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Sala Garncarz
Diary begun October 28, 1940, the day of deportation, through
November 8, 1940, in Polish, Sosnowitz, Poland
NYPL, Dorot Jewish Division, Sala Garncarz Kischner Collection
Monday, October 28, 1940
From the time of departure from Sosnowitz
At 7:00 o’clock AM, we all arrived at Skladowa Street.
After our names were checked, we went to the railroad station
where we waited until 11:00 AM. Dear beloved girls!
How can I describe this waiting period? Was I dreaming? Yes,
I had been dreaming, since 5:00 o’clock in the morning
until we arrived at the designated location. At 6:00 o’clock,
it was Sala [Rabinowicz] who first arrived, my sweet friend.
By 7:00 o’clock, I had you all with me: all my dear
ones: Sala [Rabinowicz], Gucia, Bela, Chancia, and Hela.
My dearests! If you could have looked deep in my heart, you would
have seen how desperate I was; still I tried to keep a smile on
my face as best I could, though my eyes were filled with tears.
One must go on bravely and courageously, even if the heart is
breaking.
I said goodbye to my beloved old father. Dear father, will you
miss your Sala very much? Me, the intolerable girl? My father
cried … yes, he did cry when we were saying goodbye. Onward.
Accompanied by all my sweet girlfriends, we started out. Where
to? Why? Only the future will tell….
Mother dearest, I have not mentioned you until now. I was not
looking at you, though I was consumed by you. You were pleading
with me, you were begging me, almost yelling at me—yet,
I want to do what I want to do. Now it’s so hard to say
goodbye; what can I say to you, what to wish you?
I said nothing. I did not wish you anything, did not ask you
for anything. Still, I could not stop looking at you Mother, because
I felt something inside of me tearing, hurting. One more kiss,
one more hug, and my mother does not want to let go of me. Let
it end already, it is torture. Then I say goodbye to my sisters.
I step into the line-up, and looking around me, I see Sala and
Gucia, my faithful friends, standing at a distance since they
are not allowed to be near. Except for my mother and sisters,
here everybody and everything are strangers to me.
With whom are you leaving me, and to whom are you sending me?
Dear girls!!! I am accustomed to you more than to my sisters,
and now I have to leave you and must go into the unknown world.
Will I ever see all of you again? Sala, does it seem possible
that I will not be in your house tomorrow to play cards with [your
little sister] Frymka? And [your brother], can you believe that
he won’t see me again tomorrow? I wonder if he will remember
me, or talk about me. But what right do I have to demand it?
We are starting to move. Goodbye, everybody; remember me, only
please do not pity me, because nobody forced me to do this. I
got what I wanted. God help me!!! …
I am together now with Miss Ala. There are about 14 women, and
we shall try to enable our brothers to live in a way where they
will not feel the change that has taken place in their lives.
Tuesday, October 29, 1940
I woke up early as I slept very little. I look around; so it
seems I spent one night in my “new home.” I am shivering
from cold and my head feels terribly heavy. One by one, the girls
look around, taking their time to get up. Get up! Lots of work
is waiting for us. A stove is being set up; [one of the girls]
makes the stovetop very hot, and now my soul is uplifted. Somehow,
things will turn out all right.
Miss Ala also cheers us up, she is such a terrific and courageous
girl. Even though she came from a wealthy home, she is able to
adjust to present circumstances without fighting them; what’s
more, she is able to give us hope. Our dinner consisted of barley
soup, which was less than tasty. Well, that too shall pass. In
the evening, we were assigned bunks. Wonderful. There is a lower
level and an upper level. I can imagine how it will feel to sleep
on the upper level. Miss Ala and I reserved one such accommodation.
We will be sharing the bunk with one other girl who is very lively,
and like all girls, she likes to flirt. In addition, there are
four other girls in the room.
Tonight, I slept with Miss Ala; what a delight. I love her.
This afternoon, as they were giving out food coupons in our
room, an old Jew came by feeling weak and hungry. He warmed
himself by the stove. We felt pity for him and asked him
where he is from; he poured his bitter heart out telling
us about himself. He is from Sosnowitz, has a wife and children,
and all of them are in our community. He was supposed to
be allowed to stay home … but one person insisted that
he must go. So even here an act of maliciousness was carried
out—against whom? Against an old, sick Jew. Oh, be
cursed, you who did it, and the others who are like you.
After that, we cried for half an hour, Ala hugging me, about
him and our own fate. We have to get hold of ourselves.
At the table, I spoke a bit with our young German office clerk,
who seems pleasant. I found out from him that he knows my brother
[Moshe David]. I like to hear him talk, because I like the German
language a lot, and besides, he is a pleasant fellow. After we
straightened up the beds, we cleaned up, and I helped to wash
the dishes. I peeled potatoes. One more thing—I mended gloves
for a soldier, for which I had to accept [a small payment], even
though I objected....
Wednesday, October 30, 1940
We slept quite well last night. After a bit of cleaning and shaking
the blankets, we ate breakfast. One of the girls had brought with
her some Lithuanian cheese, which she shared with us. We also
had bread and butter—an excellent breakfast. For dinner,
we had cabbage soup, quite tasty too. I found out quite by chance
that Leo, the boyfriend of my cousin Roza from Olkusch, is here,
among the men.
I looked for him and found him. When I spoke to him in the evening,
he told me sadly that he is imagining Roza to be crying now. He
is such a sweet man, strongly built, but his face betrays his
young age. He really does love my cousin. Yes, Roza, you can be
proud of him. Everybody likes him; I shall try as hard as I can
to help him since he is my future cousin….
Also this evening, Ala and I gave him a postcard to send home,
which we hope will get there. You must understand that we are
not allowed to let anybody hear from us, while everyone at home
is going crazy with worry, thinking that we have disappeared.
I washed his socks and I dried his shoes; the poor fellow has
a cold, still he went to work. He was told that he might be excused
tomorrow and I would be glad if he is excused.
[Thursday, October 31, 1940]
I have much to worry about today. Leo was let go by our boss
on Thursday, but it now appears that it’s a bad situation.
The authorities came to check on the workers, and discovered that
nine of them stayed home. It was a scandal, and all of them were
put in a separate room and then they were sent to work.
And so, before bedtime, the entire camp was ordered to assemble.
[The leader] requested, in a hoarse voice, that we do not make
it more difficult for him to carry on his already difficult duties.
Men are absolutely forbidden to be in the women’s section
of the camp. There will be punishment for not obeying orders.
Also we are forbidden to contact them. For us, it’s not
too bad, but for the men, that is difficult. Well, maybe it’s
better this way.
Friday, November 1, 1940
The day was uneventful except that we were assigned to another
room, an unpleasant change for me, since the four of us were hoping
to stay together in our little room. Well, after all, this is
not for us to decide. We will have to get used to the faces of
still more new strangers. I also worry about where I will sleep
since, while I was away dressing, bunks were set up and no space
was left for me to be with my beloved Ala. I had to agree to take
the bunk under Ala, but so far, I have not slept in it, because
Ala always finds a spot for poor me next to her. She always takes
me in.
Now the traditional Friday evening approaches, time for the family
to be together, and for closeness to uplift the soul. That day
finds me now far away from home. I suddenly realize where I am,
and I know that whether this is Friday or not, I will not eat
with all of you at the same table, and I will not hear my beloved
father say “Kiddush.” No, I cannot be with you because
I am in a barracks in a camp!
Something moves me, but there is nobody here who is close to
me. I have to hope that Ala will be back from the office soon.
Yet my thoughts are with you; could you feel my nearness to you?
And so I walked around like a lunatic for I had nobody to share
my sorrow, nobody to console me as I cried my eyes out, finding
it hard to breathe; it was stifling. Never before did I miss you
so much, beloved parents, and my dear girlfriends! Today I was
not with you when prayers were said. I did not hear [your brothers]
say the prayers. Oh, my dearest ones! Did you remember me just
then? I will find out when we are together again.
Ala just arrived; I feel relieved. Would you believe that I could
not tell her all that I was feeling? I prefer to write things
down, since I don’t know how to talk about such matters.
Still, her presence is good for me for it helped me to fall asleep
here in Geppersdorf, while my thoughts were with you.
Saturday [November 2, 1940]
I woke up thinking that I was drunk. Do you know why? Because
just a week ago today, I was actually drunk after drinking beer
on Friday. You drank to my health and a wish for me to remain
home, but I am one stubborn girl, am I not? I have to admit that
I was a bit tipsy, but it won’t happen again. Today we work
only until 12 o’clock.
Something new happened. As I was sitting on my bed writing, the
SA [Sturmabteilung, or Storm Trooper] man came in. He said, “Get
your coat, we are going to the movies.” I was amazed and
I took it for a joke. But an order is an order, so I put on my
coat and beret and together with [two others], we all went out.
He took us to [the office] and we helped him to do some dusting.
They were very nice to us there, and they gave us some beer. It
warmed us since it’s quite cold. Then we went back to our
place and brought back cigarettes for our boys.
Sunday [November 3, 1940]
Today is our holiday. From early morning, there is much activity,
and no wonder. One wants to outdo the other. I personally do not
feel joyful, even though this is supposed to be our holiday. [Another
girl] and I started cleaning: we made all beds, washed the floor.
Unfortunately, even today Ala has no free time because there is
work to be done in the office.
In the afternoon: my conscience bothers me because while Ala
was working in the office I did something foolish. Music was playing,
so I danced with [one of the girls]. When she invited [a boy],
I quickly stopped, and soon everybody gathered near my door. Suddenly,
Ala appeared, entering the room in her steady, manly way, and
everybody moved over. I am so proud that everyone respects her
and pays attention to her but now I feel guilty because I hurt
her. Might I lose her because of it? It would be a terrible blow
to me. We go to sleep and when I am near her, I feel good again
and blissful. Our conversation resumed on the same subject we
so often talk about. I told her about my doubts, my desire to
see and experience everything, and I related a lot about myself
so that she could understand and forgive my behavior today, which
was caused by my youth and inexperience. I think she understood
and she forgave me. She is so sweet, and so strong…. It
is so wonderful to be with my Aluchna, so wonderful.
Monday [November 4, 1940]
The SA man came in the evening and seeing a German-Polish grammar
book on the table started reading the Polish part. It made me
laugh. Later that evening, I went for a walk with Leo, and he
told me more about himself and Roza. We shook hands to seal our
friendship. This boy suffered so much because he had to fight
with his parents about Roza, and just as they were ready to give
him permission to marry, this new misfortune struck all of us.
Oh, what wonderful dreams he has for the future! Roza, Roza, you
should know that even at night, he keeps repeating your name;
he has no better subject for conversation than you. You, Roza,
should be so happy.
At night in the bunk, Ala read to me the letter she wrote home,
in which she mentioned me. That made me very glad.
The world is moaning, life is terrible, and there is much to
lament. Is it any surprise that I am seeing people’s misfortune,
their sufferings and the injustices done to them? The world is
complaining, and there is a void around us. Now the winds are
blowing hard; what are you bringing us—your madman? Will
it be fair weather or foul weather? Will there be quiet or turmoil?
Time to start working. Ala left for the office, while the wind
picked up speed and became more mournful. A hubbub arose as everyone
started running toward the square and onto the roofs to tie things
down. Panic broke out and everybody got scared, some girls started
crying. We have some sick ones who need to be consoled.
Six more women are to leave. Will I be among them? Ala comes
running to me. “Listen, one of the office girls will have
to leave as well, so if it’s me, you will come with me.” The
truth is that I agreed without even giving it a thought. Well,
it became apparent that they have no intention of sending Ala
away, and Kronenberg [the Jewish leader, or Judenalteste, at Geppersdorf]
did not want to put me on the list.
Little Keiti, the poor girl, cried and did not want to leave;
still, in the end, she had to. I felt sorry for her, the poor
child. But that was not the end of this matter. Next day, 60 more
men had to leave, among them Leo. I felt very sad. He will probably
have no one to talk to about Roza. At the last moment, he was
designated a “group officer” and he departed. The
following days were very unpleasant, still, they were sweetened
by the fact that I remained with Ala.
Friday [November 8, 1940]
Oh, it’s Friday again. What a horrible day for me here.
Again, my thoughts turn to home, and again, I am overwhelmed by
despair. Dear God, will Fridays always worry me so much when I
am away from home?
It’s quiet now. All the girls are in bed….
The SA man pointed to me and said, this girl is clean, and he
seemed to be almost glad about that. Fani Czarna looked at me
and asked for my home address, so I asked her to tell them the
best news about me. When she said goodbye, she shook my hand.
They left.
In the afternoon, a small blow: 120 workers are being sent out.
Everyone is fearful that someone among relatives or friends will
be sent away.
Just look at us, tired and exhausted,
And how our hearts are bleeding.
Where are our aged parents,
Whose life is being poisoned?
So let it all be enough
For You to take off our burden,
Let us hope and be certain
That soon our parents and family will be one with us
That is the essence of our hope.
