Testimony of Bernard Weinsaft

I, Bernard (Nadzio) Weinsaft, lived through the three years of German occupation with a lot of terrifying incidents occurring during that period. But there were two particular episodes that stand out, where my life hung in the balance, and these are deeply etched in my memory.

The first incident occurred right after the Germans entered our little town of Skalat. Jewish refugees from Germany had told us that front-line soldiers resented the Jews for coming out of their homes to watch the soldiers entering a town. My mother, father and I, therefore, locked all the doors and barricaded ourselves in the house.

The Germans marched into town on Friday, July 4th, at night. We spent the whole day of Saturday, July 5th, peeking out of the windows. We saw our Gentile neighbors running amok through the streets and trying to break into the Jewish homes. They tried to break into our house but did not succeed. Perhaps they looked for easier prey.

We weren't as lucky the next day, Sunday, July 6th. This time, the German soldiers were roaming the streets, led by our Gentile neighbors who were pointing out the Jewish homes. The Germans were more vicious. They broke through our front door as we made our way down to the cellar from an entrance within the house.

The safety in our cellar didn't last very long. We heard the Germans threaten to lob grenades down the cellar unless we came out. My parents decided to come out the front entrance from the cellar, where we were met by German soldiers. My father was taken away to work and my mother was left alone. In all that confusion, I darted away, soldiers in pursuit. I zigzagged through the narrow streets, and escaped to my grandparents' house, where I ran down to their cellar and hid in a chicken cage.

I spent the whole day in hiding, and the only thing which saved me was the fact that the entrance to the cellar was flooded, and the German soldiers did not wish to get their boots wet. In the evening, I came out of my hiding place. On this occasion my father was fortunate to be released by the soldiers. A lot of others were not as fortunate. I spent the next day in the cellar.

Once the front-line soldiers left, we settled in for the long three years of occupation that followed.

It had been rumored that there was going to be an 'action' in the Skalat Camp. Everybody expected it. Not having anywhere to go, I remained in the camp, but I was up the whole night. I was restless and frightened, and had a strange feeling that if I could only hide out for one more day, I would somehow be able to go on for a while longer.

At dawn on June 30, 1943, the Jewish policemen were away from their posts, and I was able to walk out of the camp. I walked over to a Gentile's house, lay down in the backyard, and overcome with exhaustion, fell asleep. I was awakened by the Ukrainian police and taken back to the camp. There, I found other Jews sitting on the ground. I was searched, told to sit and keep my arms above my head. Later, we were loaded onto flat trucks that had very low sides. We were ordered to lie down on our backs and other people were piled on top of us. This was probably done to prevent people from escaping.

We were taken to pre-dug graves outside of our town. While we were walking from the road to the graves, one of the German officers decided to pick twenty young men and bring them to the camp so as to lure the remaining Jews back to camp for a final 'action' at a later date. I was one of the lucky ones who was picked and given a new lease on life. A few weeks later, the Russian partisans appeared in Skalat. I joined them to fight the Germans, and that's how I survived.

Bernard (Nadzio) Weinsaft
New York 1995

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