shoes, – the furniture upended.

The Zambrów Jews, who had gone off to the fields, took practically nothing with them. They left everything behind, abandoned to be plundered. By contrast, the Jews from Lomza arrived in the camp with bedding, pots and utensils.

Up to then, the Poles had fulfilled their sacred mission – and then left. There is stalag number one, number two, and tower number 3. Thanks to God, I too, am now in Hell. People are running back and forth. Later, I found out that this was the day when the peasants had delivered a contingent of potatoes for the camp. But this is a story unto itself, as we see so later on.

I inquire about as to where Jews from Zambrów might be found. I am told, that block 3 will be designated for them, and those from Lomza will occupy block 1 and 2. Block 4 held Tshizeva, Wisoka and Umgebung. In block 5 – Jews gathered up from various places.

When I arrived at the block, I was surrounded on all sides. They began to tell me about the great extent of the hunger. As previously mentioned, those from Zambrów fled into the forest empty-handed; no protection for their skin, not a pot to cook in, and a pail in which to hold water was totally out of the question. In order to get water into the camp, it was necessary to let each other down, one over another, into a deep well. The people from Zambrów were eager to draw water, but they had no pail at hand – so, they are suffering this way for two weeks already, slavering for a drop of water.

I immediately began to inquire: ‘Who has seen my mother?’ I was led up to the second story. In the large chambers, with plank cots in three levels, lost in a forest of people, I found my mother.

This is the picture: The ‘residence’ was the middle one of the three levels of cots, running the length of the wall, cots banged together from boards and poles. Shrunken in there, sat my beloved mother.

Seeing me approach her, she gave her self a push, tearing herself to me, but then immediately falling back for lack of any strength. I jumped up onto the cot, and my first words were: ‘Mama, forgive me, for having left you alone.’ With tears in her eyes, my mother said to me: ‘ But I was the one who sent you away. Do you have any news of Yankeleh?’

In the meantime, my entire family gathered around us: my uncle Slowik’s two daughters, Chaya and Masha, my uncle Isaac with the children, Rivka Bronack with two daughters and a son, and a little daughter of my brother Moshe, aged 2 ½ years old. She was called Racheleh. I had brought a couple of loves of bread with me, and I divided this and in doing so, bought myself into both worlds.

My mother told me, that she is living this entire time on the ration of bread that she receives. She had not tasted so much as a single spoonful of soup. Once she ascended to her place on the bunk bed, she no longer stirred from there. And this was also the case with many other women. I sat myself on the bunk bed. When my mother regained some of her composure, she spoke further:

‘Since I figured that I had lost my children, and that I would not live much longer than another couple of days, I took my packet of jewelry, and threw it under the bunk bed. Since life has ended, and there are no children, what do I need it for?’ This packet held the legacy of generations – precious stones, golden chains, rings and small watches.

The lowest bunk bed was about ten centimeters from the ground. I went underneath, found a stick, and swept the packet out from underneath.

In the kitchen, they gave out a bit of soup and kasha. So I went down, and got a bit of soup, ‘vashka’ in the lingo of the camp, in the pot that I had brought with me.

A little later, I went down again, to see and hear what was going on downstairs. Again a running around, a movement, with shooting that came immediately after it. I barely am able to become aware of what had happened, that they are now first carrying dead out on stretchers.

I must say here, that the Jews from Lomza were far more bold than the ones from Zambrów. On that day, potatoes were brought into the camp, and the hungry, pity them, let themselves loose wildly at the fully-laden wagons, and began to grab potatoes. The soldiers at their posts opened fire, and about five or six people fell. Despite this, a number of wagons were emptied of their contents. People fell on the potatoes and began to gnaw them while they were still raw, as if they were good, sap-filled apples.

Everyone in the camp could not understand why I had come. There is no way back from here. A barbed wire fence – and then another fence. And such surveillance! Hemmed in, walled in, unable to penetrate through, and getting close to the barbed wire means a faster death from a bullet in the back. Death here is sown left and right.

The gentile permitted himself to deal. I entered my own home, and began to pack up some things with which to cover myself, grabbed a blanket, a bit of underwear, a couple of towels. More to the point, I wanted to take some pots, bowls, plates. And this was mostly to be retrieved from the street.

Also, I found small sacks of food, that the peasants felt was not worth taking away, lying in the street. I filled a wagon with pots and pans and utensils, with kasha flour, with everything that came to my hand. On top, over all of these things, I put wood that the gentile through out through the gate;

I went out, the way I came in – through the back way. I went into a bakery, and bought ten old loaves of bread, literally dried out, for which I was charged a high price. With everything loaded onto the wagon, I am now traveling with a great deal of merchandise. I had made up with the gentile, that at the gate, he should say that he was sent from the ghetto for the Jews, with me as the interpreter. And that is the way it was. I said that I was coming from the forest, and that the bread was for my family in the camp. With luck, I got through the first gate. And they then permit you to go on further, because they know that there is no way back. I ride over to the third block. I was greeted with great astonishment and tumult; from whence did I bring all of these things? Previously, I had not entrusted my great secret to anyone, so they would not know what I was thinking. I recall the elderly Chaimsohn falling upon by neck and beginning to kiss me.

When the wood was taken down from the wagon, and they saw the pots and pans and utensils, there ensued such a melee of grabbing, that if I had not grabbed a pot for myself, I would have been left with nothing. Also, all the sacks of food were taken up, but the people, afterwards, brought back part of it for me. On that day, I brought life back into that block, and one could now see people standing by the kitchen with plates and pots.

On that day, Donkland, a man from Zambrów, approached me, who had been a former police-lieutenant in the ghetto, and wearing an official armband in the camp, and he asked me, if I wanted to come and live with him in his room, designated for a couple of families, since it was within his discretion to pick whom he wants, and since I am a ‘sidekick’ he wants to include me in these couple of families. I was taken into this room with my mother. We got a corner, and in a couple of days time, my brother Yankeleh arrived in the camp.

They were a few tens of Jews near Sendzjawa in a barn on a field (also Chaim Kaufman was in this group). The Poles turned them in to the German gendarmerie. From that time on, Yankeleh was with me.

next stop: Borszczow, Ukraine►►