KARTUZ-BEREZA 1993 YZKOR
I SURVIVED
By Masha Eliashiv (Shtucker)
I will remember the year 1942 as the year I had the most
horror in my life. From then on and until today, I can still hear the sounds of
my pretty daughter's cry. She was pulled
out of my arms. She was then only two and half years old. My second daughter
was only one and half years old. Great was my suffering. I listened as my
smallest one screamed: "mommy, mommy". I could not help her because I
was thrown to the floor by strong blows that I received from the policeman
because I defended my daughters. That year, 1942, I was taken together with my
husband’s family to the Ozetol Ghetto. It was a small town 23 kilometers from
where we lived in Ravida Vabusrka. The Ghetto was very small. In total they
were two narrow back streets.
After a lot of effort we found a small room that we shared
with seven people. The hardship was terrible. During the day we were bitten by
flies and during the night by mosquitoes. The hardship, the flies and the
mosquitoes meant nothing compared with the fear that reigned among us. We had
no food. After a lot of effort, my husband got work in a Polish peasant’s place
and he was able in this way to secretly bring us some food sometimes.
My husband had been born in the area and he knew it very
well. We began to think of a way of escaping to the forest, but my
father-in-law (blessed his name) was an elderly man with many problems. My two daughters were also a problem. One
morning after I woke up (I doesn't remember the exact date) as we thought of
our future sufferings, I heard cries and screams. I looked out of the window
and I saw Germans and Jews running in all directions.
I quickly put on a coat, took my two daughters and ran to
the basement of the house where there was a shelter. We stayed there for two
days and two nights. My husband was outside of the ghetto. When I left the
shelter, I realized that I was alone with my two daughters. I didn't know where
to go. I remembered that besides the Ghetto lived a Christian family whom my
husband often spoke to me about. I knocked on their door. The woman answered
and she said she was sorry but she could not help me. She sent me to a house on
the other side of the street. I did not have any other alternative so I went
there. The Gentile that answered the door told me that behind the house there
was a cabin full with hay and I could hide there. I went there but I found it
closed with a key. What to do? Beside the cabin I saw a stack of small logs.
Somehow, I was able to make a place for myself under them. I went to bed
thinking that it would be my end and, in this way, I fell asleep. Suddenly I
heard somebody shouting in German "Are there Jews here"? The Gentile answered: "No Mister, there
are not". I heard steps coming closer to the place where I was sleeping
and, through the cracks, I saw a German dressed with his blue uniform entering
to the cabin with a scythe in his hand. After some minutes, he left. It seemed
that he looked for us in the hay. I stayed in the hiding place until the night.
The owner came and I told him that I had not entered the cabin since it was
locked with a key. He opened it for me and said that two other Jewish women
would arrive. They came, but they only remained a short time because they
wanted to go to a more secure place. I was alone and I didn't know that to do.
Suddenly, on a sunny day, a peasant that lived near us in Broda Vaborska, who
knew about my history, entered the cabin and told me: "Mrs. Eliashiv,
today I will take you out of here". I didn't know that he had reached an
agreement with the owner of the place.
That afternoon the owner of the place gave me a dress and a
long kerchief that belonged to his wife to cover my head. He ordered me to get
dressed with it. Then he gave me a pail and he told me that I should follow him
because we had to go by a place that was watched over by Germans. We should
look like we were going to milk cows. He showed me the road. Near the main road
there was still a field sowed with wheat that had not been harvested. I should
hide in the field and when another peasant passed by with his cart, I should
follow it.
I said goodbye to the house owner and set out to go to the
field near the road. Suddenly, a Gentile shouted at me; " Hi Jew! Where
are you going? They will kill you anyway". It was harvest time and men
worked in the fields. I began to walk, the terrible fear brought perspiration
to my face and my legs trembled, but I continued walking until I reached the
wheat field. My heart was beating so
fast that it could explode. Finally the cart came and I followed it. It was
necessary to walk another kilometer until I reached the forest. The road was
full with people. It seems that it was my destiny to live. Then luck smiled on
me and I found my husband and my father-in-law. My husband knew the area and
the forests and he helped me to face all difficulties. Thanks to their concern
we could also survive this. In 1945, when the war ended, I felt no happiness.
On the contrary, I could not accept that I was still alive and all my dear
people were not. I will remember them always and tell about them. Their names
will be with me until the last minute of my life and I will never forget
them.
Be blessed their memory!!