PRUZHANY YZKOR
BOOK
1958
Chapter 24
By
Shmariahu Elman
The deliberations before the annihilation
of the Pruzhany Ghetto,
November 1, 1942, 6AM.
The Ghetto is closed. Our time has come.
As soon as we turn around, we meet the cold and murderer faces of the German
guards around the Ghetto. The
atmosphere is strained, people was running up and down like poisoned rats, not knowing what to do, for
everyone could see his own end getting
closer, the Ghetto's end, but everyone wanted to live!
The youth groups were meeting at several
points, near the Ghetto's fences. Everyone wanted to save himself, but they're
out of strength and spirit. The Gestapo was going around in cabs by the Ghettos
streets, getting ready for the sad end. Thousands of dead who are still alive,
but who know every minute they could be killed, crawl by the streets and hope
for a miracle. Only a miracle could save the thousands of people that were
later annihilated through horrible suffering, just because their Jewish names.
The Gestapo Chief came to the Judenrat and
said before the Committee every Jew must be ready for the evacuation. This can
take place in one day or two weeks. One things is sure: the evacuation will
happen, and everyone must be ready. This statement makes the blood freeze on
the veins. Some youth groups have organized for resistance, but the Judenrat
committee begged to be calmed and wait so they may cancel the sanction. The
youth wait for the night. In this atmosphere, a day goes by. In the night, they
reinforce the guard. Around the Ghetto electric light has been installed. Every
minute spotlights surround the Ghetto's wall.
The groups meet near the fences, until the
rifles bullets break up the meeting people, leaving some dead and injured. Others,
resigned themselves not to be saved, withdraw. The frequent bullet explosions
are the witnesses to those who longed for escape.
November 2, 1942.
The same atmosphere. Seeing it's
impossible to escape from the Ghetto, they began to dig underground holes. It was like an epidemic. Young and old men,
everyone started to dig defense holes,
they collected food in the way everyone was able to, but we knew what our
destiny could be: to be discovered by the Germans, specialists in death.
Everyone thinks: maybe his destiny isn't to be discovered. Some try again the
chance to be able to escape, but they fall shot near the Ghetto's wall.
November 3, 1942
The delay in the evacuation make the
people be calmed, although they are
aware it's impossible to save oneself. Frequently Germans arrive in their
trucks, creating a nerves war. Many lose their mind. Social institutions get
calmed, it all goes to show the end is appointed...
November 4, 1942.
In
the Ghetto. From early in the morning, a crowd of Christians have gathered in
front of the Ghetto's wall, they wait the blood spread to begin, so they would
get the spoils. The Jew is thought as impure, but his goods are acceptable. The human feeling in the
Christian gathered there is something from the past. That's why their eyes are
sparkling like beasts in their run after the
spoils. Hearts exploit while seeing these beasts moving freely and a
people of such a beautiful traditions is wildly annihilated. That's the way
days pass, the half deads are exhausted, nerves are out of control, many commit
suicide.
November 13, 1942.
Ghetto. Early in the morning it's rumored
that the Jews of Blesk have been already moved. When I get home I get to know
my father hasn't been there for breakfast and our family is looking for him
everywhere. My mother was very worried and didn't find a comfortable place at
home. My brother and I don't have time for that "little things". We
make up our minds to give up our precious lives, but, as long as it was
possible, we wanted to survive so we could take revenge on those who spread our
blood.
Although it's impossible now to leave the
Ghetto, it was possible indeed to wait for the evacuation in the underground
shelters, and then... go to the forest. This was a stupid thing for my parents,
but we were working very deeply in order to achieve it.
At night, my sister turned up, crying and
running, and she asked: Are you here? We're looking for dad and we can't find
him.
My heart misses a beat and I think: he
hung himself! I rush outside like a gust; my father has been searched all
around excpet the granary. The granary was closed and only my father had the
key. Nobody thought about looking there. Only I did. I got in through the small
crack. It's dark inside. A ray of sun comes in through the crack, and it lights
a rope hanging from the roof: my father was hanging, his feet still moving. I
opened the door and cried: give me a knife! Everybody looked at me surprised. I
took the knife and returned to the granary, and then cut the rope.
I come home, carrying on my shoulder the
dead body of my warm and beloved father who ended his life for him not to see
the way his wife and children would be annihilated. My mother fainted. My
sisters and younger brother fell silent, they couldn't say a single word. The
responsibility of taking care of the fainted was on me. What an easyness my
father (blessed his memory) carried out his own execution with! All
premeditated in order to avoid being saved from the gallows pole, and he
achieved it! He was better than us now. His life was finished, while we were
still feeling the slaughter.
The burial took place the next day. Almost
the whole town accompanied him, and thought he was the happiest of them all.
November 15, 1942.
Evening. 14 days have passed, in darkness
and tension. 14 days of being exposed to die every minute. Then the relief
came. The Pruzhany Ghetto would stay in place until the springtime of the next
year. That's the way the killer nazis decided to do. This new cheered up the
living-dead. My father wasn't lucky to live for that new. I took the
responsibility of being the supplier and adviser of my ill-fated family, since
I was the oldest boy. It was clear to me everything was temporary, and our
final day would come anyway, because, were we different of other thousands of
towns and villages that were annihilated?
Many young men began to think about making
weapons and escape to the woods in order to join the partisans in their fight
against the bandits. >From November 15 to 22 we carried out the 7-days
traditional religious mourning.
(TN: January 28, 29, 30 and 31,
1943, the Ghetto of Pruzhany was evacuated, see Zalman Urievich`s chapter.
There aren't notes in this chapter about that period, which can be consulted on Urievitch's article).
Around June 1943:
The second group made two lines. It's
already midday. The commandant of the
second group, named MARIAK, told everyone of us to be ready for the night
departure. Those who feel sick, must say so. Lines break up and everyone takes
care of a task, for instance the guns cleaning and other needs. No one knows
what it's all about. We just know the confrontation with the enemy is arranged.
As soon as the sun goes down, we start our way. We were about 80 men. We
carried bags and hatchets.
We were heading to Pruzhany-Ruzshinoi
route. We walked fast but calmed because we had to cross over the border of
White Russia and Eastern Prussia. At night we reached the route.
We were split in groups and ordered to cut
the poles telephone, to pull the cables
and then meet at fixed place. We didn't linger, and all the poles telephone through 4 km. were turned
upside down on the route. The communication between both cities was
interrupted. The commandant told us we would stay there until the dawn, in order
to "welcome" the Germans that would surely come to fix the telephones
and telegraphs. The task was clear. We took position aside the route along 1/2
km. We had to wait 3 hours until dawn, and we all lay down to sleep, excepting
the guards.
The commandant asked to remain calmed, and
said we'd wait for the enemy once we woke up in the dawn. The night was over,
and as soon as the sun began to light, we were all alert waiting for the enemy.
About 9 AM two trucks appear in the distance, driven by Germans. We make the
last preparations, and we take our fight positions. The first truck moved
forward, and when it was 30 meters away, the commandant ordered: Fire!!
Disposed in two lines we open fire on the Germans, and the result is splendid:
the truck has been ste on fire, and only one man survived, disappearing on the
thistles with no hat nor guns.
The second truck stopped and they took
defense places on the other side of the route, starting a dense fire. The fight
reached its maximum point. The commandant ordered the right wing to attack, and
we threw ourselves at the enemy. The fight was hand-to-hand, they defended
strongly but we destroyed them very quickly. I hurled myself at a fat German,
which I hurt, I got on him, he had a gun on his hand and he was trying to hurt
me but he couldn't do it, because my "Finke" thrust on his greasy
neck.
There were some deceased and injured on
our side. The number is unknown for us. We had the following picture before us:
six German lying on the route, some alive which we exterminated later. Both
trucks burning. Some people take the German boots off, others take another
stuff, others collect the guns. I'm glad to have the fat German's gun I walk
calmed between the wounded Germans. One of them says to me in polish he's got a
wife and three children, but that don't soften my heart. A bullet on his head
makes him be silent. I am amazed about myself. I was unable to destroy a human
creature, and now I became a savage and I have no mercy for a human being. I
know the reason: these are not human, they are Germans worse than beasts, they
hurt my family members. I don't feel compassion for them. I feel satisfaction
when I see their blood spreading.
The fight is over. We divide into two
groups, one picks our deceased and injured up, and then we go back to the camp.
The other group which I belong to, had to undermine on the route and set the
wooden bridge on fire. Shortly afterwards, from Pruzhany reinforcements were
sent, in order to help the 35 german deceased. The first truck stumbled at a
mine and jumped over. The others blockaded our way and we couldn't pass to the
other side of the route, because it was watched by motorcycles. Three of our
men tried to cross over, they failed and died. We stayed 39, on the other side
of the route. Our situation was complicated. We spread all over a spacious
front, and we kept a constant and strong fire with all kind of guns.
We got to cross the route, and we lost two
more men there. When reaching the camp, we heard that, besides the five deceased,
we had lost other 7 and there were 4 wounded. Fortunately I found my brother in
the camp, who was unhurt on the fight. On his side a German pistol was hanging.
His commandant had fallen during the battle. The atmosphere at the camp was
depressing given the human loss of that day. Preparations were made for the
deceased burial. This task was carried out by the 3rd brigade, because our boys
were exhausted.
January 5th, 1944.
We left the village "Moskaly"
and we met at a farm. The situation was tense. The enemy had concentrated many
military forces on our districts. They were getting ready for war actions,
isolated, surprising and fast. We were alert. Each Chief of Partisan Commando
joined his men returning from some action. There wouldn't be sent any more
group for operatives. The guard positions were reinforced. The life went on
under normal bases. We made some food. The superior commando decided that, in
case of an attack from the enemy, we would throw ourselves to an open fight,
since we weren't out of war stuff. Ten men, including myself, were on the
defense points. Our duty was to patrol along the village Moskaly to the lake.
There was joy at our area. At night people would dance and play. I made up my
mind to dance too. This new attitude made my friends think about a situation
that would change their destiny soon.
April 22, 1944
A big number of Germans has arrived in
"Korilivich" and "Malkovich". The same happened in
"Krupitzky". We were hoping one of these days the blockade would
begin. In the camp, all the food stuff from the stores was put underground.
There was serenity in general. The newcomer partisans were afraid to die, and
we promised they would get used in time. Our life was going on normally. The
patrol would search the area, and many times spies infiltrated, unfortunately
we weren't able to hurt them, we could only report them to the superior
commando.
I often take a bath on the pond, because
the "pritzn" began to show again (that's the way we call the louse)
They are worse than Germans. We were amazed ourselves to see the way they
appeared again. The situation we were living was to blame. In the evening a
German plane used to fly over our area.
April 23, 1944.
The Nieman river were also blockade. Many
Cossacks turned up in the villages. Our positions at the eastern area were
reinforced. We dug trenches in the "Krupnitzky" area since the enemy
could attack from that side. The peasants were nervous and aggressive. They
were moving all their belongings to the forest too. Each man takes his position
for defense. Borders are demarcated. The enemy lies in wait for us all around.
April 24, 1944.
While we were sleeping, the guard came to
wake us up, because artillery and mines din were coming from Sokoly, on the
Niema. This was a tactic of the enemy before the attack. We deduced they could
attack from the Nieman side. There was calm among us. The gunshots continued,
and it was getting stronger. The air was wrapped in shadows because of the
explosions. Little by little we began to hear the partisan gunshots. That meant
they went to face the enemy. Many of the boats they were sailing sank with its
men, others went back leaving dead and drowned men. At midday the calm
returned.
April 29, 1944.
May 1st is getting closer. We made the
last preparations for the celebration. It was a lunch with alcoholic drinks for
every partisan. After breakfast I was sent with 6 men to collect firewood for
the kitchen, for 2 days, while the celebration would last. When we returned at
lunch time, we were ordered to keep guard near the lake, because the enemy may
unexpectedly attack on May 1st. That new annoyed us pretty much for we wouldn't
be able to be at the May1st celebrations. But, patience, we had to do our duty,
each one of us picked his belongings and got ready to walk. At night, we
reached the village Moskaly beside the lake and we took the guard. There we
knew there was loads of meat and we decided to change meat for alcoholic
drinks, for the celebration.
May 1st, 1944.
From early, drunks began to turn up in
Moskaly. Our brigade's commandant scolded us and warned the enemy could attack
any moment, so we should be ready, and only at night we would get our alcohol
portion.
Two artillery pieces were placed in the
bunkers, and we received instructions on how to fire against the enemy. One of
the previous nights, we were supplied war stuff from planes, so we had enough.
The movements over the lake were controlled, so spies wouldn't be able to
infiltrate in our area. The boats had no quarter because many groups were
returning from a mission, and they hurried to reach the camp and be part of the
May 1st celebrations.
The day passed peacefully excepting some
drunk partisans who killed a peasant. At night we celebrated with a dinner, a
musician was brought and youth danced.
May 2, 1944.
The day was peaceful. Each one of us had
to take a guard of four hours night and four day. On the free time, I read a
book I had found by chance. I tried to avoid talking to the village peasants,
because they were anti-Semitic. They were witnesses of the atrocities committed
by the nazis against Jews. I used to rage and shame when people talked about
Jews, for they say the youth let be taken to death like lambs. This tortures
me.
May 3, 1944
In
general, there was peace. We live quite well in Moskaly. In the countryside we
don't feel as free as here, because there's much more space there, but we have
to be always in guard. The movement on the lake doesn't stop. Several groups
are sent in order to carry out duties and they return having achieved it. The
duty was to bring some food. In one word, Moskaly is a station with a partisan
port, by the lake's bank. To make a toast, we're not out of drink, but the
important thing is the exchange. Each peasant had his little wine factory, and
that was his support. We had to pay a lot for one bottle, but we partisans
don't care. Today we live, tomorrow who knows. That's why we don't trade; we
just wanted the alcohol bottle. More than once the Germans got in and they
wanted to take revenge on people. They thought people was helping the
partisans, but they couldn't do so because they were repelled and many drowned
in the lake, patrolled and controlled day and night.
Each chief had his port and village, which
they considered his capitol city. In case of enemy attack, they left the
bunkers, received the enemy with fire, and they pushed them back leaving many
victims. In order to infiltrate into the partisan area, the enemy had to join
many forces and this wasn't always helpful. The Moskaly and other villages
inhabitants used to see the Germans once a year when these made raid against
the partisans. They turned up with ten men and when the war stuff began to be
scarce, they left the area and went to other places. The partisans didn't have
problems about the war stuff and we could face an open fight with the enemy,
and vanquish. The war stuff and weapons with new systems were thrown from
planes in parachutes.
Every night, the youth of Moscaly meet at
a big house to dance and play. The we would forget about the hard moments we
were passing through, and we left ourselves to be taken away. I don't take part
of those parties, even if I have free time, because my heart is grieving for my
beloved people, for they hadn't the same destiny than those who are dancing. To
my mind comes my brother, whom I said goodbye during the fight against the
Germans. Is he still alive? Or maybe he fell on the battle? I don't know, and
he doesn't know about me. We're joined through a feeling of revenge. My home
city comes up too, the desertion of my dear mother and sister in such a
terrible moment for them, when they were on the nazi killer's hand, that
annihilated them in the most chilling way. The view of my father hanging, who
ended his life for him not to see the damage done to his beloved people. All
this makes me forget the shortage I had to pass during the fight against the
enemy, and I demand myself revenge! Revenge! For the innocent blood spread, for
all I can take revenge for, before so much harm and horror.
May 4, 1944.
Calm days. I'm not used to a life like
this. The day is too long for me. On the spare time I amuse myself thinking on
my partisan life, which is a calmed life after all. We had good food and we do
nothing, only 8 hours of guard and the remaining time passes very slowly. The
Christian friends feel good, and they try to have a good time. They want to
pull me with them, but who can dance when the body doesn't want to! The peasant
woman, she's very kind since I'm staying at her house. She goes all around me
and doesn't know what to do for me. I know why is that. She saw what they did
to other who, like me, have a Jewish name, and she feels compassion. She
frequently tells me she had some Jewish friends, which she got along with, many
youth like me that couldn't be saved. I never have an answer for her; I finally
leave the house. There were few Christians like this and I'm happy to have been
with them. Her family was made of a man, a son and a daughter around 18 or 20
years old.
May 5, 1944.
The sentry wakes us up. We can hear the
sound of gunshots and mine explosions on the other side of the lake. We send
one of our men to the camp to transmit the news. People are getting ready to
have breakfast, because the house's owner and her family have escaped to the
woods for fear. We got into the trenchs and we wait to receive the enemy. They
don't turn up. In the distance we can see flames and smoke. This is a sign of
the enemy setting the village on fire. All the peasants have got away to the
near wood. The enemy has come. They're not many, 300 men is not big deal for
us. Our commandant has moved a few kilometers on the right side of the village
"PEHSTZANKA", just behind the enemy. We receive an order to fire to
make the enemy withdraw. The Germans did their work. They set the village on
fire and later left a rearguard. The others withdrew. After one hour truce,
they are suddenly attacked by the partisans with a fire hurricane of all sort
of guns. Seeing they cannot defend themselves, they get away in panic, leaving
their shells and the spoils, and a bunch of deceased and injured behind. We
take the shell, and we take all the German clothes off, taking their clothing
and guns. We return having not lost one single man.
The peasants recovered their goods, but
they had no housing, now they're the forest citizens. Little by little the
peasants of Moskaly come back much more calmed to their houses in the
wood. At night the youth have fun
again.
May 6, 1944.
Calmed days again. Lately we're inactive;
returning to the camp makes us nervous. The landlady tells us she's out of
potatoes and she had nothing else to cook. The girl gets ready to do a
"bombiaske" (assault to a peasant in order to get stuff). I stay the
night on guard, and the others leave.
May 7, 1944.
It's hard to stay all night long on guard
duty. The fellows came back and they brought alcoholic drinks, but "this
won't keep me warm". I sleep all day long, and I have to be on guard again
by dawn.
May 8, 1944.
The group "Politrok", that was on
guard behind Slonim, comes back. They have accomplished their duty. They
exploded six wagons with war stuff. They bring alcohol and give us five liters.
They had told us the enemy is concentrated behind Slonim, probably to fight
against the partisans. We don't care about it, because we get some drink while
we wait for the enemy.
May 9, 1944.
As soon as we finish breakfast, the group
"Politrok" say they will take the guard and we return to the camp.
We're happy about it, because we still have to face a hard task. We wait til
midday, and at night we go back to the camp. We get ready and receive the
following order: KASHIN will be the next commandant of the group. The group
direction was unknown, we prepare two mines 15 kg each.
May 10, 1944.
Just after breakfast, five of our men are
called to receive instructions about how to operate. We're sick of hearing
always the same: pay attention, drive carefully. We're annoyed and we don't pay
attention at all. We say goodbye to the other members and get ready to leave.
We're heading to the lake.
When we walk the first kilometers, our
shoulders feel the heavy load of the war stuff. On the last weeks we lost the
habit of taking so much load. We walk til the dusk through the area controlled
by partisans, and we're heading to Slonim. At night, we lie down in DUBOWKA and
we have breakfast at 7 AM.
May 11, 1944.
Just after breakfast we start walking. We
have a march of 24 hours ahead. The march is very exhausting for us because we
have rested so much at Moskaly. In the evening we leave the partisans area and
we go unnoticed through the German area. We try to ignore them. We receive the
order not to fight against them in order to avoid human loss. We would
accomplished our duty and we'd be back on May 20.
We rest every 3 km. because we take so
much load. Rain begins to fall. Rain falls all night long, and we're soaked.
The night is dark. We can't see each other and we often have to touch the way
with our hands. It's raining harder and harder and we don't have where to camp.
If Hitler had to suffer a hundredth part of we do, that would be enough for
him. We envy the dogs that have their burrow where they can rest. There's no
burrow for us to be in peace. Exhausted to death, soaked and tired we arrive in
the wood behind Slonim at dawn. The rain doesn't stop. We light a fire to dry
our clothes a little, we lie down very tight in order to warm each other up.
It's raining cats and dogs but we don't care and we fall asleep at once. We
wake up at noon. The rain stopped and now we can think about drying ourselves.
Each one makes use of his dry food, since we begin to feel hungry. The next
night we decided to rest, because we were extremely tired and we slept to
death.
The author was born in 1919 in Pruzhany. His parents were BINIOMIN and
TZIREL KAPLAN. He studied five years at the Tarbut school. Place of residence:
Lodz, Magistrata St., 12-