Selected text
On the radio I heard the voice of Olga Berggolts: ‘Hold on a bit longer, just a little…’ [Olga Berggolts was a poetess, who wrote her patriotic poems in the besieged Leningrad].
But my destiny carried me along another way. Two days later I heard a knock at the outer wall (the doorbell did not function). A short soldier (a Jew) came in carrying a huge package in his hands. I immediately understood that someone had lent me a helping hand.
The soldier said that he had a parcel from my brother Haim (from the Leningrad front) for his sister Nina. The soldier had served with Haim. They were anti-aircraft gunners at the famous Road of Life [14]. There they were fed well, and had some extra food at their disposal.
The soldier refused to give me the parcel since Nina was absent. In the accompanying letter my brother said that he had sent us parcels several times before, but they did not reach the addressee. The first time messenger fairly confessed that he had kept the parcel for his family when he found his wife dying and his relatives suffering of starvation. The second time the messenger told Haim that he did not find us because we had died. For the third parcel, Haim permitted the messenger to keep it if he found us to be dead. So that third messenger was in front of me.
I explained him that Nina and I were brother and sister, she had left, and Haim was my brother. I showed him our photograph and my passport (I got it in June 1941). But the soldier remained unmoved by all of this information: he wanted to see Nina. I cried and begged to give food to me because I was dying of starvation. He thought it over, had compassion on me, and gave me the parcel, but only when I wrote a letter to Haim confirming the receipt of the food. Our apartment was communal [15]. If my hungry neighbors had seen my food, I think they would have taken it away from me, probably killed me, and eaten the food as well as me.
I had a small iron stove. I opened the parcel and could scarcely believe my eyes: flour, crackers (big soldier's crackers), a piece of honey (rolled in a piece of paper), and tea! I made pancakes using my stove, and a week later I felt better. It was possible for me to go on living.
In fact, that parcel saved me. Soon I was able to walk and decided to go to the Central Administrative Board of Industrial schools (it was situated near the Circus).
But my destiny carried me along another way. Two days later I heard a knock at the outer wall (the doorbell did not function). A short soldier (a Jew) came in carrying a huge package in his hands. I immediately understood that someone had lent me a helping hand.
The soldier said that he had a parcel from my brother Haim (from the Leningrad front) for his sister Nina. The soldier had served with Haim. They were anti-aircraft gunners at the famous Road of Life [14]. There they were fed well, and had some extra food at their disposal.
The soldier refused to give me the parcel since Nina was absent. In the accompanying letter my brother said that he had sent us parcels several times before, but they did not reach the addressee. The first time messenger fairly confessed that he had kept the parcel for his family when he found his wife dying and his relatives suffering of starvation. The second time the messenger told Haim that he did not find us because we had died. For the third parcel, Haim permitted the messenger to keep it if he found us to be dead. So that third messenger was in front of me.
I explained him that Nina and I were brother and sister, she had left, and Haim was my brother. I showed him our photograph and my passport (I got it in June 1941). But the soldier remained unmoved by all of this information: he wanted to see Nina. I cried and begged to give food to me because I was dying of starvation. He thought it over, had compassion on me, and gave me the parcel, but only when I wrote a letter to Haim confirming the receipt of the food. Our apartment was communal [15]. If my hungry neighbors had seen my food, I think they would have taken it away from me, probably killed me, and eaten the food as well as me.
I had a small iron stove. I opened the parcel and could scarcely believe my eyes: flour, crackers (big soldier's crackers), a piece of honey (rolled in a piece of paper), and tea! I made pancakes using my stove, and a week later I felt better. It was possible for me to go on living.
In fact, that parcel saved me. Soon I was able to walk and decided to go to the Central Administrative Board of Industrial schools (it was situated near the Circus).
Period
Year
1942
Location
Leningrad
Russia
Interview
Boris Lerman
Tag(s)