MEMOIRS
OF SHERESHEV
By MOISHE KANTOROWITZ
There were two roads
leading from Shershev to the provincial town of
That summer, on a Monday
morning, which was a market day, the police closed up all the streets leading
into town, ordering the farmers to unhitch their
horses on that meadow. By doing so, it
discouraged the farmers from going into town to get their supplies and, as a
result, depriving the Jewish store keepers and petty dealers of their
livelihood. They succeeded to a
degree. I say to a degree, for they had
neglected to realize that the farmers depended on the Jews as much as the Jews
depended on the farmers. As almost all
the tradesmen in the Shtetls of Eastern Europe were
Jews, the farmers depended on the Jewish artisans and craftsmen. The most primitive farmer needed a blacksmith
to repair his wagon, shoe his horse, a shoe maker, a tailor, a seamstress, a
carpenter, a mason, and a wagon wheel maker.
Not to mention more sophisticated trades. But most of all were the Jews needed to buy
up the farmer’s surplus produce. Were
not for the Jews in the small and large towns, the farmer would not have a
buyer for his produce. Thus they would
not have the few zloty to buy the needed commodities. I believe that there could have been a quiet
and even a harmonious co- existence between the Jewish and non Jewish
population were it not for the outside or government interference and church
contribution. The farmers left their horses outside the town and carried their
produce on their backs into the shtetl. Being as happy with the new
decree as the Jews.
A proposition was brought
before the Polish parliament to prohibit the Kosher
ritual slaughter of animals. The
instigator was a certain Madame Pristor. She moved heaven and earth to get the decree
passed. Jews appealed, protested,
written petitions, tried to explain and justify the practice on religious
grounds. Unfortunately, the ingrained
anti-Semitism in the parliament was stronger than the economical common sense,
the sense of tolerance, justice or respect for other faiths. The justification of cruelty to animals was a
joke, for we could all see how every farmer used to slaughter his pig or
pigs. It could turn sick even the
strongest stomach. They loved to drink
the fresh warm blood
of the pig, so they drained it of blood while still alive. Then try to chop off his head with an ax
while he was twisting and wriggling missing several times. Nor would the head come off with one or two
strikes. That however, was considered
humane.
Eventually the parliament
compromised to a degree, by allowing a certain amount of cattle to be
slaughtered according to Jewish religious law, but the total was minimal. After coming to this agreement the government
let it be known that the total meant animal on the hoof. Knowing well that Jews are
not permitted to eat the hind part of the animal. That cut in half the amount of meat already
agreed on at the negotiations.
During the centuries of
persecution Jews have learned to improvise. There is a law that permits to eat
the hind of the animal if every piece of vein is plucked out. The problem is that after such a cleaning the
meat is so shredded that it is suitable for hamburgers only. The only benefactors of that law were the
Polish inspectors that used to visit the Jewish butcher shops very frequently
to make sure that the butchers are not selling unlicensed meat. The inspectors however, were not immune to
bribes. Knowing the severity of the fine for selling unlicensed meat they used
to extract every grosz (penny) from the already impoverished butchers.
The non-Jewish local
population was of two opinions. They resented the Polish patriotic anti-Semitic
propaganda, still its anti-Semitic contents in it appealed to them. A small part of the population hated anything
Polish, even their anti-Semitic propaganda. Sympathizing with
the
I do not want to go into
the details of what the Jewish students and graduates of universities had to go
through. I do want to tell a story of
one Jewish university graduate from Shershev that I
knew personally. There lived, for my
time, on
With his
marks he was accepted in the Polish gymnasium in Pruzany. His father could not afford to keep him
there nor to pay the tuition. So David began to give private lessons after
school and with those meager earnings he put himself through gymnasium
graduating with the highest marks in school.
With those marks he was immediately accepted to the faculty of law at
The Warsaw University where he graduated just before the persecution of Jews
started in mid thirties. He did his
“internship” in
It happened that my
father was in
Despite the difficulties
life went on. A couple young men had
succeeded to leave for the
There was in Shershev a Yehudah WEINER, who
had three sons in the
As the “Ashomer” (Left Zionist) ceased to exist
a couple of years earlier, we began to feel a lack of enthusiasm among Betar members too.
The realization that a member of Betar had no
chance to get a permit to go to Palestine, the shortage of inspiring leadership
and with the older members assuming responsibility for older parents, others
being called up for military duty and still others thinking about their own
future and marriage. The teenagers
lacked the experience needed for leadership, led to the eventual closing of the
Betar local. I
and my friend Kalman KALBKOIF assumed the official
leadership. A
leadership without a following.
It was a loose membership without a local for getting together for
meetings. All we did was to keep contact
with the head command in
That summer we made a
half hearted attempt to build our boat, but our earlier enthusiasm was
missing. The hours we spent working were
more mechanical than creative. Deep in
his heart, each of us felt that we are laboring in vain, but nobody wanted to
be the first to say it aloud. It came to
an end when the school year started. Leizer ROTENBERG, our driving force went back to Brest-Litowsk and we went back to school. Through the summer, our store more than any
other, served as a gathering place for store keepers that could leave their
store under somebody else’s attendance, or even close it completely for a while,
knowing that they won’t miss out much by locking the store. For them a customer was a scarcity and a sale
even more so. So instead of spending
long hours in the tiny sweltering little four by four store
waiting for a customer that won’t show up, they used to close it and come over
to us knowing that they will always find someone and exchange news, local and
worldly.
Besides those I mentioned
above, there were a few young men who did not do a thing but sit and wait for a
girl with a large dowry. These few, I
would call simply idlers or loafers. Not
having what to do, they used to come in and spend the time with their
peers. One could hear true news, and
half-truths, assumptions and wishful-thinking.
Anything one wanted or did not want to hear. After every lengthy discussion one would turn
to my father and ask? “Nu, what do you say YITZIK (Isaak)?” One would think
that my father had a direct line to every government leader. Coming home, my father used to repeat and
share with my mother some of the conversations he heard during the day. Some were sensible, some naďve, some crazy.
It was no secret to all
that
My father being born in
1892 was drafted into the Czar’s army in 1913, spending a year in
A few weeks after being
in the front lines, my father and three more soldiers were sent on a
reconnaissance mission behind the Austrian lines. They succeeded to cross behind the enemy
lines. However, on the next night they
were unable to get back to their line.
They were forced to remain behind the enemy lines 4-5 days with no food,
hiding out in forests and swamps, until they made their way back. Their company was hidden in a forest. As soon as they arrived the company commander
ordered the company to fall-in and began to inspect their riffles. Understandable, after hiding out for a few
days in holes and swamps, their rifles were dirty. They were ordered to step forward, their rifles
were inspected again and the inspecting officers gave my father a slap in front
of the entire company. This act was
considered an insult to the soldier. But
the officer dared to do it knowing that for slapping a Jew even in uniform, he
won’t be prosecuted. My father added
that he could hear some soldiers behind him were grinding their teeth and under
their breath whispering “ubyiey yevo.”(kill him) He did not
dare even to raise a hand knowing that for such an act he would pay with his
life in war.
It is much known in western Europe and the western hemisphere about the senseless slaughter that took place on the western front during the first world war, but little or not enough of the millions senselessly destroyed on the eastern front, especially on the Russian side. Here is an episode which my father was a participant and told it to me personally. Not long after the event with the reconnaissance incident, his regiment found itself near some village where they dug in. Even though the Austrians were moving back they left behind a strong rear-guard which his regiment was trying to take. They used to run towards the Austrian position with bayonets at ready and shouts of “hurrah.” The Austrians used to mow them down with machine guns. After every attack his regiment was driven back to their trenches. As the Russian trenches were within the perimeter of the village, the Austrians set the village ablaze exposing in darkness of the night the entire Russian position. It did not take long for the Austrian range finders to find the Russian trenches. They unleashed an artillery barrage whose every shell hit the trench. There was no more thoughts of an attack. Everybody, officers, soldiers tried to save his own life. The shells were exploding right in the trenches where the pile of bodies kept on rising. Some soldiers used to try and run back, but were cut down by the Austrian machine guns. Others yelled loud and clear “Poddaymossa” (lets surrender) Despite the presence of the officers, some tried to do it despite the incoming fire which made the attempt hopeless.
The pile of twisted, torn bodies kept on growing. Suddenly my father felt a tug at his coat. He turned to see a soldier that was crouching near him pointing to an officer. It was the same one that slapped my father a couple of weeks earlier. The soldier yelled above the sound of exploding shells; now it is your chance to get even with him. Under the constant cannonade of exploding shells and staccato of machine guns, when every still living soldier tried to find a hole among the twisted torn bodies of his comrades, nobody would have heard if my father would have pulled the trigger and fired.
The Austrians did the job
for him. Less than half an hour later a shell fell close by. When the smoke cleared the first thing my
father noticed was an officer’s cap.
Nearby over fresh bodies lie the body of that
officer with half his head torn away.
Unable to surrender or go to the back, for to stick out his head one
would have his head shot off, every one tried to dig his way deeper among the
corpses. So did my father. At dawn, my father dug his way out from among
the corpses and began to run towards the rear. In his favor was the fact that
he ran eastwards toward the rising sun, which made it difficult for the
Austrians to take aim. Running, he could
see bullets kicking up the ground to his right and left. The ground was full with Russian dead and
wounded. Some that were still able to
utter a word used to beg him “dobeyey menya” (finish me off.)
They knew that there was no chance of getting any help. All they wanted was for someone to take them
out of their misery.
When he finally got out
of the range of the machine guns, he began to ask for the command of his
regiment, which was a couple kilometers farther. He found it.
In a few minutes, a colonel the commanding officer of his regiment, a
middle aged man with a noticeable stomach gave an order to fall in. It was applicable to those that managed to
come back from the front. They took
count, including my father, there were sixteen men. The sixteen men watched in
astonishment as their old commander broke down and cried. Those few soldiers were attached to another
company and a month or so later, under a similar artillery barrage, s shell
tore off two fingers of my father’s right hand.
The index and the middle finger. It was still late 1914, and my father was
taken all the way to a hospital in
My mother was a gifted
storyteller. That is a family AUERBACH
trait, and her stories were spellbinding.
I won’t even attempt to imitate it.
I will only try to tell a couple dry facts that remained in my memory of
her youth. My grandfather Laizer-BEAR and grandmother Freida-LEAH
brought six children into this world. Five boys and one girl.
Two of the boys died in infancy, the other three grew up to be well and
healthy men. The
oldest Shloime (Solomon), the second Pesach (Philip)
and the third Lipah. Her brother, my uncle Lipah,
was a volunteer
fireman. Once during a fire my Uncle Lipah found himself in a burning house while the ceiling,
on which some other volunteer have just pulled up a barrel full of water,
collapsed on him. After coming to, he
seemed to be in good health. A couple years later,
he left for the states, where he shortly afterwards, married Becky and brought
into this world, their only child Irving.
Unfortunately, my uncle Lipah died in the
states a very young man. The
circumstances of his death are unknown to me.
But I remember my mother always blaming the incident during that fire
for his untimely death.
My uncle Pesach (Philip) left Shershev sometime around the turn of the century to avoid the conscription into the Czarist army. My grandparents remained in Shershev with the two children, the oldest my uncle Shloime (Salomon), and the youngest, my mother - Esther-BEILAH. In the beginning of this 20th century my uncle Shloime married a local girl, Esther-Libah WINOGRAD and started to raise a family of his own.
There was nothing more
precious to my grandmother Freida-LEAH than her only
daughter, my mother, nor was anything too good for her. As my mother used to tell:
The only tin bath tub in shtetl was in their house
and nobody was allowed to use it except my mother. The same bath tub became ours after my
grandparents passed away. In such
conditions was my mother raised, up until the first world war
broke out. Even then life in Shershev went on almost
as before. People knew that a war was
going on but what the situation is or where the front is, nobody knew. Here is a good example; My uncle Shloime
(Solomon) had hired two young men to
split wood in his wood shed for the winter.
As they were working the first artillery shell fell on Shershev. The
explosion scared the two young men so much that they threw away the axes and
the pieces of wood and ran away. It just
happened that in that shed stood a samovar.
One piece of the wood they threw hit the samovar and made a dent in
it. This story was told to me by my
mother in the mid thirties. Among many
stories about the first world war. I did not pay much attention to it for there
were more stories and much more interesting.
The years went by and I survived the second world war,
refugee camps and came to
This takes us back to
1915. It seems that the Germans did not
need much to drive the Czarist army out of Shershev,
for the next day the Germans arrived.
The retreating Czarist army broke into Jewish stores and homes helping themselves
to anything portable. The Jewish
population could not decide what to do.
Should they go east with the retreating Russian army or stay and be
after all under the westernized and civilized Germans. They stayed.
The Germans did introduce new laws and practices. Like
opening a window for fresh air in winter. For Jews the most embarrassing
thing was the stopping bearded men and looking for lice. If
found, they used to cut the beard off right in the middle of the street. Most men wore beards. To be seen in the
street without a freshly cut beard was very embarrassing. There were other laws. Like being sent away from
home to work for little pay. Constant food shortages and outright hunger. My grandfather, Laizer-BEAR,
being over fifty, was exempt from being sent away. Never the less, he had a wife and a daughter
(my mother) to support, so he volunteeringly went to
work in
In 1920 my parents got
married. Our part of the world was still
in a tumult. The two main antagonists in
central and eastern
It was on such a day in
late afternoon that my parents, just recently wed were going from my mother’s
parents to my fathers. They were going
via back alleys, as the main street was full with retreating Soviet soldiers,
who were running back after their defeat near
In that year 1920, the
western provinces of