Chapter 7

I had been stationed at my lookout on the balcony on April 19^th when at about five in the morning a loud number was heard. Suddenly I saw that cars had come through the ghetto gate and had stopped as they reached the square – about 200 meters from me. Soldiers then dispersed from them as I saw through my high powered binoculars. They were followed by soldiers bearing machine guns, and motorcyclists arrived as well. Soon, the Jewish Police had entered and lined up on both sides of the streets.

As all this occurred I was reporting to a fighter lying down not far from me, who, in turn, passed word to the command room and Anielcwicz. Later the Jewish Police began to move near our building. I had been told not to commence fighting until the Germans had followed. When they did, I and all the other Jews in similar positions threw grenades down into the streets below, starting a chain reaction of terrific explosions which shook the building. Above this tumult of explosions and firing I could hear the sputter of the German machine guns operated by one of our men. He must’ve obtained it in January. The Germans were now having a taste of their own medicine.

I remained on the balcony and continued to hurl explosive ‘bottles’ for about half an hour, onto those whom I had lusted to kill for so long. Then the Germans retreated. We were told not to move, which was a wise decision because not long after, two vicious looking tanks replaced the exposed Germans from before. In thirty seconds they had been ignited by our man-made fire. Once again, the Germans, who had not been burned alive, fled.

An eerie silence followed. Smoke filled the morning sky as the smell of putrefying bodies filled the air. A great change had overcome me as if the realization of what I was doing suddenly struck me. I had become a murderer. I began to panic. "I have to get out..I can’t take this anymore..they’re going to kill us all!" I no longer had the will to fight. Bodies, bodies, everywhere dead putrefying bodies. My mind was a flood of moving pictures. My father, my mother, my brother, Marcus…bloody screams everywhere, calling out to me. I was suffering from confusion and I had had enough. Like a mad man I erupted, "No…." and began to run down the building into the street where the bloody and mutilated burnt bodies of the dead Germans came into my sight. I began to cry, shouting out at the same time. Behind me someone asked me what I was doing. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. All I knew was that four years of suffering had taken its toll.

I ran until I reached the corner. I turned and fled to my empty bunker and collapsed on the ground with my desperate cried for freedom. I cried myself to sleep not caring whether I would wake up again or not.