Mr. Simcha Dobner – Part I

My name is Simcha Dobner. I was born on February 18, 1919, in Rejowiec, a small town in the district of Lublin, Poland. The town had roughly 500 Jewish families.

I was raised in a strictly Orthodox, Chassidic home. My father was a Triska chassid. We were five children: three girls and two boys. I was the second child. My parents were exporters of game. Our family was one of the wealthiest in the town. In the crash of 1929, my father’s business went bankrupt. The Polish taxes were exorbitant and my parents could not even pay for the bare necessities.

In 1938, when the threat of war filled the air, the Polish government openly fomented violent pogroms and murder.

Because of the worsening situation, my older sister, Bubcia, left home and traveled to Warsaw. Being a bright girl, she had no trouble finding a job and she soon married.  My younger sister, Chayale, joined Bubcia in Warsaw. My parents were reluctant and sad to let her go.

When did the Nazis invade Rejowiec?

September 1, 1939, marked the end of one thousand years of Jewish life in Poland, including in our small Jewish shtetl of Rejowiec. Explosions rocked the nearby railroad station. Air attacks became frequent and the news of the swiftly advancing Nazi army engulfed our community in panic.

That Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur were spent in terror and fervent prayers. On Erev Yom Kippur, news reached us that German troops were in the neighboring town of Krasnystaw, just 9 miles (15 km) from us. The first six Jewish victims were killed then.

The good news for us was that our town would now be occupied by the Russians, not the Nazis. One evening, two days before Sukkos, the first Russian patrols drove through Rejowiec. For the Jews, this was a relief from the pre-war Polish oppression we had suffered and we were grateful not to be occupied by the murderous Nazis instead.

However, on Hoshana Rabbah, we heard that a new pact had been made between the Nazis and the Soviets.  The Russians would retreat to the Bug River, which meant that Rejowiec was now condemned to Nazi occupation. On Shemini Atzeres and Simchas Torah truckloads of residents fled the city with the retreating Soviet troops. The remaining Jews, our family among them, were left at the mercy of the Nazis.  Our town was without any civil authority and the fear of a Polish pogrom filled us with horror.

On Sunday, October 15, at noon, the first German troops marched in and with their arrival, Polish hooligans began attacking Jewish homes and stores, plundering everything possible.

The Nazis began rounding up Jewish males for labor units on a daily basis. Each day, new decrees were issued. Jewish movement was restricted and trade forbidden.  Since Polish farmers now had to contribute a major share of their grain and cattle to the German authorities, obtaining food now became a difficult undertaking.

Did you have contact with your two sisters who had moved to Warsaw?

One late November night, we were awakened by a knocking at the door. We were afraid, but a gentle voice calling “Mommy!” transformed our fears into joy and relief. It was Bubcia and Chayale. Our reunion lasted several weeks.

Chayale’s Jewish appearance made any disguise impossible. However, her husband-to-be succeeded in obtaining a special transit permit for her so she could return.

Bubcia was able to disguise herself as a peasant Polish woman. She risked her life to return to Warsaw to be with her husband.  Unfortunately, her husband was arrested by the Gestapo for resisting a robbery in his store. They deported him to [Mathausen] Gusen. He became the first concentration camp victim in our family.

On January 25, 1940, Chamishah Asar biShvat, SS Commandant Hager arrived in Rejowiec with Gestapo troops and transformed our Jewish community into one of horror.

That morning, my younger brother Shloimele had already left for work so he wasn’t home. My younger sister Matel saw the sleds of helmeted SS troops arriving and she immediately warned my father and me to hide. We climbed through a concealed door to the attic. A few of our neighbors were already there. We hid there in silence, shivering from cold and deadly fear.

Outside, Jewish males were rounded up in the marketplace. The Gestapo whipped them, forced them to sing Jewish songs and then roll on the ground in the snow and ice.  After the community was forced to hand over a ransom of money, jewelry and cattle, the Gestapo troops left.

This horrible event is forever marked in my mind as the Bloody Thursday of Tu BiShvat.

To be continued