[Cz-L] Winter '42-'43

As we are on the subject of the bitterly cold winter of 1942-1943, my
thoughts are of my late grandmother Sheive, my late mother Rosa and my then
two year old sister Mia (may she live to 120). That winter they were
banished with many others from Czernowitz and forced across the Dniester
onto the killing fields of Poland. So close to Czernowitz but so far away on
the planet of annihalation. First to Zalischiki from where my grandmother
and other Jewish women were taken by the Germans, never to be seen again.
Then on to Melnica and finally to the ghetto of Borschev, some 60 km from
Cz. There they met my father to be Moshe (of blessed memory). This is his
description of how they met (I've edited it a bit).
The weather was freezing. I was ill with typhus and lay in a room in the
ghetto. People came to see me, including strangers whom I had never seen
before. Among them were many Hungarians and Romanians. One of them was a
curious and very good looking woman with a baby girl in her arms. She wore a
thin dress with a summer coat, shoes with no stockings. Her name was Rosa
and she was from Czernowitz.
Once Rosa brought me a big red apple. In the ghetto it was like a jewel. I
gave the apple to her little girl Mia. She was two and a half years old,
with hair the color of copper and eyes like two small cherries. We talked a
lot and they began coming to see me every day. When I had something, like a
piece of bread, I gave it to Mia. At first Rosa was too proud to accept
anything.
Winter became worse. The temperatures were very low and snow piled up. One
evening there was a knock at the door. It was a Jewish policeman and he had
Rosa and Mia with him. They had been evicted from their lodging because of
Mia's crying. people feared that the crying would attract unwanted
attention. We all agreed to take them in. They were frozen. We broke up some
chairs and lit a fire. We heated some water and gave Mia a bath. We found a
spot for them. As time went by Rosa and I fell in love.
Then Purim came and with it the Gestapo. The Germans always waited for
Jewish holidays to carry out an "akzia". They shot a few hundred Jews. We
fled and tried to hide on the outskirts of town. By nightfall it was over
and we returned through the fields under freezing rain and snow. The next
day the earth was frozen and they began to gather up the bodies.
It was Purim 1943.
(The above is an excerpt from my father's recollection of his childhood and
the Holocaust years as dictated to me about a year before he passed away).
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Received on 2010-11-01 15:00:46