by Yitzhak Arad
In the period 14/10–18/10/43, the squadron took part in the operation against the Jews at the SS Sonderkommando Sobibor (40 km northeast of Chelm). From the number of 300 Jews who escaped, about 100 were liquidated in cooperation with the army and Border Police 15
A few more of the escaping prisoners were caught during October 19–21.16
In view of the large German forces that were involved in the combing operations, which were even supported by airplanes, the search could not have been considered a success. Only one-third of the fleeing prisoners were caught. The rest escaped.
42
Survival among the Local Population
The Jewish prisoners who escaped during the uprisings in Treblinka and Sobibor and were not caught in the first days of intensive searches faced the very serious problem of how to survive for a prolonged period in an area occupied by the Germans. Their success depended to a large extent on the attitude of the local population—first in the vicinity of the camps and later in the more distant areas of the General Government.
The local population in the areas around Treblinka and Sobibor was predominantly Polish, although there were some Ukrainian and Belorussian villages, mainly to the east of these camps. The escaping prisoners needed help to obtain food and to secure information about the surroundings, the whereabouts and activities of the local police and German security forces, and the safest direction to follow. They needed temporary shelter and places for more prolonged hiding. And the cooperation of the local population was important for Jews wishing to make contact with the partisans.
The escapees’ fate was in the hands of peasants they happened upon while escaping through the fields, in the forests, or when they passed their houses. The peasants had the power to decide whether or not to turn the escapees over to the Germans, to use violence to capture and hand them over to the Germans, or to kill them by themselves. To encourage the aid of the local population, the Germans informed the peasants through the heads of the villages that anyone helping Jews would be harshly punished, and might even suffer the death penalty; and, on the other hand, they announced that anyone who captured and turned over a Jew or volunteered information as to the whereabouts of a Jew would get a special reward that included vodka and sugar.1
However, the attitude of the local population toward escaping prisoners was not only a function of the reward or punishment that they might receive from the Germans, but was a result of the general prejudice against Jews. Anti-Semitism had deep roots in Poland, and the hatred toward the Jew was merely intensified by Nazi propaganda.
The general attitude and prevailing feelings toward the Jews among large segments of the Polish population at that time may be gleaned from the Polish Underground newspaper Narod (“People”), a publication of Unia (“Unity”), a politically centrist, liberal, intellectual group, represented in the Polish Government-in-Exile, in London. On August 15, 1942, in the midst of the expulsion of the Jews from Warsaw to Treblinka, this Underground publication printed a long article under the headline “The Slaughter of the Jews.” The article was a critical survey of the relationship of the Polish Jews to Poland and the Poles. The Jews were blamed for their ingratitude of Poland’s hospitality to them for many generations. They were described as a nation that regarded itself as a “Chosen People” similar to Nazi Germany. The Jews were accused of infiltrating Polish society in the period between the two world wars and defiling it by “Judaization.” Furthermore, they were unfaithful to Poland when the Soviet Union attacked in September 1939. In general, the Jews were charged with hating Poland. In the last part of the article, it stated:
If this will continue, within a short period, Warsaw will say good-bye to the last Jew. If it would be possible to conduct a funeral, the reaction would be interesting. Would sorrow or tears accompany the coffins, or perhaps joy? . . . The northern quarter [the part of Warsaw where the Jews lived] was inhabited for hundreds of years by hostile strangers. Hostile and strange both to our interests and mentality and hearts. Let us not show false feelings, unlike at funerals [where there are] professional mourners, let us be earnest and honest. . . . For the individual Jew human being, we feel sorry, and, if possible, let’s extend help to the stray or hiding. . . . But let us not strive for an artificial sorrow for the dying nation that was not close to our hearts. In face of the execution of the verdict of history, let us be serious and honest.2
From this article it most definitely could be understood by the simple Pole that getting rid of a disloyal and hostile element is for the good of Poland. As this message was not published by an anti-Semitic party but by an intellectual liberal group, its view may definitely be seen as an expression of the true feelings toward the Jews by large segments of the Polish people. In this atmosphere, the escaping Jews could not expect widespread aid from the local population.
As mentioned previously, sections of the population in the areas around the death camps had grown rich as a result of the Jewish tragedy. The Ukrainian guards, who had taken large amounts of money and valuables from the victims, spent equally large amounts on vodka and girls in the nearby villages (see chapter 21). This newfound prosperity was an additional factor that encouraged the local people to cooperate with the German security forces. Even in areas distant from the camps, large sections of the local population had received—or taken over—houses, businesses, and property that had formerly belonged to Jews and which the Jews had had to leave behind when they were deported to the ghettos and death camps. Some of these local people were afraid that if the Jews survived, all this property would have to be returned to its rightful owners. In short, those who had escaped from the death camps were likely to be greeted with hostility when they sought sanctuary.
The rumors that the escapees carried large quantities of gold and money also did not work in their favor. There were peasants who were tempted to murder the escapees and rob them of their money. Unfortunately, there are no testimonies left from those Jews who were turned over to the Germans by the peasants, or who were murdered by them—they had no way of immortalizing their stories. However, in the testimonies of survivors, who for the most part remained alive thanks to the help they received from the local population, there are details and descriptions of the hostile attitude of part of the local people.
Tovia Blatt describes what happened to him and to two other escapees from Sobibor—Kostman and Wycen—in their attempt to find sanctuary among the local population. Blatt led his friends from Sobibor to his home town of Izbica, where he had hoped to find a hiding place for the three of them with Polish friends of his family. However, when they finally reached the place, their request was denied with the excuse—justified to some extent—that the Poles were afraid. After wandering some more in the area of Izbica, they found a hiding place in the home of a farmer named Bojarski. In return for a substantial payment in gold and valuables that the escapees had taken with them from Sobibor, Bojarski set up a hiding place in the barn. At first Bojarski treated them well, but then he began cutting back on the food that he gave them until they were down to starvation rations; on the other hand, he kept demanding more and more money. The situation became so bad that they finally decided to leave the hiding place and try to find the partisans, but Bojarski was against their leaving, claiming that if they were caught they would reveal his name and the Germans would take revenge on him and his family. Using various excuses, he removed part of their clothing, and they were in fact kept as prisoners. After about five and a half months in hiding and various unpleasant incidents, Bojarski decided to get rid of them.
On the night of April 23, 1944, Bojarski and another two armed men appeared at the opening of the hiding place, shined a flashlight inside, and shot the three prisoners. After they saw that they were all bleeding, and thinking that they were dead, they took the money and valuables and left the place. Kostman had been killed by the shots, but Blatt and Wycen were only injured and had merely pretended to be dead. After they saw that Bojarski and the other men had g
one into a neighboring house, Blatt and Wycen ran away. Blatt lived to see the liberation. Wycen, however, did not make it.3
There were other cases of escaping prisoners trying to find refuge in the areas of their former residences, using their knowledge of the places and people. Shlomo Alster, who had lived in Chelm before his deportation to Sobibor, described what happened to him after his escape:
I reached Chelm, and there I met two other escapees from Sobibor, Pawroznik and Lerer. We found shelter in a cellar. . . . Lerer had a lot of money, dollars, and gold with him. . . . Pawroznik had an aquaintance in the market and he bought food for us. . . . Thus we survived for nine months Nobody would have imagined that three Jews were sitting in the center of Chelm at a time when no more Jews lived in the entire region. . . . Afterward I and Pawroznik wandered in the countryside and found a hiding place in the cornfields until the summer of 1944, when we were liberated by the Soviet army.4
Some escapees succeeded in reaching Warsaw or other large towns, where they acquired Aryan identity cards and “melted” into the local population. Wiernik reached Warsaw after his escape from Treblinka and survived there with the help of the “Jewish National Committee,” which was an Underground organization operating there. Hanel Salomea, a girl with an Aryan appearance who had escaped from Sobibor, reached Cracow and found refuge as a Christian in the house of the “League of Catholic Women,” where they did not even suspect that she was Jewish.5
Two Czechoslovakian Jews who escaped from Treblinka (Richard Glazer and Karl Unger) succeeded in reaching Czechoslovakia, acquiring Aryan papers there, and using them to be sent to work in Germany as foreign workers.
However, there were those among the escapees who did not dare return to the places where they had lived or who knew from the start that they could expect no help there. They wandered through the forests and villages in the hope that perhaps in this way they would survive until the liberation. Abraham Goldfarb, who was among the escapees from Treblinka, relates:
We walked in the direction of Sokolow-Podlaski. We approached a farmer and asked for food. The farmer informed on us to the police, and the gendarmes appeared immediately. We ran in all directions. I reached the forests called Puszcza Sterdynska. . . . Once I met a farmer in the forest and asked him for some food. He told me to gather mushrooms and that he would go and bring me bread. After a short time, he returned with another farmer. They grabbed me, bound my hands, and demanded money and gold. They took out knives and threatened me that if I did not tell them where I had hidden the money they would stab me. I answered that I had been in the camp and that I had no money. They untied my hands, but wound a belt around my neck and informed me that they were taking me to the head of the village. On the way they beat me with a stick and I began to bleed. I thought they would kill me. In the meantime another three farmers arrived, and they led me to a wood. One pulled out a knife and said that for my own good I should give them my money, otherwise they would stab me to death. They warned me not to dare leave the wood because their people were everywhere and I would be caught; I had until the following morning to get the money that I had hidden. I ran from the forest and stopped at an isolated house near the wood. There they took pity on me. They gave me food and clothes and warned me not to stay in that area. . . . In the Puszcza Sterdynska were groups of Polish Underground from the Armia Krajowa (“Home Army”) and they cruelly killed Jews. . . .6
Similar descriptions can be found in the testimonies of other survivors. Kalman Taigman from Treblinka mentions in his testimony that Armia Krajowa men met him and his friends in the forest and shot at them.7
Indeed, more than a few of the escapees met their death in the forests from the bullets of German security forces, rightist and fascist groups of the Polish Underground, or gangs of common criminals and outlaws who operated in those areas. Only a few dozen escapees succeeded in joining up with the Polish partisans of the Armia Ludowa (“People’s Army”)—which was part of the leftist flank of the Polish Underground in which there was a relatively large number of Jews—or with Jewish partisan units.
Mordechai Goldfarb, who escaped from Sobibor, tells about what happened to him in the forests and how he joined a Jewish partisan unit:
Our group consisted of fourteen people, ten of whom were escapees from Sobibor and four Georgians who had escaped from the prison in Radom. After wandering in the forest, we reached the village of Hola. We thought in this area there should be partisans and, indeed, after a short time we met a group of sixteen armed men under the leadership of a Pole, Miszka Piatek.
They took us into their group and we remained together for about two weeks. However, we didn’t feel comfortable as they were common thieves and we sought a way to be rid of them. . . . One night Miszka told us that we had to procure food and vodka. Five of us went out on the mission: three men from Sobibor—Yehuda Lerner, Boris, and I—one Georgian and one of the men from the local group. We reached the village of Kolacze and there we confiscated the food and liquor. . . . We returned to the forest, and at the first guard post of our camp we saw no one. We were surprised, especially when we saw that the second guard position was empty as well. We reached the camp. The fire was still burning and the people looked as if they were sleeping. We drew closer and saw that everyone had been killed. Six Jews and three Georgians were killed. Another Jew, Mendel the tailor, was wounded and asked that we kill him. We got away from the place quickly. We were afraid that Miszka was nearby and would shoot us. The local fellow who was with us disappeared immediately, and the Georgian also left us. We remained three wanderers. In the village of Kamien a farmer told us that nearby there was a group of Jewish partisans. Following the farmer’s directions we walked 2 kilometers until we came to a house. We knocked on the door with trepidation. Suddenly someone shouted at us from a window: “Amcha?” [Jews] We happily replied: “Amcha” These were the people from the Jewish partisan unit of Yechiel Grynszpan. We fought there until the arrival of the Soviet army. On July 24, 1944, we joyously entered Lublin together with them all. . . .8
Yechiel Grynszpan led a Jewish partisan unit that was active in the Parczew forest, northwest of Sobibor, from the end of 1942/beginning of 1943. In the spring of 1943, Grynszpan’s unit joined up with the Polish leftist partisans of the Armia Ludowa, but it remained a Jewish unit. Beside the never-ending danger presented by the German forces, Grynszpan’s unit was also forced to fight against the Armia Krajowa, who ambushed the Jews in the forests. In addition to Mordechai Goldfarb and his friends, other people from Sobibor also reached Grynszpan’s unit, among them Yitzchak Lichtman, Ada Lichtman, and a few women from Holland who had escaped with, her from the camp (Ilana Safran, Selma Wijnberg, Katty Gokkes), a total of twelve people from Sobibor.9
Only a small number of the insurgents from the camps turned eastward and crossed the Bug River to the main areas of Soviet partisan activity.
The post-revolt escapees from Treblinka and Sobibor had absolutely no chance of finding relatively safe hiding places under German occupation. Those who escaped in periods before the revolt, especially in 1942, had usually returned to the ghettos, where they could find at least a temporary sanctuary. But those who escaped after the revolts did not even have this alternative open to them, as the last ghettos had already been liquidated. Therefore, most of the escapees tended to return to the places where they had lived prior to their internment, in the hope that their knowledge of the area and especially their acquaintance with a few local people might give them some chance of remaining alive.
On the whole, with some exceptions, the local population did not aid the escapees. Anti-Semitism, greediness, the fear of German terror and punishment were all contributing factors. Yet it should also be noted that those who did succeed in remaining alive until the liberation were in part saved by the aid extended to them by the local population at critical junctures after their escape from the camps.
Dov Freiberg, who was among those who escaped from Sobibor, sums up the difficult sit
uation:
We were murdered not only by Germans, but by Poles, Ukrainians, and partisans, especially the men of the Armia Krajowa, gangs and farmers. . . . More than once we considered suicide, after we saw that the whole world was against us. Every day of the ten months until the liberation is a story unto itself. Yet I would not have exchanged the whole terrible period in the forests for one day, even the best day, in Sobibor. There were also a few good Poles and Ukrainians. These people helped us and risked their lives because they had to fear every neighbor, every passerby, every child, who might inform on them. . . .10
43
Reports about the Death Camps in Polish Wartime Publications
Information about the Operation Reinhard death camps reached the Polish Underground as soon as the mass-murder actions were begun there. The intelligence branch of the Polish Underground had spread its network throughout the entire area of occupied Poland, even to the most remote places. The information collected by the Underground was published from time to time in the Biuletyn Informacyjny (“Information Bulletin”) of the Command of the Armia Krajowa and was distributed clandestinely in occupied Poland.
These news items were also relayed to the Polish Government-in-Exile in London by the Armia Krajowa or the Delegatura (the delegate of the Polish Government-in-Exile from London in occupied Poland). The Delegatura was the political and civilian arm of the government in London, and a sort of Underground government within Poland. The Armia Krajowa acted in conjunction with the Delegatura, but was not subordinate to it. The Delegatura sent monthly reports, which sometimes covered dozens of pages, called Pro memoria sytuacji w kraju (“Notes on the Situation in the Country”). These reports were transferred to London via Underground messengers who succeeded in reaching England by way of Sweden or Western Europe and Spain, although sometimes weeks passed before a report of this kind reached its destination. Certain reports were transmitted to London from Underground radio stations that maintained continuous contact between Poland and the Government-in-Exile in London and with British Intelligence services.1 Jewish Underground groups in Poland, like the Jewish National Committee and the Bund, also transferred broadcasts to London via the Polish Underground, and, thus, also news of the deportations to the death camps and what was happening there.