Advanced Search

Learn About The Holocaust

Special Collections

My Saved Research

Login

Register

Help

Skip to main content

Print

Oral history interview with Sol Einhorn

Oral History | Digitized | Accession Number: 1993.A.0088.111 | RG Number: RG-50.002.0111

Search this record's additional resources, such as finding aids, documents, or transcripts.

No results match this search term.
Check spelling and try again.

results are loading

0 results found for “keyward”

    Oral history interview with Sol Einhorn
    Transcript
    [MUSIC PLAYING]
    Good afternoon.
    my name is Dr. Phyllis Ziman Tobin.
    I'm a member of the Kean College Oral Testimonies Project
    of the Holocaust Resource Center.
    We are affiliated with the Video Archives
    for Holocaust Testimonies at the Sterling
    Library of Yale University.
    Sharing the interview with me today is [? Marcia ?]
    [? Weisberg, ?] and we are privileged to welcome Mr.
    Sol Einhorn, a survivor presently living
    in Springfield, New Jersey, who has generously volunteered
    to give testimony about his experiences before, during,
    and after the war.
    Welcome, Mr. Einhorn.
    Thank you, it's nice to be here.
    Could you, please, give us some sense of your early life?
    Well, I come from a small town.
    It's called a shtetl, name is Gorlice,
    which is in the Carpathian Mountains way
    all the way down South Poland.
    It was on the--
    matter of fact, I was born, my grandparents lived in a village
    about 500 yards from the Czechoslovakian border.
    That's where I was born, and I used to spend my vacation
    time there.
    But I lived in Gorlice, like I said.
    It was a small town, about half Jewish.
    And we lived a normal--
    I mean, at the time I was a normal kid.
    However, I went to public school.
    I went to cheder.
    And I come from a Orthodox background, and I'm Orthodox.
    And we lived there to me, it looked like, more or less,
    as a kid it was a peaceful life.
    How many children were in your family?
    I had-- I was the oldest--
    I am the oldest.
    I had a brother two-and-a-half years younger,
    and I had a sister three years younger.
    And actually, they perished.
    As a matter of fact, I don't know
    whether you wanted the sequence, but out of sequence,
    I lost my brother--
    I mean, later on I found out he was shot
    a week before I got liberated.
    Because we were separated, and he
    was in the [? Bunawerg ?] camp, what they them in Silesia,
    and they were on a march.
    They were marching and I suppose he couldn't take it,
    and he was shot the week prior I was liberated.
    That's what I heard after the war
    from people that were with him.
    Did you have any extended family living with you, near you?
    Yes, in my hometown I had my from my mother's side,
    I had my grandfather and my grandmother.
    I had an uncle [? Martis. ?] He was married, he had a child.
    And I had a--
    it was from my mother's side, and it was an aunt.
    She was the youngest, Aunt Sara.
    She was a sister my mother.
    And she also was married and had a child, and they all perished.
    But as far as family, I mean, my mother
    had quite an extensive family.
    Some of them were here in the United States.
    But there was only one sister, my aunt, she's one sister left.
    She's in old age now, and sick.
    And I have an uncle who is in his 80s,
    also sick but he's in Los Angeles, California.
    From the same town?
    From the same, yes.
    Did you live-- I think you mentioned something
    about living in a two family house?
    It wasn't a two family.
    It was about a four or five family.
    You had apartments, that was like apartment house,
    but it wasn't like we know apartment houses.
    And my grandfather, my grandmother,
    lived in the same building but a separate apartments,
    but in the same building.
    Did you spend much time together as a family?
    Yes, we were very close.
    As a matter of fact, I lived in the street was tanners,
    they were making tanneries, a lot of tanneries.
    Whole street was, it's what's called in Jewish [NON-ENGLISH],,
    means tanner in English.
    And we lived near a river which was
    to us, that was the recreation.
    We had a bunch of kids, the whole street was full of kids.
    And we spent the time on the river and the fields.
    As a matter of fact, between us we tried to physical fitness,
    so we tried to harden ourselves.
    I mean, I'm talking about a teenager 14, 15.
    We used to go in the morning to the river, halfway stripped
    in the wash for the cold water.
    To make yourself strong?
    It was fun-- to us it was fun.
    It was a happy childhood.
    I mean, as far as economically, my father was struggling.
    I mean, we had good times, bad times.
    He was in the building line.
    He was renting a sawmill from the--
    over there, the villages, they had a sawmill.
    He was renting it.
    And what the farmers used to do, they used to buy a tree--
    the surrounding area was all forests.
    I mean, you could go by us you went about a kilometer,
    which is almost about three-quarters of a mile--
    or is it the other way?
    I don't know exactly what.
    It's a kilometer, and you went into the woods,
    and you could go for days just in the woods,
    you were completely.
    So what they did is, let's say in the winter time,
    they used to cut down trees and bring you down.
    Because in the forest there were no roads, so you take a sled.
    And the front of the trunk they put on a sled
    and bring it down with horses.
    And that's how they would--
    my father used to buy that and turn it into lumber.
    And he made building lumber also.
    We had a lot of the certain trees
    they had to be a certain size that they used
    to sell for the coal mines, where they shoring up
    the tunnels, used to do that.
    Then they used to ship it to Gdansk,
    it's called Gdansk in Poland.
    Gdansk, yes.
    It was our port.
    And they used to bring it on these--
    what do you call it, on the river?
    Barges?
    No, not barges, they're made out of the trunks.
    They made-- they're put together--
    Rafts.
    Rafts, out of rafts, and on top of it.
    It was a cheap way of transportation.
    And it was on and off.
    I mean, he had good times, bad times.
    And there were times already where,
    it's about two years before the war, where
    I had to go to work in order to supplement.
    We had some economical upheavals,
    and I went to work for a wholesale place, food
    as a clerk, and supplemented things.
    Was that particular reversal because of the Nazis or just--
    No, no, no, I'm talking before the war.
    Regular cycle, whatever happened, just that things
    didn't go, whatever it was.
    I mean, I didn't know much about it.
    Sort of a depression?
    Well, it was depression.
    I mean, we had food.
    I mean, it wasn't a question that we
    were starving, you know what I mean, that we were hungry.
    This wasn't, but it was hard to pay the rent and all that.
    And we got supplemented by my mother's family,
    which was in the United States.
    They used to send us me and my--
    let's say my grandfather they had a farm.
    There like I told you the village near the Czechoslovakia
    border, it was called Radocyna.
    And they had a farm where they had two cows.
    I still remember the [NON-ENGLISH] names.
    And I used for the vacation it was our best times.
    We used to go out on vacation.
    And we pitched hay and we put the bundles together.
    And I believe in 1932 they had a fire, where
    the whole thing burned down.
    And it was part of it, he was the only Jew in the village.
    And it was part of anti-Semitism.
    He had a general store there.
    So at least while he was there he had the milk,
    so we used to get the milk and the cheese
    because we always had farmers come to the market
    every Tuesday.
    So used to send us milk, cheese, you cream, whatever it was,
    and they helped out.
    1932 he came over and he lived in town, because after the fire
    he lived in town.
    So things were hard.
    As a matter of fact, part of it being
    that he lived in the village it helped us during the war
    when they formed a ghetto and we weren't allowed to go out.
    You weren't allowed to go outside of the ghetto.
    Naturally, you couldn't get staples.
    So that helped us because we had the people that he knew from
    before, the farmers, they helped us in that much
    that as they were passing by in the street,
    let's say we had a big gate, and you opened the gate let's say
    and they threw down a bag of potatoes, or beets, or carrots,
    whatever.
    We would pay them for it.
    That was the difference between life and starving.
    They helped us.
    These were Jewish or were non-Jewish?
    No, no, no, these were farmers.
    Non-Jewish?
    They were not exactly deep Russian farmers,
    but we called them [NON-ENGLISH],,
    that's part of like Russia, but they weren't actual Russians.
    But they were regular farmers, and we paid them.
    So let's say a lot of them were there before the war.
    They used to come here like they still do it today.
    They used to come to the United States
    for three, four years to work on farms in order to make money.
    And they came back with dollars, dollar bills.
    So during the war they had to change them,
    so they used to come to us and we
    used to change it like a black market.
    They gave us the dollars we gave them the Polish money.
    So it was every little bit helped in a way.
    And that's why when they used to bring the--
    so we had the food, we had what to eat we had.
    It wasn't just special stuff.
    What did your mother do?
    My mother was a housewife.
    That was--
    She didn't help in your father's business at all?
    No, no, no.
    My father's business was out of town.
    I mean, he used to go away for--
    let's say he used to go away for the week.
    Sunday or Monday and come back for Shabbat back home.
    But it wasn't a business in town.
    It was out of town.
    How old were you when you first knew you were in danger?
    They-- it was--
    And how did you know?
    We didn't know.
    It was just that the war broke out.
    I mean, we heard it was--
    we heard he took other countries.
    We knew the Germans are on the move,
    and we saw the preparations by us
    against the Germans, which was a joke, I mean, in hindsight.
    The street where we lived, the Poles came
    and they put in two or three logs across the road, two
    or three wood logs.
    And that was supposed to hold back the--
    The Wehrmacht.
    --the mechanized army.
    Or they had the artillery with horses with everything,
    and that was supposed to hold back--
    About how old were you when they--
    Well, I was 17.
    17.
    17.
    And--
    What were you doing at that time?
    I was at school.
    I was in cheder and I was working already part.
    Also, we had a group of a bunch of boys,
    like I said, that we learned--
    I was telling you about the irony of it.
    I had papers to come to the United States as of September
    '39.
    September 1st broke out.
    What happened was, my Aunt Sara that I alluded to
    before, she had papers.
    And her sisters and my family they sent their papers
    to come to the United States.
    In the meantime, shortly before she got
    engaged and she got married.
    So naturally, her plans were to stay.
    I mean, nobody expected anything.
    It was a normal life.
    So we switched over the papers to me.
    They made them out to me, and I was
    scheduled to come September '39 to United States.
    September 1st, the war broke out.
    So that was-- the Warsaw Consulate was closed.
    And a little while later, I get a letter from the American
    Consulate, I don't know from where,
    but they told me if I can make my way either to Berlin
    or to Austria then they'll ship me right out
    to the United States.
    There was no way.
    I mean, you were going into the lion's mouth.
    It was out of the question.
    As a matter of fact, I had to destroy all the papers,
    because it was a death sentence if they knew about it.
    So it was and irony, but thank god it was--
    so matter of fact, in Poland we were like the Three Musketeers.
    We were three boys that we were raised,
    we went cheder to school together.
    And one of them went--
    his name in [? Eric ?] [? Perleman, ?] he is
    in Connecticut.
    He lives in Hartford, Connecticut.
    He in 1938 he went to the United States,
    and I met him later in Germany.
    He landed in Italy, and he found out that I was alive,
    and he came to see me.
    How did he find that out?
    Through UNRRA, or American soldiers?
    It was-- yes, because after the war, when
    I got liberated-- yeah, I started
    to say before, we were a bunch a group of boys.
    And we were reading and all that,
    and we had the two Berlitz books, one was the red cover.
    The other one is later on, the green or the blue cover.
    So we used to get together and learn English,
    [NON-ENGLISH] table, then chair, that's how you learned.
    We were very good at spelling, that's
    how you learn how to spell it.
    And I spoke fairly well English before the war hit,
    which was very useful.
    From Berlitz books?
    From the Berlitz books, yes.
    And later on, when I--
    How did you get to the Berlitz books?
    And how did you--
    Well, we got them.
    It was-- we got them.
    Was there a library in Gorlice.
    You had libraries, you have libraries, you had libraries.
    And I mean, we weren't backward.
    In my town we had houses with the elevators.
    As a matter of fact, it was one time
    when I came already, after the war when I came to the United
    States, I don't remember with whom I came,
    but we went to a building someone.
    And I come to the building with the elevator, and I go
    and I press the floor.
    And he looks at me, people had a tendency
    they thought the refugees that came
    in 1920 that progress-- we didn't
    have any progress over there.
    So I say, I'm used to it.
    It was an elevator.
    I knew how to operate an elevator.
    As a matter of fact, I was always mechanically inclined.
    We had the sawmill that we had.
    So we had one which was a steam generated,
    and we had one primitive on a water wheel.
    But the steam generated sawmill, I knew every little thing,
    how everything works.
    I was a youngster, about 14, 15, I knew everything how it works.
    It was always an interest, so I knew those things.
    But we were a group, and we learned.
    We tried to keep up with it.
    Later on, when we came to the--
    in Germany, after the liberation,
    I started to work for the UNRRA.
    And I spoke English, and then I went to--
    I worked for the 58th field hospital in [PLACE NAME],,
    but I'm jumping the gun.
    Yeah, let's go back a little.
    What are the ways in which your life changed?
    Now, when the war broke out, to us it came as like an upheaval,
    like a tornado.
    So we heard rumors what the Germans are doing,
    so everybody was running.
    We were running so we were a bunch of group of boys,
    and we left home.
    As a matter of fact, my father wasn't home.
    He was, I think--
    I don't know where he was, whether he
    was at the sawmill or--
    I don't recall.
    He wasn't home at the time.
    I know I left without my father seeing me off.
    And we were a bunch of boys.
    We left, we were gone about a week
    going towards the Russia, frontier running away
    from the Germans, let's put it this way.
    And we ran as far as-- before Przemysł.
    In other words, Przemysł would have been the next stop.
    And the last night we found out that the Germans caught us.
    In other words, they were way ahead of us.
    The next morning when we got up we
    knew we already were out of the German occupation.
    There was nowhere to run anymore.
    We found ourselves, it was a mountain,
    we were on this side of the mountain.
    On the other side of the mountain was a place called
    Dynów which was a very famous massacre occurred over there
    by the German occupation forces at that time.
    And we were, again, it was the guards
    had we were on this side of the mountain,
    and so we saw there was no use anymore.
    And during the-- while we were running
    you slept wherever you could.
    And one particular place the only place we had to sleep
    was in a stable, and I could tell you one thing,
    the rats were all over us all night.
    Who was running with you at this time?
    A group of boys.
    I don't know how many, maybe seven or eight boys from town.
    You all left your families and ran together?
    Yeah, we left the families and we ran.
    Kids, we ran, we tried to run away.
    And where did the Germans catch up with you?
    Well, they were already [PLACE NAME]
    we found out already.
    We were under the occupation.
    There was no where to go anymore.
    So what do you do next?
    You go back home.
    So we made our trek back home.
    When I came, and the first thing I came home, I opened the door,
    and my grandfather opened the door
    and I did not recognize him.
    Because I knew when I left he was a man, he had a beard.
    Over here it was all the beard taken off,
    all shaved, all cut up.
    I did not recognize the person that was my grandfather.
    What had--
    How long was the time that you had not seen him?
    Well, it was I would say about two weeks.
    But because the Germans, when they saw the beards right away
    they kept pulling on.
    So a lot of them they didn't want to shave--
    cut off the beards, so they used to put up a kerchief.
    Like in Europe when you had a toothache
    and they think it was swollen--
    I don't know if you saw it.
    They put up a kerchief, that sort of thing.
    That's how they wore, but he cut off the beard and to me
    it was a shock.
    So you were home after two weeks?
    So I was home back after two weeks.
    And then we started already--
    there was no ghetto yet.
    The only thing was they started the forced labor.
    In other words, every morning you had to go,
    and they had the occupation forces.
    They were in certain places, and our job
    was to go clean the latrines, amidst the jeers
    and the encouragement that they gave us.
    The Jude, all the invective what they could
    throw at us, Der faule Jude.
    This was all in German?
    German, yeah but--
    You understood?
    It was humiliating?
    Humiliating, but German--
    Yiddish and German we knew that much.
    We learned very fast.
    As a matter of fact, I learned to speak German,
    which I spoke quite fluently believe it or not,
    from Der Sturmer.
    You heard of Der Sturmer?
    That was the Nazi paper, and I used to read it.
    To us, it was-- we used to buy it and read it,
    and that's how I learned German.
    With all the invective, I mean, it's--
    and the hitting us and coal, we had
    to lug coal, light the stoves, clean the streets,
    shovel the snow.
    I mean, all the menial, the hardest labor,
    I mean, the real dirty work which for us, I mean,
    as a youngster out of this we were not used to those things.
    And it was--
    I mean, you had to do it.
    I mean, it wasn't--
    you really had to produce.
    And again, hitting and all that, and it's--
    Where were your parents while this was all happening?
    Well, they were home.
    They were home.
    But we tried as much as I could, between me and my brother,
    we tried to shelter.
    The women didn't have to go.
    But I mean, my father was-- every able-bodied man
    had to go.
    So what we used to do, we used to take his place
    and do the work for him.
    So it was--
    Now, you mentioned that you hauled coal
    and you did all the menial jobs.
    You weren't paid for any of this?
    So how did you get food?
    We were food-- food you had to do the best you can.
    There wasn't a questions of pay.
    They weren't paying--
    There wasn't any way of buying it.
    That was it.
    Then they started there were building roads.
    They used to take us out of town.
    For one time I worked in a brick factory,
    we used to make bricks.
    Then they took us to fields.
    We had to pick potatoes or take out the weeds, all that.
    It was you had to stoop down and all that.
    If you're not used to it, that was a backbreaking job.
    You couldn't get up.
    And again, under the whip, and under the psychological terror
    and everything.
    And every time they with all the invective all the time.
    Then they started to take us out by truck the distance.
    They took us in the mornings, and over there,
    and we were building real with the old fashioned way.
    No machinery, you had to take the picks and dig up the earth.
    And they used to come over there with this stone
    and they had these rollers that they used to do.
    And you had to do it.
    You have to make a certain way, a certain amount of day.
    You couldn't-- there wasn't a question how much you do it.
    You had to produce so much, otherwise you were beaten.
    And it was early in the morning and I could tell you one thing,
    we used to do-- we used to take our phyllum with us,
    because when we started out it was very dark.
    And on the trucks we used to daven.
    Before that it was you're living--
    Your whole group--
    You didn't give it up.
    You were all Orthodox?
    Well, whoever was-- most of it.
    The shtetl was-- it was very, very few that weren't.
    Most of them were.
    And how long did this go on?
    Well, this went on--
    also, by that I mean, there were no-- the synagogues,
    everything was closed up.
    So we had in our town and every street
    had you used to go through the alleys.
    We used to sneak on Shabbos and the Friday night
    services or holidays, we used to hold it there
    by somebody in the home on a sneak.
    You couldn't do it, it wasn't legal.
    But we still kept up.
    And this was going on-- it was progressively worse
    getting there.
    Then they went and they formed a ghetto.
    I think it was, if I recall, about a year later
    they formed a ghetto.
    It just so happened that where I lived
    we were part of the ghetto.
    So at least we weren't uprooted, but we
    had to take in the families.
    And let me tell you something, there
    was all psychologically all figured out.
    Because I'll give you an example, just--
    By the Germans?
    By the Germans.
    I'll give an example.
    Your own family, let's say, if you have to,
    if your daughter-in-law comes to live with you for four
    weeks I mean, there's always little by little
    you get friction.
    I mean, it's family and everything, you get friction.
    She cooks like this, you cook like this, and then especially,
    if you have to cook on the same thing
    because everything was rationed.
    You didn't get wood, you didn't get anything.
    So it was part of it, and then the lifestyles and everything.
    You're cramped in the same--
    don't forget, we didn't have special bedrooms.
    Over here every child has got a bedroom, or a boys.
    Over there you lived in three rooms
    and you're a family of five.
    I slept in the kitchen on a straw mattress.
    So you can imagine, and then you got to get another family.
    It was quite--
    So there was dissension and trouble?
    Dissension, it was trouble between ourselves.
    You couldn't help it.
    It was part of it.
    You're using too much heat, too much wood, those things.
    Because everything was-- you were living, couldn't get it.
    You couldn't go out and buy it even if you had the money.
    It was you have to get by, tear things apart, and all that.
    So all this, it's little things but in everyday life
    I'll tell you something, we have in the Chumash,
    in the Five Books of Moses, God says if the Jews will not
    behave he gives a curse.
    One of them it says, "You'll eat and you will not be full."
    Let me tell you something, from own experience,
    if you don't know where your next meal comes from--
    because if you know oh, if I don't have it
    I'll go out to the grocery and buy
    the can food, whatever it is.
    But if you don't know where your next meal comes from,
    if you fill up your stomach full a minute later you're hungry.
    I'll give you an example.
    We went through a gasoline crisis,
    where we had the gasoline crisis.
    Here?
    Over here, yes.
    Right.
    People were lining up for it.
    You could have a half a tank.
    You had a half of tank of gas, yes?
    But if you had a gas station they
    were giving five gallons of gas you
    were running, because you couldn't get it.
    I mean, if you put it in perspective--
    That's a good analogy.
    I'm telling you the analogy, because you don't realize it.
    If you don't go through with it you tell a story,
    you could always say a person who
    has got a full stomach will never believe a man
    or a person was hungry.
    If you weren't there you cannot get the feeling.
    Of course.
    And the same thing I always get, when
    I used to go tell people, as far as the Germans
    and treating the Jews, the first thing
    you got to keep in your mind if you can't pass that stage you
    can't go further.
    If you can imagine that a Jew to the German
    was like a cockroach in the United States.
    If you step on a cockroach over here, if you step on it,
    you don't think--
    he doesn't mean anything to you.
    The same thing in exactly the same thing the Jew
    was to the German, a cockroach.
    Because he had the right, which happened many times,
    and certain I remember one particular Shabbos
    we had a hiding place.
    We used to make around that we had a hiding place someplace.
    One particular Shabbos we found out later
    that they shot 12 or 13 people in my area.
    In other words, the German had the right if he saw me,
    any Jew, if he saw on the street,
    he could go over to you calmly, take out his revolver,
    and put it through your head, and shoot you down
    like a roach.
    He didn't have to fill out a form.
    He didn't have to go to the police
    to do-- nothing, absolutely nothing.
    It was a free for all.
    Did you personally witness some of these incidents?
    Yes, I saw.
    As a matter of fact, I mean, I don't know if--
    I'll tell you later in the--
    when I was in the camp.
    But going back, but I say I want to stress that point.
    It was just exactly like a cockroach.
    As I said, if you can pass it through your head
    then you can imagine.
    Otherwise, it doesn't mean anything.
    So that was it.
    So like I said, it was the ghetto.
    And we used to--
    we had a lot of dealings with farmers.
    And we lived near the border, so for a while
    until the ghetto came, in other words.
    Because once the ghetto came where it was either
    the death penalty.
    If you stepped out of the ghetto it was the death penalty.
    Before then, we used to dabble a little bit
    and we used to smuggle.
    In other words, we had farmers that lived on the border,
    and we knew them.
    They used to go over Czechoslovakia,
    and we used to smuggle to bring in like they we
    used to bring in leather for soles, hard leather.
    And it was every little bit helped.
    We used to sell it because people needed it.
    People had gold and silver and all that,
    and they were trading it in order
    to-- they were pawning it.
    Whatever it is you're selling it in order to turn it into food.
    So we were able to do those things.
    We used to bring in kerchiefs, beautiful for the women, that's
    for the farmers.
    The beautiful designed kerchiefs over there
    was special kind from Czechoslovakian.
    That helped us to supplement.
    Every little bit helps us.
    So that was it until the ghetto came.
    When the ghetto came it was the death penalty, that was it.
    And we had to live for whatever--
    Did you ever do business with the Germans
    selling them things?
    No, no.
    Nothing?
    Well, first of all, I was a youngster.
    I mean, I didn't know.
    But some of them did.
    I'm not too familiar with that aspect.
    How long were you in the ghetto?
    Well, in the ghetto we were--
    I was there until July '42.
    And in July of '42 they gave an order,
    and they told us we should all gather together.
    We had to pick--
    well, we had two places.
    One was a marketplace where they used to have the things.
    Then we had another place where the shuls around,
    and the shuls were there.
    It was called [PLACE NAME],, it was a big gathering place.
    It was also part of the marketplace.
    We all gathered over there.
    We didn't know what it was.
    I mean, they just gave the order.
    All of a sudden, they came and they picked us,
    they picked about 200 of the young able-bodied men,
    which was me and my brother.
    We were also among us.
    It was on a Tuesday, I remember, the afternoon.
    And we all had to crouch around in the middle
    like, we were already under guard in the middle like,
    and the rest of the people were on the side.
    What they did give us time for the parents
    to go home and bring some stuff.
    And at that time one of the people that were picked,
    I don't know what happened.
    We had to be crouched, we all had to be crouched.
    In this marketplace?
    In this marketplace, we had to crouch.
    Squatting or sitting?
    Squatting or sitting?
    Squatting more, squatting or sitting, I mean,
    was more squatting.
    One of us, it was a little older guy,
    I don't know what it was but what happened was he
    got up for whatever reason it was.
    When he got up there was right nearby there
    was in the back of that fence, there was a man.
    A matter of fact, I remember like today that particular day,
    it was a guy that lived there, a non-Jew.
    His name is [? Szapulski, ?] he was
    a carpentry like furniture man.
    He had a place, a yard, and it was a fence.
    The Germans took the Jew over there right behind the fence,
    and we heard a pop.
    That was it.
    Because he got up?
    Because he got up, just like that.
    So you can imagine what, I mean, what a trauma.
    You go to meet each other and this was number one.
    Then so they brought us some clothes,
    whatever they could bring us.
    And then they took us right away to the railway station.
    They put us in boxcars, and they said that they took us
    to labor camp.
    It took us about three days, and we went to the Kraków-Płazów it
    was called gulag Płazów.
    It was [PERSONAL NAME],, he was the kommandant.
    How many people from your town went,
    or was it an evacuation of the whole ghetto?
    Was it an evacu--
    No, no, that was the first transport
    of labor, which was about 200 people.
    Your whole family?
    Hmm?
    Did your parents go with you?
    No, no, no, no.
    These were able-bodied people?
    Only me and my brother were picked as far,
    but we were mostly young teenagers.
    That was mostly it.
    Then about four weeks later they brought another group of 150.
    And for a while we were able to correspond,
    we were able to get some mail.
    Because in the beginning we worked in the Plaszow
    we worked--
    it wasn't the Gestapo.
    It wasn't under the Gestapo.
    It was more or less like--
    it was called a labor camp.
    And we had firms where I worked for the Siemens Bauunion.
    It was a German outfit.
    You have today over--
    they have Siemens Bauunion, they have Siemens Electric.
    They were doing-- what happened they
    were doing construction work.
    They were the contractors, and they
    were given by the government, they were given the labor.
    So we worked for them.
    And supposedly, we were getting paid.
    We were getting paid, but we never saw the money
    because we had to pay for the room and board, whatever
    for the food.
    The company--
    So we didn't see.
    Company arrangement?
    Company arrangement, we worked for them.
    Over there I worked--
    we were working on the river Vistula River.
    It's largest river.
    We were building a railroad bridge
    from girders and all that.
    So naturally, you have all these tractors and other things.
    And you have to--
    we have pile drivers to make the bases for the case
    on, to hold the river up.
    And so I was working for there were
    about four or five Germans, they were working also
    different outfit.
    They were working the pile drivers.
    So in a way I had it a little better
    because they were lefties.
    They weren't Nazis, per se, they were leftist,
    they were left leanings.
    And they treated us a little better, whatever they could.
    In other words--
    These were Nazis with leftist leanings?
    They were Germans, but they were left leanings.
    They were a private outfit.
    I see.
    They were more engineers than soldiers?
    More engineers, they weren't soldiers, per se.
    They were engineers, so they gave us a little break.
    In other words, we were a group about six kids, six youngsters.
    They are working the pile driver,
    and we had to do also clean the machinery, oil it,
    grease it, all these things.
    So it was a little better.
    They gave us a little food because we were hungry.
    In the beginning, they were giving us food,
    they were giving us the rations every day.
    Whatever the rations were, but they
    were given every day the camp.
    Later on, they were giving us a loaf of bread
    for a week, a small loaf of bread for a week.
    How do you keep a loaf of bread for a week?
    I mean, you're hungry now.
    I mean, you don't care.
    But the more I thought that was very bad.
    And sometimes we were able to go out
    and we were able to supplement if you found a field, cabbage.
    I remember the day you had to be you had a knife,
    you used to cut out the bottom, the real thing.
    And that was life sustaining.
    I mean, every little bit helped because you couldn't
    take the whole cabbage.
    You couldn't take it, so you cut out this here.
    Now, the first shock we got by coming to the place, when
    we came into the labor camp, when we came we
    had to be lined up four deep in a row, four deep.
    And the Nazi came and they came over to us,
    whoever has any money, any valuables, whatever you have
    anything of value, give it up.
    So normally, I mean, talking hey, what do you do?
    You give a little and you leave a little.
    I mean, that's the common sense.
    OK, so whatever it is we gave.
    Right after that he went over and he went over to one
    and he took him in front of us, empty the pockets, strip.
    As soon he found something, pow.
    OK, what do you do next?
    You give up.
    Yeah.
    Sure.
    I mean, there were some people maybe they had stamina,
    but that's what we did.
    So that was another lesson.
    I mean, everything was you look in hindsight, everything
    was pre-planned.
    They knew exactly the psychology and how
    to go about it and everything.
    Don't forget, I mean, they took us--
    we were I mean, innocent kids.
    I mean, you were brought up--
    we weren't even brought up today.
    You get an education over here you afraid of a mugging,
    afraid of this.
    Over there you didn't have those things.
    You didn't know.
    You didn't know anything.
    We were babies in the woods.
    So they were very methodical about everything?
    Very, very methodical, yes.
    So that was another--
    And how long did you stay in that particular labor camp?
    Well, over there we came in July '42.
    In 1943 we had a typhus epidemic broke out,
    typhus epidemic by us.
    The camp was about 1,200 people, the labor camp.
    And with the typhus epidemic, I think, more than half died.
    Now, I was one of the first ones to be sick.
    Now, you run a very high fever, very high temperature.
    And you weren't able to go to work.
    And also, I was one of the first ones,
    we were getting-- in other words, it started.
    And as it started, it progressed more and more
    because it was infectious.
    So I was the first class to be felled by it.
    And the first ones of the bunch to recover.
    And as a result of the recovery, I was deaf for three months.
    That was the effect.
    I asked doctors that said for three months--
    They had doctors?
    No, no.
    But I mean, later on.
    Oh, now.
    I see.
    I asked over here, because I was talking about.
    That was the effect of it, I was completely deaf.
    And also, I lost my equilibrium.
    I was going like a drunk.
    And I knew as soon I started walking I knew
    I couldn't go back to work.
    Because if I would have go back on what they call on [GERMAN],,
    I would have been finished.
    I wasn't able.
    So they look for volunteers to be like male nurses.
    They needed somebody to do, so I volunteered.
    Because the advantage of it was I had more food.
    So matter of fact, before I got sick everybody had a locker.
    A little locker, a little box where you kept it.
    I remember we had the round breads,
    and I had a little piece, like an eighth of a bread.
    And I was sick for about at least two weeks or three weeks.
    I couldn't eat anything.
    Couldn't eat but just a little soup and everything,
    and the bread later on when I got a little better
    the bread was hard as a rock.
    I remember like today vividly, I took the knife
    and literally cut pieces put it in my mouth and melted it.
    And it tasted, believe me, like the best thing.
    So that was-- so again, the advantage was that I had--
    I was in a place, I didn't have to go to the [NON-ENGLISH]..
    And I had a little soup.
    And a lot of them, we were getting a certain amount,
    let's say, for so many portions for the people.
    Most of the people they couldn't eat.
    We tried to feed them, they couldn't eat.
    So what we did whatever was left over you had friends,
    and we asked the friend leave it.
    And we gave them the soup, which helped them
    to supplement, because for the little bit that we're getting.
    It helped a lot.
    Now, during that, while I was a male nurse, so naturally,
    we had the epidemic.
    And a lot of them they became so wild.
    They were running out of bed.
    They were running to the wire, to the fence.
    They were really in delirious.
    We had a lot of them we had to strap--
    bind to the beds, they shouldn't run away.
    Then came two German doctors came in uniform, two Germans.
    The doctors came, and they came over to me in my room.
    They asked us, the male nurses, which
    ones are the most serious people about delirious, whatever.
    We didn't want to--
    you don't want to point the finger to,
    because I had an idea what it was like.
    So I said there is nobody actually more
    than-- in other words, we didn't give it to them.
    So all of a sudden, we saw they picked out two or three
    or four, whatever it was.
    They picked out and we saw they gave them injections.
    They gave them an injection, and they went over,
    they left instructions with us.
    They're going to be in a kommandant's office, which
    was the gate kommandant.
    And we should note this if you notice anything unusual,
    we should let them know their reaction.
    And it took within an hour and a half to two hours the people
    were in unusual convulsions.
    Within two hours they were dead.
    So we had to report that.
    So then we figured things out, they were doing experiments.
    Now, later on-- so this killed off about a half
    of our labor camp in 1940.
    This typhus epidemic?
    Typhus epidemic.
    While this wasn't finished, the typhus epidemic wasn't finished
    yet, we got the-- what do you call it--
    dysentery, right away.
    So we had already we had established two rooms.
    One was for the typhus people, and then was the dysentery.
    We had to separate them.
    In the middle we had a basin of water,
    like for some disinfection what they gave us, supposedly.
    And when you went from one to the other,
    you had to go and wash your hands
    to disinfect your hands over there.
    And medicine, no medicine, because we found out later
    we had some Jewish doctors.
    We had what they called a [NON-ENGLISH],,
    which means a sick bay, whatever it was.
    They didn't have anything.
    They couldn't do it, so they gave us--
    we had the tablets, I think was codeine or something like that.
    And they told us, take two tablets
    and make a liter to dilute it.
    That's for dysentery?
    For the dysentery to give them.
    Because I mean, it was like I say, give a Band-aid to a heart
    attack or something like that, to put it in that perspective.
    And the German doctors you never saw?
    Oh, no.
    No, only I mean, the cure, no.
    It was no question of curing this.
    But that's what they--
    this was the experience.
    That's what they did, that particular time.
    And that was the outcome of it that was found.
    Now, later on, they saw that was--
    later on I went back to work.
    And I went back to work--
    On the river?
    No, I went that was from Siemens I went to what they call over
    here [GERMAN] is known as munitions,
    but they also have a different.
    They also the construction work.
    We were making we had a little narrow gauge, little things,
    and rail boxcars that tip over.
    And you had to shovel sand into the cars,
    fill it, and bring it over.
    They were making a railroad what do you call it,
    like for the trestles, an embankment something like
    that, they were filling in.
    So we had a [GERMAN] coming.
    Over there, that was the pits.
    I mean, that was as bad as the Siemens Bauunion was,
    this over there you were--
    we had a guy, he was the foreman.
    His name [? Notaft. ?] A drunk, he was drunk from morning
    till night.
    I mean, you ever see a child that has
    with a stick, that plays Moses.
    This guy had a stick, he used to go walk with a stick
    like this, with a big stick.
    And we worked, I mean, he was tyrant.
    So we're working, I have a scar over here from him on my leg.
    When he took--
    I wasn't doing the way he wanted, he took a shovel,
    and he hit me over here.
    And I got a--
    this is my damage.
    And right after that when he hit me there, my foot swelled up.
    And I had to go to--
    they sent me to the Kraków had a ghetto yet.
    In Kraków, they sent me to the hospital in Kraków where they
    doctors, they had a thing over there.
    And they treated me over there.
    And being there also you had a little more food.
    It was a little more food, and they were after a while,
    but it started to get better, but I
    still a-- my foot was stolen.
    They wanted me to go back to the camp
    and I didn't want to go back.
    I felt as long as I could stay here, because it was good.
    But there came a time, I mean, everything's providence.
    I mean, they forced me to go back.
    I went back to camp.
    Three days later they cleaned out the whole hospital.
    Every sick person, whatever, everybody was shot.
    [NON-ENGLISH].
    [NON-ENGLISH].
    And I went back to over here to work.
    While being over there in camp, in Kraków,
    the gulag for a while, me and another guy,
    we had to take away--
    how our barracks, there were you had a row of barracks.
    Behind the barracks was a little place that you had the fence.
    So behind the barracks they used to take you and make
    the executioners.
    Me and another guy had to go and take them
    away after the execution.
    The bodies.
    But what I want to bring out is under circumstances, given
    I mean, I say it in quotes, the right circumstances, I mean,
    a human being can turn in worse than an animal.
    Because with all the things going on, with all the things,
    the death and you see, I mean, you
    knew it was a question today it's him, tomorrow it's you.
    There was no--
    I mean, you lived it from minute to minute.
    And it didn't mean anything.
    I mean, right after that, after the execution taken away,
    if I had some food to eat I just sat down calmly.
    And even today, when I talk about it, if I watch a movie,
    let's say a sob story, something, sometimes you well
    up inside, I will well up.
    When it comes to talk as far as the Holocaust with all
    the things, I turn into a stone.
    In other words, it has no effect on me whatsoever.
    I can talk about it like you talk about it.
    That was part of my built-in safety valve, whatever
    you want to call it, because otherwise I
    would have gone bananas.
    And I can't--
    I look at this, I cannot shed a tear over it.
    Just it isn't in me, I can't bring it out.
    Can you remember some instances in the labor camp
    where the prisoners, the Jews, helped each other?
    Well, you did--
    They turned you into animals, but--
    You did help each other.
    The Oberschaff Müller like he used to get drunk on a Saturday
    night.
    So to him it was you had--
    he went hunting.
    So he had a big Rex, he had a big German shepherd.
    He used to when you walk he used to sick him on you,
    and just like that.
    But as far as helping, I'll give you examples of helping.
    From the gulag from Kraków, when they dissolved it,
    we went up to the other-- it was another camp,
    [? Zabłocie ?] which was up the hill where Goeth was,
    the famous Goeth he was there.
    And they took us up over there as treasure.
    In other words, it turned out we were only a couple--
    He was the kommandant?
    Goeth was the kommandant of the [? Zabłocie ?],,
    the camp over there.
    Yeah, before that I'll give another,
    while I was working on the bridge-- going back
    to the Siemens Bauunion.
    I mean, I'm sorry I keep jumping--
    That's all right, sure.
    As it comes.
    For a while, once we got we made already the case, the things,
    then we started to lay the big i-beams, going across.
    So in a way, for me it was one of the foreman chose me.
    I was operating a crane, the crane that lifts the i-beams.
    But it was like if you see it like a tripod,
    with two stationary, and the third tripod
    is a moving part over there.
    It wasn't like a crane today where you see it go up.
    It was like a tripod.
    And they had to lift it, he lifted up the i-beams.
    And I was by the controls.
    It was way down, and this was way up,
    because you had to lay beams way over there.
    And he was standing over there giving me signals, up, down,
    back, forth.
    Again, he was always drunk.
    And one particular time I know in myself,
    I did whatever he told me.
    But to him it was according to him he told me to zig
    and I zagged.
    He came down, pulls out this pistol [GERMAN],,
    if I do it once more, if I do this
    I'll shoot you down like a dog.
    Schwein hunt and all that.
    That was-- but after the--
    while we were laying the i-beams,
    we laid the i-beams over there, it was over the bridge.
    And the other side you had in the front crack of the people
    that lived in the ghetto.
    They worked in places, they had according to us
    they it good, because they were home.
    They were going from their home every day
    to work, certain work.
    And they still lived home, they still manage to live,
    and they were getting food over there.
    So we used to go in order to get on our lunch hour
    whatever little meager soup we had,
    we used to go over the i-beams.
    We surprised them, acrobats, the Vistula was quite a big river.
    The i-beams were quite wide.
    But still you go you could lose the equilibrium.
    We used to go over there every day in order
    to get whatever they had left over.
    They had pity on us, so the left over they
    gave us two or three spoons, five spoons, 10 spoons,
    anything helped.
    It was a question, every little scrap
    that you could get help was a question between life
    and death.
    Because the soups that we were getting
    they had the beets that you get for the cattle.
    The beets, the heart and all, that was our dinner.
    With a little bit of bread.
    And the coffee was--
    the coffee we used to get, we had enough to drink
    and you washed in it because it was the only thing hot.
    You had hot water, so that's how you washed your hands.
    You have to fish in the coffee that was it.
    So later on, going there we went up on the [POLISH],, come back.
    And at the time I didn't know, but we were going single file.
    And they found out, and they took every tenth person
    they took out.
    And they shot them.
    We were over there--
    How did you learn this?
    Later on we were told when we came up there.
    At the time I didn't know, because we were going.
    I mean, later on you find things out.
    You heard that this guy is missing, this guy is missing,
    then you put two and two together,
    you found out what happened.
    Because the people over there in [INAUDIBLE]
    they knew how things are going.
    So we were over there I think about four or five days,
    because we were on the way out.
    While I was over there, I told you
    before, I was working with a man and we
    knew the reputation of Goeth.
    I mean, he used to creep up out of nowhere.
    You never knew where he's coming from or what.
    I was working with a man with shovels, we're digging.
    So normally you rest up for a second.
    I mean, you put your hand on the shovel,
    you talking to each other.
    All of a sudden, he felt one of the fingers
    he got shot, a bullet, whicked through.
    Goeth saw from a distance and noticed
    he was standing with the shovel, he did it.
    From there we went to--
    trying to see if I can put the things together.
    On the train we went to Czestochowa,
    it was a camp, Czestochowajanka they called it.
    Over there there were three camps, and one of us,
    where we went, it was Czestochowajanka
    And we stayed there for a while.
    And over there we worked, it was the Russian front.
    And they were getting beat, so they
    used to bring the tanks, the damaged tanks.
    So they used to bring up by us and we used to repair them.
    Then we saw over there we used to compare because they
    had some of the captured Russian tanks,
    which the armor was about five times
    as thick as the German tanks.
    We saw that.
    And over there, in a way, I was able to supplement
    the food a little better.
    You had to organize, in other words.
    It was called [NON-ENGLISH],, you have to be to think--
    I think I'm jumping the gun.
    We went first, we want to Skarzysko-Kamienna.
    Skarzysko-Kamienna, it was also three, in other words,
    it was very barrack departments, barrack A, B, C.
    You went to a string of labor camps at this time?
    Yes, yes.
    A, B, C, A and B was heaven.
    C was where I lived, that was also the pits.
    There was a munitions factory.
    Yeah, that was in Skarzysko-Kamienna,
    because we came over there from Kraków, we still had--
    we still looked like human beings, more or less.
    And we were over there, we saw walking dead people,
    actually walking dead people.
    In Skarzysko?
    In Skarzysko-Kamienna, in [PLACE NAME]..
    People swollen, puffed up eyes, cheeks, like a bluish color.
    You could see like watery, there was no substance to the meat.
    It was like water, the eyes popped out,
    cheeks, knees, the things.
    These were-- so we found out later, we learned a lesson.
    And all of a sudden you could see a person like this.
    You could see them walk, and all of a sudden
    just lay down it was it, finished.
    What happened we found out later,
    I mean, we were-- we went through that, too.
    If you were hungry, if you were starving--
    Mr. Einhorn, we're going to have to take a brief pause right now
    to change the tape.
    OK.
    It'll be a very brief one.
    They just they just--
    Welcome back, Mr. Einhorn, after our brief pause.
    Please go on.
    I said that I landed in Skarzysko-Kamienna.
    It was in [PLACE NAME] which was the worst.
    Now that was a munitions factory which was during the--
    it's a regular munitions factory by Poland.
    I mean, it was part of a regular government munitions factory.
    And over there they had--
    they had a lot of employees--
    Polish, which were from before the war.
    It was a regular factory.
    They were employed in the munitions factory.
    And we came over there, again, we got the shock
    because the first time I came across how many people were
    dying, I mean, I was around it.
    But this was something I saw the first time people was
    swollen faces, swollen ankles.
    I mean, it was-- it was a sight where
    you could see one minute walking,
    and next minute just fell down over.
    Now, over there when we came, they
    divided us into certain sections cause
    you had all kind of holes where they were making the artillery
    shells, they were filling artillery shells.
    And over there, again, we came a bunch of-- we
    were together from before.
    You tried to stay--
    I mean, you didn't have any relatives.
    You tried to stay together with the people that you knew with.
    And I was chosen what they called transport [NON-ENGLISH],,
    which meant we were about 180 people made into 18 groups,
    10--
    to load and unload railroad cars.
    They were carrying-- the empty shells came in the cartridges
    and to load up the full ones.
    And I was more or less, I was a short guy.
    And they told me I should try something else because it's
    going to be very hard.
    But I didn't want to part with my friends.
    You know, I tried to stick together with us.
    Anyway.
    We worked.
    Later on, what was the advantage of it being that we were--
    in other words, we didn't have a particular place
    to work in a certain hall or a certain factory.
    We were all over cause the railroad tracks,
    you know, you had to deliver carloads to each--
    you know, you had the heavy artillery, small artillery.
    So we had to go everywhere.
    And so we had the run of the place,
    more or less, in other words.
    And the advantage was, it was in the woods, like.
    It was surrounded by the woods.
    And you know, like, in the spring, you had berries.
    So as you went from one to the place,
    you were able to pick berries.
    I mean, to show every little morsel meant
    the difference between surviving, I mean, normal.
    It was-- So from the 180 people, I would say within six,
    seven weeks, we were left about 70.
    I mean, it was--
    we were working 16, 17, 18 hours a day.
    There was no-- when your transport came,
    and a transport had to go out, you had to go out.
    You had to go and load it, unload it, regardless.
    So we were in the barracks.
    You had no clothes to change.
    And the rain, and you were wet.
    You came in there.
    Like, I had a big coat from my home town.
    That was my cover to [? the ground ?] was wet.
    It was wet.
    And as far, we had a potbelly stove.
    If you were able to pick up [INAUDIBLE] we'd call it
    a [NON-ENGLISH],, on the place of the--
    if you were paid, everybody, if you
    could pick up a piece of coal, piece of wood, took it with us.
    And that was a communal thing.
    You threw it in there, that's what you had to eat.
    Otherwise, you didn't have it.
    So in every day, you got up.
    We had the bunks.
    Every day you got up.
    Was always two, three, four.
    Overnight, they just didn't get up.
    And that was it.
    It was a matter of fact.
    I mean, you took it in stride, because again, it
    was a question.
    Today it's him.
    Tomorrow is your lot.
    It was-- you just a question of time.
    Now my motto was always, I mean, I kept saying to myself,
    I said, I used to say it to God.
    Whatever you want to dish out, I'll
    take everything except please let me live through.
    At least I should be able to survive.
    I'll accept any punishment.
    Just let me live through.
    So that was it.
    And over there, I mean, the work was--
    it was unbelievable because they're loading, unloading.
    Again, like in the winter, I remember one
    particular Friday night.
    It was sits in my mind, stands out more than anything else.
    We had to load the cartridges into--
    you loaded them on the little--
    they call it-- again, on the short and narrow track
    with your little wagons.
    You loaded them up.
    And they were-- each shell was wrapped
    around the corrugated cartons.
    In other words, separated from each of the corrugated cartons.
    I want you to know this was our clothes,
    because you couldn't get any clothes.
    We were tattered.
    You saw people.
    That's what we used to do.
    We used to tape the word on the sleeves,
    the word on their feet.
    That's what we were.
    [INTERPOSING VOICES]
    That was our protect from the elements.
    It protected you.
    Right, right.
    I remember one winter night--
    and it was a Friday night because we were saying, how
    could God punish us that much?
    I mean, it was really, it was coming down snow.
    It was cold.
    It was coming down.
    It's in Poland.
    You know, it is cold there.
    So it was coming down.
    The flakes were big.
    And it kept covering the track.
    You couldn't push the wagon because it kept covering.
    And over here, they're behind us.
    It's got loads, loads, loads, loads.
    [INAUDIBLE]
    It's got to be fast.
    You got to--
    It was above human endurance.
    You know, I say this stands out in my mind.
    Now you asked me before about helping out each other.
    I'll give you an example, this particular time.
    So we had, like, every 10 people were to a car load.
    So you had some people inside and some people outside.
    You had to transfer.
    What happened was, these things were going up
    to the Russian front.
    So you had-- there was specification.
    You had to load so many shells.
    There was also roofing paper.
    And there was also some lumber because if they unloaded
    in the front to keep it out of the element,
    they had to cover it up with roofing paper.
    So you had a prescribed thing.
    You had to go, let's say, a certain x amount of shells,
    so many rolls of roofing paper, so many rolls of-- some lumber.
    So in one particular Passover, with all that thing
    going through, we still had some very orthodox people
    stuck to the principle.
    But we couldn't.
    I mean, where they couldn't, they
    wouldn't eat bread on Pesach.
    And so we had-- we used to steal potatoes, something like that.
    And they were weak.
    We used to do--
    so we did.
    What we did is, we let them stay in the--
    pushed them in the carload.
    They should stay in the carload.
    And we were doing the work.
    Of course, this outside, he couldn't do anything cause
    right away he would have got the whip.
    Inside, at least, we tried to keep them in there.
    We did the work in order to--
    they should be [INAUDIBLE].
    During Pesach.
    During Pesach.
    Because they wouldn't eat the bread.
    And they were really--
    I mean, we all were weak.
    But still and all, it was part of it
    in order to shelter them because they were so--
    through that, in order to be able to do it.
    Over there-- I mean, it was bad.
    But the difference, again, I want
    to show between how you try to organize in order to organize
    a little bit extra food.
    What we did is, we were able--
    no.
    It was a munitions factory.
    So over there you had one of the ingredients
    of there was saltpeter.
    It's a powder.
    It comes a bit like these cement bags where they're paper bags,
    but they're sewn together.
    And like I mentioned before, you had
    laborers from Polish people.
    They lived and they were laborers from before.
    We became so adept at the work, we were doing more work,
    producing more than they did.
    And they were experts.
    I mean, that's under the yoke, you know,
    when I think about it, the boot, the whip.
    So what happened was, being working
    at the transport as we were loading the saltpeter,
    we were unloaded from the boxcar into the warehouse.
    So you had a ramp from the back car is high.
    And you had a ramp running on boxes like this going right
    into the warehouse.
    And you came in.
    There were two guys in the boxcar.
    And they lifted up the thing.
    They gave it to you on the shoulder.
    You were carrying it other there.
    There were two other guys stacking it.
    During the course going from the boxcar
    to the warehouse, these bags, they were sewn together.
    They were sewn on the machine.
    Again, you get adept.
    I don't know if you know, if you saw the sewing machine,
    if you know the right cotton to rip, the whole thing rips.
    So you had a white, it was a white--
    it was like wool, but a white thick cotton, something
    like a string.
    So on the way I used to-- not only me, I mean,
    a lot of guys--
    we used to rip it off one side and put it in my pocket.
    And then at night used to take it and roll it in a ball,
    roll in a ball.
    The string?
    The string.
    It was a white string.
    So what we did with it--
    there was no wool to be had.
    We used to, the Polish people, they used to take it from us.
    We used to exchange for food.
    They used to make themselves pullovers, nice white pullovers
    out of that.
    It's that wool.
    So to them it was-- you know.
    It was a [INAUDIBLE].
    Yarn.
    It was a yarn.
    Like a yarn.
    Yes.
    They used to make themselves the pullovers.
    And they were working the boiler rooms.
    I had a couple of guys in the boiler room.
    So as soon I had something like this,
    now they were getting their food from home.
    They were all sandwiches, whatever it is.
    They were also entitled to rations of soup in the factory.
    So we used to exchange.
    I gave this, and they gave me, let's say for a week,
    he gave me soup.
    So I had my little soup that I got from the [INAUDIBLE],, which
    was a starvation diet.
    There was an extra portion of soup.
    But that was the difference to survive.
    Then I had--
    I mean, talk personally about me.
    Then I had a friend of mine who worked for the Jewish police.
    In the camp had a Jewish police.
    He was from my hometown.
    He was like, [? Califax, ?] they called him.
    A handy guy.
    They used to clean their shoes and all that.
    So I knew he was a friend of mine
    from my hometown, a young kid, younger kid.
    They were able to get-- they got straw, the mattresses.
    We were sleeping on the bunks on wood.
    They got-- the police--
    policemen-- the Jewish policemen.
    They were getting mattresses.
    So you had to fill it up with straw.
    So he gave me the mattress.
    And I got a-- he gave me a ticket, in other words.
    It was a permit that it would be that I was on the transport.
    I was able to go over there.
    He gave me a permit to go to a place
    where they filled it up with straw.
    They filled it-- it was for the policemen.
    They filled it up with the straw.
    And I brought it in.
    I carried it after I left the work.
    I carried it on my back all this traveling.
    And I brought it.
    When I brought it, he gave me an ration
    of puff bread, which was--
    I mean, that's what kept me alive.
    Being enterprising.
    Well, in a way, yes.
    Ingenious.
    That was it.
    The was the enterp--
    But it was a difference between life and death.
    Sure.
    In that way.
    But over there, I mean, the people that I saw,
    the smaller people that was--
    Muselmann, was a man that was emaciated, I mean,
    just a skeleton.
    That was already later on in Buchenwald.
    But over here, too.
    But what you see on a picture.
    Over here you saw [INAUDIBLE].
    So then what happened, you know, we talked to them.
    People there were starving.
    Once it came to a point, let's say,
    after four or five days when they didn't eat,
    they became oblivious.
    They weren't hungry anymore.
    They have oblivious to it anymore.
    They didn't feel any quest for hunger at all.
    It was just a question of a couple of days.
    And that was it.
    Over there also, we had an explosion in one
    of the holes where 58 women perished.
    They were the ones who-- they're working.
    In other words, when they filled these artillery shells,
    it was going on a band.
    It was a wooden cradle, a wooden cradle
    that the shell got into the wooden cradle,
    square, you know, square?
    And then you stacked one against the other.
    And evidently, when it came from the band and you
    had the fire pin screwed on and all that.
    And it fell down on the floor and exploded.
    58 women perished.
    They closed up the whole thing.
    And then the Gestapo came down, it was a whole thing.
    Everything closed up.
    They quashed it up and all that.
    And by us being that we were in the transport,
    we used to load these on the wagon, on little wagons,
    you know, like you have today where
    you pump it up and lift it up and you carry it
    into the wagons.
    We were really trying to commit suicide.
    I mean, we didn't care if it fell down or-- you know,
    we were so careless because it was came to a point,
    we couldn't take it anymore.
    Like I said, it was--
    whatever, que sera, sera.
    Whatever's going to happen, it didn't mean anything anymore.
    Do you have a sense of what time this was?
    That was-- well, we came through to Skarzysko the end of '43.
    That was in '43, '44, the beginning, the end of '43, '44
    over there we were there.
    Now also over there you had a--
    I'll tell you about the gr-- you hear about the green people.
    Over there you had the green people.
    What happened was, they were making--
    we understood it was underwater mines.
    We called it [POLISH] in Polish.
    It was picric acid.
    It came in boxes, powder.
    Then they used to take these boxes.
    They used to take it in the hole,
    you know, in the things they had, presses.
    They used to take this and compress it somehow,
    in their clothes [INAUDIBLE].
    Compress it, but it had to be cleaned.
    After so many times, it had to be cleaned.
    And being that you had to give the quota, I mean,
    everything was hurry up.
    You couldn't clean it properly.
    So it wasn't-- you know, they used to explode.
    But whoever worked on it, this picric acid
    is so bitter, I mean, it's unbelievable how bitter.
    It permeates your whole body, your clothes, your skin.
    If you worked on it, you became completely green.
    I worked in the transport, we were just unloading it.
    But when I worked on it to unload it,
    I was green for about two, three, or four days till they--
    and don't forget, I wasn't in touch with it.
    I just took the boxes and loaded it from one place to the other.
    As a matter of fact, one day this continued that camp.
    And they made also, they made--
    they gathered everybody.
    And they-- all these people, they tried to--
    they didn't want to leave a trace of them.
    So over there, again, I was picked out also to be shot.
    A group and somehow to this day, I don't know how.
    I was able to sneak behind.
    I sneak behind the barracks.
    I hid out for a while till they--
    just after they took away the people they took away to shoot.
    And then they [INAUDIBLE].
    And then I came back to the, with the people again.
    Then I went to the--
    was it-- I'm trying to--
    I know we walked for a while.
    So we went into Przedbórz.
    We walked for a while over there.
    And we worked.
    We destroyed over there.
    And we lived in a barn.
    It was just temporarily, we lived in a barn.
    And we destroyed-- also we build something--
    we destroyed a Jewish cemetery, we had to destroy that.
    They made you do that?
    Oh yeah.
    We had to do it.
    Yes.
    It was--
    How did you do that?
    Manual labor.
    I mean--
    With picks and shovels?
    Shovels, picks, and everything.
    Because we were digging.
    They would make some kind of a whatever formation, whatever
    it is.
    To clear it off.
    Clear it, yes.
    To even it, whatever it was.
    Then we went to the [? Częstochowa ?]..
    Over there we worked like I said before, we were trying,
    we were working for fixing up these tanks.
    And so again, you know, you had to be--
    the tanks have a treadmill which was a heavy rubber.
    So when we used to do--
    they came in in disrepair.
    We used to steal--
    cut off the rubber.
    You cut it off and make-- used to use it for soles.
    Cut up a piece of our soles.
    It was a heavy thing, which helped.
    Then came-- at that time, the people from Lodz.
    And they started to--
    they were emptying out Lodz ghetto.
    And a lot of them came from the Lodz ghetto.
    So they came with suits.
    They had certain possessions on themselves.
    And so they were able to trade.
    So over there, I became a shoemaker.
    What we used to do, we used to get the wooden bottoms.
    A lot of them had the--
    we had the Holland shoes, what do you call these?
    Wooden shoes.
    The wooden shoes.
    Clogs.
    Clogs?
    Clogs.
    Yeah.
    A lot of people use.
    I couldn't wear them.
    I broke my legs.
    And I couldn't wear them.
    Most of them wore a clog.
    It's all you could get.
    But over there I became a shoemaker.
    And I used to make out of cloth, the tops, you know.
    And I was quite adept to it.
    And for this I was able-- because they
    were a little better off because they just came from the ghetto.
    They had certain possessions.
    We were already-- whole time we didn't have anything on us.
    So I became a shoemaker, it helped a little soup,
    a little this.
    [INAUDIBLE]
    Then came a man--
    a German.
    And he was trying to save his own skin.
    Otherwise, he would have had to go to the Russian front.
    He told us himself.
    What happened was, they had the big barracks-- big halls.
    And they had, the Germans had-- a lot of them,
    they had families.
    So in order to make like apartments--
    so you had a big hall like, you had to make certain walls--
    partitions.
    But you couldn't make it from regular brick
    because the weight of it wouldn't carry it.
    They had over there, they were getting--
    I don't know what kind of product it was.
    It was like a light stuff, like you get--
    I don't know how to explain it.
    It looked like-- what do you call this?
    Puffed cor--
    Corn?
    Puffed rice?
    No, not puffed rice.
    What do you-- what do you puff?
    Popcorn?
    Popcorn.
    It looked like popcorn.
    It looked like popcorn.
    But it was some kind of a sand or something mix.
    I don't know what it was.
    It was a light mixture.
    And he took six guys of us, six guys.
    And I was one of them that he picked.
    And he gave us a hole over there.
    We had a machine.
    And we pressed this into brick.
    He used some kind of a mixture.
    We pressed into brick.
    It was regular size bricks, but they were very light.
    And they used to use these bricks--
    they used to use to make the partitions for the Germans.
    They had their own cubicles, their own rooms,
    whatever it was.
    So the advantage of it was that we only
    had to make a certain amount.
    We were separate.
    He told us one thing, we shouldn't show our faces
    because we were through, let's say,
    regular work was at say, 5:00 quitting time.
    We were through by 4:00, about a quarter to 4.
    He said if you're smart, stay indoors.
    And this entitled us to get an extra piece of bread.
    I don't know how much bigger it was,
    but it was entitled us to get an extra piece of bread.
    So again, it was a question of doing it.
    I mean, you do--
    it wasn't enough to live on, but it helped.
    Let's put it this way.
    Now for a minute, I'll digress for a minute.
    In [PLACE NAME] and in Skarzysko.
    Over there, we had no facilities for bathing and all that.
    You had to go to Werk A. Every week, every Sunday, to Werk A.
    But in order to go to Werk A to get a shower and a hot water--
    hot water shower, rather.
    All we had was cold water.
    Hot water shower.
    You had to show that you had lice.
    Yeah.
    You know, you had to show--
    Otherwise, you couldn't have a shower?
    No, you couldn't.
    You weren't entitled to go over there.
    And we tried to keep ourselves more or less,
    you tried with cold water.
    As a matter of fact, at one time over here
    there were a couple of--
    all this time, I didn't know there
    were any Jewish women left.
    Cause all males-- was all-male population.
    We didn't know there were any Jewish women.
    We thought all the Jewish women were annihilated.
    Over here we found a couple of them.
    The Jewish policemen had some girls over there,
    whatever it was.
    They had them over there.
    It's the first time we came across.
    So we had a separate bathroom, a shower room.
    And then the females had a shower room.
    Then ours-- one of them was broken.
    I know one of them was broke down,
    the plumbing or whatever it is.
    So we had to be mixed.
    We had them mixed.
    I tell you one thing, you're a human being, you know,
    [INAUDIBLE].
    We were naked.
    They were naked.
    It didn't mean anything.
    It was like a stone.
    Like they don't exist.
    I mean it was no--
    Irrelevant.
    No, no, no feeling, no sexual drive, nothing,
    absolutely nothing.
    It didn't mean anything.
    It was completely--
    Right.
    I just want to point it out.
    It was--
    Asexual.
    Hm?
    Asexual.
    Nothing.
    It didn't mean anything.
    I mean, you know, that's what.
    OK.
    Now, from there, from Częstochowa,
    we talk about the front was--
    the Russia front was coming up already.
    As a matter of fact, the Skarzysko-Kamienna this
    could come in at night.
    Already at night you could hear from a distance
    heavy artillery rumbling, a lot of rumbling, heavy artillery.
    We knew that it's getting close.
    As the front was getting close, they
    closed up the things in order to bring us in deeper away
    from the front.
    So then, in fact, a couple of foremen--
    from in Skarzysko come in a couple of foremen, which to me,
    I mean, I'm happy that happened to them.
    I mean, I can't say, but they deserved it.
    Let's put it this way.
    Because whatever the Germans did, they did it more in order
    to better themselves, whatever it was.
    They were so close that at one time they decided--
    I mean, they knew we got to be closed up,
    the camp is going to close up.
    A night or two before last, they skip.
    They figured they're going to be able to go
    towards Russia front and--
    but it happened.
    What happened was, I don't know.
    The Russians stopped.
    It came a point in time over there,
    whatever before wars or something,
    that they stopped for a while.
    They were going for a while, pushing,
    and then they stopped a while.
    That particular camp, in that camp, this could come in now--
    if you were-- this was--
    you talk about escaping, you live among people.
    Over there if you escape, the Polish population--
    they themselves-- for 3 pounds of sugar, they turned you in.
    For sugar was there, you couldn't get it.
    For 3 pounds of sugar.
    So even if you escaped, and you were able to,
    you go into the woods, you had to live off the land.
    I mean, you had to go sooner or later to a farm
    or to steal of the bag for 3 pounds of sugar.
    We had one time that they caught a father and a son.
    And we-- the whole camp had to get together, stand--
    appell.
    It was called appell.
    And they hung the father and the son.
    They hung them in front of our eyes.
    That the Polish people brought them
    over to this in front of our eyes.
    So you knew, even if you wanted to, you had nowhere to go.
    Do you remember any of the Polish people helping
    any of the Jews.
    I personally don't.
    I mean--
    Did you hear about that?
    --of cases.
    No.
    No.
    No.
    Because I'll tell you a better story.
    In Skarzysko-Kamienna, there was one--
    being that I worked--
    like I said, I was able--
    we were groups.
    We were going from one place to the other.
    We never knew from one day to the other
    where we're going to work.
    And we were going all over the camp.
    There was one particular spot at the end of the camp,
    there was a hole where we were working, you know,
    loading and unloading.
    In the back they made a fence.
    Later on we found out it was a lime pit, a big lime pit,
    dug out a lime pit.
    And all day long they were bringing in these trucks,
    there were particular trucks, closed trucks.
    They were bringing the Polish intelligentsia.
    And they were annihilated.
    There was gas trucks.
    They were gasses on the way, by the time they came to the pits.
    And they unloaded them over there.
    That stench was unbelievable.
    Whenever we worked over there, the stench is unbelievable.
    And with this, with that, knowing all that,
    and the people around, they worked in the factory,
    they still had it against the Jew.
    They saw what's happening.
    They still have it against the Jew.
    I don't know whether--
    I'll tell you, they tell a story.
    In Poland, you had-- the one time you had the landowners.
    Polish, you know, the Polish landowners.
    Every landowner had his own [? Moshek ?],, his own Jew.
    He had his store over there.
    And he paid to the--
    one of the landowner--
    tell a story about one of the landowners.
    He was so cruel, he was cruel to his own people, to the farmers,
    that they made once a revolt. They wanted to kill him.
    So he came, and he was hiding out.
    He was hiding.
    He went to the Jew to hide out by the Jew.
    And over there in the olden days they had the big ovens.
    It was like a big chimney that you could hide into it.
    So as he was hiding in the chimney,
    he was yelling to [? Moshek ?] to take off his hat.
    So I mean, it really was.
    It really was.
    Because they could have--
    I mean, I feel this.
    Why he chose Poland?
    Why he chose Poland to do it?
    Because nowhere else--
    [INAUDIBLE]
    He couldn't do it in Holland, he couldn't do it in Belgium.
    The local population-- over there, they used to--
    under the Germans, they were already--
    Germany was there.
    They themselves, they had to give up from whatever
    they took from the farms.
    They used to have a motto.
    Hitler, [NON-ENGLISH].
    It means, Hitler, Hitler, Hitler's behind you.
    I mean, they themselves they were in it.
    Hitler [NON-ENGLISH].
    Hitler [NON-ENGLISH].
    That was it.
    So I felt there was no--
    really, there wasn't-- there was nowhere to go.
    What happened after-- when did you leave this particular--
    Well, this was--
    I left in '44.
    And from '44 already, I went to Przedbórz, [? Częstochowa ?]..
    It was all-- it was four weeks.
    There was about two months as the front was going.
    The main stays that I had was Plaszow,
    where I stayed for '42, towards the end of '43
    to August or September '43.
    Then we went to Skarzysko-Kamienna,
    where I was there for a while.
    And then there was little, nothing--
    Short stops.
    Short stops, yeah.
    Anyway.
    I landed in December 31, '44.
    From [? Częstochowa ?],, the only thing that I had where you hear
    from people, they were walking for weeks.
    A lot of them, for weeks, like my wife, and my mother-in-law,
    they walked for weeks.
    I did-- in a way it was good because I traveled.
    It was boxcars, but at least we didn't walk.
    From there we went to Buchenwald.
    We went on a--
    it took us three days.
    They gave us a bread, a whole bread, which was, you know,
    [INAUDIBLE].
    And they gave us--
    they loaded us up on boxcars.
    For three days, the boxcar-- the doors were a little open where
    they had the [NON-ENGLISH]---- the watchmen.
    They were with us.
    And it took us three days.
    And we landed in December 31 we landed in Buchenwald.
    That's what year?
    That was '44.
    Yeah.
    December 31, '44 we landed in Buchenwald
    to go to the concentration camp.
    We came over there.
    They took us, and they gave us--
    till now we wore regular clothes.
    We still had belongings.
    I had photographs, pictures.
    I had a pair of tefillin.
    And I had an address.
    I had a New Year's card from an aunt of mine in the Bronx.
    [PLACE NAME] Avenue, she was--
    And I had a card.
    And this I had embedded in my memory
    because I knew that if we ever come alive, whatever it is,
    she was going to be the bridge.
    Yeah.
    Yeah.
    One thing I forgot to tell you, in Krakow,
    I was with my brother.
    That was my brother.
    Later on, they gave us--
    everybody wore a shield.
    One was R, Rustung, which meant--
    Rustung meant works for the--
    like, munitions, for the war effort, we worked.
    Then you had B [NON-ENGLISH].
    So everybody had it--
    you had to wear that.
    It happened that my brother lost his.
    He lost it.
    Till then we were together in [INAUDIBLE]..
    He lost his.
    And once he lost it, they took him away.
    And they separated us.
    They took him to the Krakow ghetto,
    into the ghetto for a while.
    And then I lost track of him.
    That's when we separated.
    Then I found out that they took him to Silesia,
    to the [PLACE NAME] camp.
    And after the war, I found some people that they were with him.
    And they told me that he got the--
    they shot him a week before I got liberated.
    He was on a march.
    And during the march, whoever couldn't take it,
    that was, right away they went over, there right
    away [INAUDIBLE] and shot him.
    And that was it.
    So I mean, I [INAUDIBLE] and I digress [INAUDIBLE]..
    When I came to Buchenwald, they gave us these striped uniforms
    with numbers.
    Now, each transport, each transport had a series.
    And it was a series.
    Like, our transport had a six-digit series.
    By luck, whatever it was, I got a number of a dead person
    from before, which was a five-digit number.
    A five digit, it was denoted an old time.
    The six digit meant the new group.
    So whatever-- we came into the--
    Buchenwald was like the large camp.
    It was on a hill down.
    It was a large camp, and then it was a small camp.
    It was 50, 49, 50, 51, 52 block.
    And over there we were just lifted.
    There was bunks and on the floor.
    You know, wherever you could, you lived over there.
    I got a five-digit number.
    And during the day there was outside the camp was a quarry.
    It was a stone quarry.
    So they used to take us to the stone quarry.
    They used to catch them.
    It was like hunting.
    They used to catch and go to the-- certain groups
    went there.
    Mostly it was a stone quarry.
    Stone quarry was-- and this is the worst thing.
    If you do something that you can accomplish,
    if you do whatever it is, how hard it is,
    if you do something that you can see accomplish something,
    at least you do it.
    If you do [INAUDIBLE].
    Over there you took a stone from here, heavy stones.
    Put it here, put it here.
    From here, put it here.
    It was all day long.
    [INAUDIBLE] without any-- this is the worst--
    the worst thing.
    Because somehow it works on you that it's [INAUDIBLE]..
    You think this was part of their plan?
    I know so.
    Yeah.
    The meaninglessness of it.
    Being that I had a five-digit number, even if I--
    and this was the local--
    the local police.
    You know, every year, a camp had it's own.
    The Germans are overall, but they had their own.
    So when they saw a five-digit number, oh, he's an old-timer.
    He paid his dues.
    So let's get the guys.
    In a way, it helped.
    But I still-- you still had to do work,
    but it wasn't as menial as this.
    But two or three times--
    only a two or three times that I was over there
    where they selected me to go to bring the food.
    You had to bring the cattle's food, which for that you were--
    again, you had an explanation.
    But there was only about two or three times.
    That was it.
    Now when we came to Buchenwald, we came to the, what's called
    [NON-ENGLISH].
    You came into an enclosed section.
    It was a barrack.
    And you went in, you had to strip, completely strip.
    You went in one side.
    And you go through a chain where they shaved you.
    And you had to take a shower.
    And they put some disinfectant, which
    burned, because once you shave your hair,
    your skin is very delicate.
    They shave you, and it's burning.
    And you came out on the other side.
    And they gave you these striped uniforms.
    In the meantime, you had--
    we was in a cage.
    The others couldn't go--
    they told us what the story is, what it is.
    And we still came with food.
    We had some food leftover because you always tried
    to leave some [INAUDIBLE].
    They told us, you're not going to get anything.
    And we were all starving, hungry.
    That was a time that I said to myself,
    I don't care what's going to happen.
    I got to fill my stomach, once to feel,
    to feel what it means a full stomach.
    Because you always-- again, in Skarzysko-Kamienna,
    we used to get one day a week we used to get a sweet soup.
    It was a sweet soup.
    It was-- yeah.
    And then we had a bread soup.
    We were there, the bread was stale, used to buy bread.
    And we used to tell it--
    to tell to each other, oh, we ever get liberated, you're
    going to eat bread soup, it's going to be to the hilt.
    On a sweet soup, it's got to be to the hilt.
    You know, that's your dream.
    But when it came to Buchenwald, and we
    saw what the score-- they told us what the score is,
    I said, no.
    I got to-- this is it.
    I got to fill my stomach to feel one more piece.
    And people were leaving.
    You left the food because you couldn't take it inside.
    You left the food.
    I remember I had a half a bread, which was--
    I don't know what to say--
    2 pounds, 3 pounds, a half a bread.
    And somebody left a jar--
    that was twice in my life that I ate [NON-ENGLISH]..
    What you call [NON-ENGLISH],, you know--
    Pig.
    Like lard.
    I mean, so this was [INAUDIBLE].
    Un-kosher food.
    Somebody had a jar of lard, quite a big jar of lard.
    I sat down.
    And I cut up the bread with the lard.
    I finished the bread.
    I finished the lard.
    I was full.
    You didn't get sick?
    I didn't get sick.
    I didn't get sick.
    But I said, I didn't care for the consequences.
    This is one time--
    because I saw people were leaving it.
    And if you could have given it to the others, the outside,
    you couldn't do it.
    Because we had a double fence.
    They were separated.
    You couldn't throw it because the guards around.
    But in other words, you came in over here one day,
    you come out the other way.
    But I saw there were groups.
    I didn't go to the first group.
    I never went for the first group.
    You know, I always--
    well, wait.
    Let's see what happens.
    So this was one time I filled up my stomach.
    And I felt good.
    Whatever then, didn't care.
    So when I came up, like I said, I got a dead number
    from a dead person.
    It was a five-digit number.
    While I was over there--
    and I think it was two weeks over there, something.
    Yeah.
    And this was one time I ate the [NON-ENGLISH]..
    Then on New Year's '45, the following day,
    they gave us a soup with pieces of lard.
    It was a New Year's treat, which I also ate.
    That was twice that I ate and I enjoyed it.
    God forgave you.
    Well, whatever [INAUDIBLE].
    I did, I had nowhere else.
    Then they started to pick groups to send out.
    I mean, you didn't stay over there
    because they were sending out there.
    So they used to catch--
    they used to catch people and then send them out.
    And a couple of times--
    so we fell into the net.
    And twice, the German didn't pick-- cause I said,
    I was always a shorty, you know, a tiny guy.
    He said, oh, no.
    You're too weak to go there.
    And he left me, he left me out.
    And then I found out, people came back.
    One of them went for a week, and they came back,
    they were decimated.
    And my group later on went to--
    trying to think.
    It's near Stuttgart.
    I think it was [? Schlieben ?].
    I'm not too sure, but it was near Stuttgart.
    Over there we were extracting oil from shale.
    You know, from shale.
    As a matter of fact, when I came to the United States,
    I got a hold of a "Reader's Digest."
    I read an article about my place where I was.
    The allies were under the impression
    that they were working some kind of nuclear thing or something
    like that.
    But what happened was, there was this shale.
    They were extracting oil because they were quite low on--
    they need it for the front, the gas and all that.
    So they would extract the oil from the shale.
    What happened was, the way we were working,
    they were blasting the shale.
    And we were laying pipes quite an [INAUDIBLE],,
    I would say about 4 foot in diameter.
    Really large pipes, things.
    And we were in there.
    We were in there knee-deep in the mud.
    Over there, people-- you didn't last too long because we
    didn't have any boots.
    So what happened was, you had to go into the mud.
    So every time-- and over there I got a hold--
    four guys got together.
    We called four musketeers.
    And I saw every time, they used to grab you to go through.
    So I said, it's not going to work.
    So the four of us, whenever it came to go to the-- we
    all would volunteer.
    We always volunteered.
    It was a question.
    I got to get hit with a stick till they send me.
    We always volunteered.
    Anyway, the outcome was, it was to our advantage
    because over there we worked already under the Wehrmacht.
    The Wehrmacht was the army.
    In other words, it wasn't the Gestapo or something.
    But it was under their jurisdiction, the army.
    And you had an army guy.
    And every time-- so every--
    was going out for a couple of days.
    [INAUDIBLE] after a couple days.
    He said, no.
    You don't go any more there.
    You did your stint already.
    Now with me, we always volunteered.
    He said, no.
    Let somebody else do it now.
    So it was to our advantage.
    A matter of fact, a week or so later,
    they got in a transport of boots--
    rubber boots.
    The four of us, we were the first ones that got the boots.
    We were getting-- it was a help to us.
    While we were working there already, that was '45.
    It was getting close.
    The Allies-- whenever it was a nice sunny day,
    we know already we're not going to do too much work today
    anymore.
    Cause the Allies-- the planes came over.
    And they used to--
    Strafe.
    Strafe and shell.
    And we didn't hide.
    All the Germans, they were always-- they used to hide.
    And we didn't.
    The light was so--
    it didn't mean anything to us.
    Again, we didn't hide at all.
    It was whatever it was.
    Again, I'll digress.
    While I was in Buchenwald, outside it was--
    outside of the camp in Buchenwald, it was Weimar.
    You know, the next city was Weimar, Weimar Republic.
    Yes.
    The city was a Weimar and Erfurt.
    At the time when I was there, they were bombed.
    Weimar and Erfurt was bombed.
    There was also outside of the camp were what they called--
    I believe it's called the Gustloff-Werke camp.
    They were working, I believe the machine guns was [INAUDIBLE]..
    And what happened was--
    I mean, I was told--
    this happened a while before us.
    But I was told by the people, before the bombing
    came a plane.
    It must have been a spotter plane.
    And he left a smoke screen around the perimeter
    of the Buchenwald camp.
    And about a half hour later came the bombers.
    They bombed the Gustloff-Werke, the whole factory was bombed,
    Weimar was bombed, and Erfurt was bombed,
    the houses and all that.
    Which the advantage of this to us was that
    would be that I had a five number thing.
    They picked us to go and to clean the rubble,
    to clean the rubble.
    After the bombing?
    After the bombing.
    You know, so they took us into Weimar
    to Erfurt to clean the rubble.
    We went into houses to clean the basement.
    While we went into houses, so you found a carrot.
    You found a beet.
    Vegetables, you found a potato.
    This helped.
    This helped also.
    And it was not only this, but psychologically, we
    were so uplifted.
    We saw this.
    I mean, at least we saw something because the fact was,
    when we were working home, in our hometown, when we work,
    you know, the everyday work, we were working--
    as a matter of fact, one time we were working,
    we make the dugouts for against--
    anti-tank diggings.
    You know, you make these big, big digs, anti-tank digs.
    When the United States--
    I remember it like today, vividly.
    On a Sunday morning, we were working these--
    called the okopy in Polish.
    The Panzergraben in German.
    When the United States declared war-- and we
    had clandestine radio.
    We knew everything.
    You did?
    When the United States declared war,
    we knew [INAUDIBLE] came because how long will it take?
    The United States declare war.
    In a couple of weeks, the United States is going to be here.
    It's going to be finished, the war.
    And then we bowed down.
    That's what it was.
    So the reason I'm bringing this up
    is because when the Allies came, and they
    were strafing and bombing, and we saw this here,
    we saw something is moving.
    Because while we were home--
    you know, the place where I lived,
    my hometown during the first war, there was a main battle.
    The breakthrough-- we're talking for World War I--
    the breakthrough was by us.
    Now my hometown was part of it.
    It was [PLACE NAME],, [PLACE NAME],, Gorlice,
    it was a breakthrough-- when the Germans break through,
    the Russians.
    So it was a [INAUDIBLE].
    And when they--
    World War II when Hitler took Czechoslovakia, so he raped it.
    He took everything out.
    There was a [? Škoda Werke ?].
    It was one of the biggest munitions and automobiles
    like GM.
    Škoda.
    [? Škoda Werke ?].
    Through my street where I lived, day and night, day and night
    for a week was rumbling.
    They were taking trucks, cars from Czechoslovakia to Germany,
    through our home town.
    Day and night was going on.
    And I saw the German army with--
    they were going to the front.
    And the way everything worked.
    That was the first time where the air and ground control,
    they were together.
    They showed it.
    I mean, the message was [INAUDIBLE]..
    How punctually they bombed, you know, [INAUDIBLE]..
    Anyway.
    So over here, it's the first time
    that I saw already a break, like they say, in the dike.
    We saw the [INAUDIBLE],, which helped to us.
    And also over here, we were going to hundreds of house.
    We were going through the streets of the Weimar
    and Erfurt.
    The reason I'm bringing it out, they saw us in the striped--
    [INAUDIBLE]
    They looked at us like vermin.
    We weren't human beings.
    Who is they?
    The local population, local Germans.
    After the war, after the war, when you talk to them,
    [SPEAKING GERMAN].
    They didn't know anything.
    Like, they were on the planet Mars.
    We were there every day.
    They saw it, they saw us.
    We were vermin.
    So in fact [INAUDIBLE]
    [SPEAKING GERMAN]
    It was like, again, like they were on Mars.
    They didn't-- they were total oblivion.
    Where were you liberated?
    So yeah.
    Well, I was liberated-- you want me to follow it?
    Or you want--
    Yeah.
    Sure.
    Go ahead.
    Certainly.
    So to I went to, like I said, [? Schlieben ?] over there.
    We worked there.
    And from there they took us.
    It was already towards the end of it.
    They took us to Allach Dachau.
    That's an annex?
    That's the annex.
    It was Dachau, and it was Allach.
    But we came to Allach Dachau, again,
    we saw already on the other side,
    because we came into the [NON-ENGLISH],,
    where you come into the reception or whatever.
    The [NON-ENGLISH].
    I looked around, and I saw people walking around naked
    with--
    this was already, I want you to know, I got liberated April 30,
    '45.
    It was winter.
    In Bavaria, it was winter.
    So it must have been--
    I don't know-- the end of March, whatever.
    And it was in April, the beginning of April.
    Because we weren't too long in Allach.
    I saw people naked going around with blankets.
    You know--
    Shivering.
    Shivering and all that.
    So then I found out the summer, they
    told us that they don't have clothes they could give us.
    The reason they couldn't-- because they didn't have any
    clothes they could give us.
    So what happened with this, as we were coming in,
    they were getting our clothing, and they
    were disinfecting our clothing.
    So later on, the groups that came later
    got the clothes from the groups that went before.
    Previous.
    So I said, all right.
    I got time.
    So I always fell back, fell back.
    And I came already with the later--
    when I started to see the other side people coming out
    of their clothes, then I went into the tent.
    And to my luck, I got a Russian--
    it was a big Russian [NON-ENGLISH],,
    what they call it.
    You know, the underclothes, which
    is a long coat, which had warm wool clothes.
    I got a this--
    the hats, the Russian hat.
    And I got a jacket or something.
    I got a pair of pants or something.
    And I got a hold of a bag, these Russians, they like to wear--
    Yes, yes.
    But I had my possessions, which, a canister, you know,
    a tin canister.
    That was-- without it, you could starve,
    because if you got the soup, where you gonna take it?
    You got something, you know.
    And you fashioned yourself a piece of tin.
    You made a little indentation to make it like a spoon.
    And that's what you had.
    So at least--
    I used it in the daytime was [INAUDIBLE]..
    And I used it for the night to cover myself.
    And that's how I survived over there.
    From there we were taken about a week prior.
    A week prior we were taken.
    We walked from Allach Dachau we walked to the Munich
    bahnhof, Munich bahnhof.
    We were put in cold cars--
    these boxcars open and with barbed wire on top.
    And the night that we-- we stayed overnight.
    We came in the evening, like, we stayed over.
    Overnight the Allies bombed the Munich bahnhof.
    They bombed the next door to us.
    The bombs were all over.
    You couldn't go anywhere.
    Then in the morning, we started to move.
    We started to move.
    We were told that we were going to Mauthausen, which
    was an extermination camp.
    But anyway, I think we went about three days out
    on the train-- on the boxcar train.
    It was electrically powered.
    And we were going towards Starnberg.
    As a matter of fact, I got a map of where I was
    and where they brought us.
    The Allies came.
    And again, at night you could hear heavy--
    the Allies, the Americans.
    You could hear the heavy artillery.
    You could see the flames, the explosions, the bombs,
    whatever it was.
    But you could see like, lightning.
    Way in the background, you could hear things.
    To us, it was sweet music.
    So the Allies came.
    And the airplanes, and they--
    with a machine gun they cut through the power lines.
    So the locomotive, the engine was without--
    Power.
    --power.
    And we were stranded in the middle.
    A day before we got liberated, all of a sudden--
    two days before, our [NON-ENGLISH],,
    in the boxcar that we were, we had already a guard.
    He must've been about 70 years old.
    He was a barber from Berlin.
    An old man, you know, he was the [NON-ENGLISH],,
    with a big rifle.
    As a matter of fact, every time he
    wanted to go down or come up--
    I was near the door--
    he gave me the rifle.
    And I had to hold him by the hand
    to help him to go down and help bring him up.
    He used to tell us, he said, what do they want from me?
    He said, I'm supposed to be home behind my stove
    and keep my hands behind my stove.
    He said, what do they want from me?
    He was like a home guard or something like that.
    Over there, two days before, he told us
    that the following day they're going
    to have a delegation the Red Cross from Switzerland.
    And they're going to give us Red Cross packages.
    So we shouldn't worry about it.
    Nothing's going to happen to us anymore.
    We're going to be liberated.
    The question of time.
    The following day came a transport with trucks.
    And each boxcar had their own representative, like, you know,
    and I was chosen over there.
    And I went down there, and we had an amount of people and me.
    We're a couple of guys.
    And we got a box of Red Cross packages for everybody
    to distribute for everybody.
    Excuse me, Mr. Einhorn.
    Yes.
    I'm afraid we have to stop.
    OK.
    And this has been a wonderful tape.
    You were just so descriptive.
    That's it?
    Finished?
    Well, we can continue outside.
    Oh, OK.
    But right now--
    I was going to tell you-- all right.
    Yeah.
    We want to hear more.
    And thank you very, very much.
    "We now continue with interviewing Mr. Sol Einhorn."
    We now continue with interviewing Mr Sol Einhorn.
    Mr. Einhorn, you were going to tell us something
    about some Red Cross packages.
    Yes.
    Like I mentioned before, that we got, each one, every one of us,
    got a Red Cross package.
    A day prior to our liberation, you know,
    the Red Cross representatives told us
    we shouldn't worry anymore.
    That it's just a question of hours, that we're going to be
    liberated.
    After we got the Red Cross packages,
    naturally, you know we were all starving.
    And for all the years of starvation,
    everybody open them up.
    And among the contents over there, we had there,
    there was a can of butter.
    You had a powdered milk.
    And we were liberated in the April.
    It was snows and the rains, soaking rain.
    We were all drenched.
    Because we were in open coal, the open boxcars.
    So everybody was, the clothes were drenched through.
    The Germans, they gave us a little latitude.
    And we're able to go down, start making a little fire.
    And you took the powdered milk.
    You boiled a little hot water to get something, in order,
    in you.
    And people were opening up.
    And they opened up the butter.
    And they consumed the cans of butter.
    And it was a heart-wrenching sight,
    hours later and a day later.
    Here we were free.
    We were free people.
    And from overdoing it, from being hungry,
    instead to do it step-wise, people are overdoing it.
    And they got diarrhea.
    They got all kind of those.
    And there was no help and they were dying.
    Here we got liberated.
    After going through the whole thing,
    yet at the end of the line, this is it.
    And they were beyond help.
    You couldn't help him.
    Because out of from overindulgence,
    whatever you call it.
    There was nobody there to tell us.
    The hardest thing was moderation?
    Yes.
    And I mean, I had the presence of mind, that I didn't do it.
    As a matter of fact, later on, when
    we did get liberated already, and like I said,
    we were liberated by the Seventh Army.
    And this, again, the soldiers battled bad.
    They were in battle, all them.
    They were seasoned soldiers.
    When they saw this sight of us, they were crying like children.
    Now, after we got liberated already, so we found,
    they had one, they were closed boxcars, with the--
    with the food that was going with us.
    And naturally, we were opened, you
    know, everybody rushed it in order to open the doors,
    tried to grab.
    There was the bread.
    There were any provisions that we could get a hold of.
    This, so and like I mentioned before,
    we were four guys, like the four musketeers.
    We held there, we held together.
    During the time, everybody was trying
    to get to that car for the provisions,
    in order to get, to scrounge some food.
    That was the most of our mind was the food, in order
    to get your belly full.
    In that process, so everybody was milling around, naturally.
    Everybody was milling around.
    And my future mother-in-law, which is now deceased,
    she is deceased the last October, she--
    she was over there in that melee.
    And one of my friends, one of the four, he noticed her.
    He recognized that she was from his hometown.
    Naturally, not having any relations,
    any anybody with you, everybody was looking for a straw
    to carry, to hold onto it.
    So he ran over to her.
    And he said, you know, he called her [YIDDISH],, because.
    So she looked around.
    And naturally, he embraced and all that.
    And you know, wanted to leech onto her.
    Because he found something to cleave onto her.
    so he says, I, could I be with you?
    She said yes.
    And then we found out that she had the two daughters.
    And he says could I stay with you?
    She said, yeah, naturally.
    He said yeah, but I got three more friends.
    Hey, come on in.
    They could all stay with us.
    And that's how we got, more or less, together.
    Because I was with him, you know?
    I didn't have anybody else to hold onto.
    So we got together .
    And we stayed--
    Was she from your town?
    No, no, no.
    No, it was a different, you know what I mean.
    She is from near, from a small town, [NON-ENGLISH],,
    which is near Lodz.
    So you didn't know her at the time?