ALONE

Now, I was alone. It was October and I was barefoot with no coat. The water that surrounded me froze at night. If I wanted to leave, I would have to break the thin ice with my bare feet and it was so painful that I howled.

I had to leave this place, the cold made me go to the road, where the haystack was and I warmed myself there, burrowing into the middle to get a little sleep. I knew it wasn't safe to be there so the next day I hid in the bushes nearby. Sometimes, I managed to find a turnip; sometimes I starved for days. But, at night, I crawled into the haystack.

Once, I overslept and when I woke up, I heard loud voices. The workmen with their pitchforks were loading the hay on the wagon. What was I going to do?

The pitchforks were getting closer and closer, they would soon get me. But, if I were found, they would take me to the Germans.

Clenching my teeth, I decided to wait; maybe they needed only one wagon of hay, and wouldn't come back. They left, and I spent the rest of the day in my nest....

To my horror, they came back. I couldn't stay there anymore, and to their astonishment, I ran to the bushes. It was a close call.

That evening, I went to Stanislav to ask about the certificates. Again, he had nothing and asked me to wait.

I made a decision on the spot. I decided to go to Pluta, maybe he would help me to survive this cold. So, I told Stanislav that if he got the papers, to look for me in the vicinity of Pluta's farm. Actually, I didn't believe any more that I would get this certificate.

So I walked in the night through silent autumn woods, empty fields, avoiding people and circling around villages.

So many enemies I have and the dogs were one of them. They sensed any stranger at a distance and the choir of incessant barking followed me all the way. I suppose it was Sunday (I never knew the days of the week, the date, the time) because I heard music, people were dancing.

Pluta was the only farmer we trusted, the only one who sometimes gave us food and during the time we spent in the woods, we did not visit him, so as not to endanger him and his family. It was a time when we could find food in the woods and we managed.

Sure, the danger of being caught by farmers whose fields we dug in for potatoes added to the danger of being caught by the Germans but the hunger made us do it.

In the woods we were constantly looking for mushrooms, berries.

But now, in late autumn, the fields and woods were empty. You could hardly find a forgotten turnip or potato. I was desperate to avoid the elements. I had to do something. I had to fight.

The next night, I walked in the direction of Pluta's farm. It was about five or six kilometers. I avoided the villages with people and barking dogs. I walked through empty fields, silent woods, jumped over creeks, passed swamps while hearing sounds of music and dancing in the villages. I even heard laughing and a couple of jealous lovers arguing about being unfaithful. Such trivial things were normal for them, but strange for me.

People lived, loved, danced, laughed and there I was, a hunted animal, cold and hungry and nobody cared. They wanted me dead, why? Why? How could we believe in God? Why couldn't we live like others did?

In the darkness, I knocked at Pluta's window. He saw me and couldn't believe I was still alive. He let me in and fed me. With pity, he allowed me to spend a few nights in the hay in his barn. It felt so good not to be hungry and to sleep under a roof. This village outcast really was a good man.

During the day I helped in the barn to clean beets, potatoes and carrots for winter, and they fed me. On a cold, rainy November morning, Pluta came running shouting "Oblava!" (hunt for Jews!) "The Germans are surrounding this area, run, run away and never tell if caught that you were here!" I grabbed the little rug he gave me as a blanket to cover myself with at night and ran out behind his property to the little strip of trees called "Olshina". I lay on the wet ground and covered my head with the little rug. I didn't want to climb a tree; I didn't want to see them; let them kill me on the ground.

But, I couldn't help hearing the hated language that was getting closer and closer. They were walking in a row, a few yards from each other, talking, very relaxed like a leisurely walk in the woods.

The trees were naked, no leaves, the ground muddy, wet, a cold autumn rain was drizzling and I was there, all wet lying on the ground, resigned. I didn't want to run and had nowhere to hide from them.

What agony it was to wait to be killed and the wait was so long. I heard them from far away and I knew they were many. It was not hard to find me. I was the only one there.

It was the end of 1943 and almost all the Jews were dead, but they were looking for stray Jews who should not survive. They would use 800 men to comb this little area. Wearing raincoats with the guns pointed, they were talking and laughing, stopping to have a smoke.

Why not? The only criminal in this little forest was a thirteen-year-old girl, no partisans around.

Later, Pluta told me there was a detachment of 800 Nazis, a special group, that were combing the woods.

When I heard them next to me, I couldn't take it anymore. I looked up and saw two Germans who stopped to light a cigarette. They continued walking, with their backs to me, talking. They moved further away, overlooking the "criminal."

I stayed there into the evening so I wouldn't endanger Pluta. In the dark, I risked approaching the farm. I was amused at how happy he was that I was still alive. He honestly admitted that sending a child to death was not a Christian thing to do; he was sure they would have killed me. He was glad that I was not on his conscience.

He gave me supper and sent me to the barn to dry up. After that, there were a few other actions, but he told me to dig deeper into the hay and entertained the police with vodka and food.

STANISLAV

One night in December, Stanislav found me at Pluta's farm. Without showing me his face, he talked with me outside in the darkness. He brought me a birth certificate with the name Halina Michalowska, his niece. Stanislav was the father of six children and asked me that if the Nazis caught me, and tortured me that I could not tell who helped me.

I remember what my sister Sima told me once about false identity, to pretend to be a Pole. It's like jumping from a moving train. If you lose your balance, you are lost. You have to get up and walk straight, pretending it was not you, the jumper.

Two years we were hiding, avoiding people at any cost, and now jumping into a crowd it will be very hard and risky.

But do I have a choice? Now I want to live to avenge. I want to tell my story, the story of my family.

Now I want to survive, against all odds, I want to live!

But I am not going at any cost to betray this good man who risked his life and his family to save me, a stranger. He is a saint to me. I am old enough to understand his sacrifice and my gratitude is overwhelming me.

This poor shoemaker from a little village, a father of six, had high ideals. He was a communist, a real idealist, believing in the equality of people of all races. We were extremely lucky to meet such persons in this ocean of hate and hostility.

I felt one hundred years old when I told him that they would kill me anyway, why would I betray him, a person that helped me? I didn't think I convinced him, but he went away and I now had a new route to try; maybe it would work. Pluta gave me some old shoes and an old jacket. Then I had to clean myself a little and try to look Polish.

But, how does one leave the woods and mix with the gentiles without showing how afraid I am after hiding in the woods for two years?

I was going to meet Kasprak, who was the third Pole to help, although he didn't know about my existence yet. We were lucky to meet people like him in this ocean of traitors, looters, blackmailers and criminals.

Once again, I have to admit; the whole nation cannot be blamed. Even the Germans who invented the Genocide were not all Nazis. But why were all the good people who helped us either considered outcasts of their society or they were former criminals, like Kasprak? Why were the "decent" Poles so anti-Semitic and indifferent to other humans? Fear? Yes, it was true; it was dangerous to help the Jews.

The Germans didn't like them, either, called them collaborators. Once I heard someone express that in their opinion the Poles were "little heroes, and big traitors."

I now had to pretend to be a Catholic girl, and I didn't have much experience. I was scared to jump into a society where ninety-nine percent of the people wanted me dead.

The night before my transformation, I took a bucket of cold water into the cold barn ad tried to clean myself a little.

Late, the same night, I had another visitor, my cousin Srulek Hrynuwicki. He was the son of one of the ten cousins shot in the summer by the Police. His family lived in a village, Lanczk, with German colonists and all of them spoke perfect German. He had a beautiful older sister, blond and blue eyed, seventeen years old.

When they all were in a cattle car going to Treblinka, people made a hole and began to jump in the night as the guards were shooting them.

The mother begged her daughter to jump as she jumped but the daughter never did it. Anyway, a couple of months later, his mother and a few of her siblings (all our cousins) were shot. Only Srulek 15 years old, survived, because he was out looking for food.

Knowing where we are, in the fields, he came to us and spent a day with us. Later he joined some partisans (he was a very resourceful boy) and very determined to avenge the death of his parents.

This night, he came to Pluta looking for a trace of us. He found only me, with the birth certificate.

He was only two years older than me, but he felt protective and to my surprise, he gave me a few Polish zlotys for the trip; he was a wonderful, smart, boy.

He survived the Germans and in 1945, when I was on my way to Russia, he surfaced to see Eva and was in a Russian military uniform going to the front. Did he survive? I don't know.

Right now I was busy cleaning myself from the dirt accumulated in the two years of hiding. I took a bucket of cold water and washed myself in the stable.

I combed my hair into two braids, washed my face (although I didn't have a mirror to check the results), and I was ready to move.

I said goodbye to Pluta and his family and started my journey into the unknown.

A JUMP FOR LIFE

I walked all night on the main road and dropped down when a car passed. I walked the twenty­ three kilometers to Siedlce.

At sunrise, I reached the outskirts of the city and joined the caravan of peasants going to the market by carts or by foot. I chose an older woman for a companion and for the first time tried out my “story" as to why I was alone and going to the city? I told her my name was Halina Micholowska and my mother passed away. My father was a drunkard who was married to a witch who tormented me. I told her I had to look after my stepmother's little baby and had to do all the chores so I ran away, to work in the city as a maid.

My story worked with this sympathetic lady and we entered the city together. So many Germans were around, and thousands of Poles. I felt like everybody recognized me as a Jew, and soon they would drag me to the Gestapo.

I parted with the old woman and looked for Kasprak's address. I found the house, but it was locked. A neighbour told me that Kasprak's permanent residence was eight kilometers outside of the city in a village by the name of Grabianowka, in the house of his new wife Kazimiera, a spinster he recently married. A few times a week he came to the city.

As the neighbour told me, he was a businessman, but she didn't tell me what kind of business.

The city, the crowds, the noise, the many Germans around unnerved me so much that I, like everything inside me, was shaking with fear, but I had to look not scared, I am not Jewish.

In my mind, I remember my elder sister's words "Don't show fear, walk straight" and I tried hard to do that even though I was trembling inside.

Do I look very Jewish? Sure I am not blond and blue eyed. Unfortunately this is a big minus. But my nose is not very big, and I am not circumcised, and I speak Polish well - a plus....

On the other side, it was suspicious that at 13 1 am here alone - a minus ... But the war time left many orphans to fight for survival alone.

These thoughts crossed my mind. I was looking frantically for a place to wait for the arrival of Kasprak. How and where to hide for one night in this cold?

I didn't know what to do. I had to see him in private there, but if he were not coming that day, where would I spend the night? There was a curfew.

I noticed there was a little empty shack in the yard where coal used to be kept by the tenants before the war. I walked around for half the day and then crawled into the shack at dusk. It was dark and cold and smelled like a chicken coop. I didn't have anything to sit on, so I stood in the corner where it was less windy. I was so tired from the previous sleepless night that I fell asleep for short periods of time, swaying and waking up with a start. I was so cold I was shivering constantly and thought about the warm stable I had left behind. It seemed like a paradise compared to the shack.

In the morning, half frozen, I left again to walk the streets and I checked the door of Kasprak's apartment periodically.

KASPRAK

A fifty year old, stocky man with an artificial eye arrived, very jovial and friendly. I remember what Luba told us about his stormy life before she left.

He married young and had two children. In an act of jealous rage, he killed his wife. He packed her corpse in a valise and took it on a train to dispose of it, but he was caught, jailed and spent twenty years in prison. Only the war liberated him. His occupation was now dangerous: smuggling food from the villages to the city and selling it for a profit. He remarried, and his new wife was pregnant. This was the man I came to for help.

First of all, he told me the good news that Eva (Sofia) and Luba (Genia) were alive and worked in a village named Domaine that was not far away. He looked at me and concluded that I didn't look very Jewish and my Polish was good. He didn't have a place for me right then, but his very pregnant wife could use my help for a while, so he would send her to pick me up the next day. He told me I could spend the night where I was, gave me a piece of bread and left.

I was in a much better position than I had been the day before. I was in a room, not hungry and had some hope for tomorrow.

I didn't dare use the bed at night because I had lice. So, I slept on the floor and covered myself with the rug. I tried to keep myself from the window, as I could see so many Germans of all kinds that were passing on the street. I thought to myself that if they knew who I was, they would kill me on the spot.

Kasprak's wife came, but being a very quiet person, didn't ask me many questions. He had warned me not to tell anybody in his family who I was. We walked the eight kilometers to Grabianowka in silence, which was better for me. She lived with her old mother who is very grouchy and a younger sister who was twenty-three years old. They had a cow in the stable, and some chickens. The water had to be carried from a creek under a hill. Nearby was a forest. Again, the village was some distance from their farm.

Because I was a village girl, I was supposed to milk the cow. First of all, I had never milked a cow before, and second, it was not a normal cow. This cow was known for her violent character. But, the old woman didn't tell me this and sent me to milk the beast. I sat down on the bench with the bucket between my legs as I had seen my mother do. The next second, the cow went berserk, acted so violently that she kicked the bucket, bench and me out of the stable! I tried again, with trepidation, but it was worse. I kept finding myself outside on all fours as the cow went bananas. The old witch didn't tell me that nobody could milk that cow or even come near it but her.

Anyway, mumbling insults about village girls who can't milk a cow, she gave me orders to do other chores so that I wouldn't be eating my bread and doing nothing to earn it.

First thing in the morning, I had to bring in wood and make a fire in the stove and help to prepare the breakfast (I was the potato peeler). I also had to take two full cans of milk (which she diluted with water) and carry them eight kilometers to the city customers every day. It was difficult for my thirteen­-year-old undernourished, weak body to carry them, but I didn't have a choice.

Once, when Kasprak was in the yard, he saw me as I carried the big buckets of water from the creek up the hill. He looked around, made sure nobody could hear him and said as a joke "Halina, don't work yourself to death ... remember, there are no more Jewish cemeteries . . . " He laughed. What could I say?

His mother-in-law had another idea of how to use a servant. But, that came later. The first night of my new identity almost ended in a disaster. I was assigned a place to sleep, by the old woman, on a huge wooden box (kieter) behind the stove in the kitchen. This was fine with me.

I fell blissfully asleep, a fast and deep sleep like that of childhood. I was warm and not hungry. Suddenly, loud banging at the door woke me up and the room was filled with German Police, Gendarmes. I got numb with fear, behind the stove. How did they find out so quickly who I was? This was the end.

Karprak was not home, only the women were present and all of them scared like hell but went numb.

The Germans made lots of noise, shouting and looking around. What, except me, the only contraband, could they find here? I have no idea what occupation my host had, but knowing what a perfect target I was, I had no doubts that they were after me.

A couple of weeks later, I found out all the other illegal activities going on in Kasprak's house. They were making bimber, the home made vodka which was strictly prohibited.

And because neighbours can't tolerate if somebody is making a better living than they, they promptly reported to the Germans. Love your neighbour.

But this first night of false identity, I had no idea of all these nuances. I knew only one thing. I am illegal. I am supposed be dead. I am here and still alive.

For how long? It was only the first night here and I was already in big trouble. What now? I simply can't move from this "kufer." Fear paralyzed me.

Using flashlights, they searched every corner, checking everybody's documents. Finally, holding a flashlight to my face (I couldn't move, I was still lying on the box), they asked the old woman who I was, if I was her tochter (daughter).. The old woman agreed that yes, I was her daughter. I couldn't believe she was risking her life for me, as she had not shown much sympathy before. The German turned around and went to search further. Not finding anything, they finally left. I was so scared, that I couldn't sleep. I thought if he asked me my name, I probably would have told him Nela Rotbart, forgetting who I was now. What a scare!

The next day, I found out the reason for their visit. I was there when the family opened the box on which I was sleeping. Inside were all kinds of kontrabanda: ham, sausage, meat of all kinds, coffee, sugar; things you couldn't get in a store. This is what the Germans were looking for, not me. That was why this "kind" old woman put me there to sleep, and was quick to admit I was the "tochter.”

I made friends, venturing out every day to the city selling milk house to house. A girl my age, by the name of Basia, who was living with her parents and went to school, befriended me. We had friendly talks, but I kept my secret. The neighbourhood knew me as the orphan who sold milk, but I didn't feel safe meeting so many people just in case somebody recognized me because Bojmie was not far away.

Once, Basia's mother asked me if I could knit. I told her yes, anything she wanted. She had wool, but nobody to knit. She asked me to ask my boss if he would "lend" me for a while to knit sweaters for her family. I felt it would be better it I stayed in one place. Kasprak had nothing against me working there, so I moved to Siedlce to work temporarily in Basia's house. So, I sat in the kitchen knitting from early in the morning until late at night. Food was very scarce and I as always hungry, but I couldn't complain. I lived in a friendly home.

IN SIEDLCE

I slept on the floor because I was afraid I would infest a bed. I got up before everybody so that they would not see me on the floor. I still didn't have underwear and socks, and it was bitterly cold outside.

I looked at Basia and compared her life with mine. A cherished child, she had everything I didn't have: parents, siblings, warm home, food and school. She also didn't have my experiences and the constant fear of being killed. I had nothing against her, but I often wondered how life could be so unfair.

Together, we went to church. It was the first time for me, and I kept a little behind her to copy her behaviour. I did everything she did, and soon felt confident in myself. Sure I was uncomfortable in the church, but being "Catholic", I couldn't avoid this institution.

My employment ended when I ran out of wool. Some of their neighbours who visited them were curious about the orphan and I had to tell my story again about my drunkard father, wicked stepmother, baby etc. One of them asked me if I was interested in working for a family living downtown? A brother's wife was looking for a girl to help with the chores. I said I was interested and said goodbye to Basia and went with the lady.

It was such a good feeling that somebody cared about you, wished to help you (sure not as a Jew, God forbid!) I remember a Jewish joke "It's good to be an orphan"....

Anyway, I didn't suspect that this lady is a business woman who is selling a maid for money. Anyway even knowing this, I would go with her plan, because I didn't have other solutions.

I knew that in some village not far away my sister worked as a maid and Luba too.

So it was a lucky turn in my life that I was brought to the Yastrewskis even only for the fact that in their house I was not starving any more. Sure, I was working hard for this privilege but who was complaining?

The woman who was taking me to downtown where the butcher lives told me I should pray to Jesus to be taken in by such a prominent family. Butchers made a good living even in this wretched time.

She brought me to a brick three storey house with a meat store in the front where we were met by the butcher and his family. Jakab Jostorembski was a fifty year old portly man with a very cynical outlook on the world. He made fun of his forty year old meticulous wife Sabina, who was a religious zealot and he considered her stupid. After ten years of being childless, she finally gave birth to two sons who were at the time seven and nine years old, Heniek and Janek. She spoiled them and Jakab could see it.

They shared a morbid anti-Semitism and affection for the Occupants. The woman who brought me to them was acting like a Good Samaritan, but I later found out from Sabina that she had sold me for one hundred zlotys.

IN THE BUTCHER'S HOUSE

The first evening, Sabina was bathing the boys in a big wooden barrel. After she finished bathing them, and without changing the water, she ordered me to bathe. She asked about my life story with all the details and I had to remember what I had said before, which was not easy because it was a lie. She wanted to know how old the "baby"was, and if my stepmother was pretty, what colour of hair she had, etc. Then, looking at my dirty, battered body, she asked if I was ill. How could I tell the truth? I told her I was not ill. (The world was sick ... killing innocent people.)

The next day, she told me that she had to register me in the magistrate as a new tenant. They would check my background first, to make sure I was really the person I said I was, and not an impostor. She said that some Jews were pretending to be Polish, and they had to be careful....

She was protecting herself and her family. She was not going to cover for a Jew. It was not her intention nor her beliefs to do such a noble thing. Actually, from her point of view, she was right. There were Jews with false identity trying to be Poles like me.

Months later, I had a toothache and was sent to a Polish dentist. In the waiting room were a few patients and I spotted that two of them were Jews (I was the third) with Polish documents. Funny, they noticed me, too, and we tried hard not to speak to each other, not to draw attention.

There were constant rumors about newly discovered bunkers with Jews in hiding, camouflaged so well that after a year, only by chance, they were found. The Poles enjoyed such stories. It was their favourite subject - Jews.

So no wonder that after Sabina told me about an ongoing investigation about my background, I shrunk after that news. I was waiting for the Gestapo to find out that a real Halina existed and to arrest me for being an impostor. Germans lived all around us and many of them were clients of the store. Some officers were personal friends who visited our home and came for dinner.

The one good thing was, I wasn't hungry. There was always enough food in the house. After a few weeks of fear, I got used to it and decided that worrying would not help, so it was better to stop.

Sure, the officers who came to the house were very friendly; some of them asked Sabina if I was her daughter? Funny, but we looked like one another in some way. Sabina, childless for ten years, liked to say that I was her daughter....

SABINA

Unwillingly, Sabina was doing me a favour. Tochter or no tochter, she exploited me fully. I was doing everything from cleaning, washing, scrubbing the floors, helping in the kitchen, and even helped the boys with their homework. It was a nice house, with tenants who lived upstairs, but it had no water or plumbing, only electricity. I went a block down the street to a pump for water.

When I had time, I knitted sweaters, scarves, hats and gloves for the family. Nobody complained. The main thing was that food was plenty and to me it was a miracle I even gained weight.

The only thing that made me hate them was their anti-Semitism. Often, we had German officers for dinner and the standard question my hosts asked was if they had killed many kikes? They told them what a pleasure it was to get rid of them, and thanked the officers.

In the attic, as I hung the laundry to dry, I discovered many big boxes full of leather goods - many pairs of shoes, handbags, jackets and valises. Later, I found out that Jews gave the things to them for safekeeping, when they were taken to Treblinka.

Soon after, I also found out that even with my Polish birth certificate, they suspected I was Jewish. Their boys once teased me saying that their father told them that I looked Jewish. And this was after I faithfully went with them every Sunday to the church, making crosses in all directions?

They had friends, a couple of anti-Semites with whom they shared their suspicions. They often came over, and once, when the whole family was present, they conspired to confront me, to find out the truth. I was knitting something when suddenly this bitch of a woman asked me if I was Jewish. Not lifting my head from my knitting, but feeling my face blushing, I answered that somebody told me that I looked like Sabina. She shut up.

It was 1944, the Germans were losing, the Russians were pushing and the war was going to end. What did this bunch of Jew-haters want from a fourteen year old struggling to survive? How cruel can people be? They were not convinced and asked for help from Sabina's brother who was visiting them, a member of the AK whose main concern was not fighting the Nazis, but finishing off the remaining Jews.

This guy took another approach. He ordered me to read the newspaper out loud to him so that he could check my accent and pronunciation. It wasn't for nothing that I was the top student in the Polish school. They thought they were very smart in setting their traps. It was stupid and cruel. With whom were they fighting? Anyway, I was not expecting a test, but I passed it.

One winter morning, somebody knocked on the door and I almost fainted when I saw my Aunt Luba with a can of milk. She praised Jesus and we answered "amen". Not looking at me, she asked Sabina if she needed milk? I was silent, looked at her (two years had passed since I last saw her) and Sabina asked her for whom she was working. Kasprak, she answered. Everybody in the city knew Kasprak's story, and I thought Sabina agreed to buy the milk out of curiosity. We didn't know each other but I wanted to find out if my sister was alive so badly, but I had no opportunity to talk.

A few weeks later, while carrying water from the pump, I met Luba on the street with her cans. Without stopping, we exchanged a few words. She told me that Eva still worked in Domaine. I felt better.

After the liberation, when I reminded Luba about her visit, she confessed that she came with the intention of seeing me because Kasprak had told her where I was. She almost didn't recognize me since I looked so different, ageless; not a child but not an adult, and this was after I gained weight.

Sabina was a religious fanatic (which her husband resented), and often went to confession. Once, she asked me why I didn't go and I told her I was going the next Sunday. But, it scared me. I had no idea what to do, how to act and the main thing was I didn't know what my sins were.

Like I had nothing more to worry about, I needed this confession, like a hole in my head, but I couldn't say anything. I couldn't refuse her suggestion. (I am a village girl and a Catholic) but I lost my sleep worrying about this whole business.

I was managing fairly well every Sunday with church, and became quite confident, but now this... I was participating even in such religious ceremonies like the confirmation of her nine year old son, Henrik. Sure, as a maid. There were many guests, many clerics in the house and the reception was rich, lots of good food. I was serving.

I was praying on my knees every night before going to sleep. I got used to the wonder words "Jesus, Maria" when I was scared or surprised or pleased. It sounded very artificial for me but what is real about me? I am an imposter.

The next Sunday I got up early and went to "confession" as I told Sabina knowing that she and the children would go to later Mass. I went walking around the church and after a while, knowing that everyone had left, went home. I told her that I did it.

I also had to participate in other religious activities such as "Majewkas" in May, were the people. prayed and sang before the picture of Mary, God's mother. Some neighbours would come to join in the singing. Once, I had to be the leader who loudly named this Mary as the rest sang/prayed... For us! And, who was chosen the leader? Me? I think it was because I was the most literate as I could read well. So, I was on a bench under the picture of Mary, kneeling about the rest who were on the floor on their knees and holding the prayer book. I began in a singsong voice: Holy mother from Chenotochova! - and the people on the floor would say: Pray for us ... and again "Holy mother from . . . " ( don't remember all, there were so many of them that it took more than an hour to name them) and I was really tired. So, I think they were not sure who I was, especially when they trusted me with such a religious ritual.

The front was moving west, and one night they bombed Siedlce. It was so exciting for me and I was absolutely not scared. I watched in fascination as Sabina, holding the boys ran to the shelter and called to me to follow because I was carrying a bag with money and jewellery. I was enjoying the whole thing and thought that now the target is not only me, but also all of them, especially the Germans. Now, their officer friends were subdued and some of them confessed that they were half or wholly Polish.

Sabina was not motherly toward me. She made me work hard for my bread and butter. The laundry was especially hard which took three days to do. I was the main carrier of water, and stood on a bench to reach the "balia". I rubbed all day long as my hands bled. She stood above me as I washed the bloody rags she used during her periods, checking to make sure I was doing a good job.

When we finally heard the rumble of the cannons, Sabina got alarmed; she was not going to risk her precious children's lives. Jakob wanted to look after their property, so he stayed while she left for the country. She hired a truck, took her most cherished pieces of furniture, bedding, clothing, food, the children and the maid. I sat on top of a credenza in the truck (they sat in the cabin), and quite cheerfully watched as others moved from the city, too.

We went twelve kilometers away to a village called Golembiovka and settled with a few other refugees in an empty school. The front approached and the Germans bombed us by day, the Russians bombed us by night. The Russians used the Christmas tree garland of lights, which helped them see the targets. This was a little frightening because you could not see them, but they could see you.

The Germans feared the Katiushas, which was a powerful gun at that time. The men in the refugee group dug a primitive shelter in the yard and we often took refuge there as we thought it was safer than in the building. Surrounding villages were burning, at night the sky was red. One night, I overheard somebody say that the village of Domaine was burning. It alerted me as that was where my sister lived and I had no way of finding out if she was alive. The bombing was going on, and nobody was safe.

LIBERATION

Suddenly, the bombing and the shooting stopped. Silence. Two days passed and nobody came. On the third day, the Russians entered the village. Nobody met them with flowers. I think I was the only one who was happy to see them. Liberation! Why couldn't my family see it? One year too late.

The Poles were reluctant to welcome the Bolsheviks and the new government from the U.S.S.R. One night they had a meeting in the school to discuss the new situation and what they were going to do. I was interested in what they intended on doing, but fell asleep in the middle and never found out what conclusion they came to.

I got bolder, my confidence grew and I had a big desire to visit my sister in Domaine, which was only six kilometers away. But, how could I leave Sabina, and what reason would I give her to go on such a trip?

Soon, I found my excuse.

The refugee women gossiped a lot and Sabina was the leader. Once, I overheard them talking about Kasprak and his crime. Sabina was outraged, such a monster, such a beast even though it happened twenty-five years ago. She couldn't get over it, even after the war, with so many horrors, that just took place. I never participated in these sessions as it wasn't my business, but it was then that I decided to defend my savior.

Suddenly, going from a silent and obedient maid, I became arrogant and outspoken. I told them that Kasprak was a good man, a wonderful human being, and how I couldn't understand how people could judge a person they didn't know.

Sabina was so mad at me; she opened her mouth and couldn't catch her breath. "How dare you! Who are you to talk in such a way? Get out from here!" She was showing who was the boss. But to her surprise, I said fine, I was going, I was leaving.

And so, I left. She called me back, but I walked away along the road that led to Domaine. This was the chance I was looking for. It was a stupid and irresponsible decision. The front, with the havoc, burning villages, dead horses, broken vehicles, guns and bands of AK in the woods....

And, there I was, a fourteen-year-old "hero", walking alone in the woods, not even suspecting what danger I was in. Without the Germans, why should I be afraid? I think that God looks after fools because I safely arrived in Domaine. I marched in and asked where I could see a maid by the name of Sofia Pokora. One woman told me that she worked for the forester.

I walked in the direction she gave me. Upon approaching a group of women working in a field, I recognized one of them ..... Eva - Sofia, I stopped on the road, unsure if I should meet her in public. But, she saw me, too, and she moved in my direction. The other women stopped working and watched. Under their scrutiny, we met like strangers, no hugs nor kisses. She told me to wait until the end of the day and went back to work. I sat in the grass, watching my sister from afar and waited. Finally, we walked to the forester's house. Again, she being the maid, had to first do her chores: milk the cows, feed the animals, cook supper, and feed the baby. It took her a long time to finish her day job and I considered my hard work at Sabina's easier than hers.

Finally, we went to sleep in an empty room in one bed and whispered to each other of what we should do. I was full of plans. We could go to the city and have a life. She was only two years older, sixteen and naive like me, and she agreed to go with me. We decided we would visit Luba at Kasprak’s and she would tell us what to do.

All this last year Luba was working for Kasprak and only he knew who she was. Because her documents were false and made from some other, it was very flimsy and she was afraid that any check up could discover this. So Kasprak with his connections got her a new set, which was more safe.

She was the maid for everything, looking after the baby, chores, selling milk in Siedlce (how she came to me) she even charmed the mad cow, who allowed Luba to milk her.

I think the grouchy mother-in-law of Kasprak was (or should have been) happy with her.

So Luba was for me and Eva our aunt, the eldest and the one who knew what to do now - so we thought.

The next day we again walked together through the woods and the burned villages without an inkling of how dangerous our undertaking was with so many bandits around. It was a hot day in September of 1944 and after many kilometers, we reached Grabianovka, Kasprak's farm near the woods. She left me alone in the forest and went to see Luba. It was a long wait, I even worried if something had happened, but finally Eva came back, her face crimson.

Luba was against the fact we left our employers and that we should have waited until everything had quietened down. The Poles were killing the Jews who were coming out of hiding. They were killing the neighbours they've had forever, refusing to give back their stolen property. The AK were killing because the Jews were happy with the Russians who liberated them, and they feared witnesses. They collaborated with the Nazis and took advantage of their anti-Semitism and hate for the Jews.

Eva commanded that we go back to our employers, so we walked back down the same road. Sabina was happy with my return as she had gotten used to me and needed my help.

We eventually returned to Siedlce were Jakab and his property nicely survived the front and resumed our duties. The difference was that customers were not Germans, but Russians. Now they were courting the Russians.

The front moved west to Warsaw where the Russians stopped. Since the London government orchestrated the Polish uprising, the Russians didn't help, they just watched idly. They had the attitude that if the Poles were so against them, then let the Poles liberate themselves.

We waited so long for the liberation that now, with the Russians around, all our disguises now seemed senseless. Why should I be afraid now to be Jewish? I asked myself naively, not knowing the whole picture and whole situation developing around us.

It is so hard for me now to follow all of the whims of Sabina, pranks of her sons and the anti­-Semitism of the whole family.

The Germans (their friends) gone, they are now courting the Russians. I want to scream seeing this and it outraged me so much - their hypocrisy, their lies. What kind of people are they, these churchgoers, these Catholics and these hatemongers.

I have to leave them, but I don't know where to go. Eva is still in Domanice, Luba at Kasprak’s. When will we come out? Every passing week seems to me like a year. I want to go to school!

In my naivété I didn't think about the practical part of this dream. Where could I get my education and how was I supposed to make a living. I didn't want to be a maid. I didn't want to pretend to be a Catholic and go to church. No way. Now I was rejecting all Gods and all religions. I am not a believer any more.

I was working and my mind was occupied with other things. I could study, get an education and I felt I was wasting time. I became so restless that I began to hint to Sabina that I wanted to see my father (the drunkard) in the hope that he had changed. My plan was to take a day off to look for surviving Jews.

One evening, two drunken Russians came in and continued drinking. One of them was showing a German Iron Cross he got in a battle. The cross fell accidentally on the floor and we couldn't find it. The Russians left but the next morning, when I was washing the floor, I found the cross. I didn't want to give it to the brats to play with, they were never good to me, so I gave it to a nice neighbour boy who was nine years old. After that, I forgot about the whole thing.

On the next market day, Sabina allowed me to go and look for my father. I went to walk the streets in search of a Jewish face, but I was unlucky. I didn't see any Jews. So, I looked for Russian/Jewish faces, but it was hard for me to explain what I was looking for. Tired and disappointed, I dragged myself stubbornly and finally asked an old Pole with a kind face if he knew if there were any Jews in the city? He knew of some and gave me their address.

I knocked on the door and a Jewish woman opened it. I asked her if she was Jewish and she said she was and invited me in. There, in the room, was an older man and a younger man. I was unable to speak, I was so overwhelmed, and so I cried. I sobbed so desperately, the first time in years. These were my people; I didn't have to pretend to be somebody else. After a while, I told them a shortened version of my story and what I was now. They offered me to join their "community" and to bring my sister.

They were very kind to me, even though they themselves were in a very precarious position, in danger from the bandits who continued to kill the remaining Jews. They didn't want (the Poles) witnesses of their crimes, and most of all, they didn't want to part with the Jewish property.

The Russians, occupied with the war, didn't have any time for such little conflicts. They were still fighting the Germans. Later, they took some measures to liquidate the bands of AK especially when some Russians were killed by them.

By the way, the future husband of my sister, Paul Berger, was sent to Siedlce with an Army unit to fight the AK (this was in 1945). That was how they met, Eva and Paul, in Siedlce.

But by this time, the remaining Jews were fleeing Poland to the West to escape the danger. In the end, my relatives did the same. They escaped to DP camps, then further to the West.

When I returned home later with red, swollen eyes, Sabina concluded that my reunion with my father was very emotional. I told her that I was leaving with him because I wanted to go to school and she even offered to send me to school. I left with a little bundle, clothing she had given me before, and a little silver cross to wear around my neck for.my birthday. I was sure they speculated about my nationality, but I didn't reveal my identity, as I was smarter now.

If they had been decent, kind people, our parting might have been different because unwillingly, they helped me survive. But, they were not. They collaborated with the Germans and their cruel anti­-Semitism, tormenting me with their suspicions. And, I worked for my upkeep. But, when they later found out that I was really Jewish, it made them furious that I cheated them and stupid Sabina got her revenge.

How did they found out? A neighbour of my new friends saw me and reported to them. One day, Sabina came to our Community with a Polish policeman, claiming that I took the Russian medal (that I had found on the floor and gave away) and that the Russians who lost it were demanding it from her. She grabbed my bundle, as I watched open-mouthed, and not finding the medal, she "confiscated" my little chain she gave me as a gift. She told me I didn't deserve it. She also took a photo of me with her family (I don't belong to them, she explained) and departed with the embarrassed policeman. She was so mad that I was Jewish and that she "helped" me.. .

That was my last encounter with Sabina. That was the pious Christian woman who spent more time in church than at home.

Now, I was going back to Domaine for my sister. It was a long way, but now I was not shy to ask for a ride on a Russian truck. The Russians were kind to us. This time, Eva didn't ask questions. She stopped what she was doing and said goodbye to her disappointed employers. She didn't tell them who she was, either. We didn't waste time by asking for Luba's advice; we went straight to the Jewish survivors on Pilsudskiego Street.

We kept together, and the hostility of the Poles turned to violence. With the help of the bandits from the AK, they were finishing off the remaining Jews. How ironic, to go through hell and survive by a miracle, and then be killed after liberation? How can people be so inhuman? A married Jewish couple, the wife pregnant, rented an apartment in order to begin a normal family life. Bandits came and shot them, acting during the night so that the cowards could avoid the Russians.

After a few weeks, Luba joined our community and we had to make some kind of living.

WORKING IN A RUSSIAN HOSPITAL

I went to a Russian hospital to ask for work. They hired all three of us. We worked only for food and shelter, not pay. For us, it was safer to be under Russian protection and not to be alone. We settled in the dormitory, which was occupied by forty to fifty women and girls. We worked in different departments.

I worked in the pharmacy, washing used bottles and jars. The water was cold and my hands were always red. Eva worked on the ward as a nurse's assistant washing bedpans and helping the wounded, etc. Luba worked with a seamstress as a helper. She always complained about her moody boss. We ate in the "stolova" where the food was simple and of poor quality, but the main thing was, we were not going to starve.

The kitchen of the pharmacy where I washed the bottles was not used for cooking and the room was always cold. The door to the outside was constantly used and I got boils on my head from the cold. This was not a picnic. I made a sign that said to “please close the door because it is cold” and they laughed at me.

We befriended the only Jewish girl by the name of Sima. She was almost toothless, black, and not pretty but a kind soul. Somebody had knocked out her teeth.

The front was still near Warsaw and the wounded were arriving daily so we worked twelve hours a day.

The hospital had a club for the staff and recovering soldiers. It was there I saw my first movie .. I was very impressed! Otherwise, it was a dancing hall for the nurses and troops.

The Germans often bombed us at night, but the Russians had powerful guns and the Germans didn't do much damage.

Many doctors were Jewish and were kind to us, but didn't show much interest in the "Jewish question" and the way the Nazis "solved" it. Maybe they knew and didn't want to ask. We were not eager to talk, either.

I was constantly thinking that I was wasting my life, that I should have been studying and getting an education. Talking with the Russians about schools, I got interesting information, that they had special schools in Russia for people like me who lost years of schooling because of the war. There, one could catch up with their age group, doing two grades in one year! This was an idea I liked and I dreamed while I washed the bottles of getting into such a special school. They boasted that internationalism was a rule in Russia, racism was prosecuted and everybody was equal. What could be better?

After six years under the Nazis's rule, the idea of equality impressed me so very much. I wanted to go to a country where you could be Jewish and not be afraid. I didn't know much about the Soviets, but I knew they were my liberators and that was enough. I wanted out of Poland, out of the cemetery where the soil was soaked with Jewish blood.

At the end of the winter, the hospital moved west and we were left behind in Siedlce. We had to look for a place to stay. We occupied a room that was left by a Russian officer in a Polish household. The Polish family hated to live so close to Jews and reported to the Russian administration. The Russians immediately evicted us. The Polish were happy. After licking German boots, now they were licking the Russian's.

Siedlce now had a Jewish Community Committee, and we asked for help to find housing. Soon, we got a little attic room which was not habitable until we cleaned it and got one iron bed for all three of us to sleep in. The main thing was that Luba got her sewing machine that she had left in Sluchotin, her last home where she lived with Maryanka.

Actually, the Poles refused to give it back, claiming it was theirs until Luba pointed at the cover that had a Hebrew inscription and asked if that was theirs, too? They had the nerve to say it was. Only with the help of a Russian soldier with a rifle was she able to get the machine back. Then she went to Sionna where their old house was and sold the house for two pairs of shoes.

The customer who bought Zaida's land so cheap was an old family friend .... Luba told us that when she went in 1942 to his door and asked for one night of shelter, he hesitantly agreed and allowed her to stay in his barn. That night, he came to the barn and demanded sex for his kindness. Luba ran away from him around the barn, and as he chased her he pleaded and asked her why she refused since they would kill her anyway, why die a virgin? She managed to runaway in the middle of the night. A folksdeutsch and a Polish family occupied our old house. When Eva and I showed up, they got very aggressive. They told us that if we tried to sell the house they would burn it down and kill us. A few weeks later I decided to leave so I signed a legal document signing my rights of the property to my sister. It was in vain because Eva ended up leaving it behind, too. It was not worth to lose our hard earned lives for property.

The Jews of Siedlce wanted to properly celebrate the first Passover after liberation with matzos. Volunteers were invited to roll it by hand and I was one of them. For three days I rolled, which made blisters on my hands, but I got free matzos for Passover. We had nothing to celebrate with except for the matzos. Luba served to earn a little and Eva helped her.

I was determined to go to school, but I knew that I couldn't do that in Poland so I decided to apply in Russia. I knew that if I didn't help myself that nobody would.

The Russian Commandant was in charge of the city, and without an appointment since I didn't know I was supposed to make one, I arrived in the Commandant's office. I sneaked behind the guards and entered the waiting room with a group of officers. I was the only woman there among many military men. I waited all day while the adjutant called people in, one after the other. It was late in the evening, after the last visitor left that he noticed my small figure in the corner.

The General asked me what I wanted and I told him that I didn't have parents and wanted to study in a special school in Russia. They were both tired and tried to get rid of me and gave me a piece of paper. "Spravka".

"To whom it may concern.

To the Director of special school.

We are sending you a war orphan who wanted to study. Please help her.

General Jablochkov"

I took my trophy to Eva and Luba and told them I was leaving. I simply explained my point of view. I felt I had won my life through a lottery and now I could do with it whatever I wanted and my desire was to get an education. An education was free in Russia and people were equal. The law prosecuted anti-Semitism, and that was it! They didn't argue with me.

I had to investigate which transport was leaving for Russia. From what I heard, they were formed in the city of Lublin. The next day I was riding in a cattle car to Lublin. A lot of people were going in this direction so no tickets were needed. Some of them were returning from camps, some were smugglers and I was among this crowd. Nobody paid attention to me. So many war orphans were around and nobody asked me any questions.

In Lublin, I found the office where people were collected in transports going east. My paper was enough to qualify me for such a trip. I spent the next night on a train going back to Siedlce It was on the last day that I wrote another poem and called it "Goodbye" which I left under my sister's pillow to be found after I left.

I felt I had to be dramatic. That was my emotional state and I felt that I was going to leave my only sister forever. I had already signed the document pronouncing her to be the only heir of our property. I found out years later that she was trying to get the few rings my parents had buried under the floor. When we were deported to the ghetto, we didn't have time to dig them out in the view of the Nazis. So, in 1945 my sister went with a friend to Bojmie and in the presence of the "tenants" began to dig. They took the tenants by surprise, but not for long. Soon the police came and took them to the station where the Russians ruled. After explaining the situation, showing that they didn't find anything, they left to go back to Siedlce­.

I can imagine how the Poles were digging after they left to find the Jewish treasures; maybe they are still digging.

Anyway, everything was left to them. When I was in Lublin, I went to the Jewish Committee which dealt mostly with Jews who were returning from Russia. Here I was, in 1945 and going there? They were surprised and even tried to persuade me to turn around and go back. But, I was obsessed with the idea of schooling and was stubborn. In my poem "Goodbye" I wrote:

"Far away in a new city, new country

I wanted to forget this cursed land.

There, I will be one of the crowd

Not pointed out to be killed ....

And I ended with this:

"I am going away.

But I will never forget

This lonely grave

In the woods ....

Goodbye! You who can't hear me

I am going for life

But will I be happy again?

Who knows... "

Very sentimental, but for some reason, I was feeling that I had to say "Goodbye." I was not yet fifteen years old.

So, I was ready, with a little bundle of clothing, a red raincoat with a matching hat and pink shoes from the Jewish Committee.