I entered a farmer’s house – an acquaintance – and told him what was going on. I asked his wife to go to the city and find out what the situation was. When she came back she said that in our house all was well but that Jews were killed. I returned. Dead silence in the streets. It became clear that Jewish youth ran away and hid in the corn-field. The S.S. people found them and executed them in the city square: Zavvel Feinberg (son of the corn merchant); Ze’ev Pik; Kessler (grandson of the owner of the bakery); a yeshiva student – son of Huda, the butcher. The corpses were loaded on two wagons and were driven to the Jewish cemetery.

On one of the days, a Jewish youth -Yoshka Palei – was executed because people informed about him that he was a member of the Komsomol. All these were just a pale prologue to the future calamity.

We were marching, a group of Jews, to work on the road with shovels on our shoulders. On the way we met two German gendarmes. We greet them taking off our hats. With a thick pipe in their mouth, approached us and asked: - “who, gave you permission, damned Jews, to greet us?” We answered in the routine way: “Ya vol – You are right”. A torrent of blows ensued mercilessly, by rubber clubs, until we bleed. When returning from work, we met a Belorussian policeman and two German gendarmes. After this morning ‘lesson’ we kept quiet, our heads bent. They stopped us with rage: -- “Damn you, why don’t you greet us?” and we were flogged again.

Ten days prior to Rosh Hashanah the order came to dismantle all the shops in the market. The temporary “Jewish Council” organized a group of 74 workers. Each day the group started from the building of bikur kholim [infirmary for the poor] where the “Jewish Council” was located, to the market square. The two executioners, Kokh and Noyman used to visit the place often and would flog the workers cruelly.

We decided to ask the “Jewish Council” to send one of the clerks to negotiate with the murderer and offer him a gold watch to stop this tantalization. Lipa Mishlevski carried out the mission. Noyman accepted the watch but after a while renewed his cruelties. The dismantling of the shops had become a blood bath for the Jewish workers.

On the eve of Yom Kippur, the rabbis of the city went from house to house and demanded from the Jews not to absent themselves from work the next day. We all fasted the whole day and worked as usual in the barracks. We were turned into horses harnessed to carriages and dragged the refuse and manure from the horse stalls.

On the fateful Friday, in the morning, Belarussian policemen and German gendarmes passed in the streets of the city and carried out arrests according to a specific list. Among them were:

  1. Khayim Tarabur
  2. Yoseph Heler
  3. Moshe Plaskovitzki
  4. Shmuel Meirovitz
  5. Eliyahu Manir
  6. Hershl Shkliar
  7. Velvel and Ester Kornos
  8. Tzira Koptzov-Finkel
  9. Itche Fish’s son
  10. Ben-Zion Fish
  11. Daughter of Avraham Heler
  12. Shalom Rabinovitz
  13. Bebe Altshuler
  14. The young son of Yitzkhak Feder the watchmaker, and others.

I saw them towards evening, carried in a cargo vehicle next to our house to the sand pits in the Catholic cemetery. They saw me and parted from me with a hand movement. We saw the vehicle when it returned with the clothes of the murdered. Some Jews were on the vehicle with tearful eyes – they were the undertakers to cover the murdered with sand.

I especially remember the murder of the woman Liba Lev, granddaughter of Yitkhak Reuven the blacksmith on Slonim Street. She left her house forgetting to put the yellow patch on her coat. Unfortunately, Commandant Koch noticed her, flogged her and brought her to the police quarters. From there she was taken to the sand pits. She looked awful – her hair disarrayed, eyes expressing deadly fright and she could hardly drag her legs. Near our house I heard her cry out: “Yeshayah, were are they taking me”, and she plucked her hair.

The Gentiles, close to the scene of murder told that she struggled with her murderer for some time until he overpowered her and threw her into the pit, shooting her to death.

On Wednesday, October 29th, 1941, towards evening, when I returned home, A Belarussian who was appointed responsible for our street informed us of the order to assemble the next day, Thursday, 7 o’clock in the morning, with our women and children, in the market square. Our neighbors gathered in our house to consult what to do. The women and children were crying bitterly. We felt death above our heads.

I decided not to go out to the market but run away with my wife and sons. However, my wife changed her mind at the last moment. In the evening I took the two kids and went out. On the street there were already Belarussian guards to detain those who went out. “Return, Back” – they screamed. Here, this is my end, I thought. I returned home and through allies and paths I reached the back of the city. I laid the children on a lawn and returned home to talk the others into doing what I did. Weeping was heard in the house. My old mother recited Psalms. I begged them to follow me, at least wait outside the city until the next day. It was in vain. They were taken in by the rumors spread intentionally by the Germans that they were establishing a ghetto. Broken hearted I took leave of my wife, daughter and mother. I returned to my children who were asleep on the lawn. I woke them up and told them to conduct themselves quietly and calmly. We walked to the village lukevtza where we found an open barn. We entered and went to sleep on a heap of straw. Early morning, when the farmer came over, he became scared, ran away and then came back and locked the gate. I begged him to let us hide at least one more day. The noise of shooting reached us from Kletsk. The farmer was terrified and demanded that we leave his place. In the afternoon we set out in the direction of the forests surrounding the village. I knocked on the door of a farmer I knew. He opened the door and screamed: “you dog, why have you come here?” and ordered his son to drive to the city and inform the Germans of our location in the forest. I begged him, crying, not to do so and he finally was convinced. We ran again to the forest. Suddenly I felt someone was chasing me. I was surprised to see before me Shlomo Mishlevski. He was crying bitterly. I calmed him down with great difficulty. In the Lukevtzi forest we stayed until Friday morning and decided to return to the city, having no other choice. I walked first and 100 meters behind me Moshe Mishlevski and the children. I left them near the hill and approached my house slowly. I met a Christian neighbor and asked her to tell me the fate of my family. She gave me an angry answer: “Get out of here! I don’t want to talk to you”. I returned to the hill. We tried to get to the synagogue where, according to what I had heard, the Jews who stayed alive were imprisoned. Near the place we ran into two Belarussian policemen who attacked us, hit us and took us to the prison in the commandatura house. There I met the wife of Moshe Plaskovitzki (who was murdered among the first 35) and her two children, the carpenter Shaul Kaposta, his two children and his sister Feigl.

An hour later they brought in the undertaker Gimpel Reif and his three sons. This tall and husky man cried: “I am no longer an undertaker. I don’t know who will bury me”. After them they brought in the tanner, R’ Eliyahu David Lios, holding a psalms book in his hand. He was known in Kletsk as a tzadik who mortified himself, did not talk to anybody on Sabbaths and was occupied in studies and reciting Psalms. Later on, a very old man, a refugee from Poland, was detained and added to us. He was so stunned that when the commandant asked him where he came from, he uttered: from the N.K.V.D… and the commandant shot him on the spot.

On Saturday morning, they took out Gimpel and his three sons. Half an hour later, they threw their clothes into the prison – probably to frighten the detained. The same befell Shaul Kaposta and his family and to R’ eliyahu David Lios who did not stop reciting Psalms until the last moment. Khayim Noakh Tzerkovitz and his wife were also taken out but were returned after a while. They gave the Germans the gold and silver they owned. Towards evening the commandant Kokh came over and when asked how many we were, we answered: “sixty people”.

“Tomorrow you are all doomed”, he growled.

On Sunday, Kokh and his aids returned and made another selection. Twenty were sentenced to death, among them my younger son. – “Father, I want to live” he shouted. Taking advantage of an opportune moment he slipped away and quickly lay next to me and I covered him with a long coat.

The chosen 20 were taken out and after 15 minutes their clothes were thrown at us. After them other 20 were taken out – women and children.

After the massacre Kokh came again, approached me and started flogging me. I had an idea and I called out: “I am an expert carpenter”. –

“If you work diligently you will stay alive”, he bellowed.

We were left – 20 people.

Yaakov Kravietz committed suicide by hanging himself with help of a towel, in the prison building.

On Sunday, they took us out of the prison. We were ordered to take our belongings and we were led under guard to the Jewish street. A Jewish ghetto policeman greeted us. The news of our arrival has spread quickly in the ghetto. All the inhabitants surrounded us. The Jewish police dispersed them and they burst out crying.

Here we learned of the last news in the ghetto. Moshe Veinstein, a young man, died on Sunday morning. Yoseph Idels’ wife tried to get out of the ghetto to get her child whom she left in her former house. The moment she got out – she was shot to death. The young son of Zimel Feder (Sinievka street) died suddenly at the age of 13.

Carriages arrived with corpses on them. We led the coaches under guard to the Jewish cemetery. We return to the ghetto.

During the first days, a “Jewish Council” was organized. Its members were: Yitzkhak Tzerkovitz – chairman, Lipa Mishlevskb, Yehoshua Fish and several refugees.

Its first duty was to organize the work among the Jews. The workers went out every day to various plants such as: foundry, weaving factories, and oil/grease factory belonging to Davze and Olienik Moshe. Yoseph, Tzire Yente’s son was appointed supervisor over a special group of sixty women who were supposed to sweep and clean the market square and the streets. They were treated cruelly and barbarically. Beaten and bleeding they would all return to the ghetto. Near the entry gate they were searched meticulously and every article was robbed off them. Once, we were ordered to collect all the articles that were left in the houses of those who were murdered in the first massacre and transfer them to the barracks. Our hearts were torn with pain when we moved through the empty rooms where our murdered brothers, their wives and children, lived. It was our lot to collect their clothes, tools and furniture and load them onto the carriage of farmer Sokolovski.

We transferred the furniture to the former building of the yeshiva where they were put on sale to the Belarussians. The rest of the stuff was brought to the barracks. There, we had to sort them into 3 storage places.

I recall some episodes from those days. We reached the former house of Zelig Liss, owner of the fabric store, on Zaranovska Street. We entered the basement and we found there silver Jewelry. Embarrassed, I suggested to Sokolovski to take them for himself and hide them. He took my advice and right there and then he said that in case the Germans found them in his possession, he would reveal that I gave him this treasure. Luckily, it all passed with no mishap. We were not searched.

Once I was busy with my work. On the road approaching Nisvioz’, I met some of my Christian acquaintances who gave me eggs, bread and butter. I hid the bread and butter in my sleeve and put the eggs in my pockets. I returned satisfied from work. Two Belarussian policemen stopped us. I took out the eggs and pointed at them. One took the eggs, threw them at my face and did not let me wipe them so they could have their full fun.

In the ghetto, murdering was constant. Once, Kokh met Getzil Lutvin who grew a long beard. Kokh simply shot him to death. The same fate met the pharmacist Volovelski, his wife and daughter when they tried to steal into their house which was located near the border of the ghetto and take out some needed items.

On the spiritual level, there was a noticeable religious atmosphere even among the secular people. At three o’clock after midnight we held our morning prayer. On Mondays and Thursdays we fasted and said slikhot [praying for forgiveness prior to Holy Holidays].

Before Passover we decided to bake matzot [unleavened bread]. In Yoseph’s house (son of Tzira Yenta) a bakery was set up. We conducted a Seder. However, the voice of crying was heard in all houses.

Sometimes, towards evening, we played chess and card games, discussing our situation and chances. All of us understood that chances to be saved in a regular way were nil. We had already heard of the annihilation in the neighboring ghettos.

We started working in a nearby saw-mill. We had to saw wood. Here we often met neighboring farmers who told us that in the forests there were organized groups of partisans composed of Russian captives who had run away and also former Soviet activists. They warned us of the approaching danger of exterminatin and advised us to join the partisans. We passed the news to the Jews in the ghetto and started advocating an escape to the forests to join the partisan. When the “Jewish Council” heard of it, they called me to warn me that if I continued this propaganda which could stir an uprising in the ghetto - they would hand me over to the Germans.

I was extremely angry and I spoke bluntly claiming that here we were all expected to die for sure. They ordered to imprison me in the building of the “Cold Synagogue”. I spent there a whole night, on a bench. My children begged the Council to set me free. Early in the morning the commander of the Jewish police entered the synagogue and brought me before the Council. Here again they repeated their demand and warnings and I stuck to my views. I was finally set free under a harsh warning not urge the inhabitants of the ghetto to revolt.

Once, I was called by the chairman of the Council to his house for a chat. I found there the activist Dr. Dlugatch and his wife, Fradl Vilenchik and her husband and her son Israel and another doctor, a refugee from Warsaw. Tzerkovitz accused me. He claimed that with my propaganda I was liable to bring destruction to all the inhabitants of the ghetto. I detailed my claims and tried to convince them. This time, I noticed that they, too, felt and understood the naked truth and the illusion of their hopes and false promises.

These debates affected my health. I got sick and had to be hospitalized. When Kokh came to the ghetto I would jump out of bed and run to work.

Other episodes: on a bitter cold winter day we were working in the village Hrbonivshtzina. I asked the Belarussian supervisor to let me go to the nearest farm to get some food. He let me. I entered the nearest house and my farmers, acquaintances, fed me with milk and bread. Suddenly, two S.S. soldiers appeared and threw me out of the house hitting me with a shovel all over my body. Then they ordered me to run after their sledge and from there return to work. I dragged myself, with the remains of my strength, to my place of work and then I collapsed. I was carried by wagon to the ghetto hospital.

The nurse warned me that at any minute the sick would be exterminated. Kokh was processing the last preparations. Beaten and bleeding I was forced to return to my apartment in the ghetto.

One day three Red Army soldiers were caught after escaping from captivity. They were hung in the market square. Lipa Mishlevski was appointed to carry out the hanging. I saw him afterwards and he looked like somebody out his mind…

In the middle of summer, the rumors about the final liquidation of the ghetto were more pronounced. We were told of a meeting of the Municipal Counci in which the Komissar of the district participated. In that meeting they discussed the plans for the liquidation. Nutke, the tailor, told that a policeman took back the material he gave Nutke to sew suit for him. We heard similar stories from other craftsmen. A Belarussian policeman dropped a hint that some new developments were expected. In the neighboring shtetls the final liquidations had already been carried out.

The atmosphere in the ghetto became tenser from day to day. We decided that when the time came, we would set fire to the buildings, take advantage of the panic, break through the barbed wire fence, and flee to the forests. The Belarussian policemen were waiting impatiently like beasts of prey for our extermination, expecting to murder and loot the remains of our possessions. Some people committed suicide in those days of stressful expectation of the end. Mote son of Shimsha Tzirinski, his wife and his child, were found in their attic poisoned. The amount of poison was not big enough and they were saved. – “Why don’t you let us end our life in our own hands?” asked Tzirinski desperately. A week later he renewed his attempt and this time it was successful.

On the night between 21st and 22nd of July 1942, Jewish Kletsk was totally destroyed.

At midnight our guards noticed that the ghetto was surrounded on all sides by Belarussian policemen and German S.S. The panic and screams in the whole area of the ghetto were indescribable. People ran out of the houses with screams of despair.

The chairman of the Council, Tzirkivitz ran to the barbed wire fence and asked the Belarussians to shoot him on the spot. One of them fulfilled his wish. He feared torture. The executioners had special plans for him. They hoped to extort from him gold and valuables. Khayim, son of Moshe Mikhl Lev the butcher, did the same. He was shot by a Belarussian policeman near the fence upon his request.

Here are my impressions and memories of the last moments in the ghetto: I was running with some other Jews shouting aloud: “Jews, set fire to the houses and cut the barbed wire fence”.

Consequently thick smoke and fire spread quickly with the wind. Jews attacked the fence with whatever tools they had. The murderers were forced to move back because of the fire and smoke. This time they did not succeed with their preplanned operation.

A torrent of bullets from rifles and machine-guns was aimed from all sides at the running Jews. Many were killed by fire, smoke and bullets. The Jews broke through the fence in various directions away from the city but the bullets killed many of them.

This was my last moment in the burning Ghetto: My brother Yossl holding his child on his arm. A bullet hit the child. By brother ran like a madman holding the dead child. I shouted to him to leave the corpse and run after me. He did not and he disappeared. I had an axe with which I cut the barbed wire near the shulkhl, ran through the Jewish street to the Val in the direction of the estate Koliandre. A group of many Jews followed me. On the way the deadly bullets killed: Elkana the butcher’s son, David Bliakher, Donia Gelfand (son of Meir the grocer) and others. Shlomo Shmukler was wounded (now he is living in Canada) and Gershon Lisser (he perished later in Baranovitz).

On the way I met a youth from Warsaw, Gantovitz, (now in Israel) who was a refugee in Kletsk. We wandered together a few days through roads, paths, villages and forests to look for the partisans. Christians helped us with clothes and food but never let us stay in the houses even for short whiles because they feared informers.

We slept in the forests and tried to find out from the farmers where the partisans were located.

We reached a farm in the village Lazovitz. We knocked on the door of a house. They open the door and the woman screamed: eta Zshidki (these are Jews). They were shaking in panic and fear. We asked about the partisans. The farmer gave us bread and milk but begged us to leave the house. On the tall grass of Zarkova forest we lie to rest. At midnight we continue our walk and suddenly hear the noise of wheels. Gantovitz thought it belonged to the police. However the police don’t ride in the woods at night and neither do the farmers. Our heart beat from excitement and expectation – the signs point at partisans. Carriages come nearer. I notice people with guns and I call out in Russian: Spasaite Rebiata (save young man). The response was: Stai (stop). Don’t move! The partisans surround us. I notice that one of them is a Jew. They are very cautious. We walk in front and the partisans behind us with guns pointed at us. There is food on the carriages. We are hopeful and joyful. We are safe.

We were brought to the partisan camp in Rayovka forest. People are walking there free and safe. In the pasture – cows and horses are grazing. Some partisans are sitting in a circle eating and drinking. One plays the harmonica. Carriages with loads of everything - a new free world. I am worried about my two sons.

Two Jewish partisans led us to a certain place where we met a group of 5 Jews and one woman ready to eat. They invited us to eat with them. A Russian commander came over and investigated us. We told him everything. He treated us nicely and only scolded us for not having left the ghetto sooner. Before leaving he calmed us “you stay here, we will destroy the enemy”. Thus we joined the partisans.

Here a miracle happened, a Jewish partisan told me that in the village Plaskovitz he met two Jewish boys who escaped from the Kletsk ghetto and he brought them over to the partisans’ headquarters. Shaking, I drove there and found my two sons wearing rags. It was like a dream. When I returned with my sons to the camp I saw many Jews who reached the camp just now. Among them, from Kletsk were: Alter Meirovitz, Lea Fish (today in Israel), Beila Tzipin (in Canada) Motl Gelfand (in Israel) Yisuf Pshpiyorka (in Russia), Shlomo Shmukler (in America) Kil Leibe and others. We were around 300 Jews and together with 50 Christians we organized the famous partisan regiment named after Z’ukov. The regiment was divided into two squadrons. Our first project was to get foodstuff from the nearby neighborhood.

We entered an estate during the night, drove away the guard, harnessed two horses to carriages and loaded onto the carriages a pig, a lamb, milk, butter and a big pot.

The main and necessary project we had to carry out was to obtain ammunition. It was very complicated. We were, in the meantime, attacked by German army and Belarussian police and we had to withdraw to the area of Kapolia. We reorganized, and felt stronger but our situation as Jews with no ammunition became more and more difficult. Our commander had a dangerous idea. He initiated the organization of a group of Jews from Kletsk whose goal was to attack the barracks outside the city and loot ammunition from there. We set out for this mission with one rifle. On the way we bought a pistol for 2,000 rubles. The plan failed. In the headquarters they reached the conclusion that this was just a senseless adventure. A messenger was sent to find us and bring us back.

We finally got ammunition from another source and started revenge actions against our murderers and their aids.

Our first independent project was in the estate of Slovodka, near Kletsk, where the inhabitants corroborated with the Nazis. We attacked the estate, set fire to it and destroyed its inhabitants. We returned happy. The wish for revenge burned in our hearts and we wanted to show the executioners of Kletsk and their corroborators that we were still alive. We asked our commander to let us penetrate Kletsk at night. Our chief goal was to catch the famous rioter Sasha Sokhnovitz, a Belarussian who was very cruel to the Jews. Together with Yaakov Geler, Shmuel Shmukler, Alter Meirovitz, Motl Gelfan and the komissar we drove in sledges through the villages Svitz, Sagritz, and Pankratovitz and reached Tzafra Street. We left the horses with the sledges near a barn and walked in the dark. A Belarussian policeman saw us and ran away for life. We tried to catch him but he slipped away leaving his rifle behind. We approached the Sokhnovitz house, knocked on the door and called his name. However he also managed to escape. We heard shooting. We mounted our sledges in perfect order and hurried away. In Sokhlitz we loaded on the sledges foodstuff and returned to the camp. The commander praised us. Right, we were only partly successful. However the fact that we appeared in the shtetl caused the Nazis fear and panic and especially their collaborators.

The days passed until liberation with sabotage actions, attacks on convoys of German soldiers and Belarussian collaborators - policemen and citizens. We felt there was meaning to our life in the forests. We were proud to make our oppressors fear us, to revenge the death of our people and to contribute to the victory over the evil enemy.

On liberation day we came out of the forests and went back to Kletsk. We were confronted with the horror of its destruction. We reached the conclusion that anti-Semitism was too deeply rooted in the inhabitants’ souls. We had no future in this scene of mass murder. We made Aliya to the land of Israel.