Murder Story of Uman Jews in Sukhoi Yar

…On October 8, 1941, at four in the morning, another pogrom began. So that they would not have to yell their heads off, the gendarmerie took the Ukrainian police and others who wished to take part. It was still dark outside when three men burst into our home with shots, pounding, and yelling. We decided that they had come to loot us. Before we had time to turn on the light and get out of bed, the three came in. Two of them were like rabid tigers with awful eyes that filled you with fear as soon as you looked at them. They were the usual SS barbarians, while the third, a civilian, was hitting the door and windows with a club and shouting: "Let's go. Let's go!" It was obvious that he was a Ukrainian and not even a policeman. We did not know what to give him, and it was impossible to ask him about anything. There were thirty-four of us in the building, including children. The frightened children began to cry, and we were all confused, not knowing what would happen. Finally, the civilian with a club shouted: "Everyone out!" Not understanding what was going on, everyone began to go outside. Behind them came two bandits with rifles in their hands, showing where to go. We knew what it was all about, but there was nothing to defend ourselves with. Ten minutes later, this little group was herded onto the marker square, which was ringed on all sides with guards, and the number of people increased with each passing minute. By 7:00 AM, more than ten thousand Jews could be counted on the square. Five heavy trucks were parked there as well, into which small children and old people were thrown; all the rest were driven along on foot. An old Jew took his wife by the arm -- they had lived together for fifty years --and said goodbye with tears in his eyes, knowing that in half an hour they would be killed and that they would never see each other again. Their last words were addressed to their sons, who were fighting the accursed Germans and defending their motherland: "Goodbye, my dear children! You will never see your parents again. We are poor victims. Take revenge on our behalf!" Little Sarochka hugged her mother and kissed her firmly; this little girl of six understood everything that was happening. She asked her mama for another drink, but Mama told her that she would soon drink enough to last forever…Sarochka's blue eyes brimming with tears, looked on sadly, but the bandits had no pity: they were beating people, firing into the crowd in order to scare people even more. Sending women off, they tore children out of the arms of their parents, and beat old people with clubs and rifle butts. The bandits forced those who remained to move in the direction of the prison. They did not keep these people in jail for long. They stripped them, took all their money and valuables, and then drove them all out of town. People who had collapsed and lost the strength to go on further were killed on the spot; all the rest went to the pit. Invalids were thrown out of second story windows into trucks; in this way they "cleansed" the orphanages and the sick from hospitals. While these people were being driven to the pit, the entire town was piled high with the bodies of people killed with clubs and of those who had tried to escape. The Jews then saw three deep pits, and it was only then that they understood that they had been brought there to be shot. The frightened Sarochka was looking into her mother's face as though she were asking her for help. Mama embraced her, kissed her for the last time; she was not crying and was unable to say any more. She was helpless and could do nothing to help her little daughter. She walked along with her firstborn daughter, stood over the pit, and begged for immediate execution. They granted her wish. Some dreadful bandit ran Sarochka through with a bayonet and threw her into the pit; a minute or two later, a gun barked, and the poor mother tumbled into the pit where her Sarochka was already lying. They were at rest forever now, things were already easier for them than for the people who were standing fifty meters from the pit. They came up five at a time, took their places over the pit and received their bullets. Jews who were still alive lay at the bottom of the pit -- old people, cripples. They did not want to waste bullets on them. Dead and wounded Jews were falling on top of them, and thanks to this old people and cripples suffocated to death. The number of Jews was growing smaller and smaller. They were coming up in groups of five, but each one in the group was trying to bring up the rear so as to live another few minutes. Others could not stand it at all and ran forward ahead of their turn. The Germans were standing there laughing and taking pictures of the scene. There was no small number of Sarochkas. Ten-year-old Mayechka even consoled her mother; she tried to explain to her that they were not killing them, that they would live. Mama, naturally, felt sorry for her daughter and for her own life, and even asked her to try to escape, but the little girl refused. Mayechka said: "I don't want to leave. Even if they let me go, Mummy, I'd be where you are. I'll never leave you. If they kill you, then let them kill me along with you, but don't cry, Mummy. They won't kill us!" With these words, Mayechka comforted her mother, even though she herself understood perfectly well that nothing could comfort them. Nothing would be of any help, it was all up for them. They killed Maya along with her mother. Her last words were: "Mummy! I'm glad that I'll be lying next to you. Daddy will get even for our blood. Daddy! This is the last time I'll remember your name. Don't forget us, and kill the horrid fascists!" At first the children appealed to the barbarians and asked: "Uncle, where's your heart? How can you kill little kids like us?" In reply, the bandits showed them that they had no hearts, pointing to their rifles. The adolescents had the presence of mind to realize that pleading would do no good, and that nothing would help them. Some wept, saying goodbye to their families and friends; others walked along heads held high, singing the Internationale one last time. Boys of twelve looked death boldly in the face and cried out: "There will be vengeance! Blood will flow for blood!" The last woman whom they killed went off her head and laughed as she approached the pit. Before she had time to utter her last words, she staggered and fell on top of the ten thousand corpses of those who had just been killed. The blood was still warm and some were still raising their hands or their legs; it was obvious that many were only seriously wounded. They quickly began burying them with earth, but for three days after that, the ground was still moving. No one could help these people, and they rapidly died…

…In the fall, in the early morning, the ghetto inmates were awakened by the loud banging of rifle butts against doors and windows. This "operation" was carried out mainly by local policemen armed with captured Soviet rifles. The women, children, and elderly people were driven out onto the street, to "line up." Our family delayed for 3-4 minutes in our apartment so that I could find my hat. It was cold outside in the early morning and, even though I understood where we were going to be taken, I did not want to freeze… I put my hand in my mother's to go outside to the line (there was no way to avoid this). Mother took me by the hand and my little brother Kim in her arms, and went from our courtyard out to the street and then down the street to the hydropathic clinic (which is now a mental clinic). From the hydropathic clinic, we went to the courtyard of School no. 1 and hid in the kitchen garden there. All those Jews who on that tragic day had been lined up on Vostochnaya Street are now lying in a mass grave in Sukhoi Yar (of the city of Uman), where there is now a monument to the approximately 2,000 Jews who were tortured to death [and] shot. Only we survived…