| Len's cousin
The war starts II
But then, when the war broke out, we were again the first victims, because everybody was still being home, or everybody didn't even know there was a war on, we were evicted from our homes right in the beginning of the war. And we were told to go across the border to Russia. In other words, we became homeless right, you see... My wife, they still lived for two years at home. For they didn't know about the war. The Russians came in, but they still lived peacefully. While we, for two years, we already did in Siberia.
So, we were really, from the first, victims of the war. But what happened was, we came, like, we ran away from home the first day of the war, of course, but the Germans took us over, and they forced us to go back home. We came back home, it was Erev Yom Kippur. It was in the fall that the war started, the first of September, so it was the time of the year, the High Holidays, and Erev Yom Kippur, of course, the shul was already closed. We couldn't go in and make use of the shul, because as soon as they came in, they made a stable out of the shul, a horse stable, out of the big synagogue, and we made a little minyan in a private home.
And, around 10 or 11 o'clock, I remember just as now, the Gestapo came, that's the German.. you know, police, you know, the Gestapo came and told the people we have to elect a Jewish Committee, which they called a Judenrat. We have to elect a committee, and the Gestapo quarters wants to see them, after we elect the committee.
Of course, we elected 3-4 people. Not all of them were back home, anyway. A lot of them were still away, but we elected a committee, and they went to the Gestapo. And they put in a contribution, you know, that we have to pay so much money for the German army. The exerted a certain amount of manamet[word unclear], but I don't remember. You see, I was only 17 years old, and manamet didn't matter to me in those days. But I know this: that [they] extorted a contribution.
And of course, people come together -- and you had to have it, that's all there was to it. And they gathered the money that they asked for, and they went and paid it. And as soon as they paid them the money, they told them that in 4 days, which is Erev Sukkot... The Germans had a tendency always to do on Jewish holidays. All raids, all selections, a lot of killings. They always managed to do it on a holiday, you know. They felt more satisfaction. On a Jewish holiday, you know. So, since it was Erev Sukkot, so they gave us an order that Erev Sukkot, like, not a Jew is supposed to be left in the city. Anybody who would be left would be shot. They had all to leave town.
Fine. Of course, a lot of people didn't believe the Germans. We thought that it will come -- it was Wednesday, Erev Sukkot. The first Yom Kippur was Shabbos, I remember that. So Wednesday morning, we thought we'd wait till Wednesday morning, but a lot of people said they'll go on their own, because they were afraid that the Germans will gather us together, and they will kill us. So, they went away.
But the fact was, the people who went away on their own, really, didn't fare any good, because they were robbed on the road, and they were beaten. Some of them were killed -- by the Poles. You know?
But we waited. And we said "Whatever will be will be." Because once you lose your home, so you're almost half dead anyway. You take people who lived for 800 years in a country, and all of a sudden you tell them there is no place for him anymore. And the neighbors are just waiting to rob you and loot you. Here you are half dead anyway, so you don't worry about it. And my father was a cold fellow, like, you know. He really didn't get excited. And he said, "We'll wait. We'll see what happens."
We had a neighbor, a Pole. And my father went in to him and said, "Look, we live all our lives together. Our parents lived together. We know each other. We never had an argument. We always were peaceful neighbors. We are forced to leave home. I'll take all my furniture, the hard [sic] furniture, and I'll take [it] in to your house. If, God willing, we will survive the war, we'll come back and we'll get it. And if Chas v'cholila not, we don't need it anyway. A neighbor might as well have it. Otherwise, somebody else will come and rob it anyway"
So, he said "Fine." And he was very touched by it, really, the old fellow. And he said, "You know what? I'll tell my son, Wednesday morning, and he'll take a couple of horses and put in the wagon, and he'll take you to your destination." We had to go 40 kilometers from town, because that was supposed to be the Russian-German border. And so it was. Wednesday morning we loaded up. As a matter of fact, we even took a bed with us. We had a big.. We didn't where we are going, what we are going, but we thought, "We have to leave it anyway." So we took a lot of things.
We came to town where we were supposed to go into, and there was a bridge, which the Germans bombed. And the bridge was sort of... it wasn't really destroyed, but it was caved in in a couple of places. In other words, with a wagon you still could go by it. So, it was passable. The German sentry, he was standing by the bridge, told to all the people who had wagons... You see, because the Germans provided wagons for us, actually. They brought farmers. We had because the neighbor. But they brought wagons anyway. And that sentry told to the Polish drivers, "Look, fellows, [if] you want to go across, that's fine with me. But you won't come back, because once you go across, you are in Russia."
You see, the bridge was supposed to be the border. But it was still in German hands, actually. But he told them you could go across, but you can't come back. Nu, when these Poles heard that they can't come back, they aren't going to take you across. You can't blame them for it. And they took us and threw off all our stuff. You know how a river goes, with a slope, and they threw us off right near the river, off to the highway [sic]. And instead of going, all of a sudden, every one of them had sacks prepared, and they started to rob us. And they robbed us of our possessions, mostly sub [?] goods, you know. Whatever they could, they packed into the sacks and they ran away.
And here you see people, you know, in desperation, people were crying, people were fainting. They didn't know what to do with themselves. You were driven out of your home, and all of a sudden whatever you took with, they robbed you again. There is no place to go. Just to go to the river, that was left. And some of them said they are not going anywhere. If they are supposed to die, they might as well die here. They are not going. They gave up.
I remember, just as now, a Jewish girl, her father was a butcher in town, and she said, "I don't care for my stuff. I don't care what you guys say. I'm going across and see what happens." She went across. She went straight into the German kommandantur, into the headquarters of the German army. And went in. And I don't know how she got in to the fellow in charge there, but she managed to get in, and told them what happened. She told them that the town people from our home town were driven out of town, they were supposed to take us across the river, and the sentries didn't let them, and they robbed us on the top of it, and they went home.
And that officer came out on a motorcycle by himself, and we all heard him scolding the sentry. "Who gave you permission to tell the Poles not to take us [sic] across the border?" Because the other town was really in German hands yet, so it was still German territory. And, anyway, he really was scolding them and yelling at them, and he went and brought a squad of motorcycles, army soldiers, Germans, with motorcycles, and they went with the motorcycles... they were going by horse, you know-- and it took about an hour, an hour and a half, and they brought all the wagons back, and made them give up all the stuff, back, that they robbed us. And told them to load it up, and take us across the border, and [several words inaudible] and then they'll go back.
Len: That's a miracle!
M: That's a miracle. But what I'm trying to tell you, the boy came back, my next door neighbor, who drove us, you know, he came back and he started to load up again, and give us back the stuff that he robbed us. And I went to school with the guy. He used to come every Friday night to our home. I used to give him a piece of fish, with a piece of challah. He used to love it. I used to go to his mother, and she used to give me food. She used to promise me that she won't tell my parents that I ate in her house, because it wasn't kosher. So, she used to promise me, "Morris, don't worry, your mother or father won't know about it." So I used to eat at their house. I used to love their food, you know. And the boy used to come...
We were really friends. We used to come, in the small towns, we had to go fire watch. So every two houses, every night, they used to assign two houses, and they used to walk around at night, just in case a fire breaks out, because it was all.. because the fire brigade was all volunteers. And we didn't have money to pay somebody for the job, so.. So, I used to go with him every time, whole nights, you know. We were chums, good friends.
And I asked him, Vatsik was his name, and I said "Vatsik, I don't know what happened. I understand you didn't want to take us across the border when the sentry told you that you can't come back. This I could understand. But how in the world did you know to have sacks ready for the loot, to rob us? Was it prepared, was it premeditated? Did somebody tell yo about it? Did you know ahead of time?"
You know, he got red in his face, like a beet, like a red beet, and he wouldn't answer. He wouldn't talk to me. So that was our first experience of our good neighbors. And on the end was that this town remained by the Germans anyway.
L: What do you mean?
M: The town across, where they took us, it was supposed to be Russia there. That's why they sent us there. But it remained German, anyway, and we had to flee again from there to another town, to Lomza, as a matter of fact, we went from that town. But the town remained with the Germans, anyway, because the communication line, the main railway line between Koenigsburg, which is he capital city of East Prussia, and Warsaw, went through this town, 5 km off this town, and the Germans needed a line. So the Russian commission came one day, and sort of agreed over dead [?] bodies, the Germans and the Russians, you know, the Hitler-Stalin pact. So they sort of decided that Ostroleka, the city, will remain with the Germans, and they gave them another piece of land there.
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