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IN-DEPTH FEATURES
22 Tammuz, 5765 marks the 61st yahrtzeit of HaRav Avrohom
Grodzensky zt"l, the mashgiach of Slobodka. Last year on
parshas Voeschanon we published some material
describing his background and some of his accomplishments.
This year we continue. These two articles describe the last
years of HaRav Grodzensky's life that were lived in the Kovno
Ghetto. As HaRav Efraim Oshry wrote, "Death in the ghetto was
not always heroic. [But] ghetto life . . . [was,] in the
spiritual sense, extremely heroic." HaRav Grodzensky's life
and work, which ended very painfully in the Kovno Ghetto, is
an inspiration for us to see what man can reach even weighed
down by unimaginable adversity. It is a lesson we must learn
during the period of Bein Hametzorim.
Part II
The first part described the German attack on Lithuania
and the events leading up to the formation of the Kovno
Ghetto. Rav Avrohom's last three years, which he spent in the
Kovno Ghetto, were the crowning chapters of his life of
teaching, guiding and inspiring others. Rav Avrohom
maintained his equilibrium under all conditions.
The Bochurim Came on Shabbos
His daughter writes, "Every Friday night the surviving
bnei Torah of Slobodka Yeshiva would meet in our house
and Father would tell them divrei Torah and give them
support and encouragement. The bochurim were broken in
both body and spirit. They were left by themselves, sole
survivors of their entire families. That and the crushing
labor that they did in the German factories left them utterly
drained. They were also continually starving. They had no
clothes or other belongings that could be bartered with the
gentiles for supplementary food. They therefore suffered more
from hunger than others did.
"Yet despite everything, the bochurim were most
particular about coming to our house every Friday night to
hear Father's shmuess. It wasn't easy for them to
maintain concentration and listen. Their weakness, hunger and
exhaustion almost overwhelmed them. But the words of comfort
and encouragement that Father lavished upon them were a
wellspring of support that gave them the strength to continue
without breaking. [When one of his talmidim collapsed
under the burden of the forced labor, Rav Avrohom arranged
for him to be spirited out of the ghetto to one of the nearby
villages where he could recuperate.]
"Following the shmuess they would daven ma'ariv
with a minyan — something else that was very
rare in
the ghetto.
"It is hard to understand what emotional resources Father
drew upon that enabled him to maintain his concentration for
learning and to give encouragement to all those around him
under the harsh ghetto conditions and the constant hunger for
bread. Yet he continued doing so throughout all the years of
the ghetto's existence.
"It is fascinating to note that Father was always calm. His
face was always serious but it always radiated tranquility.
His face continued shining in the ghetto's darkness. He was
always, always calm, not panicky — despite the fact
that
starvation left its mark on him; he grew very thin indeed, to
the point where he could hardly be recognized.
"Father's tranquility had an effect upon those around him,
especially upon his talmidim and acquaintances who
would come to visit him frequently to consult him or for some
calming words.
"The most characteristic features of life in the ghetto were
the constant fear and panic: How to find food? Where is it
easiest and most worthwhile to work? When to go into hiding?
And where? These and other such concerns, upon which one's
survival depended, left people alarmed, worried and
frightened. It was all the worse because of the sad fact that
most people were left without their families, who had been
dragged off before their very eyes. The uncertainty about the
fate of their loved ones almost drove people to despair.
"And in our house, those wounded, grieving souls found calm.
They heard divrei Torah and words of comfort and
support and they grew a little calmer. Without question, the
hour that they spent with father gave them the emotional
resources and the strength that they needed to continue along
their paths of suffering.
"Not once did Father complain, nor did he ever express his
worries. On the rare occasions when things were relatively
easy for us and there was sufficient food in the house he
would say, `How good we would have it now if only the boys
would come home already . . .' They however, had long since
not been among the living."
His Ghetto Shmuessen
Rav Oshry writes, "In the ghetto he studied Torah with his
surviving students, emphasizing the Torah's perspective on
martyrdom and the halachic guidelines pertaining to it. The .
. . students gathered late every Shabbos afternoon in his
narrow, little room at 8 Furman Street near the Slobodka
Yeshiva. There, despite the Gestapo, my Rebbi would discourse
on ethical and moral matters in his deep, extraordinarily
exciting manner. He spoke often about kiddush Hashem,
martyrdom, instilling courage and soul-vigor into the
downtrodden survivors of Lithuanian Torah Jewry.
"My holy Rebbi used to remind us that a person who accepts
martyrdom intending to sanctify Hashem does not feel the pain
inflicted upon him. One need only recall the gemora's
description of Rabbi Akiva's martyrdom to learn that even the
most excruciating pain is not felt during true martyrdom."
The End Approaches
After every Aktzia, the ghetto shrunk in size as well as in
numbers, as the Germans moved the barbed-wire fence to
exclude buildings that had been emptied of their inhabitants.
On one such occasion, the area where the Grodzensky family
lived was slated for exclusion from the ghetto, forcing them
to relocate. Rav Snieg helped once again. He found them a
room in a house where all the neighbors were observant,
allotted them the quieter, inner room instead of an outer one
that served as a passageway and found yeshiva bochurim
whom they knew, rather than strangers, to share their room
(where eight people had to sleep).
In mid-5703 (1943), the ghetto inhabitants became aware of a
shift in German fortunes. The Lithuanians who would come in
and out of the ghetto informed them of huge losses that the
Russians were inflicting on their enemies. Blood-soaked army
uniforms began arriving at the ghetto laundry; whose Jewish
workers, among them some of the Slobodka bnei yeshiva,
had to do the gruesome and tremendously difficult task of
washing the uniforms by hand so that they could be reused.
With the German defeats, the Germans and their Lithuanian
allies began to grow nervous. They blamed the Jews for all
their setbacks and set about killing ghetto Jews
indiscriminately. At the same time, the Jews drew hope and
encouragement from the prospect of the outside world coming
to their rescue when it learned of their predicament. Whilst
in the ghettos and camps, the Jews believed that the outside
world was simply ignorant about what they were suffering.
However, when the Kovno Jews learned that the liquidation of
the Vilna and Riga ghettos had begun and that the huge Jewish
community of Warsaw had been entirely wiped out, their mood
grew somber and tense. Clearly, it was only a matter of time
before they suffered the same fate. Even the most optimistic
among them felt that their fates were sealed.
Slowly though, the example of the fierce resistance that the
last Warsaw Jews had offered bred a new resolve to resist the
Germans' plans. Many young people escaped from the ghetto
into the surrounding forests, where they joined the
Lithuanian partisans. Within the ghetto, work got underway to
prepare hidden underground bunkers where those who could not
escape might hide. As a result of the decision to resist, the
mood among the ghetto Jews changed drastically. The abject
terror, instilled by years of German control, dissipated;
people felt freer and even stopped fearing death.
In Elul 5703, the Germans announced that the ghetto would be
liquidated and replaced by the Kovno concentration camp and
that the SS would now be in control. The tefillos of
the Yomim Noraim of 5704 were of unparalleled
intensity
and fervor as Jews prayed in preparation for death. But the
end was not so near; there would still be much suffering and
agony. Further aktzionen took place, one of which
surpassed all the others in its horror.
On the third of Nisan 5704, after the adults had left the
ghetto for work and all the Jewish policemen had been called
away for an "inspection," the Germans surrounded the ghetto
and a fleet of buses, all their windows painted over, drove
inside. At home were the elderly, the young children and
their mothers. From the buses burst Germans with their
Lithuanian and Russian accomplices, accompanied by dogs.
Pandemonium broke out as they proceeded to go from house to
house, dragging struggling and wailing children out with
them. Desperate mothers tried to hide their children or at
least to avoid being separated from them; that too, was often
denied them. Many of them were beaten and shot before their
children's eyes. There were further heart-rending scenes when
the work brigades returned and parents discovered what had
happened.
The Germans returned the following day to continue the job.
From the many censuses they had taken they knew that many
children had evaded them. This time they came with
bloodhounds, picks, axes and grenades, with which they tried
to destroy every possible hiding place and flush out its
inmates. The death toll for the two days was two thousand
young and elderly Jewish souls. Forty of the more senior
Jewish policemen were murdered too, after they had been
tortured to get them to reveal where children were hiding.
With one possible exception, they endured their suffering
without divulging what they knew.
*
In common with many other families, the Grodzenskys had
prepared a bunker in anticipation of such troubles. Rav
Avrohom's son Yisroel Hy'd, and a close friend and
Slobodka talmid, Rav Shmuel Rose zt'l, dug out
a
tiny underground hiding place where Rav Avrohom and
ylct'a his youngest son Yitzchok hid safely during the
Kinderakzion. The reunited family hardly felt able to
rejoice though, surrounded by so many shattered, bereaved
parents. "The horrifying sights broke our hearts," writes
Rebbetzin Wolbe. "I think that that day was the bitterest and
most awful of all the ghetto days, all of which were bitter
and difficult."
His Last Lessons
There were several changes after that. Germans began
patrolling the ghetto, replacing the murdered Jewish
policemen. No more hiding places could be built and those
that already existed had to be guarded even more carefully.
There was an atmosphere of finality in the ghetto; everyone
could sense the impending end. The Jews knew that the Germans
were apprehensive about facing another uprising, as they had
in Warsaw a year earlier. They were determined to prevent
that happening at any price.
Although Rav Avrohom had survived the aktzion that was
to have purged the ghetto of its "unproductive" elements, the
danger to his life had not lessened. He could no longer stay
at home on his own. It was imperative that he be registered
at some workplace and obtain a worker's card. This was
arranged for him by a Mr. Friedman, an observant Jew who
respected Rav Avrohom highly. Before the war Mr. Friedman had
been an expert in furs; in the ghetto he was a department
manager in one of the ghetto workshops. The Germans valued
these workshops greatly and all the articles that were
produced there, such as shoes, furs and diamonds, were taken
to Germany.
Every day Rav Avrohom had to walk from his home to his
workshop. It was a long distance for him and not an easy
journey. "In my mind's eye," writes Rebbetzin Wolbe, "I can
still picture Father o'h, walking arm in arm with my
brother Yisroel. They proceeded slowly, step by step, until
they reached the workshops. There was a place arranged there
for Father in some storeroom to the side, where he could
spend the time in relative quiet until it was time for work
to end.
"During this time Father didn't sit idle, choliloh! He
would secretly gather all the talmidim of the yeshiva
who were in the workshops and would learn with them and
encourage them. Father ascribed Am Yisroel's troubles
and suffering to people's weakened observance of twelve
fundamentals.
"The period that Father spent in the workshops was a happy
one for the bnei hayeshiva. His talmid Rav
Shmuel
Rose describes the `work' that Father did in the workshops
and in the ghetto generally in his sefer, Shiras
Shmuel (see box). One of the few survivors [of that
period] was Rav Zuckerman zt'l, who was a
talmid
of the Chofetz Chaim and later rov of beis haknesses
Perushim in Givat Shaul, Yerushalayim."
Rav Rose notes, "Rav Avrohom suggested to his talmidim
that they make twelve undertakings and they all signed to
undertake [observance of] these [fundamentals] as and when
they survived." The twelve are listed in Toras Avrohom
(pg. 17): 1) Faith in Hashem, 2) Keeping Shabbos, 3)
Taharas hamishpochoh, 4) Taking care not to consume
forbidden foods, 5) Not taking interest, 6) Raising children
in the Torah way, 7) Taking care not to neglect Torah study,
8) To love friends and other Jews, 9) To engage in kind
deeds, 10) To be satisfied with what one has, 11) To trust in
Hashem, 12) Eretz Yisroel.
A few days after the dreadful aktzion, Rav Avrohom sat
down for the seder at a small, round table that stood
next to the entrance to his home, together with his depleted
family and several bochurei yeshiva. The evening's
special excitement and emotion were mingled with sadness and
pain. They began, Rav Avrohom trying to lead the seder
just as he usually did. Suddenly, the door burst open and a
tall, burly German entered, carrying ammunition. They
realized that he was an officer.
"Matzoh, eh?" he said, looking at the table. He then
looked around the crowded and cramped tiny room. He checked
the work cards to make sure that everyone had been at work
that day and lifted the bed covers to ensure that no children
were hiding underneath the beds.
"While the German was checking our room," writes Rebbetzin
Wolbe, "we felt our world collapsing. We were sure that he
was going to take us away — to who knew where? —
or maybe
he would kill us right over here? . . . They were moments of
dreadful, paralyzing fear. We knew that only a miracle could
save us.
"And the miracle happened! After he finished checking he left
the room without a word. We really felt that for the time
being at least, we had gone from darkness to bright light . .
. "
The Ghetto's End
The days continued dragging by with their usual routine. They
turned into weeks and the weeks into months, as the
frightened ghetto inhabitants waited for the ax to fall.
Several months after the aktzion, a rumor circulated
that the ghetto would be liquidated in a week's time and that
all the survivors would be taken to Germany. Then, the work
brigades stopped being taken out of the ghetto to work.
Everyone sat at home waiting for the end.
It was unbearable just to sit powerlessly and wait. During
that last week, virtually all the ghetto inhabitants went
into hiding. Many managed to leave the ghetto and seek asylum
in the homes of gentiles, in exchange for their last
possessions. Some managed to survive that way but many others
were betrayed to the Gestapo by their `benefactors.' Rav
Avrohom turned down a suggestion that he too, be spirited out
of the ghetto disguised as a priest, explaining that halochoh
forbade such a step.
Since the Grodzenskys did not have a good hiding place of
their own, they split up. Rav Avrohom and his two surviving
sons hid in a large bunker in the area of the ghetto
workshops. It was generally assumed that the Germans would
protect the workshops, which they controlled, and where a
large amount of valuable merchandise was stored. Rebbetzin
Wolbe had a place in a large, well-equipped bunker in the
shop where daily food rations were distributed. One of her
younger sisters had managed to escape from the ghetto, while
the youngest sister hid in a small, primitive bunker near the
ghetto's barbed wire fence. The plan apparently was that in
the event of trouble, it would be relatively easy for those
hiding there to escape from the ghetto to freedom.
Although the bunker under the shop had been well planned, it
was holding more people than it had been built for. The air
was oppressive, fetid and odorous. Breathing was difficult
and sweat poured from everyone. They sat there for several
days, each person wrapped up in his own thoughts, the
suffering of loneliness compounding the agony of their
surroundings.
One day, the sounds of digging were heard. Rebbetzin Wolbe,
whose place was adjacent to the outer wall where the digging
was taking place, rose at once almost without thinking and
picked her way over the others until she reached the center
of the bunker. Just a few moments later, an explosion rent
the air. A grenade had been tossed inside, exploding exactly
where she had been sitting moments before. Orders were
shouted in German for everybody to leave the bunker.
They were taken to the ghetto square, where they joined other
Jews who had been found hiding; periodically, new groups of
captured Jews arrived. They were kept out in the open all
that night, despite the falling rain. Rebbetzin Wolbe
suddenly discovered that her two brothers were also there.
After the initial joy at meeting, the elder brother, Yisroel,
burst into bitter tears. He and Yitzchok, the youngest, had
been separated from their father when their hiding place was
discovered. As the men left the bunker, the Germans had
received them with vicious blows. Rav Avrohom's bad leg had
been badly injured and his unbearable pain had prevented him
from taking a single step. It had been decided to take him in
a wagon to the Ghetto Hospital. When he tried to accompany
his father, Yisroel had been beaten and prevented from doing
so.
Early the next morning, the prisoners were marched off
through Slobodka. Rebbetzin Wolbe writes, "We marched down
Paneriu Street, where we had lived until the ghetto was
reduced in size. Now we were nearing our house, where we had
lived for many years. Through a mist of tears I managed to
look at the house — and felt a spasm in my heart. Our
house
— the house where we were born, where we lived and grew
up;
the house whose walls had absorbed so much Torah, yiras
Shomayim and Jewish warmth . . . now this house was in
the
impure hands of the gentiles who had taken it over . . ."
They marched across the bridge to Kovno and along its long
streets, to the second bridge, leading to Alexot. There, when
they arrived at the railway tracks, they were ordered to
stop. Cattle cars were waiting and, after crowding inside,
their journey to Germany began.
It transpired that their discovery had been for the best.
Before the Germans left the ghetto, they set fire to all the
buildings and many Jews who were hiding in small, poorly
designed bunkers, were either burned alive or choked to
death. This was the fate of the youngest Grodzensky daughter,
Hy'd. Some Jews however, did survive in their bunkers
and were liberated some weeks later when the Russians entered
Kovno. Rav Oshry was among them.
All My Life I Have Waited
The last surviving Jews to have been taken away from the
Kovno ghetto reported having seen the ghetto in flames. They
also saw the hospital, where Rav Avrohom had been taken five
days earlier unable to walk, in flames. This was how his
family learned of his murder al kiddush Hashem, on
Thursday, the twenty-second of Tammuz 5704.
In a letter written years later, Rav Shmuel Rose described
the visit he paid Rav Avrohom in the hospital.
"It is known that on Tuesday, the twentieth of Tammuz towards
evening, they put him in the hospital after he received a
blow from the murderers when they found him in hiding with
his eminent son R' Yisroel . . . I watched our master and
teacher zt'l traveling on a wagon accompanied by a
German ym'sh. R' Yisroel was on the wagon too . . . I
saw them bringing him into the hospital . . . I waited a long
time before I saw his son returning with the German. I cried
out, "Yisroel!"
He only answered, "Visit Father!"
I was in the hospital a few moments later. When our master
and teacher saw me he was amazed — "How did you know?"
— I
stayed there until very late. They gave him an injection to
ease the agonizing pain. I brought him food from the adjacent
houses (that were empty, their inhabitants having been taken
away).
Early the next day I came to the hospital with a small bundle
. . . despite the danger from the Germans that this involved.
Our master and teacher told me that Rav Snieg had been there
and had bid him farewell. I asked him what we should do. He
said that in his opinion, we should take him on his bed to
where all the ghetto Jews were standing . . . We tried to
lift him . . . We couldn't move him because of his terrible
pains . . . He told us, "Stop . . . You, tzeischem
lesholom . . . I must remain here . . . Hashem
yisborach should help you and give you everything
good."
I stayed on and the tears fell from my eyes . . . I saw a
tear in his eye too . . . but he immediately overcame [his
melancholy] and a smile appeared on his holy lips. He said,
"Go to[wards] peace to the place [where all the Jews were
standing] . . . You must not endanger yourself." A moment
later he said, "The Alter of Slobodka said that Yonah Hanovi
said, "Lift me up and cast me into the sea." Why did he say,
"Lift me up"? To gain time . . ." He didn't conclude . . .
At that moment a German entered and said angrily, "Do you
want to stay here? If you do, you won't be able to leave!"
I replied, "He is my father . . . and I want to help him . .
. then I'll go to the [meeting] place." By way of reply he
pushed his weapon into me and I fell over. I rose to my feet
straight away . . . took our master and teacher's hand and
kissed it. I also kissed his pure face and we both wept aloud
. . . Our master and teacher called to me, "Send regards to
my sons . . . and to the bnei hayeshiva... and may
Hashem yisborach help you all and send you salvation
soon."
I replied, "Omein, may Hashem yisborach help us
to merit meeting again in the near future." But he didn't say
anything.
The German stood there watching everything without raising
his hand . . . I prayed in my heart that we would merit
meeting our master and teacher again — but in vain.
. . . In the internment camp, I heard from others that on the
following day, Thursday, the twenty-second of Tammuz, they
set fire to the hospital . . ."
Rabbi Oshry writes, "There were a number of ill patients in
the hospital, including children. There were also people
there who had tried to flee the camp and had been shot and
wounded and were now hovering in great pain between life and
death . . .
"When Shimon Segal visited him shortly before his death, my
Rebbi told him, `Try to help the little girl in the next bed.
She is a child. Calm her down. Why is she responsible? Why
should she be burned alive?' He knew what was being planned;
the ghetto was already on fire.
"A yeshiva student was the last to report a visit with the
great and righteous sage. He reported Rav Grodzensky's last
words to him, `I do not care what happens to me. My pain will
not cause me anguish. I will suffer from hearing the groans
of my brothers and sisters and the little children as they
are asphyxiated by the fire.' "
Postscript: The Aftermath
Rebbetzin Wolbe was taken to a labor camp in Germany, where
she miraculously survived the war's gruesome final stages.
After the war ended she was taken with other Jewish girls to
Sweden for recuperation and she later joined the staff of the
school at Lidinge, near Stockholm, for Jewish girls who had
survived the war.
It transpired that Yisroel Grodzensky Hy'd, was
murdered in a German labor camp.
Rebbetzin Wolbe's eldest sister, who had emigrated to Eretz
Yisroel before the war and was married to HaRav Chaim
Kreiswirth zt'l and living in Yerushalayim, discovered
that she was alive and established contact.
From the Kreiswirths she learned that a younger sister, Leah,
who had escaped from the ghetto before its was liquidated and
hidden with a nun, had also survived and was on her way to
Italy, hoping to travel from there to Eretz Yisroel.
Leah reached Italy and one day, as she was walking down the
street, she met someone who looked like her youngest brother
Yitzchok. She couldn't be sure — during the late stages
of
the war, everybody's appearance had drastically changed.
Moreover, this youngster was dressed in rags such as she had
never seen her brother wearing. She stopped and examined him
— and then they recognized each other. Until that
moment,
neither of them had known of the other's survival. Shortly
thereafter, they both reached Eretz Yisroel.
Through the efforts of her brother-in-law HaRav Kreiswirth,
Rebbetzin Wolbe received a certificate enabling her to
emigrate "legally" to Eretz Yisroel. She joined the other
survivors of her family less than a year later. She married
the mashgiach HaRav Shlomo Wolbe. Her sister Leah
married HaRav Boruch Rosenberg zt'l, who served as
rosh
yeshivas Slobodka in Bnei Brak until his petiroh more
than a year ago.
In 5731, Kollel Toras Avrohom was opened in Bnei Brak, headed
by Rav Avrohom's surviving son Rav Yitzchok Grodzensky
ylct'a. Over the years, Rav Avrohom's sons-in-law,
HaRav Kreiswirth, HaRav Rosenberg and HaRav Wolbe delivered
shmuessen there every year, on the twenty-second of
Tammuz.
In his hesped, HaRav Sher referred to Chazal's account
of Rabbi Akiva's martyrdom.
"When Rabbi Akiva's soul departed he was in the power of
Roman officers and his flesh was being cruelly destroyed by
iron-toothed combs. Engulfed in suffering, Rabbi Akiva
intensified his love [for Hashem] and taught his students a
further lesson in believing that, `Whatever the Merciful One
does is for the good.'
"His astonished students asked him whether one is required to
maintain this belief even to such extent? He responded with
the Torah's counsel: `All my life I have been yearning and
longing for the hour when I have the opportunity to delight
in loving Hashem not only with all my heart but with all my
soul as well, as the Torah demands of me. There is no greater
good for me — I can therefore honestly say, `Whatever
the
Merciful One does is for the good" and accept the yoke of
Heaven's authority in the fullest and most sublime sense.'
"This is what we saw in Rav Avrohom . . . who gathered many
crowds in the Torah's sanctuary and remained at his post to
the very end. When he saw the destruction of the Yeshiva, of
its leaders and students, he himself returned the keys of the
Mikdosh to Heaven . . . He accepted Heaven's decree
lovingly, rejoiced in suffering and fulfilled [the mitzvah to
love Hashem] `with all your soul.' During the harsh, dreadful
moments of his death throes he asked those around him for
another moment of life — another moment to sanctify
Heaven's
Name, as befits [one who lived] a life of truth . . ."
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