Nachum Alperovitch: Thus it Began
Chapters from the Underground
Edited (in Hebrew) by Aharon Meirovitz

Translated by Eilat Gordin Levitan (granddaughter of Nachum Alperovich’s first cousin; Meir Gurevitz) 

There is strong evidence that during World War II many Jews fought the Nazi annihilator and did not go to their deaths like sheep as was commonly thought. Considering the hardships the Jews encountered; the hostile environment and the methods the Germans used to tricked and controlled the Jews by consistently promising to “let them live” if they were "useful and obedient", the evidence of courageous resistance becomes obvious. As someone who experienced the evils of those days as a teenager in my hometown of Kurenets, Likewise, afterward in the forests with the resistance, I can bring many examples of the heroic stands by Jews. Even if the resistance was not always shown in a physical form, they treated the enemy with open hatred and contempt.
I was told about our town's residents Zusia Benes and Leah (daughter of Chaim Yisrael Gurevitz) Benes, an old couple. The day the Germans came to seize them to be slaughtered, they burned their wooden home and jumped in the fire, consequently, the Germans did not get to touch them.
Leib Motosov and Leib Dinerstien encountered similar fates. They jumped in the fire wearing their talits saying, "Here oh Israel!" before the Nazis had a chance to shoot them. All the examples I have used so far are of people who were old and could not physically fight the Nazis, I have no doubt that if they would have had the chance, they would have fought them fiercely.
Moreover, if I mention the older townspeople, I must mention Chaiale Sosensky, a teenager of about 14 or 15. When the Germans came to obtain her, she scratched the faces of the policemen with her nails and prophesied the day of revenge. I was told that she was severely tortured but continuously cursed the killers.
2. Picture of Chaiale Sosensky
On those days of horrors, the Jews of the town were not allowed to have contact with each other, so we don't even know the extent of revolting, particularly in the cases of families who did not survived. However, even the little that we know makes me feel deep respect for my townspeople. Another tale I must tell is that of Israel Alperovich.
Israel was a deeply religious Jew. When he escaped with his family to the woods, he continued keeping Kosher. He starved for many days but did not allow himself to eat the bread and other food brought from the villagers, fearing that the food was not kosher. Israel only ate potatoes that he baked in the fire and, eventually, he died of starvation. I see much heroism in his deed: he never lost his spiritual essence and his deep beliefs. When I compare his final journey to the journey of the many thousands of Russian POW's who while passing trough our town fought each other to get to food that was thrown to them by the Nazis, I can particularly respect him.
Another resistance was from Arka Alperovitch, who attacked a policeman who was taking him to be killed. Arka managed to strike the policeman in the head and take his rifle away; he escaped to the fields, but other policemen killed him.
Yankaleh Alperovich, the son of Orchik and Maryl showed another example of bravery. I will tell about his act of bravery later.
3.. picture of the mother of the author; Pesia Alperovich (daughter of Nachum Kastrell)
First, I must tell you about my mother in a few sentences. Her resistance to the enemy was heroic and lasted throughout all of the days of the Nazi occupation until the German killers took her from her hiding place to her death. Even there, she never stopped cursing them and despising them. She spit in the face of one of them and hit him with her skinny, tired hand. For that, they killed her right on the spot. Days later, the villagers that saw the incident were still talking about it. They were amazed at how brave my mother was.
Most of these heroic occurrences were spontaneous, but the story I am going to tell you about is that of organized, thoroughly thought resistance that was done by a small number of teenagers.
We were members of the youth movement "Hashomer Hatzair" in Kurenitz, even in the days of the Soviets; we worked in secret on our commitment to the youth movement. The group numbered only about 10 to 12 people; it was small only because it had to be underground. During the Nazi occupation, when people realized the existence of our resistant band, many, years older then we were, implore us to let them join our troop.
The active members of the troop in 1941, when the German invaded our area were; Yitzhak (Yetzkaleh) Einbinder age 16, Benjamin (Nyomka) Shulman age 15, Shimon Zirolnik, Zalman Gurevitch, the brothers Elik and Motik Alperovich, Chaim Yitzhak Zimmerman, and I. Later we were joined by; Berta Dimenstien, Noach Dinnerstien, Josef Norman and others. I was 17 at that time. The only survivors of this group were Zalman Gurevitch, Yosef Norman, and I. Yetzkaleh Einbender and Nyomka Shulman were renowned in their heroic deeds and their complete commitment to fight the enemy. Yetzkaleh received many high medals after his death.
Our strong commitment to fight the enemy came from our involvement with "HaShomer Hatzair", the Movement slogan was "Brave and Strong". For us it was much more then a slogan. It was our way of life and our motto. Additional important rule of the Movement was absolute commitment to lookout for each other. 
4. Picture of Hashomer Hatzair in Kurenets, Nachum Alperovich Picture 7.jpg] 
HaShomer Hatzair commandments were; to help each other, to live a life of purity both in the physical and spiritual sense, to cherish nature, to love Eretz Israel, and to train to be farmers in our homeland. This way of life was encouraged and attained by journeys throughout the forest and participation in summer and winter camps alongside youth from other towns.
Those youthful experiences helped us, especially during the hard times of the German occupation. 5. Pictures of the Alperovich Family 
I was drawn to " HaShomer Hatzair" since a very early age, following my older sisters’ example. My oldest sister, Hannah, was one of the first youths in our town to join the movement. Later, my sisters Henia and Rachel joined the Movement too. Hannah spent many seasons in training camps. She yearned to become a "Chalutza" and was waiting for years for a permit to leave for Eretz Israel. Her dream was finally realized in 1938, still without a permit. Using fake papers, she reached Israel on a boat of illegal immigrants.
I was the only son--we were one boy and five girls. Our mother was very brave and clever. In 1917, she was very committed to the Russian revolution. Although she was married at the time and with two young daughters, she deeply believed and fought for communism. Eventually, she lost some of her zeal for communism.
At our house, my mother's brothers (Castroll) were often mentioned. Two of her brothers left for America before I was born, one of them had a candy store. His financial situation was not great and I remember that in one of his letters he wrote, "I have a sweet business with a sour income." My mother's other brother in America was Chanan Castroll. He was the secretary of the Communist party in New York. In 1938, he was a member of a committee that went to Moscow, and people said that he even met Stalin! Hence it must have been a familial trait the interest in political action.
Father, on the other hand, was very different--quiet and much more cautious. Maybe his somber encounters in youth made him cautious. When he was very young, he immigrated to the US, but was not satisfied with the way of life in the U.S, after a short time, he returned to the town.
Mother was very involved with the youth movement, and sometimes I felt that if she were younger, she would have chosen the path of the youth movement. From this, you can probably gather that I never needed to rebel against my parents even though outwardly it seemed that their lifestyle was similar to the rest of the town's Jews. Half of our house that stood in the market center was for our personal use, and the second half was a store for fabric.  6. The Tarbut school, Nachum Alperovich Picture 6.jpg] 
 
My education was the common education in the shtetl. First, I went to a Cheder, and later to Tarbut school were we spoke only Hebrew, there I finished four grades. There was no fifth grade, so the next year we had to continue our studies in a Polish public school. When the school year started, I was tested, but failed the test considering I barely knew Polish it was not a surprise. Instead of putting me in fifth grade, they wanted to put me in third grade. The teacher and headmaster in the school was a Polish man named Mataras. Mother, who was fluent in Polish came to Mataras and told him that I knew the material, it was only the language that I was weak in. Then she started talking Yiddish to the principal and repeated everything she said earlier, but in Yiddish. Mataras said, "How are you talking to me, Madam? What happened to you?" "Nothing happened," my mother said in Polish, "I was telling you the same things in Polish, a language you know well, in contrast now I said it in a language you have no knowledge of. This is my son's state. He knows the material; he just doesn't know the language. If you allow him, you will immediately realize that he will be a good student, and in time will overcome the language barrier."
Mataras was very impressed with my mother's cleverness and accepted me to fifth grade on the condition that I would work very hard the first half of the year, and then he would reevaluate the situation. When the first half-year came, I was still unable to overcome the language barrier so my mother went again and asked to prolong the period; he gave me another half year. By the time the end of the year arrived, I was one of the best students in the class.
It was well known in town that Polish people love gefilte fish--especially the way the Jews make it. Therefore, at the end of the school year mother made some delicacies from gefilte fish. She brought the "Jewish gift" to our Polish headmaster, who was so kind to me. Our families became friendly from that day. We also had friendly relations with the Polish teacher for math, Mr. Scrantani. He was very happy with my progress now that I could speak the language and would always test me with math riddles--a subject that I was very able to perform. In 1936, I graduated from seventh grade in the Polish school.
I was very capable with technical skills. These were financially hard times in town. Father was hardly able to support the family, now he suggested that I should get a profession so I would be more independent and be able to help the family. Father started working as an accountant in the lending establishment, Gmilut Chesed. However, that still was not enough so we decided that I would go to work as blacksmith in the neighboring town, Vileyka.
I worked at an establishment that belonged to a Christian man. In that place, there was another young Christian man who was constantly drunk. One day, he came to work and started torturing me. He took a container full of gas, started pouring it on the ground around me, and threatened that he would light it on fire. I ran out of the establishment and returned to Kurenitz. My parents decided that I should never go back there and that I should look for another profession.
We had a relative in Vileyka named Mandel's who was a merchant of bicycles, radio equipment, and even had one motorcycle that was a new commodity in our area at the time.
7. Picture of motorcycle
Vileyka was a more modern town than Kurenets and it had a printing house that was owned by a Jewish man named Flexer. Flexer was very successful and decided to open a second store to sell bicycles. Mandelis was very upset, and decided to open a printing shop in retaliation. He bought printing material, and stole the best worker from Flexer, a man by the name Abraham Merkovitz.
I had an aunt in Kurenitz, my father's sister, Reshka Alperovitch. She was a very capable woman and well known in town and even outside of town. She was a widow, and beside of taking care of her home, she ran a store that was renowned all over the region. Aunt Reshka said that in her opinion it is much more respectable to work in a printing house than to be a blacksmith. Since my aunt's opinion was much respected by the rest of the family, I joined the workers of the printing place as an assistant along with another young man named Yosef Norman. After Yosef was trained and learned the profession well. Flexer offered him a large sum of money. He started working for him, so now I was the only worker in the Mondavi printing house that was under the management of Abraham Berkovitz.
We had a contract for three years. The first three years I was supposed to get five "units of currency" per month. In the third year, I was supposed to get ten. Therefore, I started working six days a week, and on Saturday, I would return home to my family and to the youth movement that was very important to me.
Amongst my friends in the youth movement, I was much respected since a person that was able to support himself as a laborer was looked up to. I, on the other hand truly wanted to continue my studies but there was just no opportunity to do that since my parents needed the little help I could give them.
During those days, my good friend from the youth movement, Motik, son of Reuven Zishka Alperovitch, was studying in the Vileyka high school. Motik would visit at my job place many times and would always say how jealous he was that I was able to accomplish the proletariat commandment of being productive, and he, on the other hand, must study. He said, "For you, everything is good. If I could only exchange situations with you?" I wished to exchange situations with him. Our printing press was electric, but you could also manually move it either by hand or by feet. Motik would come many times to help me and was very excited when I let him use the arm or foot piece which made him feel like he was part of the labor force. Eventually, I was so experienced that Abraham Berkovitch would let me run the place all by myself.
Even a few years before World War II, we could feel that the spirit of anti-Semitism was growing in Poland. Next to the meeting place of HaShomer Hatzair lived a Christian male nurse named Solkevis. Encompassing his home, there was a fruit grove. Many times while we were playing at the yard, a ball dropped in the garden. Any time we tried to retrieve our ball, his son would start fighting with us. He hated Jews. There was a funny story about Solkevis. People said that once he came to visit a terminally ill person that he could not find a cure for and decided that he has contagious disease. Solkevis started screaming for the house inhabitant not to wait, immediately they should take the sick man out of the house and bury him.
Kopel Specter was the leader of our troop, so whenever we got in trouble with Solkevis's son, he would stand halfway between the son and he and us would somehow manage to stop the fights. One day, I went to get some water from the well near Smorgon Street. The Christian, Pietka Gintoff, saw me, he took my pail that was full of water and dumped it on the ground. I was furious, I took the pail and whacked Pietka on his head. He immediately fell on the ground. A gentile that saw the fight started screaming, "A Jew killed a Christian boy!" After a few minutes, Pietka got up and the Christians who gathered around saw that he was okay. All the Jews that came to see what was happening had to calm down the gentiles. So there wouldn't be a bigger fight.
Kopel would plan our activities and teach us about socialism and Eretz Israel. He would teach us to sing Hebrew songs and Chasidic songs, and we danced many folk dances, the most popular of which was the Horah. Our meetings were not only held in the school, but also in the fields and in the forests. Particularly, we liked to walk to the big boulder, which were two huge rocks in the middle of a field that we always wondered how they got there.
Sometimes, Elik and Motik Einbinder would invite us to the barn that belonged to Reuven Zishka, their father, and there we would hold the meetings. During our vacation, we would walk to the village, Mikolina, near Dolhinov, a distance of about 20km. There we would spend many days in what we called either our summer camp or our winter camp. We would meet members of the HaShomer Hatzair from the Dolhinov Ken (unit), from the Dockshitz ken, and the Krivich ken .
7.. Picture of Motik and Elik with Shimon Zimerman
During the winter, we would go to Ratzke to sled. Ratzke was a tiny town, it was probably named after the river that was on her border and she was most famous for her hills, to us, they looked like mountains and we called them the Ratzkelberg. In the evening, we walked in groups throw town, many times the young Christian kids liked to trick us by putting barbed wire on the road and some times we would get hurt. One time, Pesach, the son of Pinke Alperovich the town's butcher, caught one of those Christian boys who was getting ready to put the barbed wire down. He punched him very hard. Pesach was a very good-looking boy, very strong and brave, and we were all very proud of him. This scared the Christian kids, and after that, they stopped bothering us. We were especially proud of Pesach, since his brother Tevel was a member of our troop.
In our meetings, we would discuss events that happened very far away from Kurenets. In 1936, we had big arguments among the members regarding the situation in Eretz Israel. This was during the bloody fights with the Arabs. We argued whether the Jews should take a compromising situation with the Arabs to keep the peace or they should fight.
We were all about 13 or 14 at the time and for some of us, it was difficult to obey the rules of HaShomer Hatzair. One of the most dedicated members was Shimon Zirolnik. He was a very serious and kind person, and would always follow the rules and keep a pure lifestyle.
When I was 13, for my bar mitzvah my mother gave me her father's tefillin. I was named after my mother's father, Nachum Castroll. Nachum was a Shochet in Kurenitz for many years. He turned blind when he was old. Just before he died, he said to mother that if he would be lucky enough to have a grandson in Kurenitz (he had other grandsons in the U.S and the Soviet Union), she should name him Nachum and he will inherit his tefillin.
I was very disappointed when my mother gave me the tefillin. When my friends their bar mitzvahs they got new tefillin that looked beautiful, and mine was old and shabby looking. Mother kept explaining how important it was to keep the tefillin. That it was a tradition that passed for many generations in our family. Finally, I was convinced, and by the time I read the Torah and Haftorah, I could already appreciate the importance of the old tefillin. I argued with my friends and won the arguments that mine was superior. Just about those days, the youth movement, Beitar, was getting very popular in town and we fought with them for the recruiting of new members.  A new spirit in town. World War II started and the Soviets came to our area (of now Belarus) after the partition of Poland. Many members of our youth movement believed that the Soviets would understand our nationalistic desires, particularly our youth movement's desires, since it was based on Marxist ideology.
Particularly excited amongst us were Shimon Zirolnik and Nyomka Shulman. Nyomka was 14 at the time, already a deep thinker, brimming with energy and a leader type. Both of them had hoped that the Soviets would help us accomplish our nationalistic desires as Jews. Nyomka and Shimon started studying Marxism very tenaciously. Nyomka even read Marx in German to be sure that he did not miss any of the intent. When the Soviets had just arrived, there was a feeling of comfort for some of us. The Christian boys who used to bother us were very quiet now. No one was allowed to say the word, "Jeed." The judge that came to our area from Russia was a Jew and I must say that the political committee was working hard trying to educate the public. We, the members of HaShomer Hatzair, would gather in Nyomka's' house no more in secret. We would talk and argue. Some of us even had girlfriends who were Russian (not Jewish). In general, there was much more communication amongst the Jews and Russians. I had new opportunities for education particularly since prior to the Russia arrival I was a proletariat, a laborer in a printing place consequently my situation was very favorable now. As I told you earlier, I finished seven grades in the Polish school. I could be accepted to the public high school to fifth grade.
The elementary school in town now became a high school. Many of my friends were accepted to fifth grade, but some of us who stopped our studies prior and were about 16 and 17 were much older than the rest of the students who were about 14. Some of the teachers were Polish but few came from Russia. Now, many students came from Russia from territories that, prior to the war, belonged to Russia. Some people among us thought that there was no sense to study since we soon would be 18 and would have to serve in the army. There was a huge difference in capabilities between the Jews and the non-Jews. The Jews were all very good students and, in no time, there was a big gap. Other than studies, the school also had many social activities now. There was singing and dancing and we had many lessons on Communism. My biggest desire those days was to continue to study medicine, but that was a long-term dream.
During the summer vacation of 1940, I went to work for the train station. My job was to check the tracks; the train tracks were made of wood and there was iron on top of them. I had to check that the wood was not rotten. The tracks would get affected by heat and cold so I had to be very diligent in my job and report the situation to a Christian, named Bogdonyuk, who was the head of the train station. At that time, they started widening the train tracks that had previously belonged to the Polish territories since they were slightly narrower than the ones that the Russians used. Therefore, I was traveling on a little bicycle from Kurenets to Molodetszno, and I would check things and report to Bogdonyuk.
I did my job so well that they suggested that I should go to Leningrad to study in the Techniyon. I came home and I told my mother that I got an offer. My mother asked me, "Why the Techniyon? You always talked about being a doctor." At that time, we had a renter who was responsible for the communist propaganda in the region. He was Jew named Israel Guzman, and he suggested that if I could finish the ninth grade in high school until my time in the army, he would arrange for me to go to medical school. At that time, people from the Polish area were allowed to finish high school only graduating from ninth grade, unlike 10th grade, which was more common in Russia. I listened to Guzman, but I thought it would be impossible in the time that I had left before I have to serve in the army to finish four grades. Mother did not agree with me. She said that I could study very hard during the summer and learn everything needed for sixth grade, so the next year I could go to seventh grade, and then we would get postponement to finish ninth grade. Guzman agreed with mother, so I immediately discontinued to work on the tracks and started preparing for seventh grade. Most of my friends also did the same and by the time the year started, we were even able to help some of the Russian students who were not so good in their studies.
The days of "honey" do not last long
The first weeks of the Soviet rule seemed like days of honey. However, this period was done with in no time and many troubles came subsequently to the town population, particularly to those "richer Jews" such as the merchants. Many of the Jews were imprisoned and some were sent to Siberia. Our hopes that the Soviets would recognize our nationalistic desire disappeared. In town, were many Jewish soldiers from the Red Army and they would tell us stories that in Russia, they lack nothing, they had everything they desired. One soldier who fell in love with a Jewish girl from the town would say in Russian, "Me yee vosof emiem," meaning, "We have everything." The clowns in town would say what he means is the word "mayeem" is water in Hebrew so they do not lack water in Russia. Of the true situation of the Russian people we would learn from the way the soldiers behaved. They would buy anything from any merchant in sight. they would even agree to buy two left shoes with two different colors! Shortly, the stores were empty of all merchandise and even the local residents were waiting for the merchants to arrive from Russia. Now, it would come to the cooperative store and the merchandise would be divided amongst the residents who would stand in lines to get the rations. The payment for the supplies was originally with both Soviet and Polish money, Soviet rubles and Polish zloty. The cooperative stores opened in a few places in town. The Soviets made a few stores into one big store. Our house that was part of a store was taken. It became component of a cooperative of leather goods. The smell of the leather spread all over our house and it was very hard to breathe. All day long, people would come to these stores to shop. No one knew what products would be found on a particular day. The main seller was a Jew from town, Moolah (Shmuel, the son of Yehoshua Alperovich). He was a true comedian and would have all kinds of stories to tell. We would come to him and ask in Yiddish, "Moolah, mas vin hind kind?" Moolah would answer, "Today only balalaikas." One day, Moolah said that they sold many locks, but there was only one key to all the locks; still, everyone was ready to buy the locks.
The authorities fired teachers in the school. This was the situation of the headmaster, Mataras. To supplant for the fired teachers, they brought teachers from the Vostok and some local residents became teachers. One was Yitzchak Zimmerman who was called in town Ytza Ckatzies', meaning Yitzhak son of Yechezkel. Ytza was known as a very learned man. He became our teacher for Russian studies. He was renowned amongst the students and the teachers alike. He was a very educated man, knew the Hebrew language very well, and would win any argument. He had a good voice and was very involved in the synagogue. The teacher, Josef Scrantani, continued teaching. He taught mathematics. His wife became also a Russian teacher, but their situation was very difficult. Scrantani became sick with tuberculosis but continued smoking. I, myself, did not smoke. I was not allowed to according to the rules of HaShomer Hatzair. However, I had an easy time getting cigarettes so I would buy cigarettes and come to school to give them to Scrantani pretending as if I, was trying to stop smoking. The fact that I never saw anyone from the Scrantani family stand in line for cigarettes or anything else made me think that I should do something for them. We really believed that sugar had a heeling effect. During the Polish days, there were posters saying, "Sukiari keshpeh," meaning, "Sugar makes you strong." Therefore, I decided to get a large sum of sugar for Scrantani to compensate for the fact that I was giving him cigarettes that I knew were bad for him.
My sister, Henia, worked as a checker in the restaurant in Vileyka. I approached her, told her about Scrantani, and asked her to sell me two bags of 1kg each.
Although it was much more expensive to buy it there, my financial situation was good so I did not mind paying a higher price if I did not have to wait in line. Henia gave me the sugar. The next day, I approached Scrantani's wife. She was very excited when she received the sugar and said, "You don't know, my dear, how we appreciate your deeds. At the same time, I think how things have changed. In the old days, I would have been extremely insulted if someone had tried to help me like this, but these days things were different. I cannot express how wonderful it is that you care for Scrantani so." I paid for the sugar with 32 rubbles. She assumed that I had stood in line and paid me 20 rubbles. I said that I only paid 10 rubbles so that is what she gave me. Scrantani, who was a Polish Christian, told Mataras (who was also Christian) about what I had did for him. Moreover, the reason that I am telling this story is that they were very helpful to us in the days to come.
Amongst the Christian villages, there was hate of the Soviet rulers. Many of the villagers who had horses were forced to work for the Soviets. There were also rumors that soon they would establish Kolchozes and they would take away the farms including the cows and horses and bring them there. So now, many of the villagers tried to get rid of their horses. They would bring them to the meat market and sell them very cheap. They would pretend that the horses were sick, slaughter them, and take the skins to sell to the government. The rule was that in order to establish that a horse was sick, a veterinarian had to assess the health of the horse. Sometimes, the veterinarian was paid under the table, so many healthy horses were killed. Many of the Jews and the local authorities were involved in this practice and were eventually caught and sent to Siberia. Similar to horses were cows and other livestock. Those days, many cows were sick with tuberculosis, but many people pretended that healthy cows were sick with tuberculosis so that they could sell the cows for meat and leather.
At that time, I remember that my parents bought another cow to add to the one cow we had prior to that. We bought it from a Christian farmer named Kostya. Truly, the cow was healthy, yet when they checked her, they said that she was sick with tuberculosis. Moreover, she must be slaughtered immediately. Kostya and his wife were very honest people and came to us saying that when they brought the cow to us she was very healthy therefore, she turned sick more recent. They told us that as a consolation they would give us a one-year old calf. At the end, we did not agree, but we became very friendly with them.
Father the enemy of the proletariat.
At just about the same time, someone told on my father that he used to be a "major merchant." So on his identification card, it was put that he was an enemy of the proletariat. It was not enough reason to send him to Siberia, but he was limited in his ability to get a job and was only allowed to do menial work. Father, who was only middle class merchant who had worked in accounting for Gmilut Chesed, now had to start doing manual work. He would go to work with one of the Gentiles from town, Meetzkovsky, and would be his assistant in building furnaces. Father would hand to him the bricks and other materials. Meetzkovsky was a very friendly person. He could speak Yiddish fluently, and when he spoke it sometimes, his language would be much nicer than that of the town's Jews. Not only did the Russians confiscate apartments and stores, but also the synagogue that was called Beit Hamidrash, where the Mitnagdim prayed, was confiscated. There were other pray-homes. Two belonged to the Chassidim and there was a Minyan of the rabbi where only the most religious of the Chasids would pray. The synagogue they confiscated became a community center. There were meetings and speeches, and even movies would be shown there. The Jews took out all the bible books and the head of the community center took out the beautiful beema so that the place would be larger inside. Now, most of the townspeople, Christians and Jews, would come there to watch movies. The older people of the town would tell how the beema was originally made. In 1924, one of the former town's residents Max Shulman, who immigrated to the US and became very rich. Max arrived in town and gave a vast sum of money for amongst other gifts, to improve the synagogue and put in the beema. He even brought a painter from Vilna to paint unique scenes for the beema.
Father, in those days, was dreaming of becoming a farmer. , If he had to do manual work, he decided to get a parcel to farm. At that time, anyone that lived near by a land parcel was told that he could get the land next to the house if he wanted to be farmers. Therefore, father decided to register to get such land. Amid the persons who were granting the land was a Jew from Russia. He abruptly whispered to my father in Yiddish, "Da oom vah ava rhysm. Af laka tif din art," meaning, "Here you must know that a person who owns some land ends up being buried in the land." Father immediately understood the meaning and decided to return to his job with Meetzkovsky.
Aunt Reskah's house was also confiscated and now it became the home for the Russian authorities and my aunt and her children had to leave. The same was the fate of the house that belonged to the Einbinder family, the parents of my friend Yetzkaleh.
* Test TimeThe meetings of our Youth Movement became increasingly covert. Therefore, in many ways this began our underground activities. The core of the Youth movement for us was our leader Kopel Spektor although he didn't spend much time in town. Kopel finished his Techniyon studies in Vilna with very high grades. When the soviets realized his skills, they sent him to work in Molodetszno where he had a lab. He was working on an invention. He made something to do with trains.
He was beloved by all of us teenagers and we waited impatiently for the times he would come to Kurenitz. At some point Josef Kaplan came to town. He was one of the principal leaders of HaShomer Hatzair in Eastern Europe and now he came to communicate with us and tell us how we could still immigrate to Palestine. He told us we should go to Vilna. From there people would go to Japan and from there somehow to Palestine. Our friend Chaim Yitzhak Zimerman went to Vilna to inquire about it. It was very difficult to reach Vilna that now was on other side of border; therefore, he had to pay large sum of money to bribe someone to let him proceed. When he returned to Kurenitz with the information needed some of us prepared to leave for Vilna. However, soon after Vilna became part of the Soviet Union and this plan was not viable anymore.
One time the chemistry teacher was trying to do an experiment with dangerous chemical and since I was experienced at such things, I told him this was dangerous. He told me "if you are so scared go to the back benches. I immediately did as he told me. I was right and the teacher while doing the experiment got a burn on his face. The next day I showed the class how to do it in a safer way. Therefore I got a good grade, but was sent home for bad behavior being disrespectful to the teacher.
Mother came to the high school to talk to the headmaster the next day. He was from soviet Russia and he was a Jew, by the name of Fishkin. She said " there was something wrong with my sons' behavior but the punishment was too strong. Everyone admitted that there was something wrong with the way the teacher did the experiment, not only wrong but also dangerous. Nevertheless, despite the mistake the teacher is staying in school. My son who is sorry for his behavior is taken out. Is that justice?" The principal was convinced and I was let back into school.
Mean while since I planed to skip some grades I had to bring note from doctor that I can withstand such difficult task. A Jewish doctor named Cyrynsky came to our area in 1937. He was most respected by all. He was very helpful to the poor people. I went to see him and asked for a note. He tried to convince me not to take such a difficult task and asked me why I was in such a hurry to skip grades. I explained the fact that I was older and eventually he gave me the permission. So I took the difficult tests and managed to get into eighth grade in high school in Vileyka. In the evening I would go for classes for ninth grade so one time, the head of the education department in Vileyka came to see me during a test he sat in the classroom. When I finished the test, he came to me. He said "what grade were you in last year?" I told him "I was in 5th grade". "Can you explain if you were in 5th grade how are you in 9th grade. In Russia, there was one person named Lomonosov that was able to do it. You must try to be like him."
Now, I was emotionally prepared to study medicine one day. Some years before I had another great desire. I was studying Spanish because of the civil war in Spain. The war of the Republicans against Franco appealed to the workers all over the world many volunteers came to fight, and I dreamed of volunteering and that’s why I studied Spanish. Finally we reach June 15 1941 I graduated the ninth grade as I needed to do. My sister Henia would say that she was ready to clean floors so we will have enough money to send me to medical school.
The way it began
To run or not to run?
I was able to enjoy my vacation only for a few days. I felt that now my dreams can be realized and a bright future is waiting for me. Then the fateful moment of June 22 1941 came, the day of the attack by the Nazis, their invasion of the USSR. That day at four in the morning the German planes bombed the train tracks in Molodetszno. People said that there are many wounded and killed there. Even though there was obvious pandemonium all around us, the authority in Kurenets tried to come us down and promised that very soon the Germans will be annihilated, so we shouldn’t panic. Still many of us thought we shouldn’t stay that we must escape east.
People started arguing about what we should do. Should we run or stay? There was a library on Vileyka Street with many books in Polish, Russian, Hebrew and Yiddish. For unknown reason, someone from the Soviet authority ordered to destroy the library and all books were thrown out to the street. I looked at the books and how ironic, amongst them I found a Spanish- Yiddish dictionary that I looked for so much a few years ago. I took the book. I was hopeful at that point and sure that the red army would overcome the Germans very soon. Someone that saw me with the book laughed at me and said, "this is an unreasonable time to learn Spanish now that the Germans are coming you should be learning German". Guzman, our renter, on the other hand was very sure that the red army would win soon. He said to me "we'll push them out. The red army will show the awful nazi that they are not dealing with the Polish army anymore."
A few days passed and the Germans were going from one victory to next and the soviets were retreating from our area. Now the pandemonium was everywhere. Mother told me that it would be better if I would run away to the east. She prepared supplies for me. I didn't know what she put in the bag she just gave it to me and said, "Run away my son, run east. The situation is very bad". Many started leaving town, in the neighboring community Ratzke that had about 15 Jewish families; I met with Meir Mekler, Abba Narutzki, and the son of David the shoemaker. I also remember a few of the policemen and members of the soviet authority there. We rested near Ratzke about 8 km from our town. A soviet officer came to us, told us that the situation in the front is improving, so there is no reason for us to run east, and we should return to Kurenets. We didn't trust him and decided to wait there a little longer. It was around noon and we got hungry. I opened the bag for food, but I found out that mother instead of food put many cigarette boxes. Again, I realized how my mother was very clever. Although she knew, I was not smoking. My youth movement had rules against it, nevertheless she knew that cigarettes are worth more than money. She was thinking about my future. Therefore, I gave some cigarettes to one of villagers who gave me food in return. I shared my food with a girl from Kurenets that was with me.
Most of the people that were with us didn't accept what the officer said and continued going east. The girl and I decided to return to town. We reached the village Bogdanova that was 4 km from Kurenets and since it was already dark, we decided to sleep there and go back in the morning. We slept under a tree, it was nice summer night, and in the area, there were many fruit trees.
In days of peace, the Jews would lease those fruit orchards. Early in the morning, we were awakened by the young villager that took their cows to pasture. They must have thought that we were lovers. We got up and returned to town. When we returned we were told those few policemen that we met in Ratzke also returned but didn’t stay long. They immediately left to go east. Therefore, the evening of June 25 1941 there was no one left from the Russian authority. Everyone went east.
That morning when I passed by house of aunt Reshka that was two years before confiscated by soviet authority, I decided to enter, there was no one there. The house was in a total mess. I found many papers, document, and ids with pictures, so I took many of those documents saying to myself "who know what the days will bring maybe it can help me some how". I also went to Chaim Sotzkover's house that was also confiscated by the soviets prior to the German invasion, and there I found a lot of papers and I took them too. I returned home, hid everything and went to rest. I was very tired and fell asleep immediately.
The town was now with no rulers. The villagers from the surrounding villages started coming to town planning to rob the soviet stores and the Jews. An amazing phenomenon occurred and that gave us Jews, a little encouragement. The Christians inhabitant of our town organized a committee to prevent the villagers from robbing our town. Shortly after we found out that they were doing it because they didn't want our possessions to be taken by others.
Dr. Shostakovitch that later was German sympathizer now was with the Jews, organizing patrol of Christians and Jews and we started a watch all around the town. This patrol lasted about two days and then the Christians residents started robbing the soviets supplies and a few of them took supplied from the Jewish stores. In addition, some of the villagers managed to come and rob our homes too. I remember something funny that occurred that if it were not such hard time, it would be a good comedy. One Jew, Zalman- Neta Wexler Who was very sneaky and clever, when the gentiles came to rob his house, mixed in with them and pretended to be one of the robbers and managed to "steal" some of his own possessions.
On 28th of June 6 days after the war began, a few Germans soldiers entered the town. They came from Vileyka Street riding motorcycle and cars. They stopped for a while in the corner of Vileyka street and Smorgon and continued passed Dolhinov street. The gentiles gave them flowers and milk. Amongst them were Kasick Sokolovsky that was holding a rifle in hand, Pietka Gintoff, and Pelvic. The three were later collaborators and killer of many Jews. Some Jews observed the arrival of the German soldiers and I was among them. The fact that they cross-town and didn’t strike anyone encouraged us, someone said, "they passed and didn't cause us any harm, maybe the monster is not so bad".
At 11 in morning, tanks came to town. Now there was ominous predilection. The soldiers’ first question when they met us was "how many Jews are in town?" One of the people who were standing there answered. A Germans said, "too bad too bad they’ll all have to be moved out of here". Still some Jews said; "don't take it seriously, he is just talking". Others said that during W.W.I, the German invasion was good for the Jews.
The picture of the Germans approaching Kurenets and the gentiles giving them flowers and milk was printed in one of the German newspaper. The tanks went through Myadel Street to the market center and went east to Dolhinov. At 1 PM, there was an order by the German that everyone that has weapon must return it to the authority. Two young boys, cousins, with the same last and first name- Shimon Zimerman, returned the weapons. When they return it, they were murdered.
Fear spread all over when we found out about it. Even the ones that thought the Germans would be okay, from the memories of WW1 were asking, "What should we do ". They tried to find a reason for the murder of the two boys. Since the two murdered boys were members of our youth movement and our good friends, we were all shocked. Nyomka came to me very upset and said we should do something. Therefore, we decided that we should all meet with Kopel Spektor and decided what to do, and this is how our underground activity started.
Kopel said that we must meet in secret place so we met by the swamps behind the bathhouse. A place crowded with bushes that could not be seen from the main road. So here we met Kopel Spektor, Nyomka Shulman, Yitzkale Einbender, Zalman Gurevitch, the brothers Motik and Elik Alperovich, Yechiel Kremer, Shimon Zirolnik, and I . It was clear to us that in the coming days, death can come from any corner. We vowed to fight. The question was how to fight how to get weapon. Our ideas were still unclear. Someone suggested that in our situation, there is only one option. Jump on police, kill him and take his weapon. That was they way of underground. Shimon said that other than physical fight, we must also have political fight (poster) Propaganda. We must make flyers to distribute among the villagers, and tell them to fight the Nazis invader. He told me that I should organize it. I used to work in printing house.
As we came out of bushes, we met Josef Zuckerman who was much older than us, he told us that a few days ago when Russian left he saw one of them passed through the swamps threw a gun somewhere. He showed us where it was. We looked for it and found it, it had three bullets.
Although the two Shimon cousins were killed cruelly, still people try to not judge the Germans. They wanted to see it was out of ordinary case and that not foretells of future. People whose homes were taken by soviets now returned t so that looked to some as a good thing. It was July 1st, when the Germans actually entered the town and put officers there. The 1st comment that day was all the male Jews must go to the towns market to register. Anyone that won't come there will be killed immediately.
When we came to the market, we were told that we must chose Jewish committee Judenrat that will be our communication w the authorities. A refugee from Austria by the name of Shuts was elected a head of committee. He came to town in 1939. He was a thrown out of Austria and was hit badly. When he came to our town he had wound on head but found a place here and he became German teacher in Polish school and physical education teacher. He was respected in town and German was excellent so was appropriate for the job. The SS men that this occasions, the Jews have no rights. From now on, we were ordered to do whatever told. We have to wear a yellow tag, must not cross the street, must not go on the sidewalk, but we had to walk in the middle of the street, like horses. No more were we allowed on trains or cars. There were curfews at night from 6am to 6pm. We were not allowed to be in-groups of more than three Jews. We were forbidden to have communication with gentiles. When the SS man ended his speech, he ordered us to disperse, and everyone left.
A few days later, the German army started coming to town. There was a never-ending parade of troops driving or walking through Vileyka to Dolhinov at night. It was impossible to cross the street that was filled with German soldiers. It was very difficult to take cows to the pasture during the daytime, so we got up early at 6am when there were few soldiers. We would somehow manage to cross the street to take the cows to the pasture. We used to take the cows to an area abundant of grass. I would usually take the cows and stay all day to 6pm and then I would make the cows run quickly to get back to our yard. On the way back home, I had to go by the house of Motka Alperovich. Now the Germans had taken his house, so this part of the walk was very dangerous. At that point, we were ordered not only what not to do, but also what we should do from now on. There was an order that every time we see a German, we must take our hats off and greet him in respect, in recognition of superiority.
One time when I passed by German, on purpose I didn't take hat off so they beat me mercifully. Next time I decided to be smarter and walked without a hat. When they caught me this time, not only did they beat me up, they shaved my head and gave me a shaved in shape of cross, one ear to other, forehead to neck. My mother cut all of my hair. The third time, I was wearing a hat and took it off when they came by. When they saw that I was baldheaded, they figured I was a Russian soldier, who escaped from being POW, so for that he would kill me. He was holding a gun and another German passed by and said to other guy, "Look this is a perfect example of what Jews look like. You shouldn't kill him. This time when the time comes for no Jews, he can be an example of what Jews look like, with long nose." They laughed and let me go. Even when I think about it today, I cannot believe how sure they were about their victory thinking that there would one day be no more Jews left. Sometimes my father will go with the cow and he experienced the horrible treatment. This was on Kosita Street, not far from the train track. Some German soldiers came off the train and when they saw him, they called for him. When he went to them, they beat him severely. He returned home but didn't tell anyone what happened. Later that day, he told sister Rachel that she met some German who treated her well like a human, father got upset and took his shirt off and showed us his back of injuries. We were shocked and immediately gave him first aid. He told us of his memories of Germans from WWI. Even then, one day he was almost killed and it took a miracle to get out alive. From then on, we started avoiding taking the cow to pasture and most of the time we would take grass from the field and bring it home for the cow that stayed in the barn. Not far from our home, between the house of Wexler family and the house of Yitzhak Moshe Meltzer the hater, there was a line of stores that were used in the soviet times as supply rooms. The Germans continued to use the supply rooms and they put flour and other supplies there. Now they made the Jews carry the sacks full of flour. One time, when I was carrying a sack on my back, I unintentionally touched a German that stood guarding us and the flour from my clothes came onto his uniform. He was very mad and started screaming and told the other German standing there, when will I get new uniform. I was in other battles for the homeland in Czechoslovakia, Austria, and Poland and always, they would give me new clean uniform. So when will I get one in this war with the communist? His friend said that the day of victory will come and he'll get new uniform, but until that day, this Jew will clean it for you. I had no choice, I took a brush and clean his uniform and knelt to clean his pants.
We decide to fight
A few weeks passed since the announcement of the new rules. Many people suffered and we only know a little of the suffering. One day at 9am, we gathered at the house of Nyomka Shulman. Yitzhak Zimerman, who was much older then us, was member of HaShomer Hatzair from 1928, was also told of our plans. Nyomka Shulman had a very old and blind grandmother and she had her own room. Her room was always dark and she seemed as if she was not aware of the present. All day she would reiterate a passage. She would say the passage in the Soviet times as in the German days. "God in heaven please help every Jew and keep every one healthy and safe." Despite the fact that she seemed not aware of what was around her, in her passage you could hear something of the horrors outside the room. Occasionally the old women would leave the room but even when she sat in the corner, we could discuss everything she was ignoring the outside world. So now we met, five people, there were Nyomka, Itzka, Zalman, Shimon, and I to discuss what to do. We all realized that the situation was getting worse and we must not sit and do nothing. To get weapons was a intricate assignment and we didn't even fathom what to do with the weapon once we got it. However at this time we were more troubled with how to obtain it. Someone said that near the river between Poken village and Myadel, not far from Chaim Zokofsky carpentry, there was a rifle. At that time, German took Zokofsky carpentry and it was dangerous to walk around it at night or morning. Regardless we decided to check the spot.
Mother was told about it and she suggested she would help. Zalman and I went with mother. We pretended to be collecting grass for the cow. Mother thought that if she joined us we would appear less suspicious. We paced on all sides as if collecting grass and after a while we found the rifle, we took the sack that we had and put the rifle in the sack laden with grass. The sack was to short and the rifle stuck out. So part of the way I put it under my jacket, finally we reached home. When father saw the rifle, he became worried. He said that we are taking tremendous responsibility on ourselves. We are playing with fire. Dad was a traditional Jew even prior to the war but now he became intensely orthodox. He said "whatever God decided for us, will happen and we will not change his will". He would continuously say this passage. Father was now taking part in every funeral in town and at this time, there were many funerals. One day two young guys, one was Mendel the grandson of Leib Motosov, the other, Mendel, the grandson of Chaim Velvel, the owner of a store for metal work, were sent to work in Vileyka. The order for their new job came from the Gvint Commissar. On the way to work, they met Shernagovitz, a local policeman that worked for the Germans. he killed them both on the spot. One gentile from nearby villages found the bodies and brought them in his buggy to Kurenitz. Leib Motosov, the grandfather of one of the youths, who was a very intelligent man, was mourning and extremely distressed, "What is the reason here? There must be some logic in things." he said, "They were ordered to go to work by the Gvint commissar. Each one was holding a saw and ax ready to work as they were ordered." Nevertheless here comes a policeman and kills them. This is a crime that Gvint commissar could not ignore. We must complain".
Father believed that everything was decided in heaven, he told us "we could never understand the reason why things are. Moreover, there's no reason to complain to Gvint commissar. It will just open the mouth of Satan". This was in the first month of German rule. People didn’t believe that things that are more awful are going to happen. Moreover, that they will happen almost daily.
The rifle that we found near the river was hidden in our attic. The rifle had no bullets. Nevertheless, the ingenious Nyomka Shulman said; "even if we have no bullets, it's worth something. If you meet a police, you point the rifle at him, he won't know that you don’t have bullets. The policeman will hesitate and you might be able to overcome him and take his own weapon". That day we managed to get a gun from a villager from Volkovishtzina by exchanging some salt and this gun was hidden also in our attic. In a meeting, in Nyomka's grandmother room, Shimon suggested again that we should start propaganda and showed us that he already did something for it. He brought a frame where we can arrange for a flyer specially made frame that could be used to make flyers. That same day I almost was killed when I walked through the market that was usually empty. I heard the voice of German watchman far from me. He told me to stop, yelling, "why didn't you greet me?" He started readying his weapon to shoot. I knew that if I try to run he'd kill me. Therefore, I started to tell him something, lucky for me an officer came and the soldier changed his tune. He screamed "bloody Jew get away don’t come near me." I was still afraid that if I did as he said and ran he'd shoot me. For some reason, the officer permeated me to go home. I didn't know why the first one was upset and I didn't know why the second one let me go. Therefore in a hurry, I left the spot.
In the meat market
The victory of the Germans in the front brought many prisoners of war to town. The meat market became a station for the transferring of thousands of POWs who continually passed through town. There was barbed wire around meat market and watchtowers with lights at corners. POWs would stay one night and would transfer west. Many of them would die there in the meat market, they would be buried right there, and the next day there was new group of POWs. Many were wounded and starving and they kept an extremely inadequate sanitary condition. The gentiles, the residents of the surroundings towns would stand at side roads and throw food to them, potatoes, and fruits. They had a lot of compassion for them. The POWs would run to the food and started fighting each other to get something. The German that hated any disorder would hit them and threaten the people that gave them food. "If you want to give them food, it has to be in orderly manner" they said. The officer would constantly yell, "there must be order. You must collect the food in one place and we will divide it amongst the POWs." Many of the Jews brought water from the well and the river by Dolhinov Street. The POWs that were wounded badly would be killed prior to arriving at market. However, some badly wounded POWs would be brought to the other market in buggies. The gentiles did what they were ordered and put food in one place. The Jews and non-Jews would take the wounded of the buggies and lie them on the ground as told. We were ordered by Germans to put the head in one straight line. At first, we didn't understand why they cared if they were in straight lines, but soon enough, we learned the reason. The officer stood across from their headlines with an automatic rifle, opened fire, and killed all of them.
One day a German officer caught me and Yechiel Kremer, the son of Yekutiel Meir who was much older then me, and we were ordered to wash the car of one of the officer. He told us "if I find out that you didn't clean it well or sabotaged it, I'll kill you like dogs." This was on Dolhinov Street not far from meat market. He ordered me to take the wheels off and clean them, at first it was hard. To take them of, but eventually we did it. Then officer demanded that we would take the seat covers from the inside of the car and clean the inside. He was teasing us saying "we are going to Moscow and I must come there with clean shiny car." When I was done with the job, I asked the German officer if I could go to eat. While we were standing there, I saw what was happening in meat market. When I was done with the job the officer decided to send us to work with the POWs. When we walked there, we passed a garden in front of the Polish house. I saw that in the bushes close to the sidewalk there is a weapon. So carefully, I moved the weapon to a more hidden place in the bushes. When we reached the meat market, we were told to help with the distribution of food to the POWs, the gentiles collected it in one area. Amongst the POWs that were brought to the market, I saw a young Jewish man from Ratzke named Hoinsihof. I saw that he threw a note on the ground when he saw me,
With his eyes, he signaled to pick up the note. I did it and saw the first two lines, He was begging me to let his family know he was here. I threw the note to the side immediately. One of the Germans saw and thought I was the one drawing the note. I explained to him I saw it on the ground and was curious. He didn't believe me, put me next to a wall, called a guard, and said to him; "aim to the head". Nevertheless, a second later he changed his mind thinking maybe he was wrong and instead of "fire", he yelled, "halt" meaning stop. The soldiers put their weapons down. He asked me "are you going to continue to spy?" I couldn’t say a word my tongue was paralyzed. With the stick he had, he hit my hands and that brought me back to reality. I explained that I didn't write the note. I'm not guilty. He listened to my defense but still ordered me to lie on ground and hit me. Eventually I fainted. They spilled water on my head and I woke up. Now he let me go home but reminded me I must return to work the next day. It was already dark and I managed to crawl from the market to my home. My whole back was full of wounds and blood was pouring everywhere. My mother put dressings on wounds and although situation was bad, she was happy I was alive
The POWs continued to pass through town, the situation was heartbreaking, and one day we met at Nyomka and talked about the POWs how we can help them.
We decided to do something. We went to the Judenrat and demanded that the Shuts will send us to work in meat market. While we were working there, some of us managed to give the POWs clothes. When we left a few to escape with us. Among the escapees was a man that later on was code named Vlodia and became one of the underground leaders in our area. The sight we saw in the meat market was horrible. It was so crowded that some POWs couldn’t find place to lie and rest. During the day the place was enveloped by flies, the heat was unbearable, and at night, it got cold. The POWs who still had some capabilities managed to cut pieces of wood for little fire to keep warm. I can never forget one of the POWs from what was left of uniform I could tell he was an officer. He managed to get water, he washed and changes clothes. He arranged a fire pit to warm himself. One German was looking at him the entire time, and didn't like what he saw. He approached him from behind and with great force, hit him on back with rifle. The officer collapsed lifeless.
Even at that point, some believed that the soviets would overthrow the Germans. Our group would discuss the subject but we didn’t know how to help the Russians. Shimon Zirolnik would particularly talk about it, he believed that the day of revenge would come soon. Moreover, the Nazis would be annihilated in a short time. In the meat market, the Germans put electric light so they could watch the POWs at night. The villagers brought food and clothes since they felt pity for the POWs who many times walked around almost naked. The clothes would be put in one pile. They were rumors that among POWs many managed to get clothes and then mix with people that came to work and escape. I was prototypical Jewish looking and the POWs knew that they needn't fear me. I was approached by one of POWs and asked how he could escape. I pointed to clothes and he understood my sign and managed to escape. One night the electric power was cut off and there was darkness. People were whispering in secret that it was done by Dania Alperovich the son of Chaim Abraham that worked in carpentry of Chaim Zokofsky. The carpentry was right next to meat market and the electricity lines were going through the carpentry. Among the escapees that day were two POWs who managed to reach the Ungerman pool. When they realize that someone was following them they hid under bridge and there they were found and murdered.
The flyers
It was the end of august and the nights became colder. We still met at Nyomka's house and still didn’t know what to do. Shimon was very excited about the POWs that escaped. He said that some were experienced soldiers and they could help us with the resistance unit. He suggested that we will make flyers and maybe they will reach some POWs that escaped and are now in hiding. Meanwhile he improved the printing press still there was a problem. We didn't have letters to be used for the printing.
Josef Norman, the man that I learned to print with, was working in the printing press that was now in the hands of the Germans. Therefore, we decided that I would meet with him and tell him our plan. Maybe we can get the letters from him.
The first days the Germans entered the Vileyka district, they ordered all the Jewish males from Vileyka to come to a certain place. From there, they took them to a bridge next to the river and murdered them. The few that didn't show up as the German ordered managed to survive. Now many Jews of Kurenets were taken under watch of the police to Vileyka to do different jobs; cutting woods, cleaning streets, Park and other work. I was also taken. One day when I was near the printing place, I found the courage, entered the building, and met Josef. I notified him promptly what I wanted, whispering for him to collect a few letters for me. When I came 3 days later, he gave me a little package with letters, papers, and black ink. We manage to meet few times and eventually I had lot of letters and printing materials to accomplish the mission.
The Germans at that point were not watching us strictly. If they were suspicious of anything, they would just kill us on the spot. That’s why it was doable. My mother helped me. She took piece of clothes and sewed lines on pockets and that’s where I held the letters. In each pocket, I had a different letter. We thought that if there was a danger moment, we could immediately use the cloth as apron and wouldn’t look so suspicious. One day when we returned from Vileyka to Kurenets and I had little package from Josef. The German started taking us to different location. I was very worried, but soon we realized that they wanted to show us something- two gentiles they hung for robbing someone. They wanted us to see what happened to all that disobeyed. After that, they let us go home. When I went home, I saw that they also hung someone in town center 4 robbing.
We dug hideout in the ground and in there; I hid the letter and printing materials. Except for my cousin Zalman, no one knew where we are making the printing material. Even our own troop members did not know. We decided that if anyone would get caught its better if they didn't know where it was. At that time, the house of Nathan, my uncle, also became the center for our meeting. Nathan that sensed that we are doing something dangerous was very fearful. Nathan's wife, Batia nee Ayeshiski was sick, she was in a nursing home when the war started. She tried to go back home, but she died from starvation on the road. Nathan felt very responsible for his orphaned children and was fearful that what Zalman was doing would cause danger to his other children.
At that time the Germans printed flyers to the villagers saying," farmer keep your bread don’t give it to the criminals. They will eat it and then they would hurt you and burn your farm. Keep your bread for German army that released you from communism." As an answer our first flyer was written by Shimon Zirolnik, it said "farmer keep your bread for yourself and your heroic brothers that fight the horrible conqueror. Don't give one seed to Germans. Death to Hitler". We printed about 100 and distributed them in various places. Our Shimon was able to see the first flyer but a few days later Shimon didn’t come to the meeting. We found out he was imprisoned, together with him a non-Jew farmer was taken and also another town's resident imprisoned, our town barber Leibe with the beautiful voice. When he would cut hair, he would sing beautiful songs. After a period, we found out that the Germans murdered them and it was horrible blow to us, We so loved Shimon. If I mention the barber Leibe, I must tell in a few words about him. As I told you while he cut hair, he would sing songs. I still remember one of his songs that he sang in Russian. He would sing it with deep _expression, and it would go like this." I will die I will die they will bury me and no one will know where my grave is and no one will know to come to my grave. But one morning of spring a nightingale would see it and sing." How ironic is the song, could Leibe ever imagine that this song would faithfully tell what was going to occur?
During that time, there was little underground activity in our area. There were rumors the Russian parachuted some troops and they managed to burn many German supply rooms and that’s what the Germans were referring to in the flyers regarding the criminals. Our own flyers were found by Jews from the town and this gave them hope that there is underground. Someone even showed me a flyer. Zalman Gurevitch that had many friends among the villagers helped a lot with the flyers. He knew who should be informed. Moreover, he knew who could distribute it amongst the population.  No Secrets The desire to do something, to fight, existed in many Jews, but the possibilities were close to nil. As far as us, our small group, we were particularly united since we had a similar past with strong ties to the youth movement. Added to it was our being so young and still believing in the impossible. At times we had emotional pleas from older people as well as very young to join our company. I remember how once, Shimon Alperovich, the son of Zishka (son of Shimon), came to the house of Nyomka Schulman when we gathered there. Shimon was much older than we were and he was a very respected person. And now he approached us sounding very worried and not knowing where to receive help. He asked us to let him join our group. In Yiddish he said, “Fragst nit anmir” or “Don’t forget me”. He was almost begging. [Later on he joined the partisans and died fighting.] Also very emotional was the plea of Araleh Gordon, son of Shaptai, brother of Riva and Mikhla, who was much younger than us, still a child. He asked us to join. We said to him, “Araleh, do you have a weapon?” And Araleh naively and with a hint of embarrassment said he didn’t have a weapon at the time but he knew how to play the mandolin. He tried to explain to us that for the resistance there was a need for social life and until the day he received a weapon he could be an entertainer. Until today I feel excitement when I remember his plea. We were sure that our resistance unit was secret and soon it was clear to us that there were no secrets in our world and that many knew about our unit. We still had a very unclear idea as to how we would resist, and many would come to us urging us to take them into our ranks. [Araleh was Gordon killed while hiding from the Germans (in a tree?)]
Chaim Zukovsky owned a tartuk (?) and a mill (for carpentry) that had been taken away by the Nazis, and now an Army officer managed it. Someone told us in secret that the officer was actually a decent man, a unique person who disliked the Germans’ behavior towards the Jews. To us it was an unbelievable phenomenon, particularly remembering our neighbor Shernagovitz, the killer who killed Jews daily, so to find a person among the Germans who was such a righteous person was a true miracle. We were told that once when the drunken Shernagovitz approached the area aiming to torture the Jews who worked there, the German hid them inside a cold boiler and saved them from being murdered. We somehow found out that this German was willing to sell weapons to the Jews. I don’t remember now who gave us this information, but we found out that he was willing to sell a Nagan with seven bullets for ten golden rubles. We gave the money to Yankeleh, the son of Chaim Zalman, so he could give the money to the son of Lazar Shlomo, who had contacts with the German man, and he bought the weapon. When we sent someone to Lazar Shlomo to transfer the Nagan to us, he refused to give us the weapon, so we decided to trick him into returning the weapon. Some of us approached his house at a night hour when there was a curfew. We pretended to be Germans and yelled, “Juden arouse!”
We gave them enough time to run, and when we found out that they had hidden and the house was empty, we put a note where we said if they will not give us the weapon, the consequences would be severe. We sent Yankeleh the son of Chaim Zalman Gurevich, and he also wanted to keep the weapon for himself after receiving it, but after some threats he gave it to us. I point this out to you to show how many wanted weapons so they could fight the Germans.
The Germans kept demanding money from the Judenrat. Some of the members of the Judenrat were dishonest and took some of the money for themselves. In our home there was a new couch and carpet that we bought before the war for my sister Henia who was about to be married. When the war started, Henia’s groom was taken to the Polish Army and died during battle between the Polish and the Germans. One of the Judenrat people who was the very worst among them, knew about the sofa and the carpet, so now he demanded that we should give those things to the Germans who asked for furniture and carpets. My sister Henia was very much against it. These things were very dear to her as a reminder of her dead groom. And she asked that they should be left with her. The Judenrat man slapped her and took her things by force. When I found out about it, I came to the Judenrat and I said to the man, :You must know that we will never let you, a Jew, slap another Jew. It’s enough the way we are treated by the Germans.”
He answered, yelling, “What do you think? Do you think I am afraid of your gun? DO you think I don’t know you own a gun?”
“It is not a secret I have a gun,” I replied and pulled out my weapon. He must not have thought I’d react so fast and he went pale and never came to our home again.
The head of the Judenrat and some of its members were new arrivals from other towns. They were not always decent or honest, and it wasn’t the rescue of the community that was first on their minds. The people who were the public servants before, whose names were famous for dedication and good deeds, like Zalman Gvint and others like him, clearly knew that being a member in the Judenrat meant that having to fulfill the wishes of the Germans, and they could never accept such a job. Zalman Gvint, who was experienced with pharmaceuticals, this time established an enterprise, together with Nathan Gurevich, to make chemicals for soap, shoe polish, and ink. They also suffered much at the hands of the Judenrat, who demanded their products. Leib Motosov had a place in the deep forest before the war that made turpentine and tar. He knew all the little paths in the forest. HE also clearly understood that the Nazis would soon annihilate us. So he came to Zalman Gvint, who agreed with him and suggested that they should escape to the forest, where he knew many of the villagers in the area and he thought that since they were friends they would help him. They started planning their escape. I also remember that my mother in those days talked a lot about leaving the town and escape to the forest. While everyone was planning such an escape, a tragic event took place. Some families who escaped to the forest, among them Zishka Alperovich’s family, secretly from everyone, escaped to the forest, but someone told about them and the mutilated bodies where brought to town. It was a huge disappointment for all that dreamed of going to the forest, and momentarily shocked everyone and caused them to postpone their plans. Nyomka Shulman, who was very energetic and a go-getter, was still full of excitement and plans. He was the leader of our group, and he came with an idea to uplift the spirits of the people. We did something that was dishonest, that we should not have done. We made a pamphlet of encouragement, filled with imaginary events that had no basis in reality. In this pamphlet we wrote that the wonderful Red Army pushed the Germans out of the Polaczek area and soon would free our entire area. We ended it with writing, “Death to Hitler.”
There was a rumor that something might happen in Polaczek, but to say that the Germans lost there was a greatly exaggerated statement. Anyway, the Jews found great encouragement from this pamphlet and conversed about it, especially Motl Leib Kuperstock, who used to have a flourmill. He would stand in the synagogue amongst the Jews spreading the rumors that the pamphlet had come from the Soviets. They beat the Germans, he would tell everyone, and were going through Polaczek. And this had to have been done by planes, he added, and since we were only 120 km from there, it would not take long until they arrived at our area. Motl Leib was very interested in politics and strategies. There was a time when he lived in the US, and he knew how to add certain sentences in English that greatly impressed the people, the residents of the town. Amongst the people who conversed with him, there was someone who took his samples and said he really knew that the retreat of the Soviets was only a trick, and they would quickly show the Nazis their might. For some days they were conversing like this, but there was a great disappointment when nothing happened. We felt bad for what we did and from then on we decided to write only real news.
Time passed and Noach Dinestein (put picture here) from Vileyka joined our group. [PICTURE OF NOACH DINESTEIN]. He was older than us but was once a soldier in the Polish Army. In 1939, when the Germans and the Polish fought, he was drafted. After a battle with the Germans, his unit suffered greatly. He was somehow able to escape and he came back to our area. When the Germans killed the man in Vileyka near the bridge on the Vilia during the first month of the war in our area, Noach somehow escaped from the place and arrived at Kurenets. Here he taught us how to use weapons and trained us in other military operations. The Code Name is Volodia
[PICTURE OF VOLODIA] One day I was told that a Christian person had come to our house and asked for me. She later returned and met with me. It was a young village girl who looked much like a Christian but she was really a Jewish girl by the name of Bertha Dimmenstein from the village Khalafi, a little village near Vileyka. I Didn’t know her earlier and had no idea she was Jewish. She showed me our first pamphlet and said that she knew there was a secret printing press in Kurenets. I was very worried and I pretended to know nothing about it. I continued being worried when she told me she belonged to a group of young villagers who organized themselves to fight the nazis. She said that these young villagers wanted to meet us since they knew we were also an underground unit. She also told me that she had a text that was ready to be printed by our unit. She said to me that if I could print the text it would be proof that they could rely on us and they would get in touch for later missions.
She said she would come back the next day and take the pamphlets and they would distribute it on their own. The text she gave me was very similar to what we had written. It was asking the locals to organize against the Nazi invaders and unite with the resistance. I was very confused and didn’t know if I should trust her. I called my friends for a meeting. Amongst them were Eliyau Alperovich, Itzkaleh Einbender, Zalman Gurevich, Noach Dinestein, and Nyomka Shulman at whose house the meeting took place. We met in the dark room in their home. Once again, the question arose if there was someone tricking us. Some thought positively, some thought negatively. I thought that we should wait for a moment, but Nyomka Shulman finally won. He said that there was no reason to wait, we must print the pamphlet. So, already that night I sat in our hideout and joined letter to letter and after a short time, the pamphlet was ready. I only printed 20 copies. I thought that to prove our loyalty and reliability that this was sufficient. All the time I was very fearful that Bertha would arrive with someone from the authorities, and a big rock came off my heart when I realized she had come alone. I explained to her that I could only print 20 pamphlets. Bertha took it and promised to return shortly. Many years later, when I met Josef Norman in Israel, he told me how Bertha had found out about me. Bertha, who knew Josef from Vileyka and knew that he was working in the printing house, thought that Josef might know something about those secret pamphlets. So when she met him, he told her about me. He knew that she was very reliable and didn’t hesitate to give her all the information. And this was how she found me.
Shortly after, Bertha returned and told me that their unit was ready to join with us for missions. She also told me that eventually they were planning on going to the forest, and there start fighting the Nazis. She also asked me if we had any weapons. I told her that we had only two rifles. I didn’t tell her about the guns. She suggested one of our people should come to them. The meeting would take place in the village Volkoviczina. At the entrance to the village, she said, there was a small building, a Christian prayer house. She said that one of our people should there during a certain night, and there he would call a certain code word which would let him into the house. The code word was Volodia.
Once again, we met. The energetic Nyomka insisted that he should be the first messenger. Nyomka went during a late night hour and met with one of their people. The guy suggested at this point we should keep our group small and not add any members. Most of our energy should be put in collecting weapons and food to be ready to go to the forest. During that meeting the man told Nyomka he must never come to Volkoviczina without being first contacted by them. We would receive orders from them,. And Bertha would be the main contact. Most important, from now on the code word would be Volodia. Nyomka slept there, and the next day, early in the morning, he returned to town and told us all the details. At about that time I was told by Josef Norman saying he could not give me any more letters since they realized that something was not right at the printing press, and they thought something dangerous was going on.
At this point, the Germans only killed single Jews in Kurenets, here and there in small numbers, and life continued like that until Simha Torah in 1941 when they killed 54 Jews of Kurenets.  The Fifty Four During the days in years of peace and quiet are called the Days of the Torment. The synagogues were filled with people praying. Most people seemed a bit frozen. They didn’t scream or cry. To the people on the outside it seemed as if people had put up some kind of barrier, but it seems that in the synagogue, this barrier was broken. The tears and the cries were heartbreaking, and the line of the people who said kaddish for the dead was very long. The people in our group who were secular in nature, also went to the synagogue. The management of the old carpentry mill of Zukovsky called Kopel Spektor since there was something wrong with the main machine there. Maybe now it is time to talk about Kopel. [INSER PICTURE OF KOPEL]
There was something kept very secretly. During the Soviet days, Kopel who was an engineer and an inventor, worked on a machine to automatically load coal to keep train engine fires going. It was almost ready to be patented when the war started. In the train station in Molodetszno, Kopel had a laboratory where he had all the papers that had to do with his invention. During the war between the Germans and the Soviets, he went to his laboratory and burned his papers and inventions so they would not fall into the hands of the Nazis.
Back to that Simha Torah… As usual we went that day to Vileyka. At first walked the women, and I along with the men walked at the back. We passed by the village Zimordra, and all of a sudden, two policemen from Kurenets and collaborators with the Nazis, Pietka Dovsky and Pietka Gintov, who studied with me at the Polish school, appeared and ordered me to return to Kurenets. I felt that there was some danger facing me, so I asked, “Pietka, why do you stop me? We used to be friends.”
“Satan is your friend,” Pietka answered, “Not me. Come with us.”
SO I was brought to town and put in the store of Itzka Leah’s, the place the police now used to keep prisoners. When I got there I met other Jews from the town, amongst them Kazdan, Chaim Zukovsky, Zev Rabunski, and others, more than 20 people. Once in a while e they would bring new prisoners. We looked outside the windows and saw they had collected the families of the prisoners. One person who was with us said he was arrested for the red flag found in his home. During Soviet days, everyone had a red flag, and he forgot about it. Now he was taken to the prison along with his flag. Some of the prisoners started screaming that for this flag, everyone would be killed. They wanted to take the flag, rip it, throw it on the ground and cover it with their shoes.
While talking about it, the police came in and took out ten people. We watched through the shutters as these people were given the hose and marched away. Once again people wondered what was going on. Some said they were being taken out for a job. Chaim Zukovsky, who was badly beaten and depressed said they were not being taken to work, but were being taken to dig their own graves. All of a sudden the door opened and to the room and into it came a German Oberlieutenant who called me by name. He took me outside and told me that I should point to my relatives who were standing outside. “This is my mother and those are my sisters.” I pointed to my mother, Rohaleh, Rashkaleh, and Doba.
“Take them and go home,” the officer told me, and I was ready to do it but all of a sudden he hesitated as if he changed his mind. “Jew, you still need to receive some beatings.”
I lay on the ground in the presence of my mother and sisters, and he beat me many times. Finally he stopped and ordered me to leave. I could hardly get up, and left with my mother Rohaleh. I had no idea why I was taken out of the prison room and separated from the 54 Jews who were residents of our town who were murdered that day. After they got the hose, they were made to dig their own graves as Chaim Zukovsky foretold while we were in there. When we got home, my sister Doba said she saw me being taken out of the people who went to Vileyka and she recognized my life was in danger, so she left the group of girls and ran to Kurenets. As soon as she got home she told my mother what happened. They knew it was a very dangerous situation and they had to do something immediately.
Without hesitation they immediately went to the Polish teacher Mataroz to ask for his help. In town people already knew that the Germans were planning on doing something against the Communists. They decided that my father and my sister Henia, who were known as communists, should escape and take the cows to the meadow. So when they came for them they couldn’t find them home. Rohaleh and Doba asked Mataroz, who liked me very much from when I was student, and who was now the mayor of the town appointed by the Germans, and they told him about my imprisonment. As soon as they left Mataroz, they were taken by the police, as well as my mother and Rashkaleh, and it was Mataroz who decided to save us all from our deaths. Two days later I went to Mataroz to thank him for what he had done. At that point we were all heartbroken over what had happened in town. He asked me to sit down and I told him I could not sit down since my back had awful wounds from the beatings I had received. When I thanked him he said I shouldn’t thank him, and that I should pray to God and stay a human being as I had been in the past, and stay decent despite the tortures that occurred every day.
I was strong in my wish that for thanks we should give him some materials from the old store we used to own. Materials could be used for suits for him and his son. He was very much against it and got mad at me. I was very embarrassed and didn’t know what to do, so I suggested something else. I asked that he should receive our cow since our lives seemed to be pretty much over with or without a cow. He answered that he agreed to take the cow since we had such troubles even trying to take it to the meadow, but he had one condition. He would take it if we would receive half of the milk from the cow each time he milked it. I said to him that this could cause him great troubles as the mayor of a town sending milk to a Jewish family. At the end we reached an agreement and gave him the cow. Secretly, in all sorts of ways, he was able to transfer milk to us. Now I know how he saved me from certain death: after Doba and Rohaleh visited him, he went to the German officer, who was conducting the murder of the 54 people for being Communists. He told the officer of how I helped him during the Soviet days by giving sugar and food to the teacher Skarntani, who was anti-Communist, and that I had helped him when he was very sick and put myself in danger. This proved I was anti-Communist, so I could not be blamed for Communism. The officer accepted his opinion, and this was how I was rescued.
The Jews were shocked at the killing of the 54 who were supposedly Communists. Everyone was talking about how the 54 men, women, and children were taken to the forest of Lovitz, and there they were ordered to dig their graves before they were killed. The Christians, especially the villagers who were present told many stories about the killing, especially the brave stand of Yankeleh Orchik’s (son) Alperovich. When Yankeleh stood at his open grave, he asked the officer who was ordering the killings, “IF you kill me because I am a Jew, there is nothing I can do since I am a Jew and this is my faith. But if you kill me if I am a Communist, you should know the Soviets sent my father to Siberia since I am an anti-Communist. Can you really believe that my father who is being tortured in Siberia is a Communist?” The officer decided to release him as well as his younger brother. The Christians who were watching admitted that Orchik Alperovich was sent to Siberia.
They also told about Tevel Alperovich, the son of Pinhas the butcher. Tevel, who was a very strong and good looking man, was able to escape from the killers but he encountered Volodka, the son of Mishka from the alley. With a hoe in his hand, he hit him on the head and wounded him. Then he called the Germans to kill him. The reason why the Christians would gather in such places to watch the killings was so they could collect their belongings such as clothes, shoes, etc. Some of the Christians would. Some of the Christians would sing while the Jews were being taken to their deaths. They made a song singing, “Zhydi, zhydi, tzerti. Kali vas femerti”, which means “Jews the son of Satan, die already! When? When?” During their singing they would sometimes throw rocks at the Jews and curse them. Many of the Jews in town wanted to believe the Germans; that this murder was meant only for Communists. They were hoping that now all the murders would be done with, but our group, as well as many others in Kurenets, knew that this would not be the end, that it was only the first in systematic killings, and our desire to fight increased tenfold. 
For My Benefactor, Mataroz Once again, I visited Mataroz. Mataroz, in his true nature, was liberal. As far as the Jews, he tried to help, and this was not unknown by the Belarussian population, and they greatly disliked him. One of his opponents was the son of the felcher, Surikvas. There was a certain rumor that the son secretly put in Mataroz’s office a picture of Pilsudski, and told the German police that Mataroz was secretly organizing Polish resistance. The Germans imprisoned him but he was somehow immediately returned to become mayor. [Reminder: the Germans killed him with his family]
I came to Mataroz after he asked me to come to him. He immediately told me that murder is facing me everywhere I go, and that he would try to help me. Further, he said, “You must know that between wishes and ability there is a big distance. I truly wish that all my students will survive, but what can I really do? As far as you are concerned, I suggest you come to the school as a laborer doing cleaning and cutting wood for the fire, as well as operating the furnaces.”
At that point he was no longer head of the school, but since he was mayor he was able to do it. He was also in cahoots with one of the teachers. He still said to me that I must be very careful to be there only when the school was empty of students. I later found out that the person he was in touch with was the wife of Skrentani, who was a teacher in the school. Skretntani himself worked for Mataroz in the municipal building, as head of the food distribution department.
I was told to be in school in the afternoon hours until the time of curfew, when I was supposed to be home. Mataroz said that since danger faced me in every direction, it would be easier to escape from the school in times of extreme danger than from places where Jews were plentiful. Further, he said he would try to get me a special permit was worker of the municipality, so I could work outdoors even during curfew hours. Once again he emphasized that in case of an action where they would kill the Jews, I would have to hide in the school. There would be a greater chance of survival there since it was unlikely that they would look for Jews in the school, there was a huge basement with many secret corners that I could hide in. He also gave me a letter to take to the police which asked for permission to work at night since I needed to clean the school after the students left. When I entered the school I only found Baliznuk, who was known as the most evil torturer. :How do you think this will help you? With such a Jewish face, how to get a permission from the police?” He started laughing.
“Before I would ever get a look at the permission you might receive, I will shoot you with a bullet and the permission will not bring you back to life.” Still, he gave me the permission.
In the school worked a Polish woman that explained to me my duties. She was generally kind to me but she was very fearful that my presence in the school would hurt her. She begged me that I should be very careful and to make sure that no one would suspect that she hides a Jew at the school. Every time she had a hint of danger she would quickly tell me to go hide in the basement.
The first day after finishing my work I didn’t stay at school. I went home with my permit. This was a late night hour, I passed quietly the market, and saw not one living soul; no Germans, no policemen. When I told my friend about it, someone said that even the Germans were afraid to walk around at night and we felt some pleasure in knowing that. I don’t know if it was smart but I always held my gun with the three bullets, but I didn’t know if they were viable. I was thinking that if someone bothered me at night, I would draw the gun and this would hopefully be enough. One night I remembered that I hid a knife in the gardens near the school. I went there and found it, and took it to our cowshed, and there I covered it in a rag and hid it.
Nights passed and no one bothered me. The only person that seemed to follow me with her eyes was was my mother, who stood by the window and looked out from behind the shutters to see if I was coming. Only when I arrived could she sleep. She begged that I stay in the school and not come at night. One night, when I returned home, all of a sudden I heard a shout of, “Stoi, stoi!” which means “Stand! Stand!” I Was very scared that someone was shooting my direction. I went in the gardens behind the homes until I reached the middle synagogue. I went to the central floor where the women sat, and slept. In the morning I came home and found my mother very fearful. As it turned out she didn’t sleep a wink that night. She also heard the shouts and thought that maybe I was killed. The next day we found out that this was a drunk policeman who yelled at a pig to quiet down. When the pig didn’t listen, he shot it. From that night on I stayed in the school’s basement, and only when morning came did I return home.
In the basement I found a small tool that could be used for counterfeit money. I thought that I might be able to use it to counterfeit ID cards, but for the meantime I left it there. Zalman Gurevich was able to connect with Kostya from the village Litvinki. He was the son of Januk. Anyway, he sold Zalman a gun with a few bullets.
The winter of 1941-42, was a very difficult winter. The hope that the so-called Communist Jews would be the last to be killed proved wrong. One day the Germans came from Vileyka and kidnapped some Jews, and demanded they take their clothes off . Half-naked they put them on cars and drove them through town. The Jews in town were told that they must pay large sums of money in order to avoid their killing. The large sums were paid. On another day, the killers Egov and Shernagovitz, played a bloody game. They killed 13 Jews, amongst them the rabbi of the town Rav Moshe Aharon Feldman. He was a gentle soul, pure and honest. His death was very torturous. They broke his arms and legs, and his entire body until he passed away. His body was put for days out in the main market until finally the killers allowed the Jews to bring him to burial. Our group continued to meet, fully knowing that our fate was written and our situation would become worse and worse. As I said before, many tried to join us. Amongst them Shimon Alperovich, who eventually was added to our ranks. When I speak of that, I remember the image of Arczik Shulman [great-grandfather of translator], the father of Nyomka, who was a tanner in his profession. He knew very well what we were talking about in the dark room in his home, but never, ever tried to say anything against it. We felt very much that in his quietness there was a full agreement with what we were doing. One day, Lazar Shlomo said to him, “Arczik, don’t think for a moment that I don’t know that your son came one night behind my home to scare me. You must know that those children, and amongst them your son Nyomka, are playing with fire.”
In those days it was enough for one tiny ember to spark a great fire that could engulf the entire community of Jewish Kurenets. He was referring to the time we demanded that he return the gun that we had bought. Although Nyomka’s father, Arczik, told us about the meeting, he was not complaining. He told it to us only for informative purposes.
Mataroz also arranged for Nyomka to work for the municipality. Nyomka became responsible for the warehouses where the food was stored. During the wartime, the town had no money and payments were done with an exchange of food 
A Tale of a Mouse and a Tartar As soon as Bertha found out that Nyomka was responsible for the food warehouses, she decided that this could be used for our missions, so once in a while, someone would come from Bertha’s group to Nyomka and would take food supplies secretly to Volkoviczina. This took place shortly after Mataroz was imprisoned one day and later released. Bertha told me there were rumors he would be imprisoned again. They found out that someone was spreading rumors against him. Anyway, sometime around January of 1942, or maybe February, on a Sunday that was very cold, I collected papers and put them in a container near the furnace. I didn’t pay attention, but while I Was transferring the papers to the furnace, a big mouse somehow went in and when I threw the papers, he started burning and the smell became horrible. Although I opened the furnace, it didn’t help, so when the students came back on Monday the smell was horrible. Mataroz called me to his office immediately.
“What happened?” he asked me when we were alone. I told him about the mouse, and while we were conversing he told me he heard a rumor that Nyomka was taking certain provisions from the warehouses and transferring them to underground elements. He was worried about the idea of Nyomka putting himself in such danger and not keeping our secrecy well enough. While talking he asked me all of a sudden, “And what about you? IT is clear in such situations you will not be able to continue working in school. Are you also thinking of joining some underground group?”
I was not worried about Mataroz and I was very honest with him. I said I belonged to such a group and I urged him to join us. He immediately answered, “My dear, our ways are very different, and what is appropriate for you is not appropriate for me. Our ways are very different.”
I answered, “Our ways may be different, but our enemy is the same enemy!”
He looked at me with a sad _expression and said, “Go, child, and may God take you on the right route. But remember to be careful and not to burn any mice. To Nyomka Shulman, tell him to be very careful too.” [About six months later, in the summer of 1942, the Germans killed Mataroz and his family
At that point I would stay in school at nights and during the day I would write pamphlets for Bertha. As soon as my mother would see me put my boots on, she knew I was going to a place other than the school and ask me, “Where are you going, Nachum? You must tell me.”
I tried very hard not to tell her and explained to her why it was important she not know. “As I told you before about the time I found the old Soviet IDs in the apartment of Aunt Rashka’s, [which was used as the headquarters of the Soviets from 1939 to 1941], I used one of the IDs with one of my pictures and used the name Hantieb (a Tartar name) and I kept working on saying my name and information in a Tartar accent.”
My mother, who knew of my doings and very much agreed with me that I should help the resistance asked, “What do you need with these fake IDs? They will not help you, they ill only cause you trouble.”
“Look, mother, there is much value in these fake names. If I am killed an they find this ID, they will think I am a Tartar in the service of the Soviets and they will not come to Kurenets to as questions. But in case I am only wounded and they torture me, they might come to you and it’s better if you don’t know any information.”
MY mother accepted my explanation and didn’t ask anymore. The other people with Bertha were Ivan Sirotzin, Basilik, Yorka Balashov, Matyo Kevitz, Nikolai Sirotzin, Sovatz, and Zina Bitzon, all non-Jews. At this point, all we did was print pamphlets and talk about going to the forest. At that point we had already printed 20 different pamphlets. We waited impatiently for the winter to pass, and the dream to go to the forest was postponed..
As time passed, the partisans in Volkoviczina were enlarged. At the head of the group was Volodia [codename], who escaped from the POW camp in Kurenets, and now worked for one of the villagers.
In the month of February of 1942, we were invited to meet the partisan troop. One night Itzkaleh Einbender, Nyomka Shulman, Zalman Gurevich and I, were invited to come to Volkoviczina. We arrived at a small forest at the edge of the village, and there we met with Volodia, the head of the troop after saying the code word “Volodia”. He urged us to collect weapons and to ready ourselves to go to the forest at the end of the winter. He also told us to prepare clothes and food, but to keep everything very secretly. After he found out that I was the one responsible for the pamphlets, he said that they were planning on writing a periodical newsletter, and for that the supplies I had would not be enough, so he urged me to go to work at a printing press in Vileyka, where I might be able to confiscate some more letters. He also urged us to give them all the rifles and weapons we had so they could keep them for us until we moved to the forest. We sat with him for half an hour and then returned to Kurenets. We went in a roundabout way so they couldn’t find us. Through the fields that took us to the forest of Tzavina, and then we separated and each one went to his home, back to the daily tortures of our lives.
Nyomka continued to transfer products to the Volkoviczina group, and Bertha would visit us and tell us news she had heard on the radio about the situation on the front. One Sunday we once again went to Volkoviczina and returned at a very late hour. We used the fields by Smorgon Street and not Vileyka Street. Vileyka Street used to be the street that people took long walks on. It had old cedar trees, and it would take you to Jewish Vileyka. But now there was no more Jewish Vileyka, and Vileyka Street was also out of our reach as Jews, since now the German police was situated there, so we returned home in a roundabout way, and arrived in the village Tzavina. Itzkaleh, Nyomka, Zalman, Yorka Balshov (a non-Jewish partisan from the Volkoviczina troop) and I. Yorka came from the Vostok (the east, Soviet territory). He was a serious young man and very dedicated to his job. When we arrived near the Tzavina village, we heard sounds of singing and dancing. A party was happening in one of the homes. Itzkaleh looked through a window and realized that that amongst the celebrators was Pietka Gintov, one of the policemen who was one of the evil and ugly killers. Itzkaleh came back that this was a good time to pay Pietka what he deserved. He was ready to go in and do the deed. Yorka was very much against it since Itzkaleh would be easily recognized and this would endanger all the Jewish residents of the town. He volunteered to do it, since no one knew him and the town would not pay for it. So he went into the house with a drawn gun, and since he didn’t know what Pietka Ginta looked like, he asked, “Who here is a policeman?” Someone was able to darken the place immediately. Itzkaleh immediately ran, trying to ID Pietka in the darkness, but Pietka was able to escape, as well as well the celebrating people who thought that there was a big partisan troop that had come there. Itzkaleh was at first very mad that he was not allowed to do it the way he wished it, but Yorka said he shouldn’t take it so deeply, because even if we didn’t succeed now, we would succeed later, and even if we didn’t succeed, we learned something from it. We could see that the policemen were scared to death of the partisans, and this was something we should not forget. 
Letters and Shrift teller (?) It seems as if the Nazis would choose Jewish holidays on purpose for their evil deeds. The holy day Purim was approaching, and the cold was horrible that year, but despite the fact that we had no more wood to burn in our furnaces, the idea that the German Army was suffering this cold on the Russian front pleased us greatly, especially since we found out that there were certain battles where they were defeated. But then came Purim, and our pleasure in knowing about the German defeats was eclipsed by our huge tragedy. During that day, the Germans killed the last of the surviving Jews of Vileyka, and many of the Jews were brought in for forced labor, amongst them Jews from Kurenets. The information was brought to us by Zina Bitzon, a woman who belonged to the partisan group in Volkoviczina. She said they would bring workers from Kurenets to Vileyka, and she suggested that this would be a good time for me to be accepted into the printing house in Vileyka. Soon everyone found out about Vileyka, and the Judenrat told us that the German authorities demanded certain professional people, amongst them carpenters, shoemakers, tailors, furriers, metalworkers, and others.
Our family was very worried for the fate of my sisters Henia and Rochaleh, who worked and lived in Vileyka. We knew that Rohaleh worked for the Germans in the post office, and Henia worked for the group of painters by cleaning their rooms and cooking for them. We hoped they had escaped the killing, but soon we found out that they were both murdered. My sister Henia who was so close to me, who said she was ready to wash floors and do everything so I would be able to study and improve my life, was dead. My sisters Henia and Rohaleh, my beloved sisters, who in their lives and in their deaths did not separate. How my heart cried for them. [PUT PICTURES OF ARCZIK? And Henia and Rohaleh?]
My mother, who was heartbroken, begged Doba and I to go to Vileyka and find a job. I didn’t tell my mother or my sister of my plans to work in the printing press. Many of the Jews of Kurenets came to Vileyka to be taken to work. Some of them had no profession but hoped they would be lucky and get accepted there, thinking that might save their lives.
We arrived in Vileyka in the afternoon and we were put in front of the Gvitz Kommissar Schmdit. Together with him was his assistant Handl, who said to us, via the interpreter from Kurenets, Schatz (an Austrian Jew who arrived in Kurenets and was now the head of the Judenrat in Vileyka), “Shoemakers, go to this site. Carpenters to this site. Tailors to this site…”
Handl never once mentioned anything about printers. I was