Trying To Escape

By Sunday morning the war was felt in Wielitzka. War planes overhead and bombed out houses were seen all around. The city was in a frenzy. We arranged for ourselves a horse and wagon and once again we were on our way. Joining the group were my sister Dina, her husband and her in laws- the Hershtals.
The roads of Galicia were jammed with people running, just like us making it almost impossible to go anywhere. So we opted to run to ‘Congress Poland’ - there we hoped the roads would be clearer and thus we’d be able to distance ourselves from the German army. There was a river dividing Congress Poland from Galicia so we rented a boat and lead our horse and buggy across the river.
The first town we passed was the city of ‘Neustadt’ where the son of the Holy ‘Maor Veshemesh’ lived and was called ‘the guter yid from Neustadt’. The Jews from town ran up to us and begged that we should stay with them and not run any further. They said that the zechus of the ‘guter yid’ and his ancestors would protect the city from any harm. We decided to move on, for Neustadt was strategically located at the point where the river we had crossed and a bigger river met and it was an industrial city and in all likelihood would be one of the first to be taken over by the Germans.
By this time the roads of Congress Poland were also full of people, all running away from the advancing Germans. All of the sudden war planes were seen in the sky and bombs started to fall. Everyone ran for cover on the side of the road until the bombing stopped. Coming out of our hiding places we met some people that were also running and among them our brother in law’s brother who also joined the group.
And so we ran and ran passing city after city until we reached the city of ‘Staszow’ which was a big city, but to us looked very poor. In town we met a horse dealer who tried to convince us to stay in town. “Where do you think you’ll run to? Don’t you realize you’re running with a horse while the Germans have trucks and tanks it will be just a short while until the catch up to you. Why go thru all the trouble.” Being that we were worn out and tired from all the running and that the arguments the gentleman had told us made sense we decided to stay in town. The next morning father met a few men that had just arrived from Cracow. They told him what was going on back home, and it didn’t sound good. Any man that crossed path with a Nazi was liable to be taken away. They told us to do whatever possible not to meet up with the Germans.
Not needing to hear more we hitched our horse and buggy and once again we were on the road. A few kilometers on the road we met a group of Polish soldiers who told us that the Germans were right behind us. Being that our horse was well rested we were able to rush and make it to the next town the town of ‘Bilgoraj’ safely. Just after we got there and had a chance to rest, the German army arrived. Being that it was a small town, the German came in to town, put up a commander and the army left town.
Our horse and buggy- our only means of transportaion was shortly thereafter confiscated. We just stayed in the first house possible. Right away there was a decree by the new regime “No outsiders are permitted in town, any outsider most leave now!” Understandably outsiders would be prosecuted.
In the house we were staying in there was a small girl who begged us “please leave our house, because of you our father will be taken away!” A friendly neighbor who heard the small girl invited us in to her home and said “Yidden don’t worry stay by us and whatever happens to you will happen to us, Hashem will help us”. She led us to the basement and we hid there.
After being in the basement a few days we decided that if we are under the Nazi regime we might as well be in our own home. So we were once again on the road but this time we were going home. We were stopped along the way by solders a few times and every time they took whatever they saw. Mother had money hidden, but when she saw the soldiers with their guns drawn she got scared and handed over the money.
Rosh Hashana we spent in Staszow. By Yom Kipper we were back in Krakow.

Leaving Home

By Friday afternoon the army was already retreating. A general explained to us that the army got to the border too late and the Germans had broken through the border. The Polish army would set up the front right here in our area.
Being that our courtyard was surrounded by other houses and was somewhat hidden, the army decided to set up some kind of defense against German fighter jets, in our courtyard. Within a short amount of time the courtyard was full of rows of weapons.
They were randomly catching people and giving them weapons to patrol the streets. Our Mother a"h Hy"d was scared that my younger brother Moshe and I would be drafted into the army. She told us to run from the town until everything calms down.
Our Father a"h Hy"d realizing the possibility of fighting in our town decided that the whole family should escape. Friday night we all left our home town and headed to Wiyellishka, were our sister Dina Hy"d and husband R Yehoshua Hershtall lived.
We left our home and everything we owned, open to the public - available to anyone that would find it. With only a rucksack on our backs we left the town- where our great grand father was the head of the community- on foot.
As we left the city we went into a bar/inn, and heard that in Wiyellishka everything was calm. We hoped that there we would find peace. Motzei Shabbos our brother in law and sister came to pick us up with a horse and buggy and took us into town.

Moshe Ben Yosef Hillel Zatz'al

Late last night 9 Nissen, my grandfather- Moshe Ben Yosef Hillel zatzal, was nifter. A yid that lived through the fires of the holacust and all of his life, with great misiras nefesh for Hashem and his mitzvos. For the six years of the war under the most horrific conditions he and his brother almost never missed a day of wearing Tefilin. That mesiras nefesh never left him. My brother was once carrying his Tefilin casually Zaidy started to scream at him "I was willing to give my life for the mitzva of tefilin- you should at least carry it with respect!". To him mitzvos wasn't something you 'just do' rather he put his very life into doing Hashems will. He wasn't from the six million that died 'Al kiddish Hashem'. He was from the endless number of Yidden that lived their lives al kiddish Hashem. Hopefully we will never have to serve hashem with all our being. How sad is it that we will never reach that level of serving Hashem.
To my holy grandfather do i dedicate this blog- the story of his life.

Chapter 1, Mishlinetz

Our town "Mishlinetz" was quiet and calm, the people happy and content. The Yidden were learned and versed in Torah and chassidis. The Talmud Torah had the best teachers available and tzedokah was a high priority. Being that the folk were chassidsh, throughout the year different Rebbes would pass through and spend a Shabbos with us. Mishlinetz was affluent town- there was a legend in town that before the first world war, some years they couldn't find any poor people to give matonos levyonim to.
Our nice peaceful life in town came to a shattering end.
It started on a Friday morning in Elul of 5699, when we awoke to see the streets streaming with members of the Polish army. Our town was in between Krakow and the Polish- Slovakian border and the soldiers were going to protect the front from the attacking German enemy. For twelve hours they marched though town tank after tank row after row of soldiers. All marching with the Polish pride "We will finish them off quickly, we will soon return home victorious!"