Enschede,
Holland
1 April 1943
Beloved, precious children,
In these final moments, before I join your dearest father, and will, like him,
lose my freedom, there is an urgent compulsion within me to tell you the
following.
You are in our thoughts by day and night; our love for you makes our life even
under these present difficult circumstances worth living; we long for the
moment when we shall once more be able to embrace you with outstretched
arms – you, our most precious possessions – and we have faith in the future,
that this supreme joy will be granted us.
‘Beloved Sparrows’ – I must call you this once more, as I used to do when you
were still very young – should circumstances alter course for us and we,
according to the will of the Almighty, not meet again, I beg each one of you
with all my heart to lead honest and straightforward lives always, and to
support one another whenever necessary. Your young and only sister will
receive your utmost thoughtfulness and love. And Hy, your eldest brother,
who has missed you no less than ourselves all these years and who has
suffered greatly through agony and fear, must also be close to your hearts.
Unfortunately, uprooted as we have been here in Holland, we were never able
to give him the secure parental home atmosphere for which he longed so
much. Many times the longing for you and the desire to be reunited with you
were so overpowering and strong in us, as well as in him that we feared we
could bear it no longer.
I know what a treasure we have in you, my beloved ones, and that you are
committed and firm and of strong character, that – Baruch Hashem – you are
all blessed with that essence of personality which makes you liked by your
fellow men and will surely find favour in the eyes of the Creator. This
knowledge brings me consolation. Never deviate from the path of God-fearing
behavior and always be guided by the example of your beloved father. Our
constant thoughts of you have accompanied you so far on your road through
life, and our blessings will never leave you!
This letter will reach you through the efforts of a fine Dutch lady who was
always wonderful to us and constantly gave us courage for the future, which
we accepted gratefully.
My Precious Children – I bless each of you from a distance with the traditional
blessing, also in Daddy’s name: ‘May you be happy and successful in life;
cling one to the other; and never stray even one step from the path, from the
precepts of our Torah.’
I embrace and kiss you and now feel truly united with you,
Always yours,
Mummy
Below are two letters by Chaim Prinzental of Luck, Poland written in 1942 to his two
children living in Palestine, in Kibbutz Ma'ale Hahamisha.
Today, October 3 [should read September] 1942, it is exactly two weeks since the
horrible slaughter in Luck and its surroundings. For two gruesome weeks we - a few
Jews who had succeeded in escaping from Luck at the very last moment - have been
roaming about without sleeping at night, since death threatens us every moment. Out
of the forest and back into the forest. We have become forest men. It happens that for
two or even three days we are without a piece of bread, a drop of water. Our eyes are
no longer able to shed tears. The heart burns with pain, there is a pressure so strong as
to break it, and there is no help. We are all condemned to death.
My dear son David - God knows if he is still alive - your mother was like a dove when
they led her to the slaughter. I did not witness this with my own eyes; to my great pain
and despair fate willed that I should abandon my dear wife and son and escape alone
like a coward. However they are in a better position now than I am, they have already
gone through what they had to, and every moment I expect to be caught. I am sitting
in a dug-out in the forest where your grandfather used to live and I am writing both of
you a farewell letter. Maybe fate will not be so cruel after all and, when the war is
over, you will receive it by mail with the help of a goodhearted Gentile. Thus, I
embrace both of you - you and your wife - and I send you my fatherly blessing before
my death.
Your unfortunate father H.P
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 .
Goodbye .
Your unfortunate father, Chaim Erratic
Dearest Mother,
How are you? It feels like forever since I have seen you. I hope to see you again, and so does Miriam. I know that it is wishful to think you are still alive, but I can still believe it.
As you can see, the Russians made it to Auschwitz. You should have seen the Nazis before they arrived; it was as if they were chickens without heads! They weren’t paying attention to us for the most part; it allowed me to escape for a few moments. I returned because I couldn’t leave Miriam alone, but what I saw outside shocked me. I went all the way to where there was a river, and on the other side there was a girl. I was so jealous of that girl, with her hair and her nice dresses. She was cleaner than I could remember being for years. She didn’t know how lucky she was.
Miriam and I were left behind from the march. It was good that we hid, because they were probably going to another camp; the officers saving themselves. I wonder if the Russians found them too.
When they came, we were all so excited. Miriam and I ran over to them, half in disbelief. They gave us food, chocolates even! When was the last time you can remember eating chocolate? It was like heaven.
The best part, though, was not when the Russians actually got to the camp, but it was when somebody came running in to our barrack, shouting that we were free. And now Mama, we are free. Your daughters are free.
Love,
Eva
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?
Holland
1 April 1943
Beloved, precious children,
In these final moments, before I join your dearest father, and will, like him,
lose my freedom, there is an urgent compulsion within me to tell you the
following.
You are in our thoughts by day and night; our love for you makes our life even
under these present difficult circumstances worth living; we long for the
moment when we shall once more be able to embrace you with outstretched
arms – you, our most precious possessions – and we have faith in the future,
that this supreme joy will be granted us.
‘Beloved Sparrows’ – I must call you this once more, as I used to do when you
were still very young – should circumstances alter course for us and we,
according to the will of the Almighty, not meet again, I beg each one of you
with all my heart to lead honest and straightforward lives always, and to
support one another whenever necessary. Your young and only sister will
receive your utmost thoughtfulness and love. And Hy, your eldest brother,
who has missed you no less than ourselves all these years and who has
suffered greatly through agony and fear, must also be close to your hearts.
Unfortunately, uprooted as we have been here in Holland, we were never able
to give him the secure parental home atmosphere for which he longed so
much. Many times the longing for you and the desire to be reunited with you
were so overpowering and strong in us, as well as in him that we feared we
could bear it no longer.
I know what a treasure we have in you, my beloved ones, and that you are
committed and firm and of strong character, that – Baruch Hashem – you are
all blessed with that essence of personality which makes you liked by your
fellow men and will surely find favour in the eyes of the Creator. This
knowledge brings me consolation. Never deviate from the path of God-fearing
behavior and always be guided by the example of your beloved father. Our
constant thoughts of you have accompanied you so far on your road through
life, and our blessings will never leave you!
This letter will reach you through the efforts of a fine Dutch lady who was
always wonderful to us and constantly gave us courage for the future, which
we accepted gratefully.
My Precious Children – I bless each of you from a distance with the traditional
blessing, also in Daddy’s name: ‘May you be happy and successful in life;
cling one to the other; and never stray even one step from the path, from the
precepts of our Torah.’
I embrace and kiss you and now feel truly united with you,
Always yours,
Mummy
Below are two letters by Chaim Prinzental of Luck, Poland written in 1942 to his two
children living in Palestine, in Kibbutz Ma'ale Hahamisha.
Today, October 3 [should read September] 1942, it is exactly two weeks since the
horrible slaughter in Luck and its surroundings. For two gruesome weeks we - a few
Jews who had succeeded in escaping from Luck at the very last moment - have been
roaming about without sleeping at night, since death threatens us every moment. Out
of the forest and back into the forest. We have become forest men. It happens that for
two or even three days we are without a piece of bread, a drop of water. Our eyes are
no longer able to shed tears. The heart burns with pain, there is a pressure so strong as
to break it, and there is no help. We are all condemned to death.
My dear son David - God knows if he is still alive - your mother was like a dove when
they led her to the slaughter. I did not witness this with my own eyes; to my great pain
and despair fate willed that I should abandon my dear wife and son and escape alone
like a coward. However they are in a better position now than I am, they have already
gone through what they had to, and every moment I expect to be caught. I am sitting
in a dug-out in the forest where your grandfather used to live and I am writing both of
you a farewell letter. Maybe fate will not be so cruel after all and, when the war is
over, you will receive it by mail with the help of a goodhearted Gentile. Thus, I
embrace both of you - you and your wife - and I send you my fatherly blessing before
my death.
Your unfortunate father H.P
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 .
Goodbye .
Your unfortunate father, Chaim Erratic
Dearest Mother,
How are you? It feels like forever since I have seen you. I hope to see you again, and so does Miriam. I know that it is wishful to think you are still alive, but I can still believe it.
As you can see, the Russians made it to Auschwitz. You should have seen the Nazis before they arrived; it was as if they were chickens without heads! They weren’t paying attention to us for the most part; it allowed me to escape for a few moments. I returned because I couldn’t leave Miriam alone, but what I saw outside shocked me. I went all the way to where there was a river, and on the other side there was a girl. I was so jealous of that girl, with her hair and her nice dresses. She was cleaner than I could remember being for years. She didn’t know how lucky she was.
Miriam and I were left behind from the march. It was good that we hid, because they were probably going to another camp; the officers saving themselves. I wonder if the Russians found them too.
When they came, we were all so excited. Miriam and I ran over to them, half in disbelief. They gave us food, chocolates even! When was the last time you can remember eating chocolate? It was like heaven.
The best part, though, was not when the Russians actually got to the camp, but it was when somebody came running in to our barrack, shouting that we were free. And now Mama, we are free. Your daughters are free.
Love,
Eva
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?