FOREWORD

It is a well established fact that for many years after liberation most Holocaust survivors with very few exceptions talked very little about their ordeal during the horrible years under the Nazis.

There were of course many reasons for that voluntary silence. Although those reasons did not differ much from one survivor to the other, they were nevertheless quite personal. It all depended in the character and attitude of each individual.

It took several decades to finally break down that deafening silence. All of a sudden it seemed as if everybody started to talk at the same time. The reason for that sudden awakening was without doubt the emergence of scores of Holocaust deniers. Those self-styled so-called historians were obviously supported by various Neo-Nazi groups and other far-right organizations all over the world. To counter that shameless trend, many Holocaust survivors started to publish their memoirs which were telling the whole truth about the crimes against humanity committed by Nazi Germany.

That was the time when I decided to do my part in helping to spread the truth. I wrote my memoirs which I'm hoping to publish soon. I had also submitted two personal accounts through video tapes, one at the Montreal Holocaust Memorial Centre, and the other to Stephen Spielberg’s, "Survivors of the Shoah Visual History Foundation."

I am convinced that with better writing skills, I would have, been able to produce a better and perhaps a more understandable account of my experiences before and during WW2. However, I do believe that even with my limited skills, I am in a position to offer a truthful and detailed account of the terrible horrors and sufferings endured by hundreds of thousands of innocent and helpless Jewish men, women, and children. And indeed the suffering of my immediate family and myself.

Before I decided to put my story on paper, I realized that it won't be easy for me to re-live again the horrors of the Holocaust. However, I overcame all the hurdles without special difficulties.

Still blessed with an excellent memory, I wrote my memoirs without any or very little actual research. All my experiences up to the smallest details during the Holocaust are still clearly and vividly engraved in my mind and will remain there till the end of my days.

I sincerely hope that my graphic description of certain events will not unduly disturb the readers of my memoirs.

SOME REFLECTIONS ABOUT THE TITLE OF MY MEMOIRS

Ask any Holocaust survivor how he or she managed to survive those terrible years of confinement in ghettos and concentration camps, the most probable answer you would hear would be "Just pure luck." And indeed, they all are right.

My twin brother and I were fortunately among those (not too many) lucky ones. It was a matter of luck, of course, that my family had lived in the area where the Lodz Ghetto was later erected. This provided us with a ‘luxury’ of living in the same flat until the final liquidation of the ghetto in August of 1944.

Besides a few more strokes of luck, the greatest of which is without doubt our extreme luck to have been blessed with a loving and devoted mother during all those terrible years.

However, as you will learn while reading my memoirs, many extremely unexplainable events did happen to my brother and I which I can not simply dismiss as simple luck.

I am quite convinced that some of those events during my incarceration, especially the mysterious circumstances of my eventual liberation were much more than plain luck. I leave it however to the discretion and intelligence of my readers to arrive at their own conclusions.

It is well known that during the Holocaust some very religious Jews who were forced to witness the indescribable horrors committed against their people in general and their loved ones in particular became so disappointed that they openly turned against their beliefs in God. At the same time we learned that the opposite also occurred, although on a smaller scale.

Although as I said before, I had experienced instances of supernatural last minute rescues which only touched me personally. I did not however see any signs of that sort of help arriving for the thousands of innocent men, women, and children who perished in the gas chambers of Auschwitz and other death camps. Witnessing how many piously religious Jews and especially the thousands of innocent little children were being tormented and murdered by the Nazis without seeing the slightest sign of help from above, I kept on asking a still unanswered question: "What did I ever do in my young life to deserve such an exceptional treatment?"

While pondering a fitting title for my memoirs I also considered: "My incredible guardian angel." However, being brought up in a modern but traditional Jewish home, I tried to remain that way. Although at times during the Holocaust I sincerely believed that I was being taken care of by some sort of guardian angel, I nevertheless decided to stay away from choosing one of the two extreme positions.

I decided therefore to adopt the more logical and more fitting title: "My long road to freedom."

And since I am far from being an expert in matters of religion and spirituality, I decided to leave this aspect of my survival to people with more experience and more knowledge in these matters.

There is also another important phenomenon which was never too easy for me to fully comprehend. Namely the despicable problem of collaboration with the Nazis.

There were of course voices which tried to dismiss that painful problem with simple explanations, like for instance: "They were forced to do it," or "they tried desperately to save their lives and the lives of their families." However, I personally never believed in those utterly simplistic explanations.

Of course there must have been some cases of people being forced to do things against their will. But those in my opinion, were very isolated cases.

However I was fortunate to have seen many exemplary and human behaviours of countless Jewish policemen in the Lodz Ghetto as well as by decent capos in the concentration camps.

Therefore I am inclined to consider the few (thank God that there were only a few) bad cases of vicious behaviour of individuals dehumanized by the circumstances, including some in highly powerful positions, as sick people.

Therefore I sincerely believe that also this problem should be left to be assessed by trained professionals, like psychiatrists, and psychologists.

Chapter 1

THE YEARS BEFORE W.W.2

Shortly before the outbreak of World War 2, I had finished my seventh year of public school. This particular period, I consider the best years of my young life. Not to forget, of course, the many happy memories of my early childhood, which are still solidly engraved in my mind.

I vividly remember my first Hebrew lesson while sitting on my teacher’s lap. I must have been only four years old at the time. when a private teacher, a relative of our landlord taught me the first letters of the Hebrew alphabet.

I was born, raised, and lived in the same one room apartment on the Zydowska street, Number 25, until the final liquidation of the Lodz ghetto, in August of 1944.

Although the correct translation of the street name was the Jewish street, to the Jewish population of Lodz, it was simply known as "Mordechai-Gabos" street, fondly named after the late beloved Gabay of the great old-city synagogue.The synagogue, a large highly impressive structure, stood majestically on the Wolborska street, a short walk from our residence.

I still remember the saturday mornings leaving my father inside the crowded sanctuary, and running outside with a bunch of friends, to watch with pride the arrival of groups of Jewish soldiers from the twenty eighth Kaniowski infantry division which was stationed in Lodz. In order to keep them from leaving the synagogue on their own, they were usually escorted by a non-Jewish corporal or other non-commissioned officer.

Moshe, my oldest brother was not yet ten, and Isaak, about seven when my twin brother and myself were born.

When I was old enough to ask why I was named Benjamin, I received an answer which was not fully understandable to me at the time. "Having already two sons, your mother and I were actually aiming for a girl, but instead God blessed us with two more beautiful sons. But since I was officially the youngest (by only fifteen minutes), I was named Benjamin after the youngest son of the patriarch Jacob.

Unfortunately at that time my father had lost his job at the textile factory due to automation, and the additional two mouths to feed surely became quite a burden to our parents. My mother being an experienced worker in the comforter trade was forced to take in contracting in order to compensate for the loss of father’s weekly salary.

To raise four children, taking care of a household, while putting in a regular day’s work was surly quite a burden on mother’s shoulders, even with some help from my father.

The fact that all that had to be done in a one room apartment (literally one single room) must have made my parents’ lives unbearable. Even under existing depressed economic conditions in the young independent republic of Poland, to live under such poverty was far from normal. However to the overwhelming majority of the Jewish population of Lodz, especially in the old city area, this standard of living was indeed considered normal. Adding to the misery, was the absence of sewers (and of course any sort of plumbing.)

OUR APARTMENT

I can still remember and vividly visualize each piece of furniture and each item in our apartment. I am also able to place each piece of furniture at the proper place exactly where it was located at the time.

To state that the single room apartment of ours was overcrowded would be an understatement indeed. Only the clothing cupboard, the parents double bed and the large table with six heavy chairs, have already taken up about seventy percent of the available space. Mother’s kitchen credenza, the wood burning stove and a corner space to store some coal and wood took up almost the entire thirty percent which was left.

The two folding beds on which the boys were sleeping were during the day placed near a wall and neatly covered up. On Saturdays and holidays, when mother was not working, the so-called "frame" on which she used to make her comforters was also folded, covered up and placed at another part of an empty wall. Since we had no running water, a sort of cabinet stood at the left corner next to the door on top of which two buckets filled with fresh water were placed.

Another bizarre thing about our apartment was, that although

we had no running water, a sink was attached to the wall, next to

the water cabinet, this quite important appliance was used mostly to dispose of dirty water. The other important use of that sink was to brush our teeth and wash our faces.

No matter how drab looking our apartment was during the six work days, the transformation for the Sabbath and holidays was quite remarkable. The spotlessly clean room, the large table covered with a beautiful white tablecloth and the candlestick in the centre, brought a distinctive look and festive atmosphere not only to the apartment but to everyone present.

Every Friday afternoon in order to properly welcome the Shabbat, father took my twin and myself to the famous "Offenbach Shwitz" (bath house).

When I reached the age of nine or ten I began to realize how difficult my parents’ lives were. To bring up a family under such conditions was surely no picnic. But for me as well as my older brothers these were indeed times of joy and happiness. The closeness and love among all of us and the respect for our parents and their respect towards the children added a lot to that happiness.

THE SCHOOL YEARS

My twin brother and I were not four yet, when my father introduced us to our first teacher. Of course we were not exceptions because most Jewish children at that time. started their education about this age. Our teacher, a brother-in-law of the owner of our building was a frail, slim young man, who at the age of thirty was already completely grey. His long beard added substantially to his odd appearance. But he was gentle and kind.

In order to win my confidence the "Rebe," as we used to call him, held me on his lap and with a bright smile on his pale face, taught me the first letters of the Hebrew alphabet.

Apparently having no other skills, or perhaps physically unfit to do any hard labour, Reb Mendl gave individual Hebrew lessons to beginners. Being aware of the financial problems of his students, the teacher charged a minimal fee. This job, however provided a measure of self respect to this proud man and ample proof, that he was capable of making a living like any other married man.

A couple of years later, when I was already attending regular Hebrew school, my first-ever teacher passed away. Although he had no children the tragedy for his immediate family was enormous. He was loved by everybody, and even as I was still a young child I felt a kind of pride to have been among a large group of students to escort the funeral procession and offer special prayers. The whole neighbourhood attended and paid homage to this unfortunate young man. Although I overheard some people talking about the Rebe’s heart condition, I did not really comprehend what it was all about. However the passing of my young teacher was the first real tragic event of my young life and the beginning of my actual growing up.

At that time I also began to understand the difficulties my parents were experiencing and how hard it must of been for them to provide for four growing children and give them at least the minimum what they needed. So, I used to comfort myself with the fact that my parents were not the only ones with financial problems. Most people in our neighbourhood lived under the same deplorable conditions and many were even poorer than we were. The shortages which we had to endure during the weekdays were handsomely compensated with delicious Shabbat and holiday meals.

Although our mother was working very hard, being for a long time the only provider, she never neglected her duties as a wife and mother. She did everything with love, devotion and compassion.

The unlimited love of our parents for their children and the closeness among the siblings made it much easier for all of us to endure the hard times while sincerely believing in a brighter future.

Some better times for our family eventually did come. But with the rapidly approaching disaster, the better times soon became overshadowed by total darkness.

THE TURBULENT THIRTIES

When I started public school, in the early thirties, my oldest brother Moshe was already working as a furrier and Isaak began his apprenticeship in the same trade. Since three of my mother’s brothers were in the fur business, it was normal at that time for members of the family to follow in their footsteps. Moshe as well as Isaak were already contributing some money to the household, lessening a bit the burden of my parents.

Although a lot easier than before, my parents’ struggle to make ends meet, did not entirely diminish. The boys kept growing up, and with it a more urgent need for clothing, and shoes, not to mention larger food orders.

So even at my age, my outlook on life was already influenced to a great extent, by the economic problems of my family, as well as by the struggles and frustrations of the families of my school friends. I was also wondering why so many men in our neighbourhood were unemployed. Another important influence on my premature growing up, were the several daily newspapers in Yiddish as well as in Polish which were never missing on the table along with the morning coffee.

At the age of nine, I was already reading the papers in both languages, while teasingly nick-named by my brothers "the politician." My favorite school subjects in the higher grades were history, geography, and the weekly roundups of current events. This interesting class was conducted by the school principal himself.

The most important event which remained engraved forever in my memory, is without any doubt, Hitler’s coming to power in Germany. I vividly remember that fateful, cold January morning of 1933 when getting ready for school, the door slammed open with an unusual bang. Father, pale and visibly shaken stepped in as if to avoid collapsing, grabbed the nearest chair and sat down. After relaxing for a few seconds quite upset and still pale he showed us the headlines of the two morning papers printed in large and bold letter: "Hitler became the new chancellor of the third reich".

Knowing already quite a bit about this infamous German monster and being aware of his vicious hatred towards the Jewish people, I felt as if someone had hit me over the head. My little heart must have stopped beating for a moment and then racing uncontrollable. It became clear to my whole family that something very bad took place not just in Germany, but was also going to effect the Jewish people all over Europe.

On that terrible day, in all the neighbourhood shops, markets, small work places and factories where people were working the air was filled with anxiety and fear. A creeping feeling of an unavoidable approaching disaster was also felt at schools among the teachers as well as the students.

ANTI-SEMITISM

Roughly ten percent of Poland’s population was Jewish. Taking into consideration the high percentage of Jewish academics like lawyers, doctors, architects, scientists, well-known writers, artists, and especially educators, the Jewish influence in Poland’s political life was next to nill. Even the several industrial giants, owners of large factories (Israel Kalman Poznanski and Asher Kohn of Lodz ) who employed tens of thousands of workers and contributed immensely to the welfare of the Polish population, were dwarfed by the power and influence of the many ethnic German textile tycoons and rich entrepreneurs.

Although the Jewish presence in Poland goes back to 14th century when Poland’s king "Kazimir the great" opened Poland’s gates to the homeless and persecuted Jews of Western Europe, their vast contribution to their new homeland was hardly recognized.

According to the Polish constitution, every citizen, no matter of what religious persuasion was supposed to enjoy equal rights and privileges. The Jews however, who were Poles for over five hundred years, were at best only second class citizens.

On the surface however Jews were considered equal. Jewish political parties from the far right to the moderate left sent democratically elected members to the "saim', (lower house), and senate, (upper house).

All Jewish political parties operated legally, as other parties did, except of course, since the early thirties, the outlawed Communist party. Several independent Yiddish papers and magazines were published.

So, why was there a so-called "Jewish problem?" For starters the Jewish parliamentarians of both houses had no power at all. Not only were their proposals and suggestions completely ignored but most of the time they were personally ridiculed by many right-wing members of parliament.

After the passing in 1935 of the moderate Polish leader Joseph Pilsudski, the right-wing parties had an overwhelming majority in parliament, as well as in government.

The other very important problem, was the total indifference of a great sector of the Polish intelligentsia toward the real Jewish problem. At a time when several openly anti-semitic parties were supported by upper-class Poles as well as enjoying massive support by the conservative Catholic church, Jews were left without reliable protection.

It became quite clear that the poor masses of unemployed Poles and their families had to be fed, so they were provided with heavy doses of hatred towards the Jewish neighbours, who were blamed for their sufferings.

The ever-stronger viciously anti-semitic party, the so-called ‘national democrats', (N.D.) became the main source of the anti-semitic propaganda, especially among the poor, the unemployed and ignorant.

After Pilsudski’s passing, even the following governments and the prime ministers were not hiding their anti-Jewish feelings by ignoring an open boycott against Jewish businesses. In the late thirties the then prime-minister Slavoy Skladkowski, in one of his speeches to both houses of parliament endorsed the boycott while mildly expressing his opposition to violence: "it will give us a bad name around the world", was his given reason for opposing violence.

Violence against Jews in Eastern Europe, especially in Poland, was not a new phenomenon, but after the passing of Pilsudski, whom the anti-semites considered and named the ‘grandfather of the Jews,’ violent incidents became a daily occurrence in Polish cities and towns.

Violence seemed to have multiplied after the rise of Nazism and Hitler’s coming to power in neighbouring Germany.

It became quite dangerous for an elderly Jew to walk the streets especially at night, and for school children, to walk to or from school.

Many small towns experienced organized pogroms which occurred mainly after unfounded rumours of Jews killing Christian children. Such pogroms occurred in towns like Minsk Mazowiacki and Przytyk in 1936 which resulted in several deaths and scores of badly injured men, women and children. Not to mention destruction and torchings of Jewish homes.

The tragic part and most irritating to the Jewish communities was the fact that in the aftermath of such horrible violent acts, not the attackers but the innocent victims, were arrested and prosecuted. In Przytyk for instance, many Jews who dared to defend themselves, among them Mr. Leyzer Feldberg a seventy yearsold man, who received a life sentence for supposedly injuring an attacker who allegedly later died of his wounds. Mr Feldberg was defended by an honest Christian lawyer Mr. Wazlaw Szumanski, without success.

Violence against the Jewish population kept on increasing steadily. Smashing windows of Jewish shops and homes became some kind of a sport for young hooligans. Leaving the churches after Sunday mass seemed a favorite time for many of those brainwashed young men to demonstrate their hatred towards the Jews. Even more dangerous than the regular Sundays was the Easter holiday. On that day the conservative priests were officially accusing the Jews of murdering Jesus Christ.

The ‘national democrats’ and their followers, encouraged by the events in Nazi Germany became ever more vocal and openly professed more violence against the Jewish citizens. They also organized and supported a more extended boycott against Jewish enterprises while urging non-Jewish store keepers to display in their windows signs in big letters informing the passerby that they are a ‘Christian firm.'

THE GOVERNMENT

The government in Warsaw pretended to be blind to the increasing, suffering of its Jewish citizens. Ignoring the protests from the Jewish parliamentarians and partly by the opposition,"Polish socialist party," the saim and senate kept on introducing new anti-Jewish laws. At the time, the Jewish population was already used to the fact that our government as well as the parliament, will do their utmost to make our lives as miserable as possible.

But a bill introduced in parliament by a right-wing member, demanding a complete ban of kosher meat, became the straw which broke the camels back. Arguing that ritual slaughter is inhuman Mrs. Pristorowa, a well known anti-semite was aiming direct at the heart of Jewish religious life.

I must add that many Christian liberals were voicing their opposition against that bill, finally showing open support for the oppressed Jewish population.

Mrs. Pristorowa’s proposal prompted for the first time ever a united front of all Jewish political parties, partially supported by the Polish "socialist party"and a handful of other moderates. This time the entire Jewish population recognized their numerical power and in full solidarity followed a call by their leaders for a general boycott of beef and beef products.

This action caused an obvious panic in the country’s meat industry which realized that they could not afford to loose their Jewish customers who represent a close to ten percent of the overall population, but uses proportionately more beef than their Christian neighbours. Mostly because the others were consuming more pork and less meat.

Mrs. Pristorowa and her supporters did not give up easily. But after a protracted fight on the floors of parliament the bill was finally shelved. In spite of this obvious set-back the anti-Jewish bickering continued unabated.

LIES AND SCAPEGOATS

My experience with anti-semitism probably goes back to the day I was able to walk out to the street on my own. The abuse and harassment by older Christian children remained among my first childhood memories. This was the time when I heard for the first time the slogan "Jews to Palestine."

Later when I started public school my mother sent me to school at least a half an hour earlier in the morning in order not to meet up with the Christian boys. I also left school about a half an hour later for exactly the same reason. Sometimes however groups of those little hooligans were already waiting for us on the way to school turning our usual pleasant way home into sheer hell. They seemed to find pleasure in kicking and hitting the younger kids while their accomplices tried to block our escape routes.

All sport activities like soccer games, volleyball, or ice skating, were scheduled for us at times when the Christian children were already in their homes. In order to avoid harassment, the teachers picked sides for those activities in strictly Jewish areas. Even the weekly showers we took in the Jewish area, escorted by a Jewish teacher.

In time I also experienced acts of violence by adult bullies. These characters to camouflage their true intent, most of the time pretended to be drunk. My brother Moshe was not yet seventeen when during a walk on a busy street with his girlfriend was assaulted by such a character. The man, who as the others, pretended drunkenness, (and according to my brother did not smell of alcohol) embraced him in a friendly manner

uttering words like "How much he loved Jews."

In only a few seconds this so-called drunk managed to inflict a deep cut to my brothers skull. He apparently used a razor blade because Moshe only noticed the assault after the man had already disappeared. With blood streaming down his neck, he ran to the nearest police precinct. Knowing well that violence against Jews was openly tolerated, he refused to press any charges. After being given the necessary first aid he left the precinct, amid loud laughter by several policemen who seemed to have enjoyed the spectacle.

After this unfortunate incident Moshe was not the same any more. He started to get involved in leftist activities, believing that socialism will eventually bring equality among nations and also eradicate the scourge of anti-semitism.

To his great disappointment however, this dream of his soon evaporated. After his escape from Nazi occupied Lodz in 1939, hoping to find a haven in the Soviet Union, he found instead a regime no less ant-semitic than the fascist governments of western Europe.

After the incident with my brother, although still a child, I began asking questions about the reasons of anti-semitism. Although my father felt that I was too young to absorb the proper answers he nevertheless told me things which began to open my eyes. He told me that the Jews who had no homeland of their own were the perfect scapegoats for all sorts of corrupt regimes and for corrupt leaders of various political parties. This situation was also aggravated by a conservative Catholic church.

To cover up their own weaknesses, their corrupt and even criminal acts against their own people, these regimes blamed all evil on the helpless Jews. Innocent Jewish men, women and children were being discriminated against, abused and murdered for as long as two thousand years. During the Crusades and the Spanish Inquisition thousands of Jews were killed in the name of God. Later on Jews were being killed by different regimes who accused their Jewish populations of being disloyal and through lies and innuendos instigated Christians to kill their Jewish neighbours by accusing them of being spies and traitors to their own countries.

My father explained to me in simple words that according to those regimes, Jews were at the same time capitalists, socialists, communists, zionists, bankers and even beggars. They created for their masses a stereotype of a person unworthy of living among them. Jews were held responsible for unemployment, for poverty and even natural disasters. Those vicious libelous lies resulted in tragedies like the Dreyfus affair in France and many trials of Jews who were accused of killing Christian children and using their blood to bake passover matza, a good example was the infamous Bailis trial in the Ukraine and other trials of that sort.

All those vicious accusations turned out completely groundless and the accused were eventually released and in many cases rehabilitated. Even in my time I have heard many of the same accusations in our supposedly democratic country of Poland. Knowing well that all those allegations were pure lies, I was still unable to dismiss them as harmless. I got angry and disgusted when reading or listening to such dangerous accusations.

What made me most angry was the often repeated shameless assertions by the anti-semitic press and leading right-wing politicians that all Jews of Poland are rich. The sad part of this propaganda, of these lies and innuendos was the fact that many perhaps too many of Polish Christians believed in them. The real truth was that very few Jews of our city were rich. Their numbers were so small that they constituted a very small percentage of the overall Jewish population. The fact was, that a vast majority of the Polish Jews, especially in a large city like Lodz, lived in a sort of poverty unparalleled in any country in Western Europe. Families of six (like my own family), and of more, were living in one room flats. Those so-called apartments mostly in unheated dilapidated buildings were without running water or any sort of plumbing.

The public latrines were mostly situated at the rear of the usually large backyards and were most of the time overflowing and so were the large garbage containers. No wonder that those places were breading grounds for rats, which were roaming the area as free as birds. Although these conditions were later improved and the rodents exterminated, the air around those places was poisoned with an unbearable stench especially during the hot summer days.

Most of those impoverished slum dwellers were self employed, actually contractors, who were doing work for larger manufacturers. These workers were paid so little, that they could not afford to keep extra space for their workshops, and most of them did their work inside their already overcrowded living quarters. These were mostly tailors, shoemakers, furriers, weavers, etc.

Due to the very strong trade unions, Jewish workers could not get employment in large factories, even in the predominantly textile industry. This was part of the reason for Jewish weavers to do contracting in their homes. Most of these contractor’s work was seasonable, so many of them had to go through many months of unemployment and unbearable hardship.

Freezing during the cold winters and sweltering during the hot summers, the children of those poor, hard working Jews had never enough food to satisfy their needs. Many mothers kept pots of hot potato soup to feed their children, as a substitute for bread, which was much more expensive.

At school these kids were provided with some sort of lunches donated by parents of more affluent students, but mostly by Jewish charitable organizations. The so-called affluent people were mostly struggling small store keepers and small manufacturers. But the overwhelming majority of the Jewish working class, and the masses of Jewish unemployed were living under those deplorable conditions, I described above.

I must add that in spite of all the difficulties and prevailing poverty Jewish life in general seemed to flourish. In the relatively young Polish republic, Jewish institutions, religious as well as charitable, had full freedom of self governing and growth. A democratically elected Jewish committee (kehila) with a president who was the leader of the winning party. This committee was overseeing all activities of various Jewish institutions, like charitable organizations, medical and dental clinics, welfare, and so on. All religious affairs were handled by a rabbinic assembly, a so-called Rabbinate.

All athletic clubs were supported by various political parties, and partially by dues from the membership.

In general, Jewish life, with its self-supporting institutions was thriving amid an atmosphere of undiminishing anti-semitism.

AN IMPROVEMENT IN OUR LIVING CONDITIONS

The year was 1936. The economic situation in the country reached crisis proportions. The results of mass unemployment especially affecting the small contractors. My father was still jobless, and for mother to obtain contract work became ever more difficult. The manufacturers understandably had first of all to provide work for their own labourers.

My two older brothers were already working as furriers, but also began experiencing the general squeeze, with much shorter seasons than usual. They actually needed for their own expenses more than they were able to contribute to the household. The situation turned from bad to worse.

What was really hard for me to understand.was how under such extremely difficult conditions, my father was able to spend some money, no matter how little, to buy lottery tickets. Father’s faith and hope that someday he might win some money, kept him going. For him and for millions of others like him, this was the only way out, and the only way to turn his life around. All he dreamed of, was for the day he would be able to provide a decent living for his wife and children.

Finally, at a time when he needed it most, his prayers were answered, and the dream came true.

Father’s number on the so-called "dollar lottery" won a staggering hundred dollars. Since this money was being paid in gold dollars, father collected a for us astronomical sum of close to one thousand Polish zlotys. Although we all knew about father’s possession of such a lottery ticket, the only one who actually knew the number by heart was Isaak. On that fateful day, he happened to read the paper during his lunch hour, when he noticed among the winners father’s number.

Isaak of course immediately left his work place and came running home with the great news. The tremendous joy and happiness we all experienced at that moment is indescribable. But most memorable were mother’s tearful thanks to God for his kindness and mercy. As usual she found that this was the time for her favorite expression: "The light never comes on before you experience total darkness."

Soon after obtaining the money my parents established, on a small scale of course, a comforter factory, starting with only two employees.

Although the general economic situation in the country did not show any visible improvement, my parents’ venture became quite successful. After only several months in business, the sales were going up to a point, when they were forced to employ about six to eight workers.

After a while they rented some separate space for the factory, because it became impossible for them to continue working in our over-crowded one room apartment. Although economically we were fast reaching the middle class status my parents were working harder and more hours daily than ever before.

Mother’s work load as head of production, plus the burden of taking care of the household, became much too much for her fragile personality. She seemed constantly to be on her feet never taking a bit of time to relax. The only benefactors of our newly acquired prosperity were my brothers and myself.

Amid the uncertain political situation in Europe in general and in Poland in particular, we finally began to enjoy life; although we fully realized that there might be little precious time to enjoy.

Sometimes I'm not really sure if the people at that time did not foresee a fast approaching disaster, or they simply refused to face reality. The signs were bold and quite obvious. Ever more groups of former Polish Jews expelled from Nazi Germany were being brought to the border crossing near the town of Zbonshin. Those refugees told stories of horror and disaster which befell the German Jewish community.

At the same time Jewish life in Poland’s towns and cities was going on in a relatively normal way, with all local institutions functioning in as normal a way as possible under the circumstances.

My older brothers and myself were busy with our own activities. Meyer and I were still attending school and quite busy with extra curricular activities. We were also members of the well-known athletic club "Morgenstern" where we took part in all sorts of competitive sports. Reading books I usually obtained at the school library, and I also found a large variety of interesting books at the Jewish library. Belonging then to the more affluent students, my brother and I began to take part in many school outings and even went on a three day trip to the capital city of Warsaw.

I had friends who were members of various Zionist youth organizations ranging from the extreme right-wing "Betar" to the far-left, "Hashomer Hatzair." Although we were urged on by our friends to join one or the other of these groups, we actually never did. Being by nature a moderate and ardent believer in a Jewish homeland in Palestine, I was not yet inclined to choose political sides and never officially joined a specific group.

For me, however, the most important thing in those days was school. Starting at grade one, up to finishing grade seven, I was always among the small group of "A" students. Since studying came very easy to me, so besides helping my twin brother with whom I was always attending the same class, I was also able and quite willing to help others with their studies and homework.

This, in addition to my being "the resident artist", turned me into one of the most popular students in school. Starting in grade five and onward I was the elected president of the class council. I was never considered a "geek" because of my being a good student and not too big in size, but was respected by all, even by the official school bullies who listened to my advice and judgement.

I very well realized that most of that respect had to do with the help I provided with their homework and in the art class but nonetheless I felt pretty good about it. Of equal importance for me was also the respect and friendship I got from all my teachers especially from the distinguished principal, Mr. Tabaksblat. They all appreciated my active involvement in all sorts of school activities which also included collecting funds for poor children.

At the time I was quite convinced that I am destined to pursue a higher education, which was also the opinion of my teachers and principal. During the last couple of years before W.W.2, I became dissuaded and discouraged by the ugly display of anti-semitism of Polish institutions of higher learning.

The degradation of Jewish students and their humiliation by ghettoizing and forcing them to sit separately became a factor in changing the minds of many Jewish boys who decided to take the safer road by learning a trade.

Soon however all plans and dreams for the future became worthless indeed. Nevertheless the school years remained my best and most memorable time of my life.

A NOT TOO MEMORABLE EXCURSION

A year or so before Germany’s invasion of Poland the public school board organized a special excursion to the Baltic port city of Gdynia. This trip which was supposed to last three days with an addition of four weeks at a summer camp was offered for a lowest fee possible. So there was no surprise when we learned that some strings were attached to this fabulous deal, namely that only "A" students were eligible.

The excitement diminished quite a bit when we found out that although each Christian school will be able to send about twenty students, Jewish schools were allocated a quota of only three. Again a blatant example of government sponsored anti-semitism.

When notified that my name was among the three students chosen for the trip, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of euphoria unknown to me before, plus of course a tremendous feeling of pride.

After a while however, I realized that this is going to be the first time in my life that I'll be forced to be separated from my twin brother for such a long time. I felt sad and confused and was even contemplating some excuse to drop my participation. My parents however swiftly changed my mind by convincing both of us that it might be to our advantage to finally become less dependent on each other.

This trip was sheduled for the end of the school year, which was about the 25th of June. But at the beginning of the month, the three chosen students were summoned to the principal’s office for a short briefing. Two of us, Kempinski and myself, were truly top students, but the third one, a very close friend of mine, was pretty average. His mother however was for many years a hard working head of the parent-teacher association, so it became quite obvious why he became the third participant.

The meeting with the principal became quite a traumatic experience for all of us when Kempinski declined the exceptional honor and chance to participate in this important venture. This gentle fourteen year old boy who was nicknamed "grandpa" was tall, slim, with a pale sad face. But worst of all his hair was completely grey. He himself stubbornly refused to talk about it, and surprisingly I could not recall a single instance when anybody would ever make fun of him or teased him because of this affliction. There were many versions about the cause of that utterly unique tragedy, but the most probable version and most believable was as follows: The Kempinski family of five was living in a very poor district of our city. Once during a dark and cold winter night they were viciously attacked by a couple of armed bullies and were robbed them of whatever possessions they owned.

While his parents were brutally assaulted this then ten year old boy was hidden under a bed with his two younger siblings, witnessing their poor parents being stabbed and beaten unconscious. This apparently was the time when because of an unbearable fear his hair started to turn grey.

The principal seemed to realize that Kempinski’s refusal to take part in the excursion was a problem of financing and offered to pay all expenses from the school’s petty cash reserves. Our friend however was adamant with his assertion that his refusal had nothing to do with money and insisted that he had to stay home with his ailing parents who are not able to take proper care of his younger siblings. All our pleading and attempts of convincing him to change his mind, were in vain.

Kempinski left the principal’s office visibly swallowing his tears. There was no doubt in my mind that the question of financing was his main problem and his decision was made because of youthful pride. This gentle youngster was too proud to accept charity. This was obvious indeed to everyone present.

When I told my parents that one of the boys is unable to take part in the excursion, dad dropped a hint, that perhaps I should ask the principal if it could be a chance for my twin brother to take his place. At first this idea hit me as preposterous. How can I act so selfishly on somebody else’s misfortune?

On that night I could hardly shut my eyes, my thoughts were racing in many different directions. The next day at school I was still undecided how to handle my peculiar dilemma. I was ready to go home without settling anything. While on my way home I passed the principal’s office and I was hesitant of what to do next.

The office door was wide open and the principal seemed to have noticed my hesitation of whether to stop or continue on my way out. "Do you want to see me Benjamin?" he asked with his usual pleasant voice and with his familiar smile. I stopped. Confused and totally unprepared, I slowly walked into his office. "Sit down Benji," he pointed to a chair on the opposite side of his desk. His friendly manner completely disarmed me. I calmly went directly to the point.

First I expressed my very sincere regrets about Kempinski’s problem and that my parents would be ready to pay the full cost of his trip. If only he would be willing to accept. But since this proud boy’s decision seemed final.... I did not finish my sentence while pondering how to continue, the principal finished it for me: "So perhaps your twin brother could take his place".

I was overwhelmed with the intelligence, sincerity and frankness of our beloved principal. He stood up and again with a pleasant smile, he assured me that in a couple of days he will let me know about his final decision.

The next day, to be entirely sure about my friend’s stand, I asked him again if he wouldn't change his mind. Looking at his always pale face and sad eyes, I pleaded with him to reconsider. With visible pride, he looked at me and as before insisted that his parents can easily afford the fee for the trip, but as the oldest son in the family, he could not and will not leave his sick parents without proper care.

Being fully convinced that his mind was made up I told him about my idea of replacing him with my twin brother. To my surprise Kempinski, with a straight face even with a hint of a smile wholeheartedly supported my plan. "I sincerely hope," he said "that the principal will come up with a positive decision.

As promised it took only a couple of days to be called into the principal’s office.

It was a beautiful spring day, with a bright sun penetrating through the window of the principal’s office. The sun totally blinded me for a moment. Politely as always, I heard the principals voice asking me to sit down. This time he was in the company of a couple of my favorite teachers.

Mr. Tabaksblat immediately came to the point. "As you probably know, your brother does hardly meet the criteria of being part of this project, but we nevertheless decided in your favor." As in a daze I heard him continue, "the vice principal, Mr. Smolenski, and your class teacher Mrs. Hendler were both instrumental in that decision. "We did it mainly because of your closeness with your twin brother" were his final words.

"Today the sun did truly shine on us," I thought when I left the office with a several times repeated "thank you very much."

Needless to say that my parents as well as my brother were delighted with the outcome.

The excitement around the house was indescribable. Even our older brothers had the pleasure in helping us with the packing of our knapsacks. Our apartment was constantly visited by well wishing relatives and neighbours. The festive atmosphere in our place could easily have been compared with families where a son or daughter was in the process of emigrating to Palestine or the U.S.A.

After all, I had to recognize the fact, that people in our neighbourhood seldom ventured very far outside the boundaries of the city.

Until the end of the school year, all the three candidates for the trip to Gdynia, understandably became the envy of all our school-mates. Unfortunately most of the youngsters were destined to spend their summer vacation inside our terribly polluted city of textile factories and slums.

ON OUR WAY

We met in the late afternoon because we had a scheduled overnight train direct to Gdynia. The June sun was still shining when we arrived at the central station with our heavy knapsacks. At a predesignated place in front of the station our supervisor, a public school teacher, was already giving instructions to a small group of Jewish boys and girls.

While the plaza and street outside the station was crowded with hundreds of seemingly happy and noisy youngsters our small group didn't seem to get much larger. We were standing separated from all the others and before entering the station, I estimated the group of Jewish youngsters at no more than twenty.

So right at the start it was easy to notice that while the other supervisors were having lively conversations with each other, our teacher, apparently the only Jew, was completely ignored. Our teacher, a handsome dark-haired man in his late thirties or early forties pretended not to notice the snub, but his sad face said it all. We were outsiders, and the stench of obvious anti-semitism was clearly in the air.

Not being able to conceal my feelings of despair, I whispered to my brother while walking in the direction of the wagon designated for us: "The Jewish population of Lodz numbers close to a quarter of a million, which makes it one third of the overall population, so why in God’s name are we so few among so many non-Jewish children"?

It turned out that the amount of Jewish students chosen for this well publicized excursion, was no more than about two percent of the overall number of participants. But I could hardly have expected that this so eagerly anticipated trip will turn into an unforgettable nightmare.

Just minutes after settling down into our seats, this nightmare had started. To use a toilette, we had to cross into the next wagon. Unfortunately we had to pass a wagon full of hostile youngsters. The first one of us who tried to reach the toilette soon returned limping and crying.

With tears running down his cheeks, he told our supervisor, that he was verbally and physically abused by some bullies who refused to let him use the facilities. Asked by our supervisor if none of their teachers tried to intervene on his behalf, the crying youngster told him that the supervisor apparently pretended not to notice the incident while enjoying a good laugh with the happy crowd. One of the girls who took a chance to visit the toilette, was allowed to enter, and although not physically assaulted, the girl was harassed, verbally abused, and made fun of.

Unwilling to take further chances, the boys decided to use their teacups when needed to relieve themselves. The unpleasant consequence of such a way out, was an unpleasant return of your own urine. While trying to get rid of the content through the wagon window, the wind returned most of the fluid straight into your face. This unfortunate situation continued until we left the train at the Gdynia station.

The moment we started breathing the fresh air of the Baltic sea, we also began to experience a totally uncontrollable harassment and physical abuse by the hands and feet of our Christian peers. This appalling behavior of the not very supervised, youngsters lasted uninterruptedly and with the visible approval of their supervising teachers, the entire three days of our tour of the port city of Gdynia.

A venture which was supposed to be stimulating, educational and pleasurable, turned into one of the worst experiences of my pre W.W.2 life. Although our supervisor did his very best to keep us separated from the main crowd, it was nevertheless very difficult to avoid the seemingly well organized harassment. Besides sleeping in separate quarters and many times taking separate site-seeing tours of the port, our time in Gdynia could at best be described as miserable.

What was most painful, however was the verbal abuse we had to endure during our joint meals at a huge hall at one of the city’s high schools.

What I am going to describe was repeating itself at each of those joint meals which were strictly supervised by a number of teachers and even principals of Catholic schools. Each meal which normally supposed to be a restful break from the uninterrupted tours, turned into an anti-semitic demonstration poisoned with hate by supposedly Christian educated youngsters.

Before the start of each meal, and after saying grace, and under the watchful eyes of their Christian educators, one of the boys in a loud voice wished everybody "a good appetite." After receiving a loud unanimous "thank you" he followed with "a good appetite to the Jews' for which of course the reply was a deadly silence. The same reply he received after wishing a good appetite to the Jewish girls.

Then, as a fully seasoned hooligan, the same youngster shouted on the top of his lungs, "down with the Jews", to which the entire hall of hundreds of youngsters replied in unison with a thunderous "down", followed with the old well known anti-semitic slogan: "Jews to Palestine".

Those ugly and disgusting anti-Jewish demonstrations were performed by youngsters in the presence of laughing and visibly proudly looking educators who by their behavior and arrogance gave their full approval to such a shameless display of hatred.

In addition, the utterly snobbish behavior of the so-called educators towards the only Jewish supervisor, and by ignoring their only Jewish colleague, they also gave tacit approval the young hooligans to harass and abuse our teacher. During one of our joint meals, some kind of a flying object reached his forehead, causing quite a nasty wound. Luckily it missed his black rimmed glasses, without which he would unable to function. The out of control youngsters even composed a specific slogan against this gentle supervisor of ours: "down with the enemy in spectacles."