Tel Aviv, 29 December 1945 Much beloved Cousin Shloymele, I thank you very much for your letter to me. Thank G-d, we are all well, and we will be able to continue to withstand everything that is imposed on us by the New Order after the war that ended so sadly for us Jews in general and for our family in particular. I believe that I am now in a position to summarize the result of the war. I will begin in chronological order. On October 28, I unexpectedly received a letter that a brother of mine had arrived in Haifa. I immediately went to Haifa and met the only brother, and the only member of the whole family, who survived. He has come to me with a young woman, better said, a wife. He is now 22 years old, and his wife is 20. They are staying with me because, presently, it is difficult to secure an apartment for them. However, I believe that this will also fall into place. (Now, I will write of) how he came to be here and what he has told us. At the very beginning of the war, Uncle Wolf Lewkowicz, and later Regina and Yosef, came to Opoczno. I can't recount in writing what all of them endured during three years in the Opoczno Ghetto, of every minute that was lived through with fear and dread of the sadistic designs of the German Nazis. They lived under these conditions until December 7, 1942. On that day, they sent the Jews of Opoczno to Treblinka; this was one of the death camps in which Hitler liquidated millions of people, or better said, millions of Jews, because no one else suffered through as much as the Jews suffered through during the war, taking into account that we are continuing to suffer after the war. For us, the war is at its start; for others, it is over. In any event, on that day, the Nazi commander decided on death for all Opoczno Jews, women and children. 183 Jews received cards indicating that they were required to remain in the town, and the rest had to leave the town. Of our family, only my father was permitted to remain. Nevertheless, the whole family hid in a cellar underground and they laid there for eight days until the 183 Jews prevailed upon the commander to also issue numbers to those who were hidden so that they could continue to live there. Then they left the cellar and were together again. However, this did not last very long, and one month later, that is on January 5, 1943, the date that I should perhaps use as the anniversary of the death of the whole family, on that day they loaded the remaining 503 Jews (onto railroad cars), and they sent them away to the same place. What took place on the train is difficult to describe...how mothers laid down the dead bodies of their children in order to stand on them so that they could snatch a breath of air. Our whole family was together in the railroad car: father, mother, two brothers, three sisters, the husband of one sister, Uncle Wolf, Yosek and Regina, and all of father's sisters and their families. Then my younger brother, Moshe, took aside my other brother, Aaron [the one who came here], and instructed him how to jump off the train. It is quite impossible to relate what he tells of all these things, how mother cried and held him by the hand in order not to let him leave. On the other side, father was shouting that he was young and should try to save himself so that at least one spark of the family would be left to tell what happened and to take revenge...(and) that's the way it remained. Moshe was the first off the train and then Aaron, but they immediately lost touch with each other, and never found each other. Aaron then traveled to Warsaw and secured an aryan passport. He had no work and began to run short of money. Then he put his life at risk once again and returned to Opoczno at night because, before leaving, father had gathered the children together and had shown them where he was hiding money so that, in case someone was saved, he would be able to use the money. So, he went to Opoczno at night, took the money at a time when not a single Jew remained, and returned to Warsaw. Then, with luck, he was able to gain entry into the Warsaw Ghetto and, there, under a pseudonym, Kutsik, he joined the Jewish Fighters' Organization and was there until the end of the Ghetto Uprising. Eighty people got out of the Ghetto. He roamed the forests for a year and a half under difficult conditions. He was once wounded in the hand, but he held out until the Russians freed Poland. He then returned to Opoczno and learned that his brother who had been hurt when he had jumped from the train had been shot there; he (Moshe) had returned to Opoczno where a couple of Gentiles had reported him to the Nazi police, and they had shot him. Endangered on all sides, the sole survivor of such a family that conducted its life so honorably for so many generations, he decided to come to his brother in the Land of Israel, and this is not so simple to do. However, after a lengthy walk of hundreds of kilometers, he was successful in entering Romania where he secured a certificate for himself and his wife. Shloymele, believe me, if I were to sit all day long and write, I would not be able to relate one per cent of what he tells and of what he has not yet told me. Well, that's the summary of what happened to our family. This is, unfortunately, the sad, but accurate, information that I received about home. However, we have to accept our fate with tight lips and clenched fists and hold back the tears in our eyes because this is our final weapon. I close. You will forgive me for burdening you with reading such a long letter, but I could not write what I have set forth here in a shorter fashion. Perhaps I will enclose a picture of our whole family that is left. In the picture, are I, my wife, Helah; our daughter, Ruth, who is 27 months old; my brother, Aaron, and his wife, Miriam. As of now, they are not settled, but I hope that everything will be resolved. I send regards to you, your wife and your son; he must be a big boy by now. Send us a picture of the family, including your sisters and their families. Be well. Always, your cousin who would like to hear good news from you, Zeev (Wowche) Tel Aviv, 29 December 1945 Dear Cousin Shloymele, (A cousin of yours of whom you may know very little is writing to you. However, I have heard a lot about you. I am Aaron Chmielnicki, a brother of Zeev.) Dear Shloymele, In a brief format, Zeev has already related to you the tragic information that concerns all of us about our family in Poland. I would be able to write a great deal more, but I promise you that I will write a few letters to you separately in which I will include all the details that are of interest to you concerning the catastrophe that befell our family and all the Jews of Poland. I want to add that Uncle Wolf Lewkowicz, together with his children, Regina and Yosek, were with us in Opoczno for three years of the war and, during the whole time, never ceased to tell (us) about you and constantly regretted that Yosek did not leave for America. It's very difficult for me to write this, but even when they were taking us to Treblinka to be burned, Uncle Wolf screamed that he was responsible for the death of his children because, if he had wanted, they would already have been in America. However, now it is not significant whether he wanted it or not. Unfortunately, this is the bitter message. Of our family, I am the only one remaining. I am, at least, able to console myself with the fact that I took revenge on our Nazi murderers. I was a partisan for a year and a half. However, no matter how many of the bandits I killed, nothing can bring back my dear parents, brothers, sisters, uncles and family. They were victims. Just imagine. I don't know when they were burned and where their ashes are buried. Our dear, honorable family. Did they really deserve not to have a grave and for no one to know when to recite Kaddish for them...? Nevertheless, this is the accurate, tragic extent of the catastrophe. Be well. Your cousin, who wants to hear of no more evil. Aaron Chmielnicki All material Copyright 1995 by Marshall L. Zissman and Sol J. Zissman.