I
Escaped
Fom The Nazis

by
Rachmiel Frydland
It was on the 28th of August 1939 that I came to know the possibility of war.
I decided to stay in Warsaw. Supplies soon ran low and from September lst there was nothing to buy. Other young Hebrew
Christians and myself lived on what little we had
for ten days. Then we were called up to help defend Warsaw.
Three of us went and were accepted. As I did not want to shoot, I asked
for physical work and received it. They were hard days. Though we were
near the front and were being bombarded day and night, we all survived.
One of us was seriously injured, but recovered after a few weeks in the
hospital.
THE
GERMANS ARRIVE
The Germans entered
Warsaw toward the end of September, and soon there was famine in the
city. One of the Hebrew Christians stood in the line to receive some
hot soup which the German Army was distributing to the hungry Polish
population in Warsaw, but he was recognized to be Jewish, was beaten up and
thrown out of the line hungry. I decided to leave for a village near
Plock, which meant 75 miles on foot. Jews were not permitted to use any
public conveyances. As I was leaving Warsaw the Germans stopped
me. One looked me straight in the face and said with a rough voice:
"Are you a Jew?" I did not answer him. Upon this he hit me
and pushed me to the other side of the road, where I was handed a spade and
had to work with all my strength, though I had nothing to eat all day.
Toward the evening they took us to a camp where I sat down and wept. I do not
really know why. Some Jews tried to comfort me, so I wiped my tears
away and told them of my faith. A little later I felt moved to leave the camp
and in the sight of all I did so. No one challenged me.
I went on my way and slept in the open. The next day I found something
to buy; great was my joy when I went into a shop and found that there was
bread on sale there. How fresh and appetizing it was! After three
days I reached Plock and was received by the brethren with open arms.
TRIUMPHANT
FAITH
In the summer of 1940
I was going from our village to Chelm. On the
way some drunken German soldiers fell on me and beat me with a stick until I
fell senseless. They left me, and with my last powers I dragged myself,
bleeding, to Chelm. The doctor said he did
not know whether I would recover, as my wounds were probably infected and I
might die of blood-poisoning. To his great surprise I recovered after a
week, though I suffered a lot and could not eat for some time, for when I
did, I vomited blood.
I earned my living by working from time to time for farmers. At first I
had not much work, but soon I became known as an honest worker. Then,
except on Sundays, I was kept working hard at every kind of farm work from
sunrise to sunset and had no time for spiritual things. Oh! if I could only have foreseen what would happen, surely I
would not have eaten or worked, but would have done something to help those
that were to pass through such misery.
GOD
STRONGER THAN MAN
In the winter of
1941-42 there was not much work on the farms. The bigger cities had
Ghettoes where a certain slum district in the town was given up to the Jews
and surrounded by a wall and barbed wire. We in the villages were forbidden
to leave the village on pain of death. However, many times I risked my
life for my parents to go to the nearby town and bring home the necessities
for our lives. Being so faithful to them, my mother first got
interested and began to read my Yiddish New Testament secretly. The
Jews in the surrounding villages respected my faith and witness.
THE
GAS CHAMBERS
It was the time when
train load after train load of Jews were being taken to the gas chambers and
crematoria only about twelve miles from our village. We knew
what awaited us. In danger of death I went from time to time on Sundays to Chelm to have communion with the brethren there. I
spent a few months in a slave labor camp working hard, but this gave me a
chance to witness to Jews there.
On August 30th, 1942, I received the order to go to the gas chambers. I
did not go, but stayed at home and awaited the mercy of the Lord. On
September 24th the village mayor came and told me, while I was at work
(helping one of the peasants cutting wood), that he had received orders to
hand me over to the Gestapo. He gave me permission to say good-bye to
my parents who were in tears, especially my mother. The man who led me had
pity on me and hinted that I should escape. I did so and fled to the
woods. My sister was in hiding in the village, but my parents went when
they were called to go.
At this time two Jewesses joined us; they had escaped from the train that was
taking them to a death camp. Then three young Jews joined us in the
woods. They shared with us in the reading of the Bible, in song and
praise.
SNOW
AND DEATH
On November 24th our
fortunes changed. My sister, who was in the village, was killed.
We hid ourselves in the high grass that grew in the wood. They discovered and
took away all our food, but our lives were spared. That night heavy
snow fell some three feet deep. We had to go and get some food. Alas! when we reached the road leading to the village, the
police were there. What were we to do? There were shouts of
"Stop! stop!" and shots. For quite a
time I did not know what I was doing and where I was running, nor what was
happening. I did not think; I just ran and ran as shots whistled over
my head and around my ears.
At last there was silence; no one was pursuing me any longer. I flopped
on to a tree trunk; I could neither speak or
pray. My sweat chilled me. I gathered some sticks, made a fire
and gradually recovered my senses. No one was near to comfort me; only
the flame of my little fire broke the darkness around. My whole being
seemed to cry aloud, "Why are we so persecuted?" The coming
of morning brought no news, but I was convinced that my companions lived no
more. What was there left for me? I would have sought the police that
they might kill me too, but I had not yet recovered enough strength to go and
find them.
But there still remained the Lord, the same yesterday and today. He
began to speak to me with His soft voice. "You have enough of My
grace. Had not job enough; had not Paul enough?" I became
silent to hear what the Lord had to say to me, and He said much. For a
time I continued to weep, but then the victory! I stayed where I was
and decided to live as long as the Lord would allow me to live and work for
Him. I said, "If I am not necessary to God, surely He would have
taken me away; but if God wants me to live for Him, should I not bow to His
almighty will?" I bowed my knees and was cured. There I was,
alone in this cruel world, alone in those woods with the wild goats and
swine. I could no longer stay there. but there
or elsewhere I was not alone, for He had promised to be with me always; how
true this became to me, especially in those days when it seemed that no one
remained.
LIFE
SPARED
I started on my way
to Warsaw but was caught. I was not killed but put into a camp where
there were some 5,000 Jews. I was there eight days but not in
vain. Some believed my testimony and I soon had a circle of
sympathizers. At the end of the eight days the camp was surrounded by
black uniformed S.S. guards armed with machine guns, but God led me out, for
I jumped over the well from which both the peasants and the Camp drew water.
Once again I tried to go to Warsaw. This time I got to Chelm safely; here brethren helped me to get a railway
ticket for Warsaw. I arrived there on December 20th, 1942. I
returned to Chelm for Christmas, but was caught
again on Christmas Day as I was going from our village to Chelm.
Approaching the town, I stopped and told my captor that I was not going to
move until I prayed. His protests and threats had no effect on me as I
knew that only a few hundred yards further were the Gestapo quarters. I
knelt and prayed, yielding my life to God. When I arose my captor began
to talk to me softly and finally let me go free. I returned to Warsaw,
where I stayed awaiting the Grace of God.
THE
WARSAW GHETTO
From time to time I
went around the walls of the ghetto thinking of the possibility of getting
inside. One of the places where I was permitted to spend a night or two
in hiding was in the shop of a Christian undertaker.
With another Jewish Christian boy we put chips in one of the unfinished
coffins and thus spent the night. (Alas, this boy, too, was later caught and
killed). Here in the spring of 1943 1 became acquainted with Jews who
worked outside the Ghetto for a German firm adjacent to this Christian undertaker. As they had a special permit for
ten to leave and enter the Ghetto, one Friday they took me in with them
instead of the tenth who did not leave the Ghetto on that day. Thus a
week before the liquidation of the Ghetto I was able to get inside for the
weekend. I met some of our precious Jewish believers. They told
me their miraculous stories. Some had already died of starvation or
were imprison- ed and tortured to death.
Stasiek Eizenberg, a
young man who accepted his Messiah immediately before the war, had received
special permission for a Polish Pastor, Mr. Krakiewiczm,
to enter the Ghetto and baptize him there. He was later imprisoned for
being late to work and as he was awaiting death, he wrote a verse of his
favorite hymn on the wall. It so happened that the German officer came
in on that day and asked his Polish interpreter to translate all the inscriptions
of the victims. When they came to his hymn and the officer heard the
words (it was a Polish hymn translated from the German) he stopped and
demanded that the one who wrote it should confess, otherwise all would be
guilty. Stasiek confessed. The officer
went away, but in a few hours Stasiek Eizenberg was released.
As the Jewish believers were now awaiting definite extermination, I tried to
comfort them as best as I could. They insisted that I leave the Ghetto,
for God who preserved me until now would keep me to the end of the war, and
then I would be able to tell the Christians of those woes. I left the
Ghetto and was probably one of the last to leave before the liquidation
began. Time dragged on slowly. I had to learn to trust the Lord
for each minute. Whether spending the night with a Christian family who
risked their lives to take in a Jew for the night,
or in a coffin in the shop of a Christian undertaker, or in some barn, there
was the same assurance that the Lord wanted me to live and as long as He
wanted it, I was ready.
FREEDOM
ALAS!
Finally the hour
came, and I was no more hunted and condemned to die just because I was a
Jew. However my heart longed for freedom and fellowship with others who
believed that Jesus was their own personal Messiah and Saviour.
God granted me the desire of my heart and helped me to leave Poland and get
to England. Later God opened for me the way into the USA and afterwards
I went to Israel and spent four years there
among my own brethren. There I married a Jewish believer in the
Messiah. She also suffered under the Nazi occupation, in France.
We have four children, two girls and two boys, whom we have brought up in the
faith of God and the Messiah. We trust that you, too, know sins
forgiven and peace in all circumstances through the Messiah of Israel, the
Lord Jesus (Read Isaiah 53 and Romans 8-1 1).
Reprinted
with permission of
The Messianic Literature Outreach
www.messianicliterature.org
the Stone whom the builders rejected?
In Him is life, light and joy and in His sacrifice is forgiveness of sin.
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