Murder Story of Wlodzimierzec Jews in the Forest in the Żołkinie Area

…Two weeks before Rosh Hashanah [the Jewish New Year], on August 28, 1942, the chief of the Germans [i.e., the chief of the Gendarmerie] ordered [the gendarmes] to carry out a roll call and assemble the Jews of Włodzimierzec and its vicinity in the plot of land [market square] in the town center. The Germans carried out [the roll call], [assisted by] local [i.e., Ukrainian auxiliary] policemen…. The Jews were driven out of their homes and herded toward the plot of land. The plot of land was heavily guarded – we were surrounded by a chain of armed local policemen. On that day, by 9:30 AM, all the Jews of Włodzimierzec were already assembled in the square. [Suddenly,] the group of Germans who were carrying out the operation began to fire volleys into the crowd. A great commotion arose; many were wounded and killed. Numerous Jews bolted, broke through the police cordon, and began to run away. In the commotion, I was separated from my parents and carried away by the tide of fugitives… running toward the forest. We were being fired upon from all directions. Only a few of the escapees made it into the forest; the rest were either killed or caught.… An hour later, and throughout that day, I witnessed a tragedy, a horrible sight: [In front of me stretched] a long line of Jews from Włodzimierzec – old men and old women, young men and young women, mothers and babies – surrounded by Germans and [Ukrainian auxiliary] policemen. They were being led toward the forest, some 300 meters from the place where I was lying. They were taken to a nearby site where three pits had been dug beforehand. When they entered the forest, some of them were forced to take off their outer garments, and, when they approached the site [pits], they were killed and thrown into the pits.…

…One day, it was in the morning, I went out with [a person named] Kaplan… to collect a pair of trousers for the Germans…. On the way, I learned that mass graves for the Jews were being dug. My whole body began to shake with fear…. Many non-Jews from the [nearby] villages of Dolhovolya and Żołkinie had been mobilized at that time to dig the pits. It was Tuesday, and there were guards posted around the town. People were trying to escape anywhere they could. On the first night, there were victims among the would-be fugitives.… On that day, an order was given [that the Jews] should report at the place of assembly [the market square] for another roll call. Some Jews had prepared hideouts… for themselves, and they hid there on that day, but most of the ghetto's Jews – [from] the elderly to the small children – were driven out of their homes and taken to the place of assembly. I had time to build a small bunker for myself in my dairy barn; it had enough room for only two persons. I hid my wife and children in the bunker in Rabbi Shlomo Kutin's attic, where 23 people [were hidden].… Our bunkers were disconnected from each other, with no possibility of communication. The day of the murder [operation] passed, and night came. The Germans and [Ukrainian auxiliary] policemen threw a feast after the massacres. Their drunken voices and raucous shouts could be heard all around us. We huddled in our hideouts, stricken with fear, while the murderers, may their names and memory be blotted out, were celebrating and making merry. On the next day, the Germans began to search for bunkers and hideouts – since, according to their account, hundreds of Jews were missing. On that day (that is, on Saturday), I heard through the cracks of my bunker that, in the hideout of Rabbi Shlomo Kutin…, 23 people had been found. Now I knew that my wife and three children were in their hands. On the same day, the Germans caught more than 300 hidden Jews, took them to the pits, and murdered them.…

…Two weeks before the day of the liquidation, I was fired from my job at the [town] hospital. During this period, I, along with many others, was sent…. to the [village of] Antonówka, to work near the bridge that was being built over the river.… Suddenly, one evening we were told that we would be returned to Włodzimierzec. A roll call had been carried out, and we were loaded onto sealed [train] cars.… We knew that this was to be our last journey, and many tried to jump out of the train windows. When we arrived at the Włodzimierzec railway station, we were lined up in columns and taken to the town. I will never forget the moment when my father saw me and called out: "My daughter, why didn't you run away? Surely, pits have been dug for us. Why didn't you run away, my daughter?" I cried a lot and said: "No, father, I couldn't run away! I will go with everyone, together with everyone!"… We already knew that the end would come tomorrow. All our family members had assembled in our house; we said goodbye and asked forgiveness from each other – forgiveness for imaginary sins, for crimes that we hadn't committed. My sister Hava was with us, along with her husband and their three children – Motele, Dvorele, and Fridele (a newborn baby, who was two weeks old). I approached her cradle, my heart being torn from the inside. My sister wrapped her two-week-old daughter in a blanket, and she cried out and talked to her in an inhuman voice: "My little daughter! Forgive me, my young bird, for not giving you much time to see the light of the world. It is not my fault.…" The oldest child, who was only six years old, approached the closet, put another shirt over the shirt he was wearing, and said: "This way, maybe the bullet will not go through me and kill me!"… And then the expulsion from the houses [in the ghetto] began – we were hurried along like a flock of sheep, to the place that was called… "Di Linkes" [i.e., the market square]. We had been surrounded by Ukrainian policemen. Some curious non-Jews came to watch our misfortune. [There were] only three Germans, and the rest were Ukrainian [auxiliary policemen]. There were a few of them [Germans]. But our will to resist had been taken away from us. We were utterly broken. Now they began to announce that the specialists [skilled workers] were to stand apart. They did it to make us believe that these specialists would be spared, thereby exacerbating our confusion. The plot of land [market square] became severely overcrowded, with everyone trying to be included in the group of "specialists". [Suddenly,] a German fired [into the air], to restore order. The nearby [Ukrainian] policemen took this as a sign to open fire, and they began to shoot. The anxiety and the embarrassment… ratcheted up, and many [Jews] began to run away. I, too, began to run, not knowing where I was going. My sister's daughter was running along with me…. We reached a potato field and lay down there for the rest of the day. The place was perhaps a kilometer away from the murder site, where the [remaining] Jews were taken afterward. We heard the shouts of our martyred loved ones and the sounds of gunfire. We didn't believe that we would survive.… We stayed there through the night, and only at daybreak did we leave the field and run into the forest. On our way, we met a non-Jew who told us: "You shouldn't put yourselves at risk. We won't give you food. You will be hunted down in your hideouts like dogs. I can already tell you about the end of the Jews of Włodzimierzec." And he proceeded to tell us the terrible truth: How [the Germans] had separated the women from the men, and how they [the Jews] had been taken to the pits. The [murder] site lay three kilometers from the town. [It] was on the way to the village of Żołkinie. There, all [the Jews] were forced to strip naked and killed in groups of five. "Not everyone died instantly," the non-Jew said, "Many were buried while still alive. Come and see for yourselves how the pits are still heaving. The murderers threw the children into the pits alive, and then killed them all by lobbing [hand] grenades at them." [The non-Jew] was telling this to us with evil delight. After hearing this news, we were not human beings anymore. We were mere wandering shadows….

…When the [Hebrew month of] Elul 5702 came, and especially during the second week of that month, terrible rumors began to spread in the town. A Polish acquaintance living near the ethyl alcohol factory came and told me that the situation was deteriorating, since large pits were being dug not far from the town. We knew that this was the German modus operandi before all the annihilation operations. It became clear to us that death was approaching.… I asked Burak's son to accompany me and propose that the town be set on fire. And so, we went to the members of the committee [i.e., the Judenrat] and submitted our proposal, but they didn't approve it.… It was a bright night in the second half of Elul 5702. We were sitting in our locked house, sensing that the guard in the streets had been reinforced…. Our conversations revolved around death.… [On the following morning,] the policemen came to our house and began to throw everyone out, screaming. The hour was not early. We must have been the last ones to be ordered out of the house – since, once we got out, there was already great agitation in the street. The shot had already been fired, and we saw people running to and fro, looking for shelter. Even though I had always been a troublemaker, at that moment I had no desire to run away. It was unconceivable for me to leave my two-year-old daughter, my [older] six-year-old daughter, and my wife, and run away from them. I knew that we were doomed, since we were caught in a trap, and my usual thirst for action had deserted me at that moment. When we left our house, we took only food for the children, and each of us was dressed in his/her finest. Many [other Jews] took their prayer shawls and phylacteries with them, and so did I. In addition to that, I took two matches and put them in my pocket. The idea of setting [the ghetto] on fire was still on my mind. …We reached the square of assembly and were ordered to sit down. [Some Jews] had escaped beforehand, and shots were fired. Additional Jews were brought to the plot of land [i.e., the market square]. I was sitting there with my wife, my two daughters, and my mother-in-law. My father wasn't sitting next to me. The Germans, wishing to confuse [the Jews] and obscure their own intentions, divided the crowd into separate groups. One group consisted of the Judenrat members and their families; my youngest brother, who was working for the Germans, had been assigned to this group. My father was allowed to join this group, thanks to my brother. There was a separate group of the skilled workers, whom the Germans ostensibly wished to keep because of their professional qualifications. Suddenly, a Ukrainian policeman stepped forward and declared: "Those who have any money, gold, or valuables stashed away somewhere will be allowed to go with us and retrieve them. If they give these valuables to us, they will be spared." I don't recall anyone being tempted by this offer. But I do remember that many [Jews] hoped to improve their chances of survival by joining a different group – this thought spurred many of them to move to the more "privileged" groups. One girl who had been caught in the act of moving was severely beaten by the Germans. Even on the plot of land [the assembly point], some Jews tried to bribe the policemen into letting them join a different group. My family and I belonged to an inferior group, which was slated for annihilation. The Burak family was sitting not far from us, among the Jewish professionals. Since we were related to this family, we told our six-year-old daughter Dvorele: "Dvorele, run along and join the daughters of the Burak [family]. With them, you may survive." Dvorele did as she was told. She evaded [the policemen] and joined the other group, but, unable to stand the torture of being separated from her mother and father, she returned to us shortly thereafter. I was sitting hunched and depressed, thinking of my beloved wife and my little girls – whom I, their father, was powerless to help. I looked around at the community of Włodzimierzec, the doomed ones: I saw whole families, grandparents and grandchildren, generations of love and Jewish hope. Now, they were sitting next to each other, sharing the last love of those condemned to death: Many of the elderly people were sitting covered with their prayer shawls, whispering passages from the Selichot [special Jewish prayers recited during the weeks preceding Yom Kippur] and some other prayers.… The town was surrounded by policemen, and there were three armed Germans and several Ukrainian policemen in the assembly square. Since we had become lost, I had always had this feeling, but now it was crystal clear. I whispered to several lads who were sitting next to me (one of them was a refugee from Warsaw who was living in Włodzimierzec): "Guys," I told them, "Look, there are only three Germans and several [Ukrainian] policemen here. Let's attack them. If we manage to snatch a rifle, we will be able to do something before our deaths. Why are we sitting idly? Let's do something." But my words aroused no response, possibly because they had not been spoken with conviction.… Thus, time went on, and now it was 16:00 PM. As we huddled there – some of us lost in their gloomy reflections, others whispering their prayers and crying – we saw a long column of Germans and Ukrainians approaching the plot [market square]. No sooner had they arrived than they screamed at us to get up and move forward. Now it became clear that all the promises given to the two "chosen" groups – the professionals and the Judenrat [members] and their families – had been nothing but a ruse. To the contrary, the Judenrat group now headed the procession. Children were clinging to their parents as the family members marched on their last journey…, crying. They [the Germans and Ukrainians] led us toward the village of Żołkinie. On the way [to the site], we saw here and there the bodies of murdered [Jews] lying in the fields.… We were walking in the middle, surrounded by two columns of Germans and Ukrainians on the right and the left.... Several of the Ukrainian policemen who were escorting us on one side began to talk to us silently: "You must know that you are lost; you have no hope left; we have just been to [the town of] Sarny. All the Jews of Sarny are "asleep" now. Some of you may have watches – maybe even good ones. It would be a pity if they were to get lost. If you have some valuables, give them to us; it would be a pity if they were to get lost, just like that." I was holding the hand of six-year-old Dvorele and… carrying my two-year-old daughter Hayale. Some of those walking looked frozen, while the majority were crying as they walked. My whole word was now narrowed to my small family. The sense of imminent disaster… drew the essence of love out of me. Now I knew that I would not get to say goodbye to my beloved family, since the same fate was going to befall all of us. I was praying in my heart that the procession would end, that the minute would come when we, clinging to each other, would take our last breath. And so we came to the pits. An additional squad of Germans with machine guns had arrived at the site. Here we, the men, were ordered to bid farewell to our wives; the family members clung to each other and didn't want to be separated. [The Germans] began to beat us with iron whips and lashes, and tear us forcibly away from each other. My wife called out to me: "Mordechai, give me the girls. They now realize that there is no point [in staying with their father]." The Germans left the women and children near the first pits. We, the men, were ordered to go forward. Not far from the pits that had been designated for us, we were ordered to strip naked and arrange our clothes. Afterward, we were told to get away from the [pile of] clothes and line up in [rows] of five. I was standing in one row with my brother Yankele and my father. We thought that they would kill us as soon as we stripped naked, but this was not to be. Lined up in rows of five, we stopped about four meters from the large pit that was to become our grave. My group of five was the closest to the pit. I remember that Yakov Eisenberg [the head of the Judenrat] was standing in the row ahead of us. [Suddenly,] someone shouted: "Jews, let's do something, since we are going to be killed anyway." …Around [the pits], we could already hear the words of "Shema Yisrael" [a Jewish ritual prayer] – and, as though in response to these words sanctifying the name of God, the Germans and Ukrainians began to scream and curse. The first row was immediately ordered to jump into the pit. It was a large pit, and a German with a machine gun stood at one end of it. Those who had entered the pit were lined up facing [the shooter], and he proceeded to kill them with single shots. As the first ones were being shot and killed at one end of the pit, another three people waited for their turn inside it. Eventually, it was my turn to get into the pit. I was in a state of shock because of what I had seen. I had no desire to live and prayed for death to come soon. [Suddenly,] I had the notion that I wouldn’t be forced to wait [for my turn] and see [the murderer] face-to-face; that I wouldn't be ordered to move toward him in a row and wait for him to come. But it wasn't within my power to make this wish a reality. I was already standing on the lip of the pit, positioning myself at the spot from where [people] were jumping into [the pit]. And, in a few seconds, I saw a German [murderer] near me, with his rolled-up sleeves, his drunk and crazy eyes, and his finger pointing toward me and moving in a downward arc – a gesture signifying "Jump!" Only a minute before, some vague and unclear idea had flashed through my brain, of how to die another death, not the death they [the Germans] intended for me. Only a minute before, I had resolved in my soul to do something [about it], but I couldn't come up with any suggestions…. And here, now, at the last minute, the same minute when the finger of the German… motioned me to jump into the pit – at that very moment, some strange idea hit me like a whip, [an idea] born of that dreadful, horrible moment. It was a sudden idea, and it instructed me what to do. It wasn't a coherent thought, but rather a sudden flareup of some deep-seated instinct, or even madness: To break through the German cordon and be killed right away on the spot; to be killed as a rebel, a fugitive – and not as one who obeys an order. To break through, to start running away, and be killed while fleeing, rather than inside the pit. And indeed, that's how it was: Instead of jumping into the pit in accordance with the motion of his finger, I suddenly broke away to the right, as though gripped with madness. I passed through a small gap between two policemen and ran toward some bushes and into a nearby grove. I immediately heard the sound of the shots that were chasing after me, the whistling of the bullets that passed near me. I kept running blindly. Only a single thought was living and flashing inside me: that I was running after my death, that I had already been injured and murdered, and that, for some reason, I still kept running. Thus, I passed a short distance and was already among the forest trees. But I kept running deeper into the woods. I stopped for a moment, and, to my amazement, I realized that I wasn't dead; and moreover, that my body was alive and intact, and that I hadn't even been wounded. Immediately, a spark of hope for life and the desire to live lit up inside me; the desire to fulfill some bigger purpose. I had to live. I had to live not for myself, but in order to recount what I had seen….

…It was on Wednesday or Thursday…. On that day, terrible rumors were spreading. Everyone knew that a census of the [town's] residents was to be carried out on Friday; for some reason, this roll call was particularly feared, and our hearts were filled with premonitions. Therefore, we tried to stay close to our families. On that day, the town's [Jewish residents] were told that many [Ukrainian auxiliary] policemen had arrived [in Włodzimierzec], along with a police officer from [the village of] Antonówka. Someone said that pits were being dug beyond the town. That evening, I came to the Judenrat to see my brother Yakov…. Shraiber, who was the secretary of the Judenrat. He came out of the building and addressed the people who were assembled at the site: "Jews, the only option left to us is to poison ourselves!" I came home and told this to my mother, but I added that I myself didn't believe that this was really the end. I was of the opinion that a roll call would be carried out, and we would then be allowed to return home, as on previous occasions. However, our family was gripped with severe anxiety.… On that evening…, a delegation of Ukrainians [i.e., Ukrainian auxiliary policemen] came to the house of Yakov Eisenberg [the head of the Judenrat], undoubtedly at the initiative of Andrei Mokha [the chief of the Ukrainian Auxiliary Police], and they told Yakov that they were prepared to save him and several of his relatives. Yakov was a bachelor, but he declined their offer, saying that he would share the fate of the entire Jewish community [of Włodzimierzec]. He refused to look for a shelter for himself, [thereby] abandoning them. Yakov tried to calm [the Jews] down, so as not to arouse panic among the families. But everyone was already in a state of great fear. We didn't sleep a wink the whole night.… Friday morning… dawned; it was the 15th of [the Hebrew month of] Elul, 5702. The sounds of distant gunfire reached us, and we thought that these shots were being fired at people trying to escape. We then heard the shouts of the [Ukrainian] policemen, who were doing a house-to-house search, herding the people to the assembly point.… We went out. It was a beautiful, sunny morning. I was walking next to my mother, while my sister Esterke was accompanying our father. Around us, families could be seen moving together to the assembly point. People were walking with their heads bowed, looking fearful.… Most of them sensed the approaching calamity. I saw families crying and kissing [each other] farewell as they walked.… I was filled with great fear, and I recall asking my mother: "Mother, is it true that we won't return home?" "I don't believe we will return, Senderke. Remember, my son: You should do everything within your power to escape. You must stay alive.… You are young and agile. You should run as fast as you can, if only you get the chance. You must stay alive, my son; remember that this was my last will: You should stay alive!" My heart nearly stopped beating, and I asked her with my last breath: "And what will happen to you, mother? What will happen to father and Esterke? How can I leave you?" "Don't think about us…; you shouldn't think about us, you should run first…, and we will run after you." And then we resumed our walk…, and suddenly I heard my mother's voice again. She was telling my father, in a voice full of turbid sorrow and self-recrimination: "We hoped to lead our children to the [wedding] canopy – but alas! We are now taking them to a different place, a very different place." We reached the market square, the place where the roll call was to be carried out. My brother Yakov wasn't with us; he was among the Judenrat members. There square was terribly crowded. We tried to find a less crowded spot to stand, to make it easier for us to escape should the opportunity arise.… Suddenly, a shot rang out nearby, and someone cried: "Jews, save yourselves!"… This cry hit me like an electric shock, and I immediately heard the voice of my mother, and saw her eyes, which seemed to be shouting at me: "Senderke, why are you standing there? Run away quickly!" I began to run toward an open meadow….