In 1935, Polish Jews living in Germany were chased out of Germany and were made to return to Poland. I met people who lived on my street who returned who told me about the atrocities about what Hitler was doing to the Jews in Germany. They were beating Jews up, not letting us work, chasing us out of our homes. I made up my mind that if the Germans came to Poland that I would run away.
The Germans invaded Poland, on November 8, 1939. I was almost 17 years old, I left my home with two friends, Nachman Kaplan and David Kweller. I talked to my family that I planned to run away to Russia. My mother said she could not leave because she didn’t want to leave behind her furniture. My father agreed with me and put his hand on my head and gave me a blessing. He told me, “Till now you had to listen to me, from now on you are on your own but go straight in your life, not to cheat, not to steal, and be an honest person. Be friendly, help people.” He did not go because he did not want to leave his wife, my mother. My younger siblings were much younger than I.
I walked three days to the Russian border and was shot at by German soldiers, three times. Luckily I was not hit when they chased me running away from them. In the process I was separated from my friends. I met up with other Jews trying to go to Russia and crossed into Russia with them. I boarded a train to Bialystock, Poland in the Russian zone. I was homeless. I traveled by cattle train with hundreds of other Jewish refugees to Magnitogorsk, Russia, a journey of about 2000 miles, and it took fourteen days. We suffered from cold and hunger.
I worked at hard labor, digging ditches, paving roads, was underfed, overworked, and underpaid. My worst sickness was my homesickness for my family left behind in Warsaw. None of them survived from the Warsaw Ghetto. After my contract in Magnitogorsk expired in 1945, I was “free.” I moved to the former Polish city in 1947 in Lvov, as I had no where to go. There I met my wife.