Leon Kopelman's War Memories: Occupation, Ghetto

I was born in Warsaw in 1924. My parents had a daughter before me , Guta , born on October 27.10.1918, 2, who graduated from the Teachers' Union Gymnasium. She studied at the University of Warsaw for two years, married, and in 1938 emigrated with her husband to Palestine. Today, she lives in Israel.

My parents owned a shop in Warsaw, which my mother ran. The company was called "Bronisława." It was a very nice clothing store. Our economic situation was quite decent. We weren't very wealthy, but we lived well. My younger years passed without any problems. I had many friends, mostly Poles. Our neighborhood was inhabited by Poles; there were few Jews living there. Jews generally lived in the so-called Jewish quarter, the famous Nalewki Street.

I attended a Polish school on Poznańska Street in Warsaw. I graduated from that school and studied at a middle school in Warsaw for two years.

Unfortunately, that was the end of my education. Then, as we know, there was the war for six years. After that, I had various adventures, wanting to go to Palestine to be with my father and sister. Unfortunately, my mother was captured by the Germans during one of the ghetto operations in 1942 and deported to Treblinka. Sadly, I haven't heard from her since.

Let's go back to the beginning of the war. Before the war, when it was known that war would surely break out—so all the press reported—we undertook various preparations. Among other things, we dug twisted trenches in public parks, gardens, flower beds, and yards to serve as air-raid shelters. I personally belonged to an organization called LOPP (League of Air and Anti-Gas Defense). Everyone was waiting for the outbreak of war, which came on September 1, 1939.

When the Germans began their invasion of Poland that same morning, they began bombing Warsaw heavily. Many buildings were damaged, there were many deaths and injuries, and panic broke out. Time flew by. We lived on the ground floor in a rather large apartment. It consisted of three rooms and a huge kitchen, which was connected to our shop at 7 Krucza Street.

The kitchen was located slightly lower down and had a separate entrance from the gate. Our house was enormous, with three courtyards. Our residents, especially those from the upper floors, gathered in our kitchen. There were dozens of people there altogether. Everyone thought our kitchen would be relatively safe during the bombing. Fortunately, our house was undamaged. There were still a lot of people in the kitchen, and my mother tried to keep them occupied. She had large pots in which she cooked food for the neighbors. Unfortunately, our supplies quickly ran out, and the boys and I went looking for a way to replenish them.

In the Swiss Valley , when the fires started, state food warehouses were opened, and everyone could take whatever they could. We took sacks of flour, sugar, and other products and lugged them home to Krucza Street. They proved very useful later. There was a pickle factory in Czerniaków. When it caught fire from German bombs, an announcement was made on the radio that anyone could go there and take large cans of pickles for free. Of course, we jumped at the chance.

As you can see, the supply situation was rather difficult. There was no meat at all. Sometimes you could get a little meat from dead horses lying around. I remember how delicious the horse meat we sometimes ate was.

About a week after the war began, the mayor of Warsaw announced that men, from young to old, were to evacuate Warsaw and begin marching east toward Russia. I decided to go with the others. I said goodbye to my mother, grabbed my backpack, and started walking toward the Poniatowski Bridge. Approaching the bridge, I saw enormous masses of people. The bridge was pitch black with them. I wondered what would become of all this people. They were all walking. Where would they go, I thought, a few kilometers to the countryside. Where would they stay overnight, what would they eat, and what would they do next. I decided it was a stupid idea, I wouldn't go any further, I was going home.

It turned out I made the right decision. Those who continued were strafed by German planes. Many were killed or wounded, others even reached various villages and towns, but there was no place to sleep or food for them. Most, therefore, returned to Warsaw after considerable difficulty.

Then the occupation began. The Germans rounded up people of Semitic appearance, Jews, on the streets and forced them to work. They caught me too. There were many ruined houses in the area, including the German embassy or consulate on Piękna Street, near my house. We had to work several hours every day cleaning up the damage, and of course, there was no payment for it. This went on for several days.

Then an announcement was made, ordering Jews to prepare to leave the Aryan part of Warsaw. They were all to move to the Jewish district, where a ghetto would be built specifically for Jews. The possibility of exchanging apartments with Poles currently living in the area where the ghetto was to be established was permitted. Poles were also forced to leave their apartments and houses located within the future ghetto. Advertisements offering apartments for exchange appeared around the city.

We found a gentleman who lived on Ceglana Street . Although his apartment was much smaller than ours, just two rooms, we were pleased that we had managed to make the switch at all. Using a horse-drawn cart, we transported our belongings and moved into the ghetto.

After some time, the Jews, at the Germans' behest, began building a wall around the ghetto, which included several gates. Jews were forbidden to leave the ghetto, and Poles were prohibited from entering without special permission. Posters appeared around the city, claiming that the ghetto was rife with various infectious diseases, such as typhus and others, and that it was best not to approach it.

The ghetto was in terrible disarray. The Germans had brought Jews here from all the towns around Warsaw. Everything was overcrowded. There were no cleaning supplies, and disease began to spread. The Jewish poor who were brought here had no means of subsistence. People had nothing to eat and nowhere to sleep.

Then further actions began, during which Jews were rounded up, taken to the Umschlagplatz and from there to camps.

In one such operation, after about two years in the ghetto, in June 1942, my mother was captured. When I returned from work, she was gone. She was taken to Treblinka, and unfortunately, I never heard from her again.

Things were getting worse in the ghetto. There was nothing to eat. Almost daily, the bodies of children who had died of starvation were found. The bodies of the deceased children were gathered onto carts and taken away to be buried in mass graves.

I reported for work with the Germans. The Germans came to the ghetto and took groups of Jews to various jobs. I was in one of them, a group of 30. We worked in Warsaw on Narutowicz Square. Before the war, there was a student residence there, a huge building with perhaps 1.000 rooms. Now the German gendarmerie was stationed there. They came to the ghetto to pick us up every day.

We unloaded coal and coke from railway wagons onto carts. Two of us unloaded 20 to 30 tons, while the others unloaded the carts at a house on Narutowicz Square. We also worked in the stables, because the Germans, the so-called Schutzpolizei, also had horse-drawn units. The work was hard, but at least we got something to eat there and were even allowed to take some food home with us. So it went, day after day.

In 1942, there was one of those repeated operations that occurred every few months. The Germans didn't come to take us to work, and we hid from the roundup in a hole we had previously dug. We placed an old door in the hole, concealing the entrance, and hid there to wait out the operation.

During the next operation, which began in January 1943, we hid as usual in our hole; the door was already covered with snow. Meanwhile, we showed the gendarme who was coming to collect us where our hiding place was. The Germans were desperate for our work; without us, they were completely helpless. During the January operation, Hans, the name of the gendarme from Narutowicz Square, arrived in the ghetto in an armored truck.

He knew where to find us. He approached the snow-covered door and called out, "It's me, Hans. Come out." We emerged from our hiding place. He said he'd come to take us to work. We wondered if he was telling the truth or if he wanted to finish us off. Part of our group hid in a shelter in the house across the street. We debated among ourselves, unsure what to do. Should we call our friends to come out or pretend we didn't know where the rest of the group were? Finally, we decided that if we were lost, we and the rest of the group would be lost together. We went to them, and they too left their hiding place. The gendarme took us out of the ghetto, and the operation lasted a relatively short time.

That's when fighting began in the ghetto. Underground groups from the ŻOB (Jewish Combat Organization) took up arms against the Germans. After the shooting, the Germans temporarily withdrew from the ghetto. During the shooting, we remained in the Student Dormitory on Narutowicz Square. We went to work there until April 1943, when the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising broke out. From then on, we were no longer employed.

I have a book I received from Mr. Leon Wanat a few years ago . It's called "Behind the Walls of Pawiak ." Mr. Wanat was once a writer at Pawiak and kept various lists of former prisoners. Among other things, this book contains extensive lists of Poles who were arrested by the Germans at the time. Many of them were imprisoned at Pawiak, with a significant number executed in the building opposite Pawiak, while others were executed in former Zamenhof Square. Others were sent to camps in various directions. The book was published by Książka i Wiedza (Book and Knowledge). It went through several editions.

After the ghetto was sealed, the Germans established a supposed Jewish police force, known in German as the Hilfspolizei —auxiliary police. Among other things, their task was to round up Jews in difficult circumstances and bring them to the Umschlagplatz, from where wagons departed for the camps. The ghetto was filled with people living in very poor conditions. They had nowhere to live and nothing to eat. Therefore, the Germans employed various tactics to persuade Jews to voluntarily report to the Umschlagplatz. Among other things, they promised that if anyone showed up at the Umschlagplatz voluntarily, they would immediately receive 2 kg of bread, jam, and so on. Some believed them and went. But the Germans lied the entire time. They wanted to encourage as many Jews as possible to be deported, and this was a deportation to death.

Another time, they announced that anyone with a sewing machine could report to a so-called "shed," a workshop run by the Tebens company or others. There was the Schulz company, and there were brushmakers making brushes. It was said that anyone who registered for work there would receive a form of identification from the Germans, a so-called " Arbeitskarte ," which supposedly protected them from deportation. As long as they had it and worked, they would be safe. Later, it turned out that during the next operation, they rounded up and deported everyone, both those with and without employment certificates. The same thing happened with the Jewish policemen. The Germans promised them that no harm would befall them or their families. Later, it turned out that they had also exterminated their families.

Letters arrived, supposedly from the Trawniki labor camp. They were written by Jews. I believe they were indeed written by Jews, but under duress. These letters claimed that the conditions there were excellent and that it was paradise on Earth. Everything was organized so that people would volunteer to leave.

I've already mentioned that conditions in the ghetto were terrible. Children were starving. There was no sanitation. Epidemics of typhus and other diseases began. Therefore, the Germans wrote on the ghetto walls and gates that it was a dangerous area and that no one was allowed to approach due to disease and the threat of epidemics.

Deportations took place every few months. After each such operation, the Germans would create a new scandal, claiming they were recruiting people for work again, that this time they would provide them with such solid IDs that they would guarantee their freedom and safety. Later, it turned out to be another fraud. People had no other option. They were nourished by the illusion that this might help them survive.

The last operation began on April 19, 1943. By then, we were no longer going to work. As before, the Germans, upon entering the ghetto, were shelled and suffered losses. So they changed tactics. They surrounded the entire ghetto with a large force, brought up artillery, and began burning down house after house. We supposedly had various bunkers and shelters there, but there was no escape from the fire. In this situation, everyone, including those in underground organizations and fighting the Germans, had no choice but to surrender. The Germans took everyone to the Umschlagplatz. I decided I didn't want to be burned, threw down my weapon, and went downstairs with the others.

Conditions at the Umschlagplatz were terrible. The Germans were shooting overhead. There was great fear. I found myself in a group the Germans had selected, about 30-40 people. They lined us up and asked each of us what our profession was, what we did. I had no profession; I didn't know what to say. I heard the man standing in front of me say he was a driver, and another that he was a mechanic. I thought I'd say the same thing. When they approached me, I said I was a car mechanic. The driver, the mechanic, myself, and a few others were taken to one side. The Germans took our entire group to the railway workshops on the Ost Bahn in Warsaw. We worked there for three months, working on various types of iron. It was relatively close to the ghetto; we could hear cannon fire in the distance and see flames, especially at night. The ghetto burned for over three months.

During the final liquidation of the ghetto, a small group of Jews escaped through the sewers. Most of them later joined the partisans, and some survived the war.

One day, we saw Germans with machine guns surrounding the barracks where we were staying and selecting 30 of our group. We were taken to Gęsiówka. From Gęsiówka, we were transported daily to Dynasy, where there were two German car garages. One garage was for the Schupo, the German gendarmerie. The other garage was used to repair cars belonging to the Gestapo, whose headquarters was on Aleja Szucha.

We worked there alongside Polish workers. The Germans paid the Poles. We weren't paid for our work; we were just delivered some food at Gęsiówka. After a while, we met the Polish workers, and they told us that Jews had also been working in the garages for several years before us. They were specialists who knew their craft. Then a dispute arose between the Germans from the Einsatzgruppe deporting Jews and the garage management. The former decided to take the Jews working in the garages with them. The management resisted, saying they absolutely didn't agree to this; they didn't want to lose good specialists. They said it would jeopardize the efficiency of the police and Gestapo vehicles. This went on for some time.

Finally, the Germans from the Einsatzgruppe got their way and took the Jews from the garage. They told the management that there was no problem, they would get new Jews. It's unknown what happened to the Jewish mechanics they took. They likely went to an extermination camp. And that's how we appeared in the garages. Understandably, there weren't really any skilled mechanics among us. However, we helped the Poles working there as best we could and slowly learned what we needed to do.

One day, we were told we were being transferred from Gęsiówka to Pawiak. This was indeed the case. From there, we were transferred daily, and sometimes returned on foot, under escort, from Dynasy to Pawiak.

At Pawiak, we repeatedly saw Polish hostages being shot. The Germans periodically arrested the Polish elite, mostly doctors, lawyers, and other such figures. Notices were posted around town stating that if there was an attack on a German, these hostages would be killed. And indeed, that's how they did it. We often saw them in the early morning hours, leading hostages away. They were completely naked, only their long johns, their eyes covered with a cloth, their hands tied behind their backs. And we heard, and sometimes saw, that they were being shot in the gateway opposite Pawiak, on Pawia Street. There was also Zamenhoffa Square, where they were shot. This happened from time to time.

We went to work. There were various Jewish functionaries at Pawiak who did various jobs. There was a sheet metal worker and his son, his name was Fronenberg , and he had a son named Max. There was also a guy whose name I don't remember, whom we called "Rabbit Man." He bred rabbits at Pawiak for the Germans, who took them home with them when they went on vacation to Germany. Apparently, meat was scarce in Germany at the time.

There was also one who ran the bathhouse, because there were no sinks in the cells at Pawiak. Once a week, they took us to the bathhouse where we could wash ourselves. There was also a large carpentry shop where Jews worked. In this carpentry shop, it later turned out, they were digging a tunnel, intending to dig a path to the city sewers.