A handwritten letter written on a single squared sheet of paper (probably torn from a notebook) which has been folded in half. All four pages covered in writing. A few stains at the bottom of the first page. It contains Seweryn Tross's account of his circumstances and fate after the outbreak of the Second World War against a background of general observations.
Content:
(Wilno) Vilnius[,] 27 XII 1939
Dear Tadzio, [an exclamation mark changed to a comma; subsequent words of the line in a pen with a thicker nib] Mietek and Guta and other friends staying in France.
[thin nib again] When I received your last letter from you five months ago, we did not expect all the changes that had taken place in the world in [from the middle of another word writing in thick nib] the meantime. We knew perfectly well that there would be a war; we knew that Poland was a weak country (after all, we had read in the "[Neue] Zürcher Zeitung" about General Ironside's visit [the British military commander Edmund Ironside predicted after he visited Poland in July 1939 that Poland could be quickly conquered if war broke out]); nevertheless, we did not expect the kind of end we saw. You, far away in France, cannot imagine what we've experienced here at home. In any case, you may even be able to imagine it since you are in constant contact with the fourth brigade of Polish émigrés residing in France, who've probably duly informed you of all we've gone through. But I must say that our experiences were not up to par. The survivors of the bombing of Warsaw have a different story to tell. Different again to those who were in the army during the fighting, and finally to those who, on foot, wandering from town to town, from village to village, survived the hell of the bombing of towns and cities, strafing refugees wandering the roads, highways and country lanes. Warsaw, however, experienced the absolute hell. In this hell were our parents, our sisters... In the basement of the house at 15 Chłodna Street (ul. Chłodna 15) were the family of Leon Perl; at 6 Solna Street (ul. Solna 6) – the Grünstein family; at Grzybowska Street (ul. Grzybowska) – the Rosenstein family. Etc., etc. During those long 20 days, our parents fed on groats – no water, no bread, no potatoes...
I spent this time going around Poland on foot. Warsaw – Otwock – Żelechów – Szack – crossing the Bug River (the last ferry near Różanka, which was strafed) – Włodawa – Lublin (turning back) and finally Kovel. Corpses lying on the road, constant machine-gun fire, tanks, armoured trains, burning towns – this is the first chapter of my epic.
Then the second one unfolds. Kovel. Bolshevik troops enter the city. Anticipation. Enthusiasm. "Welcome them as saviours," writes Mr Ratajski, the mayor of Kovel, in a proclamation, "They are going to Warsaw!" – this is the general conviction of the population and the refugees. This, by the way, is what Soviet soldiers think – even the "political commissars". Two days after the Moscow radio announced that the Soviet-German demarcation line had been fixed, a Soviet "political commissar" in a commander's uniform instructed the assembled "Israelites" that an enemy of the people was anyone who spread sabotage rumours that the Soviet army should stop its march, that Lublin, Warsaw and Łódź should be handed over to the Germans... And yet they were handed over to the Germans... In the meantime, on the streets of Kovel, one could see the most unusual scenes, requiring the pen not of Sholokhov but of Erenburg. A Polish officer slapped twice by a Jewish militiaman, who rips off his epaulettes and yells, "this is for Mińsk – this is for Przytyk" [probably referring to the well-known anti-Jewish incidents of 1936 in Mińsk Mazowiecki and Przytyk near Radom] – or again a Jewish second lieutenant (Szwarcskajn[?], I think), committing suicide, refusing to give up his weapon to the militiamen arresting him. Robberies, murders, profiteering 18-hour bread queues and the thing really worth highlighting – the enthusiasm of the Volhynian peasants...
Chapter III. Lviv. Three months. Dregs floating on the surface; hypocrisy; odes in honour of 18 saints of the Lord. Mutual denunciation, vilification, brown-nosing. And amid all this, an incredible mess, disorganisation, miles-long bread queues, and profiteering, the extent of which you cannot imagine. Profiteering reaching the point of absurdity. You buy a bag of slippers for your left foot for 150 zlotys and sell it for 300 zlotys within an hour. Why? No one knows. Baisha-Hansha[?]... That's what you should have seen... And at the same time, you see the lice fight. Any old Schürer [?], Lec, Pasternak [?] have crawled in from all sides, one undermining the other, slandering the other, talking about what the other once said, what his objections were... Of our friends, Aleksander got a job – a miserable gig at the municipal cleaning services; Wanda is a [word underlined:] censor, and Zdzich kept his old job in Stanisławów... Aleksander's fake enthusiasm – and formal apathy. Your brother-in-law [i.e. Stanisław Wohl] (unemployed) and Jadzia [i.e. sister, Jadwiga, née Perl] dream of going to the West (he curses you; he had a passport to Romania but stayed), so did Zdzich and so on. I have the opportunity to make a "career". (600 zlotys per month, kilogram of butter 20 zlotys, shoes and clothes impossible to buy at all). Editorial or municipal office work... And finally –
Chapter IV. Vilnius. Jewish bourgeoisie. Loathsome disgusting mugs; heavily made-up girls dabbed with wrong lipstick; dandies in shabby garb, not a penny in their pockets. All living at the expense of the Hoover Foundation or the Joint. The care is indeed extraordinary. Food free of charge – dinner of 4 courses, breakfast and supper (white bread, butter, cheese, cold meat, marmalade) and 15 litai per person flat (room costs 30 litai). His Honour Judge Friede [commercial judge Maksymilian Friede?], Mr Rafał Szereszowski [financier, industrialist, social activist, before the war regarded as one of the wealthiest Polish citizens], Julian Glass [pre-war owner of a large Warsaw iron trading company] at a free dinner provided by the Joint. A sight to behold!!! But from here – a way out into the world. Costly, admittedly – but always a way out. By plane to Stockholm, from there by plane again – onwards to Europe – or by ship via Asia to America. (HIAS covers part of the travel costs). I'm separated from Warsaw by two borders. I know my family are living there somehow, the house undamaged, not robbed (which is a lot). Your family were also lucky, apparently. They've shipped Jadzia and Pestka to Lviv and they live their lives... How? They're alive – and that's a good thing). I have food and a place to sleep – yet I can't stand it here – idleness kills me – I must leave – [next words of the sentence underlined:] and you must help me with this. You have to get me a [two more words underlined:] French visa in Paris. (In Kaunas, they issue them to men under 28). Your connections, Tadzio, may come in handy here (“Głos Gospodarczy” (the “Economic Voice”) French issue)
(You contributed to it in Paris; I contributed to it in Warsaw, etc. journalist, francophile, “Czas” (the “Times”), editor – anything you want – as long as it works. It can be legion, French army, etc.... Make something up. That's what friends are for).
(I've helped Kazimierz and Zdzisław the same way)... Find Cękalski. Mr Karol Ford might be able to help you (tell him all my [?]), Paris V rue Rollin 5 (this man has tremendous connections, is the Polish speaker of the French radio (7 o'clock), has a grant from the French government). Talk to my uncles about it (ask them to send some money). Tell them what you like, as long as they help get me out of here[)] 2) H. Sztycer. Paris X. 209 St. Maur. [i.e. rue Saint-Maur] 1) B. Sztycer. Fabricant. Boulevard Barbes 40. Paris 18. (He is the son of Genia née Sztycer).
I could write lots and lots and lots... And I could tell you even more. But, above all, I would like to hug and kiss you. I wish this would happen. So many people leave – and I... live off the gracious support of the Joint.
!!! I demand an immediate reply. By telegraph, if possible (3 days). The air mail takes 7–14 days to arrive. Regular mail does not arrive at all. Kisses
Tross
[address framed by lines on three sides:] Seweryn Tross (Samuel Grynsztajn) | Lietouva [?] that is [Lietuva] | Vilnius | Piłsudskiego 20/2.
[next to it, underlined four times:] Visa and money!!!
PS Unheard of and ridiculous[,] Dr Adolf Atlas [see his biography on Virtual Shtetl; after the war, he stayed in the USA; in 1958, an invitation was sent to him to attend a reunion of the Male Gymnasium in Sanok: https://sanockabibliotekacyfrowa.pl/dlibra/show-content/publication/edition/373?id=373; before the war, he wrote, among other things, on economic topics] became a professor at the University of Lviv. He corresponds with Khrushchev [presumably Nikita Khrushchev, then First Secretary of the Communist Party of Ukraine (Bolsheviks)], etc. PS (Latest news) I've now learned that Staś [Wohl] and Jadzia [Wohl, née Perl] are on their way to see me. I think you will have to get it for them too. STross
transcribed by Ewa Małkowska-Bieniek, prepared by Przemysław Kaniecki
