I don’t remember our way to Kaunas [about 100 kilometers]. I was on the floor of the cart and periodically dozed off, seeing my parents and brother alive. Though they still tried to lie to me, saying that I would see my mother in Kaunas, I was aware that she was not alive. I remember how we drove into the Kaunas ghetto. We got off by the gate of the ghetto, guarded by a sentry. Soon my Grandmother Chaya Riva and Leya rushed towards us. They were crying, embracing and kissing me. My kin took me with them and I never saw Mere and Raya again. I know that both of them perished in 1942 during one of the actions.
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Dobre Rozenbergene
Soon Aunt Mere and her husband Daniel came to us. Daniel was in hiding, so he wasn’t shot with the rest of the men. Since that time they never left me by myself. They took good care of me as if I was their own daughter. That way we lived through August and part of September. I wasn’t permitted to leave the house. I was as if in a stupor and mechanically did what I was told, like a doll. Somehow through her pals, Mere got in touch with her mother Braina, who was in the Kaunas ghetto. She said that Grandmother Chaya Riva and Father’s sister Leya were in the same ghetto and we had to get permission to stay in the Kaunas ghetto. Mere found the right people in the Judenrat [11], bribed someone and we got an official permit to go to the Kaunas ghetto. Mere hired a cab from the peasants with the last money she had. I got on the cart and we –Mere and her daughter Raya left for Kaunas. I didn’t care where I was going. Daniel stayed in Jurbarkas; he decided to keep an eye on the house and property. I never saw him again. In the words of other people, shortly after our departure he was executed together with the remaining men of the town.
On 3rd July the first action took place. Gestapo officers came to all Jewish houses to get all men who were capable of work. My father, mother’s brother Uncle Max and my brother, who had just turned 16, were taken. Father tried to comfort us, saying that men were taken to do some work and having finished it they would be back. He most likely believed what he was saying. All the men were shot in the town cemetery on that day. My sturdy and brave mother even smiled and said that we would see our father soon. We didn’t leave the house for three days. We didn’t starve, though. We had some product stock and my mother even managed to help our neighbors. She understood that her days were numbered. They even came to get her on 6th August. On that day all the wives of those executed on 3rd August were taken. Up until now I can’t recall how my mother managed to save me. Either she sheltered me in the neighbor’s place or something else. That day was obliterated from my memory.
I remember the registration of the Jewish population on the first occupation day. Every day orders were released, and they were getting worse and more preposterous. At first, Jews were banned from being outside during the curfew hour, which was two hours earlier for the Jewish population than for the others. Jews were banned from going in most of the stores, and the cards, given to the population, could be used only in two stores to get the food products. We were not permitted to walk on the pavement. Jews could be easily recognized not only by their peculiar appearance, but by yellow stars on their attire, which were mandatory as per order of the Fascists. It was one of the first orders, and those who disobeyed were to be executed. Mother had been sewing those bands with stars all night long.
At night on 22nd June 1941 we woke up from strong blasts. It seemed to us that the land was upturned. Jurbarkas was very close to the German border, so there was no time to procrastinate. Father horsed a cart, Mother took some precious things, money, documents and we hit the road. We didn’t manage to go far. We saw the Germans in about 10 kilometers from Jurbarkas. We had no place to go to, so we came back home. Further events of our life, having taken a sharp turn, are vague in my memories. I picture them as certain stills of an old worn film. The first reason for it is that my parents and brother were very protective, just not letting me out of the houses, and the second reason was the protective reaction of my young body, blocking the horrors from the memory.
In 1940 I went to a new school. It was our Yiddish lyceum, which was now called secondary school. The classes were taught by the same teachers in the Jewish language, so we felt no difference so far. Some lessons were in Russian. First, it was a little bit hard for me. My parents knew Russian very well and helped me a lot. Pioneer [9] and Komsomol organizations [10] appeared instead of the Zionist ones. I didn’t even think of joining them as our family was classified as rich and we had to get ready for the worst: exile to Siberia. There was no official information in this regard, but there were rumors that our family was on the deportation lists. I often think that it would have been better, if our family had been exiled: it might have saved my parents and brother. We were not exiled. Probably, we would have been, as many of our pals, less well-off than we were, had been exiled. Grandmother Elke took the changes very hard. She had heart trouble. She kept to bed and died a couple of weeks before the outbreak of the Great Patriotic War.
Soon our lives changed. The worst fears of my father were proven right. There was mass nationalization. Our shed was sequestrated and Father remained without his business. Good thing that my parents had stashed some lump sum of money, and the whole basement and our coop was full of food, so we weren’t so harshly affected by the changes. Uncle Max’s houses were taken away. My mother was wise to let her cousin Mere, her husband Daniel and their daughter Raya live in the second half of our house. She was the daughter of Grandmother’s sister Braina. She was much older than my mother. My mother asked for Mere’s advice regarding many things. Part of our house was given to Mere and Daniel, so the authorities had no claims on our property. At that time Grandmother lived with Fayvel’s family in Kaunas. In 1939 they sold their house and moved to Kaunas, where Grandmother Chaya Riva and uncle’s wife kept a small store. Grandmother’s store was nationalized but she wasn’t included on the deportation lists [8] as she was considered to be a petty entrepreneur.
We didn’t discuss the Soviet Union at home, but other Jewish families spoke of Russia all the time, saying the equality and fraternity of all peoples flourished there. Well-off people like my family were not seeking a better life. As they say the best is the enemy of the good. Though, my parents and brother, who was an independent grown-up, couldn’t help being worried about the events taking place in Fascist Germany. They understood that their small country would be finally either under the Fascists or under Communist Russia. That is why when the Soviet Army came in June 1940 my parents took it calmly. They didn’t want it, though they understood that they should better be part of Russia, than under the thumb of the Fascists. We didn’t go out like many Jurbarkas Jews, who welcomed the Red Army with flowers. However, on the day when the Red Army entered the town, there was a terrible fire and many houses burned down. There were rumors that it was done by the Germans, who were leaving for Germany.
I learnt about Jewish traditions and holidays at the talmud torah. Apart from celebrations, children were also told about the history and origin of the holidays. I took part in theatrical performances on holidays. When I was in my last year of school, I joined the Zionist youth organization Betar [7]. During our classes we were told about Palestine, learnt patriotic songs, got ready for rehearsals. I dreamt of Palestine as my Aunt Toybl left there in 1934. There was a plush farewell party, attended by all our relatives from Jurbarkas and Kaunas. Toybl wrote delightful letters from Palestine, telling about her life in the kibbutz, her participation in building her own state.
On Saturdays our whole family went out. My parents were dressed up. My brother and I walked around the town, greeting our acquaintances and relatives every minute, who also got out for a walk on Saturdays. Sometimes we drove to the outskirts. It was great. In 1939, when Grandmother Chaya Riva and one of her sons settled in Kaunas, we came to see her. Kaunas impressed me greatly with grandeur of well-dressed people and its size. It seemed so big to me.
During the first two years of school I wasn’t allowed to play in the yard with the girls. When I grew older, my mother gave me some money. My friends and I went for strolls in the park, located in the downtown area. It was a very scenic place. Sometimes we just sauntered there, arm in arm. At times we went to the cafes to eat ice-cream. Sometimes I went for walks with my brother. He was three years older than me. He treated me kindly, but still he wanted to get rid of his young sister when we went out. My brother also went to the talmud torah. He entered a Lithuanian lyceum afterwards. Isroel’s dream was to become a lawyer and Father understood that he had to be fluent in Lithuanian in order to pursue this dream.
When I turned five, my parents decided that I should get ready for school. A Jew called Fruma came to teach me. She had graduated from the Froebel Institute [6]. Fruma gathered a group of four-five people, took us for walks and taught us the rudiments of reading. Before going to school I knew how to read in Yiddish very well. Though, when I turned seven, I was sent to study in the Hebrew school talmud torah. The teaching was in Hebrew there. First it was hard to study Hebrew, but when I finished the first grade, I was good at it. All other subjects like Mathematics, Natural Science and Literature were also taught in Hebrew. I had friends at school – Jewish girls, daughters of middle-class merchants like my father – Rivka, Chaike, Toybele. We parted. I don’t know what happened to them during the war. I don’t know if any of them survived.
Father, clad in festive attire, reclined on the pillows at the head of the table on the first day of the holiday. We knew that he was hiding a piece of matzah, the afikoman, under the pillow. In spite of the fact that the rite was one and the same year in year out, we were enthusiastic about finding the afikoman and getting a present. My brother and I in turns asked my father the four traditional questions about the origin of the holiday. The foods described in the Haggadah were on the table, namely potato, egg, chicken bone with meat, bitter herbs etc. We started eating that after Father’s signal. There were masterpieces of my mother’s culinary art on the table – fish, chicken stew, pecha, tsimes and matzah dishes like cakes etc. When it was getting dark, Father opened the door for the prophet Eliagu [Elijah]. A goblet with wine was also placed on the table for him. I tried to keep awake to see him, but I always failed. In the morning I asked my mom if Eliagu had come and she always said that he had.
There was a joyful carnival on Purim. Later, when I went to the Jewish school, I also took part in it. We took shelakhmones to our relatives and neighbors. We also received gifts and compared who baked hamantashen the best. It seemed to me that my mother baked the tastiest. Right after Purim we started getting ready for the main Jewish holiday – Pesach. The house was impeccably clean, but still we scoured everything: windows, doors and the floor. The furniture and parquet were polished with wax. Tablecloths, curtains and drapes were changed. On the eve of the seder paschal dishes were taken out of the loft. That set was even more gorgeous than the one we used every day. I helped my mother take out the dishes, and admired them. I started feeling the holiday from that moment. In the evening my father banished the chametz: the remnants of leavened bread, which he burnt in the yard of our house. There was not a single bread crumb in the entire paschal period. We ate matzah and dishes cooked from it.
On Sukkot, Father set up a sukkah in the yard, covered with fir branches. There was a table in the sukkah, where Father had meals during the holiday. We didn’t enjoy having meals there, as falls were cold in Lithuania as a rule. The most important holiday in the fall was Simchat Torah. On that day all our kin came to ours, as my mother was the eldest daughter in her family. She laid a table for twenty people. It was a mirthful holiday. My brother and I watched a joyful procession carrying the Torah scroll from the synagogue and walking around the synagogue with it, dancing and singing. We didn’t take part in those processions. Like any other Jewish family we lit the chanukkiyah on Chanukkah. It was traditionally placed on the window-sill. All Jewish houses shimmered with light on dark December nights. There were a lot of potato dishes –fritters, tsimes and doughnuts with jam. My parents and grandmother gave us Chanukkah gelt. Though I had a daily allowance when I went to school, Chanukkah gelt was somewhat special, festive and eagerly anticipated.
The first holiday of the Jewish year, Rosh Hashanah, usually was celebrated quietly and ceremoniously in our close family circle. It was obligatory to have gefilte fish on the table. The head of the fish was always eaten by the head of the family – my father. There were a lot of desserts – apples, honey, oranges and tangerines – Father always bought the best for this holiday. I don’t remember any special rites on that holiday, but the next holiday, Yom Kippur, is associated in my memories with shofar sounds in the synagogue and the kapores rite. Mother gave me a hen, and brother was given a rooster. We took them to the shochet in the synagogue, who carried out that rite. My parents and grandmother fasted strictly on that day. Even we, the children, were given little food on that day just not to be starved. When the fast was over, in the evening, we had a rich feast.
On holidays the best things were taken out from the chests. On those days my mother also went to the synagogue – dressed to the nines, with her head covered with a lacy kerchief. My brother and I started feeling the holiday from the presents we got. There was not a single holiday, when we wouldn’t get new clothes, footwear and toys.
The kashrut was strictly observed in our family. Chicken and other fowl was taken to the shochet in the synagogue. Meat was bought in special kosher stores. There were separate dishes for meat and dairy products. All our dishes at home were very fancy: crystal, china and silverware. Everyday the food was served on a nicely laid table with a starched table cloth.
Jewish charity was developed in our town. Without any special agreement rich Jews like my father supported poor Jews in their vicinity. Every Saturday Father brought a poor lad from the yeshivah to join our festive dinner. We had a regular ‘customer’ – as my father joked – a poor guy called Elke, who lived nearby and raised two orphaned girls. He came to us twice a week: on Saturday and on Wednesday, had lunch and took a basket with food for his daughters. Usually Grandmother shoved a lita [Lithuanian currency] or two in Elke’s pocket. It was good money at that time.
That Lithuanian did all the chores on Saturday, which was a day of rest for the religious Jews. She took food from the stove, stoked the stove, turned the light on. My parents weren’t too religious. Neither my mother, nor my father covered their heads during the week, but they strictly observed all Jewish traditions. On Friday Father put a kippah and a dressy suit on to go to the synagogue. There was a thorough preparation for Sabbath at home. Mother and Grandmother didn’t let anybody cook. During the week we always had meat, poultry, and dessert as our family was well-off. For Saturday Mother baked challot and cooked some unusual dishes like gefilte fish, which took a lot of time to cook, and all kinds of tsimes: from potatoes, beans, carrots; imberlakh – a dessert made from carrot and ginger, chicken broth with kneydlakh, forshmak from herring, liver pate etc. A nice pot with chulent was in the center of the table. As usual it was kept in the neighboring bakery in the oven after the challot had been baked.
Our yard was big. There was a huge shed, where peasants – suppliers – put their grain. Usually Father and his assistant sat at the table by the shed and entered all his trading deals in a large logbook. Usually when the deal was closed common Lithuanian peasants came to our place, where Mother and Grandmother treated them to a lavish dinner. They often kept late hours, telling Mother about their families. At times they asked my mother for advice as they fully trusted her judgment. Mother asked villagers questions regarding our husbandry. We had a small kitchen-garden and an orchard, where my mother, grandmother and the housekeeper worked. Mother kept poultry – hens and turkeys – in a separate coop. We also had a cow and Grandmother made fresh butter and sour-cream herself. Our house had a nice forged fence. There was a small hut, where a Lithuanian woman – the guard – was on duty.
My parent’s big bedroom was next to the dining-room. There was a large carved bed in the center of the room with the tester. There were a small bed-room and a room, where my maternal grandmother Elke lived. My brother was independent since childhood. He occupied one of the rooms on the second floor. There was a large kitchen on the first floor with a stove. The stove was stoked with firewood. The stove was also used for cooking. On weekdays Mother and Grandmother didn’t even get close to the stove. The food was cooked by a housekeeper, a Jew. That old lady – I can’t recall her name – had worked for us before the Soviets came to power [5] and was very loyal to our family.
I remember my childhood well. We lived in a large two-storied house with two entrances. The left one was occupied by our family, and the right one was unoccupied at times. There were times when Mother leased the second half of the house. In the late 1930s her cousin moved in there. There were four large rooms on the first floor of the left wing of the house; a large dining room, called salon by my mother. Her friends came to see her on the weekend. They had coffee or tea with cakes, did some handicraft, having a chat about their children, families and the problems with upbringing. A large oval mahogany table was in the center of the room. It was covered with a velvet cloth. Velvet curtains matched the table cloth. There was a small coffee table in the corner by the fireplace. My mother usually had her afternoon coffee there. In the evening a fire was made in the fireplace. Arm-chairs with matching velvet upholstery were by that small table.
My father had already been a well-to-do merchant before getting married. The newly-weds moved into a new house, purchased for them. It wasn’t far from the place, where my parents spent their childhood and adolescence. Grandmother Chaya Riva lived in that place at that time. In 1925 mother gave birth to her first son. He was named after Grandfather Isroel. I was born on 23rd August 1928. I was called Doba in honor of my maternal grandfather David. At home I was tenderly called Dobele.
My mother, Brocha Figlyar, was born in 1904, like my father. They were peers, neighbors and had been affectionate with each other since childhood. Later their friendship turned into a deep love and my very young parents got married in 1924. Mother said that they had a very rich wedding. They went under a chuppah in the Jurbarkas synagogue. All my mother’s friends envied her posh wedding gown.
Mother’s brother Michl, who was almost my mother’s age lived in Kaunas. His wife’s name was Anna, his daughters were called Doba and Pesya. Doba and Pesya were my favorite friends. They often came to Jurbarkas to see Grandmother and us, and we also went to see them on Jewish holidays. Michl perished during one of the first actions in the Kaunas ghetto. Anna and her daughters were burnt alive when the ghetto was destroyed.
My mother’s third brother, who was a couple of years older than her, lived in Jurbarkas. His name was Max. Max had a wife named Rachil and two sons – Dovid, born in 1925, and Yankle, born in 1930. Max was a barber. His shop was in the heart of the city, but leasing houses was the most income-bearing for him. Max owned a couple of houses in Jurbarkas. The whole family – Max, his wife and sons were shot in Jurbarkas in 1942 during the occupation.
, Lithuania
Two of my mother’s elder brothers left for the USA when they were young. One of them was Iosif. I know some facts about him. Iosif got married in the USA, had a son, Mendel and a daughter, Doba. Iosif corresponded with my parents. He found me after the war and helped my family for some time. He was old by that time. We stopped writing to each other, as it was dangerous to keep in touch with relatives abroad in the Soviet times [4]. So I don’t know when Iosif died. I don’t know the name of my mother’s second brother. There was no trace of him.
I didn’t know my maternal grandfather, Dovid Figlyar, either. He died long before I was born. Dovid was about ten years older than Grandfather Isroel. He was also a merchant, but I don’t know what he sold. My maternal grandmother Elke was a rather modern woman. Her clothes were made by the best milliners and tailors of Jurbarkas. She even had her attire made in Kaunas. She remained like that after Grandfather’s death. I remember her like that as well. Grandmother Elke wasn’t as religious as Chaya Riva, but she tried to observe Jewish traditions. She covered her head only when she was going to the synagogue on holidays. Grandmother Elke died in 1941, a couple of weeks before the outbreak of the Great Patriotic War. She was buried in accordance with the Jewish traditions. I remember she was put on the floor, then carried on the boards through the town, and put in the grave.
, Lithuania
My father Motle was the eldest, so he helped his father the most. He inherited the business and also dealt in grain trading. Father got married very early, when he turned twenty. He had known my mother since childhood as she lived next door. Their wedding was without any shadchanim. I can say for sure that they married for love.