In an environment of relative freedom it was a lot harder to enforce uniform behaviour and the necessary solidarity among all ghetto internees than it had been in a much more depressing environment in Vapniarka. However, due to the fact that all of us returned to Romania, one could say that we did a good job. All of us survived.
The German units retreated from the front in summer and autumn 1943, and their retreat brought them close to our ghetto. Once, when one of those units stopped nearby, it happened that some soldiers forced their way into the ghetto and started looking for women and girls in order to rape them.
I was in a room with several potential victims. The front door was locked and the soldiers were knocking on the door because they wanted to get in. Since the room was on situated on the ground floor, I climbed out through a window at the back of the building. I ran to the troop commander and told him about the soldiers’ plan in my best German. You have to be lucky sometimes: nothing happened to me, and the commander immediately dispatched a patrol unit to the village to order his soldiers back. The ghetto inhabitants and my friends appreciated these actions.
The local Jewish ghetto population could not leave the confined area, either. Knitting jumpers and other woollen garments was their main income source. Farmers brought the wool and bought the finished products. Everybody was knitting: women and men, boys and girls.
Our Hope of Returning Home
When winter was around the corner and news from home made us hopeful that we would soon be liberated, the village inhabitants observed our preparations for winter. We did not show them that we had no intention of spending winter in this place. Instead, we prepared supplies for the cold season. We pickled cabbage in barrels and baked or dried slices of bread to make rusks. The dried bread was also prepared because, if the front collapsed, we needed to have emergency provisions in case we had to flee in all directions. The collapse of the front could take many forms.
We celebrated New Year’s Eve 1943/44 in the Olgopol ghetto with a cultural program which included spoken group performances relating to current events as well as choral singing. The celebration was modest but successful. In January 1944, we finally received orders to return to Romania. However, our return was interrupted by a dangerous incident.
After a 10-15 km walk, we reached Balta train station where we were waiting for the train to take us home (no cattle trucks this time). While we were waiting, an SS-patrol came past. A sergeant asked us why we were on our way home when German soldiers were still fighting at the front. A fellow-sufferer from Medias, who spoke German well, explained that we were following an order and not acting of our own free will. The word order made sense to them and they left us alone. Soldiers don’t think, they just carry out orders. The man certainly did not realise that he was talking to Jews. This incident could have had serious consequences and could have ruined our efforts to survive for so many years.
The German units retreated from the front in summer and autumn 1943, and their retreat brought them close to our ghetto. Once, when one of those units stopped nearby, it happened that some soldiers forced their way into the ghetto and started looking for women and girls in order to rape them.
I was in a room with several potential victims. The front door was locked and the soldiers were knocking on the door because they wanted to get in. Since the room was on situated on the ground floor, I climbed out through a window at the back of the building. I ran to the troop commander and told him about the soldiers’ plan in my best German. You have to be lucky sometimes: nothing happened to me, and the commander immediately dispatched a patrol unit to the village to order his soldiers back. The ghetto inhabitants and my friends appreciated these actions.
The local Jewish ghetto population could not leave the confined area, either. Knitting jumpers and other woollen garments was their main income source. Farmers brought the wool and bought the finished products. Everybody was knitting: women and men, boys and girls.
Our Hope of Returning Home
When winter was around the corner and news from home made us hopeful that we would soon be liberated, the village inhabitants observed our preparations for winter. We did not show them that we had no intention of spending winter in this place. Instead, we prepared supplies for the cold season. We pickled cabbage in barrels and baked or dried slices of bread to make rusks. The dried bread was also prepared because, if the front collapsed, we needed to have emergency provisions in case we had to flee in all directions. The collapse of the front could take many forms.
We celebrated New Year’s Eve 1943/44 in the Olgopol ghetto with a cultural program which included spoken group performances relating to current events as well as choral singing. The celebration was modest but successful. In January 1944, we finally received orders to return to Romania. However, our return was interrupted by a dangerous incident.
After a 10-15 km walk, we reached Balta train station where we were waiting for the train to take us home (no cattle trucks this time). While we were waiting, an SS-patrol came past. A sergeant asked us why we were on our way home when German soldiers were still fighting at the front. A fellow-sufferer from Medias, who spoke German well, explained that we were following an order and not acting of our own free will. The word order made sense to them and they left us alone. Soldiers don’t think, they just carry out orders. The man certainly did not realise that he was talking to Jews. This incident could have had serious consequences and could have ruined our efforts to survive for so many years.
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