The Horse Adjutant Living as we did in the 1930s, there were no escaping chores. No matter how many times I tell you I explored the woods, I did what I was told by my parents first. I re- member once taking one of our chickens to the Kosher butcher for slaughter. This sick- ened me, too, but it made for a fine dinner. I can’t put my finger on it, but I am sure my father and grandfather taught me something about horses just by watching them, and more importantly, I believe the little I learned from them most probably saved my life. I will never forget my mother Chaja’s restrained beauty. She was always busy with kids, cooking, or cleaning. I was never told how she met my father. All I knew is that she was raised on my grandfather Papa Joe Braw’s farm, about 12 kilometers east of Tarnow and that she had a big family that all lived there. Together, between both of my parents, we must have had close to 200 relatives living nearby. My father’s older brother, Izrael, was one of them. He lived nearby in a rented a house near the River Biała, over by the candy store. In that little house, he raised a large family of seven sons and two daughters. My uncle was about 10 years older than my dad. He was strong and handsome, and although I don’t specifically remember all of his kids, I do remember playing with them. Only one survived, Eliezer. He found safety in Russia and then later after the war immigrated to Israel. Overall, I felt we lived in balance with many different races in a safe and civilized society. However, when I look back through the books of history, I realize war loomed over this region time and time again. Compared with what ended up happening in my lifetime they were mere skirmishes. Before I would turn 19, the entire Jewish com- munity would be gone, and the region of Galicia would be almost Judenfrei, a Ger- man word that means without Jews, and my entire world would be destroyed, father, mother, sisters, brother, relatives, community, region and state. It is incomprehensible to think that most of my extended family was wiped out in only three days! This is exactly what happened at the Belzec extermination camp, on September 1st-3rd, 1942. During these few days, my family was not alone. 10,000- 12,000 local Jews were also murdered using the same method. Except for a few survi- vors like me almost the entire region of Galicia was destroyed in a period of a single year. The number of deaths is an unconscionable 600,000. That is close to 50,000 people per month. From my hometown, fewer than 10 Jews survived. What is left today at Belzec has finally been turned into a world-class museum. When it was commissioned, leaders from all over the world went there and gave speeches. I was appalled years earlier when I visited this site to see its disrepair and personally helped to establish the museum. Belzec is an example of the worst humankind is capable of; it was solely an extermi-
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