Part I

I was born the second child to my parents, Aron Baruch and Chaya-Laja Birenbaum-Gutman on the 31st of March 1920 (Jewish date 9th day of Nisan). The circumcision (Bris) took place on the 3rd day of Passover in Radom, Poland. My sister, Rajzl, was two years older than myself. On October 2, 1922, Jacob (Yakov-Itzchak) was born and my mother gave birth on April 5, 1925 to the last of the four siblings: Eliahu (Elek). We lived on Malczewskiego 17 until 1941.

Our father was a very learned man, but could not continue with his Jewish studies due to the passing of his father, Jacov-Itzchak, and for lack of funds. He was from Sienno, a small village near Ostrowiec. He planned to become a ritual slaughterer (Shoichet), but on his way to Warsaw (Warszawa), the capital of Poland, where he should have met with his friend, my father’s funds ran short and he was forced to take up a trade. He became a cutter of hard leather (soles for shoes). As long as I can remember, he worked most of his time at the company of Avrumele Goldberg, Zeromskiego 9. This was a large courtyard joining Malczewskiego 6. The company resided in and manufactured shoes on the same premises. They occupied the first floor facing the "Sad Okregowy" regional court on Zeromskiego. When Avrumele Goldberg died, his sons Yoine, Kalman and Hillel continued the manufacturing.

This long courtyard where we lived was a horse stable during the Russian occupation of Poland before and during World War I. After Poland’s independence, the stables were transformed into living quarters where we rented one room. This served as kitchen, dining room, living room and bedrooms combined.

Due to the fact that my father, always talking with people, gave parables of the Torah, he was called by his nickname Aron Toire Kop (Aron Torah Head). He was a very active member in the Gemilat Chesed Kase (Free Loan Association). Many times when he came home for lunch (which was one hour), needy people waited for him to discuss their loan applications so that he could help them to get the loans faster or learn how to apply for a loan. For the high Holidays, he volunteered, together with Mr. Sandel, to conduct the services, including reading the Torah and blowing the Shofar. We paid for the seats like anybody else and the income went to Beit Yesomim Moishev Z’Keinim Orphanage and Old Age Home which was located in two buildings. My bube, grandmother Mindel from my father’s side, had to leave and sell her home in Sienno because she needed eye surgery in Warsaw. After her recovery, with one eye only, she stayed with uncle David Gutman in Radom. She died in the early 1930s. Uncle David, who was married to Surke, was a carpenter where my brother Jacob worked as an apprentice. At the liquidation of the large ghetto in Radom, August 16 and 17, 1942, they had three children, Heniek, Baltsie and Elchanan. None of them survived the war. My father’s second brother, Toivie, was married to Hinde and had four children, Yacov, Elie, Wigder (I cannot remember the name of the youngest girl). He was a shoemaker and also lived in Radom. My Bube and Zaide on my mother’s side, Hersh-Laib Birenbaum, and his wife Sureh also lived in Radom on Staromiejska St. with my aunt Sheva. She was married to Noote and had one son, Chaim Sucher, who had the same name as me. We were named after my uncle who had died at the young age of 21. Only a few months after my uncle’s passing, my mother gave birth and named me after him. My mother’s youngest sister Ruchl was also married and lived in a small town near Ostrowiec.

My father was born in 1889. He received a Jewish religious education, studying in a yeshiva. He loved people and was involved in Jewish organizations obtaining help for the less fortunate. He was a very dedicated, loving husband and father: gentle, understanding, patient and sociable. For his children, he was an educator and teacher. Just looking at him for the first time, one had the impression that one knew him a very long time. His eyes showed his character. For as long as I remember, he was bald and a bit chubby. Looking at his picture as a teenager with his traditional chasidic garb, he was not heavy at all. It seems he gained weight after he married my mother, who was nine years his junior.

Before the First World War, Poland was under Russian occupation. In 1920, when Poland became independent, the Polish language was a necessity, so my father learned Polish. I still remember the scrapbooks where he wrote his lessons. As a father, he was very patient with us. He seldom raised his voice and rarely punished us with spankings. He believed that telling and explaining was more beneficial than hitting. He was very patient in explaining questions asked by his children. When I was about four years old, there were guests in the house and I asked my father what time it was. He asked me if I would like to look at a watch and know the time by myself. "Sure," I said. So he explained how I could learn. "A minute has 60 seconds. If you divide in four, it is 15 because 4 x 15 = 60. Every number there on the watch is five minutes. When the big finger (hand) is on twelve and the small finger is on the one, it is one o’clock. When the small finger is on the four, it is four o’clock. When the big finger is on the three and the small finger after the one, it is fifteen past one," and so on. This was the way I learned how to tell time. He used the same method to explain many other things. He also used language that was understandable to the person. Education, especially Jewish education, was very important for my parents to give to their children. The boys were sent to cheder (school for religious education) at a very young age. Before we went to public school at age 7, we attended cheder mornings and afternoons. When we started public school, we attended half a day and the second half was spent in cheder. After supper, we did our homework.

My mother was an excellent balebuste (housekeeper) and cook, always started from scratch and turned out a very tasty and nourishing meal. The preparation for Shabbat was very special. Thursday was the market day. Farmers came from around the town with all kinds of merchandise for sale, for example, chickens, fruits and vegetables. They put up booths, just like at a flea market. The same was with fishers and other merchants. Our mother, like many other ladies, went to the market to buy fresh vegetables, live chickens and fish. The chicken was to be taken to the shoichet (ritual slaughterer), then she cleaned the feathers. The beautiful smell Friday from baking chala and other pastries was so delightful that even before coming into the house we could smell the goodies.

Every Friday morning before our father went to work and the boys to school, we went to the Mikva, or ritual bath, as a preparation for Shabbat. Friday evenings, rain or shine, before lighting the Shabbat candles, we dressed accordingly and went for Shabbat prayers, usually on Koszarowa 4. This was a Beit Hamedrash (a prayer house for neighbourhood people) during the day it was a cheder.

Shalom Alechem was said after returning from Beit Hamedrash and a festive meal consumed. We then sang Zmires which are special songs for Friday. Between the six of us, father, mother, and four siblings, we had a wonderful choir. Many times, neighbours stood behind the window admiring how beautifully we sang. Saturday mornings we went to Rebbe Reb Moishele on Starokrakowska. Two large rooms of his living quarters were designated for prayers and it was always full of worshippers. The most enjoyable time the children had was Simchas Torah. Every child had a flag with a red apple on top and a lit candle in the apple.

For attending cheder, the melamed (teacher) made a contract every half year. He came to our house to discuss the contract. It was signed for the Zman (half a year). Usually, it was done on Chol Hamoed, Pesach and Succos.
It was almost a tradition every Sunday that our father checked what we had learned during the week. Usually it was a chapter of Chumash after the meal, and zmires and saying grace.

Although our father was a very religious man, he read aloud to us from books of Jewish classics, such as Mendele Mocher Sfurim, I.L. Peretz, and Sholom Alecheim. The Folkszeitung daily newspaper and Radomer Kielcer Leibn on the weekends was a must. Because time for reading was scarce, he used to read part of it walking home for lunch and while returning to work.

Our mother was a beautiful lady in both looks and character. She was about 5 feet one inch tall, slim, with brown eyes and curly hair. She was born in Kasanev. Mother had very close friends residing in Radom. One in particular was Pearl Dina Krongold. We used to visit them very often and they also visited us. They lived on Mleczna Street. During the war, they lived with us for a while in the ghetto in one room and a small foyer, Pearl Dina, her husband, two children and her mother. Our mother was very dedicated to her children and our father. When we were sick, special care was given to us by our mother. She cooked special food for us, gave us medication on time, just like a trained nurse. In the winter, before we went to school, a hot meal was waiting for us. Love for family was installed in us from a very young age, as well as helping others. She was loved by everyone who knew her. Her love for us shone from her eyes. There was always ways of finding solutions for problems arising in daily life. Seldom did she raise her voice to us, although I am sure we were not angels. If our mother could not settle problems she left them to our father. Besides all her love and dedication to family and friends, she was an excellent Balebuste. Balebuste means manager, housekeeper, mother, educator, nurse, cook, etc. On other words, a domestic engineer. For this, one has to have a born intelligence that our mother was blessed with.

As young children, we had no worries. Once we grew a bit older, we realized the differences between rich and poor. We did not have toys. We made a ball from rags and played with it. We were taught from a young age that we could not compare ourselves to rich children. What their parents could afford, we could not. We learned to keep our dignity. When we were in their homes and asked is we were hungry, although we could be lacking the goodies they served their children, the answer was always "no thank you, I am not hungry." I must have been about four years old when we visited our friend Hitzl, the younger sister of Pearl Dina, on Shavuot. When she started to serve tea and baked goods, she asked us what we would like and mentioned what she had prepared. I ventured to ask for cheesecake, which she had not mentioned.

When I was still a child, there were times when father was making a nice living and mother had domestic help. For winter, our parents prepared potatoes and coal. It was placed, especially the coal, nicely flat under the bed. We were well dressed and always wore comfortable shoes that were made to measure. Because my father worked in the shoe industry, he had the opportunity to have the merchandise and the labour at a reasonable price. Much of that changed in the early 1930s when there was a stock market crash the world over. The good years almost came to an end. We encountered hard times and sometimes very hard times. Father had to change jobs and often had only part-time work. The savings were practically finished. Even food became scarce. To keep their dignity, my parents never showed that they were lacking things. I remember distinctly that when there was nothing to put in the pot to cook for Shabbat, mother boiled only water, just in case a neighbour opened the door, they could see that something was cooking.

My sister Raizl, like all of us, was not very tall. She was about five feet two inches, had a beautiful face and figure, blonde curly hair, grey eyes and a light complexion. She was a very pleasant person to be with. After finishing public school, she started to work as a shirt maker and began earning wages, it became a bit easier for my parents to manage because of her contribution. The circle of friends she had was made up of girls and boys of the working middle class. Most of them belonged to different political organisations. No one in this group attended high school, college or university. One had to belong to a Zionist or leftist organization, and also go to libraries, to make up for the knowledge one did not get in one’s education.

As a youngster still attending public school, I belonged to Hashomer Hatzair, later, as a teenager to left Poalei-Zion. Hashomer Hatzair was the first introduction to information about Zionism and the Jewish homeland. Through songs and lectures, I learned about Herzl, Nordau and other Zionist leaders, as well as Hachshara, Palestine, Biluim and Kibbutzim. Books, book reviews and Jewish daily newspapers also furthered my education. In 1932, at the age of 14, after finishing only six grades of public school (public school was seven grades), my mother became ill with typhus and I was not permitted to attend school for more than three months. I had to repeat my 5th grade. My father arranged for me to become a tailor at Ladies Coats and Suits owned by Mr. Shloime Fishman on Zeromskiego 9, the same courtyard where my father worked. The apprenticeship would last three years. I earned no wages. Every six months, I received a small honorarium. But I learned the trade. The only pocket money I had came from delivering ready garments to customers, for which I got tips. From those tips, I contributed to the household. It was definitely not much. Between my sister and myself, plus father’s earnings, we managed frugally. The stock market crash of the late twenties and early thirties which started in the Unites States affected the whole world. Naturally, Poland was no exception. Layoffs and unemployment grew. Finding work was hard, even for experienced workers like my father. He lost his job at the Goldberg’s on Teromskiego 9 where he had worked for many, many years. One of the Goldberg brothers, Hillel, opened a shoe factory and father started with him, but for a short time, as a full-time worker. Part-time was not easy to find. Savings diminished and times became more difficult.

In 1938, father developed heart problems. The same year, my sister Raizl became engaged to Josef Wiatrak from Jedlinsk (Yedlinsk). Jedlinsk was about ten kilometres from Radom. Josef was a contractor for the Goldbergs, where my father worked. My bube from mother’s side died in our house January 1, 1938, but the zaide was living in Radom. I went for him to be present at the engagement which took place in our home, and a date for the wedding was decided. On Thursday night, February 21, 1939, before going to bed, father said he could not go to Mitvah. I was awakened half an hour later to run for a doctor. When Jacob and I arrived with the doctor, it was too late to save my father. He had died of a massive heart attack. Friday, February 22, 1939 was the date of his funeral. The courtyard of Malesewskiego17 was full of people who knew him, family and friends. Before the funeral took place, Raizl’s fiancé made a promise that the wedding would take place at the arranged date. A few months after my father’s death, the wedding ceremony was performed. The Chupa was in the house of the Kuper family. He was the Cantor of the "City Beith Hamedrash". The reception was in our home and in the Kuper’s home. We lived on the same long corridor. They moved to Yedlinsk and had one son, Aron. None of them survived.

From Germany, the speeches from Hitler, Goebbels and others indicated a war was near. Nobody expected such a tragedy where one third of the Jewish population would be annihilated.

A few months before the outbreak of the Second World War, after Shabbat services, Yoine Goldberg, the eldest son of Avrumele, told us that he envied our father’s passing. When we asked what he meant (why envy a dead person), he replied, "your father was buried according to the Jewish law, where or how I’ll be buried, I don’t know." He did not survive.

There was no inheritance after my father’s passing. Mother did laundry for other people and all of us helped as much as possible. On September 1, 1939, Germany invaded Poland. Eight days later, Radom was occupied. Soon after the German occupation, on orders of the Gauleither, a Jewish Committee and Jewish police force were formed, obeying orders of the German government. Their main concern was the Jewish population. They needed people to do all kinds of hard labour, so each day a quota of Jews had to report to the Jewish Committee. They were then assigned to different destinations to work. In most cases, a Jewish policeman took them to the work place. It also happened that when there were not enough Jews for the assigned work (if it was the SS) they came to the city with trucks and grabbed any Jew, young or old, loaded them into trucks and drove them to the work place. Rich people did not go to work: instead they hired others to go in their place. My brother Jacob and I were replacements. This helped us to survive until we were able to get a steady job with the SS in T.V.L. (Truppenwirtschafts Lager der Waffen SS) on Kolejowa 18 in the woodworking shop. Jacob was a carpenter; I was a tailor. We had a cooked meal (Mrs. Schöchter and Mrs. Sztarkman were cooks) daily five times a week. We didn’t work on Saturdays or Sundays. We also had a privilege at the baker to get a quarter of bread early in the morning before we went to work. This helped our mother and our youngest brother Elek in the ghetto.

The ghetto was established on April 8, 1941. Elek worked in a barber shop on Zgodna Street. From Keljowa 18, I had the opportunity to take an occasional sack of wood shavings and pieces of wood home to the ghetto. The shavings were not in the centre of the sack, so that when the guard checked the sack, he could not feel bigger pieces of wood. It was approximately a 7 _ to 8 kilometre walk. Most of the work in T.V.L. was blue-collar work. The T.V.L. was a warehouse of food that supplied the SS army of Radom district. When transports of food had to be unloaded from the train, including barrels and crates, 100kg sacks of potatoes or bales of pressed straw, these workers had to do it. When they did not have enough blue collar workers, carpenters, tailors and shoemakers were called upon to assist. Because of this, the SS would drive down to the city and catch Jews for work. Many times they caught religious people with beards and earlocks, or others who were unable to carry heavy loads on their backs. The oxtail whip went to work. Kicking and beating was normal procedure. The Orthodox Jews were treated the worse. The SS would make a circle of all the workers and watch how they cut off half a beard with a bayonet, many times with a piece of skin attached. They forced them to sing and dance and there was nothing we could do to help. I recall one case when Oberscharführer Pömüler hit someone with the edge of a shovel for being unable to work fast enough. The T.V.L. was considered the worse working place in Radom. When Kolejowa 18 became too small for their needs, they moved on Podjazdowa just across the train tracks. They took over Bakman’s mill and an adjoining house for their workers accommodations. In 1943, the T.V.L. became a concentration camp. My number was 1640. Before it became a K.Z., Jacob and I used to save food from our cooked meals and very early in the morning, I used to go home through the fence with a container of food and still be back in time for work. There was not a chance to do the same from the K.Z. The German police from a tower outside the fenced gate guarded our living quarters. After the evening roll call, the gate was closed.
We were approximately eighty people—prisoners—all with different trades, including auto mechanics, painters, carpenters, electricians, tailors, shoemakers, cooks and glaziers. All of us had more than enough work to do for the soldiers and their families. In the carpenter shop, we made many wooden crates to be shipped to their families with looted merchandise. Some worked in the warehouse filling food orders for the SS, some worked in Lehrgut, receiving boxes of empty bottles and stocking them. Most of the workers were loading and unloading which was hard physical work. A few women worked in the kitchen.

On Saturdays, we were usually sent to a public bath in the Staromiejska St., across from the Jewish hospital. We were taken by a Jewish policeman who afterwards took us to the ghetto to see our families. Through different channels, we found out that there was to be an aussiedlung (evacuation). The Saturday before the evacuation, Jacob received permission to bring our youngest brother Elek to the T.V.L. We saw our mother for the last time that Saturday, August 15, 1942. The liquidation of the large ghetto was August 16 and 17, 1942. With tears in my eyes, I said goodbye, not knowing for sure if this would be the last time.

Elek was only 17 when he came to work in the T.V.L. Each group of workers had his own SS man as a meister (manager). We had Pitasch, a Czech volksdeutsche. Elek had Scharführer Gumpinger. After work, he would call Elek to shine his boots. This continued for a long time without any incidents. Mornings, before starting work, and evenings, before finishing work, we had roll calls. After the roll call, the gate to our living quarters was closed. On one particular evening before roll call, Elek came running in and told us that Gumpinger, while he was very drunk, had accused Elek of stealing his cigarettes. Elek explained that neither he or his brothers smoked and he had no reason to take his cigarettes.

Gumpinger could not hear what Elek was saying and started to beat him when Elek ran out. Some of the boys were still unloading, so they were counted in while making the roll call. Gumpinger called him the "kleiner Gutman" (the small short Gutman). When Elek went out of the column to face him, he asked Elek to follow him outside the gate into a closed room and started to beat him with an oxtail whip. I heard the whip striking and I told Jacob that I was going to run out of the column to save Elek. When I came to open the door, it opened and Elek ran out. Gumpinger could not walk straight and when the boys who worked at loading or unloading the train came to the quarters, the gate was locked and nobody had the right to make another roll call. Gumpinger did not obey the rule. He came back after supper and called another roll call. The police guard opened the gate. We saw who was calling the roll call and Elek became petrified and did not want to go down. He was persuaded by us to come down, since if he missed the roll call and Gumpinger found him, he might kill him. We went down together and when Gumpinger called the "kleiner Gutman" Jacob went out of the column to face him. He said, "I don’t want you," and hit him with the oxtail. The same thing happened the second time. At the third time, when Gumpinger started to hit Jacob, I ran out of the column, grabbed the oxtail from Gumpinger’s hand and threw it over the fence. The guard in the tower, seeing what was going on, stood ready with his machine gun to shoot. He called his post and within seconds, a few police guards were in our quarters. One of the guards held on to me. I was sure that was my end. The police guard set me free when Gumpinger was escorted from our living quarters. Next morning, while I was going to bring water to dissolve the glue bars (which were put into a container and the container was immersed in boiling water which then dissolved the glue), Gumpinger saw me and called me to follow him into the garage. When Jacob looked out the window and saw that I was following Gumpinger to the garage, he called me to return to the carpenter shop, which I did. When Gumpinger turned around and saw me going in the opposite direction to the carpenter shop, he came after me and wanted to hit me with his oxtail. We were on opposite sides of the bench and I managed to avoid him by staying far away long enough so that he could not hit me. Jacob, seeing what was happening, ran tot he office of Obersturmführer Lorenzen and told him the story. He described how Gumpinger was disturbing our work. Lorenzen left his office and came with Jacob to the carpenter shop. He arrived quickly enough to see Gumpinger and myself still running around the bench. Lorenzen ordered Gumpinger to leave and within a week we heard that Gumpinger was sent to the Eastern front. This was the last time we heard about him. I am sure that he was sent to the Eastern front because he disobeyed orders rather than beating Jews. We remained in T.V.L. until we were transferred to Szkolna which was an ammunitions factory where Jewish K.Z. inmates were working. We did not work outside the camp.

The only incident I had with Jewish inmates was in T.V.L. with Brener. He was working as an auto mechanic. He had his hands tattooed while serving in the Foreign Legion. He was approximately six feet tall and about 200 pounds. After roll call in the evening, we received our bread portions and a cooked meal. This particular day, I was the first to ask for my bread portion. Brener did not like the idea of distributing the bread before everybody was assembled. An argument developed and he grabbed a kitchen knife and tried to stab me. I moved my body to the left and with my right hand I caught his right hand with the knife. I received a small cut near my elbow, which is still visible. A few of the boys intervened and held Brener back. No complaints were made to the authorities and no other incidents occurred.

Around the end of July or August 1942, after the day’s work and roll call, I looked out the window facing the railway tracks and I noticed a train with cattle cars and windows with barbed wire. Suddenly, I heard a woman screaming to the Polish railway workers near the tracks--in Polish--"Moje dziecko umiera zaplace 100 zlotych za butelke wody." (my child is dying. I’ll pay 100 zlotys for a bottle of water.) None of the Polish workers were willing to help when all it required was filling a bottle with tap water to save a child’s life. This was, and still is, the nature of Poles. There were some exceptions where people risked their lives to save Jews. When I heard the woman’s scream, it sounded very familiar. I am almost sure it was my sister’s voice begging to save her son’s life.
Two more episodes occurred that I would like to mention. One in T.V.L., the other in Hessenthal. After the roll call, we were confined to our quarters in T.V.L. A few of the boys, Jacob, Moishe Fishman, Salber, myself, and two others were sitting and reminiscing about our loved ones, the situation we were in, our future, and a question arose, namely, "what do we do, assuming we survive, we get married, have children, and if some of the children are boys, do we circumcise them?" Some believed that, because we, as Jews, suffered through history from persecution, we would not like our children to also suffer. We should not circumcise our boys. The others believed that, in spite of all this suffering, including pogroms in our times, we survived as Jews when other nations disappeared. Thus, we should continue to circumcise our boys and as Jews, we would continue to survive. Little did we know that a third of our nation, six million men, women and children, would perish under such horrible circumstances.

The second incident occurred in K.Z. Hessenthal. Physically, we worked very hard and were very poorly nourished. Many, due to malnutrition, had to go to the so-called hospital in the camp. One barrack was designated for this purpose, although it had very little medication available. Because of this, we had many deaths. We did not work Sundays. Our camp guards, the SS, wanted to have a little fun. They assembled the häftlinge (inmates), cut a bread in portions and threw it to the hungry wolves. They degraded us to such a degree that we did not think rationally. On the third week of such a spectacle, I became tempted and caught a portion of bread. Once I had it in my hand, a group of inmates pushed me to the ground and what remained was what I could hold in my fist. The balance was taken away. This was the first and last time I dared try to get an extra portion of bread. One of our inmates, a Radomer, Moishe Kirshenblat, began a campaign to refuse to give the SS the satisfaction of degrading us by forcing us to lose our dignity. This we should not do under any circumstances. If we have to survive, we will without the few crumbs we keep in our fists. It helped and each week, fewer inmates assembled at the whim of the SS.

We were evacuated in July 1944 by foot to Tomaszow Maswieck to a former silk factory where we remained for about a week and then transported by train in cattle wagons to Auschwitz (Oswiecim). We were forced to go through a selection done by the infamous Dr. Mengele, and then continued to Vahingen-Enz. We were the last Jews of Radom to be evacuated. Marching through the streets of Radom, we could see the hatred in the eyes of the Poles and their satisfaction to see the last of the Jews go. We were their neighbours and friends. We were born, raised and helped develop industries (mainly tanneries), active in art, culture, professions, etc., and we were betrayed.

I wore shoes with wooden soles. Because it was hot and very difficult to walk, I removed the shoes and walked barefoot. Pounding the road barefoot, I developed problems with my ankles. I had the feeling that they were broken and I couldn’t walk. My two brothers, Jacob and Elek, dragged me for about two days until I was able to march by myself. Thanks to them, I survived. Behind the marchers drove a horse and carriage picking up the sick and those unable to walk. It filled up very quickly and when they reached the nearest forest; they drove in and shot all the Jews. I was ready to give up, but Jacob and Elek said they would continue to drag me until I improved. At night, we rested in fields or in farmers’ barns and continued on in the morning. We marched for eight days until we reached Tomaszow-Mazowieck. Men were separated from the women. The men went to the former silk factory and the women to the jail. The silk factory was one big room with no washroom facilities. There were holes in the floor to relieve oneself. The smell was unbearable, although those who were near the exit had it a bit better. Water was scarce, food even more so. The rest gave me an opportunity to heal my ankles. After eight days, packed like sardines in cattle cars, we arrived in Auschwitz. The Goldberg Family, for whom my father used to work, was in our car. One of the Goldberg brothers, Kalman, had heart problems before the war and his hair was grey. When people noticed that we were on our way to Auschwitz, Kalman Goldberg asked Elek if he would shave his head, which Elek did.

On our arrival at Auschwitz, we were greeted with an orchestra playing classical music, with a sign on the front gate, Arbeit Macht Frei (work liberates) and a selection. During my apprenticeship, I took evening courses pertaining to my trade. One of our teachers was Mrs. Woolf. We marched together on the way to Tomaszow. She was with her husband and a son of about 9 or 10 years old. When we were ordered out of the train cars by Germans accompanied by dogs--German shepherds--women, children, old people and able-bodied people were separated. There were a few trucks standing nearby. When Mengele was making the selection of "who should live and who should die" with his right hand in his white coat near his breast button and only the move of his right thumb--right or left deciding the fate of each individual. Mrs. Woolf’s son was on one of the waiting trucks, together with other children crying desperately to be with the separated parents. Our train car was nearby and I heard this boy Woolf saying to the other children, "Don’t cry, do you want your parents to suffer even more than they do?" I also saw Mr. Piotr Frenkel, a Radomer philanthropist, carrying a young crying child on to the truck and staying with him on the truck, which probably took them to the gas chambers and crematorium. Our group, which came already from a concentration camp (K.Z.), being able to work, we were sent back to the cars. We received a portion of bread and salami and were sent to Germany to a K.Z. called Vaihingen-Enz near Stuttgart. We had practically no food the first two weeks. In the morning, we had coffee, dirty water, and in the evening, we had soup. Where there was a potato peel, it was a thick soup. Most of us worked in a quarry laying tracks to the stone mill or mining and loading stones on wagons to the mill. The work was physically very hard for undernourished people; it was slave labour. Those who had a chance on the way to and from work to run out of the column and grab an apple were the lucky ones. There was one group of inmates who worked at a Von’s place (nobleman’s estate) and were treated humanely. They had an opportunity to bring some food to the camp, which was officially forbidden, and share it with others. Before entering the camp, we were checked by the guards who were German SS soldiers and a Jewish capo. Most of the time, the capo was Felek. Felek knew which of the boys was bringing in food. Many times, he was the one who checked them and let them through. When the soldiers checked and found what they brought in, beatings followed. Elek and I were on a day shift, Jacob on night shifts.

One day, returning to the camp from work, I was told that Elek was assigned to a different camp and was to be transported in two days. Without hesitation, I registered to go with Elek with no idea what kind of camp it was, where it was, or what kind of work would be expected of us. Due to our upbringing, we took care of each other wherever possible. For instance, when I mended socks for one of the soldiers and received a piece of bread, or Elek shaved someone and got something to eat, or Jacob, from his Meister boss, received an apple or a sandwich, we always shared with one another. When one of us felt weaker than the others, the weaker one got the better part of food, a larger portion of bread or a thicker soup. On the way to and from work, we always met and arranged to be on the same side to be able to share with each other. I will never forget one particular episode. I was working with a group laying railings. Sugar beets were growing nearby on a field. The first opportunity I had, together with another inmate, we ran to the field to pick a sugar beet. I managed to get one and come back alive, the other inmate was shot and killed. We divided the bread portion, half for the evening, and a thick slice of beet for us as long as it lasted.

One of our former neighbours on Malczewskiego 17 in Radom, Leibl Zylberman, wanted to help us with bread so that, perhaps, we could bribe the capos and remain in that camp. I refused. Do not resist your destiny. I told him, "this is our destiny, so be it." After his shift, Jacob joined us and we were transported to Hessenthal where we worked building runways for Messerschmitt airplanes. The Lager älteste camp chief capo was a man from Budzin and naturally the people from his town were privileged to have the best working positions outside the camp. They also had an opportunity to bring in food to the camp to share with others. As in the previous camp, we were checked at the gate by the guard. It happened that some inmates were given lashes as punishment. To avoid having them badly hurt, Felek volunteered to give the lashes, as he would be able to make it less painful. After only 2-3 lashes, Felek let them run away with whatever they brought in. For that he was loved. In 1945, he came for a visit to the D.P. camp in Feldafing where I was living. In many cases, when a former capo was recognized they were beaten by their former inmates and lucky to escape alive. That was not the case with Felek. He was guarded by those who were with him in the camps in order to keep him safe.

From Hessenthal, we were evacuated to Allach-Dachau. Allach was a part of Dachau K.Z. Lager. Jacob developed health problems and had to go to the camp hospital. We were forced to leave this camp due to the advancing Allied armies. We lined up and were ready to be loaded to the cattle train when Jacob ran out of the hospital and joined Elek and I to remain together. On the train, he cleaned the wound on his right hand with gauze taken from the hospital. The order was to transport us to the Tyrol mountains and be shot. They were unable to do this. We were travelling off some course to avoid the Allies and did not reach the Tyrols. On April 30th, 1945, we were liberated in Staltach near Tutzing Obberbayern. Jacob, Elek and I survived together and received food packages from the Red Cross for the first time since being interned in the camps. The train we were travelling in consisted of Army guards and heftlings (K.Z. inmates). The last wagon had food provisions. Some of the former inmates, including myself, managed to climb up the wagon and distribute bread, jam, cans of preserves, etc. Those who could control themselves and understood that after being undernourished for years, one should not begin to eat everything, especially fatty foods in large amounts, did not become ill. There was no advice from the Red Cross to be careful about eating what was in their packages. What should we eat and not eat after opening the packages in the state we were in? Many got sick from diarrhoea and died.

One week after liberation, we were beaten with a handgun by an American soldier and thrown out of the place we were staying with a German family with two teenage girls. The girls were girlfriends of the soldiers. We came to a D.P. (Displaced Persons) Camp in Feldafing. This had been used as a training camp for HitlerJugend. In order that it should not be bombed by the Allied Armies, all the roofs were marked with Red Crosses. On the way to Feldafing, we met many Radomer survivors who also knew about other Radomer friends who had survived and their whereabouts. One of the many was Fishel Goldstein. Philip, now residing in Washington, D.C., was also in Feldafing. There were lists posted outside the office telling us who was residing in Feldafing and other D.P. camps. Those who found families or friends travelled to meet them and be with them.

News reached my brother Jacob that his girlfriend was in Bergen-Belsen and he went looking for her, although she was not there. While he was away, Elek and I decided to go with Bricha, Jewish Palestinian soldiers serving in the English army, going via Italy and from there to Palestine, legally or illegally. No border checks were made. We stayed in the Academia military in Modena, northern Italy, where Il Duce, Benito Mussolini, used to deliver his speeches from the balcony. The Academia military was a transition camp. The committee of this camp decided to transfer Elek and I south to a kibbutz. We had a stopover in Bari, from there to Santa Maria. The road lay between the Mediterranean and our living quarters. Courses in Hebrew were given for beginners by unqualified teachers, advanced courses by teachers. Most of the free time activities were swimming, singing, and once a week, discussions on political issues. Work was mainly in the kitchen. Each kibbutz member was assigned to help out wherever necessary. There, I met Radomer survivors living in Santa Maria and the surrounding area. In the kibbutz, I also met one boy, Myer Blaiwais, who was with me in T.V.L. Radom. He now resides in Israel. What I expected was that we would receive certificates from the English government and legally enter Palestine. Some of the kibbutzniks emigrated either way.

During our stay in kibbutz, we had a few visits from Muniu Epstein, now in Australia, who had resided in Mittenwald, Germany, the same D.P. camp where Jacob lived. He persuaded us to come and reunite the family. In December 1945, we started our journey back through Italy, Austria and Germany. On the way, we met other Radomers who were taking the same route. The day before starting the journey, I swam in the Mediterranean. We had no warm clothes and did not expect cold weather going through the Alps. On the border, the entire group was arrested by the Austrian police and then released two days later. The prison walls were full of names, everyone who was arrested signed his name. There I saw many names I knew from Radom. We had no problems crossing the Austria-German border.

Mittenwald was 8 km from the Austrian border. We arrived early in the morning, white clear snow on the ground, surrounded by mountains. Stores were still closed and unable to buy anything, we picked snow instead. We were four people, Elek, me, Helen Brier and Fela Cukier, also from Radom, hungry like wolves. Upon entering Jacob’s quarters, Jacob, Bela and her sister Mania--my wife of 54 years now—were unable to fill the plates of sandwiches prepared for us.

Shortly after my arrival in Mittenwald, I began courting a young beautiful intelligent brunette one year my junior and on November 12, 1946 (Jewish date--18th day of Cheshvan 5707), we tied the knot for better or for worse. Thirteen months later we became parents to our son, Aron Baruch--names after my father--born December 11, 1947 (Jewish date—28 of Kislev 5708). On October 17, 1951 (Jewish date 16 Elul 5712), my wife gave birth to our daughter, Pearl-Lanna, names for my wife’s mother Pearl and my mother Laja. The baby was suffering from birth. Her heart, lungs, intestines were not developed properly and she was constantly at the doctor’s office. Many times, there were house visits from Dr. Hyman Wiener. On one of his house visits, he told us, "I can make a nice living from healthy children, I suffer from sick children." Our dear daughter passed away January 12, 1953 (Jewish date--25 Tevet 5713). The first terrible loss for us. Surviving the war and being able to have a child was the greatest joy for us. Suddenly and unexpectedly, she died in her carriage.

The diagnosis was crib death. By the time Dr. Wiener arrived, it was too late to revive her. Our third pregnancy ended with the birth of a boy who lived only about 1 _ hours. The doctors at the hospital did all they could, but could not keep him alive. I saw him connected with pipes while in the incubator. The doctors gave me no hope. I could not even go and see my dear Myra in her room and tell her the terrible news. The feeling of a mother going home from the hospital after delivery without her baby is impossible to describe. The inner pain and depression are common. Time, in its way, heals, but the pain cannot be forgotten.

Back to Key Words and Abstract

To Part II