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the next day after their arrival fascist bombers destroyed the railway station and all trains in Malin. A train with evacuated people from Western Ukraine was also bombed. Uncle Gersh came home in tears. He told us hundreds of people were killed and there were parts of human bodies scattered all around.
There were children from this train wandering about the town knocking on the doors of houses asking people to let them in. They lost their parents. Later director of our school gathered those kids together and they were evacuated.
The town was in panic. We ran to the river to hide under its steep banks and stayed there a whole night. We had a terrible feeling that Germans were already in town. Early in the morning Uncle Gersh harnessed the horses and left with his family.
After the railway station was bombed people began to escape from the town. Shymanovskiye, our neighbors, wanted us to join them to go away, but my mother firmly refused to leave. She was under the influence of older Jews that were saying that Germans would not harm anybody.
I did understand that we had to leave, however young I was, but my mother only smiled at me saying that everything would be all right. She didn’t want to leave her home – she had a hard life and everything that she had was the result of hard work. I packed my small suitcase where I put some underwear and clothes and my ring and chain. She unpacked it saying, ‘Look, I put your things back into the wardrobe.’
In a few days, when I was lifting a bucket of water from a well, Germans began a landing operation at the paper mill and started bombing the town. I ran to my aunt Shulka who lived nearby. She was making dumplings in her kitchen and her daughter Tsylia was helping her. I shouted, ‘What are you doing – the Germans are already at the paper mill and you are making dumplings here?!’ I helped my aunt to find her documents and the three of us went to my home to get my mother and grandfather.
My friend Ida, who was standing on the porch of her house, asked me, ‘Tsylia, are you running away?’ I told her that I was leaving that very moment because everything was going to explode and I told her to go with us. Ida refused and wet into her house.
I grabbed my mother and grandfather by their hands and we ran down the street barefoot as we were. My grandfather could hardly walk and I kept pulling him begging him to try and go with us. Very soon Grandfather got tired, sat on the ground and begged us to leave him alone.
Some old people around began to shame us for putting an old man into such pain. They told us to leave him alone: ‘Nobody would do him any harm – we would look after him.’ We begged my grandfather to go with us, but he didn’t move. My mother and I embraced him – we realized that we were not going to see him again.
There were children from this train wandering about the town knocking on the doors of houses asking people to let them in. They lost their parents. Later director of our school gathered those kids together and they were evacuated.
The town was in panic. We ran to the river to hide under its steep banks and stayed there a whole night. We had a terrible feeling that Germans were already in town. Early in the morning Uncle Gersh harnessed the horses and left with his family.
After the railway station was bombed people began to escape from the town. Shymanovskiye, our neighbors, wanted us to join them to go away, but my mother firmly refused to leave. She was under the influence of older Jews that were saying that Germans would not harm anybody.
I did understand that we had to leave, however young I was, but my mother only smiled at me saying that everything would be all right. She didn’t want to leave her home – she had a hard life and everything that she had was the result of hard work. I packed my small suitcase where I put some underwear and clothes and my ring and chain. She unpacked it saying, ‘Look, I put your things back into the wardrobe.’
In a few days, when I was lifting a bucket of water from a well, Germans began a landing operation at the paper mill and started bombing the town. I ran to my aunt Shulka who lived nearby. She was making dumplings in her kitchen and her daughter Tsylia was helping her. I shouted, ‘What are you doing – the Germans are already at the paper mill and you are making dumplings here?!’ I helped my aunt to find her documents and the three of us went to my home to get my mother and grandfather.
My friend Ida, who was standing on the porch of her house, asked me, ‘Tsylia, are you running away?’ I told her that I was leaving that very moment because everything was going to explode and I told her to go with us. Ida refused and wet into her house.
I grabbed my mother and grandfather by their hands and we ran down the street barefoot as we were. My grandfather could hardly walk and I kept pulling him begging him to try and go with us. Very soon Grandfather got tired, sat on the ground and begged us to leave him alone.
Some old people around began to shame us for putting an old man into such pain. They told us to leave him alone: ‘Nobody would do him any harm – we would look after him.’ We begged my grandfather to go with us, but he didn’t move. My mother and I embraced him – we realized that we were not going to see him again.
Period
Year
1941
Location
Malin
Zhytomyrska oblast
Ukraine
Interview
Tsylia Shapiro
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