Escape of Jews From Poland to the Soviet Union at the
Beginning of the War
November 15, 1939
...There is no present and no future for young Jews. They escape for their
lives. They get away by different methods: on foot, by auto, train, carts and
every other kind of transport. The border is open. The Soviets do nothing to
prevent it.* The occupying forces have no fixed system. You can never know
what is forbidden and what is allowed. In a word one day they are lenient and
one day severe. It is understandable: Where the heart is harsh and cruel there
is no set and fixed system. And, in addition, what one authority permits, the
other forbids. At the beginning of the Occupation the border was open.
Anybody could cross without written permission, and those who wanted to
stand in a queue for three days were not prevented from getting written
permission; this stated clearly that the bearer of the letter was permitted to
cross the border to Russia with his goods and chattels and that he was
authorized to make use of any form of transport. That is what it said in writing.
In reality the roads were beset with dangers. According to the "Regulations"
persons crossing the border could take only 20 Zloty with them. This was a
sadistic law that could not be observed. Devices were therefore thought up in
order to smuggle larger sums across, and here many failed. People were
robbed and beaten on the way and left naked, with everything gone. The
Border Guards knew that the blood and the money of the Jews were outside
the law. And they dealt with people crossing the border as the spirit moved
them. From this time the border-crossers preferred to cross without
permission. They had no confidence in the legalisms of the Occupying Power.
When they crossed quietly they were more secure. There simply was no
refugee who did not take with him a sum of money larger than that which the
"Regulations" permitted. And so the "green border" [clandestine border
crossing] became known among the refugees, together with the expert guides
who earned huge sums from this "trade."
It is reliably estimated that more than a million** refugees escaped to Russia.
However many came they were still well received. But where was this great
mass of people to go? A small part, particularly those with a trade, have
already been moved to the interior of Russia. As to the majority either they
had money with them and could eat, or they had nothing and hungered and
thirsted....
...There is no present and no future for young Jews. They escape for their
lives. They get away by different methods: on foot, by auto, train, carts and
every other kind of transport. The border is open. The Soviets do nothing to
prevent it.* The occupying forces have no fixed system. You can never know
what is forbidden and what is allowed. In a word one day they are lenient and
one day severe. It is understandable: Where the heart is harsh and cruel there
is no set and fixed system. And, in addition, what one authority permits, the
other forbids. At the beginning of the Occupation the border was open.
Anybody could cross without written permission, and those who wanted to
stand in a queue for three days were not prevented from getting written
permission; this stated clearly that the bearer of the letter was permitted to
cross the border to Russia with his goods and chattels and that he was
authorized to make use of any form of transport. That is what it said in writing.
In reality the roads were beset with dangers. According to the "Regulations"
persons crossing the border could take only 20 Zloty with them. This was a
sadistic law that could not be observed. Devices were therefore thought up in
order to smuggle larger sums across, and here many failed. People were
robbed and beaten on the way and left naked, with everything gone. The
Border Guards knew that the blood and the money of the Jews were outside
the law. And they dealt with people crossing the border as the spirit moved
them. From this time the border-crossers preferred to cross without
permission. They had no confidence in the legalisms of the Occupying Power.
When they crossed quietly they were more secure. There simply was no
refugee who did not take with him a sum of money larger than that which the
"Regulations" permitted. And so the "green border" [clandestine border
crossing] became known among the refugees, together with the expert guides
who earned huge sums from this "trade."
It is reliably estimated that more than a million** refugees escaped to Russia.
However many came they were still well received. But where was this great
mass of people to go? A small part, particularly those with a trade, have
already been moved to the interior of Russia. As to the majority either they
had money with them and could eat, or they had nothing and hungered and
thirsted....
Description of the Riot in Dinslaken
...I recognized a Jewish face. In a few words the stranger explained to me: "I
am the president of the Jewish community of Duesseldorf. I spent the night in
the waiting-room of the Gelsenkirchen Railway Station. I have only one
request - let me take refuge in the orphanage for a short while. While I was
traveling to Dinslaken I heard in the train that anti-Semitic riots had broken out
everywhere, and that many Jews had been arrested. Synagogues everywhere
are burning!"
With anxiety I listened to the man's story; suddenly he said with a trembling
voice: "No, I won't come in! I can't be safe in your house! We are all lost!" With
these words he disappeared into the dark fog which cast a veil over the
morning. I never saw him again.
In spite of this Jobs message I forced myself not to show any sign of emotion.
Only thus could I avoid a state of panic among the children and tutors.
Nonetheless I was of the opinion that the young students should be prepared
to brave the storm of the approaching catastrophe. About 7:30 A.M. I ordered
46 people, among them 32 children, into the dining hall of the institution and
told them the following in a simple and brief address:
"As you know, last night a Herr vom Rath, a member of the German Embassy
in Paris, was assassinated. The Jews are held responsible for this murder.
The high tension in the political field is now being directed against the Jews,
and during the next few hours there will certainly be anti-Semitic excesses.
This will happen even in our town. It is my feeling and my impression that we
German Jews have never experienced such calamities since the Middle Ages.
Be strong! Trust in God! I am sure we will withstand even these hard times.
Nobody will remain in the rooms of the upper floor of the building. The exit
door to the street will be opened only by myself! From this moment on
everyone is to heed my orders only!"
After breakfast the pupils were sent to the large study-hall of the institution.
The teacher in charge tried to keep them busy. At 9:30 A.M. the bell at the
main gate rang persistently. I opened the door:
about 50 men stormed into the house, many of them with their coat- or
jacketcollars turned up. At first they rushed into the dining room, which fortunately
was empty, and there they began their work of destruction, which was carried
out with the utmost precision. The frightened and fearful cries of the children
resounded through the building. In a stentorian voice I shouted: "Children, go
out into the street immediately!" This advice was certainly contrary to the
orders of the Gestapo. I thought, however, that in the street, in a public place,
we might be in less danger than inside the house. The children immediately
ran down a small staircase at the back, most of them without hat or coat
despite the cold and wet weather. We tried to reach the next street crossing,
which was close to Dinslakens Town Hall, where I intended to ask for police
protection. About ten policemen were stationed here, reason enough for a
sensation-seeking mob to await the next development. This was not very long
in coming; the senior police officer, Freihahn, shouted at us: "Jews do not get
protection from us! Vacate the area together with your children as quickly as
possible!" Freihahn then chased us back to a side street in the direction of the
backyard of the orphanage. As I was unable to hand over the key of the back
gate, the policeman drew his bayonet and forced open the door. I then said to
Freihahn: "The best thing is to kill me and the children, then our ordeal will be
over quickly!" The officer responded to my "suggestion" merely with cynical
laughter. Freihahn then drove all of us to the wet lawn of the orphanage
garden. He gave us strict orders not to leave the place under any
circumstances.
Facing the back of the building, we were able to watch how everything in the
house was being systematically destroyed under the supervision of the men of
law and order, the police. At short intervals we could hear the crunching of
glass or the hammering against wood as windows and doors were broken.
Books, chairs, beds, tables, linen, chests, parts of a piano, a radiogram, and
maps were thrown through apertures in the wall, which a short while ago had
been windows or doors.
In the meantime the mob standing around the building had grown to several
hundred. Among these people I recognized some familiar faces, suppliers of
the orphanage or tradespeople, who only a day or a week earlier had been
happy to deal with us as customers. This time they were passive, watching
the destruction without much emotion.
At 10:15 A.M. we heard the wailing of sirens! We noticed a heavy cloud of
smoke billowing upward. It was obvious from the direction it was coming from
that the Nazis had set the synagogue on fire. Very soon we saw smokeclouds
rising up, mixed with sparks of fire. Later I noticed that some Jewish
houses, close to the synagogue, had also been set alight under the expert
guidance of the fire-brigade. Its presence was a necessity, since the firemen
had to save the homes of the non-Jewish neighborhood....
In the schoolyard we had to wait for some time. Several Jews, who had
escaped the previous arrest and deportation to concentration camps, joined
our gathering. Many of them, mostly women, were shabbily dressed. They told
me that the brown hordes had driven them out of their homes, ordered them
to leave everything behind and come at once, under Nazi guard, to the
schoolyard. A stormtrooper in charge commanded some bystanders to leave
the schoolyard "since there is no point in even looking at such scum!"
In the meantime our "family" had increased to 90, all of whom were placed in
a small hall in the school. Nobody was allowed to leave the place. Men
considered physically fit were called for duty. Only those over 60, among them
people of 75 years of age, were allowed to stay. Very soon we learned that
the entire Jewish male population under 60 had already been transferred to
the concentration camp at Dachau. During their initial waiting period, while still
under police custody, the Jewish men had been allowed to buy their own food.
This state of affairs, however, only lasted for a few hours.
I learned very soon from a policeman, who in his heart was still an anti-Nazi,
that most of the Jewish men had been beaten up by members of the SA
before being transported to Dachau. They were kicked, slapped in the face,
and subjected to all sorts of humiliation. Many of those exposed to this type of
ill-treatment had served in the German army during World War I. One of them,
a Mr. Hugo B.C., had once worn with pride the Iron Cross First Class (the
German equivalent of the Victoria Cross), which he had been awarded for
bravery....
am the president of the Jewish community of Duesseldorf. I spent the night in
the waiting-room of the Gelsenkirchen Railway Station. I have only one
request - let me take refuge in the orphanage for a short while. While I was
traveling to Dinslaken I heard in the train that anti-Semitic riots had broken out
everywhere, and that many Jews had been arrested. Synagogues everywhere
are burning!"
With anxiety I listened to the man's story; suddenly he said with a trembling
voice: "No, I won't come in! I can't be safe in your house! We are all lost!" With
these words he disappeared into the dark fog which cast a veil over the
morning. I never saw him again.
In spite of this Jobs message I forced myself not to show any sign of emotion.
Only thus could I avoid a state of panic among the children and tutors.
Nonetheless I was of the opinion that the young students should be prepared
to brave the storm of the approaching catastrophe. About 7:30 A.M. I ordered
46 people, among them 32 children, into the dining hall of the institution and
told them the following in a simple and brief address:
"As you know, last night a Herr vom Rath, a member of the German Embassy
in Paris, was assassinated. The Jews are held responsible for this murder.
The high tension in the political field is now being directed against the Jews,
and during the next few hours there will certainly be anti-Semitic excesses.
This will happen even in our town. It is my feeling and my impression that we
German Jews have never experienced such calamities since the Middle Ages.
Be strong! Trust in God! I am sure we will withstand even these hard times.
Nobody will remain in the rooms of the upper floor of the building. The exit
door to the street will be opened only by myself! From this moment on
everyone is to heed my orders only!"
After breakfast the pupils were sent to the large study-hall of the institution.
The teacher in charge tried to keep them busy. At 9:30 A.M. the bell at the
main gate rang persistently. I opened the door:
about 50 men stormed into the house, many of them with their coat- or
jacketcollars turned up. At first they rushed into the dining room, which fortunately
was empty, and there they began their work of destruction, which was carried
out with the utmost precision. The frightened and fearful cries of the children
resounded through the building. In a stentorian voice I shouted: "Children, go
out into the street immediately!" This advice was certainly contrary to the
orders of the Gestapo. I thought, however, that in the street, in a public place,
we might be in less danger than inside the house. The children immediately
ran down a small staircase at the back, most of them without hat or coat
despite the cold and wet weather. We tried to reach the next street crossing,
which was close to Dinslakens Town Hall, where I intended to ask for police
protection. About ten policemen were stationed here, reason enough for a
sensation-seeking mob to await the next development. This was not very long
in coming; the senior police officer, Freihahn, shouted at us: "Jews do not get
protection from us! Vacate the area together with your children as quickly as
possible!" Freihahn then chased us back to a side street in the direction of the
backyard of the orphanage. As I was unable to hand over the key of the back
gate, the policeman drew his bayonet and forced open the door. I then said to
Freihahn: "The best thing is to kill me and the children, then our ordeal will be
over quickly!" The officer responded to my "suggestion" merely with cynical
laughter. Freihahn then drove all of us to the wet lawn of the orphanage
garden. He gave us strict orders not to leave the place under any
circumstances.
Facing the back of the building, we were able to watch how everything in the
house was being systematically destroyed under the supervision of the men of
law and order, the police. At short intervals we could hear the crunching of
glass or the hammering against wood as windows and doors were broken.
Books, chairs, beds, tables, linen, chests, parts of a piano, a radiogram, and
maps were thrown through apertures in the wall, which a short while ago had
been windows or doors.
In the meantime the mob standing around the building had grown to several
hundred. Among these people I recognized some familiar faces, suppliers of
the orphanage or tradespeople, who only a day or a week earlier had been
happy to deal with us as customers. This time they were passive, watching
the destruction without much emotion.
At 10:15 A.M. we heard the wailing of sirens! We noticed a heavy cloud of
smoke billowing upward. It was obvious from the direction it was coming from
that the Nazis had set the synagogue on fire. Very soon we saw smokeclouds
rising up, mixed with sparks of fire. Later I noticed that some Jewish
houses, close to the synagogue, had also been set alight under the expert
guidance of the fire-brigade. Its presence was a necessity, since the firemen
had to save the homes of the non-Jewish neighborhood....
In the schoolyard we had to wait for some time. Several Jews, who had
escaped the previous arrest and deportation to concentration camps, joined
our gathering. Many of them, mostly women, were shabbily dressed. They told
me that the brown hordes had driven them out of their homes, ordered them
to leave everything behind and come at once, under Nazi guard, to the
schoolyard. A stormtrooper in charge commanded some bystanders to leave
the schoolyard "since there is no point in even looking at such scum!"
In the meantime our "family" had increased to 90, all of whom were placed in
a small hall in the school. Nobody was allowed to leave the place. Men
considered physically fit were called for duty. Only those over 60, among them
people of 75 years of age, were allowed to stay. Very soon we learned that
the entire Jewish male population under 60 had already been transferred to
the concentration camp at Dachau. During their initial waiting period, while still
under police custody, the Jewish men had been allowed to buy their own food.
This state of affairs, however, only lasted for a few hours.
I learned very soon from a policeman, who in his heart was still an anti-Nazi,
that most of the Jewish men had been beaten up by members of the SA
before being transported to Dachau. They were kicked, slapped in the face,
and subjected to all sorts of humiliation. Many of those exposed to this type of
ill-treatment had served in the German army during World War I. One of them,
a Mr. Hugo B.C., had once worn with pride the Iron Cross First Class (the
German equivalent of the Victoria Cross), which he had been awarded for
bravery....
“What is to Become of Me?”
Diary Entry of Moshe Flinker, a Young Jewish Refugee in
Belgium - December 8, 1942
December 8, Night
Shortly after we came to Brussels and found an apartment, my mother began
to question my father about my future. I was spending my days idly. At times I
read Hebrew, but my mother considered that this would lead nowhere. The first
time she expressed her views, I laughed, and even father paid little attention to
them. I wondered how she could worry about a happy future when we were
faced with the problem of life or death. My father gave her a similar answer
whenever she broached the subject to him.
During the last few days when my mother raised the question of my future, my
reaction was again one of laughter, but when I was alone, I too began to
ponder this matter. What indeed is to become of me? It is obvious that the
present situation will not last forever – perhaps another year of two – but what
will happen then? One day I will have to earn my own living. At first I wanted to
drive such thoughts away but they kept coming back. So I started thinking
seriously about the problem. After much deliberation, I’ve decided to become…
a statesman. Not any sort of statesman, but a Jewish statesman in the Land of
Israel. Even though it would take a miracle to free us now, the rest of my idea –
living in our land – isn’t so far-fetched. Then perhaps, the rest of the world
might slightly change its attitude towards us. The relations between other
nations may also alter a bit. But our people are so exiled-minded that many
generations would have to pass before we became a free people physically
and mentally (the latter is the main thing). That is why we will need leaders to
guide us in the road to true spiritual freedom.
Another reason for my deciding to become a leader of our people if that other
arts require a great deal of study. Statesmanship, as opposed to science, does
not demand systematic study, an activity which is impossible for me these
days. Rather, everything one knows is useful, and most useful of all is knowing
how to use one’s head. And, of course, as a “religious” Jew, I hope that the
Lord will help me when my own intelligence is inadequate.
Therefore, from today on, everything I do will be directed towards this aim. Of
course, I will continue to study the Bible, because only according to its spirit
can Israel survive. In addition, I will learn as much as I can about Judaism and
about my people.
Now for today’s news: the man from The Hague who tried to get to Switzerland
had just returned to Brussels. It seems that the people who were to help him
cross the borders were liars. In the middle of the journey they suddenly jumped
from the train. So he jumped after them, thinking that now they were going to
get him into Switzerland. In jumping through a window, he hurt his hand. When
he recovered from his fall, his guides were nowhere to be seen. He waited
some time for them and then understood that he had been tricked. After many
hardships – he had to go two days without eating – he got back to Brussels. All
this cost him a lot of money. Now my father feels strengthened in his views
because all the time my mother has done nothing but praise this man, his
decisiveness, his forthrightness, etc.
But now it seems that difficulties have arisen in renewing our permits to stay in
Brussels. Tomorrow our three months are up, but my father is hopeful that we
will get our extensions. It’s late, so I’ll go to bed. I’ll close with this verse from
the Bible: “Though your dispersed were in the uttermost part of heaven, yet will
I gather them from thence.”
Shortly after we came to Brussels and found an apartment, my mother began
to question my father about my future. I was spending my days idly. At times I
read Hebrew, but my mother considered that this would lead nowhere. The first
time she expressed her views, I laughed, and even father paid little attention to
them. I wondered how she could worry about a happy future when we were
faced with the problem of life or death. My father gave her a similar answer
whenever she broached the subject to him.
During the last few days when my mother raised the question of my future, my
reaction was again one of laughter, but when I was alone, I too began to
ponder this matter. What indeed is to become of me? It is obvious that the
present situation will not last forever – perhaps another year of two – but what
will happen then? One day I will have to earn my own living. At first I wanted to
drive such thoughts away but they kept coming back. So I started thinking
seriously about the problem. After much deliberation, I’ve decided to become…
a statesman. Not any sort of statesman, but a Jewish statesman in the Land of
Israel. Even though it would take a miracle to free us now, the rest of my idea –
living in our land – isn’t so far-fetched. Then perhaps, the rest of the world
might slightly change its attitude towards us. The relations between other
nations may also alter a bit. But our people are so exiled-minded that many
generations would have to pass before we became a free people physically
and mentally (the latter is the main thing). That is why we will need leaders to
guide us in the road to true spiritual freedom.
Another reason for my deciding to become a leader of our people if that other
arts require a great deal of study. Statesmanship, as opposed to science, does
not demand systematic study, an activity which is impossible for me these
days. Rather, everything one knows is useful, and most useful of all is knowing
how to use one’s head. And, of course, as a “religious” Jew, I hope that the
Lord will help me when my own intelligence is inadequate.
Therefore, from today on, everything I do will be directed towards this aim. Of
course, I will continue to study the Bible, because only according to its spirit
can Israel survive. In addition, I will learn as much as I can about Judaism and
about my people.
Now for today’s news: the man from The Hague who tried to get to Switzerland
had just returned to Brussels. It seems that the people who were to help him
cross the borders were liars. In the middle of the journey they suddenly jumped
from the train. So he jumped after them, thinking that now they were going to
get him into Switzerland. In jumping through a window, he hurt his hand. When
he recovered from his fall, his guides were nowhere to be seen. He waited
some time for them and then understood that he had been tricked. After many
hardships – he had to go two days without eating – he got back to Brussels. All
this cost him a lot of money. Now my father feels strengthened in his views
because all the time my mother has done nothing but praise this man, his
decisiveness, his forthrightness, etc.
But now it seems that difficulties have arisen in renewing our permits to stay in
Brussels. Tomorrow our three months are up, but my father is hopeful that we
will get our extensions. It’s late, so I’ll go to bed. I’ll close with this verse from
the Bible: “Though your dispersed were in the uttermost part of heaven, yet will
I gather them from thence.”
From the Memoirs of Leesha Rose about the Deportations
from the Netherlands
“Every day we heard stories about parents, relatives, neighbors, and friends
being torn from their homes for deportation, leaving behind all their worldly
possessions – all that they had worked and strived for during their productive
lives. People of the highest standing – educators, artists, leaders in business,
young and old, rich and poor – were being reduced to helpless creatures and
treated like dirt. Young people, even children, who had not begun to taste life,
whose future was still before them, were being subjected with malicious
sadism to the cruelest abuse and suffering. Before long the rounding up of
people for deportation became the order of the day. We stopped asking why,
we stopped crying, we tried to protect ourselves from the scenes of constant
pain by simulating nonchalance.”
being torn from their homes for deportation, leaving behind all their worldly
possessions – all that they had worked and strived for during their productive
lives. People of the highest standing – educators, artists, leaders in business,
young and old, rich and poor – were being reduced to helpless creatures and
treated like dirt. Young people, even children, who had not begun to taste life,
whose future was still before them, were being subjected with malicious
sadism to the cruelest abuse and suffering. Before long the rounding up of
people for deportation became the order of the day. We stopped asking why,
we stopped crying, we tried to protect ourselves from the scenes of constant
pain by simulating nonchalance.”
Farewell Letter Written by Ellie Kulka to Her Husband
Ellie Kulka, wife of prisoner no. 73043 wrote this letter to her husband on June
30th, 1944 whilst waiting to be taken to the gas chamber.
My darling,
On this, the last night of my life, I bid you farewell. Our days of happiness
were short-lived, but beautiful. At this moment I am remembering our love,
from its beautiful beginning until its cruel end. You were the love of my life,
and I would willingly have sacrificed everything to save you. And our innocent
little Otto – why has it been decreed that this rough, ruthless hand should put
an end to his short life?
I remember my loved ones for the last time. If you are lucky enough to see
them again, I send a last kiss to my beloved sister, to my brother and Olga, to
Maxi and Lidi, and especially to Danny and Lianka, with all my heart. I wish
them all a happier life than our own. They must fight bravely for our freedom
and avenge the innocent blood of their loved ones.
My darling, thank you with all my heart for your devotion, your love, and for
the happiness you have given me. Stay the way you are today – a dauntless
hero who never gives in. I will think of you and pray for your rescue until my
last breath. Lastly, please send my best wishes to all your friends.
Farewell, love of my life! Ellie and your little Otto send you kisses for the last
time!
Goodbye
Auschwitz Birkenau
30th, 1944 whilst waiting to be taken to the gas chamber.
My darling,
On this, the last night of my life, I bid you farewell. Our days of happiness
were short-lived, but beautiful. At this moment I am remembering our love,
from its beautiful beginning until its cruel end. You were the love of my life,
and I would willingly have sacrificed everything to save you. And our innocent
little Otto – why has it been decreed that this rough, ruthless hand should put
an end to his short life?
I remember my loved ones for the last time. If you are lucky enough to see
them again, I send a last kiss to my beloved sister, to my brother and Olga, to
Maxi and Lidi, and especially to Danny and Lianka, with all my heart. I wish
them all a happier life than our own. They must fight bravely for our freedom
and avenge the innocent blood of their loved ones.
My darling, thank you with all my heart for your devotion, your love, and for
the happiness you have given me. Stay the way you are today – a dauntless
hero who never gives in. I will think of you and pray for your rescue until my
last breath. Lastly, please send my best wishes to all your friends.
Farewell, love of my life! Ellie and your little Otto send you kisses for the last
time!
Goodbye
Auschwitz Birkenau