The Horse Adjutant the end of the tracks. When he got out of the car, there was nothing, no train station, no buildings, nothing. The prisoners were formed into a line and they started to walk, and walk. Days later they reached their destination. It was an area marked with red flags around a field, no barracks, no tents, nothing, just a field. Once they arrived, they were assembled and told to dig a hole. This cave became home for all the men. In the morning they began to build a road with nothing but hand tools. This is what they did every day, the same thing over and over. It would be five long years of backbreaking work. By the time his sentence was over, the war would also be over, and as unbelievable as it might sound, prison may have saved his life. As soon as Max returned to Lwów, he joined the Russian Army. Being a soldier would provide him with a weapon and safe passage back to pick up the pieces in Gry- bow. He went home.
The Long Journey Begins
While Max was selling flint in Lwow, back in Grybow, I was preparing to leave home with my parents’ blessing. Other kids were doing the same, but I was one of the first. I said goodbye and started to walk with all my belongings. It wasn’t much, a small rucksack. I wasn’t sure where to go. Without too much deliberation I choose north and about 25 miles away I found what I was looking for, a series of work camps. There were hundreds of people in different work camps. They were all building a road. It looked
like hard labor, but there was also some heavy equipment. I approached a foreman and said only, “I want to work.” Without questioning me, he said, “Grab a shovel.”
He didn’t ask if I was Jewish, and I did not volunteer this information. Soon, others would follow. Many people from Grybow ended up working there, three in my camp that I knew well were the Lipczer kids, Usher, Joshua, and a third I can’t remember. Since our camp was open people could easily come and go. But the Lipzcers and many others wore the telltale armbands, making them easy targets for abuse, while I still did not wear one. As expected, the work was backbreaking, but I was paid every two weeks, and they fed me. This was as comfortable as I could be. One small comfort was that I knew many of the other young men who were working with me. I found myself living in an open work camp for Poles. Anyone of my mates could have turned me in, but they didn’t bother, nor was I harassed by them in any way. On the contrary, we all needed each other and felt more trust among ourselves than with the occupying force. This did
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