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i P r e face LIFE IN TRANSIT JEWS IN POSTWAR LODZ, 1945-1950 ii P r e fac e Studies in Russian and Slavic Literatures, Cultures and History Series Editor: Lazar Fleishman iii P r e face LIFE IN TRANSIT JEWS IN POSTWAR LODZ, 1945-1950 Shimon Redlich Boston 2010 iv P r e fac e Library of Congress DATA Redlich, Shimon. Life in transit : Jews in postwar Lsdz, 1945-1950 / Shimon Redlich. p. cm. -- (Studies in Russian and Slavic literatures, cultures and history) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-1-936235-21-6 (hardback) 1. Jews--Poland--Lsdz--History--20th century. 2. Holocaust survivors--Poland--Lsdz-History--20th century. 3. Redlich, Shimon. 4. Holocaust survivors--Israel--Travel-Poland--Personal narratives. 5. Holocaust, Jewish (1939-1945)--Personal narratives. 6. Lsdz (Poland)--Biography. 7. Lsdz (Poland)--Ethnic relations. I. Title. DS134.62.R43 2010 940.53'18092--dc22 [B] 2010043240 Copyright © 2010 Academic Studies Press All rights reserved ISBN 978-1-9346235-21-6 (hardback) Book design by Adell Medovoy Published by Academic Studies Press in 2010 28 Montfern Avenue Brighton, MA 02135, USA press@academicstudiespress.com www.academicstudiespress.com v P r e fac e For my teachers and friends from the Hebrew Ghetto Fighters’ School in Lodz P r e fac e TABLE OF CONTENTS PREFACE AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS A NOTE ON TRANSLITERATION MAPS 1. MY LODZ MEMORIES 2. POSTWAR LODZ 3. JEWS IN POSTWAR LODZ 4. FRIENDS, ACQUAINTANCES, STRANGERS 5. SURVIVING War: The First Days The Eastward Trek Inside Russia In the Soviet South Returning to Poland In the Ghettos In the Camps On the Aryan Side 6. THE ZIONISTS 7. THE OTHERS EPILOGUE CONCLUDING REMARKS vii ix xii xiv 1 29 53 87 109 120 123 125 133 138 140 143 146 151 181 203 211 viii P r e fac e BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 215 NOTES 223 1. My Lodz Memories 223 2. Postwar Lodz 223 3. Jews in Postwar Lodz 226 4. Friends, Acquaintances, Strangers 231 5. Surviving 233 6. The Zionists 236 7. The Others 239 ARCHIVES LIST 242 BIBLIOGRAPHY 243 INDEX 253 ix P r e face PREFACE and ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The idea of writing about postwar Lodz had already germinated while I was working on my Brzezany book. 1 The basic premise of both projects was to place my personal memories within a wider historical context. I lived in Brzezany as a child for the few prewar years and then during the war. We moved to Lodz in the summer of 1945, and left for Israel in early 1950. Thus my adolescence, in a large industrial city in central Poland, was completely unlike my childhood years in a picturesque and pastoral small town in the eastern Polish borderlands. Whereas as a child in Brzezany I had to face the tragedies of the War and the Holocaust, my Lodz years coincided with a significant and meaningful period in the history of the Jews in Poland immediately after the war. For decades, the lives and fates of the survivors in the immediate postwar years were insufficiently researched and discussed. They were overshadowed by the tremendous events of the War and the Holocaust on the one hand and by the emergence of Israel on the other. Zionistoriented historiography has tended to accept a rather simplified, almost predestined, formula of “Holocaust and Redemption.” The few inbetween years got lost somehow. The prevailing and stereotyped image of Holocaust survivors was primarily one of passive and helpless remnants of vibrant Jewish communities. It is only since the 1990s that this perception has begun to be challenged. My study of Jews and Jewish life in postwar Lodz is, in a way, part of this novel approach. Lodz, in the years 1945-1950, was the major urban center of Jewish population in Poland. A basic feature of Jewish life in postwar Lodz, as it was throughout postwar Poland, was its fluid and transitory nature. Yet, despite the ever-shifting scene, there was a strong sense of vitality and purpose. Although some research on postwar Jewish life in Poland has been emerging recently, studies of specific locations are rather scarce. As for research of the history of Jews in Lodz, the few studies that have been published focus on prewar Lodz and on the Lodz Ghetto. Very little has been written on Jews and Jewish life in postwar Lodz. 1 Together and Apart in Brzezany: Poles, Jews, and Ukrainians, 1919-1945 (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 2002). x P r e fac e In some ways, my mental and emotional journey to postwar Lodz has been similar to my return to prewar Brzezany. Both were happy periods in my life. Unlike those who view the early postwar years as a rather sad postscript to the war’s tragedy and trauma, I’ve always recalled my postwar Lodz years fondly. One reason for this, perhaps, is the fact that my Lodz years were preceded by the Holocaust and followed by emigration and adjustment to a new life in Israel. My physical return to Eastern Europe has been facilitated by the fall of Communism. I’ve made repeated trips to Warsaw and Lodz. While the memories of Jewish Warsaw were unearthed and discussed there increasingly in the course of the 1990s, a similar process has begun in Lodz only in the last few years. As I did in Together and Apart, I decided to base my Lodz book both on conventional sources and on interviews with people who lived in the city in the postwar years. I sought to check, verify and confront my adolescent postwar Lodz memories with the memories of others who lived there at the same time. I was curious to find out whether my Lodz impressions, mostly positive and pleasant, were correct. The very act of meeting with and listening to people who shared my Lodz experience was moving and gratifying. Historians are reluctant to make use of life stories, because it often brings up the familiar charge of lack of objectivity. Having gone through enough formal documents, I’ve become increasingly convinced that they too do not always tell us the objective “truth.” I am convinced now even more than in the past that individual voices are highly significant in the writing of history, no less than the more conventional and traditional sources. Since most of my adolescent life in postwar Lodz took place in a Jewish-Zionist milieu and since most of the Jewish writings deal with that milieu, I was determined to include others in my study too: the Communists and the assimilationists. Unlike the Brzezany book, which discusses the Polish-Jewish-Ukrainian triangle, the Lodz book centers primarily on Jews. I also faced a structural dilemma. Whereas the Brzezany book covers a quarter of a century, the Lodz book deals with less than five years. It made sense to present my Brzezany story chronologically. The Lodz story centers mostly upon the major aspects of Jewish life during the postwar years. Initially, I intended to write only about the early postwar years in Lodz, but as my research and interviews progressed, I came to realize that Jewish life in postwar Lodz could not be comprehended unless the wartime background of those who survived the war and the Holocaust, was also presented. 13 My Lodz Memories a crush on the handsome madrich. “There were rumors that Moshe was in love with the beautiful and talented Dziunia, one of the female counselors, who used to recite Pushkin.” Moshe recognized Zipora on a Jerusalem street a few years later, in the early fifties. He was glad to meet her. Since she herself was already at that time a madricha in the Hashomer Hatzair movement in Israel, Moshe offered his experience and advice. “He did not look well, and lived in a rundown place in a Jerusalem convent. I wasn’t 12 too eager to meet with him again.” And then there was, of course, the sad and tragic story of Moshe’s end in Israel. Mishka Lewin told me that he was constantly worried about Moshe. “He could never focus on one particular matter. He would start something, leave it and start something else. His mental and emotional problems erupted a few years after he came to Israel. He lived in various places, but he always came for visits. It was increasingly obvious that he suffered from some sort of paranoia. He used to tell me that he was constantly surrounded by ‘agents,’ and talked about it for hours.” Mishka Lewin was told, apparently by Moshe’s younger brother, that while traveling one day in a public taxi, a sherut, Moshe decided that the people sitting nearby must be “agents,” whom he dreaded. He forced the door and jumped. During our long-distance overseas conversation, Lewin kept 13 repeating, “We lost him, it was our loss.” I became obsessed with the need to establish how Moshe actually died. His death somehow fascinated me. It was like solving a sad, but still interesting and meaningful, puzzle. The most exhaustive and reliable source of information was Moshe’s brother-in-law Zeev, or “Vovke” as his Vilna friends used to call him. I met with him in a senior citizens’ home on the outskirts of Tel-Aviv. Vovke, in spite of his age, was vigorous and highly excitable. His memory wasn’t bad at all. “I recall Moshe as a boy of 12 or 13, in prewar Vilna. The Shmutter siblings, Rachel, Moshe, and their younger brother Binyamin, were excellent athletes. They were always referred to as ‘the Shmutters.’” Vovke met them again in wartime Russia, in Tashkent. He had just completed his service in the Red Army, and fell in love with Rachel, Moshe’s beautiful older sister. She spotted him at a victory ball, on May 9, 1945. She was then 21 and he was 23. “Moshe was 18 or 19 at the time, somewhat naive in his enthusiastic, vociferous support for Zionism. I advised him to shut up and to leave 14 Russia as soon as possible.” Moshe arrived in Lodz in early 1946, and immediately became active in the local branch of Hashomer Hatzair. Vovke and Rachel arrived in Lodz in May, and Moshe arranged for them to stay at a Hashomer Hatzair collective on Poludniowa. Then they left for Germany, where 14 C ha p t e r O n e Vovke worked for the UNRRA. Within two or three years they arrived in Israel. Vovke recalled that he was very eager at the time to leave Poland. As early as his trip from Russia to Lodz he had overheard a Polish woman at the Krakow rail station complain “Stalin takes our coal and sends us Jews.” When I asked Vovke whether Moshe ever told him about his experience as a youth counselor, he recalled some of Moshe’s impressions. “He told me of children shattered by the war, and of one girl in particular who refused to join their outings to a nearby forest. ‘I am scared of forests,’ she kept repeating. It turned out that her family had been murdered in a forest. Moshe tried to restore a somewhat normal way of life to those youngsters. He was an excellent educator and was very successful in his work. He had a good sense of humor, with children as well as with adults.” According to Vovke, Moshe arrived in Israel sometime in 1949, and served for nearly two years in the Israeli army. Then he started studying Law at the Hebrew University, in Jerusalem. It must have been 1951 or 1952. At the same time he worked in a court, as translator: his knowledge of Yiddish, Russian and Polish seems to have come in handy. However, as in other endeavors, he did not persist in his studies for long. For some time he was involved in archeological digs at Massada and became increasingly involved in leftist politics. His Zionist-Marxist ideology was supplanted by Communism. It is not clear whether he became a card-carrying member of the Israeli Communist Party, but, according to Vovke, he was constantly participating in Communist meetings and demonstrations. He also wrote for the Israeli Communist daily Kol Haam, under the pen name “Moshe Oshres.” It was during that time that Moshe began to associate with the Russian-born, pro-Communist Israeli poet Alexander Pen. According to Vovke “they used to drink together and discuss politics and literature. Although Moshe knew rather well the realities of life in Soviet Russia, he was ready to overlook everything, while becoming increasingly critical of Israel.” It is quite possible that Moshe had an idealized image of the new Zionist state and society. While living in a student dormitory Moshe began to realize that his room was being searched when he was out. At one point, a young woman he had come to know confessed that she was sent to follow him and inform on him. Moshe was, apparently, hemmed-in by his own radical ideology and politics, by an oversuspicious and anti-Communist Israeli security establishment that possibly monitored him, and by his growing mental and emotional idiosyncrasies. “I sensed already then, that Moshe was ill. I didn’t know whether this was schizophrenia,” Vovke confided. “It was impossible to convince him to seek professional help. He was once 37 Postwar Lodz stationed nearby of rape and murder. These rumors fed on the fact that the murderer was not apprehended. Anti-Soviet moods intensified among local students. Lodz Security authorities pressured for an immediate and “quiet” funeral. However, a crowd of close to 2,000 students maintained a vigil around the casket, and eventually, a funeral procession of about 6,000 students from various academic institutions marched through the city’s main thoroughfares, including Piotrkowska, in the morning hours of December 19. Leading the funeral procession were the University Rector, Professor Tadeusz Kotarbinski, and the Academic Priest, Father Rostworowski. Student delegations from other cities attended as well. Some of the marchers clashed with Security personnel and with the militia. On the way back from the cemetery a group of students gathered in front of Glos Robotniczy — The Workers’ Voice — the PPR newspaper building. Windows were smashed and the police started shooting in the air. Dozens of students were arrested that evening in the University dormitories. During the next few days Lodz newspapers ran a campaign aimed at “brawlers” and “neofascist” students. Workers’ meetings in various textile plants condemned “reactionary elements among the academic youth.” In spite of the official criticism against students, at least some public support for them was apparent. Thus, tram drivers all over the city refused to charge students for some time. Another clash between students and the militia occurred in May of 1946, in connection with the 3rd of May, Constitution Day. Following a church ceremony, a group of students marched along Piotrkowska Street shouting “Long live Mikolajczyk” and “Down with the PPR.” Militiamen shot at the marchers. One student was killed and a few were wounded. Workers were 17 utilized once more to condemn the protesters. A major source of unrest in Lodz in the early postwar years was the tendency for massive workers’ strikes, mainly in the textile industry. Lodz had its working-class traditions based on syndicalism, skill, nationalism and gender. The war had introduced women into the workforce to a considerable extent. The first postwar strikes erupted as early as May of 1945. In July there were twenty-three strikes. The main issues had to do with food supply, high prices and low wages. The private market that still existed in food and clothing gave rise to widespread notions of injustice among workers. A Ministry of Information and Propaganda report stated that “The Lodz worker cannot accept the fact that his children can only gaze at cake from afar, and he is not satisfied that one like himself who works hard earns so 18 little, while some parasite makes big money.” August and September of 1945 witnessed a wave of strikes in Lodz and vicinity. As part of a neargeneral strike between the 7 th and 25 th of May, 1946, some 25,000 workers stopped production in thirty factories. Tram workers struck several times 38 C h a p t e r Two throughout 1946. The most massive and final wave of strikes began at the Poznanski Plant, in September 1947, and soon spread to other factories. Within days 26,000 workers were on strike. The winter of 1947/48 marked the final repression of large-scale labor unrest. 19 Although the Red Army was initially greeted as a liberator from Nazi occupation, attitudes toward the Soviet Union and the Soviet-supported PPR were quite negative. One of the most popular political parties in postwar Lodz was the PSL — the Polish Peasant Party, headed by Mikolajczyk. There were 50,000 PSL members in the Lodz district in late 1945. Rumors played a significant role in the shaping and spreading of anti-Soviet attitudes. One of the most repeated rumors, especially on the eve of the January 1947 elections, was that additional Red Army units were about to be stationed in Poland. Grafitti stating “Stalinie, tys maczal rece w Katynie” (Stalin, you bloodied your hands in Katyn) appeared in Lodz in May 1948. The public mood of postwar Lodz was affected by the massive influx of people from all over Poland. Lodz, a city hardly touched by the wartime devastation, but which had lost most of its German and Jewish population, became a desirable site for resettlement. Communist Party functionaries, writers, artists, students and academics now preferred Lodz to other cities. This, in turn, affected the locals and the returning prewar inhabitants. National and ethnic hostility was directed mainly towards Germans and Jews. Public trials of former Nazi bureaucrats stirred strong anti-German emotions. The influx of Holocaust survivors and Polish Jews returning from the Soviet Union, as well as widespread beliefs that the new Communist structures were permeated with Jews, resulted in an increase of antiSemitism. One report cited a rumor that “50,000 Jews have been brought to Lodz and they are favored in the aprowizacja (food supply).” In Radomsko, a city south of Lodz, a rumor spread in the summer of 1946 that 10,000 Jews would be settled there, and local inhabitants would be banished from their apartments. Jews became the scapegoat of Polish economic and political grievances. They were accused of shirking factory work and preferring white-collar jobs. One official report stated: “The worker wants to see the Jew around him, but as a worker, not as a director... The worker is outraged that all higher positions are taken by Jews who steal and then escape with the money abroad.” Three thousand workers were on strike for two days in mid-1945 in the Biederman textile plant against the appointment of a Jewish director. Women workers were among the most outspoken critics at workers’ meetings. They complained that since Jews had special privileges in the supply and distribution of food, Polish children had to go without milk. Anti-Jewish accusations claimed that a high percentage of the top ranks of 71 Jews in Postwar Lodz burn bodies of gassed Jews. When the Red Army advanced in the direction of Chelmno and Lodz, in January 1945, Krampf ordered the shooting of these youngsters. Srebnik, though severely wounded, managed to survive. Krampf also planned to kill the last of the young ghetto Jews, who were supposed to clean the area after the final deportations to Auschwitz. He was sentenced to death. 41 The trial of Hans Biebow, “the butcher of the Lodz Ghetto,” was held in late April 1947. Biebow, a middle-class German merchant born in Bremen who had joined the Nazi Party, was nominated to be head of the Lodz Ghetto administration. He was not only responsible for implementing Nazi policies in respect to the ghetto Jews, but was personally involved in torture, rape and killings. He often used his official position to seize Jewish property and valuables. Biebow traveled from Lodz to Dresden in connection with his business activities, in mid-January 1945, a few days before the arrival of the Red Army. He was identified and picked up by the British, on a request of the Polish legal authorities. It was the trial of Krampf that led to the identification of Biebow in Germany. He was extradited to Poland in May 1946 and brought to the Sterling Street Prison in Lodz at the end of June. Biebow’s trial started in the morning of April 23, 1947, in the Lodz District Court on Dabrowski Square. It provoked wide public interest,and was reported on daily by the general Polish press, as well as by local Lodz newspapers. Numerous Jewish witnesses gave evidence in the trial. Historian Arthur Eisenbach quoted from the extensive documentation collected by the Jewish Historical Commission. Mirski, head of the Lodz Jewish Committee and Chief Editor of Dos Naje Lebn, was one of the three aldermen appointed by the court. Dos Naje Lebn reported that “a huge Jewish crowd assembled on Wednesday, April 30, inside the courtroom and in front of the loudspeakers installed in the street, to hear the verdict.” The final court session was covered by Polish and foreign media. Biebow was found guilty and sentenced to death. His appeal to President Bierut was rejected. He 42 was hanged at dawn, on June 23. One of the most remarkable achievements of postwar Jewish culture in Poland was the Jewish Theater of Lodz. Most of its actors and staff were returnees from the Soviet Union, who had begun to arrive in Lodz in the spring of 1946. The Theater’s opening was officially announced in August. Its first director was Moshe Lipman, who had just returned from Russia with his wife, the actress Natalia Lipman. Among the other artists were Aizik Rotman, Nadia Kareni, Eni Liton and Ketty Efron. They were joined by a few graduates of Mikhoels’ Yiddish State Theater Studio in Moscow. Between August and December 1946 the Theater performed 72 C ha p t e r Th r e e eight plays. In January 1947, it premiered with Anski’s classical Yiddish play, “The Dibbuk.” Altogether eleven productions were staged in the course of the year. They included mainly classical and popular Yiddish plays by such writers and playwrights as Shalom Aleichem, Goldfaden and Gordin. Ticket statistics indicate how popular the Lodz Jewish Theater was. More than 28,000 tickets were sold throughout 1947. In 1948 the Lodz Jewish Theater went on tour in Poland and abroad. 43 By mid-1948, the renowned Yiddish actress Ida Kaminska, daughter of Ester-Rokhl Kaminska, “the mother of Yiddish theater,” had become the art director of the Lodz Jewish Theater. She was assisted in administrative and organizational matters by her husband, the actor Marian Melman. Kaminska was not only an excellent actress, but also a resourceful and energetic director. With the help of Jack Greenbaum of New York and the assistance of the CCPJ, Kaminska renovated the small and modest hall on 2 Jaracza Street. One of the first plays performed in the renovated theater was Kaminska’s adaptation of Max Bauman’s Glueckel Hameln Demands Justice, with Kaminska in the leading role. The gala premiere in November 1948 was attended by the Polish Minister of Culture, the Mayor of Lodz and CCPJ representatives. Leon Schiller, Poland’s leading theater director, sent a congratulatory telegram. He had always been an enthusiastic supporter of the Jewish theater in Poland. Kaminska made continuous efforts to get official approval and financial support for the construction of a large modern Jewish theater building in Lodz. 44 The most popular Yiddish actors in postwar Poland, besides Ida Kaminska, were the comedians Shimon Dzigan and Israel Schumacher. Their paths crossed for the first time in Brodersohn’s theater studio in prewar Lodz. Dzigan was raised in the poor Baluty neighborhood. Schumacher was from a middle class family, and he graduated from one of the best high schools in town. They started performing together in the Ararat Revue Theater, which specialized in Jewish folklore, and soon became popular with Jewish audiences. Dzigan and Schumacher were among the throngs of refugees who escaped eastward in the fall of 1939 and eventually found themselves in remote regions of the Soviet Union. They tried to join General Anders’ Polish Army, but were accused of desertion and sent to Soviet labor camps. They were released only in August 1946, and shortly thereafter were rearrested. Dzigan and Schumacher managed finally to leave the Soviet Union in the summer of 1947, reaching Warsaw first and settling later in Lodz. Dzigan and Schumacher’s performances in postwar Lodz were a tremendous success. The crowd at their first program, Abi men zet zikh (We Meet Again) was huge. The reunion between the Yiddish speaking 93 Friends, Acquaintances, Strangers remembered throughout the years was that of Fayvl. Only recently I learned that his last name was Podemski. In Israel he had Hebraized it to Podeh. I came across his published memoirs, but I had never met him in person since the Lodz days. I traveled to Herzlia Pituach, an affluent seaside town near Tel-Aviv, to interview him. His wife had passed away a few years earlier, and he was living by himself in a well-kept house by the seashore. He didn’t recall me at all from postwar Lodz, which was to be expected: I was then in my early teens, while Fayvl, a native of Lodz and a survivor of the Lodz Ghetto, was in his early twenties. Prior to the war the Podemskis lived in a Jewish neighborhood in Lodz, on 20 Poludniowa Street. Fayvl’s father was co-owner of two bakeries. “I can smell even now the aroma of those rolls and bagels.” His father died of jaundice in 1933. Fayvl was a boy of nine at that time. The mother, who became the breadwinner of the family, used to bake and sell cakes. “Business was good, especially in summertime, in Kolumna, near Lodz. We kids had the time of our lives.” Fayvl had his first encounter with Hashomer Hatzair at age twelve, when his older brother took him to the local Hashomer Hatzair branch, the ken. From then on Hashomer Hatzair was Fayvl’s second home. He fondly recalled the Hashomer Hatzair summer camps, especially the last one, in Zakopane, at the foot of the Carpathian Mountains. All this came to a halt in September 1939. In his memoirs, Fayvl recorded the daily life of the Lodz Ghetto. Despite or perhaps because of the new, oppressive existence in the closed Jewish quarter, Hashomer Hatzair activities became even more meaningful and significant than in the prewar years. The Hashomer Hatzair now became Fayvl’s first home. Some of the Jewish youth in the Lodz Ghetto, among them young Fayvl, were given the opportunity to work and spend time in Marysin, a kind of agricultural colony that was adjacent to the ghetto. Various prewar Jewish youth movements resumed their activities in Marysin. The purpose was to give the teenagers a temporary break from the crowded conditions and dreariness of everyday life in the ghetto. Hunger, roundups and deportations during the next three years stand out in Fayvl’s ghetto memories. Despite the harsh conditions, suffering and loss, the youth movement activities continued. There was a strong will for survival. The final deportations occurred in the late summer of 1944. These were the last days of the ghetto. It then turned into a desolated and eerie place. Fayvl was part of the last group of Lodz Jews left in the ghetto — in a labor camp, located at 16 Jakuba Street. It consisted of young Jewish males who were supposed to clean up the area after the last deportation. Fayvl’s labor unit was kept together until early January 1945. 10 Although Matityahu Mintz is twelve years my senior, we both studied 94 C ha p t e r Fo u r history at the Hebrew University at the same time. I was vaguely aware of his past in Hashomer Hatzair. As it turned out, he spent some time at Hashomer Hatzair in postwar Lodz too. We even might have been there at the same time. When I went to interview him he had already retired from Tel-Aviv University. This was a hot summer day, and Matityahu opened the door without his shirt on. We chatted like old friends. I was fascinated by the fact that Matityahu knew Mordechai Anielewicz, the legendary leader of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. Professor Mintz was born in Lublin in 1923 in a traditional, Zionistoriented family. He never went to a heder and excelled in the local Hebrew school. As a young boy he knew Yiddish, Hebrew and Polish. Mintz’s father was a coal contractor. During the economic crisis of the early 1930s he lost his work, and the family moved to Warsaw. Matityahu continued his studies at an elementary Hebrew school, and then in a Jewish high school. It was there that he met Anielewicz, three years his senior. Both Anielewicz and Mintz were close to the right-wing Zionist nationalist Betar youth movement. When they met, Anielewicz had already switched from Betar to Hashomer Hatzair. He convinced young Mintz to join him. Matityahu and some other of his Hashomer Hatzair friends left German-occupied Warsaw in mid-October 1939. After weeks of wandering along Poland’s eastern borders he reached Vilna, where he remained until January 1941. Mintz was one of the lucky few to be able to leave the Soviet Union and reach Palestine. His unusual trajectory included Odessa and Moscow. He arrived in Palestine in March 1941. His first home there, where he would stay for the next fourteen years, was Gan-Shmuel, a rather intellectual, left-wing kibbutz of Hashomer Hatzair. In time Mintz became active in the leadership of the youth movement. When Hashomer Hatzair started sending emissaries to postwar Europe, the 25 year-old Mintz, with his knowledge of Polish and his experience with youth, was a natural candidate. He arrived in Poland in the summer of 1948. 11 After the filming of Undzere Kinder in Lodz in 1948, and an attempt to film an additional sequence in Tel-Aviv in 1950 or 1951, many years passed before I again saw Natan Gross. It was only in the spring of 1981 that we met, at the Tel-Aviv Cinemateque. Natan had arranged for a public showing of the film and for a get-together of the “children,” now people in their fifties. For Natan they always remained children. It was shortly thereafter that he gave me a video copy of Undzere Kinder. A few years later we happened to get involved in yet another “project.” I was conducting research on Metropolitan Andrei Sheptytski, head of the Ukrainian Uniate Church in Galicia, who had saved numerous 104 C ha p t e r Fo u r old and his father remarried. “Everything changed. I went to live with my grandma, and lived there until the war.” His father and his stepmother moved to Warsaw. Kuba stayed in Lodz. Kuba recalled that when Lodz had been occupied, most local Germans behaved nastily toward Jews. Kuba with his grandmother were forced into the Ghetto. In the ghetto he joined Tsukunft, the Bundist youth movement. When his grandmother died Kuba was left alone and was eventually deported. He was interned in several concentration camps. When the war ended, Kuba was seriously ill, and stayed for two months in a hospital in Czechoslovakia. “It was completely natural for me to return to Poland.” He arrived in Lodz in midsummer 1945. 22 Reading a weekend edition of Haaretz, I spotted a photo of a handsome young man wearing a World War II pilot’s cap. The article told the story of Kazimierz Rutenberg, an ex-pilot in the Polish Air Force. I met him in his modest, neat house in Ramat-Aviv. Rutenberg, although born in Krakow, as a young boy had lived in Sosnowiec, in south-western Poland. His family had roots in Lodz. Since his grandparents lived in Lodz, young Kazik used to travel there for visits. He tried to keep kosher at his grandparents’, but aside from that he was hardly religious, and recalled going to the synagogue only when the students from his Polish high school were attending their respective places of worship, on official Polish holidays. He did not go to the synagogue even on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. Kazik had both Polish and Jewish friends, some of them from mixed families. When war started, Kazik and his mother were visiting friends of the family in Rovno, in northeastern Poland. Following the occupation of Eastern Poland by the Soviets, they were separated from his father, who stayed in Sosnowiec and was eventually gassed in Auschwitz. Kazik and his mother were deported in the summer of 1940 to a labor camp near Tomsk, in Siberia. “We met Poles, Jews, Russians and Ukrainians there. Thousands died, mostly of typhoid.” Following the Soviet-Polish agreement, after Germany’s invasion of Russia, Rutenberg tried to join General Anders’s Army, but was turned down. Subsequently, in 1943, he was mobilized into General Berling’s Army. After serving in an antitank infantry unit, he was accepted at a pilot’s school, becoming a fighter pilot at age twenty. After demobilization he joined his mother, who had 23 survived the war in Russia and settled in Lodz. Though we had lived in postwar Lodz and in the Helenowek Children’s Home at the same time, my friendship with Henryk Grynberg dates only from the 1990s. I didn’t recall him from Helenowek, but he remembered me, as “that little guy with the Chinese, slanted eyes.” I knew 105 Friends, Acquaintances, Strangers that in the 1960s he had been an actor with the State Jewish Theater in Warsaw, and that he had defected when the company was on tour in the US. During one of my first visits to Poland, in the early 1990s, I went to Krakow with my Polish friends, Ludwik and Jola Czaja. They took me to Kazimierz, the historical Jewish quarter. I was browsing in a local Judaica store and came across a small, slim book with a strange title: Dziedzictwo (Inheritance). The author’s name was Henryk Grynberg. I became totally enthralled, and devoured it on the spot. I’m convinced that this is one of the most powerful texts ever written on the Holocaust. Dziedzictwo tells the story of Henryk’s return after half a century to the area where his family hid out during the war, and where his father was murdered by a Polish neighbor. He had come on a fact-finding mission, and after meeting and talking for many hours with a dozen old local peasants, Grynberg finally managed to establish the identity of the murderer and the site of the burial. A lengthy and dramatic exhumation followed. The diggers recovered some bones, a skull and an old, prewar milk bottle, the kind that Henryk’s father, a milkman, always carried with him. It turned out that Jola was familiar with the book and even reviewed it. She also told me that she knew Henryk and had met him several times. I met him myself a few years later in Washington, DC, where he had been working and living after leaving Poland. I invited him to come and meet my Holocaust class at Ben-Gurion University. We watched a film documenting Henryk’s quest for his father’s end and the exhumation of his remains. With Henryk right there in the classroom, this was a difficult and moving experience for all of us. Next day I invited him to my house for a cup of coffee. We spoke about the war, the Holocaust and postwar Lodz. Henryk was born in Warsaw in 1936, but lived with his parents in the village of Radoszyna, about 60 kilometers East of the capital. They were the only Jewish family there. His maternal grandparents lived in nearby Dobre, a much larger settlement. His paternal grandparents, and his mother’s three sisters, also lived nearby. In fact, all of Henryk’s family were small-town and village Jews. They knew everybody and everybody knew them. Henryk’s father, Abram Grynberg, owned cows and calves and sold milk and milk products. The tragic history of Henryk’s extensive family under German occupation is discussed in his books. Grynberg avoids generalizations and superlatives, dealing mainly with facts and words. Still, his sparing and seemingly pedestrian language conveys in an utterly concise form the drama, terror, and tragedy of those times. Only a few of the Polish neighbors around Radoszyna and Dobre were ready to help. Most were either indifferent or hostile. Henryk, his 107 Friends, Acquaintances, Strangers 20. The Pomerantz family from Lodz with their Uzbek neighbors. Courtesy of Shlomo Pomerantz. 21. Red Army officers and Polish trainees at the Leningrad Pushkin Military Armored Corps Academy near Rybinsk, 1944. Second row from bottom, first on the left: Binyamin Majerczak. Courtesy of Binyamin Majerczak. 108 C ha p t e r Fo u r 22. Kazik Rutenberg, fighter pilot in General Berling’s Army, January 1944. Courtesy of Kazimierz Rutenberg. 109 Surviving 5 SURVIVING Jewish life in postwar Lodz can be properly understood only when the wartime experiences of those who settled there are examined. Jews who settled in Lodz after its liberation were either Holocaust survivors or returnees from the Soviet Union. Both populations were severely affected by extreme upheavals in their lives. They suffered from dislocation, harsh living conditions, loss and trauma. Still, there was a basic difference. In the vast expanses of wartime Russia, Polish-Jewish refugees and deportees shared the wartime fate of the general Soviet population. Jews in Nazi-occupied Poland were singled out for degradation, isolation and annihilation. Poland, the historic and demographic center of European Jewry, became the epicenter of the Holocaust. Most victims, both Polish Jews and Jews deported to Poland from other parts of Europe, perished on Polish soil. Ghettoization and annihilation in concentration and death camps were conducted mainly in this part of the continent. Although Nazi antiJewish policies were initiated immediately after the invasion of Poland, in early September of 1939, the process of annihilation was gradual, lasting until the spring of 1945. The first two years of German rule in Poland were marked by economic exploitation, acts of terror and ghettoization. The mass murder of Jews began only in the fall of 1941, following the German invasion of the Soviet Union. Polish Jews shared the fate of the general Polish population in the first weeks of the war. Around 100,000 Jews were mobilized into the Polish Army. Thousands participated in the digging of trenches and in the building of barricades. Both Poles and Jews were killed by the fierce German bombardments of Warsaw and the roads leading eastward. Poland had been divided by Hitler and Stalin in mid-September of 1939. Germanoccupied Poland included an area incorporated into the German Reich and the Generalgouvernement. The two areas, situated in western and central Poland, were inhabited by more than two million Jews. Between 150,000 and 250,000 Polish Jews fled the Germans in the first months of the war, and ended up in the Soviet-annexed territories of eastern Poland. 1 The “Heidrich Letter,” issued on September 21, 1939, highlighted the 110 C ha p t e r Fi v e initial stage of German anti-Jewish policies. Jews were to be expelled from north-western Poland into the Generalgouvernement, and concentrated in large cities. Jewish councils were to be formed, in order to facilitate the implementation of German instructions. Then, in late November, Jews were ordered to wear arm-bands with a Star of David. This was a first step towards their identification and isolation from the surrounding nonJewish population. Confiscation of property, roundups for harsh manual labor, and physical assaults on the streets followed. It is estimated that by the end of 1939, 250,000 Jews had already died as a result of shootings, starvation and disease. 2 Ghettoization began as early as October 1939. The Lodz Ghetto was sealed off in May 1940, the Warsaw Ghetto in November of that year, and the Krakow Ghetto in March 1941. Numerous ghettos were formed throughout eastern Poland, following Hitler’s invasion of the Soviet Union. All in all, some 650 ghettos existed in Polish lands at various times. Relocation from small ghettos and the concentration of Jews in larger ghettos, mostly close to railroad stations, occurred throughout 1942. The purpose was to segregate and concentrate the Jewish population so as to enable efficient deportation to the killing sites. The inhabitants of the ghettos suffered from overcrowding, hunger and epidemics. The most frequent diseases were typhoid and tuberculosis. The rate of death from disease was high. Many starved to death. The ghettos also served as a “showplace” of Jewish misery for Nazi propaganda purposes. Still, there was a strong will to live and to survive. Self-help and various cultural activities, especially in the large ghettos, were quite prevalent. Small study groups and minyanim for prayer met from time to time. Covert political activities took place whenever possible. 3 Although the extreme conditions of life in the ghettos led to numerous deaths, most of the Jewish population was annihilated in the camps. There emerged, in time, a convergence of Jewish and German interests, which postponed for a while the annihilation process. German industrialists and the German army, the Wehrmacht, were interested in utilizing the extremely cheap Jewish labor. Some of the Jewish councils’ chairmen believed that working for the Germans was a means for survival. 4 The two most populated ghettos in Poland were those of Warsaw and Lodz. The Jews of Warsaw formed one third of the capital’s population on the eve of the war. The city had also been flooded by Jewish refugees following the incorporation of western Poland into the German Reich. Close to 400,000 Jews were squeezed into the Warsaw Ghetto, which formed less than 3% of the total city area. Poverty, starvation and diseases affected the ghetto from its very start. Over 43,000 people starved to death 117 Surviving were deposited in unsettled areas and told to build their own dwellings. Relations between Poles and Jews in the Soviet exile varied. There were cases of mutual assistance and other cases of anti-Semitism. Although the conditions of daily existence were harsh everywhere, those in prisons and labor camps had a much lesser chance of survival than the rest. People died from starvation, cold, exhaustion and epidemics. The legal status of the deportees, as well as possibilities for travel and relocation inside Russia, changed drastically in August 1941, in the wake of Hitler’s invasion of the USSR, and the Soviet-Polish Agreement. Polish citizens were now officially permitted to leave prisons, camps, and assigned settlements. A mass migration of Polish citizens occurred in the second half of 1941. It was part of a much wider relocation of indigenous Soviet war refugees and evacuees, fleeing eastward from the front. Millions were on the move. The main thrust of the Polish migration was in the direction of the Central Asian Soviet republics. The southern climate was more lenient, and the mobilization centers for the Polish Army, formed in the USSR following the Soviet-Polish Agreement, were located in that area. This second relocation took place under extremely harsh wartime conditions. It resulted in even more deaths than the initial deportation from the annexed territories. 21 Life in the Soviet South abounded in hardships specific to the region. The hot climate and primitive sanitary conditions caused the spread of contagious diseases. The region was also crowded with Soviet refugees from the German-occupied regions of western Russia. Lack of food and hunger were part of everyday life. Medicines were in short supply. Poles and Polish Jews shared the harsh fate of the overall Soviet population. Those who had managed to bring with them some personal belongings sold them on the black market in order to buy food. Others traded illegally and were often imprisoned for doing so. The Polish Embassy established a network of welfare assistance. Nurseries, schools and orphanages were organized on a wide scale. This meant shelter, a few meals a day and some teaching. The Jewish-Polish refugees received some assistance from Jewish philanthropic organizations abroad, such as the JDC. The most important aid was in the form of food, clothing and medicine. Some parcels arrived from relatives in Palestine. At the end of 1944, as many as 40,000 Jewish families were receiving aid from the JDC. The JDC relief project continued until 1946, saving tens of thousands of Polish-Jewish wartime refugees in Russia from death by starvation. There were also some attempts to initiate cultural activities in centers of Jewish refugee population. A traveling Yiddish theatre troup performed across the Central Asian republics. Among the Jewish artists were the popular prewar comedians Shimon Dzigan and Israel Schumacher. They 118 C ha p t e r Fi v e performed even during their incarceration in Soviet prisons and labor camps. In spite of the harsh wartime conditions and massive relocations, some of the young Zionist refugees managed to maintain contacts. More than the refugee population as a whole, they were known for mutual aid, high morale and an ability to function in the ever-changing and challenging Soviet wartime realities. 22 A most significant result of the renewal of Soviet-Polish relations in the summer of 1941 was the establishment of a Polish Army in the USSR. It was headed by General Anders, and was referred to as Anders’ Army. Thousands of Polish citizens from prisons, camps and assigned settlements started arriving at the centers of mobilization, among them numerous Polish Jews. Both the Soviets and the Poles, each for their own reasons, attempted to prevent their mobilization. Traditional Polish anti-Semitic attitudes prevailed among the Polish officer corps. This was the reason for the proportionately low percentage of Jews among Anders’ Army’s evacuees to Persia. Nearly 115,000 Polish citizens, soldiers, and civilians left the USSR in the course of 1942. They were transferred in trains to the port of Krasnovodsk on the Caspian Sea, and from there by ship to the Persian port of Pahlevi. Some 6,000 Jews, about 3,500 soldiers and about 2,500 23 civilians, left with Anders’ Army. The break in relations between the Soviet Union and the Londonbased Polish Government in Exile in the spring of 1943 affected the lives and fates of the Polish-Jewish refugees. All Polish activities in Russia were organized and coordinated now by the ZPP — Zwiazek Patriotow Polskich — the pro-Communist Union of Polish Patriots. A nucleus of the future Communist regime in postwar Poland was being groomed by the Soviets for some time. It was based on prewar Polish Communists, many of Jewish origin. First steps toward the establishment of a pro-Soviet Polish military unit, named after the legendary Polish hero, Tadeusz Kosciuszko, were taken in late April,1943. Colonel Zygmunt Berling, shortly to be promoted to the rank of General, was appointed its commander. By July the number of draftees in the newly formed Kosciuszko Division was close to 16,000. The Division left for the front in early September and in midOctober 1943, fought its first major battle against the Germans at Lenino, near Smolensk. By March 1944 the Polish force, designated now as the Polish Army, fighting in close cooperation with the Red Army, consisted of 40,000 soldiers. When it reached the north-eastern territories of prewar Poland, in the summer of 1944, it numbered more than 100,000 24 There was on the whole no discrimination in the mobilization of Jewish draftees into Berling’s Army: every tenth soldier was Jewish. Nearly 122 C ha p t e r Fi v e with light brown eyes, and didn’t look Jewish at all.” He used to play with a Volksdeutch child. “We used to ask German soldiers for bread, since food was already scarce then, and they would give it to us. These were dark, square loafs.” Heniek’s father notified them that he would be waiting for them in Bialystok. This was apparently in the late fall of 1939. “I remember an overcrowded train station. Lots of people milled around. A German soldier came by, picked me up, and helped my mother with her valise. Inside the train car he slapped a youngster and forced him to give 32 up his seat to my mother.” Bialystok, where the Rubinows lived before the war, was occupied by the Germans on September 15, 1939. Within a week, following the SovietGerman agreement, it was turned over to the Russians, and remained under Soviet rule until June 1941. Rachel’s parents had moved to the most fashionable part of town ten years before she was born. Rala, as she was called then, and her older brother, Vovka, enjoyed an affluent and happy childhood. Rachel, a lifetime later, nostalgically and humorously described what happened to her family. “We lived in the most beautiful and spacious apartment in the city. Word of it reached the ears of an NKVD major, who proceeded to invade our house with his family of nine, leaving us two bedrooms. He also hatched a plot to get rid of us altogether. His solution was Siberia. Taking advantage of the Soviet deportation policy, the major placed us on a priority list. On Saturday, June 21, 1941, at dawn, two NKVD agents dressed in black leather coats burst into our apartment and informed my parents that we were being moved to the ‘eastern provinces.’ We were driven to the railroad station and ordered onto a train with several hundred detainees from all over the city. The train pulled out. Little did we know that ours would be the last deportation train to leave Bialystok before the arrival of the Germans.” 33 Aharon Zalkind was six when his hometown Vilna, with all of Lithuania, became part of the USSR in the summer of 1940. “We lived quite far from the city center, on Antokolska Street. My parents ran a small grocery store, and we lived in a very modest apartment. My father kept two horses, with which he would bring produce from nearby villages.” The Zalkinds had an extended, well-off family in town. They belonged to the poorer branch of the family. In the house they spoke Yiddish, although they knew some Polish and some Lithuanian. “I recall a Sunday. Father didn’t go to the store. All of us were in the house. All of a sudden an airraid alarm rang. The Germans started bombing Vilna. We understood that the German-Russian war had started. My grandma was killed by a bomb, and we stayed for a few days in the countryside.” Aharon recalled the mood in their house, as they expected the Germans. “A kind of sadness 123 Surviving and gloom was in the air, and worries of what would happen once the Germans would come.” He distinctly remembered the first time he saw German soldiers on the street. “I was excited very much by the sight. First appeared the motorcycles, and behind them rolled the tanks. Tankists’ heads protruded from the turrets. It impressed me immensely. I remember people watching those tankists and throwing candies at them. Our Polish neighbors seemed very happy. We were rather sad.” 34 The Eastward Trek Natan Gross, from Krakow, was one of those who joined the eastward moving masses. “On the fourth day of the war I joined that immense wave of refugees. My father, with my brother Jozek, had left already two days earlier, in the direction of Lwow. I decided to stay at home, with my mother, my sister, Klara, and my younger brother, Jerzyk. People kept asking me, ‘ Are you still here, a young man like you? What are you waiting for?’ The psychological pressure mounted by the day. Then, a few young men from our neighborhood, casual acquaintances, suggested that I join them. We left in the morning. It was early fall, and the weather was excellent. Then came the sudden, deadly, air attacks of those blackcrossed Messerschmidts. This was my first encounter with the atrocities of a war. After a week of adventures, we finally reached the townlet of Zuchowice, not far from Lwow. While resting in a nearby forest we were suddenly surrounded by a group of Polish soldiers, pointing their rifles at us. They suspected that we had deserted the army. We were told later that the Russian army had crossed the eastern Polish border, and that, actually, the war had ended. I decided to return home, to Mama. I wasn’t too excited to go back to German-occupied Krakow. Still, I considered it as an obligation to my family.” 35 Binyamin Majerczak, like many other Polish and Jewish young men, left Warsaw in early September 1939, in order to report to the army in eastern Poland. Bombardments dominated his memories of the eastward journey. “German planes incessantly bombed the throngs of refugees. They fired machine guns as well. There was a real massacre on the road. Men, women and children were killed all around me. Human bodies and dead horses lied scattered along the roads. An unbearable stench of burnt flesh was in the air.” In Lukow he finally boarded a train, which passed by Biala Podlaska and stopped some 20 kilometers from Brest, since the rails there were in shambles. “The local Poles were very polite. They were 124 C ha p t e r Fi v e Polish patriots, and knew that we had a common enemy.” Binyamin spent the High Holidays of 1939 in Miedzyrzec hosted by a Jewish family. It was also there that he saw for the first time Red Army soldiers. “There were tanks, cavalry and flagbearers. A Soviet officer addressed a Jewish crowd in Yiddish, and told them that they shouldn’t worry. The Red Army had come to liberate them.” Majerczak then moved to Soviet-occupied Brest. The town was bustling with refugees. 36 A friend of Szulim Rozenberg’s brother came to their house in Warsaw in early September, and told them that many young people were leaving. “So, we too, started talking about going east. The three of us left the house, met two acquaintances on the street, and the five of us started on our way. We walked day and night, and covered close to 500 kilometers in nine days. On some days we walked for twenty-two hours. We wanted to join th the Polish Army, supposedly regrouping in the east. By September 17 , we reached a town by the name of Malewicz, in western Belorussia, between Slonim and Baranowicze, and we met Russian soldiers. This made us extremely happy. There were lots of Yiddish-speaking Jews among them. They told us that they had come to liberate us. From Malewicz we went to Sarny, in Volhynia. I met several friends and acquaintances there. Among them were Aleksander Forbert and Yosl Bergner. Since many people proceeded to Vilna, my brother and I decided to go there too. From Vilna we went to Volkovysk, where I stayed for a while.” 37 Ewa was 19 when the war started. Her friends in Lodz in those days were young people affiliated with Communist and left-Zionist circles. She went with some of them to a three-day summer camp in Radogoszcz, on the outskirts of Lodz, in May 1939. “I didn’t tell my parents where I was going. This was exactly during the Shavuot holidays, and I told them that I was going to visit a friend. These three days became highly significant in my life. Later, when the war started, some of us traveled eastward, and ended up in Soviet Russia.” A few weeks after the occupation of Lodz by the Germans, Ewa and three of her closest communist girlfriends traveled to Soviet-occupied Bialystok. In December, when it became possible to volunteer for work in some regions of the USSR, Ewa and her friends were among the first to register. “The first volunteer groups went to Donbass. It wasn’t easy to get accepted. They preferred Communists, and especially those who had been arrested for Communist activities.” It was around that time that Ewa started dating Israel Frenkel, an ex-member of the Polish Communist Party, whom she vaguely knew in Lodz. “We were in love then, but it was still platonic.” They ended up in a volunteers’ transport that left for Magnitogorsk, in the Urals, in January 1940. “There were close to a thousand people in our transport, among them a few hundred 125 Surviving from Lodz. I traveled with Israel as a couple.” 38 Matityahu Mintz and his young friends traveled east by train and th on foot. They crossed the new German-Soviet border on October 18 , at night, and arrived in Bialystok. They stayed there for a few weeks and were assisted by Hashomer Hatzair. Then they decided to travel south, since it was warmer there, and arrived in Lutsk. “There was an air of adventure. We fantasized. We were quite optimistic in respect to the new Soviet way of life and nourished those unrealistic images.” It was only in Lutsk that they woke up to the harsh reality. “It wasn’t fun anymore. We had no money left, and I traveled to Lwow to get some from my uncle, who had left Warsaw and was living in Lwow.” Mintz was told that there was an active center of Hashomer Hatzair in Vilna, and decided to get there via Grodno. “Hashomer Hatzair people in Grodno arranged for some sleeping facilities. I got a bed without a mattress, and fell asleep immediately. When I woke up at dawn, I saw right near me, on the floor, Mordechai Anielewicz. He apparently knew that I had arrived in Grodno, and wanted to see me. We spoke for a long while, and Anielewicz strongly advised me to travel to Vilna. He also recommended that I read Lenin’s ‘On Revolution.’ We parted, and I boarded a train to Lida, on the Lithuanian border. I finally arrived in the Lithuanian town of Eishyshok. This was December 22, 1939, just before Christmas.” Mintz and his Warsaw friends traveled on foot, and arrived in Vilna in late December. He would stay there until January 1941, when he would leave for Palestine. Mintz was sure that Anielewicz, who regarded him as a promising youngster, recommended to Hashomer Hatzair leaders in Vilna that they should take care of him. This is how Mintz explained to me, sixty years later, his unusual chance to leave German- and Soviet-occupied Poland, and join the Jewish Yishuv in Palestine. 39 Inside Russia The journey from the Soviet-annexed territories to the Soviet interior was recalled by most of my narrators as a traumatic experience. The only exception was Ewa Frenkel, who volunteered to travel to what she had considered “The Soviet Paradise.” Ewa was highly excited about her imminent life in Soviet Russia. “We traveled there in cattle cars, but I still nourished that image of a better world.” 40 While in Soviet-occupied Brest, Binyamin Majerczak worked in a welfare agency supporting Jewish refugees. “One evening, at the end of 127 Surviving transport arrived in an abandoned prisoners’ camp, at the foot of the Altai 42 Mountains. Heniek Napadow and his mother reached a remote place on the new Soviet border. “We ended up in a huge shack with many families. The Russians refused to let us cross to the other side.” He recalled being driven on a wheelcart by a Pole or a Ukrainian, apparently during an earlier portion of their journey,. They were stopped by German soldiers. “They pointed at us with their fingers and kept asking ‘Jude? Jude?’ My mother and another woman who traveled with us just moved their heads, indicating that they weren’t Jewish.” There was yet another image deeply inscribed in the young boy’s mind. “I am not sure at all where this took place, whether it was near the border or not, but I kept it for years in my memory. I remembered a place with a barrel full of lime and some Germans standing nearby. There was this old, bearded Jew. The Germans kept pushing his head into that barrel, down and up, several times. And there was laughter.” Finally they crossed the border and arrived in Bialystok, where Heniek’s father waited for them. 43 Ewa and Israel arrived in Magnitogorsk in January 1940. “They welcomed us with banners, music and speeches. The temperature was minus 40 centigrade. Some of the new arrivals couldn’t take it and returned to Bialystok.” Magnitogorsk — Magnetic Mountain City — was conceived by the Soviets as a utopian experiment, an earthly socialist paradise. It was not only a center of modern Soviet industry, it was perceived in Soviet Russia and in Communist circles abroad as a euphoric symbol of the new, enlightened, socialist society. “I was quite excited. Israel literally wept with joy. He was a man of ideals, full of enthusiasm.” Ewa was appointed as an assistant to a glazier, a stekolshchik. “We worked at a nearly-completed building construction. I carried large plates of glass.” In less than two weeks, on the way to the library, Ewa slipped on the frozen ground and fractured her hand. Israel, who also worked in construction, developed a lung infection, and was sent to a sanatorium. Ewa, unable to work, was sent to study how to work a concrete mixer. The course lasted for a few months and she was already seven months pregnant. So they didn’t send her to work. Ewa and Israel married in Zags, a Soviet Civil Marriage office. “A Jewish wedding didn’t even come to my mind.” When I asked Ewa how she reacted to the difficulties of daily life in Magnitogorsk, her answer was, “I took it with a grain of salt, I was laughing things off.” Israel and Ewa decided to leave Magnitogorsk and join some of Israel’s friends in Chelyabinsk, in Western Siberia. When they arrived at the local railroad station, somebody told them that there was a shortage of workers at a large textile plant in Poltava, South-East of Kiev. Since Israel 128 C ha p t e r Fi v e used to work in a textile factory in Lodz, they decided to try their luck in Poltava. There Ewa gave birth to a baby girl, whom she named Nadia after Nadezhda Krupskaya, Lenin’s wife. This was in February 1941. Israel was drafted into the Red Army soon after the German invasion, in June. Ewa decided then to join two of her girlfriends and travel to NizhniTagil. In two weeks they continued to Orsk, in the Southern Urals. Ewa and little Nadia would stay there throughout the war. Israel, between his release from the Red Army, in February 1942, and his mobilization into the Polish Kosciuszko Division, in the spring of 1943, lived with his young wife and their baby daughter. This was actually the only time that they lived together as a family. Israel Frenkel was killed in the Battle of Lenino, in October 1943, but the sad news reached Ewa only months later. Ewa started working in one of the Orsk restaurants, first washing dishes and later as cashier. When I asked her about recollections from her Orsk years, she casually remarked “There were many terrible things, but it was also fun.” Ewa and Nadia traveled to Poland in the spring of 1946. 44 Majerczak spent fourteen months in the Gulag. He lived and worked in labor camps which were part of the Volgostroi project, in the upper Volga region. In the first camp he felled trees for the construction of a dam and was appointed “brigadir,” in charge of a workers’ team. “Our shack housed twelve brigades, a total of 300 prisoners. They used to count us early in the morning, before leaving for work. The commander warned us, ‘one step out of line, and you’ll be shot without warning.’” Food rations were individual. They depended on the ‘norm,’ i.e. the number of trees cut down by each prisoner. “I became friendly with Ivan, a veteran “brigadir.” He was Russian, a criminal prisoner, a thief, and a wonderful guy. He offered valuable practical advice to me and to my team.” In November 1940 Majerczak was transferred to a larger camp, also part of the Volgostroi. “All commands in that camp were broadcast by a net of loudspeakers, installed all over the place. Each day we woke up to the tune of the popular Soviet song ‘Shiroka strana moya rodnaya’ — ‘Oh My Spacious Native Land.’ Most of the camp population was political prisoners. Among them were Party secretaries, old Bolsheviks, scientists, writers and engineers. The attraction of the new camp was Neli, a young, beautiful, blond Moscow actress. She used to perform and sing Russian folk songs. The men devoured her with their eyes.” Majerczak’s work in this camp consisted of digging for building foundations in the frozen, stone-like soil. “It was already winter, and the extremely low temperature was dangerous and threatening. Urinating and defecating during working hours became a serious problem.” Still, Majerczak was lucky. Since he was an electrical engineer, he started 130 C ha p t e r Fi v e and a crowd gathered around me in a matter of minutes.” This was the beginning of an unexpected short-lived ‘musical career’ at the local Railroad Workers’ Club. Majerczak found soon work as an electrician in a local factory and led a relatively comfortable life. Unfortuntely, he became sick with malaria, and was lucky again. This time it was a nurse by the name of Nina. She took good care of him, and fell in love with “Vinya.” After leaving the hospital Majerczak worked as an electrician in a “myasokombinat” — a meat distribution center. From then on, he was never hungry, and even traded some meat, illegaly, on the black market. “I made good money, and people got to know me. In my few free evenings I used to visit Nina, as well as Wanda, a beauty of Polish origin, who played the guitar and sang Russian romantic songs.” After a while Majerczak met Evgenia Vasil’evna, a Russian army doctor with a rank of captain, and moved in with her. By the summer of 1942, as the front line got closer, he had to leave his comfortable and adventurous love life in Ordzhonikidze, and traveled to Krasnovodsk. On the way there was another romance, with Anna. “Even now, sixty years later, I’m still moved when I remember Anna. We were together for two weeks, first on a refugee train to Baku, then on a Caspian Sea ferry and in the sands of Krasnovodsk.” Majerczak traveled from Krasnovodsk to Samarkand, in Uzbekistan, where he enrolled in a local college to study Agricultural Machinery. “I fondly recall my Russian and Uzbek friends, my teachers and my instructors.” He left the college after a few months, and started working as an electrician in a refrigeration plant. Here too, he became the darling of the female workers, and had an affair with the plant’s beauty, Vera. It seems that Majerczak’s age, good looks, and the wartime scarcity of men worked consistently in his favor. “In April 1943, people started talking about the Polish Kosciuszko Division.” Following a dream about his mother, and recalling his father’s last words, Binyamin decided that his place should be in the ranks of those who fight the Germans. He joined 45 the Kosciuszko Division in early May. Szulim Rozenberg was deported to the Komi Autonomous Republic in the Russian North-East, notorious for its labor camps. Even after his release, in the fall of 1941, he decided to stay in that area. The story he told me sounded much more upbeat then those of other interviewees. “There was a group of Russian engineers there, in charge of felling trees, and I was appointed their boss. This was a wonderful job. We had everything: food, clothing, everything we needed.” After a while Szulim traveled to Gorki, where his brother’s family had settled. He quickly found work in a supply firm. “I felt very good there. The local people ‘adopted’ me, so to speak. I 131 Surviving was sent often on “komandirovki” (working trips) all over, and even got to Moscow a couple of times. I have very pleasant memories of those times.” From Gorki Szulim traveled to Krasnodar, sometime in 1944, where another brother, Menashe, had settled. On the way he visited Moscow and went to the offices of the ZPP — The Union of Polish Patriots. “Walking down the stairs I saw Ida Kaminska. I had seen her in the theater, in Warsaw, many times. Kaminska knew Ksil, one of my brothers. She told me that they had been together for some time, in Kirgizstan, and gave me his address.” Szulim mantained ongoing contacts with his brothers and sisters, dispersed all over Russia, and tried to assist them as much as he could. When I wondered about his resourcefulness and endless energy, he commented, “One had to believe people and trust them. I wasn’t scared of anything. I could easily adjust to new conditions and circumstances. I had excellent relations with everybody. People helped me and I helped them.” Szulim worked in Krasnodar as a supervisor in an NKVD supply base, and stayed there until 1946. 46 Rela Rubinow had only fragmentary memories of her first months in the Altai region. “October greeted us with snowflakes. The mud froze, and quite soon we were covered by a blanket of snow. Towards the end of October 1941, we were told that we were free, and could go anywhere we wished. Soon trucks appeared at the camp, and formed a convoy, which would deliver us to Biysk.” Biysk was located some 300 kilometers south of Novosibirsk. The Rubinows would stay there until their return to Poland, in March 1946. Rachel’s story was both about the exteremely harsh conditions of existence and about basic human kindness. “A miracle happened to us in Biysk. We stepped into the post office, and met an old Russian lady there. Learning the extent of our misery, she invited us to stay with her. Afanasyevna Prokhorova led us to her hut, where we met the other members of her family: her daughters-in-law, Dasha and Sasha, and her two girls, Shura and Valya. The women were married to Prokhorova’s two sons, Grisha and Misha, who were ‘fighting the fascists.’” Rachel’s most prevailing wartime memories were of freezing and hunger. “One time, returning from school in the dark, I was buried under a pile of snow and might have died, if it hadn’t been for a passing Kirgiz tribesman. My strongest memory of wartime is hunger. For the rest of my life I’ll remember that at age six and seven, day and night, I dreamed about eating another slice of bread. The only question on my mind in 1943 was: are we going to die by freezing or starving? At 63 degrees below zero cows and chickens froze; the school, the hospital and the library were closed. We could no longer use the outhouse. The only good news was that 135 Surviving took him to prison in nearby Samarkand. We weren’t sure we would ever see him again. These weren’t normal times. Mother decided that she would travel to Samarkand and see what could be done. And she succeeded in getting him out. I clearly recall his return. I was sitting in the courtyard with some Uzbek kids. My mother stepped into the courtyard with that man. He was thin and emaciated, like a person returning from a camp. He stretched out his hands and called me Khanele, Khanele, come to me. I got very scared, and didn’t want to go near him. He looked so terrible.” Hanka also recalled how her father tried to evade mobilization. “The Russians were searching for men, and my father hid somewhere in the Muslim cemetery. Once they came and asked me about my father. They even gave me a piece of chocolate. I repeated time and again ‘Ia ne znaiu’ — I don’t know.’ Actually, I used to bring him food to that cemetery. Mother thought that it would be easier for a child, that nobody would suspect me. I would disappear suddenly, in the middle of a game, and run to the cemetery.” Hanka and her family left Uzbekistan for Poland in 1946. 50 Ada, too, had traumatic memories from the southward journey and from Uzbekistan. “When we reached Fergana a pot of boiling hot soup burned my hand, and as my father was taking care of me, our only small, yellow valise was stolen. Father decided to stay in Fergana in order to find the thief. Mother and I traveled further, to Katta-Kurgan. Three days later he appeared, with the valise.” Ada recalled the difficult conditions, particularly the lack of food. “From time to time father would return home with a piece of meat which mother cooked for hours. I could hardly swallow it.” The three of them got sick with typhoid. The first one was her father. “He was taken to a hospital, quite far from where we lived. Then mother and I got sick as well, and we were taken to that hospital. Mother told me later that Uzbek women used to bring us food to the hospital. We wouldn’t have survived without their help. In the meantime father was released, and returned home. He was still very weak, and there was nobody to take care of him. Then he fell ill with dysentery, and that finished him off.” When Ada and her mother were released from the hospital they walked around with shaven heads, weak and hungry. Ada’s mother decided to put her in a ZPP children’s home. All that happened, as far as Ada could recall, sometime in 1942. Ada’s life changed following her mother’s remarriage. Her stepfather, Mr. Gibraltar, an engineer from Zgierz near Lodz, was 12 years older than her mother and suffered from multiple sclerosis. He had arrived in Russia with his wife, who shortly thereafter died of pneumonia. Gibraltar met Ada’s mother when Ada was in the children’s home. When the children were evacuated to Teheran, Ada returned to her family. She had to get 136 C ha p t e r Fi v e used to her new father. “He dragged one leg as a result of his illness. Otherwise, he was a very cultured and good-looking man. He had studied engineering in Grenoble before the war and spoke French. Still, at least in the beginning, his presence disturbed me.” The Gibraltars and their friends led quite an active social life. “They used to meet and play bridge. There were flirtations and love affairs, music, dances, and funerals.” Ada attended a Polish school run by the ZPP, and soon became a “star performer.” “School children and teachers would meet from time to time in one of the parks. They called it Krasnaya Ploshchad, Red Square. I would recite Russian poems and sing Russian songs.” Since Gibraltar couldn’t work in Uzbekistan as an engineer, he became a shoemaker. “He made the best shoes in town. All those Russian women whose husbands were away in the army would come to him and order high-heeled shoes. Mother worked at that time as a mailwoman. Still, we went hungry at times. Mother would walk for kilometers to get us that terrible, watersoaked, purple coloured, inedible cornbread. One day, apparently in 1945, a letter arrived, addressed to my [step]father. It turned out that his two sisters had survived the war, and were living in their prewar family house, in Zgierz. Father decided that if we would return to Poland it would be to Zgierz.” The Gibraltars traveled to Poland in the 51 spring of 1946. Rysiek Lubelsky’s family, initially deported to Siberia and released following the Soviet-Polish agreement, settled in Semipalatinsk, in Kazakhstan. Richard’s most vivid memory of that part of his life was the separation of his parents. “This must have happened sometime in 1943. My father had someone else, and my parents were, eventually, divorced. It wasn’t a friendly or amicable divorce. My mother was sick. She was in the hospital when it all happened. When she left the hospital and found out that my father had someone else, she asked him, ‘What am I supposed to do now?’ His answer, according to her, was, ‘The Irtysh river is not too far away.’ My mother was very embittered by father’s behavior, and filled me with hatred towards him and his family.” Richard also recalled that both his father and his paternal grandfather served as doctors in the Polish Army. “They were both Polish officers, and they wore those square top caps, with one corner pointing towards the front. As army doctors they had certain privileges. My father remarried, right there, in Semipalatinsk, and had a child with his new wife. That child, born in 1944, was my half 52 brother; we shared a father.” The most dramatic and traumatic story from the Soviet South was that of Heniek Napadow. His mother delivered him into a Polish children’s home in Bukhara, and the relations between mother and son 165 The Zionists located. This was, apparently, how Poludniowa turned into a Jewish and Zionist street in postwar-Lodz. Fayvl was also instrumental in securing the rooms on 49 Kilinskiego Street for Hashomer Hatzair. He was active in the Hashomer Hatzair Lodz branch from its very start, and served as the first postwar head of the Lodz ken. 26 Baruch Kaplinski arrived in Lodz from the camps less than two months after the liberation. On a street he met a young man from his hometown who told him that his mother had survived and was living in Lodz. “I went crazy and ran to the Jewish Committee. Running up the steps I saw my mother. I wanted to kiss her, but she pushed me away. She thought that a stranger was molesting her. Only when I uttered the word ‘Mama,’ did she identify me. The two of us stood there, speechless, embracing each other.” Antek Zuckerman, whom Kaplinski knew in prewar Vilna, convinced him to establish a Hebrew school in Lodz and become its first principal. “I rented a five-room apartment on Pilsudskiego Street, renamed Wschodnia Street, and advertised that a Hebrew school would open soon. Within days we were flooded with parents and children. The children were seven and eight years old, some of them older.” Kaplinski recalled that the school was quite “elastic,” it expanded and shrank continuously. Pupils were arriving and departing. “One day we had two hundred children and in a few weeks their number would shrink to fifty or sixty. All this was due to the Flight and Rescue operation. But even those who stayed with us for a few months only turned from little goyim to Jews. They started speaking Hebrew. We had some excellent teachers. The school was assisted by a school committee. These were very devoted people. Most of them were members of local Zionist parties. I recall one of them, Hilary Sztrowajs, a clever, witty businessman. Every week or two he would bring me an envelope stuffed with money. Still, most of our expenses were covered by Hehalutz.” Kaplinski served as principal of the Hebrew school for one year only. He was then appointed head of Aliyat Hanoar, Youth Aliya in Poland, but his interest in and assistance for the Hebrew school continued 27 until he left Poland for Israel, in the fall of 1948. Bela Elster, known better by her underground pseudonym Wanda, was living in Lodz under an assumed Polish identity during the last few months before liberation. Since her family and many of her friends perished in Warsaw, Wanda was reluctant to return there. She did go, however, to look for her older sister Pola, an activist in the Left Poalei Zion both before the war and in wartime Warsaw. “Immediately after liberation I hired a man with a cart and we drove to Zoliborz, where Pola’s last hiding place was located. I knew that Pola, Eliyahu Erlich and Hersz Berlinski had stayed in that bunker. But all were dead, shot by the Germans just before the 166 Chapter Six liberation of Warsaw. I was the first person who found their bodies. I dug the soil with my bare hands and covered their heads. Later on a funeral was held, and they were buried in the Warsaw Jewish Cemetery. Whereas Warsaw represented for Wanda death and loss, she perceived postwar Lodz as a place of rebirth and life. “I fell in love with Lodz. There were people around me. I had many friends at the Left Poalei Zion. Lodz was for me a kind of cure and therapy, after Warsaw. I was amazed how those simple Jews had the strength and willpower to stand up again on their feet. The city was bustling with life. There were the Zionist youth movements, the Zionist parties. Regardless of the differing opinions, there was a sense of a common purpose.” Wanda’s dream was to study medicine, and she had been accepted, but Party leaders and activists convinced her that postwar priorities and obligations were different. That’s how Wanda became active in the Dror youth movement. “The movement was my home. That was the worthiest, the most dynamic and the most significant period in my life. We were like one big family. The young boys and girls loved and trusted me, and I felt good with them, like an older sister, like a mother.” Most of those youngsters survived the war in the Soviet Union. Among them was the future writer and artist Marek Halter. “Marek was a very attractive boy. I loved him like a son. We were very close. He was very talented. His drawings and paintings were up on all the walls.” Halter, who settled in Paris, later would come and chat with Wanda in her Israel home for hours, whenever he visited the country. “Then, he became famous. He stopped coming and stopped calling.” 28 Sara Nishmit arrived in Lodz in December 1945 from Kovno, in Soviet Lithuania. “My first impression of Lodz was that it was an ugly city. One couldn’t see the skies through the smoke.” Soon after her arrival she was arrested by the local police, informed apparently in advance by Soviet security. Sara had been previously active in the illegal Zionist Brichah in Kovno. Antek Zuckerman, who had good contacts with Polish Security, intervened and she was released. She met with him and with Zivia Lubetkin. She also met with Zvi Melnitzer. Sara intended to leave soon for Palestine. However, Leybele Goldberg — Aryeh Sarid — from Kibbutz Yagur, one of the first emissaries from Palestine, convinced her to give up her plans. Sara started working for the Koordynacja and assisted in redeeming Jewish children from Polish families and Catholic convents and setting them up in Jewish children’s homes. Soon additional children started arriving from Russia. “We were short of experienced youth leaders and educators. They didn’t know Hebrew, and spoke mostly Polish. Then, following the waves of returnees from Russia, Russian was heard all over. We sent the older kids to the Lodz Hebrew school.” 187 The Others Mirski told them that “following a request of Jewish PPR activists I have been delegated by the Party Central Committee to work among Jews. I’m already residing in Lodz, the largest center of Jewish population. There I chair the Jewish Committee.” Klara distinctly recalled her encounter with Lodz, after a short stay in her ruined native Warsaw. “I suddenly saw a normal, intact city. Our apartment on 27 Sienkiewicza Street was beautiful. In spite of the enormous tragedy which I faced in Poland I was selfishly happy. I had Michal and Majka near me, and the War was over.” The first postwar years in Lodz were, apparently, the happiest time in Klara’s life. She worked at the Jewish Historical Commission and became absorbed in interviewing Holocaust survivors. Her beloved and adored daughter got married, and the Mirskis’ first granddaughter was born. Although Mirski was totally involved in his public and political functions, he could also be empathic and emotional at times. Years later he recalled the arrival of thousands of Jewish returnees from the Soviet Union. “It was a late Saturday afternoon, the end of a very busy and tiresome day at the Committee. A woman with a small child was ushered into my room by one of the clerks. There was no room anymore at the Jakuba Street hostel. The woman had neither relatives nor friends in town. She had just arrived from the Soviet Union, where she had lost her husband. We were about to lock up the Committee offices and she would have to go out into the streets. I thought for a moment and told the clerk to send her to my home address.” The woman and her daughter stayed at the Mirskis for a few weeks. When in 1949 Folks-Shtime moved to Warsaw, Mirski relocated to the capital, where he also joined the Editorial Board of Nowe Drogi (New Ways), the leading ideological Party publication. He was replaced as head of the Lodz Jewish Committee by Maria Feingold, director of the Helenowek Children’s Home. The move to Warsaw must have been a significant step in Mirski’s career. Klara, however, missed Lodz. “I was sorry to leave Lodz. I wish we’d never left it. For Michal, Lodz had become 11 too provincial. He never looked back.” Mirski’s Communist convictions affected his attitudes toward the Jewish population’s future in Poland and towards Zionism. As early as August 1945, he expressed his criticism of Zionist “manipulations” of Jewish youth. It wasn’t uncommon for Zionist activists to try to convince boys and girls at the CCPJ’s childrens’ homes to leave illegally for Palestine. A case in point was the CCPJ childrens’ home in Chorzow, near Katowice, from which a group of thirty children had disappeared. Another group of eighteen children disappeared from the CCPJ’s childrens’ home in Bielsko Biala. Mirski accused the chairman of the Jewish Committee in Katowice of conspiring with the Zionists and demanded an unequivocal condemnation. Mirski, like other Communist Jewish activists, was aware of the somewhat impossible situation in which they found themselves vis- 188 C ha p t e r S e v e n a-vis the Zionists on the one hand and the regime on the other. During a meeting of the Communist Fraction in May 1945, he stated: “In respect to emigration we are in a rather difficult position. Our Government cannot relate to this problem in a negative manner. We, however, as Party members active in the Jewish milieu, must spread our conviction as Polish citizens in respect to the country’s reconstruction and to our obligation to stay here and take part in it.” In April 1949, Mirski attacked Adolf Berman, leader of the Left Poalei Zion. “In your newspapers there has not been a single article against the abandonment of Europe and Poland [by Jews]. We, Marxists, cannot accept aliyah.” 12 Michal and Klara Mirski were staunch Stalinists in Lodz as well as during their first years in Warsaw. Klara considered Jewish writers, historians and intellectuals who left Poland as opportunists and traitors. “The Historical Commission turned into a train station. People were grabbing their luggage, boarding trains and disappearing. They became strangers to me.” She couldn’t comprehend how Dr. Philip Friedman, initiator of the Jewish Historical Commision in Poland and a leading historian of the Holocaust, could leave for the US. The Yiddish writer Shmerke Kaczerginski left for Paris and settled in Argentina. Klara detested particularly the young Vilna poet-partisan Abraham Sutskever. “He had been the darling of the Soviet authorities. Now, like a snake, he used to slip into the room where I worked with Kaczerginski. He would walk around and sniff like a cat. He was secretive, withdrawn and hateful in his own, special way. He, too, intended to travel West. I considered him a traitor and abhorred him. Shortly afterward he left for Palestine, where he started attacking the Soviet Union.” 13 In 1947/48, when the Soviet Union and Poland supported the establishment of a Jewish state, Mirski’s anti-Zionist criticism was somewhat muted. The onset of full-blown Stalinism in Poland in 19491953 resulted in his most vicious attacks against Zionism and Israel. Mirski’s article “Zionism as a Tool of American Imperialism,” published in the January 1953 issue of Nowe Drogi, backed Soviet accusations in regard to the “Doctors’ Plot” in Moscow and the trial of Slansky in Prague. Stalin’s death, destalinization, and Khrushchev’s anti-Stalinist speech in February 1956 affected Mirski’s ideological and political attitudes. In a lengthy speech at a meeting of the Polish Writers’ Union, he expiated his past mistakes. The events of March 1968 and the subsequent antiSemitic campaign in Poland forced the Mirskis to emigrate. Unlike most of his Communist colleagues who had been working in the Jewish sector and emigrated to Israel, Mirski preferred to settle in Denmark. Although he now regretted his past adoration of Stalin and Stalinist Russia, he still identified with Communism and considered himself Polish. In his correspondence with Adolf Berman, who had earlier emigrated to Israel, Mirski was mostly defensive. As for his identity, he stated unequivocally: 195 The Others were seven of them: Bono and Pinche Wiener, Avreml Zheleznikov, Simche Binem, Hillel Kempinski, Pearl and Arkadiusz. This was in September 1948. Kempinski, whom I met in the 1960’s in New York, was then in charge of the Bund Archives. Students and scholars of East Europen Jewry who used the Archives recall him as a somewhat eccentric but always helpful old bachelor who spoke a special dialect of Yiddishized English. 20 Ala Margolis arrived in Lodz a few weeks after liberation. She joined her mother, who had reclaimed their spacious prewar apartment. According to Ala, Marek Edelman settled in Lodz mainly because of her. Marek was then 26 and Ala 18. Ala’s mother did not approve of their relation at first, but some time later agreed that they could move together into Ala’s grandmother’s house on Mostowa Street. Ala’s friend Aniela, also a first year medical student, moved in with them. They used to study for exams together. “Aniela and myself were very serious students, but Marek was rather lazy and we tried to convince him to take things seriously. He used to lie for hours on the sofa, and although he didn’t really prepare for exams, he somehow passed them.” Marek Edelman also recalled those days in postwar Lodz. “The war was over, but I didn’t consider its ending a victory. For me it was a lost war. I lay down and slept, for days and weeks. People told me that I must do something. Initially I considered studying Economics, but Ala enrolled me in medical studies, so I went there, though I wasn’t interested in the least. When we returned home from the University I would go to bed and lay for hours facing the wall. Some time later I understood that as a doctor I could save human lives, like I did at the Umschlagplatz in the Warsaw Ghetto.” Whereas Marek was quite active in the Bund, Ala was completely apolitical. “I remember how Leszek Kolakowski used to lecture about Marxism on Piotrkowska Street. I intended to go there, but Marek forbade me to do so. I’m indebted to him for not letting me join the Party.” Marek’s moods, apparently, alternated. At times he was depressed and apathetic. At other times he was humorous and even frivolous. Ala recalled: “We were young and we weren’t depressed at all. A new, different life had started. We took a trip out of town once and Marek arranged for a competition — who would reach first a certain tree. All of us started running, but Marek remained standing, laughing at us. On another occasion we went dancing, but since Marek didn’t know how to dance, he 21 just started jumping, and all of us joined him.” Kuba Goldberg arrived in Lodz in July 1945. “It was only natural for me to return to Poland, to Lodz. The city looked very familiar, it hadn’t changed, except for the ghetto area. I went to our prewar house, where some people were living in our apartment. I didn’t have the energy to claim it. I also went to my grandma’s prewar house and the doorkeeper was very welcoming. He let me stay with him for some time. He also told me that nobody of my family had shown up. That meant that I was the 196 C ha p t e r S e v e n only survivor. Of course I was sad, but somehow, I had to face it.” Kuba didn’t marry in the immediate postwar years and was convinced that life for lonely Jewish men was more difficult than for couples. What seems to have kept him going was his strong will to continue his studies. “I definitely knew that I wanted to study. I was interested in History, Jewish History in particular. After completing my interrupted high school education, I enrolled at Lodz University in the fall of 1947. I was successful in my studies and was quite soon appointed as an assistant.” Kuba was also active in a Socialist student organization and used to have arguments with Communist students. He recalled such political theorists as Adam Schaff and Jan Strzelecki. Kuba also knew Leszek Kolakowski. After the merger of the PPS with the PPR and with the increasing power of the Communists, Kuba was squeezed out of his social and political student activities. All that time he was living in the Bursa, which he perceived as his home. It wasn’t easy for Kuba to bridge the gap between his Jewish and Polish identities. “We would argue about Polish and Jewish suffering and loss during the war and the occupation. My Polish colleagues tried to convince me that the Polish tragedy was worse than that of the Jews. I was astounded: my entire family had vanished. Numerous Jews, who either survived the German occupation or returned from Russia, left Poland. However, most of the young Jews steeped in Polish culture, like myself, didn’t leave.” Professor Goldberg was proud of the fact that he had never considered Polonizing his name. “I never concealed my roots. I didn’t change my name to Zlotogorski or Zlotoryjski. I’ve always remained Jakub Goldberg. Among my Jewish friends and colleagues who were steeped in Polish culture I was a Jew par excellence, since I was interested in Jewish matters.” Kuba was friendly with Marek Edelman and Ala Margolis. He recalled that Ala wanted Marek to be less active in the Bund, so that he could devote his time to studying medicine. “She, actually, made him complete his studies.” Although the Kielce pogrom shocked Kuba, the conclusion he drew from it differed from that of the Zionists. “The Kielce tragedy increased my conviction that only the type of government which existed at that time in Poland could overcome anti-Semitism. Following the emergence of the State of Israel, a new exodus of Polish Jews began. I never considered leaving Poland. For me this was unthinkable.” When Goldberg the historian was asked decades later about the negative Jewish and Israeli attitudes toward Poles, he expressed his belief that “Poland should be examined not only as a country where Jews had perished, but also as a country where Jews had lived for centuries, and where religious tolerance 22 had functioned on a larger scale than in any other place.” Kazik Rutenberg visited Lodz a number of times when he was still in the Polish Air Force. He went to the Jewish Committee to look for survivors 199 The Others the war in Russia and had been placed by his mother in Helenowek. Henryk would return to school, this time to the Peretz Yiddish school on 49 Kilinskiego Street, only in March 1947. The Helenowek years must have been a significant formative period in Henryk’s life. It is there that he expressed in writing for the first time his thoughts and emotions concerning the wartime fate of the Jews. Following a field trip into a flowering meadow with his favorite teacher, Pani Pola Barenholc, who remarked something about those who did not live to see that beautiful spring day, Henryk wrote a short essay about those who did not make it. “My page was included in the children’s wall broadsheet. Children would read the broadsheet, look in my direction and some of them would nod their heads, but nobody uttered as much as a word.” In an interview conducted half a century later, Grynberg, the writer, recalled that “neither at school nor in the Helenowek Children’s Home did we talk about our worst experiences. We never discussed our dreadful past. We did know that somebody doesn’t have a father and somebody else doesn’t have a mother, but we never inquired how these things happened. We didn’t talk or think about the past. Only the present mattered.” Henryk once joined a group of “Russian” youngsters and, with them, was caught stealing vegetables from the Helenowek greenhouse. Pani Maria, an educator whom Henryk respected highly, scolded him and expressed her disappointment. “After the stealing incident my mother took me back home.” That was October 1949. Henryk was very attached to his mother. It is with her that he had shared his most dangerous and dreadful times. She remarried in Lodz. Uszer, Henryk’s stepfather, came from Dobre and had known Henryk’s family. He was a survivor of the Warsaw Ghetto, Mauthausen and Treblinka. Uszer had lost his first wife and their two children. In prewar Warsaw Uszer had leaned towards Communism. “When Uszer married my mother, the cantor himself said the Kiddush, since Uszer didn’t know such things. All Uszer said was ‘Amen’.” In his highly emotional, elegiac memoir about his deceased mother, Grynberg relived his love and adoration for her. He used the diminutive, endearing Yiddish Mamesi, which he apparently had never used in her lifetime. “I’ll never forget your flowered cloche-gown when you arrived to visit me in Helenowek. It was my birthday. You brought a jar of strawberries in sour cream, which we ate sitting on the grass, in the shade of apple trees. I can assure you that never in my life had I tasted anything like those strawberries and never have I been happier than in those moments.” Henryk attended the Yiddish school on Kilinskiego Street for five years. This was an unusual experience for young Henryk, who had been previously instructed to think and act like a Polish boy. “On Sunday mornings, with schoolbags on our backs, we used to run along the cleanly swept streets to the amazed looks of passersby and tram conductors.” 200 C ha p t e r S e v e n Henryk remembered some of his teachers, especially Mr. Helman, the History teacher, whom he presented later as a tragicomic figure in one of his autobiographical novels. The school was usually overcrowded. “It was difficult to walk the corridors. The kids used to sing and dance during the recesses. These were mostly Zionist songs. And they kept dancing the Hora.” The school started changing around 1948/1949. Numerous students left for Israel. “My best friends disappeared, as did the Zionist youth movement uniforms. Classes became increasingly smaller. They stopped teaching us Hebrew altogether and most of the subjects now were taught in Polish. Those students who stayed on came mostly from assimilated and Communist families. There were also a few shlemazls like myself.” Although Henryk’s family planned to leave Poland at one time, his stepfather was arrested for illegal trading at an inopportune moment. By the time he was returned to the family, their emigration papers had expired. Henryk, who would later join the Warsaw Jewish State Theater, started his acting career in postwar Lodz. He was assigned his first role, that of a Jewish youngster, in Kruczkowski’s “Germans,” at the Teatr Powszechny. He was thirteen at the time. “Some women fainted as I told the audience, ‘They killed everybody, mother, grandpa and little Esterke. Only I’ve survived.’” He was also selected to play a Jewish boy-smuggler in Aleksander Ford’s Border Street. Henryk participated in Gross’s Unzere Kinder as well. Although, as he recalled, there was very little discussion about the Holocaust among Jewish children, the issues and themes of Henryk’s future writings started budding already in those first postwar years. Grynberg, whose books would depict wartime Jewish tragedy and suffering, admitted years later that “as a survivor of the Holocaust, I consider bearing witness my most important moral duty.” 24 208 Epilogue spoke Yiddish at home, but I started to despise that language. I became an admirer of Polish literature and Polish culture. I read a lot of Polish books. I owe my good Polish to that short period in my life.” All this lasted until August 1950, when Aharon’s family left for Israel. 12 When I interviewed Richard in my hotel room in Prague, he broke down and cried twice. The first time was when he told me how his great uncle David from New York, a successful photographer and portraitist, had contacted his mother when they were living in Lodz. “I think I owe him the life that I now have. He got us into France. He supported us in Paris while we stayed there, and eventually he managed to get us immigration papers to Canada. He got us on the road to a new life.” The second time was when Richard recalled meeting with his father after decades of estrangement. “My mind was quite poisoned against my father by my mother.” Richard’s wife, Marika, a Holocaust survivor, tried for years to convince him to establish contact with his father. When she went for a visit to her native Hungary in the late 1970s, she stopped in Frankfurt herself to meet with him. As a result, Richard met finally with his father in New York. “We had a marvelous time.” 13 Ada Gibraltar continued her high school education in a Polish school. Her stepfather, who had worked in Lodz for the Keren Kayemet, The Jewish National Fund, until it closed, moved to Warsaw, where he accepted a position at the Israeli Legation. Gibraltar was denied emigration papers several times. He died of cancer in 1953. Ada studied in a Warsaw high school for two years and graduated in 1954. I wondered about her transition from a Jewish, Zionist-oriented life at our Lodz Hebrew School and the Gordonia youth movement into a Polish milieu. “When people are 15 or 16, they are quite immersed in themselves. They attempt to be like all the others. My best friends now were some Polish girls. I even went out for a few months with Michal, a Pole.” Ada completed two years of medical school in Warsaw and emigrated to Israel in 1957. 14 Ewa’s second husband Leon died in mid-1949. Her older daughter Nadia was eight and her infant daughter Miriam was six months old. Nadia recalled that things started changing at that time. “People were making choices in their lives, deciding about their future, defining their identities. And children could sense it. I remember that people were emigrating to Israel. On my way to school, I noticed that some stores were being closed. The notices on the doors usually announced ‘closed for renovation.’ But those stores never reopened.” Some of Ewa’s friends left for Israel, but she wasn’t offended or hurt. She just accepted the fact that they had made their choice. Ewa with her two daughters moved to Warsaw in 1954 and continued her studies in education at the Party Institute for Social Studies. 209 E p i l og ue That year she also met Abraham Przemyslawski, who would become her third husband. “He lived in Lodz at that time and I lived in Warsaw. It was very romantic. Like a novel.” At the Institute, Ewa renewed her contact with Feingold-Falkowska, who worked there as a pedagogical secretary. “I used to consult with her a lot during those years. I would cry and ask her whether I should leave Poland.” Ewa emigrated to Israel in 1959. 15 Henryk Flug left Lodz for Warsaw in 1948. “Many of my Polish and Jewish friends moved to Warsaw around that time.” Flug was appointed Deputy Editor of Sztandar Mlodych, the Party youth newspaper. After a while, he was sent to study at the Higher Party School and after graduation, in the mid-fifties, he was offered the position of Regional Party Secretary in Bialystok. The mid-fifties in Poland were a time of internal Party conflicts between hardliners and liberals. Flug was supposed to increase the number of liberals in the Bialystok Region. However, an incident that occurred eight months after his arrival had a dramatic effect on his life. “The top Party functionaries of the Communist Party of Belorussia and of the Bialystok Region in Poland met in Puszcza Bialowieska. I was the only Jew at that meeting. The Soviet representatives started complaining to their Polish comrades that ‘a clique of Jewish cosmopolitans is gaining control over the Polish Communist Party. We should not allow this to happen.’ This was the breaking point for me. I returned to Warsaw and told Dorotka that we must leave Poland.” Flug left the Party. Following a number of futile attempts to get official approval, the Flugs left Poland for Israel in early 1958. 16 Kuba Goldberg, after completing his Ph.D. in history, lectured at Lodz University. He stayed in Lodz until 1967 and emigrated to Israel before the March 1968 anti-Semitic events. “Anti-Jewish moods in Lodz were more prominent than elsewhere. These moods were felt at the University as well. Some of my Warsaw friends accused me of panicking. I had been convinced that anti-Semitism was on the rise. I sensed that they would not allow me to be Polish anymore. That’s why we left in 1967. Numerous Lodz University historians had been active in the 1968 events. The younger generation there is completely unaware of the disgrace of their academic mentors. Anti-Jewish incidents in Lodz, even before 1968, differed from those in other places. Whereas in other cities people were forced to go to anti-Zionist meetings and rallies and were rather passive, in Lodz they initiated those acts.” Still, in an interview published in Poland in 2002, Goldberg maintained: “I am part of the Polish school of history. I live abroad, but I do not consider myself a foreigner in Poland.” 17 212 C o n c l u d i n g R e marks the geographical and cultural sense. Ewa’s wartime journey took her from Lodz to Soviet-occupied Bialystok, then to Magnitogorsk, to Poltava in Soviet Ukraine, to Orsk in the Southern Urals, and then back to Lodz. Szulim Rozenberg traveled from Warsaw to Soviet-occupied Vilna, then to the Komi Autonomous Republic in the Soviet North, to the Gorki region and to Krasnodar, north of the Black Sea, from where he traveled to Lodz. Majerczak traveled from Warsaw to Soviet-occupied Lwow, was deported to the Volgostroi labor camps on the Upper Volga, lived for some time in Ordzhonikidze and in Krasnovodsk, from where he traveled to Samarkand in Uzbekistan. There he joined Berling’s Polish Army and returned to Poland as an officer. The postwar population of Lodz, although severely diminished and different in ethnic composition, was steadily growing. Lodz was also becoming the largest Jewish urban center in Poland, particularly as a result of the flow of Jewish returnees from Russia. An overwhelming majority of those who settled in or passed through Lodz in the postwar years were not native sons, Lodzer Yidn. They originated from throughout Poland, and some of them even founded landsmannshaftn, hometown societies of their own. Many Jews were attracted to the city because they already had a relative, friend or acquaintance there. A sort of snowball effect took place. Loneliness and anti-Semitism were also factors in a prevailing quest for “togetherness.” Like other centers of Jewish population in postwar Poland, Lodz served as a transitory venue. Still, more Jews lived there for various periods of time than in any other Polish city. In fact, every fourth Jew in postwar Poland lived for weeks, months and sometimes for years in that city, and found that it was safer for Jews than were other Polish cities. Postwar Polish and Jewish Lodz were permeated, if in different ways, by a sense of vitality, intensity and even euphoria. As Warsaw was in ruins, Lodz effectively became the center of Polish culture, arts and entertainment. It was a significant center of Jewish life as well. Hope for the future was more common among the ideologically-inclined and among the young: people became immersed in their personal and social rehabilitation; young Jewish men and women focused on rebuilding their shattered lives. They resumed their interrupted education. In spite of differing and conflicting ideologies, there was something the young Jewish Communists and the young Zionists had in common: both were intensely future-oriented. The former were convinced that there was a future for Jews in postwar Poland. The latter believed in rebuilding their lives in Palestine and in Israel. As for older Jews and their families, their Palestine/Israel-oriented response was a result of a wish to live among Jews, in a Jewish state and the impact of the organizational abilities and financial resources of the Zionists. Some 213 C on c l u di n g Remarks Jews decided to leave Poland as a result of the growing Stalinization of the country. People did not just help themselves. They also helped others. They were willing to share their crowded apartments and rooms with relatives, friends and even complete strangers. Perhaps the extreme conditions of life in Nazi-occupied Poland, in the ghettos and camps, as well as in warravaged Russia, changed their peacetime habits and attitudes. When I asked old, sick Helena Leneman, who as a young woman had been in charge of a Koordynacja children’s home in Lodz, what motivated her, she replied: “We had lost everything, and they were orphans. Somebody had to replace their missing parents.” Tsipora Nahir, in her mid-seventies when interviewed, and a youngster of fifteen and sixteen in postwar Lodz, confided: “Hashomer Hatzair gave me back my youth, the ability to laugh, to fool around, to fall in love, and to be normal again.” Professor Matityahu Mintz, now in his eighties, never forgot the euphoria of working with Zionist youngsters in postwar Poland. Following Warsaw’s reconstruction and revival in the late forties, most of the out-of-town intellectuals, writers and artists left Lodz for the capital. So did significant institutions. Lodz, which had always been a distinctly proletarian city, became now increasingly provincial. Although thousands of Jews still remained there after the 1949-1951 emigration, and despite the few remaining Communist Jewish frameworks in the city, the vibrant and variegated Jewish life of the immediate postwar years was gone. Even Communist Jewish institutions, like the Jewish Historical Commission, and Communist Jewish leaders such as Michal Mirski, moved to Warsaw. As a result of the ensuing emigration of Polish Jews in the late fifties and in the late sixties, Lodz became almost Judenrein. Even the memory of things Jewish faded away. 218 B i o g r a p h i c a l N otes Kaplinski went into hiding. He was eventually caught and deported to labor camps. Kaplinski arrived in Lodz in February 1945, and became active in the local Zionist movement. He was the first principal of the Hebrew Ghetto Fighters’ School. Within a year he was appointed head of the Aliyat Hanoar — Youth Aliya in Poland. Kaplinski emigrated to Israel in the fall of 1948. Klugman, Aleksander, Alek, (1925-). Lived in Lodz. He joined the underground communist youth organization in the Lodz Ghetto. Klugman was deported to Auschwitz in August 1944 and ended up in the Flossenburg camp in Germany. He returned to Lodz in July 1945. He was the only survivor in his family. In Lodz, he learned printing and worked as a printer for the Yiddish newspaper Dos Naje Lebn. Later he became a journalist. Klugman left Poland for Israel in 1957. Lorber, Maria, (1914-2005). Lived in Ryki and then in Warsaw. After graduating from a Polish elementary school, she studied in a Jewish high school. She studied in the Konarski Educational Institute and in Wolna Wszechnica in Warsaw. She also taught at a Jewish elementary school. Following the German occupation, Maria lived in the Ryki Ghetto and when it was liquidated in 1942, she was interred in several labor camps. After liberation, she lived for a few months in Ryki and then settled in Lodz. She worked there at Film Polski and joined the Communist Party. Later on she held a senior position at the local censorship bureau. Maria left Poland in the late 1960s and settled in Israel. Lubelsky, Richard, (1934-). Lived in Radomsko. His family traveled to Soviet occupied Eastern Poland in the fall of 1939 and was deported to Siberia. The Lubelskys traveled to Kazakhstan in late 1941 and settled in Semipalatinsk. Richard’s parents separated there in 1943. Richard and his mother left for Poland in 1946 and settled in Lodz. Richard then lived in the Helenowek Children’s Home. He attended the Ghetto Fighters’ Hebrew School. Richard and his mother left Lodz for Paris in 1949 and they settled in Montreal, Canada in 1951. Majerczak, Binyamin, (1917- 2005). Lived in Wloclawek and graduated from the local Hebrew high school. He studied electrical engineering in Warsaw. He traveled to Soviet-occupied Brest in the fall of 1939, and ended up in Lwow. He was arrested there in June 1940 and deported to a labor camp, part of the Volgostroi project on the upper Volga. He was released in the fall of 1941, and traveled to Ordzhonikidze. where 219 B i og r a p hi c a l No tes he worked as an electrician. Majerczak left Ordzhonikidze in the summer of 1942 and settled in Samarkand, Uzbekistan. He joined the Polish Kosciuszko Division in May 1943, and participated in the Battle of Lenino in October 1943. After graduating as an officer from a Soviet Armored Corps Academy, Majerczak fought in a number of battles in Poland and Germany. He arrived in Lodz in the fall of 1946, and was active there in the Zionist movement. He also taught at the local Hebrew and Yiddish schools. He left for Israel in the fall of 1948. Margolis-Edelman, Alina, Ala, (1922- 2008). Lived in Lodz. She was sent by her mother to relatives in Warsaw in the fall of 1939. Ala lived in the Warsaw Ghetto, studied nursing and worked as a nurse. She participated in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising and in the Warsaw Uprising. Later on she lived in Grodzisk and returned with her mother to Lodz a few weeks after the liberation of the city. In Lodz, Ala studied medicine, became a pediatrician and worked in a children’s clinic. She married Marek Edelman in 1951. Following the March 1968 events in Poland, she left with her two children for Paris. Alina Edelman-Margolis was active for years in various medical organizations in France and abroad. She died in Paris and was buried in the ecumenical cemetery in Bagneux. Meridor, Ivri, formerly Heniek Napadow (1934-). Lived in Warsaw. He traveled to Soviet occupied Bialystok in the fall of 1939, was deported to Magnitogorsk and lived for a while in the Kuban region. His father was drafted into the Red Army, and he never returned. Heniek and his mother ended up in Uzbekistan, where he was put into a children’s home. Heniek arrived in Lodz in 1946. He lived in the Koordynacja Children’s Home, studied at the Hebrew School and joined Hashomer Hatzair. He left Poland for Israel in 1950. Mintz, Matityahu, (1923-). Lived in Lublin and moved with his family to Warsaw in 1932. He studied there in a Jewish high school and joined Hashomer Hatzair. Mordechai Anielewicz, the future leader of the Warsaw Ghetto uprising was Mintz’s counselor in the Warsaw branch of the movement. Mintz left German-occupied Warsaw in October 1939. He reached Vilna in December 1939 and remained there until January 1941, when he traveled to Palestine. There he joined kibbutz Gan-Shmuel and was active in Hashomer Hatzair. He was sent in 1948 to Poland as an emissary to the Hashomer Hatzair youth movement. Mintz returned to Israel in the summer of 1949. 220 B i o g r a p h i c a l N otes Patron, Rachel, Rela, formerly, Rubinow, Rav-Nof (1936-). Lived in Bialystok. Her family was deported to the Soviet interior in June 1941. After living a few months in the Altai region, they moved to the city of Biysk. They lived there until their return to Poland in 1946. Rachel arrived in Lodz in the fall of 1946. She lived in a Zionist children’s home and studied in the Ghetto Fighters’ Hebrew School. She left Poland in 1948, lived a few months in a DP camp in Marseille and arrived in Israel in the early fall of 1949. Podeh, Fayvl, formerly Podemski (1924-). Lived in Lodz. He joined Hashomer Hatzair in 1933, and became a youth counselor. Fayvl was active in Hashomer Hatzair in the Lodz Ghetto. He was among the few survivors of the Lodz Ghetto liberated there in January 1945. He was elected to the Lodz Jewish Committee in February 1945. He also served as the first head of the Hashomer Hatzair branch in postwar Lodz. Fayvl arrived in Israel in early 1950. Pomerantz, Shlomo, (1934-). Lived in Lodz. He traveled with his family to Soviet-occupied Lwow in the fall of 1939. They were deported to Siberia and later settled in Uzbekistan. The Pomerantzs returned to Lodz in 1946. Shlomo attended the Ghetto Fighters’ Hebrew School and joined the Hashomer Hatzair youth movement. Following the closing of the Hebrew School in late 1949, Shlomo studied at the Peretz Yiddish School. The Pomerantzs emigrated from Poland to Israel in late 1950. Rotenberg, Wanda, formerly Bela Elster (1924-2008). Lived in Warsaw and studied in Jewish schools. Her older sister, Pola Elster of the Poalei Zion Left, introduced her to the party’s youth organization. Wanda joined the Jewish Fighting Organization (the ZOB) in the Warsaw Ghetto and acted as a liaison with the Polish underground. After the war she lived in Lodz and was active in the Dror youth organization. Wanda settled in Israel in 1950. Rozenberg, Szulim, (1918-). Lived in Warsaw and joined the Bund. He traveled to the Soviet-occupied territories of Eastern Poland and was deported to the Komi Autonomous Republic in Northern USSR. Later he settled in the Gorki region. He moved to Krasnodar in 1944, and returned to Poland in 1946. He worked for the Lodz Jewish Committee and was active in the Bund. Szulim Rozenberg left Lodz in 1948 and settled in Paris. Rutenberg, Kaimierz, Kazik, (1924-). Lived in Sosnowiec. He was with his 221 B i og r a p hi c a l No tes mother in Rovno when the Soviet Union annexed Eastern Poland. They were deported to Siberia. Kazik joined General Berling’s Polish Army in 1943, and became a fighter pilot. He was demobilized in 1946 and settled in Lodz, where he completed his secondary education and studied engineering. He settled in Israel in 1957. Nishmit-Shner, Sarah, Sonia, formerly Dusznicki (1913-2008). Lived in Lithuania and was active as a youth counselor. She studied Classics and Education. Sarah taught for some time at the Jewish Teachers’ Seminary in Vilna. Following the German invasion she joined a Soviet partisan unit and worked as a field nurse. She arrived in Lodz in 1945, and was active in the Koordynacja. Sarah married Zvi Shner; both settled in Israel and were among the founders of the Ghetto Fighters’ kibbutz. 224 N ot e s 2. Eugeniusz Mironowicz, Polityka narodowosciowa PRL. (Bialystok: Wydanie Bialostockiego Towarzystwa Historycznego, 2000); Leszek Olejnik, Polityka narodowosciowa Polski w latach 1944-1960 (Lodz: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Lodzkiego, 2003). 3. Ludwik Mroczka, “Dynamika rozwoju i struktura spoleczno-zawodowa glownych grup etnicznych w Lodzi w latach 1918-1939,” in Polacy-Niemcy-Zydzi w Lodzi w XIX-XX w: Sasiedzi dalecy i bliscy, ed. Pawel Samus (Lodz: Ibidem, 1997), 99-117. 4. Pawel Samus, “Lodz - mala ojczyzna Polakow, Niemcow, Zydow.” in PolacyNiemcy-Zydzi w Lodzi, ed. Pawel Samus, ibid., 118-161; Andrea Loew, Juden im Ghetto Litzmannstadt: Lebensbedingungen, Selbstwahrnehmung, Verhalten (Goettingen: Wallstein Verlag 2006), 63-65. 5. S.L. Shneiderman, Between Fear and Hope, (New York: Arco Publishing Company, 1947), 155. 6. Michal Unger, Lodz: The Last Ghetto in Poland (in Hebrew), (Jerusalem: Yad Vashem), 2005. 7. Joanna Michlic, “Lodz in the Post-Communist Era: In Search of a New Identity,” (Center for European Studies, Harvard University, Program on Eastern and Central Europe. Working Paper Series # 65 (2006). 8. Ludwik Mroczka, “Dynamika rozwoju,” op. cit.; Pawel Samus, “Lodz - mala ojczyzna,” op. cit.; Gordon J. Horwitz. Ghettostadt: Lodz and the Making of a Nazi City, (Cambridge, MA and London: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press), 2008; Leszek Olejnik, “Lodz wielonarodowa w pierwszych latach po II Wojnie Swiatowej,” Rocznik Lodzki, XLV (1998): 185-210; Leszek Olejnik, Spolecznosc zydowska w Lodzi w latach 1945-1950, zarys problemu,” Acta Universitatis Lodziensis, Folia Historica 60 (1997): 125-129; Archiwum Panstwowe w Lodzi. Zarzad Miejski w Lodzi. Wydzial statystyczny, ZM, sygn. 28. 9. Ryszard Rosin, “Szkice z dziejow Lodzi — 1945 rok,” Kronika Miasta Lodzi, zeszyt 1 (2000): 115-129. 10. Janusz Kozlowski, ed., Gorace dni, gorace lata. Wydawnictwo Lodzkie (Lodz: 1976), 51-52. 11. Padraic Kenney, Rebuilding Poland: Workers and Communists, 1945-1950 (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press 1997), 74. 12. Antony Beevor and Luba Vinogradova, eds., A Writer at War: Vasily Grossman with the Red Army, 1941-1945 (New York: Pantheon Books, 2005), 315. 13. Gorace dni: 34, 55, 77, 142. 14. Ibid.: 26, 46, 175. 15. Michael Checinski, Poland: Communism, Nationalism, Anti-Semitism (New York: Karz-Kohl Publishing, 1982), 156-157. 16. Krzysztof Lesiakowski, Mieczyslaw Moczar, “Mietek”: biografia polityczna. (Warsaw: Rytm, 1998), 95-130. 17. Lukasz Kaminski, “Lodzkie protesty mlodziezy, 1945-1946,” Kronika Miasta Lodzi zeszyt 1-2 (1997): 176-185; Tomasz Rostworowski. Zaraz po wojnie: wspomnienia duszpasterza (1945-1956) (Paris: Editions Spotkania, 1986), 27-31. 18. Padraic Kenney, Rebuilding Poland: Workers and Communists, 1945-1950, (Ithica and London: Cornell University Press, 1997), 90. 19. Ibid,: 104, 134; Krzysztof Lesiakowski, “Nastroje mieszkancow Lodzi i wojewodztwa Lodzkiego w latach 1945-1948,” Acta Universitatis Lodziensis, 225 No t e s Folia Historica 71 (2001): 133. 20. Padraic Kenney, Rebuilding Poland, 107-115; Lukasz Kaminski, Polacy wobec nowej rzeczywistosci, 1944-1948: Formy pozainstytucjalnego zywiolowego oporu spolecznego Torun: Wydawnictwo Adam Marszalek, 2000), 68-71; Krzysztof Lesiakowski, “Nastroje,” Acta Universitatis Lodziensis, Folia Historica 71 (2001): 125-127. 21. Tranzytem przez Lodz. (Lodz: Wydawnictwo Lodzkie. 1964), 94, 96; Adolf Rudnicki. Niebieskie kartki. Slepe miasto tych lat (Warsaw: Czytelnik, 1958), 197. 22. Glowny Urzad Statystyczny Rzeczypospolitej Polskiej, “Rocznik statystyczny 1946 r,” (Warsaw: Glowny Urzad Statystyczny Rzeczypospolitej Polskiej, 1947), Vol XI: 174. 23. Tranzytem przez Lodz, op. cit., 18, 41, 66, 69, 172, 178. 24. Krystyna Sreniowska, “Warcholy w akcji: Sprawa Marii Tyrankiewiczowny,” Tygiel Kultury, Lodz, 4-5 (1998): 96-97; Tranzytem przez Lodz, 13, 19, 21, 40, 4371, 175-176. 25. Tranzytem przez Lodz, 24, 29, 66; Marci Shore, Caviar and Ashes: A Warsaw Generation’s Life and Death in Marxism, 1918-1968, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2006), 260-261, 283. 26. Tranzytem przez Lodz, 21, 239-270. 27. Erwin Axer, “Schiller w Lodzi,” Tygiel Kultury, Lodz, 7-9 (104-106), (2004), 110-130. 28. Andrzej Lapicki. Po pierwsze, zachowac dystans. Proszynski i S-ka, (Warsaw: 1999), 60. 29. Biuletyn Wydzialu Statystycznego Zarzadu Miejskiego w Lodzi, Rok 1. nr. 32, 23. IX (1948): 10; Wydzial Statystyczny, Archiwum Panstwowe w Lodzi. Zarzad Miejski w Lodzi, (Lodz: Wydzial Statystyczny, Frekwencja w kinoteatrach Lodzkich, 1947 r.), 8. ; Glowny Urzad Statystyczny Rzeczypospolitej Polskiej, Rocznik Statystyczny 1946 r, (Warsaw: Glowny Urzad Statystyczny Rzeczypospolitej Polskiej, 1947 r.), Rok XI: 176; Glowny Urzad Statystyczny Rzeczypospolitej Polskiej, Rocznik Statystyczny, 1949 r. (Warsaw: Glowny Urzad Statystyczny Rzeczypospolitej Polskiej, 1950), Rok XII: 227. 30. Edward Zajicek, “Nad Oka,” Film, 41 (1788), October 9, 1983: 3-5; Edward Zajicek, “Na rubiezach Grand Hotelu: Jak powstawala filmowa Lodz,” Odglosy (Lodz), January 16, 1988, 1, 3. 31. Tranzytem przez Lodz, 93-94. 32. Tranzytem przez Lodz, 25. 33. Jozef Potega, interview by author, Warsaw, June 18, 2003. 34. Bozena Piwkowska, interview by author, Lodz, June 23, 2003. 35. Anita Janowska, Krzyzowka, (Wroclaw: Siedmiorog, 1997); Anita Janowska, interview by author, Warsaw, June 19, 2003. 36. Jerzy Urban, Jajakobyly. Spowiedz zycia Jerzego Urbana.Spowiadali i zapisali Przemyslaw Cwiklinski, Piotr Gadzinowski (Warsaw: “BGW”); Lawrence Wechsler, “The Troll’s Tale: Jerzy Urban,” in Vermeer in Bosnia: A Reader (New York: Pantheon Books, 2004) 151-181; Jerzy Urban, interview by Ewa Kozminska-Frejlak, Warsaw, August 2009. See also an interview with Jerzy Urban by Ewa Kozminska-Frejlak published in Midrasz, January-February 2010:5-14. 37. Prof. Krystyna Sreniowska, interview by author, Lodz, July 1, 2002; Krystyna Sreniowska, “Hotel Monopol,” Tygiel Kultury, Lodz, 7-9(1999): 49-53. 227 No t e s Nowakowska, A Social Analysis of Postwar Polish Jewry, 38-45; Michal Grynberg, “Problemy zatrudnienia ludnosci zydowskiej w Polsce w pierwszych latach po II Wojnie Swiatowej,” 100-107. 9. Israel Gutman, The Jews in Poland After World War II, 64-65; Michal Grynberg, Zydowska spoldzielczosc pracy w Polsce w latach 1945-1949, (Warsaw: PWN, 1986), 167-171. 10. Israel Gutman, The Jews in Poland After World War II, 87-91; Lucjan Dobroszycki, “Restoring Jewish Life in Postwar Poland,” 60-61; Maciej Pisarski, “Emigracja Zydow z Polski w latach 1945-1951,” Studia z dziejow kultury Zydow w Polsce po 1945 roku, ed. Jerzy Tomaszewski, (Warsaw: TRIO, 1997), 29-30. 11. Jozef Adelson, “W Polsce zwanej Ludowa,” 426-428; Lucjan Dobroszycki, “Restoring Jewish Life in Postwar Poland,” 61-63; David Engel, “The Reconstruction of Jewish Communal Institutions in Postwar Poland,” 100-102; Bozena Szaynok, Ludnosc zydowska na Dolnym Slasku, 9, 64, 73-74, 77, 82-83; August Grabski, Zydowski ruch kombatancki w Polsce w latach 1944-1949 (Warsaw: TRIO, 2002), 20-25. 12. Natalia Aleksiun, Dakad dalej? Ruch sjonistyczny w Polsce (1944-1950) (Warsaw: TRIO, 2002); Jozef Adelson, “W Polsce zwanej Ludowa,” 433-447; Alina Cala and Helena Datner-Spiewak, eds. Dzieje Zydow w Polsce, 1944-1948 (Warsaw: Zydowski Instytut Historyczny, 1997), 76-86. 13. Jozef Adelson, “W Polsce zwanej Ludowa,” 434-439; Bozena Szaynok, Ludnosc zydowska na Dolnym Slasku, 172-175; Natalia Aleksiun, “Where Was there a Future for Polish Jewry? Bundist and Zionist Polemics in Post-World War II Poland,” Jack Jacobs, ed., Jewish Politics in Eastern Europe: The Bund at 100 (New York: University Press), 227-242. Bozena Szaynok, “Bund i Komunisci zydowscy w Polsce po 1945 roku,” Midrasz July-August (1998): 57-64. 14. Jeff Schatz, The Generation: The Rise and Fall of the Jewish Communists of Poland, (Berkeley-Los Angeles-Oxford: University of California Press, 1991); Bozena Szaynok, Ludnosc zydowska na Dolnym Slasku, 175-177; Krystyna Kersten, “Rok pierwszy,” Midrasz July-August (1998): 26-29; Maciej Pisarski, “Na zydowskiej ulicy: szkic do dziejow zydowskiej frakcji PPR i zespolu PZPR przy CKZP, 19451951,” Biuletyn BZIH 2 (1997): 35-48. 15. Szczepan Gasowski, Panstwowy Teatr Zydowski im. Ester Rachel Kaminskiej: przeszlosc i terazniejszosc, (Warsaw: PWN, 1995), 100-111. 16. Irena Hurwic-Nowakowska, A Social Analysis of Postwar Polish Jewry, 47; Bozena Szaynok, Ludnosc zydowska na Dolnym Slasku, 76-77. 17. Jozef Adelson, “W Polsce zwanej Ludowa,” 470-471. 18. Jozef Adelson, “W Polsce zwanej Ludowa,” 471; Israel Gutman, The Jews in Poland After World War II, 72-74; Natalia Aleksiun, “Rescuing a Memory and Constructing a History of Polish Jewry: Jews in Poland, 1944-1950” Jews in Russia and Eastern Europe, 1-2 (2005): 5-27. 19. Irena Kowalska, “Kartoteka TOZ z lat 1946-1947,” Biuletyn ZIH 3\952\96(175-178) (July 1995-June 1996): 97-106; ZAP Bulletin 99\109 (November 12, 1945). 20. Israel Gutman, The Jews in Poland After World War II, 79; Nachum Bogner, At the Mercy of Strangers: The Rescue of Jewish Children with Assumed Identities in Poland (in Hebrew) (Jerusalem: Yad Vashem, 2000), 226-294. 21. Israel Gutman, The Jews in Poland After World War II, 67-68; Israel Bialostocki, 228 N ot e s “Rehabilitation of the Jewish Community in Poland After the Holocaust, 19441950” (Ph.D. diss., The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1990), 153-156; Bozena Szaynok, Ludnosc zydowska na Dolnym Slasku, 74-76, 123-126; Helena DatnerSpiewak, “Instytucje opieki nad dzieckiem i szkoly powszechne Centralnego Komitetu Zydow Polskich w latach 1945-1946,” Biuletyn ZIH 1,3(117, 119), (1981): 44-47; Helena Datner, “Szkoly Centralnego Komitetu Zydow w Polsce w latach 1944-1949,” Biuletyn ZIH 1-3 (169-171) (1994): 104-108; S. Amarant, “Hebrajskie zaklady wychowawcze w Polsce.” Mosty 2(7), 13. 22. Jan T. Gross, Fear: Anti-Semitism in Poland After Auschwitz. An Essay in Historical Interpretation, (Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2006), 192-243, 247-248, 255-260; Joanna Beata Michlic, Poland’s Threatening Other: The Image of the Jew from 1880 to the Present, (Lincoln and London: University of Nebraska Press, 2006), 216-217. 23. Lucjan Dobroszycki, “Restoring Jewish Life in Postwar Poland,” 66; Jan Tomasz Gross, Upiorna dekada: trzy eseje o stereotypach na temat Zydow, Polakow, Niemcow i Komunistow, 1939-1948 (Krakow: Universitas, 1998), 96-97; Jan T. Gross, Fear, 35; Marek Jan Chodakiewicz, After the Holocaust: Polish-Jewish Conflict in the Wake of World War II, (New York: East European Monographs, 2003), 221; David Engel, “Patterns of Anti-Jewish Violence in Poland, 1944-1946, Yad Vashem Studies XXVI (1998): 43-85. 24. Bozena Szaynok, Pogrom Zydow w Kielcach 4 Lipca, 1946 (Warsaw: Bellona, 1992); Jan T. Gross, Fear, 81-166; Israel Gutman, The Jews in Poland After World War II, 34-39; Jan Tomasz Gross, Upiorna dekada, 94-95; Jan T. Gross, “In the Aftermath of the Kielce Pogrom: The Special Commission of the Central Committee of Jews of Poland,” Gal-Ed XV-XVI (1997) 119-136. 25. Michal Unger, Lodz: The Last Ghetto in Poland (in Hebrew) (Jerusalem: Yad Vashem, 2005), 542; Lodz and Lodz District (in Hebrew) [what is this? Missing data]. Pinkas Hakehillot, Poland. Vol. 1 (Jerusalem: Yad Vashem, 1976), 38; Report by A. Wertheim, ZIH Archive S 330/5, 7; ZAP Bulletin 23/33 (April 4, 1945) 2-3; A. Siedlecki, “How the Jewish Community in Lodz was Resurrected,” Bleter far geshikhte 24 (1986): 200-204; Michal Grynberg, “Lodz, 1945,” Folks-Sztyme 5 (1974). Michal Mirski, Vegn lodzer yiddishn komitet, Yad Vashem Archive 037/25, 4-10, 17-18; ZAP Bulletin (April 4, 1945). 26. Sara Zyskind, Stolen Years. (Minneapolis: Lerner Publications Company, 1981), 267-270; Michal Mirski, ibid., 21. 27. Leszek Olejnik, “Mniejszosci narodowe w Lodzi w latach 1945-1950,” Kronika Miasta Lodzi 1/2 (1999): 194-195; Leszek Olejnik, “Spolecznosc zydowska w Lodzi w latach 1945-1950: zarys problemu,” AUL Folia Historica 60 (1997: 126-127); Leszek Olejnik, “Lodz jako centrum spolecznosci zydowskiej w Polsce (19451949),” in Fenomen getta lodzkiego, 1940-1944, eds., Pawel Samus and Wieslaw Pus (Lodz: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Lodzkiego, 2006), 410; Israel Bialostocki, Rehabilitation of the Jewish Community in Poland After the Holocaust, 1944-1950, 6; ZAP Bulletin 39/49 (June 22, 1945), 1; Israel Gutman, The Jews in Poland After World War II, 26. 28. David Engel, Between Liberation and Flight, 228 ft. 66; ZAP Bulletin 15/263, (February 20, 1947): 5; Glowny Urzad Statystyczny, “Rocznik statystyczny,” 167. Michal Mirski, “Vegn lodzher yiddishn komitet,” 20. 29. Michal Unger, Lodz: The Last Ghetto in Poland, 557; ZAP Bulletin (June 27, 230 N ot e s 1940-1944, eds. Pawel Samus and Wieslaw Pus, 200-203; Dos Naje Lebn, April 28, 1947, and May 5, 1947; Opinia 17(3) (May 5, 1947): 4. 43. Leszek Olejnik, Z dziejow teatru zydowskiego w Lodzi po IIej wojnie swiatowej,” in Lodzkie sceny zydowskie: studia i materially, ed. Malgorzata Leyko (Lodz: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Lodzkiego, 2000), 144-147. 44. Malgorzata Leyko, “Ida Kaminska i Lodzki Teatr Zydowski,” in Lodzkie sceny zydowskie, ed. Malgorzata Leyko, 161-165; Ida Kaminska, My Life, My Theatre (New York and London: Macmillan & Collier, 1973) 212, 216-218; ZAP Bulletin 96/471 (November 26, 1948): 1; ZAP Bulletin 64/312 (July 9, 1947): 1. 45. Michal Unger, Lodz: The Last Ghetto in Poland, 46; Pawel Spodenkiewicz, Zaginiona dzielnica: Lodz zydowska — ludzie i miejsca (Lodz: Lodzka Ksiegarnia Niezalezna, 1999), 96-98; Shimon Dzigan, The Impact of Jewish Humour (in Yiddish) (Tel-Aviv: The Public Committee for the Celebation of the 40 th Anniversary of Shimon Dzigan’s Acting in the Yiddish Theatre, 1974), 262-267, 280-295; Israel Gutman, The Jews in Poland After World War II, 69; Lidia Ofir (Schumacher) and Natan Gross in Israeli TV documentary In the Land of the Jews, 2003; Collection of Posters, Yad Vashem Archive. 46. J. Hoberman, Bridge of Light: Yiddish Film Between Two Worlds (Philadelphia: Temple University ,1995), 327-329; Natan Gross, “The Jewish Film in Poland After World War II, 1945-1950,” (in Hebrew), Kolnoa 2 (May, 1974): 63-69; Natan Gross, Przygody Grymka w ziemi swietej (Krakow: Rabid, 2006), 42-47. 47. Pawel Spodenkiewicz, Zaginiona dzielnica, 98; Natan Gross, interview by author, Givataim, February 21, 2002; Lila Holzman, interview by author, RamatGan, October 25, 2006; Hagai Hitron, “A Rare Glimpse of a Destroyed World,” Haaretz, September 20, 2006. 48. Sharon Pucker Rivo, “The Beginning of Holocaust Cinema: Contextualizing Undzere Kinder (Poland, 1948)” (presentation at the Annual Conference of the Association of Jewish Studies, Boston, 1994); Lawrence L. Langer, Preempting the Holocaust (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1998), 157-165; Gabriel N. Finder, “The Place of Child Survivors in Jewish Collective Memory after the Holocaust: The Case of Undzere Kinder,” in Nuturing the Nation: Displaced Cildren in Europe and the USSR, 1918-1953, ed. Nick Baron (Leiden: Brill). 49. ZAP Bulletin 55/430 (June 30, 1948): 2-3; Michal Mirski, Vegn Lodzer Yiddishn Komitet. Yad Vashem Archive, 037/25, 32; Report by Michal Helman, ZIH Archive, 303/IX/1277; Report by Anatol Wertheim, ZIH Archive, s/330/5, 19-22; Helena Datner-Spiewak, “Instytucje opieki nad dzieckiem i szkoly powszechne Centralnego Komitetu Zydow Plskich w latach 1945-1946,” 44-47; Helena Datner, “Szkoly Centralnego Komitetu Zydow w Polsce w latach 1944-1949,” 105-108. 50. Leszek Olejnik, “Lodz jako centrum spolecznosci zydowskiej w Polsce (19451949), 417; Helena Datner, “Szkoly Centralnego Komitetu Zydow w Polsce w latach 1944-1949,” 114; Baruch Kaplinski, interview by author, Tel-Aviv, March 5, 2002; ZAP Bulletin 104/114 (November 23, 1945): 2; Report on “The Ghetto Fighters’” school [January 31, 1949], [the preceding brackets are part of the style] Archiwum Akt Nowych, 472/1949 (Warsaw: Education Ministry). 51. Maria Falkowska, “Dzieci z Helenowka,” in Losy zydowskie, swiadectwo zywych, Vol. 2, ed. Marian Turski (Warsaw, 1999), 31-33; Michal Mirski, Vegn Lodzer Yiddishn Komitet, 29-31; Report on the Children’s Home in Helenowek, ZIH Ar- chive, CCPJ Education Department Collection, 303/IX/1126, 1-2. 231 No t e s 52. Report for 1947, ZIH Archive, CCPJ Education Department Collection, 303/ IX/1127, 8, 11, 17 and 303/IX/135, 13. 53. Maria Falkowska, “Dzieci z Helenowka,” 42-51; Sven Sonnenberg, A Two Stop Journey to Hell (Montreal: The Canadian Foundation of Polish-Jewish Heritage, 2001), http://polish-jewish-heritag.org/Ksiazka_Svena_Sonnenberg.htm (April 2, 2009). 54. ZAP Bulletin 34/154 (April 1, 1946): 2; Aleksander Klugman, “Jak Feniks z popiolow (2): Bursa nowej nadziei,” Kronika Miasta Lodzi 3/2006: 87-92. 55. Collection of memoirs of former “Bursants,” in the possesion of the author, received from Mr. Aleksander Klugman. 56. S.L. Shneiderman, Between Fear and Hope, 176-177; Samuel Bak, Painted in Words, 398. 57. ZAP Bulletin (August 6, 1945): 3; ZAP Bulletin 35/155 (April 3, 1946): 1; Bernard D. Weinryb, “Poland,” in The Jews in the Soviet Satellites, eds. Peter Meyer et al. (Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 1953), 251. 58. Janusz Wrobel, “W cieniu Holokaustu: odrodzenie spolecznosci zydowskiej w Lodzkiem po II Wojnie Swiatowej,” Biuletyn IPN 11(58) (November 2005): 31-32. 59. Natalia Aleksiun, “The Situation of the Jews in Poland as Seen by Soviet Security Forces in 1945,” Jews in Eastern Europe 3(37) (Winter 1998): 62; Israel Gutman, The Jews in Poland After World War II, 144; ZAP Bulletin 66/76 (August 27, 1945): 1; ZAP Bulletin 98/108 (November 9, 1945): 1; ZAP Bulletin 111/112 (December 10, 1945): 1; ZAP Bulletin 25/145 (March 4, 1946): 1; Dos Naje Lebn, March 13, 1946. Joanna Szczesna, “Powszechna rzecz zabijanie. Rozmowa z Markiem Edelmanem,” Gazeta Swiateczna, January 19, 2008. 60. ZAP Bulletin 68/178 (June 26, 1946): 3; ZAP Bulletin 70/180 (July 11946): 2; Dos Naje Lebn, June 28, 1946; J. S. Hertz, The History of the Jewish Labor Bund in Lodz (in Yiddish) (New York: Unser Tsait, 1958), 470. 61. Dos Naje Lebn July 12, 1946; Yitzhak Zuckerman (“Antek”), A Surplus of Memory: Chronicle of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising (Berkeley, Los Angeles, Oxford: University of California Press, 1993), 662-664; ZAP Bulletin 82/192 (July 27, 1946): 3; ZAP Bulletin 86/186 (July 12, 1946): 2. 62. David Engel, Between Liberation and Flight, 130-131; Irena HurwicNowakowska, A Social Analysis of Postwar Polish Jewry, 32-33; Teresa Toranska. Jestesmy: rozstania ‘68 (Warsaw: Swiat Ksiazki, 2008), 14. 63. Jan Tomasz Gross, Upiorna dekada, 94-96; Michal Mirski, Vegn Lodzer Yiddishn Komitet, 35-36; J. S. Hertz, The History of the Jewish Labor Bund in Lodz, 466; Jan T. Gross, “In the Aftermath of the Kielce Pogrom: The Special Commission of the Central Committee of Jews in Poland,” Gal-Ed XV-XVI (1997): 119-136; Jan Tomasz Gross, Upiorna dekada. Wydanie nowe,poprawione i rozszerzone (Krakow; Wydawnictwo Austeria, 2007), 75-93. 64. Special Committee Collection, ZIH Archive, 303/XVIII/53 and 303/XVIII/25. 4. FRIENDS, ACQUAINTANCES, STRANGERS 1. Rachel Patron, interview by author, Omer, Israel, November 2000. Rachel Patron, “Flowers in the Snow,” a memoir, in the possesion of the author. 2. Shlomo Pomerantz, interview by author, Tel-Aviv, July 7, 2005. 232 N ot e s 3. Richard Lubelsky, interview by author, Prague, September, 1999. 4. Ada Horowitz, interview by author, Tel-Aviv, May, 2005. 5. Hanka Hornstein, interview by author, Tel-Aviv, June 2005. 6. Ivri Meridor (Heniek Napadow), interview by author, Beer-Sheva, May, 2005. 7. Aharon Eynat (Zalkind), interview by author, March 9, 2005. Testimony for the Jewish Central Historical Committe, Lodz, November 17, 1947, ZIH Archive Warsaw, 301/3619. 8. Baruch Kaplinski, interview by author, Tel-Aviv, March 5, 2001. 9. Binyamin Majerczak, interview by author, Tel-Aviv, March 4, 2002. 10. Fayvl Podeh (Podemski), interview by author, Herzliya, February 20, 2002; Fayvl Podeh (Podemski), Memories from the Lodz Ghetto (in Hebrew) (Ra’anana: Docustory Publishers, 2004); Fayvl Podeh (Podemski), “The Ken of Hashomer Hatzair in the Lodz Ghetto” (in Hebrew), Yalkut Moreshet Kaf Het (1979): 7-36; Fayvl Podeh (Podemski), “The Liquidation of the Ghetto” (in Hebrew), Yalkut Moreshet Nun Het (1994): 157-177. 11. Prof. Matityahu Mintz, interview by author, Herzliya, August 19, 2003. 12. Natan Gross, interview by author, Giv’atayim, February 21, 2002; Natan Gross, Who Are You Mr. Grymek? (in Hebrew), (Tel-Aviv: Moreshet, 1986). 13. Wanda Rotenberg, interview by author, Tel-Aviv, July 17, 2005; Shulamit Kesari, “A Heroic Story” (in Hebrew), Shiur Hofshi (Israeli Teachers’ Association) (March 2003): 6-8. Obituary by Uri Dromi, Haaretz, January 16, 2008. 14. Sarah Shner-Nishmit, interview by, author, Lohamei Hagetaot, August 12, 2003; Sarah Shner-Nishmit, I Did Not Acquire Peace (in Hebrew) (Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuhad Publishing House, 1988). 15. Maria Lorber, interview by author, Neve Ef’al, April 4, 2002. 16. Noah Flug, interview by author, Jerusalem, February 17, 2003; Noah Flug’s testimony, Yad Vashem Archive 03/4069. 17. Aleksander Klugman, interview by author, Tel-Aviv, March 4, 2002; Aleksander Klugman, “Lodzkie impresje,” Midrasz (July-August 2001): 6-7; Aleksander Klugman, “Strzepy zyciorysu,” Tygiel Kultury, Lodz, (2004): 5-106. 18. Ewa Frenkel-Przemyslawski, interview by author, Jerusalem, November 23, 2005. 19. Dziunia Liberman (Lublin), interview by author, Kiryat Motzkin, June 7, 2005. 20. Szulim Rozenberg, interview by author, Paris, September 26, 2004; Szulim Rozenberg, “Lodz zydowska po wojnie,” Midrasz (July-August, 2001): 24-25; Szulim Rozenberg, “Memories from Postwar Lodz” (presentation at the Medem Library, Paris, June 9, 2001). 21. Dr. Alina Margolis-Edelman, interview by author, Paris, September 26, 2004; Alina Margolis-Edelman, “Ala from the Primer,” Polin 11 (1998): 94-111. 22. Prof. Jacob Goldberg, interview by author, Jerusalem, February 9, 2004; “Na zajecia niose mape Polski Jagiellonow,” Nowe Ksiazki 6 (2002): 4-8. 23. Kazimierz Rutenberg, interview by author, Tel-Aviv, September 17, 2003; Yossi Elgazi, “My Grandpa’s Fighter Plane,” Haaretz, April 25, 2003. 24. Henryk Grynberg, interview by author, Omer, December 18, 2002; Henryk Grynberg, The Jewish War and The Victory (Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 2001); Jolanta Brach-Czaina, “Kompleks,” Tygodnik Powszechny 8(23-27), (February 20, 1994); Joanna B. Michlic, “Bearing Witness: Henryk Grynberg’s Path from Child Survivor to Artist,” Polin 20 (2008): 324-332. 241 No t e s 2. Documents on Israeli-Polish Relations 1945-1967, edited by Marcos Silber and Szymon Rudnicki. Jerusalem: State of Israel, Israel State Archives and The Head Office of the State Archives in Poland, 2009, 231-232; Natalia Aleksiun, Dakad dalej? Ruch syjonistyczny w Polsce (1944-1950) (Warsaw: Wydawnictwo Trio, 2002), 214; Levi Arie Sarid, The Trial of Suffering and Redemption (in Hebrew), Vol.2 (Tel-Aviv: Moreshet, 1997), 434; Letter by Eloni to Merhavya, December 1, 1949, Yad Yaari Archive, 150, 14(4); Helena Datner, “Szkoly Centralnego Komitetu Zydow w Polsce w latach 1944-1949,” BZIH 1-3 (169-171) (1994): 114; Bozena Szaynok, Ludnosc zydowska na Dolnym Slasku, 1945-1950 (Wroclaw: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wroclawskiego, 2000), 183; Joel Royzman, The Borokhov Youth and the Dror Borokhov Youth in Post Holocaust Poland (in Hebrew) (Tel-Aviv: Yad Tabenkin, 1999), 198; Israel Bialostocki, Rehabilitation of the Jewish Community in Poland After the Holocaust, 1944-1955 (Ph.D. diss., The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1990), A20; Letter from Michael to Fayvl, November 10, 1949, Yad Yaari Archive, (5)65, 1-2. 3. Joel Royzman, The Borokhov Youth and the Dror-Borokhov Youth in Post Holocaust Poland, 203, 205; Jozef Adelson, “W Polsce zwanej Ludowa,” in Najnowsze dzieje Zydow w Polsce (w zarysie do 1950 roku), ed. Jerzy Tomaszewski (Warsaw: Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN, 1993), 477; IPN Archive, Lodz, pf 10/690, t.1, 96; Yad Yaari Archive, (5)64, 1-2; IPN Archive, Lodz, pf 10/690, t.3, 30. 4. August Grabski, Dzialalnosc komunistow wsrod Zydow w Polsce (1944-1949) (Warsaw: Wydawnictwo Trio-ZIH, 2004), 326; IPN Archive, Lodz, pf 10/690, t.1, 95, 225, 18. 5. August Grabski, ibid., 325; Jozef Adelson, “W Polsce zwanej Ludowa,” 477; Helena Datner, “Szkoly Centralnego Komitetu Zydow w Polsce w latach 19441949,” 103, 109; Bozena Szaynok, Ludnosc zydowska na Dolnym Slasku, 189-191; Documents on Israeli-Polish Relations 1945-1967, edited by Marcos Silber and Szymon Rudnicki. Jerusalem: State of Israel, Israel State Archives and The Head Office of the State Archives in Poland, 2009, 200-201. 6. Report by the Social Department of the Lodz Jewish Committee for January 1-March 11, 1950, ZIH Archive, Warsaw, 303/IX/1271, 1-5. 7. Albert Stankowski, “Nowe spojrzenie na statystyki dotyczace emigracji Zydow z Polski po 1944 roku,” in Studia z historii Zydow w Polsce po 1945 r, eds. G. Berendt, A. Grabski, and A. Stankowski (Warsaw: Zydowski Instytut Historyczny, 2000), 115-117; Irena Hurwic-Nowakowska A Social Analysis of Postwar Polish Jewry (Jerusalem: The Zalman Shazar Center for Jewish History, 1986), 50; Leszek Olejnik, “Lodz wielonarodowa w pierwszych latach po II wojnie swiatowej,” Rocznik Lodzki, 45, 1998, 197; Leszek Olejnik, “Wojewodzki komitet zydowski w Lodzi-powstanie i glowne kierunki dzialalnosci (1945-1959), 21. 8. Prof. Matityahu Mintz, interview by author, Herzliya, August 19, 2003. 9. Fayvl Podeh (Podemski), interview by author, Herzliya, February 20, 2002; Fayvl Podeh (Podemski), “The Ken of Hashomer Hatzair in the Lodz Ghetto” (in Hebrew), Yalkut Moreshet Kaf Het (1979): 7. 10. Natan Gross, Przygody Grymka w Ziemi Swietej (Krakow: [publisher?], 2006), 42-48; Natan Gross, Who Are You Mr. Grymek? (in Hebrew) (Tel-Aviv: Moreshet, 1986), 228-230. 11. Hanka Hornstein, interview by author, Tel-Aviv, June 2005. 12. Aharon Eynat (Zalkind), interview by author, Tel-Aviv, March 9, 2005. 242 N ot e s 13. Richard Lubelsky, interview by author, Prague, September 1999. 14. Ada Horowitz (Gibraltar), interview by author, Tel-Aviv, May 2005. 15. Ewa Frenkel-Przemyslawski, interview by author, Jerusalem, November 23, 2005. 16. Noah Flug, interview by author, Jerusalem, February 17, 2003. 17. Prof. Jacob Goldberg, interview by author, Jerusalem, February 9, 2004; Radoslaw Januszewski and Jan Strekowski, eds. Polska w oczach cudzych (Wroclaw; Towarzystwo Przyjaciol Ossolineum, 2003), 186, 196; “Na zajecia niose mape Polski Jagiellonow,” Prof. Goldberg, interview by Radoslaw Januszewski and Jan Strekowski, Nowe ksiazki 6 (2002): 4-8. Archives List Archiwum Akt Nowych (Archives of New Documents), Warsaw. Archiwum Panstwowe (The State Archive), Lodz. Instytut Pamieci Narodowej (The Institute of National Memory), Lodz. Yad Vashem Archives, Jerusalem. Yad Ya’ari Archives, Giv’at Haviva. Zydowski Instytut Historyczny (The Jewish Historical Institute), Warsaw.