In haze of memories there stands before my eyes my town Disna with its hearty Jews: the pretty, clean houses; the shops, large and small, that sold a bit of everything. The two broad rivers, which cradled Disna. The two broad boulevards that stretched out along the rivers, and where in the evenings the town's young people strolled and the older Jews chatted about politics and breathed in the fresh air.
I recall how our youth, in
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impoverished Disna, strove with all their might to break out from poverty, to reach the goal of a better future life. A large number had to interrupt their studies, as they had to help out financially at home. Still, everyone made an effort and went to study in an evening school or a professional school.
Almost the whole town would gather by the playing field, when our Jewish Disna soccer team would measure itself against another team from a nearby town. I still recall today the best player of the "Commando", Eive Koperman, how quickly he got the ball and stuff it in the opposing goal, and the joyous shouts of the crowd for their favorite player.
The pioneer-scout organisation was very important for community life in Disna. They did a great deal to give the youth ideals in life. Also concrete work for the Keren-hakayemet and Keren-hayesud. At the head of the organization was the tireless Zalman Tsirlin. I recall how envious we were of the first pioneers who made aliyah to Eretz Yisrael: Smirin and Blochman.
How can I write about our Disna without recalling the chedere, the Rabbi, whose rod reached those who didn't know the sidrah; swimming in the "Dishenke" or in the lock between the two rivers, going into the soda-water factory of Idl Soshkavich and drinking a cold glass of seltser water and juice for 5 groschen: eating "pirozhnes" (pastry) for 10 groschen in Alter Rumer's bakery.
Which of us did not run off to Chaim Dod's concerts, who sobbed out the sweetest melodies to his faithful: the tents in the schoolyard; the clown Mordechai Torna; the firemen with the chief fireman. I recall the celebration at the first graduation from the Polish high school with the best student Aharon Beilin, who was singled out for exceptionally good scholarship.
All, all - they are so near to us and engraved in our hearts.
I recall as if it were today the first time the us drove around Disna. The whole town ran to see the bus. For some days afterward the event was the talk of the town Jews.
I think of how each spring the rivers would overflow and our town would be flooded. One such flood, which did a lot of damage, happened in 1931. The whole town lay under water. It was cut off from the surrounding towns.
Still engraved in my memory till today are the Days of Awe in the town: Pesach, Shavuot, Lag b'Omer. Everyone, from the smallest to the eldest, would clean and scour the houses: dress themselves up in the nicest clothes they could, to go strolling over the bridge over the "Dishenke", or on the boulvard. All were elevated: daily cares were forgotten. A holiday mood poured over the whole town.
The youth in Disna had a desire to develop culturally. All presentations and lectures with invited speakers and lecturers from larger cities were filled to overflowing. Even on a work day the youth would run off, some to study in night school, other to a lecture or report and some just to spend time at an evening dance. The day after a presentation everyone would still be heatedly discussing pro and con the opinions expressed by the speaker.
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The adults, for their part, worked hard, to give the children all possible opportunity to study. They wanted to make something of their children. They dreamt of getting a little joy from their children. To our great and general misfortune, that wish was not fulfilled.
Now our Disna is Judenrein. Nothing left but a large grave. The grave is surrounded by sand. A stone with an inscription says: here lie buried the Disna Jewish martyrs -- murderously cut down by Nazis and their collaborators.
Even now after our great holocaust, our enemies cannot rest and insult the only memorial left to the Disna Jews. The grave is often defaced and damaged. Even in death our relatives and holy martyrs have no rest.
Of my large family with many branches, I am the only one left alive. It is my destiny, as the one left alive by a miracle, to remember and immortalize the thought of my dearest and closest: my father, Leiser Ruppa; my mother, Haya-Mina; my four sisters: Dvorahke, Beilke, Nechamahke, Sanke, and my brother Zalman. The German beast destroyed them all.
I alone went went all the way through hell. Survived the Minsk Ghetto up to its liquidation: dragged up to Poznan, where I sat two months in prison: then interned in Bergen-Belsen. In Bergen-Belsen I worked as a slave for a year till the English freed us.
After the liberation I dragged myself back to Minsk, thinking perhaps I would find somebody. But to all of our great misfortune all I found were graves.
In the year 1957 before I left the Soviet Union, I traveled to Disne to the graves of our fathers. I wanted to see my town for the last time, where I was born and passed my youth. Wanted also to say goodbye to the Disna Jews, to my closest and dearest, who lie cut off in a large general grave.
