The Day I Survived the Pogrom in the Bashtis

I was born on December 9, 1922 in Skalat, Poland. My name at that time was Isaac Birnbaum On February 1, 1949 I migrated to the United States and changed my name to Isidor Butel.

In Skalat, I lived with my mother, Sarah Birnbaum (nee Parnes), my father, Simon Birnbaum, my sisters Bleema and Laya and my brothers Moishe, Kuni, Yossel and Aley. My sister Bleema married Mailach Kornweitz and they had two young daughters named Goldie and Pepe. My brother Moishe married a woman named Laya and they had one little boy. In 1940, my brothers Moishe, Yossel, Kuni and Aley and my brother-in-law Mailach were active in military service. I remained in Skalat with the rest of my family.

On July 6, 1941, I was 19 years old. I was in my house with my mother, my father, my sisters
Bleema and Laya and my two nieces. Out of fear, we were all confined to the house. I seem to recall that this day was not the Sabbath, since no one went to the synagogue and on the previous evening my mother did not light the Sabbath candles. On that day which I believe was a Sunday, I recall seeing Gentile teenagers walking around with German soldiers, pointing out Jewish houses, and among them ours. In the morning, though I do not recall the exact time, approximately six teenagers, either Ukrainians or Poles, walked into our house. Since the doors were unlocked, they entered our house freely. Once in the house, the Germans ordered me and my father out of the house. In German they told us to “Come out, come, come” as they waved their hands summoning us to follow them outside. They did not hit us and they did not shout. They spoke firmly, with authority, expecting submission and compliance.

My father and I offered no resistance to their command. We stepped out of the house and proceeded to walk with the soldiers, stopping at a neighbor's house. Then we waited outside while the Germans entered a neighbor's house and brought out two teenage brothers by the names of Aley and Dovid. The Jewish teenagers joined us and then, accompanied by the German soldiers, we all walked as a group a distance of approximately one mile outside of town. The Germans led us to an empty lot where we saw a group of about thirty Jewish men. Among them were both young and older Jews. All of these people were from my home town.

When we arrived where the group of Jews were assembled, my father and I were separated. I watched as the German soldiers led my father away. I didn't know where the Germans were taking him and I didn't know what was going to happen to him. I did not have an opportunity to say anything to my father. I looked at him and those next to him. When they took my father away, my mind went blank. I kept on looking at my father and he 1ooked back at me as he left. He too didn't say anything. He just went with them and that was the last time I ever saw my father.

After my father was taken away, I remained standing in a group with about fourteen other teenage Jewish boys from Skalat. Several German soldiers led us all a distance of approximately one-half mile from this location. We were led to a p ace where there were trees, more German soldiers, and military trucks. The Germans gave us axes and ordered us to chop down the trees, chop the branches off the trees, and then camouflage the trucks with the branches. While I chopped the trees, the Germans did not hit me. I did not think of trying to escape though I wanted very much to go home. As I chopped the trees with the other teenage boys, we did not speak to each other. No one said a word or expressed any emotion. We were all like stones.

We continued to work for hours, until it became dark. Then, the Germans took us to the “bashtis” (towers), which were about one and one-half mile or so from the place where we were chopping the trees. The “bashtis” were located in the center of our town and were used by soldiers during World War I. I was familiar with the “bashtis” and had seen them from the outside many times in the past. The Germans ordered us to run into the “bashtis.” At their command, we all ran inside where it was completely dark. Suddenly, the Germans started shooting their machine guns from the outside into the “bashtis.” I heard the

[Page 90]

bullets being fired inside but I heard no screams or cries from any of the other Jewish boys who were there with me. While the Germans were shooting, I fell, pressing my face and body against the floor. Then, when the shooting ceased, some German soldiers came inside the “bashtis.” Though I could not see them, I could hear them checking the bodies to see if anyone was still alive. I don't know how many soldiers came inside because it was dark, but I could hear them moving bodies around. One soldier kicked me with his foot to see if I was alive. I was lying motionless, face down and pretended that I was dead. As the Germans checked the bodies, they did not speak and they did not shine any flashlights. I remained on the floor in the same position. Some time passed and I no longer heard any sounds from inside or outside of the “bashtis.” I believed, therefore, that the Germans had left. More time passed. After a while I stood up in the dark and made my way to the entrance.

I looked outside and saw that no one was there and that the Germans were gone. It was approximately 11:00 p.m. I walked out of the “bashtis,” leaving from the same entrance through which I was driven in by the Germans. The doors at the entrance of the “bashtis” had been removed and I was able to walk around the back and into a square. This square was a place where people used to play tennis, but at this hour it was deserted. I quickly left the “bashtis” and ran home. In the dark, I crossed over puddles and running water, and made my way back to my neighborhood. I did not go straight to my house. Instead, I went into a stable owned by a neighbor, Yoini Drat, which was located across the street from my house. I then stood at the door of the stable and waited to see someone from my town. When it became light, I saw a teenage girl, Chajka Sass, pass by. I opened the door and called her over. She was the first person who saw me after my escape from the “bashtis.” I asked her to go to my house and tell my mother and my family that I was alive and that I was in the stable. A little later, I went home and related to my mother and my sisters what had happened to me, and that my father and I were separated. My mother asked me where my father was and I told her that I did not know where the Germans had taken him nor what had happened to him,

When I was in the “bashtis,” I was grazed by bullets in three places: at the bridge of my nose, on the inside crease of my left elbow and near the ankle of my right foot. During my ordeal of being shot at I was like a stone and did not feel any pain. It was much later, the next morning, that I remember feeling pain. It was also later, either in the stable or in my house, when I realized that I had been shot and observed blood from the bullet wounds on my clothes.

I am the only person who came out alive from the “bashtis” on that day.

When all of these things were happening, I was not fearful or nervous. I had ho feelings about anything; I didn't cry.The only thoughts I had were about my father. I thought, if he were alive, he would have come back too. But he didn't. Nor did Aley or Dovid or the other Jewish souls who were driven into the “bashtis.” I was the only one to come out of the “bashtis,” as well as the only survivor of those who were caught in this pogrom.

My thanks to my daughter, Linda Butel Kish, for setting forth this event in writing.

Isidor Butel (Isaac Birnbaum)
Brooklyn, New York 1994

[Page 91]

Дата добавления: 2015-11-14