Resistance: Jews and Christians Who Defied the Nazi Terror

by Nechama Tec

  Soon Platon shared with Smolar a letter of accusations against Tuvia Bielski, which demanded his death. Glancing over this document, Smolar suggested that instead of relying on paper accusations they should pay a visit to the Bielski detachment and directly assess the situation. Platon agreed and the two friends mounted their horses and rode to the Bielski detachment.

  Upon reaching their destination, they were impressed by how all the Bielski partisans were engrossed in orderly and productive jobs. The entire detachment was divided into different workshops: a bakery, a sewing place where clothes were fixed and created, a sausage factory, a collective kitchen, and more. The visitors were full of admiration as they watched the organized activities.

  Platon in particular was intrigued by the huge pots of boiling water in which animal skins were being transformed into leather. His enthusiastic comments evoke his surprise at the resourcefulness of the idea: “Making leather would benefit them in more ways than we could imagine; it would involve the making and fixing of shoes, creating all kinds of goods like saddles, belts, leather coats and hats! After all, a host of valuable articles can be made only out of leather!”

  At the next day’s meeting in the partisan headquarters, Platon noted that the Bielski detachment “had people who were equipped and qualified to offer indispensable services to our partisan fighters.” Platon described how the Bielski detachment was capable of performing many valuable services for the entire Soviet partisan movement in the area. Smolar emphasized that both the Jewish and non-Jewish partisans would benefit from these new connections. Still, he was enough of a realist to recognize that these new ties would not erase the conflicts and hostilities which were directed at the Bielski detachment in general and at Tuvia Bielski specifically. Smolar approved of Tuvia’s calm, but at the same time he understood why people envied him. Platon’s recent support could diminish opposition to Tuvia, but might not eliminate it. Indeed, General Dubov, a longtime communist, remained a consistent opponent of Bielski and his partisans. Because of Platon’s recent endorsement, however, Dubov curbed his hostility toward Bielski. Tuvia was delighted with Platon’s support and correctly saw in him a powerful ally. For one thing, it gave him greater freedom to concentrate on the protection of Jewish lives.

  Engaged in protracted struggles, the German Army from time to time would send one or two divisions of soldiers to encircle large portions of the Belorussian forests. By doing so, the Germans had hoped to achieve several goals. Successful encirclement had the potential of offering to the German Army direct access from Berlin to the Soviet German front. It would also provide an opportunity to destroy most of the partisan groups, which were active in this area. Creating a direct path between Berlin and the Soviet Union would increase their chance of victory. Those who were involved in these continuous conflicts knew that the different partisan groups would have to fend for themselves. They knew as well that not all partisan groups were equally able to face up to the Germans.

  By the summer of 1943 special documents fell into Russian hands, documents that included plans about the German attack upon the Nalibocka forest. Other evidence mentioned August 1st as the official starting date for the next anti-partisan assault. Most partisans in these Belorussian forests knew that they could not defeat the Germans. Therefore, an early order went out to all partisan commanders in the area not to engage the enemy in open battles. However, each partisan detachment was asked to send some of its partisans to the headquarters. It was assumed that these fighters would participate in collective anti-German efforts. The Bielski Jewish partisan group contributed 100 armed men for such future confrontations.35

  Despite these cooperative efforts each partisan group had its own agenda. The Poles were represented by Kasper Milaszewski, a Polish officer who had organized a separate fighting group known as Kosciuszko partisans. Most members of this group identified with the AK. Although an AK officer, Milaszewski had cooperated with the Soviet local headquarters. At the same time, less openly, he had coordinated his anti-German moves with a group of Polish cavalry fighters. These fighters and Milaszewski were each a politically strong group with strong nationalistic inclinations, which they tried to keep secret. Some of them were even affiliated with the Fascist part of the Polish underground, the Narodowe Sily Zbrojne (NSZ). The Poles preferred to keep such political leanings secret. Similarly, they had all shared a high level of Polish patriotism, which they were also reluctant to make public, as it would have placed them in a precarious situation. For quite some time, the Soviets were convinced that the Kosciuszko detachment was made up of local Poles who were free of political aspirations.

  As a communist and a partisan leader, Smolar explained: “Only gradually did we realize that Milaszewski and his men were connected to the Polish government in London. I began to guess this from the kind of literature Milaszewski gave me to read. We were isolated for some time. We did not know who these Poles were and what they were after.”36

  When the encirclement of this area threatened to become a reality, leaders of the Bielski detachment, which at that point included over 700 individuals, recognized the difficulties in transferring so many people to this hard-to-reach area. Many of the Bielski members were children, older people, and people who had health problems. Nor could the Bielski detachment remain in their regular camp, which was open and accessible to the enemy. The Bielski group came up with an alternative solution, which originated with one of their partisans, Michal Mechlis.

  As a professional surveyor before the war, Mechlis was familiar with most of these out-of-the-way surroundings. He suggested that the entire Bielski detachment should move to a remote place known as Krasnaja Gorka, the “red hill.” This hill was located inside a large swamp, surrounded by huge and partly inaccessible forests. Mechlis argued that in addition to safety this place would offer water, a variety of mushrooms, berries, and a range of other edible growths. Secluded, out of the way, people on the run were unlikely to venture here. Few were even aware that it existed.

  Preparations for a move into this remote refuge were set in motion under Tuvia Bielski’s watchful eyes. His orders were simple. His people had to fill their pockets with nonperishable foods, which were usually stored in their camp. They also had to bring with them their weapons and ammunitions. In addition, they had to tie themselves to each other, with belts, thick ropes, and strings, thereby creating a moving, long, “life” chain. Young children were placed on the shoulders of adults. Directed by Tuvia, these preparations proceeded in an orderly fashion. As usual, during evacuations, he was the last to leave a place.

  Here and there, as they progressed, they came upon unusual growths of weeds and strange-looking bushes and trees. Occasionally they halted. This continuously moving chain of human beings was disciplined and silent. Most seemed to concentrate on whoever was in front and behind them. Their movements were cautious, slow, and deliberate. The children, without extensive explanations, adjusted naturally. Here and there some of them rested by leaning upon each other, or on the thick growth. Some even managed to doze off. All along, Tuvia’s measured voice urged them to keep moving. The same voice advised them to eat sparingly, to save their food for later. They lost track of time. Mechlis managed to mingle among them, encouraging some, promising to the rest that they will make it.

  Days and nights seemed to blend into each other. The trek took more than a week. Finally Mechlis announced the end to their journey. The wild grass seemed to welcome them, as did the partially filled springs.

  The new arrivals were relieved and curious about their surroundings. Some began to divide into groups, each eager to learn what this isolated place had to offer. Mechlis instructed them on how to benefit from the nourishments offered by these unfamiliar growths. There were mushrooms and a range of fruits. Their cooperative spirits were mixed with an eagerness to share. All this led to cooking and to preparation of a variety of dishes.

  While it seemed to be isolated, a Belorussian woman appeared, carrying a basket. She
was brought to Tuvia for interrogation. She insisted that all she wanted was to collect some mushrooms. With further questioning, she became confused. Tuvia and the others concluded that she was a spy and had to be shot. One of the partisans agreed to transport her body to a more remote place. Those who were directly involved in this incident refrained from discussing it further.

  The incident was unique. Still, gradually, slowly, the food supplies began to dwindle. As a precautionary measure, the partisans dispatched a few volunteers who knew the area well to explore the situation. These investigators returned safely, but without additional food provisions. They succeeded in bringing information about the political situation, however. The news was that the Germans were preparing for departure.

  In western Belorussia, as elsewhere, the Poles and the Russians were competing for the control of the region. For a while, perhaps to neutralize the situation, the local Polish underground and the Soviets maintained official contacts. During the encirclement, some Polish detachments had even coordinated their moves with the Russians. The Poles fought valiantly and lost many men as they broke the German enclosure. By September, with the end of the encirclement, considerably reduced in size, the partisans returned to the Nalibocka forest.

  At that stage the Soviet-Polish cooperation became less stable, yet each side was still not prepared to challenge the other openly. As Smolar remembered, when the Poles caught a Russian partisan they would beat him up, take his weapon, and let him go.37

  Jews who were caught by Poles were not as fortunate. Particularly the unprotected small groups of Jewish civilians, in bunkers, or Jews who were roaming the countryside, were often attacked and killed by other partisans who, more often than not, were following orders issued by the head of the Polish Home Army.38

  Indeed the assaults of the Home Army had official sanctions in General Tadeusz Bor-Komorowski’s Order No. 116, dated September 15, 1943. The newly appointed Chief Commander of the Home Army wrote: “Heavily armed gangs are continuously prowling the towns and villages, assaulting the manors, banks and commercial and industrial enterprises, houses, apartments, and larger farms. Robbery, assaults often accompanied by murders, are being perpetuated either by Soviet-based partisan detachments or by ordinary gangs of robbers. Among the perpetuators there are not only men, but also women, in particular Jewish women. . . . I have instructed the regional and district commanders to resist the element responsible for pillage, banditry or subversion, by force if need be.”39

  With Platon’s support, Smolar was offered a number of interesting assignments. He recalled that around that time he shared leadership of a brigade, which included a number of detachments. “I was one of the three commanders who were at the top of this brigade. But in the Russian sources which usually listed the names of the heads of the brigade, my name was not mentioned. This was probably so because the rank I had was too high for a Jew.”40

  Involved in a wide range of partisan duties and exposed to many unusual experiences, Smolar had much to share.

  I had to travel to a lot of places, which sometimes exposed me to unusual events. . . . One day I left the forest with one of my adjutants. We had to go to a nearby village. Our walk was interrupted by loud screaming: “Germans! Germans!” First I was shocked, but when I recovered I asked: “How many are there?” . . . The answer was “one.” Relieved I made the boys lead us to the place, a nearby hut. Inside I saw a young man sound asleep. The rifle stood next to him. I took the gun away, woke him up and asked who he was.

  He must have recognized that we were partisans. I heard him say: “I need you, to you I came.” He told a story, which checked to be true. He was a reluctant soldier. He belonged to an underground organization known as the White Rose. This was an anti-Nazi, idealistic group of students who were dedicated to educating the public about the dangers of the Nazi ideology and how it undermined all human values. This idealistic, small group was ruthlessly destroyed by the Nazi regime.41 In no time, this newly arrived German soldier explained that his socialist father urged him to desert the German army and to join the fight against Nazi Germany. From his train window he noticed signs warning German troops about the impending dangers of anti-German partisans. This soldier saw in this announcement an opportunity to fulfill his father’s aspirations. He jumped off the train, in search of these forest partisans.

  A distrustful Smolar listened to this soldier’s story. He took the young soldier to their partisan hut, where he put him in the care of a Jewish partisan woman named Niura, to whom he explained the situation. He ordered her to watch him closely and that his work was to be limited to the kitchen. He also introduced him to a young Jewish girl. “Except for me and Niura no one else knew about this girl’s Jewish identity. She was concerned that her Jewish background should not be revealed to anyone.” Smolar continued,

  Occasionally I would come to visit this place and heard that this German soldier was adjusting well by becoming an active partisan. I also heard that he and the young Jewish girl were in love. At one of my visits I asked to see Fritz. When they called him in, the first thing I wanted to know was how his love affair with the young girl was progressing. He reacted swiftly: “ . . . Ach shit, she is a Jewess!” That was all he would say. With time this former German soldier gained a reputation of a good fighter, practically a war hero. After the war I shared the story, about his love affair, with a group of people. Some of them were members of the clergy. Surprisingly my listeners responded only with total silence!42

  As mistreatments of Jews expanded, some of it affected not only the Jews but also Russian partisans who were attached to Jewish women. This happened to Jozef Marchwinski, a Polish communist who was second-in-command of a Soviet detachment. Married to a Jewish woman, Marchwinski received a letter, signed by the head of his brigade and co-signed by General Platon, stating that his wife and one other Jewish woman, married to a partisan officer, should be transferred to the Bielski detachment. When Marchwinski’s strong objections failed to stop this order, all those mentioned in this letter joined the Bielski partisan detachment.43

  More morally devastating was the case of Fiodor Markow, the head of a brigade, who sent his partisans to the Vilna ghetto, urging Jewish underground members to come to the forest with their guns to fight the enemy. Markow argued that resistance within the ghetto would lead to the destruction of the entire ghetto population. He wanted the underground youths to move to his brigade, so that they could fight the Germans together. Markow insisted that Jewish resistance in the forest would reduce German power and prevent Jewish destruction. However, the ghetto fighters needed to bring their own guns.

  After considerable soul-searching and heated discussions, a substantial number of Jewish resisters decided to join the Markow brigade.44 On the way, some of them were killed by Germans, others by partisan groups. Those who had reached the Markow brigade faced bitter disappointments. Their prospective “comrades” turned out to be ruthless manipulators who tricked the Jews into parting with their arms.45 In addition, these so-called “friendly” partisans insisted that the Jews must give up all valuables, including money, watches, and jewelry. These they were told had to be converted into money for the purchase of arms and ammunitions. Markow threatened that whoever would not part with their possessions would be searched and severely punished. This additional move to deprive the Jewish underground of their valuables turned out to be a hoax.46 Many of these young people paid not only with their possessions but also with their lives.

  These developments led to the emergence of different forms of resistance: resistance to save the oppressed and resistance that involved avenging Jewish murders. Outstanding among these avengers was Dr. Icheskel Atlas, who, after witnessing the murder of his family—his parents and sister—by the Germans, dedicated himself to avenging them.

  For a while the Lipiczanska forest became the temporary shelter for small family clusters of unattached fugitives. Disorganized and unprotected, many of these groups lived in primitive bunkers. Unaccus
tomed to life in the forest, they were often attacked by partisan bands who robbed them of their meager belongings. Some Jews were murdered in the process. Occasionally, Atlas tried to help these people by warning them about impending dangers and by providing them with some food supplies and with moral support. According to one report, Atlas became depressed during his visit to one of these half-starved, defenseless family camps. He told them that he could not take them with him unless they were fit for combat. Atlas explained that all his partisans were fighters who were taking revenge for the victims of German oppression. “We are lost, but we must fight.”47 He inspired his fighters by “treating them as equals, never shouting but trying to explain and to convince. He set an example for all to follow and they did.”48

  In his dedication to punish as many Germans as possible, Atlas had the support of both the Jewish and Polish local population, who sometimes told him where there were stashes of arms left by the retreating Soviet Army.49 He devoted all his energies to devising ingenious ways for the collection and use of these weapons.

  Like so many other Jewish leaders who fought the Germans, Atlas identified with the plight of his people. Yet the help he offered was sporadic, not organized, and hence ineffective. His commitment to wage war interfered with the imperative to curtail Jewish destruction. His preoccupation with fighting the enemy made no room for saving lives. The last battle he fought was in November 1942, when he was severely wounded. His last order to his fighters was, “Pay no attention to me, go on fighting to avenge our tormented people.”50 His life as a fighter had lasted less than half a year.51