Much has been written about the ghettos and the camps. But each person has his own tragedy in his heart. One could write at great length about this, given the talent. One could write whole books about each case.
I only wish to recall the tragic moments of the Disna ghetto in which I stayed from the first days to its liquidation, so that this may remain as a memorial for later generations, who want to read these pages some time, and want to remember. Since there are only a few people who remained alive, who survived the horrible tragedy and have written a few pages in this book.
My parents lived in Luzhki, but my father's family lived in Disna. My grandfather Asher Drizenstock and my mother Gitel Kunkes lived in Disna.
When the war began
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my father wanted to leave the town. But it was unfortunately too late -- the Germans were too fast for us and they turned us back on the way.
Early the next day, when the Germans came into the town, a pogrom against the Jews broke out quickly. The Germans did not interfere with the peasants and they rampaged for two days, stealing everything they could and beating those against whom they had a particular grudge. They took everything from us, and my father was badly beaten. My brother got his head slashed when he got in front of my father. He also got his hands beaten with a stick.
At night on the next day we all wend out through the fields from Luzhki and went to Disna. Hungry, beaten, and dejected we traveled by night, so as not to be seen by anyone. (It was not permitted to travel at night.) We came to Vulkove and we wanted to go into Disna. Disna had burned, and the fire could be seen from far away.
In a few days we were in the city. The city was a sad sight. Everything had been burned, apart from a few houses left standing, which had survived the firestorm. The Germans had set fire to the whole town, because the Russians had held them back at the Dvina and this was the first fight with the Germans.
After a short time all the Jews were driven together into the ghetto on the other side of the Disienka. They had put together a Jewish Council and Jewish militia. Life in the ghetto began.
It was a horrifying picture, with all the Jews dragging themselves and their possessions into the ghetto. They had left their houses, their businesses, -- everything -- and with just a few things and some dinnerware they dragged themselves, bitter, dejected and resigned to live in the ghetto.
Life in the Ghetto
The Jewish Council registered all young men and women and submitted the number, as the Nazi commandant had demanded. There weree Germans there who sent the Jews off to various work assignments. The men cleaned the streets of the remains of the burned houses; others had duties under the command post. The girls swept the streets, mowed the grass, washed the floors of the high school, where the Germans were stationed.
When it was cooler we were sent to the island to pick vegetables, which the Bolsheviks had planted before the war. We would steal a few carrots and potatoes, onions -- anything that could be eaten. But woe to he who was caught.
There was nothing in the ghetto. The foods people had brought with them were gone. Who had nothing more, had to be content with the 100 grams of flour, which one didn't always get.
It was a hard winter. There was nothing to heat the stove, and no kerosene and no food. In one room three or four families lived. People were very egotistical. Each thought only of himself.
The situation was so difficult, that I decided to leave the ghetto, to bring something back to the house. I also had an older brother, Tsalke, and two smaller sisters, Frume and Gitel. My mother cried. She was afraid I would be shot. I told her that it was worse to die of hunger. I went out of the Disna gheto in the morning and off on foot to Luzhki, 38 km. in frost and wind.
I came to Luzhki without any problem and got into the ghetto, where I was well known. I found my stolen equipment and quietly began to work (my profession
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was ladies' hairdresser). I would send off the goods earned -- bread, potatoes -- to Disna with a friendly Christian, who had the right to enter the ghetto. The Christian Chobrotski, a chauffeur, had helped more than one Jew in difficulties.
But this did not last long. I was reported to the Germans, who were told that I had not been in the ghetto and took my pay in goods. Two Germans came with the mayor, Milevich, and I was arrested. Two days and nights I was locked up in prison alone in a room. Thousands of thoughts swam in my head. I only thought, that as I was still young, just 16 years old, and I had not seen much of life. One doesn't want to die so young.
The second night I heard a noise in the prison yard. "They've come to shoot me." -- I thought. In a little while someone opened the door and the prison warden explained to me that Milevich the mayer had come. He had gotten the order to have me shot in the morning. But as he knew me and my parents, he had pity on me. He ordered that I should disappear in the morning.
It was 12 midnight and the warden told me I should do his daughter's hair before running off. I couldn't eat from excitement, although I was hungry. I only thought about where I should run. Everywhere there were Nazis.
At 4 AM I went to a Christian I knew, gave him everything I had -- German marks, which I had -- so that he would bring me to the Disna ghetto. The goy was afraid, but the money won ... and in addition we had been neighbors and he had known me as a small child.
He hid me in a wagon full of hay and set off from Luzhki. On the way, where there was a German patrol, he warned me not to move. I can still hear the pounding of my heart, I prayed to God that he would help me.
Finally we came to Disna. The Christian went back and I waited till the Jews returned from work and I went with them into the ghetto.
In my absence they had shot 15 Jews from the ghetto, together with them my father Avraham-Hirsh Kunkes, my friends sister Niura Fisman, Yosef Fuks, Shifrah Fuks and her brother, and others whom I did not know.
In the Disna ghetto a rumor had spread that I had been shot in Luzhki. Nobody thought I would come back alive. And once more I was off to work for the Germans at the command post: peeling potatoes, washing, cleaning. After the work I would wait next to their dining room, till they would release me to go home. The Jewish orchestra from the ghetto would play, so they wouldn't be bored at dinner. THe music would play and all the girls would cry, with no shame. We had lost everything -- our lovely days of youth and who knows what would come tomorrow?!
In two weeks I heard that the ghetto in Luzhki had been liquidated. The next day Chane Tsepelovich came into the ghetto and Berl Berson, who had escaped from the Luzhki ghetto. There, in Disna, they had friends. I talked with them, I hadn't believed it myself, hearing the terrible tales. But unfortunately it was the truth.
The next day I ran into the chauffur Chobrotski, who had written to me how the liquidation of the Luzhki ghetto had proceeded. He was very depreessed about what he had seen and warned me that I should be careful, it could happen to us. He said I should escape to the Soviets, that he wanted me to stay alive.
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He gave me a pack of tobacco for my father, whom he admired.
I worked with Berta Dvorman at her house as a hair dresser and she would give me something for my trouble. The Germans allowed her to leave the ghetto and live in her house, which had survived the fires. Her mother, Fanie, died, and Berta and her father made plans to escape from Disna. But that remained a dream.
Also my grandfather died in the ghetto and everyone said that he was a tsadik, he died a natural death.
We, the young ones, didn't want to die. The harder the situation became, the greater our desire to live. We would meet, gossip, discuss, and say we must escape, people should do something, etc. The adults would yell at us, that we were thinking about "vain matters"; that we had in our heads "only silliness".
My brothers also tried to tell Father, that people should not wait, that one should escape from the ghetto. My Mother, a quite, pretty woman, did not want to suffer and run any more.
-- Escape, children -- she said -- I have had enough. I don't want to suffer any more.
Father did not want to leave mother and so we also waited. My younger sister Frume disappeared one day and we did not hear anything more from her. There were rumors that she had been shot in a village near Plisa. Even today I do not know what happened to her.
We would put out a guard every night, so that in any case we would be ready. And the unlucky day came. It was the 5th of June 1943, at 3 AM, when Shifrah Fuks woke us with a cry: "They are shooting in the gheeto!" We ran into the synagogue, on the other side of the ghetto.
I looked out the window and I almost fainted. My throat tightened and I couldn't yell or cry: a line of Nazis and armed militia surrounded the ghetto. Some of us tried to run and had been shot right away. I looked out another window and I saw a woman with a child by the hand, running, and soon she was lying on the ground.
My brother gave me a tug and we began to run to the river, where Bimbad's mill was. A hail of bullets rained over us, my brother yelled that we should run zig-zag, so that they would miss us. We ran up to the river and began to swim to get to the other side. I felt like I was drowning. My boot were filled with water, but my coat kept me up on the surface of the water. My brother helped me swim to the bank.
Wet and terrified, we ran into the forest. Christians were standing on the shore and thoroughly shocked asked what was happening. Some hlped with bread, and encouraged us to run. We ran to the forest. Worn out, we fell down on the grass, petrified, unable to talk, cry, or think.
The firing from the ghetto could be heard a whole day, sometimes we heard the explosions of grenades. From afar we say a vulture: the Disna ghetto had burned.
At night, when it was dark, we went off into the dark night, not knowing what the next day would bring.
After the Liquidation of the Disna Ghetto
Like criminals, we hid out so that nobody could see us. We would walk through the night and during the day we lay hidden in the forest
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in a cemetery and such places. They mustn't find us.
Our first encounter was at 10 km. from Disna. A goy was standing on the pavement, and wanted to stop us. My brother took a big stick and told us to go ahead. He would talk with the Christian. The goy told him, that there was an order to arrest Jews who had escaped from the ghetto. For every Jew one would get a small dose of tobacco and a kilo of salt. When the goy saw that my brother would not be easy to arrest, he said:
-- Go, I will not do anything to you, but be careful.
We went in the direction of the Soviet side. Everywhere there were Germans -- in all the villages and on all the roads. On the Soviet side the Christians behaved better toward us. They would sometimes give us bread and milk, even show us the way to go.
Once we met other Jews from Disna, who had escaped from the ghetto: a father and son. The son's clothes were shot through. The father wanted to return to the Christians he knew. We advised him against it, but he didn't listen to us. In a few days I heard he had been shot.
Later we met Soshke and Yoshke, two Soviet lads, former soldiers, who had escaped frolm the Disna ghetto (one of them survived). The two fellows kept up the courage of the young people in the Disna ghetto. They agitated for escape and wanted to put up a resistance. Unfortunately there was nothing to fight with. They escaped at the end from the burning ghetto; they tolds us that the Jews themselves had set the fire. With tears in their eyes they told of the horrible death and the bloodthirsty attitude of the Nazi killers toward the Jews of the ghetto.
At night, when everything wa sover and only a guard was standing around the ghetto, they went out of the attic where they had been hidden. They scraped along on all fours to the other side of the ghetto and escaped.
Gradually, a larger group of Disna refugees had gathered and we were afraid to travel together. Then we divided ourselves up into a few groups with the idea that each group should head for the partisans by a different route. To be klled, but to be avenged on the spilled blood!
We lost track of the days and weeks. Wandering through forests and swamps, finally after weeks of wandering we found a partisan group. That was a small group, which had not have a lot of weaponry. They did not want to take us into their ranks and directed us to a second group, a stronger one, which would surely take us.
Again we went along. Our feet were swollen, wounded and bloody. Hungry and ragged, we would look for something to eat in the forest. There were already berries, and they saved us. We drank water full of filth and worms. But who cared about that then?
After roaming a long way we thought that we must finally be in the "partisan zone". My brother decided that there was nothing to be afraid of and we could just go into the next village, perhaps we would get something to eat. I had a bad feeling about this and I advised being careful, but the rest were all in agreement with my brother.
We went into the village, and soon a Christian came and asked us where we were going.
-- We're going to the market -- I answered him.
But it looked suspicious to us -- I want to go into a house -- I said
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-- to get some water and maybe a piece of bread
A boy from Disna, Berl, a cobbler, wouldn't let me go. He took the bottle, he wanted to go.
-- Fine -- I said -- you go. I will go another time.
It was less than 5 minutes until we heard yelling and shooting behind us. I turned back and saw the Berl was standing in the middle of the road with two people holding him by the hands and other people on hourses and bicycles running after us. With our last scraps of energy we began to run away. Anybody wherever he could. One man, on a horse, had run me down and I thought it was the end. I decided that only the forest on my right side could save me. I ran with my last force. He was so close that he had almost caught me. I ran into the forest and started to bury myself farther and farther. When I no longer heard any shooting -- I fell down on the grass under a tree. I began to pray God to help me.
A little while later thunder and lightening began. Such a rain came down that I was wet completely through. I thought that Got was angry with the world and cannot look at how people killed each other. I don't know why, I started to believe that God would help me and would lead me farther.
That night I came out of the forest and did not know where to go. I went to a house, that stood by the edge of the village. I knocked on the window and a Christian told me were to go, but was afraid to let me into the house. I went along, not walking, only running, I thought that I would meet somebody from Disna.
The dawn was breaking and I had to hide. I saw a tree and a bush. The village was a little farther. I hid in the bush again and fell asleep so deeply that when the sun had warmed me I woke up. I saw that I was in a Christian cemetery. I waited for the night. I had no fear of the dead men, not like the living.
I started walking again. Into a house by the edge of the village and begged for a piece of bread. Then went farther. I remember one event: in the morning I hid in an empty stable. Tired by walking a whole night, I fell asleep. The stable had no roof and when the rain started pouring in on me I woke up. Then I saw a second stable with a roof at a distance. Yes, I had to go there, the rain wouldn't drench me there. I cautiously opened the door and I saw on the side a bit of hay. I decided to dig into the hay and sleep. Suddenly a side door opened and a startled Christian looked out at me. I started talking with her and she took me in, gave me something to eat, what she herself had. Shie told me the tragedy of her life: the Germans had killed her son; driven her out of her house; her daughter ran off with her husband deep into Russia. I felt that I could trust this woman and I went up on the stove and went to sleep.
To go farther I needed to cross the railway tracks. The Christian brought me to the place from which I could see the way and she explained to me clearly how I should go. She blessed me on my way and warned against all accidents.
I went day and night. More at night -- very litle by day. It was already the partisan zone. Only there were still Germans
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in various villages. I may have gone a few weeks, till finally I knew that there were partisans not far.
I reached them in a village and asked them to let me talk with the commander. After a brief discussion he sent me to a few partisans in another village, where they took me in. The partisans were amazed that I had come through this way alone. They asked me all about my life and decided to conceal the fact that I was a Jewish girl who had escaped from the hands of the Germans.
There I met commissar Drozov. I have much to thank him for. He did not let them send me on missions. He cared for me like his own child. He said that his daughter, who had been shot by the Germans, was like me. When it was possible to cross the front lines, he sent me away with some others. I did not want to go. I hoped that I might meet some refugees from Disna. But an order -- is an order.
-- Go -- he told me -- ift you stay alive and survive everything, you should remember old commissar Drozov.
We crossed the fron lines with a lot of fright and trouble. Finally we were back in the territory of the Russian army. I can say that I was the first one to come from the ghettos, in the city of Taraftsi they sent me to the NKVD, the security office. Everybody came in and recounted everything that he had seen.
When it was my turn, I went in and the officer asked right away:
-- So tell me, you are a Jew?
-- Yes -- I replied -- why do you ask?
-- Is it true, what the papers say, that the Nazis kill all the Jews and they are held in camps? But that is not possible? -- He said as if to himself.
-- True -- I said -- I think, that the papers don't know the half of it!
It turned out he was a Jew from Vitebsk and had left a wife with children, parents, and a family. Tears were in his eyes. He authorized for me a piece of soap, a kilo of bread and 100 rubles. He sent me off to Bashkiria in the Urals.
That was far from the front, and life was normal there. After some months of wandering I reached the Urals barefoot, naked, starving, but with much experience of life, and anxious to begin a new life, to forget the fearful ghetto and the word? Every day on the point of death, not knowing what the morning would bring, but you don't forget that. That was over 25 years ago. I have grown children. You don't forget and you may not forget it!
Among the Disners whom I have met, who got away from the Disna ghetto, there were: Sonia Rositsan with two little brothers; Reuven Memches; Ruvke from Kuranich, Shifrah Fuks; Leah and her son (Shmerl Zalman's daughter); Reisele Abramson; and Yoshke and Foshke.
There is another, translation by Cy Levine, published by Harold R. Kramer, see Kramer Family History, also Dolhinov stories.
It concludes with the following remarks by Harold Kramer, Cheshire, Connecticut, May 22, 1996:
The name Dreisenstock has been mentioned many times in discussions with other family members who are tracing the Kramer family history. It seems that the Dreisenstocks and the Kramers are definitely related. Based on our best information:
- Elke Pesche Kramer was the sister of:
- Nechema Draiza Kramer, who was Cy's maternal grandmother
- Gabriel Kramer, who my great grandfather; and
- Lazar Rubin Kramer who was Ed Cantor's maternal great grandfather.
- Elke Peshce Kramer married Meier Zalmon Dreisenstock of Disna.
The author of this document, Sonia Chernia-Dreisenstock, was most likely their niece or grand niece, but we are not sure. Nevertheless, Cy and I both felt that this story should be preserved for all of our family members to read and remember.
