Selected text
When the war broke out, my call-up papers were for the seventh day of war. Before I had a chance to report for service, though, the army had already been smashed. There was no unit for us to go to. We were directed east. I walked with a group of friends from the army in a crowd of people who were escaping from the Germans. In their haste people took with them whatever they had been able to lay their hands on. Then they realized that they didn’t have the strength to carry it, so they abandoned various things including clothes and shoes – heaps of them lay in ditches.
When we crossed the Bug river, we started to meet Ukrainians – armed and on horseback [see annexation of Eastern Poland] [16]. They stopped us, even though we wore civilian clothes. Finally we made it to Kamien Koszurski, and from there I set out for Kovel a few days later. I hoped I would find my parents and my sister there because my Aunt Lea – my father’s sister – lived there. The whole journey took me over a week – it was several hundred kilometers. [Kamien Koszurski is actually no more than 100 km from Kovel]. There were a few of us, and we slept where we could. There were lots of abandoned houses in the villages. People were escaping; they were afraid. Sometimes we caught a stray chicken, found a pot and lit a fire. We wanted to cook the chicken, but we were so hungry that the chicken was eaten before it had a chance to go tender.
My predictions came true and to my delight I found my family in Kovel. It turned out that when the war broke out my parents had bought a fairly big cart, loaded up some of the goods from the shop and their own luggage, of course, and gone east, to Aunt Lea. Margolia had gone with them because on the day the war broke out she was still in Zamosc, where she had been spending the summer holidays. In Kovel they lived from selling the goods from the shop. They were even able to rent an apartment.
As for me, soon after I arrived in Kovel I saw a notice that they were looking for people to do construction work in a garrison left by the Poles that the Russians had taken over. I volunteered and was given the job. I was in charge of renovation work there. As a person employed in the Soviet garrison I was allocated a bachelor apartment by the municipal authorities. They billeted me in a private house. I remember that I paid the owner some rent. Thanks to the job in the garrison I was even able to help my parents a little because there was always the chance to take a bit of coal or firewood home.
When the Germans were approaching Kovel evacuation trains began to be put on at the station. People were going east in droves. I went to my parents and Margolia and tried to persuade them that we should all go together, but they didn’t want to just drop everything immediately. They had no idea what might happen. My parents were older by then, and Margolia wanted to stay with them. They talked me into believing that nothing would be lost if they spent a few days packing and so on. I was younger. I sensed that something was going to happen. I decided to leave first, but I thought they would manage to leave in time and that we would meet up. Unfortunately they didn’t make it.
I never found out what exactly happened to them. I never found anybody who could tell me what fate befell them. They were probably in Kovel ghetto, and were most likely shot and buried in the mass graves in the woods outside Kovel. After the war I tried to get news of them. I hoped that they might contact me. But nothing like that happened. I went back to Kovel two years ago thinking that I might find some clues. I went to the site of the Jewish mass graves – all that stands there today is a small monument. But I was unable to find out any details. In the Jewish cemetery on Okopowa Street in Warsaw there’s a whole wall commemorating people who were killed during the war. I put up a plaque there bearing the names of my family.
Anyway, I made it onto an evacuation train. We traveled southeast, and before long the German air attacks started. I was wounded when they bombarded the train. I was put on an army vehicle and taken to a hospital. No one had time to look after me, and I got gangrene and in the end they amputated a part of my arm. After that I set off into the unknown once more, and the trains started running again. That way I reached Vladikavkaz, a beautiful place at the foot of the mountains [the Caucasus]. It was reached by a straight road, and on the horizon there were huge mountains, with their peaks shrouded in mist.
When we crossed the Bug river, we started to meet Ukrainians – armed and on horseback [see annexation of Eastern Poland] [16]. They stopped us, even though we wore civilian clothes. Finally we made it to Kamien Koszurski, and from there I set out for Kovel a few days later. I hoped I would find my parents and my sister there because my Aunt Lea – my father’s sister – lived there. The whole journey took me over a week – it was several hundred kilometers. [Kamien Koszurski is actually no more than 100 km from Kovel]. There were a few of us, and we slept where we could. There were lots of abandoned houses in the villages. People were escaping; they were afraid. Sometimes we caught a stray chicken, found a pot and lit a fire. We wanted to cook the chicken, but we were so hungry that the chicken was eaten before it had a chance to go tender.
My predictions came true and to my delight I found my family in Kovel. It turned out that when the war broke out my parents had bought a fairly big cart, loaded up some of the goods from the shop and their own luggage, of course, and gone east, to Aunt Lea. Margolia had gone with them because on the day the war broke out she was still in Zamosc, where she had been spending the summer holidays. In Kovel they lived from selling the goods from the shop. They were even able to rent an apartment.
As for me, soon after I arrived in Kovel I saw a notice that they were looking for people to do construction work in a garrison left by the Poles that the Russians had taken over. I volunteered and was given the job. I was in charge of renovation work there. As a person employed in the Soviet garrison I was allocated a bachelor apartment by the municipal authorities. They billeted me in a private house. I remember that I paid the owner some rent. Thanks to the job in the garrison I was even able to help my parents a little because there was always the chance to take a bit of coal or firewood home.
When the Germans were approaching Kovel evacuation trains began to be put on at the station. People were going east in droves. I went to my parents and Margolia and tried to persuade them that we should all go together, but they didn’t want to just drop everything immediately. They had no idea what might happen. My parents were older by then, and Margolia wanted to stay with them. They talked me into believing that nothing would be lost if they spent a few days packing and so on. I was younger. I sensed that something was going to happen. I decided to leave first, but I thought they would manage to leave in time and that we would meet up. Unfortunately they didn’t make it.
I never found out what exactly happened to them. I never found anybody who could tell me what fate befell them. They were probably in Kovel ghetto, and were most likely shot and buried in the mass graves in the woods outside Kovel. After the war I tried to get news of them. I hoped that they might contact me. But nothing like that happened. I went back to Kovel two years ago thinking that I might find some clues. I went to the site of the Jewish mass graves – all that stands there today is a small monument. But I was unable to find out any details. In the Jewish cemetery on Okopowa Street in Warsaw there’s a whole wall commemorating people who were killed during the war. I put up a plaque there bearing the names of my family.
Anyway, I made it onto an evacuation train. We traveled southeast, and before long the German air attacks started. I was wounded when they bombarded the train. I was put on an army vehicle and taken to a hospital. No one had time to look after me, and I got gangrene and in the end they amputated a part of my arm. After that I set off into the unknown once more, and the trains started running again. That way I reached Vladikavkaz, a beautiful place at the foot of the mountains [the Caucasus]. It was reached by a straight road, and on the horizon there were huge mountains, with their peaks shrouded in mist.
Period
Year
1939
Location
Poland
Interview
Mieczyslaw Weinryb