In the springtime of 1916,
after Passover, when the fields dried up, the Malcher Jews took out the
gardening tools from the peasants’ abandoned homes and went to the field. Early in the morning the Austrian gendarmes searched
all the homes and chased all able-bodied people to go to work in the
field. The gendarmes warned the people
that there would be famine if they would not go to work. While people were working, if the gendarmes
while searching would find a horse in a stable, the owner would be
punished. It was remarkable that our
Jews, without proper preparation or experience, were able to plant potatoes,
sow barley, sow oats and cultivate all the gardens. It was very hard to plant potatoes because the winter was mild
and not having any experience in planting, the potatoes would rot in the soft
ground. However, when the potatoes were
planted in small cut-up pieces, they began to sprout and grow. After the holiday of Shavuoth, the command
authority issued an order that all the men between the ages of 15 and 50 should
report to the market place where all of them were registered. A few days later almost all of those who
were registered were sent to work
Near the highway, the village Holitz (about12
kilometers from Malch) was not burned down.
The peasants, however, ran away along with the Russians. The highway was badly damaged because of the
movement of the armies (first the Russian and, later on, the
German-Austrian). We worked there to
repair the highway that was full of potholes.
Our Austrian supervisors were not very strict with us. We went to our homes for Sabbath. We were paid two krones per day.
The majority of our men were sent to Kabaki, in
the courtyard, where a workplace for brick making was established. Bricks were produced there in order to
reinforce the fortifications at the frontline.
A new narrow railroad had to be constructed from the workplace through
the gentile fields up to Piestshanke at a distance of three kilometers. Here the men in charge of the project were
strict. The master of the railroad line
was a fuzzy haired German. The
commander was a senior Lieutenant (a Pole from Galicia) who was a very mean man. He spoke a good Yiddish and he swore in
Yiddish. We had to work there on Sabbath.
As soon as the railroad line was prepared for
installation, we received a shipment of finished rails. The railroad tracks were laid out from the
brick making workplace on a downhill slope.
At the midpoint, the configuration of the rails was on an uphill slope,
therefore we had to use a horse to help us pull the wagons up to the platform
and from there we loaded the bricks in the railroad wagons.
Every morning we were lined up with the working
tools on our shoulders, in alphabetical order and in a military style. My brother and I were among the first, since
we were registered as Apelboym. Then
came Alkon Pineh and so forth. On the
way back home, after work, we would walk in the same order. Oftentimes at dusk, after a hard day’s work,
the senior Lieutenant would order us to load the wagons with bricks. All the wagons had to be loaded.
We slept on wooden plank cots in the attic of
the big brick house where the bricks were produced. At 5:00 o’clock in the morning we could hear the scream, “arunter!”
(come down). At 6:00 0’clock we were
already standing in a proper order. We
worked until 12:00 p.m., then, officially, we had two hours for our midday
dinner. We never continued with our
work before 1:30 p.m. We ended our
day’s work at 7:00 p.m., provided there was no order to load the wagons.
There was an incident that brought about a
panic in our town. The Russians
launched a fierce offensive on the southern front, somewhere in Wolyn. The Russians advanced toward the German
occupied zone. On a certain day, the
Germans were in such disarray that their garrison was ordered to march
eastward. When the senior Lieutenant
was asked about the civilian population, his answer was, pointing at us, “The
people will temporarily remain here”.
It seemed that the situation was serious enough to bring about fear
among us. We already visualized the
peril of an approaching front, the trenches, Cossacks and chaos. Even more – what if the gentiles, who
abandoned their homes, would come back and
expel us from their occupied homes!
The Jews began to utilize their well-known weapon – to pray and to
recite “tilim” (the psalms) and the women ran to the cemetery and wept over the graves of their departed. The panic lasted several days until we were
assured by the commanding authority that the danger was over. Such an occurrence was not repeated anymore
until the end of the war.
Our fields with the spring sowing were quite
beautiful. It was pre-destined for us
to have more or less a year of yielding abundance. Our only concern was that we were unable to get bread. In this respect, our women did everything
they could. They went to the fields and
tore up the stalks of the re-grown and scattered kernels of corn to grind into
flour. At fall time, the authorities
gave us corn seeds for sowing in the fields.
It was not enough, however we sowed as much seeds as we had
available. Later on, we had another
problem – to prepare the pastures for the cows and horses. Near by there were overgrown meadows that
had to be cut with a scythe, but all able-bodied people were forced to work at
the brick making work place. It seemed
that the military staff had also issued an order that a certain amount of hay
had to be furnished to the front for the upcoming winter. Also, there were big fields of clover in
Malch, Yamnik and Kabaki.
On a certain evening, all of us were lined up
and the senior Lieutenant looked us over and asked if anyone of us would like
to cut grass. All of us volunteered for
that job. The Lieutenant also kept a
small group of workers at the brick-making place. The rest had already started to cut the tall and thick grass with
scythes that were distributed by the authorities under the supervision of an
Austrian. The work was not without
recompense. The authorities took two
thirds of the cut up grass and gave the workers one third. This enabled us to provide enough pasture
for our cows the forthcoming winter.
We had a difficult problem with obtaining
clothing. There was no fabric
available. Out of necessity, we had to
dye some of the gentile linen with a black coloring matter (since black will
dye over most other colors). Later on,
we started to deal with the military.
We bought topcoats and raincoats from them that we took apart, dyed the
material black and sewed them into civilian styles. We also bought boots from the military. Our young people, especially, were in charge of this business
since they worked at the railroad in Bluden and Lineve where there was a
constant military movement to the front line and back to our area.
The harvest from the fields was
satisfactory. We gathered the crops of
barley, little oats and buckwheat. We
dug out the potatoes and we were satisfied with our fate. We celebrated our holidays with joy and
satiety.
THE AUSTRIANS DEPARTED
AND, AGAIN, WE ARE UNDER THE GERMANS
On a certain day, after our holiday, Sukkoth,
our young workers were assembled in the opposite direction of the commanding
headquarters and a junior officer delivered a speech. He told us that the Austro-Hungarian detachment would depart from
our area and that it would be replaced by Germans. He brought to our attention that the previous occupiers were very
lenient with us and that the Germans would enforce a stricter discipline, that
we should be attentive, obey all orders, and help with their effort to continue
the war. He told that as long as we
obey their demands, no bad things would happen to us. Before he left, he greeted us in a friendly manner, thanked us
for being industrious in our past endeavors and undertakings. In the same week the Germans arrived in
Malch.
When the Germans arrived in Malch, there were
no particular changes. The community
leaders were the same as the previous ones – Yaakov as a “Starosta” (Senior Leader)
and the militiamen. They demanded that
the workers should work at the railroad, thus, many of them went to the
railroad booths to work as watchmen between Lineve and Bluden. Some workers from Pruzana, Bereze and Seltz
were already employed at the railroad station for about two years. We were paid 2 German marks and 20 pfennigs
per day. It cost us 1 mark and 20
pfennigs to purchase the different food products that were plenty for us.
The winter of 1916-1917 was extremely
cold. It started after our holiday
Sukkoth and lasted until after our holiday Purim. The thermometer in the commanding headquarters showed, with a few
exceptions, a constant temperature of minus 31 to 33 degrees every day. Many people died due to the severe cold
weather, bad nourishment (without fat) and lack of medical treatment.
The Germans levied a milk tax that had to be
paid with milk. All those who had a
milking cow had to deliver a certain quantity of milk. Every day a wagon with cans of milk was
delivered to the barracks in Bereze.
This was for the wounded and sick soldiers. Part of the milk was then taken by the commanding authorities for
themselves. Some of the workers were
ordered to make large square bundles of previously cut up hay and ship them to
the Piesczanke railroad station. From
there the hay was shipped to the front.
During that cold winter, on the frosty days,
the authorities ordered many people to be sent as forced laborers behind the
front.. Our militiamen informed us that
the Germans would go from house to house to search for people to take with
them. Just like magic, all young people
disappeared (except those who worked at the railroad). At nighttime, the people stayed in open
barns. The Germans did go from house to
house but they could not find anyone, except for one person - Itshe Zuk, who was sent to the front around
Pinsk. A great number of forced
laborers from Bereze, Koseve and other towns were gathered in the Berezer
synagogue that was located on the street leading to Malch. The commanding authority established a sort
of concentration camp for these workers.
They would remain there until they were transported to the front
lines. The synagogue was surrounded
with barbed wire and the Germans with rifles, wearing long white fur coats, watched
the assembled people. Later on we found
out that around Novojelnie and other places there were fresh heaps of soil
indicating they buried innocent young people.
Itshe Zuk came back to Malch from the war front around Passover. His place was taken by Shimon, Moishe
Yosel’s son, and he was also sent to the front. He, too, returned home as a healthy man.
In the springtime of 1917, we again worked in
the fields. There were no changes that
occurred in this respect. The Germans
took away all male calves for which they paid a negligible price. After our holiday, Shabuoth, a new order was
issued which required that whoever had a cow or a horse had to make a
contribution of hay. For a cow, 120
poods of hay, about 4300 lbs. (a Russian pood is approximately 36 lbs), for a
horse, 150 poods of hay and for both, 270 poods of hay. If the hay contribution was not provided,
the cows and horses would be confiscated.
The people, somehow, did make the required contribution.
In August of 1917, about 70 – 80 elderly
Germans arrived in the fields to cut the grass. They worked only in the morning.
After noontime they would work a few extra hours for 3 German marks with
good food. Thus, they helped us to
prepare the required quantity of hay.
The first person in alphabetical order that made the high contribution
of hay was my father, Apelboym. He did
provide the full amount of 270 poods of hay.
The German commandant was very pleased to see the first
contribution. He asked my father what
kind of a reward would he like to have.
My father answered that he would need wood from the nearest forest, from
Samorowke, in order to heat the house.
My father immediately received a permit to get a certain number of
wagons of wood, however he did not receive any money for the hay.
There were certain families whose breadwinners
were taken to the war. For those people
the contribution of hay was a difficult problem, since they had to depend on
somebody else’s help. Therefore, a
committee was established under the direction of Betzalel Wisoker and Hershel,
Aaron Dovid’s son, whose job was to provide the aforementioned needy people
with the required contribution. The
committee hired young people who eagerly cut the grass and, thus, solved that
problem. In this way we got used to
this situation, so that it appeared to be normal. We worked and made contributions to the Germans. After all, there was a war and we had no
other option. It should be noted that
in Malch the Germans, in general, conducted themselves correctly. In fact, there was a strict discipline, but
there was not any maliciousness against us.
It was safe to drive on the roads and there was order everywhere.
The revolutions in Russia and in Germany did
not bring about any changes. Kerenski’s
new Russian government did not end the war.
With the indirect help of the Reds (Communists), the Germans occupied
the Ukraine and cut through into White Russia.
We heard rumors about peace but, in reality, the news did not bring joy. On the contrary, it brought worry, fear of
disorder and chaos but no safety. Later
on this fear, in fact, became a reality.
Our
soldiers began to arrive in Malch from captivity in Germany, Austria and
Hungary. At the end of summer of 1918
almost all of them came back. A few of
those soldiers remained in Russia. The
following persons were killed at the front:
Moishe Sorotshik (Eliyahu the hunchback’s son), Kopel Friedman (Jacob’s
son), Moishe Gersh (Rachel-Leah, the seamstress’s son) who died in captivity in
Germany, Michael-Zalman Goldman who was killed at the front and Yeshieh-Moishe Rosachowski (Sara Hinda’s
son) caught a cold in the trenches and died later on. The former gentile inhabitants in Malch and the farmers from the
surrounding villages began to return from Russia. Also, the ”Pritzim” (the landowners) came back: Swide from Malch and Fele Staszewicz from
Kutnewicz who settled in the courtyard in Malch. An administrator arrived in
Kabaki to manage its courtyard.
The gentiles were glad that their houses were
occupied and their fields cultivated by the Jewish people. With regard to the dwellings, somehow we got
along with the new arrivals. As for the
cultivated fields, the Germans, according to the wage system, gave one third to
the farmers and two thirds to the laborers.
The same scale was applied to the landowners.
At the end of that summer a disease appeared
that was not known before. The name of
the disease was ”Shpanke” (probably a viral infection). Without any medical treatment, the “Shpanke”
did not avoid any home. Many people
died from this disease, particularly the farmers who returned from Russia who
suffered the most. It was said that the
returnees brought the disease with them from their “excursions”.
After
the German revolution that ended their monarchy, there were odd rumors that
floated through the town. One
thing became clear – the Germans had established
a government in Ukraine and had crowned a ruler whose reign was to also extend
to our zone.
Two weeks after the holiday Sukkoth, on a
Sunday, a man arrived in Malch and called together a meeting at Moishe
Aleksandrowski’s house. He made a speech
in Ukrainian and proclaimed that we belonged to Ukraine. Afterwards, he recruited militiamen among
the returnees from captivity: Shmuel Rosenblum (Yaakov-Asher’s son-in-law),
Moshe-Aaron (Nachum the Redhead’s son), Hirshel Miskun from Chwoinik and a farmer
from Kabaki. The militiamen received
new rifles from the county’s administrative office of the new Ukrainian
government that was in Pruzana. They
had to get their orders as well as their pay from the same office.
After the fall of the German monarchy, the
German military units were in a state of total breakdown. They ran away from Ukraine without
weapons. In Poland, they were disarmed
by Pilsudski’s legionnaires. The Baltic
nations began to establish their own independent countries with armies and
blocked the organized retreat of the German military units through East
Prussia. In general, the German
garrisons left the smaller places and began to group themselves in the larger
cities in order to concentrate near the communication routes. They left Malch from all secluded places and
they concentrated in Bereze and Lineve (at the railroad station Oranczyce).
Our entire zone was in a state of anarchy that
brought about fear in our town. We
heard about robberies and murder. In
Wiluski, a courtyard around Antopolia, the entire landowner’s family was killed
by the farmers. We started to organize
in order to defend ourselves in the event of an attack. The Germans sold weapons and ammunition to
us. Our people were chatting that
Pruzana’s 1500 young men were armed with weapons. We only obtained a few rifles and a trumpet! We worked out a plan to defend ourselves
against an attack: if some suspicious
persons would be noticed in the nighttime, we would sound the trumpet to alarm
the people. Then the women and children
would leave their homes and raise a cry.
At the same time, those who had weapons would start shooting wherever
they would be present. This was
supposed to be a “strategic maneuver” to scare away the attackers. With this plan, fortunately, we did not make
any mistake.
The 8th day of Hanukkah in 1918 was
on a Sunday. On that quiet evening
because it was cloudy and dark outside, it was very suitable for robbers. At that time a column of farmers in military
formation, carrying rifles on their shoulders, entered our town through Zaluzer
Street. It was not known how many of
them marched in. It was estimated that
there were about 200 – the number was possibly exaggerated. Their plan probably was to rob the town of
all the reserve of food. They came in
quietly and carefully. At Chaim
Goldstein’s house they met my grandfather, Moishe, may he rest in peace. The old man did not become flustered. He only began to scream and admonish them
with these words, “Ach we razboiniki” (you robbers). They did not touch him, they only said, “Go into the house, you
old man”. The armed men were noticed by
the townspeople. Yosel Krawczyk, who
had the trumpet, did not lose any time
and alarmed the people to warn them of impending danger. The women and children left their homes and
began to scream loudly in the almost empty town.
The plan of the attackers was, first of all, to
disarm or, rather, to kill the several Jewish militiamen who stayed at Moishe
Aleksandrowski’s house where Shalom Sacharov resided. However, they were mistaken because the militiamen, along with
several of us who bore arms, were at that time at Yankel Asher’s house at the
opposite side of Aleksandrowski’s house.
In the middle stood Leibe’s large white brick house. The first robber who entered
Aleksandrowski’s house with an outstretched rifle met Shalom Sacharov, a
strong, healthy Jew who grabbed the attacker’s rifle. His wife, Elke, became frightened, ran toward them and stood on
the opposite side of the barrel of the rifle.
Intentionally or accidentally, the rifle discharged and the bullet hit
the unfortunate woman in the stomach.
Our defenders, hearing from where the shot rang out, started shooting in
that direction. The attackers, hearing
the volley of bullets of the defenders, got scared and left the town.
Because of the fear that the attackers could
come back again, our defenders dispatched a rider, Shmuel (Leibke’s son), to
Piesczanke at the train station, 8 kilometers from Malch, in order to telephone
the German authority in Bereze to tell them about the above-mentioned incident
and to ask them for help. In the middle
of the night a detachment of 50 Germans armed with weapons arrived in Malch. However, the band of robbers did not return. After waiting a few hours, the Germans also
left. The gravely injured Elke (Shalom
Sachavor’s wife) was taken care of by Leibel Pomeranietz, Chaya’s son, who was
a medic in the Russian army and came back home from German captivity, however
Elke suffered until daybreak and then passed away. The next day, Monday, was her funeral in which this entire town
participated. Since that incident, it
became necessary to organize patrol groups to guard our town. Thus, Malch was protected day and night.
The
Germans, after their negotiations with Poland and with the Baltic countries,
received permission for the remaining detachments of their army to return to
Germany. Shortly before the holiday
Purim in 1919, the last train with the Germans left Lineve’s railroad
station. Before their departure, the
Germans blew up the ammunition warehouses.
The explosions, afterwards, lasted for several days. During the explosion of the ammunition
warehouses in Lineve, a detachment of riders arrived in Malch from
Pruzana. The riders wore German,
Russian and Austrian uniforms.
Declaring themselves as Polish legionnaires, they showed off their
insignias of white eagles on their caps – the only sign of their adherence to
Poland. Among them there also were some
who spoke Yiddish. They ordered us to
harness the horses and wagons and drive to Lineve in order to load up the
leftover weapons. When we arrived in
Lineve (Oranczyce), Polish people there declared that the ammunition was
already taken away and told us to drive back to our homes.
On the
same night, there was another scary incident.
A group of armed men arrived from Bereze and declared that they were
Bolsheviks. They did not do anything,
they only went to the “courtyard” and robbed the landowner, Swide, and left
afterwards. This incident brought about
a new panic in our town because we found ourselves between two fires – the
Bolsheviks in Bereze and the Poles in Pruzana.
In the
morning, again, several Polish riders came to Malch. They were informed what happened and they left in the
evening. The same story was repeated
the next night. The Berezer Bolsheviks
arrived in Malch and displayed the same heroism from the previous night – they
robbed Swide, the landowner, and departed.
This time, they took two wagons to haul the stolen things. The wagons belonged to Aaron-Ytzhak,
Yekutiel’s son, and Yudel, Getzel’s son.
The next
morning, Thursday, the Poles came back again.
They proceeded on the road leading to Bereze in order to intercept the
wagons with the stolen goods. The two
above mentioned Jews were brought into Moishe Aleksandrowski’s house and they
were punished, according to the Polish custom with 25 lashes each. Afterwards, the Poles caught a calf, made a
good meal and rode back.
This
uncertain situation, fortunately, did not last long. The same Saturday, in the morning, a large detachment of
legionnaires marched into Bereze unexpectedly, ambushed all nests of the
Bolsheviks and easily defeated them.
Thus, they became the rulers of the entire zone. In our town, a new commanding authority
arrived and settled in Baruch’s big house.
Order was then established.
In that
springtime of 1919, under the Polish rule, we were confronted with a terrible
event. An epidemic of smallpox and
typhus was rampant and it swallowed many young and strong lives.
With the
establishment of the new Polish order, and after an interruption that lasted
four years, a door was opened up to the wide world. Correspondences as well as material help from individuals and
organizations began to arrive from the U.S.A. and good prospects emerged with
regard to the future emigration overseas.
In the
springtime of 1920, the Russians launched an offensive and chased the Poles to
the West. They reached our town in
August. Because of our fear for the
retreated Poles, we hid our horses in nearby Yamnik. We were unable to hide the cows.
The Poles went to the stables and took them away when they
retreated. There was not a single cow
left in our town.
It is
worthwhile to describe the following episode:- In the middle of the night,
several Polish riders rode through Malch.
They spoke a good Russian and were accompanied by two gentiles, one from
Worozbieti and the other one from Likomir.
They walked into Feigel Jacob’s house, identified themselves as
Bolsheviks, and asked about the route to the highway. Feigel, not a foolish woman, said that she did not know how to
get there. They proceeded toward
Aneliner Street and walked into Yekutiel, the fisherman’s house. The old Yekutiel (the young ones were in
Yamnik) put on his Tallith (prayer shawl) and recited the credo, “Shma Yisroel” (“Hear, O Israel, the Lord in
One”). He pointed to his neck and said,
“Cut my throat”. The intruders did not touch
him. They only asked him where they
could find a young man to lead them to the highway. Yekutiel pointed the way to Omelian’s house, a gentile who had
returned a short time ago from Russia and vaunted that soon the Bolsheviks
would arrive and would take away the horses and cows from the Jews They knocked on Amelian’s door and spoke to
him in Russian. Amelian, seeing who
they were, crossed himself for great joy and thanked God that he lived to see
the Bolsheviks in Malch. When he
dressed himself and was ready to go, it was early in the morning. Then he realized that he made a
mistake. He noticed the white eagle on
the their caps, but it was already too late.
The above-mentioned Likomirer farmer was able to hide himself in a
garden of beans and stayed alive. The
Worozbieter farmer was shot at when he tried to run away. He suffered until midday and then died. Amelian was taken to the highway and
was shot to death near Zaprud. The next morning, the intruders returned to
Malch and personally informed Amelian’s family about the “news”.
When the
mass of the Polish army retreated, they set out to search all the Jewish homes,
however they did not find anything. The
Poles did not dig any trenches around Malch.
The shootings lasted almost a whole day. The Bolsheviks, who were already in Samorowka, fired their
artillery guns. At that time, Zaluza
was already captured by the Bolsheviks.
Under the cover of darkness, the Poles were able to escape. This changeover in power went through peacefully without any
casualties and without fires.
At this
time, the Bolsheviks did not yet establish their domain in our area and finally
they left our town. After the “miracle
at the Vistula” (the largest river in Poland), the Russian army was cut
off. Two days after Yom Kippur of 1920,
after intense machine gun shootings in Malch and in other places, the entire
area was again under the Polish rule.
Again, we had a fearful night, but
this time, luckily, the changeover of the regime went through without
any casualties and without fires.
After
the peace treaty in Riga (Latvia), the Poles declared our zone as part of
Poland. The entire area that was
inhabited by White Russians and Ukrainians was called “East Kresen”. Order was established in the newly emerged
independent Polish country. Our Jewish
life also gradually started to normalize.
The town began to heal its wounds and to rebuild itself. A new chapter began to emerge in our
life. My time in Malch ended shortly
thereafter.
Our
family immigrated to Argentina in 1922.