The Babiarz Family

It was in [19]42. On the first of November, there was the final roundup of Jews. They told everyone to assemble on the market square. They then rushed them off to the train. The train didn't come for two days . They're sitting in this meadow. Well, the Germans see that they will die in this meadow. So, using a few carts they had there, they sent them to this cinema. They were packed in like herrings. We didn't live far from that cinema. For two days, we didn't eat, we didn't sleep - nothing! It affected to badly. It was terrible! Hunger and cold for four days. - two days in the cinema and two days in the meadow. […] so what? [...] Either Ukrainians were the guards or there were our own navy blue Polish police. When a navy blue police stood guard, we did what we could, because the cinema windows were surrounded with barbed wire, we gave it. After all, it is impossible to feed a few thousand, maybe two thousand through a window. Well, at least we could give someone there a drink of water. We came and went there maybe ten times.They rushed up to us saying, "Give me, give me and run away, run away, so that the Germans won't see you."

They came to out home and put us up against the wall. They went through all the rooms and to the, kitchen. "Where is the Jew?" They went to the attic. There was no Jew there. For over a week, my father didn't leave the house. He was terribly afraid. Well, there was no Jew to found. They went, but there must have been some report. They went to a small wooded area and, unfortunately, they found the hideout in a tree. "Yes", he says, "So there's no Jew. So whose is this?" I say, "I do not know. Children play there, maybe they made it." Well, these guards could beat and kill. Well, my father lived only because that devil, Engels, was on leave..

And he, from this cinema, because he was small, somehow he managed to spread the wires, jump out and come running to us. He escaped from the cinema - dirty, frozen and smelly. People were using it as a toilet - it was dirty there. He fell over. My father was in the mill, fortunately, because he would have a heart attack if he had seen him. Mama says, "Wash yourself, quickly, quickly, while my husband isn't here!" And she gave me the key. And behind the road, we had kind of mounds for potatoes. There was no cellar there. He says: "Go and shut him in the mound." We took him blankets there, and this and that. Unfortunately, from November until spring, he remained in this mound. He stayed there. What else could he do?. He did not leave it, because we were afraid. But in the spring, he says, "Halina, I have to go out of here for a while otherwise I'll go crazy." I say, "You have not gone crazy until now, you won't go crazy. It's good that you're alive." "What about my brother?" I told him that he was in the Jewish cemetery. We felt so sorry for him. It was such an early spring. There was a tree behind this mound. There were so many trees were lying there for the house. He says: "I will make a hiding place there. I'll be able to see out a little. Otherwise, I'll go blind." "Okay, make it your hiding-place. You have clothes." Indeed, you see it was there. That's not all [...]. He wanted to crawl out and play with the children in the evening. He played football. People can be so wicked. To this day, I do not know, and my whole family doesn't know who reported him. Someone reported him. And he [...] from this cinema, because he was small, somehow he [...] succeeded in extending the wires, jumping in and coming to us. He escaped from the cinema. [...] Dirty, cold, smelly. People were settling there. There was dirt. He fell. My father was in the mill, fortunately, because he died of heart, as if he saw him. Mama was somewhere in some jackets, something. He says: "Wash yourself, quickly, quickly! Until my is! " And she gave me the key. And behind the road [...] we had [...] such mounds [...] for potatoes. [...] There is no cellar there, he says: "Go, shut him in this mound." There we carried him blankets, this and that. Well, it's from November, it was sitting until spring in this mound, unfortunately. He sat, what to do. He did not leave because we were afraid. [...] He was eating, and dirt was spilling out. And he was lying. But in the spring, he says: "Halina, I have to leave a bit, because I will go crazy." I say: "You have not gone crazy yet, you will not go crazy. It's good that you're alive. " "What about my brother?" I told him that he was in the Jewish cemetery. [...] but we were sorry for him. Such an early spring. [...] there was a tree behind this mound. My mother was buying, so many trees were lying on the house. He says: "I will make a hiding place there. I will see a little. Because I will blind. " Okay, make it your hideout. You have clothes [...]. Well, indeed, even as it went, it was not seen. That's not all [...]. He wants to crawl out and play with the children in the evening. [...] He played football. Which people were wicked. To this day I do not know [...] and my whole family did not know who had complained. Someone accosted.

Actually, the ghetto was kind of temporary. Because, once would Jews come and ask me to take them to the ghetto. I say, "You are in the ghetto." "Well, how are we in the ghetto when there is no fence here?" I say "No, because it was a temporary ghetto." They brought them by train from all over Europe. And they squeezed them into these apartments. For example, there was a family, they had four rooms. Ten families lived there. That's how they squeezed them in. And later they were gradually deported them, because they couldn't manage to burn that many - to burn, because they usually burned.