Murder Story of Lyady Jews on the Mereya River Bank in Lyady

My dear brother, Yesterday I received your postcard of November 24. Our darling, we were so glad to receive your four letters. We are infinitely grateful to you for them. I write you very often, although Mummy writes less as her glasses are not good enough. So she relies on me to write about everything. My dear, you are waiting to hear about our family. But alas! We will never hear any good news about them. They are no longer alive. How hard it is to think this! Several days ago Mummy met Polka, the wife of Menya Krupatkin, at the market, and she told her about the death of our nearest and dearest in all its detail. My blood runs cold, my eyes are full of tears; I cannot write to you about their excruciating death. But I know you are battle-hardened and quite prepared for the news. Grishenka, I see all our dear ones in front of my eyes: Gitochka and the children found themselves out in the street, after the Germans had burned the house down in the summer of 1941. First, they lived with Minya, but they starved. Gitochka and the children used to go to collect potato peels and other leftovers, hungry and torn. Later they were put into the camp where the Belarussian school used to be. There they remained, starving to death, waiting for the pits to be dug. Gitochka gave all her precious things to Murashkina, who she used to work with at the savings bank, but this scum did not bring her even a piece of bread. They waited until the pits were dug on … [word unclear] and then 1,800 Jews, together with their children, laid down their lives. There they uttered their final words, words of freedom, cries for help, but the former thieves and criminals, the policemen, carried out the sentence. The mere thought of their agonizing death makes my flesh creep. We well never see our dear children Rivochka, Vovochka and Marik again, we will never again hear their gifted performances. They last performed on the edge of the grave, when they said farewell to their so happy but so briefly lived lives…. Grishenka, we are now planning to go to Lyady, to visit the graves, to go the place where our sweet home used to be…