Tarnopol 7 April 1943.
Before I leave this world, I want to leave behind a few lines to you, my loved ones. When this letter reaches you one day, I myself will no longer be there, nor will any of us. Our end is drawing near. One feels it, one knows it. Just like the innocent, defenceless Jews already executed, we are all condemned to death. In the very near future it will be our turn, as the small remainder left over from the mass murders. There is no way for us to escape this horrible, ghastly death.
At the very beginning (in June 1941) some 5000 men were killed, among them my husband. After six weeks, following a five-day search between the corpses, I found his body…
Since that day, life has ceased for me. Not even in my girlish dreams could I once have wished for a better and more faithful companion. I was only granted two years and two months of happiness. And now? Tired from so much searching among the bodies, one was ‘glad’ to have found his as well; are there words in which to express these torments?
Before I leave this world, I want to leave behind a few lines to you, my loved ones. When this letter reaches you one day, I myself will no longer be there, nor will any of us. Our end is drawing near. One feels it, one knows it. Just like the innocent, defenceless Jews already executed, we are all condemned to death. In the very near future it will be our turn, as the small remainder left over from the mass murders. There is no way for us to escape this horrible, ghastly death.
At the very beginning (in June 1941) some 5000 men were killed, among them my husband. After six weeks, following a five-day search between the corpses, I found his body…
Since that day, life has ceased for me. Not even in my girlish dreams could I once have wished for a better and more faithful companion. I was only granted two years and two months of happiness. And now? Tired from so much searching among the bodies, one was ‘glad’ to have found his as well; are there words in which to express these torments?
Tarnopol 26 April 1943.
I am still alive and I want to describe to you what happened from the 7th to this day. Now then, it is told that everyone’s turn comes up next. Galicia should be totally rid of Jews. After all, the ghetto is to be liquidated by the 1st of May. During the last days thousands have been shot. Meeting point was in our camp. Here the human victims are selected.
In Petrikow it looks like this: before the grave one is stripped naked, then forced to kneel down and wait for the shot. The victims stand in line and await their turn. Moreover, they have to sort the first, the executed, in their graves so that the space is used well and order prevails. The entire procedure does not take long. In half an hour the clothes of the executed return to the camp.
After the actions the Jewish council received a bill for 30,000 Zloty to pay for used bullets…
Why can we not cry, why can we not defend ourselves? How can one see so much innocent blood flow and say nothing, do nothing and await the same death oneself? We are compelled to go under so miserably, so pitilessly…
Do you think we want to end this way, die this way? No! No! Despite all these experiences. The urge for self-preservation has now often become greater, the will to live stronger, the closer death is. It is beyond comprehension.
I am still alive and I want to describe to you what happened from the 7th to this day. Now then, it is told that everyone’s turn comes up next. Galicia should be totally rid of Jews. After all, the ghetto is to be liquidated by the 1st of May. During the last days thousands have been shot. Meeting point was in our camp. Here the human victims are selected.
In Petrikow it looks like this: before the grave one is stripped naked, then forced to kneel down and wait for the shot. The victims stand in line and await their turn. Moreover, they have to sort the first, the executed, in their graves so that the space is used well and order prevails. The entire procedure does not take long. In half an hour the clothes of the executed return to the camp.
After the actions the Jewish council received a bill for 30,000 Zloty to pay for used bullets…
Why can we not cry, why can we not defend ourselves? How can one see so much innocent blood flow and say nothing, do nothing and await the same death oneself? We are compelled to go under so miserably, so pitilessly…
Do you think we want to end this way, die this way? No! No! Despite all these experiences. The urge for self-preservation has now often become greater, the will to live stronger, the closer death is. It is beyond comprehension.
“My dearest, Before I die, I am writing a few words, We are about to die, five thousand innocent people, They are cruelly shooting us, Kisses to you all, Mira…”
My dearest children, Jacob and Erna
Another terrible four weeks have passed. Today it is exactly six weeks since the gruesome events in our town Luck and the surroundings. Since then thousands of Jews who had escaped were caught and shot dead. As for me, my bitter fate has preserved me for the time being, so that I may still suffer some time longer. As a matter of fact, mother and David are the luckiest of our whole family, they have already gone through what they had to, and they surely did not suffer such terrible moral pain as I do, having remained alive . These forty- two days have been awful. Only those who live are scared of death; for the dead it is a salvation. Thus, my children, imaging such a picture: I am sitting in a thick forest and fate willed that it should be exactly the same forest in which mother was born. An old, gray-haired man squatting on the earth; one would think that I was about seventy; my body is torn and bitten, and I have no shirt on, since I had to throw it away. I did not understand [until now] what a terrible plague the lice were with
which Moses punished Pharaoh, as is written in the Pentateuch: "And the wise men could not stand before Pharaoh."* This means simply that the lice were eating them alive. Now I understand it, and it is an awful thing. How happy I would be if I could
take a basin of hot water, do some washing, and put on a clean shirt and underwear;and then, may death arrive.
That is that, my dear children. All is lost, but may I at least be the ransom for you, so that you, the survivors, the last spark left of our family, will not be extinguished.
I am now in my misfortune, my comrade in distress was caught by the murderers on the second day of Rosh Hashanah, in full daylight; he had not been cautious enough. They tortured and then shot him. They search for me, too, they even trod on me in the
stack of straw where I was hiding. Yet, for the time being, they have not succeeded. Since then I have been wandering alone at night from village to village, from tent to tent, from forest to forest. But the forest, unfortunately, has started balding, and I also am naked and barefoot, hungry and sleepy. I am walking like a sleepwalker without seeing my own shadow, I am wandering - where to, I myself do not know. Shall I succeed in staying alive? I am not at all sure. It is very improbable. One can still manage somehow, though.
Another terrible four weeks have passed. Today it is exactly six weeks since the gruesome events in our town Luck and the surroundings. Since then thousands of Jews who had escaped were caught and shot dead. As for me, my bitter fate has preserved me for the time being, so that I may still suffer some time longer. As a matter of fact, mother and David are the luckiest of our whole family, they have already gone through what they had to, and they surely did not suffer such terrible moral pain as I do, having remained alive . These forty- two days have been awful. Only those who live are scared of death; for the dead it is a salvation. Thus, my children, imaging such a picture: I am sitting in a thick forest and fate willed that it should be exactly the same forest in which mother was born. An old, gray-haired man squatting on the earth; one would think that I was about seventy; my body is torn and bitten, and I have no shirt on, since I had to throw it away. I did not understand [until now] what a terrible plague the lice were with
which Moses punished Pharaoh, as is written in the Pentateuch: "And the wise men could not stand before Pharaoh."* This means simply that the lice were eating them alive. Now I understand it, and it is an awful thing. How happy I would be if I could
take a basin of hot water, do some washing, and put on a clean shirt and underwear;and then, may death arrive.
That is that, my dear children. All is lost, but may I at least be the ransom for you, so that you, the survivors, the last spark left of our family, will not be extinguished.
I am now in my misfortune, my comrade in distress was caught by the murderers on the second day of Rosh Hashanah, in full daylight; he had not been cautious enough. They tortured and then shot him. They search for me, too, they even trod on me in the
stack of straw where I was hiding. Yet, for the time being, they have not succeeded. Since then I have been wandering alone at night from village to village, from tent to tent, from forest to forest. But the forest, unfortunately, has started balding, and I also am naked and barefoot, hungry and sleepy. I am walking like a sleepwalker without seeing my own shadow, I am wandering - where to, I myself do not know. Shall I succeed in staying alive? I am not at all sure. It is very improbable. One can still manage somehow, though.
Letter from Marie Ijzerman, 13 March 1943:
My beloved child: I am forced to write you a few words before I leave you, hopefully not forever. But, it so seems, there is little hope that I will ever see you again. My dearest Andy, I must bid you farewell now, when you are only nine months and three weeks old. God knows what a terrible price this is for us, but it is better this way than to take you with us to the unknown. I hope that you will grow into a brave young man and that you will love the people raising you as if they were your parents. And now, my dearest child, only God knows if we are doing the right thing or not. I always wanted you to be with me, but the situation is that it would be too dangerous for you, and I don’t want you to fall into the hands of our executioners. And now, my child, I must bid you farewell. A thousand kisses from your mother and father. May God bless you, amen.
Marie Ijzerman Trompetter
My beloved child: I am forced to write you a few words before I leave you, hopefully not forever. But, it so seems, there is little hope that I will ever see you again. My dearest Andy, I must bid you farewell now, when you are only nine months and three weeks old. God knows what a terrible price this is for us, but it is better this way than to take you with us to the unknown. I hope that you will grow into a brave young man and that you will love the people raising you as if they were your parents. And now, my dearest child, only God knows if we are doing the right thing or not. I always wanted you to be with me, but the situation is that it would be too dangerous for you, and I don’t want you to fall into the hands of our executioners. And now, my child, I must bid you farewell. A thousand kisses from your mother and father. May God bless you, amen.
Marie Ijzerman Trompetter