Chaim

“Aged 14. Son of a farmer from Galicia. Perished together with thousands of young Jews and murdered in a camp in Pustkow. .”

“My dear parents;

If all the heavens were paper and all the seas of the world were ink, I could not describe to my suffering to you and all that I see around me.

The camp is in a clearing. They drive us to work in the forest at daybreak. My feet are bleeding because they took my shoes away. We work all through the day with almost nothing to eat and at night we sleep on the bare floor (they took our coats away too).

Every night drunken soldiers come and beat us with wooden clubs and my body is black with scabs and bruises. It looks like a piece of charred wood. Sometimes they throw us a few raw carrots or a turnip and it’s terrible: everyone starts fighting to try and get just the tiniest piece or one of the leaves. The day before yesterday two boys escaped so they lined us up and shot every fifth person in the row. I wasn’t the fifth but I know I won’t get out of here alive.

I bid farewell to you all, dear Mama, dear Papa, dear brothers and sisters, and I am crying …”

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1 Response to “Chaim”


  1. 1 Alice May 3, 2006 at 9:22 pm

    Where is this from??


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