Stephen Shooster think about their reasons for doing anything. What I could do instead was escape and join the underground. It was risky to talk about it, but I was desperate. So, I took a chance and asked my friend, Tony Anthony, if the underground would accept me. A few days later I got my answer, ‘No Jews.’ Resigned to my fate I realized even if I could escape I would have no place to go. About 8 weeks after my arrival at Szebnie, at the end of October, around the day of my birthday, Sergeant Strybuc announced he was taking us to the camp across the street for a special roll call. This was exactly the kind of action I feared most. After the roll call, my friends and I tried to go back to the stables, but we were not allowed to leave. We were trapped. There was a lot of confusion. We could not understand what was happening, but we knew something was going on. Anxiously, we tried again to go back across the street, but the guard refused saying, “Nobody can leave the camp.” We were in deep trouble. We had no choice but to stay and no assigned place. I saw pris- oners and the Jewish Police running around. We stayed away from them. Worriedly, we began to see SS guards in full battle gear with trucks and motorcycles surrounding our camp. They remained at a distance of about 1 km. Around 10 PM the darkness was assaulted with floodlights as assembly sirens wailed. Once assembled, Commander Grzimek spoke, “You are going to be transported to another camp. You do not need to bring anything because you will be going to a very hot place. Anything you have in your pockets or any belongings, leave them in the baskets.” This was the liquidation of Szebnie. Moshe Katz and I had some money. It might be hard to believe, but we found ways to make some money. If we were caught with it, this could be the reason for our executions. So, we hid the money behind a brick and made sure our pockets were empty. My friend, Moshe Blauner, remained in Szebnie, as he wished. There was nothing we could do to convince him to come with us, he just refused. Moshe Katz and I could have stayed, too. We spoke about it, but could not see the sense. Here was a Komman- dant who was a heartless murderer in a camp that was being closed. I have gone over what happened thousands of times in my mind, and I still can’t come to terms with it. Moshe Blauner was like a brother to me. What puzzles me is that we did nearly everything together. Moshe was the closest in age of the Blauner brothers to me. We went to school. We were in the same class, together. When the kids in our class studied religion, and the Jewish boys were excused, it was me and Moshe who left to play stickball together. Even when things got bad in Grybow, Moshe left his family, just like me, and went to do roadwork north of the town. And of course, that’s why we both ended up in Szebnie. So, why he decided to
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