Murder Story of Ostrog Jews in the Forest in the Ostrog Area

…On August 4, 1941, the SS unit and the local [Ukrainian auxiliary] police made a house-to-house search of the [Jewish] residences, drove the Jews out, and forced them to run toward the "nowe miejsce" [new section of the town]. On their way [to the assembly point]…, [the Jews] were abused, mocked, pushed, and beaten [by the Germans]. The victims were surrounded by armed SS men, [Ukrainian auxiliary] policemen, and a bloodthirsty mob. I would never have imagined that humans could develop such a drive [for brutality]. Thus, we stood there until nightfall. On that day, the elderly people, as well as the children, hadn't eaten, since no one had had enough time to pack some bread for the road. Try to imagine the feelings of the people waiting to die. Each of us had only one wish: that death would come as swiftly as possible. The children were crying; the elderly were praying; machine guns [had been positioned] around us – and our own "neighbors" were digging mass graves. At 4 PM, a selection was carried out. We, the young ones, were separated from the others. Our parents, naturally, were elderly people. [The Germans] were counting the elderly and the sick people. We were sent back to the town, to our homes. The elderly and sick ones remained there. [Then,] they were led in groups of 20 to the graves that had been dug in advance…, and our neighbors, our former friends, were burying them. They were in a hurry, since there were more victims, and the "work" had to be completed by 7 PM. There are no words to describe the horror endured by the people walking to their deaths. Each person behaved according to their own character, and each one knew that they were going to die. The religious people, led by Rabbi "Dear Trisker", went to perform a Kiddush Hashem [sanctification of God's name through martyrdom]…. At 7 PM, the town's commandant came to the killing valley and proclaimed that all the Jews were Communists and warmongers, and that all of them should be annihilated. [But,] since he had a noble soul, he permitted the women who had survived [the murder operation] to return to their homes.…

…It didn't take [more than] a few weeks, maybe two weeks [after the German occupation of the town], when we were told to take only what we could carry, that they were going to "resettle" us, and they herded us to the square. The sick were carried out of the hospitals on stretchers. We were then told to leave everything on the sidewalk and start marching in the middle of the street, because the Jewish people weren’t allowed to walk on the sidewalk. Then, we noticed young Ukrainian men marching on the sidewalk, with shovels on their shoulders, singing. When we came to a big field, a selection [was carried out]: The young and the children to one side, the sick and the elderly to the other. We couldn't find my father. I was so afraid that I might send my mother to work, and so, in an attempt to protect her, I urged her to go to the sick [side]. She didn't want to go, but in the end she went. When my sister noticed that my mother wasn't there, she began to scold me: "Why did you let her go?". And my sister can scold. So, to get away from my sister, I went to the selection line, limping and bending down, hoping to go to the sick side. But this young Nazi officer straightened me up and said: "You are young, you can work." And [he] didn't allow me to go to the sick side. As it turned out, the sick and the elderly were held back, while the young and the children were sent home. When I came home, I found my father, he was hiding. In the evening, we heard gunfire. Then, at midnight, there was a knock on the window, and my mother walked in, with her long hair down…. She couldn't talk. She embraced my father for a long time. In the morning, she told us what had happened: When we left, they were told to undress…, and the Ukrainians dug graves where ten[people] could be laid down in one [row]. They laid them in rows, ten per grave. Then, they [the Germans] killed them [the Jews], while the ground was still heaving. My aunt and uncle were with [near] the same grave as was my mother. Suddenly, my aunt said: "Perl, get up, they are calling us." My mother said: "I don't want to see," but when she finally got up, there was a young SS man standing up in the jeep, calling them. He asked them: "Do you believe in God?" And when they said "yes", he let them go, but the two men from the last three graves were held back and shot. One of them was my uncle, my mother's brother.…

…And a month after it, [i.e., the German occupation of the town], the first … execution began, and we woke up one morning, and we heard footsteps; those were the notorious footsteps of the Nazis, and they were screaming in the streets: "Raus, raus!", which means "get out!", and they chased everybody; it was like a death march; they chased us all into the …forest…. They chased my mother and father, and I … ran away. One Nazi caught me; my father and mother were gone, and because I tried to run away, he placed a machine gun against my back and marched me for about 1-1.5 miles, escorting me into the forest…. And as I was walking, marching, I… stepped on all the … jewelry, because the [Jewish] people had taken their possessions. They thought that they were possibly being relocated, but they [Germans] made them drop everything, so that, when they arrived at this place [murder site], … they didn't have any possessions with them. And I marched with this Nazi, and I came to the place. I found my mother; my father had already been separated; they [the Germans]… had taken the older men, the religiously observant, the sick people from the hospitals, and they separated them from the women and the children. So I was with my mother all that day. It was a very hot day; [we were] in the sun, with no food or water, just standing and screaming and crying, and everyone else did likewise. I remember the…black birds flying all over us, and I asked my mother: "What are the black birds doing here?" And she said:" It's a bad omen; that means that they are going to kill us here." Black birds… come… when there is a tragedy, when there is a disaster. And we were there from early morning until late in the evening. And… we were surrounded by all the Nazis and Ukrainian policemen, and then the order came that the women and children could go home, and my mother and I went back to the house. And my father was no longer with us. And then, the next morning, I got up very early, and I heard that they [the Germans] had taken some [Jewish] people [from the murder site] to a different area in the town, such as the prison. As I was walking, crying, I was approached by a Ukrainian policeman. His name was Lusik Stepanyuk; he had a rifle behind his back; he was on a bicycle, and he stopped me and asked me: "Why are you crying? Where are you going?". I said… "I am looking for my father. We were told that some people had been taken to the prison last night." And he said: "Don't go there, they were all shot. I was there. They were all killed"….

…On August 4, [1941]…, all of us [Elizaveta, her mother, father, and two twin brothers] were sitting at home. A German man and a [Ukrainian auxiliary] policeman came to our house and told us to gather all our valuables, our most precious property, and to assemble in the street. They said nothing else. We didn't have any particularly valuable items…. We all went into the street…, and there were many people [i.e., assembled Jews] in the town center. All of them had been lined up in rows; they were carrying their possessions. There was a square…, and we had been told that all [the possessions] that we had taken with us should be piled up in this square. And when we were passing by [the square], we saw a mountain of various objects, with each person [passing by] tossing their possessions there…. All of us were directed beyond the Horyn [River, sic for the Vilya River], to the [new section of the town called] the "nowe miejsce". And there, in the "nowe miejsce" beyond the Horyn [River], there was a large meadow and a large forest. Apparently, pits had been dug [in advance] in that forest.… And there, [the Germans] began to sort us out. They put the men, the young ones (aged 20-45), to one side, [and] the women with children to the other side. This selection went on for quite a while, beyond lunchtime…. I remember being desperately thirsty. There was a water [puddle] at my feet, and I was drinking this water, although it wasn't clean at all. And then we were lined up in columns once again, sorted by age, and [the Germans] began [to drive] us back home, toward the town. I didn't understand… what all this was about, but I had a very bad premonition…. And as we were marching, we saw a big column of men standing nearby. My father was in the first row, and I saw him (I still remember his image); I remember his eyes brimming with tears, and I began to cry. I cried bitterly all the way to the house…. When we arrived home, there was nothing to eat…. The… machine guns began to rattle [outside the town], and my mother steepled her fingers and said: "That's it, they have all been killed. Our father is no longer among the living." And that was indeed the case. My father did not come back, and we never saw him again.…

…In the first ten days of July [sic for August 4], 1941, all of us Jews – children, elderly, and sick individuals – were driven to the central square of the "nowe miejsce" [the new section of the town], where I lived. All the Jews were [also] brought there from the old section of the town. [In the square], they were lined up in rows of four. We were surrounded by Germans and [Ukrainian auxiliary] policemen with dogs. None of us had any idea where [we would be taken] and what would be [done to us]. It was a warm, sunny day. At about 10 AM, we were all driven eastward, to a dense pine forest beyond the town. Deep trenches had been dug in the forest, and the Germans and [Ukrainian] policemen began their vile work. They forced [the people] to strip naked, positioned [them in groups of] 100 on the edge of the pit, and, when a whistle was blown, they shot [the victims] in the back of the head. The murdered people were falling into the pit. On this day, a total of more than 2,000 Jewish people, the healthiest [sic] young [sic] men of the town of Ostróg, were shot dead. The property left behind by the executed [people]… was looted by the [Ukrainian] policemen and the local residents who were covering the victims [with soil]. My mother was hiding me, covering my head with her clothes, and thus I didn't get near the pit. My father Yitzhok and his brother Akiva were shot dead on that day. By the end of the day, a German arrived on a motorcycle. He examined the pit and shouted out loud that all [the remaining] women, men, and children were to line up in columns and go back to their homes. Thus, I remained alive after the first shooting.… …The third [murder] operation took place sometime in June-July [sic for October 15] 1942. All the [inmates] of the ghetto were driven to the "Pocztarka" square [meadow], where the cattle were grazing. My mother and two aunts had hidden in a hideout in our house… and didn't go [to the assembly point]. At the same time, while the Jews were being driven [out of the ghetto] to the Pocztarka [square], I and some other Jews were working at the [railway] station of [the village of] Ożenin, unloading cement from freight cars. [At that moment], we, about 12 Jews, were loaded onto a vehicle and taken to the Pocztarka [square], where all the Jews from the ghetto [had been assembled]. I was walking across the Pocztarka, looking for my relatives, but couldn't find them. They were not [in the square], and I realized that they were [hiding] in the hideout. I was miraculously able to leave the Pocztarka. I returned home and joined my mother and aunts in the hideout. [The remaining] people were once again driven to the "nowe miejsce", to the pine forest on the outskirts of town, where they were shot dead. I can't tell you, I don't remember, how many people were killed in the third murder operation.…

September 3, 1941 "My dear, you are my husband, my most beloved above all others. I am writing this letter months after your departure. I have gone through a lot during this time, and now I should say goodbye to you! I cannot convey the hell we are living through. I'll try, in a few words, to tell you the main stages [of the process]. It began immediately after you'd left [the town], on the exact same day. On Friday morning, the town was already occupied [by the Germans] – but the fighting went on during these days.… The morning of that day [August 4, 1941] began with a terrifying sight, just like in the plays [sic] of Dante [Alighieri]. No, it is not true. Dante could never have dreamed up such frightening spectacles. Sandwiched between two rows of [German] soldiers, we were led into a forest; there, we stood in a plot of land that had been surrounded with machine guns. We were waiting for death in silence. There [in the forest], 1,900 people died, while the rest returned home. On that plot of land, we left our father. We didn't lament his passing very much. Common sense told us that we had been spared for a fate worse than death. But the will to live was so strong that we were happy to live even this [kind of] life. We didn't believe that we were about to go through something similar. This period lasted for four weeks, during which there were many "surprises", such as: handing over our money and gold, paying a ransom to the sum of 100,000 rubles…. On August 31, [1941], there were rumors that, on the morrow, [the same] sight that we had been through once would repeat itself. I didn't believe it, but the sight did repeat itself. This time, we lost Rosi, who had been like a "father" to us after the death of our actual father. She had a strong will, as well as physical strength: She sold our possessions, procured food, ran the house – all the while going out to perform forced labor on a daily basis, from 6 AM until 6 PM. She lost her life two days ago, and today no one can delude themselves that this was the last group [of victims]. Today, there is a rumor that it [the murder operation] will take place tomorrow. Seeing as all the recent rumors have come true, I'm bidding you farewell today. I have described only the dry facts, while my feelings, which are sometimes insane, are impossible to describe! Especially when I look at our [baby] boy. My beloved, if only you could know how beautiful and great he is. My heart is bursting whenever I think that, tomorrow, I myself will carry him to his eternal rest, while he is laughing and crying.… God will not grant me the opportunity to hear him say [the word] "Mame" ["mother" in Yiddish]. He [the baby boy] has saved my life twice, since women with children were allowed to return home, and now I wish to save him, but there is no way. I wanted to convert to Christianity (many would like to do so). The Christian clergy went [to the German authorities] to obtain a confirmation for this, but they have no hope of getting such a confirmation – therefore, one should say goodbye to life. The mother is holding up bravely; she is only pained about the fact that she cannot save the child, and about never seeing you again. The mother and I are kissing you warmly and asking you that, when you return [to the town], you don't stay for long here, in the land of our parents. Run away from the memories, from the place of our torments, as though it were a place of plague. Weep over our misfortune and try to get your own life in order. And, my beloved, whatever happens, you should take care of your own life, since life has its own rules. Don't forget me and your firstborn son; you would be proud of him, if God didn't inflict such a punishment on us. We kiss you one last time and bid you farewell. Bluma, the mother and the son. Good Lord! I have lived for another month, deluding myself with hope yet again, but in vain. Tomorrow, it will be Yom Kippur [the Day of Atonement], and this is indeed the day of judgment for me and for your great son, Yoske. I really don't want to die! The boy is so wonderful. And to die like this!..."

….It was on Monday, the 11th of Av 5701 (August 4, 1941). The day of Tisha B'Av fell on the Sabbath that year, and the fast was postponed to Sunday. The recitation of the "kinnot" and the fasting were very obvious and general that year. All the Jews of Ostróg – religious and secular, young and old – were gripped with a deep religious fervor. This was because of the inhuman living conditions, which drove them to seek solace in the superhuman realm. More than at any previous time, the Jews could grasp the deeper meaning of the Book of Lamentations, and they felt a premonition of its tragic import in their aching flesh. This first day passed in a real "Tisha B'Av" atmosphere, with aching hearts and terrifying mental states. Unfortunately, it was not a workday, and the leisure time gave free rein to our depressing thoughts. When night fell, the people pressed their faces into the comforting pillows and poured their bitterness into them. And yet, none of these miserable Jews could imagine that, for many of them, this would be the last Sunday of their lives. At 4 AM, just before the dawn of a bright summer day, the startling sound of gunfire, coming from multiple directions, woke them from their nightmares. The people sprang out of their beds to peer between the cracks of the closed shutters. And here were the SS men, in their colorful and peculiar uniforms, rushing about the town – on foot, on motorcycles, and in cars – in full gear. The people's first thought upon seeing this was that the front line may have moved back to the town, and that the Germans were retreating. But a short while later, the true meaning of what was going on outside became clear. The soldiers broke into people's homes, screaming "Los!" [go out], and began to drive them all – young and old, men and women, children and adults – into the street. They gave the occupants no time to dress, but threw them out, screaming "Los! Los!"… The streets were quickly filled with frightened, half-dressed, and sleepy Jews. One could hear the crying of terrified children and the sighs of the elderly and the sick who had been dragged out of their homes. Here and there, beaten and wounded Jews were brought in, their white beards streaked red with their own blood. Not even the most skilled painter could have depicted, in his wildest flights of fancy, the dreadful spectacle of this mob of beaten and wounded Jews, or the sight of SS men tormenting a Jew with a beard and sidelocks. They fell upon him like bloodthirsty hounds, and – with a savage cry of "ein typischer Jude!" – were prepared to tear him to shreds… Most shocking and heart-wrenching of all was the scene of Jewish patients and women in labor, who could not walk on their own, being thrown out of the hospitals like so much trash. The [killers] also dragged the helpless and disabled elderly occupants out of the nursing home, beating them savagely all the while. In these circumstances, amid such horrible scenes, did the frightful journey of the Jews of Ostróg begin. The people formed long lines along the sidewalks, so as not to disturb the "good order" of the "Aryan" transport, which was getting ready for action…. Along the sides of the roads, there were gaggles of Ukrainians, who had gathered from all over the area to watch the proceedings and openly gloat at the misfortune of the Jews – their erstwhile neighbors, acquaintances, friends, and benefactors. They were not disappointed, being given free rein to loot [Jewish property] in exchange for their treacherous help in rounding up the Jews and humiliating them. The order was given, and the line finally began to inch forward. In the center of town, they were joined by another line of miserable Jews coming from another direction, and the two groups formed a single, long procession of boundless misery and sorrow, full of blood and tears without number. The entire Jewish community of Ostróg was moving toward the new town under a hail of blows and cruel barbs. When the procession reached the bridges, the murderers tossed the sick and weary women, who were unable to walk further, into the Viliya River. After falling from the great height, the women were dashed upon the rocks and drowned before the eyes of the people walking across the bridges. Upon reaching the town, the Jews were greeted by two rows of Ukrainian savages, who proceeded to mercilessly beat the Jews passing between them. As a result, by the time they reached the end of their painful journey near the forest, almost all the Jews were wounded and bleeding. Near the forest, they were met by SS men, who photographed the journey and counted the victims. The leader of the SS gang was delighted at the success of this undertaking, and he ordered his men to "sort" the Jews, separating the men from the women. The women with children made up a separate group, as did the elderly and sick individuals and those who were incapable of work. The four camps were arranged in a large and regular square. When they reached the designated spot, it was already broad daylight. The men were bareheaded, their hats having been knocked away by blows. The women, too, were bareheaded, and they were forced to stay on their feet in this condition, having no strength left after the rigors of the journey under the scorching sun. The sick individuals were desperate for some water; children were crying. A short distance from there, once could see a group of 150 local Ukrainians, who were leaning on their spades and waiting…. At that time, the SS chief, the military commander, and the members of the town administration were debating the extent of the massacre, and the way it was to be carried out. To alleviate their boredom during the long wait, the killers devised various entertainments: They took the town rabbis, including the rabbi from Trisk and his son, out of the groups. The rabbis were joined by some 40 local Jewish notables and taken to the center of the field, where the killers began to torment them with horrible cruelty. One of the killers, who spoke Polish, addressed the elderly rabbi: "Come on, High Priest, bless your people, who are in a grave danger"…. The rabbi made no reply and continued to stand in silence, as though he had not heard or seen anything. The SS man spoke again: "Come on, old man, sing and dance before us!" And the rabbi began to sing – first in a barely audible whisper, and then louder. It was a heart-rending Hassidic tune, conveying a mixture of anxiety, a sense of common tragedy, piety, and transcendence. Meanwhile, his stumbling feet moved in a Hassidic dance. Those who have not seen the otherworldly expression in the rabbi's eyes have never seen a truly transcendent spectacle. And the tormented old man went on dancing and singing in this fashion until the very end…. The crowd of Jews watched the proceedings in deadly silence, not knowing how this bloody spectacle was going to end. Finally, the SS chief and the military commander arrived on the scene and inspected the groups of the waiting Jews. They inquired about the various professionals and cast a glance at the group of sick and disabled individuals. When the SS chief saw that the group of elderly and sick individuals was too small, he came up with a satanic scheme, approached the group of professionals, and announced that, if there were any sick individuals among them, they were allowed to step away from the group. Many desperate Jews fell for this evil ploy and rushed to join the group of the sick. The SS chief then asked the military commander in a plaintive tone: "Do you intend to build Ostróg with these lazy Jews?"... When he pointed to the group of the sick, it dawned upon them that they were condemned to death!... When the unfortunates realized that they had been deceived, they tried to flee away from the group, but it was too late, as the way was now barred. After the doomed group had been separated from the rest, there was an order to send the women with children and those capable of work back to the town. No words can describe the heart-rending parting between husbands and wives, parents and children. Those who had been ordered to go back quickly lined up, having been brutally torn away from their loved ones, who were taken away to die. The line walked to the town under a heavy guard. It was 7 PM when the bereaved Jews began their second journey on that disastrous day. None of the returnees knew where they were going. We thought that we were being taken to a concentration camp – but, after all the horrors we had endured during the day, our souls yearned for death, and we were utterly indifferent to whatever else lay in store for us. When we approached the town, the guards from the Gendarmerie told us that we had nothing to fear, and that we were being taken home. And so it was. When we were allowed to return to our homes, we were struck by the cruel realization of what was going to happen to our loved ones, who were left to their bitter fate in the valley of death. Our senses, which had been dulled by the blow and the mental shock, cleared later. At that very time, as related by the few survivors returning from the killing field, an unprecedented orgy of killing took place there: the bestial massacre of some 3000 Jews from Ostróg – elderly, sick, and weak individuals; men, women, and children, who left behind a town of miserable widows and orphans. Here is a description of the criminal massacre, gathered from the testimonies of eyewitnesses: After those capable of work had been sent back to town, an order was given to the Ukrainian peasants, who were to serve as undertakers. When they had dug the first pit, which was about 100 meters long and 2 meters deep, the SS murderers began their work: no human words can describe the hellish, bloodcurdling, and heart-rending scenes that unfolded among the wretched victims. The men were the first in line. The SS soldiers, who were armed with long, hooked sticks that could fit around a person's neck, caught their victims by the neck and dragged them, rudely and brutally, toward the pit. When 20 persons had been brought there, they were ordered to undress and line up on the edge, facing their grave. The firing squad stood behind them, and they shot the Jews in the back with machine or submachine guns, in such a way that the wounded victims fell straight into the pit. The "undertakers" with their spades rushed to cover the still-living victims with a thin layer of soil. In the meantime, another group of 20 men were lined up, and they were shot and buried atop the first group. The massacre proceeded in this fashion, quickly and relentlessly. The Ukrainian policemen did not stand by idly; rather, they rushed among the doomed Jews like demons, tearing away their garments and snatching any valuables that the Jews still had in their possession. With the eyes of hungry wolves, they searched for the victims who had tried to hide in the back rows – to avoid seeing their impending doom or to embrace their loved ones for the last time and bid them farewell. The Ukrainian muzhik beasts were furious at the Jews for this attempt to cling to life – that fury had passed on to the Ukrainians from the gang of Germans murderers – and they savagely dragged these Jews into the front rows, so that they would be sent into the pit before the others. By the time the first pit was filled with layers of bodies, the second one was ready, and the third one was dug immediately afterward. The murder went on rapidly and without pause, as though the predators were afraid that someone might snatch their prey out of their mouths…. In contrast to the infernal depravity of the human monsters, whose hardened hearts felt no pang at the unprecedented murders, robberies, tortures, and torments that they were inflicting upon the Jews – we must also mention some instances of magnanimity, transcendent bravery, spiritual purity, and devotion on the part of the martyrs. One merciful mother – a yiddishe mame – begged the killer to allow her to carry her sick son to the pit, since he was suffering from pneumonia and unable to walk on his own. Her request was granted, and the mother carried her son to his death in her own tender hands. She then stood at a distance of fifty meters, watching her son die. Comforted by the knowledge that she had spared him the agony of being dragged to the pit by the filthy hands of the murderers, she waited indifferently for her own turn to go down into the pit. Some pious and devoted Jewish women, who had accompanied their husbands throughout their lives, were eager to join them now, on their last journey, even though it was not yet the women's turn to die. Only after they had begged did the killers agree to their request, and the sight of the couples walking toward their grave hand-in-hand – their eyes raised to the heavens, and the touch of their fingers transmitting love, loyalty, and encouragement in these final moments – was most transcendent and awe-inspiring. My own mother, who was supposed to join the group of returnees, was one of the lucky ones: She was permitted to accompany my father and share his fate – they had loved each other in life, and refused to part even in death…. Amid such scenes, which make the visions of hell conjured up by Dante pale in comparison, the massacre went on until 9 PM. By that time, there were about 500 women and 100 men left in the killing field, awaiting their fate. At this moment, the SS chief arrived there and ordered the rest of the men to be liquidated, and the women to be returned home. Some of the reprieved women were already undressed, waiting to be shot, while others had to be taken out of the pit. Who could possibly sound the depths of the human heart and see what these miserable wretched now felt, having left their husbands, sons, and other loved ones in the pit? Did they experience an animal joy at having been spared and allowed to return to their widowed and mournful "homes"? Truly, you should not judge others until you have been in their shoes. In any case, these were the survivors who brought the dire news of the enormous killing and destruction to the town. A terrible night descended upon Ostróg. The despairing wails of the widows and orphans, the bereaved friends and relatives, came out of the houses. They were mourning the 3000 martyrs whose bodies had been purified through their pain, and whose souls ascended to heaven. That night, the Ukrainian policemen walked abroad, beating on the doors of the Jewish residences with their rifle butts and sternly demanding that the Jews stop crying. At this bitter hour, when the heart was burning in hellfire, filled with helpless pain and impotent fury, the Jews were forbidden to unburden their overflowing breasts. On the morrow, they were afraid to even mention the events of the previous day, lest the enemy should hear. When I woke up, my legs carried me to the "plot of land"…. It was a lonely and deserted place, filled with scattered unpaired shoes, various garments, prayer shawls, tefillin, documents and letters that had fallen out of pockets, etc.… A short distance away, I could see the three horrible pits, the common graves, covered with a thin layer of yellow sand, out of which emerged women's headscarves and snoods, swollen hands and other limbs, which the killers had neglected to cover properly in their haste. Alternatively, the victims in the upper layers may have moved in their death agony, raising a hand to threaten, warn, or ask some question in front of God and humankind…. And around the edges of the pits, there were puddles of blood – the pure blood of the martyrs, which had not frozen or congealed – the voice of the blood of brothers crying out of the ground…. These three mass graves were the final resting place of 3000 Jews, who had been the crown jewel of the glorious community of Ostróg: rabbis, devout men, teachers, intellectuals, elders, and notables. They were all tragically shot at this spot near the forest of the new town on the bitter and unexpected day of August 4, 1941. And this was the end of the first chapter of the tale of the destruction of a large and glorious Jewish community…. October 15, 1942 On Monday, October 12, 1942, one of the supply inspectors told the Jewish workers, in confidence, that Ostróg would be liquidated that week. On the evening of that Monday, the local Landwirte; Komorowsi, the chief of the Gendarmerie, and [Stepan] Tkachenko, the Ukrainian commander, drove up to the Judenrat in their carriage. They summoned the head of the Judenrat, discussed some "quotidian" Jewish affairs with him, placed some new orders for furniture, and asked to have them ready by October 15. They also asked to replace the Jewish workers in [the village of] Ożenin. All this was done in a "friendly spirit", and the Landwirte even joked and told the head of the Judenrat that he was satisfied with the Jews of Ostróg, who were not nervous, and behaved calmly and with restraint. The visit, which had been staged with fiendish cunning, was over, and the reassured Jews of Ostróg went to sleep in peace and quiet. On the next day, they awoke and prepared for an ordinary workday. The Jewish women were the first out, to clean the streets, but they found the ghetto under lock and key, being guarded by militiamen who prevented anyone from getting out. The women told the Judenrat members what was going on, and when the latter asked the militiamen at to the meaning of this, they received the evasive answer: "We don’t know."… The purpose of yesterday's visit and the visitors' unctuous words suddenly became clear to all, but it was already too late, as the ghetto was sealed. A great confusion broke out, with frightened people rushing about and trying to hide. Meanwhile, the policemen stood calmly at their posts beyond the ghetto fence. At 8 AM, Commander Komorowski came over to the Judenrat and conveyed the following order to its head: By midday, all Jews were to assemble in the courtyard beyond the "Tartak" (sawmill), and each Jew was to bring along enough provisions for two days. Any Jew found hiding after this time would be shot on the spot. The Landwirte came immediately afterward and demanded all the lists of residents and the Jewish workers. From the Judenrat, the visitors drove to "inspect" the site. Without having been forced to by the killers, the unresisting Jews went to the killing place, to their own funeral. It was dreadful to see a crowd of people walking willingly to their doom!... The members of the Judenrat – including its head, Avraham Komendant – headed the procession. Behind them came the rest of the community of Ostróg. Fathers and mothers carried their children in their own arms, weeping bitterly over the coming destruction…. The "voluntary" procession went on until midday. Some went back home to bring food, unhindered, while others changed their minds and hid away. Only after midday did the Ukrainian militia assume command of the "aktion" [murder operation]. The [Ukrainian] policemen broke into the ghetto like wild animals and began to search through the houses. Any person they found was either shot on the spot or taken to the killing site under a hail of blows. There were some escape attempts from the closed courtyard, but the would-be fugitives were caught and shot on the spot. In this way, the Jews of Ostróg passed the day of October 13, 1942, until the fall of a rainy, cold, and dark autumn night, when the angel of death spread his black wings over them. Here and there, one could hear the groans of the sick and the sighs of the mothers, who were vainly trying to calm their frightened, sobbing children. The dreadful night ended, and the morning of Wednesday dawned. The Jews, who were now looking forward to their deaths, wished to know what the executioners were waiting for. The latter cunningly replied that they were going to carry out a selection, and the Jews capable of work would be let go. But the truth was that the butchers were then busy exterminating the Jews in the other towns of Volhynia, and the Jews of Ostróg were to be murdered last. Out of sheer cruelty, the killers had rounded up the Jews of Ostróg three days ahead of time, to prevent escape. Indeed, in the 20th century, when people rack their brains in an attempt to ease the agony of dangerous murderers who have been sentenced to death, and try come up with humane methods of animal slaughter, 3,000 innocent Jews – men, women, and children; sick and elderly – were rounded up, in the full knowledge of the horrible death that awaited them, and forced to endure a death agony for three days and two nights…. On Wednesday, October 14, 1942, the executioners finally arrived. The Landwirte called [Avraham] Komendant over and told him, as a cynical ploy, that the Jews would be allowed to go home if they handed over any valuables they still possessed, but they had to work hard! The SS men selected a few Jews, including me, and ordered us to make a round of the victims and record any possessions they had left. When the list had been compiled, the five of us were sent to the ghetto, along with guards from the Gendarmerie, to gather up the things. All day, we went through the ghetto, retrieving various objects from the hiding places and loading them onto two cars – apart from the things that the Germans had appropriated and distributed to the Ukrainians. When everything was ready, Komendant asked for us to be returned to the place where the other Jews were. However, I had gotten an odd hint from the words spoken by the chief of the murderers to the Landwirte, referring to us. It was not hard to guess what he had in mind. The Landwirte passed the order on to the Ukrainian policemen and left the area. We begged the Ukrainians to let us part from our loved ones and die together with everyone else, but they turned a deaf ear to our pleas and requests. Instead, they had us – Avraham Komendant, Moshe Hess, Zyama Brandzolis, and me (the fifth one had been called away by a gendarme at the time) – line up against the wall of the Big Synagogue of the Maharsha. They ordered us to face the wall and began to count: One, two…. Before they could get to "three", I tore myself away from the wall and ran away! After the events of that day, I never returned to the courtyard. Only a week later, when I had finally managed to leave the ghetto area, did I learn the details of the final massacre of the Jews of Ostróg in the forest of the new town on October 15, 1942. I heard them from a Polish woman, who was relying on the testimony of Koleshe the engineer, who had supervised the digging of the mass graves and the burial of the martyrs. The person in charge of the overall execution was Komorowski the gendarme. Along with twenty SS men, who bore black insignia and golden eagles on their sleeves ("the Black Army"), he had tortured and murdered the victims with great cruelty.…

…On August 4, 1941, the ghetto [sic] was surrounded by large squads of Germans and Ukrainian auxiliary policemen.… The murder operation commenced at dawn. Germans and Ukrainians were breaking into the Jewish houses, driving the people out of their beds. Patients were carried out of the hospital on stretchers. The sounds of wailing and bitter crying [were heard] all around. All [the Jews] were driven out of their homes; no one was left indoors. The Germans and Ukrainian policemen were carrying out the operation quickly and mercilessly, beating [the Jews] up and pushing them around brutally. We were taken to the new section of the town [i.e., the "nowe miejsce"], and we stood there until 4 PM. Our hearts were gripped with terror. The Jews were voicing different opinions, [stating that] perhaps the killers wished only to plunder Jewish property, and that we would be released when they finished their "work". At the same time, there were rumors that the Germans had decided to liquidate all the sick and elderly people. The selection began. The Germans divided all the people into two groups. No one knew what the Germans were going to do to the Jews [standing] in [these] two groups. We stood there, waiting with trepidation for what would come next. We were surrounded from all sides, with Germans and Ukrainian auxiliary policemen running about, watching the process. At the last minute, my father had decided to join the group of sick individuals, assuming that the Germans wouldn't harm the sick ones and hoping to save himself in this way. Unfortunately, he was wrong: All the sick and elderly persons were taken to the murder site and shot [there]. My beloved father was among the victims. This was the last time I saw him.…