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			KUPISHOK: The Memory Stronger 
			
			  
			
			  
			
			
			Here, look. A picture: a thousand shrieking horsemen, their swords 
			drawn, unleash their hatred against me and thirst for vengeance; 
			don’t ask me why. To escape them, I feign death. Who are they? 
			Crusaders of what faith? Cossacks in whose service? Frenzied 
			peasants seeking what adventure, covered with whose blood? Alive I 
			am their enemy; dead they proclaim me god. So, it’s for my soul’s 
			sake, for my everlasting glory, that they repeatedly wish to destroy 
			me and destroy my memory. But they don’t succeed. My memory is 
			stronger than they are, they should know that by now. Kill a Jew and 
			you make him immortal; his memory, independently, survives him. And 
			his enemies as well. The harder they strike, the more stubborn the 
			Jewish resistance. So, naturally, they are troubled. Puzzled by its 
			convulsions, owed by its fits of delirious fire. Poor men. They are 
			the players, but my memory governs the rules of their game. They 
			regard themselves as hunters, and so they are; but they are quarry 
			as well—and that they can never comprehend. Well, that is their 
			problem. Not mine. 
			
			  
			
			—Elie 
			Wiesel, A Beggar in Jerusalem 
			
			  
			
			  
			
			THE 
			SEARCH 
			
			I 
			am from Kupishok. I was not born there; I never lived there; I have 
			never seen the place. But Kupishok is a part of my historical and 
			cultural experience as a Jew, and it is the nexus with my more 
			ancient source, Jerusalem. 
			
			My 
			great-grandfather lived in Kupishok; so did my grandfather and the 
			other members of the Polin family. (My original family name is Polin.) 
			My father and mother were married there, and my brother was born 
			there; they emigrated to the United States, and here they died 
			natural deaths. My father’s sister, Chena Polin, remained in 
			Kupishok, married Shmerl Tuber and bore six children, five sons and 
			a daughter, before she died in 1933. 
			
			
			Hitler and his military and civil bureaucracy with the enthusiastic 
			support of some of the local populations murdered eleven million 
			people, six million of them Jews; one million of them Jewish 
			children; four of them my first cousins in Kupishok. The mind 
			becomes statistically numbed at the thought of millions of corpses. 
			I was haunted by the ghosts of my cousins. 
			
			
			What happened to the six Tuber children? What happened to them? Were 
			they alive, did they die, how did they die, were they ghettoized, 
			did they die in a ghetto, were they in a concentration camp, was 
			their burial place in the sky? What happened to them? 
			
			
			After my mother died, I found among her possessions a photograph of 
			a young man and a woman, and on the reverse of the photograph a 
			handwritten notation bearing the date, 1957. I believed it was a 
			picture of one of the Tuber sons. He looked like me. In the early 
			1970s I began efforts to discover the fate of the six Tuber 
			children, alive or dead. I contacted a number of international 
			organizations, the International Tracing Service in Arolsen, 
			Germany; United HIAS Service in Geneva; Yad Vashem in Jerusalem. And 
			always the answer was the same: no record of the Tuber name. Not a 
			trace. It was as though they had never been on earth. 
			
			In 
			1975 I visited Israel and there I met, for the first time, a 
			cousin—my mother’s niece, Sheva Fega, who had been born in Kupishok. 
			A woman now in her 60s, she was a holocaust survivor whom we had 
			encouraged to come to Israel some years before. During the First 
			World War she had been a war refugee together with my mother, my 
			brother and my mother’s brother—her father. Together now in her 
			living room in Bnai Brak we began to watch family pictures. There 
			was a problem. Sheva Fega had been deaf and mute since the age of 
			three. She could not speak, could not write, and knew no 
			international sign language. And yet we communicated—through her 
			grown daughter—with hand movements, facial expressions, and with 
			broken Yiddish. She recognized the picture I showed her of one of 
			the Tuber cousins, and as best as I could understand she indicated 
			that he was alive and living somewhere in Israel! 
			
			A 
			few days before leaving Israel that year I found a cab driver who 
			spoke Yiddish and Russian, and together we found the office of the 
			Russian language newspaper. There I arranged for an advertisement 
			featuring the picture of the Tuber cousin. After I returned to the 
			United States I received replies from cousins Josef Tuber and Ella 
			Tuber Gendelis living in Israel, indicating that their father was 
			also still alive and that their four older brothers had been killed 
			in 1941. I could not find it in my heart to ask them for details, 
			and they did not volunteer. 
			
			By 
			now I needed to know more—not only about the Tuber brothers, but 
			also the rest of the Jewish population in Kupishok. For me the 
			holocaust had focused itself in that small town in northeastern 
			Lithuania. Who, what, where, when, how and why were the questions 
			that nagged at me, never left me. In the ensuing years there were 
			more advertisements in Russian, Yiddish and English language 
			newspapers in Israel and in the United States. I began to receive 
			some responses from Kupishok survivors. One came in the form of 
			three pencil-written lines from a man in Brooklyn—a Rabbi who had 
			been born in Kupishok—indicating that he had written a book in 
			Yiddish, in 1951, about the destruction of the Jewish community in 
			Lithuania and Kupishok. (I later found the book and the mention of 
			Kupishok.) Another response came from a man whom I realized to be a 
			cousin—eighty year old Yitzhak Polin, the son of my grandfather’s 
			brother, a survivor not only of Kupishok but also of Dachau. In May 
			of 1979 my wife and I travelled to Israel, and during a week in the 
			Tel Aviv and Haifa areas we interviewed some of the survivors and 
			recorded their stories. 
			
			On 
			the morning after our arrival in Tel Aviv, Yitzhak Polin came to our 
			hotel and for the first time I met the cousin of whose existence I 
			had only recently become aware. He walked feebly with a cane, and 
			was accompanied by a younger woman, Yocheved Elisar. Our meeting was 
			emotional; we kissed and held hands. Perhaps I was with my father 
			again. This man knew my grandfather, his uncle, and my 
			great-grandfather, his grandfather. He remembered my father only 
			vaguely, but when I showed him a picture he recognized my mother, 
			“Baila Gitke, the prettiest and most vivacious girl in Kupishok”. 
			Until this moment he had believed that he was the only Polin left. 
			He had had no children; his brothers, sisters, uncles—all dead. He 
			had escaped from Kupishok, was captured and taken to the Kovno 
			ghetto, later to Dachau. It was in the ghetto that he met Yocheved 
			who later also survived a concentration camp, came to Israel in 
			1946, married Tzvi Elisar and raised two sons. After some years 
			Yocheved learned that Yitzhak had survived and was living in Vilna; 
			it was through her efforts that he was able to come to Israel in 
			1963.  
			
			He 
			lives in his own apartment in Herzliya. Yocheved looks after him 
			much as a daughter would, makes certain that he eats regularly and 
			is in comfort. We were together, the three of us—Yitzhak, Yocheved 
			and I—a family. A Jewish family, closely a part of the extended 
			Jewish family in the old sense, but happening in 1979. 
			
			
			Later that week Israel and Ethel Trapido invited us to their home in 
			Givatayim for an evening to meet with a few of the survivors of 
			Kupishok. Israel was born in Kupishok, emigrated first to South 
			Africa and then to Israel where he is an accountant. His family 
			settled in Kupishok in 1816. The survivors gathered there in the 
			Trapido home came, I believe, not so much to tell their stories as 
			to meet this strange American Jew who had such as abiding interest 
			in their beloved Kupishok and wanted to write a book about it. 
			(Indeed, it was at this point that this narrative became a book 
			instead of the letter originally intended to my two sons.) Why, they 
			asked not sarcastically, are you interested in Kupishok and the 
			events there? Why is an American Jew interested when their own 
			children are not? I couldn’t tell why their children didn’t want to 
			hear the story. I told them: ikh bihn a yid, ikh bihn oykh fuhn 
			Kupishok. 
			
			I 
			am a slow thinker. I knew the answer I gave them was not enough, but 
			I didn’t know what the correct answer was. I am not sure even that 
			there is a correct answer—or any answer at all. Elie Wiesel writes, 
			“Answers: I say there are none.” How then can I explain to them now? 
			I needed to know the story and to tell it to someone. It started 
			with the Tuber brothers who carried 
			
			my 
			bloodline. They were, the four dead ones: Yechiel, twenty-one, a 
			recently ordained rabbi; Laibel, nineteen, and Pesakh, fifteen, 
			tinsmiths like their father; and Berel, seventeen, a tailor. What 
			happened in Kupishok in the summer of 1941, who were killed, who 
			killed and how? Why? 
			
			
			There needs to be a memorial to the Jews of Kupishok. Not because 
			they or the events there were so unusual. Precisely the 
			opposite—because it was so ordinary during that time of death in the 
			heart of Europe’s Christendom. An American Jew, I and the rest of us 
			failed to take to the streets to protest, to demonstrate, to march, 
			to cry out to our President and to the leaders of the Allies of 
			Silence that our people were being murdered. They knew it. If such a 
			thing happened today, would we be silent again? Would they again 
			offer no hope, no haven? There needs to be a memorial to the Jews of 
			Kupishok because in 1967 when the Jews of Kiryat Yam, Bat Yam, 
			Holon, Givatayim were openly threatened with annihilation, the world 
			again stood by. Among those threatened Jews were the survivors of 
			Kupishok that I met that May evening in the Trapido home. Left to 
			themselves, they were to join the dead of Kupishok. And I, an 
			American Jew of common ancestry with the Tuber brothers, would be 
			left alive to write about another Jewish holocaust. 
			
			
			Here, look. The truth: Hitler did not order the annihilation of the 
			Jews immediately, without the realization that the world had given 
			its permission. Even Hitler hesitated before the “final solution”; 
			even he had to be convinced that there was no other choice. The 
			Germans developed their anti-Jewish policy step by step, gradually, 
			stopping after each measure to watch the reactions. There was always 
			a respite between the different stages, between the Nuremberg laws 
			and the Kristallnacht, between expropriation and deportation, 
			between the ghettos and liquidation. After each infamy the Germans 
			expected a storm of outrage; they were allowed to proceed. So they 
			knew what that meant: we can go on. From 1938 to 1940 Hitler made 
			extraordinary attempts to being about a vast emigration scheme. The 
			world was divided between those countries who had room for Jews and 
			would not take them, and Palestine which had room for Jews and was 
			not permitted to take them. The Germans’ biggest expulsion project, 
			the Madagascar plan, was under consideration just one year before 
			the beginning of the killing phase. The Jews were not killed before 
			the emigration policy was literally exhausted. And having started 
			the killing, the Germans could never have succeeded in solving the 
			Jewish Question with such speed and efficiency if it had not been 
			for the help and tacit consent of the Ukrainians, Lithuanians, 
			Slovaks, Poles, Hungarians. It was not by accident that the worst 
			concentration camps were set up in Poland. Shmuel, a Tel Aviv cab 
			driver, and I became friends. He had been a partisan. He told me 
			that there were Poles who sold Jews to the Germans for two kilos of 
			sugar a head.  
			
			
			Historically, the Jewish tendency has been not to run from, but to 
			survive with, anti-Jewish regimes. Jews have rarely run from a 
			pogrom; they have lived through it. It is a fact that the Jews made 
			an attempt to live with Hitler. In many cases they failed to escape 
			while there was still time, and even more often they failed to step 
			out of the way when the killers were already upon them. The Jewish 
			reactions to force have been alleviation and compliance. It should 
			be noted that the term “Jewish reactions” refers only to ghetto 
			Jews. This reaction pattern was born in the ghetto and it died 
			there. It is part and parcel of ghetto life. It applies to all 
			ghetto Jews, assimilationists and Zionists, the capitalists and the 
			socialists, the unorthodox and the religious ones. The Jewish 
			reaction pattern assured the survival of Jewry during the Church’s 
			massive conversion drive. The Jewish policy assured to the embattled 
			community a foothold and a chance for survival during the period of 
			expulsion and exclusion. If, therefore, the Jews have always played 
			along with an attacker, they have done so with deliberation and 
			calculation, in the knowledge that their policy would result in the 
			least damage and injury. 
			
			
			When the Nazis took over in Germany in 1933, the old Jewish reaction 
			pattern set in again, but this time the results were catastrophic. 
			The German bureaucracy was not impressed with Jewish pleading; it 
			was not stopped by Jewish indispensability. Without regard to cost, 
			the bureaucratic machine, operating with accelerating speed and 
			ever-widening destructive effect, proceeded to annihilate the 
			European Jews. The Jewish community, unable to switch to resistance, 
			increased its cooperation with the tempo of the German measures, 
			thus hastening its own destruction. 
			
			It 
			is seen, therefore, that both perpetrators and victims drew upon 
			their ancient experience in dealing with each other. The Germans did 
			it with success. The Jews did it with disaster. 
			
			
			Elie Wiesel says that during the holocaust the traditional 
			solidarity of the Jews broke into fragments. When Jews were 
			persecuted in Germany, Jews in Poland thought: they don’t mean us. 
			When Jews were massacred in Poland, Jews in France thought: they 
			don’t mean us. When Jews were deported from France and Belgium and 
			Greece and Hungary, Jews in America and Palestine thought: they 
			can’t mean us. Perhaps for the first time in recorded history, 
			Wiesel says, we missed the real intent of the enemy; he meant all of 
			us.  
			
			
			Those Kupishok survivors know all this, and they must have guessed 
			the answer to their own question. This American Jew is one of Elie 
			Wiesel’s madmen; he wants to create a memorial to an ordinary event. 
			
			
			After the war the few Kupishok survivors drifted back and settled in 
			Vilna, the traditional capital of Lithuania and now part of Poland. 
			From there, through their own monetary and political efforts, they 
			caused to be erected in Kupishok at one of the mass grave-sites a 
			monument to the murdered Jews of Kupishok. The monument does not 
			bear the word “Jew”, not does it bear the names of the murdered. 
			Only a vague reference to the victims of Hitlerish aggression. 
			
			The 
			story contained in this small volume is not unique; it was repeated 
			hundreds, thousands of times in the shtetls, villages and towns of 
			the Jewish settlement of Eastern Europe. The monument in Kupishok 
			bears no names. In this book are only a few of the names of the 
			Jewish men, women and children murdered in Kupishok. The names will 
			never be known of those who died along with their relatives and 
			friends with no one left to remember them. Socialists or 
			capitalists, Zionists or non-Zionists, religious or irreligious, mad 
			or sane, good or bad, all those who remained in Kupishok in June 
			1941 died together. This book is a memorial to them, named and 
			unnamed. These few pages of paper are all they have, all that is 
			left. 
			
			  
			
			
			Arizona, U.S.A., August, 1980 
			
			 
 
			  
			
			
			KUPISHOK 
			
			
			Kupishok (in Lithuanian, Kupiskis) is an old town in northeastern 
			Lithuania, situated between the Levuo River and its left tributary, 
			the Kupa, which curves from the east to the south of town. About two 
			kilometers south of Kupishok is a station on the railway which runs 
			from the city of Ponevezh (Panevezys) northeast to the border with 
			Latvia, about 70 kilometers from Kupishok, and then east across the 
			Russian border. Still farther south somewhat, beyond the railway 
			line, is the Shepata peat bogs. Surrounding the town is thick forest 
			and farm lands, interspersed with tiny church-villages and 
			farm-villages. 
			
			
			Historical sources mention Kupishok from 1510 onwards; Jewish 
			settlement began more than 300 years ago, evidenced by grave markers 
			in the Jewish cemeteries dated in the seventeenth century. The first 
			member of the Trapido family came to Kupishok from Holland in 1816, 
			and the Polin family was already there. In the eighteenth century 
			the town and the surrounding area belonged to the Tyzenhaus (Tiesenhausen) 
			family of magnates and later to the Prince Czartoryski. In 1817 its 
			population was 3,742 of which 2,661 were Jews. During World War I, 
			in May 1915, most of the Jews left Kupishok to become war refugees, 
			and only part of them returned there after the war. During the 
			ensuing years many of the Jewish youth emigrated to South Africa and 
			to Eretz Israel. 
			
			
			Nevertheless, by 1941 about 3,500—perhaps 4,000—people lived in 
			Kupishok including 400 families of Jews who lived mainly in the 
			center of the town and approximately an equal number of Christians 
			who lived in the area surrounding the core. Relations between the 
			two groups had always been peaceful; there is no historical record 
			of a pogrom there until June-July 1941. 
			
			
			Kupishok was one of the few towns in Lithuania with a considerable 
			community of Hasidim. There were two officiating rabbis in 1941, the 
			Hasid, Rabbi Israel Noah Khatzkevitz, and the Mitnagid, Rabbi Zalman 
			Pertzovsky. The community had three synagogues, a yeshiva, a talmud 
			torah, and three schools (Yavneh, Tarbut and a Yiddish school). Many 
			of the Jewish children attended the secular Lithuanian high school 
			(the gymnasia) and the public school for lower grades. 
			
			In 
			the center of Kupishok was the Turgahs, the Market Place, and from 
			it radiated the main streets. The street north was Tifle Gahs 
			(Church Street) on which stood the Church of the Assumption of the 
			Blessed Virgin Mary, built by King Sigismund Vasa. South from the 
			Market Place ran Bahn Gahs (Train Street), also called officially 
			Gediminas Street after the fourteenth century King of Lithuania. A 
			small bridge carried the Bahn Gahs over the Kupa and to the train 
			station. On this street was the city hall and the town jail, very 
			near to the Kupa before the bridge, the houses of the Polin, Shavel 
			and Sneierson families. The Sneierson house, at number 49 Gedeminas, 
			was across the street from the city hall. Nearby was a small hotel 
			or inn, the Viesbutis. On the east side of town, on the other side 
			of the Kupa not far from the Hasidic cemetery, was a small barracks 
			(kazarmis) and firehouse. Adjoining the Market Place at the 
			northwest was the area of the synagogues next to which was a small 
			street, Pozarna Gahs which ran the short distance from Matuliones 
			Gahs to Vilna Gahs. Pozarna Gahs become the temporary ghetto for a 
			few weeks in the summer of 1941. 
			
			At 
			5:30 on the morning of Sunday, June 22, 1941, Reichsminister Josef 
			Goebbels announced on German radio the Wehrmacht attack against the 
			U.S.S.R. across the borders of the buffer states. The line of 
			invasion extended from the Baltic Sea in the north to the Black Sea 
			in the south, the area in which was the main concentration of the 
			Jewish population of Europe. Later that morning the Lithuanian 
			revolt against the Russians began in Kovno and on Monday, in Berlin, 
			fifty enthusiastic Lithuanians raised the flag of their country. 
			
			
			From East Prussia the Fourth Panzer Group (Commander Hoppner) of the 
			Northern Army Group under General von Leeb thrust toward Kovno and 
			Shavli in Lithuania; by Tuesday, June 24, the Lithuanians were in 
			full revolt and the independence of Lithuania was proclaimed. On the 
			same day Kovno and Shavli were taken, and the Nazis were on the road 
			north to Riga in Latvia. On the twenty-fifth fighting was reported 
			between Lithuanian insurgents and Russians in Vilna. By Friday, the 
			twenty-seventh, the German main forces had driven north of Kovno and 
			around to Vilna in the east. On July 2 Riga was captured, fighting 
			was taking place east of Minsk—Vilna far in the rear—and by Friday, 
			July 4 the Germans were engaged in mopping-up operations in all 
			three Baltic states. 
			
			On 
			June 23, 1941, Einsatzgruppe A joined the German forces on the 
			northern front. Wednesday, June 25, Einsatzkommando 3 of 
			Einsatzgruppe A reached Kovno which had been captured the previous 
			day, and elements of Ek 3 were already beyond the city and 
			approaching Kupishok. 
			
			
			Some families, perhaps eighty, fled Kupishok upon the approach of 
			the Germans, some to neighboring small villages to seek shelter with 
			Christian peasants as had been done during the First World War. 
			Others continued in their flight, hoping to reach the Russian 
			border. Most of the Jews remained in Kupishok where they were 
			subjected to persecution by their Lithuanian neighbors as soon as 
			the Germans entered the town. Later all the Jews who had sought 
			shelter in out-lying farms together with those Jews who lived in 
			small villages surrounding Kupishok were brought into the town to 
			join the Jewish population in the temporary ghetto set up in Pozarna 
			Gahs—a short street—and in the adjoining synagogue yards. All this 
			area was surrounded by barbed wire. 
			
			The 
			two rabbis, Zalman Pertsovski and Israel Noah Khatskevits were taken 
			into the Hasidic synagogue where they were burned to death and then 
			buried in a cemetery for “unbelieving” Christians. The wife of Rabbi 
			Pertsovski, Chaya Leah Pertsovski, with her children found refuge 
			for a time in the old Doctor Frantskevitch’s house. Six weeks later 
			they were all betrayed and killed. Nahum Shmid, the richest and most 
			philanthropic Jew in town, hid out for two months in a nearby 
			village, Shmilg, until his money was used up. He was then betrayed 
			also, brought to the municipal jail and shot. 
			
			By 
			September, 1941, about 3,000 Jews were murdered in Kupishok. So far 
			as is known, no Jew who remained in Kupishok after Wednesday, June 
			25, 1941 survived. Perhaps 200 people, from 47 families, survived 
			and were from the small group who fled Kupishok before the Germans 
			arrived. Some of those who fled initially could find no refuge and 
			returned to Kupishok to die; a few others were captured and taken to 
			other ghettos as was Yitzhak Polin who survived the Kovno ghetto and 
			Dachau concentration camp. In 1979 he was living in Israel. 
			
			 
 
			  
			
			
			  
  
			  
			
			  
			
			  
			  
			
			
			  
  
			
			  
			
			Yechiel Tuber as a 
			student in the Yeshiva Bet-Rubenstein, Ponevezh, Lithuania. Rabbi 
			Tuber was killed shortly after his ordination, age 21. 
			
			 
 
			  
			
			  
			
			A THOUSAND SHRIEKING 
			HORSEMEN 
			
			  
			
			
			When the German Wehrmacht attacked the U.S.S.R., penetrating first 
			the buffer states on June 22, 1941, the invading armies were 
			accompanied closely by small mechanized killing units of the SS (Schutzstaffeln, 
			“Protection Squad”) and police which were technically and tactically 
			subordinated to the army field commanders but who were really free 
			to go about their special business of killing. These mobile killing 
			units operated in the front-line areas under a special arrangement 
			in a unique partnership with the German Army, and were called 
			Einsatzgruppen (special-duty groups). 
			
			
			Earlier, Adolf Eichmann had become concerned with the problem of the 
			annihilation of Jews who lived in remote territories. The “solution 
			of the Jewish question” was his responsibility. The foremost problem 
			was that of geography, and Eichmann had already experienced 
			difficulties in this connection. Transporting men, women and 
			children in railroad trains and trucks require an extensive and 
			complicated personnel system of guards, engineers, firemen, 
			interpreters, and so on. Railroad trains were needed to move troops; 
			trucks were required to haul food, ammunition and all the materials 
			of war. Something had to be done to avoid the necessity of shipping 
			Jews from distant Lithuania, Estonia, Romania, the Ukraine and the 
			Crimea to the concentration camps in Germany, Austria and Poland. 
			
			
			Eichmann pondered and finally arrived at what he considered to be a 
			satisfactory solution. For those populations that could not be taken 
			to the executioners, the executioners would go to the populations. 
			Indeed it would be a waste of locomotive power and gasoline to 
			transport people long distances just to kill them. Besides, there 
			would be the expense and trouble of feeding them, sheltering them, 
			and guarding them from escape before the mass executions. It was 
			decided to kill them where they were to be found. No long waits, no 
			costly maintenance of prison camps with barbed wire, guard towers, 
			blood-hounds and electricity-charged fences. All that was to come 
			later, when the human numbers became too great and shooting became 
			too inefficient. 
			
			
			Eichmann conferred with Himmler and Himmler conferred with Hitler. 
			Eichmann’s recommendations were accepted and the Einsatzgruppen 
			organization was born. Thus, in early 1941, Himmler, Heydrich and 
			Eichmann were directed to recruit mobile bands of executioners which 
			were to accompany and follow the German armies as they overran the 
			Eastern territories, killing all Jews there as soon as any region or 
			community was cleared of enemy opposition. Himmler removed all doubt 
			as to the object of the Einsatzgruppen: “It is not our task to 
			Germanize the East in the old sense, that is, to teach the people 
			there the German language and the German law, but to see to it that 
			only people of purely Germanic blood live in the East.” 
			
			The 
			Einsatzgruppen training program began in May, 1941, with three 
			thousand men. The assembly points for the Einsatzgruppen personnel 
			and the four weeks of training were the Border Police School 
			Barracks in Pretzsch, Saxony and the neighboring villages of Dueben 
			and Schmiedeberg. The organizational strengths were: an 
			Einsatzgruppe equal to a battalion, an Einsatzkommando or 
			Sonderkommando equal to a company, and Teilkommando equal to a 
			platoon in strength of numbers. 
			
			
			There were four Einsatzgruppen organized to work eastern Europe. 
			Einsatzgruppe A operated in the three Baltic states of Lithuania, 
			Latvia and Estonia and in northern Russia eastward to Leningrad. Eg 
			A was commanded by SS-General Walter Stahlecker and later by Heinz 
			Jost who had specialized in law and economics at the Universities of 
			Giessen and Munich. Stahlecker was killed in the war; Jost was later 
			tried at Nuremberg and sentenced first to life imprisonment which 
			sentence was later reduced to ten years. (At his trial he testified 
			that he did not remember ordering any Jews to be shot.) Eg B 
			operated south of the area of Eg A, and eastward to Moscow, 
			commanded by Arthur Nebe. Eg C worked in most of the Ukraine and was 
			commanded by Otto Rasch, a Doctor of Law and Economics. He was held 
			for trial at Nuremberg but was separated from the rest of the 
			defendants because of an illness from which he died in 1948. Eg D 
			ranged in the territories of the southern Ekraine, the Crimea and 
			the Caucasus. Its commander was SS-Major General Otto Ohlendorf, a 
			graduate in law and political science from the Universities of 
			Liepzig and Goettingen, and a one-time practicing barrister in the 
			courts of Alfeld-Leine and Hildesheim; tried at Nuremberg, he was 
			sentenced to death and hanged. 
			
			As 
			the operations progressed, each sub-Kommando leader reported to his 
			Kommando leader the results of the day’s actions at the end of each 
			day, and then the totals were transmitted to the Eichmann Gestapo 
			headquarters for distribution of the Nazi hierarchy. The original 
			Einsatzgruppen reports were found in Eichmann’s headquarters after 
			the war and were translated for the Nuremberg trials. 
			
			The 
			Einsatzgruppen were to be permitted to operate not only in army rear 
			areas but also in the corps areas right on the front line. This was 
			of great importance to the Einsatzgruppen, for the Jews were to be 
			caught as quickly as possible. They were to be given no warning and 
			no chance to escape. The operational units of the Einsatzgruppen 
			were the Einsatzkommandos (“striking force”). 
			
			
			Pogroms are short, violent outbursts by a community against its 
			Jewish population. In its tactics the Einsatzgruppen endeavored to 
			start pogroms in the occupied areas (and not infrequently such 
			orders were anticipated by the local populations). The reasons which 
			prompted the killing units to activate anti-Jewish outbursts were 
			partly administrative, partly psychological. The administrative 
			principle was very simple: every Jew killed in a pogrom was one less 
			burden for the Einsatzgruppen. A pogrom brought them, as they 
			expressed it, that much closer to the “cleanup goal” (Sauberungsziel). 
			
			The 
			commander of Eg A, Stahlecker, in one of his reports complained that 
			the Jews “live widely scattered over the whole country. In view of 
			the enormous distances, the bad conditions of the roads, the 
			shortages of vehicles and petrol, and the small forces of Security 
			Police and SC, it needs the utmost effort in order to carry out 
			shootings.” 
			
			The 
			psychological consideration was more interesting. The Einsatzgruppen 
			wanted the population to take a part—major part—of the 
			responsibility for the killing operation. “It was not less 
			important, for future purposes,” wrote Brigadefuhrer Dr. Stahlecker, 
			“to establish as an unquestionable fact that the liberated 
			population had resorted to the most severe measures against the 
			Bolshevist and Jewish enemy, on its own initiative and without 
			instructions from German authorities.” So the pogroms were to become 
			a defensive weapon with which to confront an accuser, or an element 
			of blackmail that could be used against the local population. 
			
			As 
			soon as war had broken out, anti-Communist fighting groups of 
			Lithuanians had gone into action against the Soviet rear guard. In 
			Kovno, the newly arrived Security Police approached the chief of the 
			Lithuanian insurgents, the journalist Klimaitis, and persuaded him 
			to turn his forces on the Jews. This he did with considerable 
			enthusiasm and after several days of intensive pogroms Klimaitis had 
			accounted for 5,000 dead: 3,800 in Kovno, 1,200 in other towns. 
			
			For 
			the killing units the Lithuanian anti-Soviet “partisans” who had 
			been engaged in the pogroms became the first manpower reservoir. 
			Before disarming and disbanding the partisans, Einsatzgruppe A 
			picked our “reliable” men and organized them into five police 
			companies. The men were put to work immediately in Kovno. In 
			September a Lithuanian group attached to Einsatzkommando 3 swept 
			through the districts of Rasseyn (Raseinyai), Rakishok (Rokiskis), 
			Sarasi, Perzai, and Pren (Prienal), killing all Jews found in this 
			area. The total number of victims accounted for by Einsatzkommando 3 
			with Lithuanian help was 46,692 in less than three months; that is, 
			from late June to September, 1941. By the end of October, 1941, 
			80,311 Jews had been killed under the direction of Einsatzgruppe A, 
			and by December another 56,110 souls had been added to the count. 
			
			
			From the report of Brigadefuhrer Stahlecker covering the activities 
			of his Einsatzgruppe A from the beginning of the war against Russia 
			until October 15, 1941: 
			
			
			“…Partisan groups formed in Lithuania and established immediate 
			contact with the German troops taking over the city (Kovno). 
			Unreliable elements among the partisans were weeded out, and an 
			auxiliary unit of 300 men was formed under the command of Klimaitis, 
			a Lithuanian journalist.  As the pacification program progressed, 
			this partisan group extended its activities from Kovno to other 
			parts of Lithuania. The group very meticulously fulfilled its tasks, 
			especially in the preparation and carrying out of large-scale 
			liquidations.” 
			
			
			“…Pogroms, however, could not provide a complete solution to the 
			Jewish problem in Ostland. Large-scale executions have therefore 
			been carried out all over the country, in which the local auxiliary 
			police was also used; they cooperated without a hitch…” 
			
			At 
			the climax of the mass shootings of Jews there were eight 
			Lithuanians to every German in Stahlecker’s firing squads. 
			
			
			Since the Jews were not prepared to do battle with the Germans and 
			their assistants, one might ask why they did not flee for their 
			lives. Some Jews were evacuated by the Russian authorities, and many 
			fled on their own, but this should not obscure a phenomenon: most 
			Jews did not leave. They stayed. People do not voluntarily leave 
			their homes for uncertain havens unless they are driven by an acute 
			awareness of coming disaster. In the Jewish community that awareness 
			was blunted and blocked by psychological obstacles. 
			
			
			First was the prevailing conviction that bad things came from Russia 
			and good things from Germany. The Jews were historically oriented 
			away from Russia and toward Germany; Germany, not Russia, had been 
			their traditional place of refuge. During October and November of 
			1939 thousands of Jews streamed from Russian occupied Poland to the 
			German sector and the flow was not stopped until the Germans closed 
			the border. Similarly, one year later, at the time of Soviet mass 
			deportation in the newly occupied territories, the Germans received 
			reports of widespread unrest among Ukrainians, Poles and Jews alike. 
			Almost everyone was waiting for the arrival of the German Army. When 
			that Army finally arrived, in the summer of 1941, old Jews in 
			particular remembered that in the First World War the Germans had 
			come as quasi-liberators. These Jews did not expect that now the 
			Germans would come as killers. 
			
			
			Another factor which blunted Jewish alertness was the haze with 
			which the Soviet press and radio had shrouded events across the 
			border. The Jews of Russia were ignorant of the fate that had 
			overtaken the Jews in Nazi Europe. Soviet information media, in 
			pursuance of a policy of appeasement, had made it their business to 
			keep silent about Nazi measures of destruction. The consequences of 
			that silence were disastrous. 
			
			
			From a German intelligence report of July 12, 1941—Report of 
			Sonderfuhrer Schroter enclosed in Reichskommissar Ostland to 
			Generalkommissar White Russia, August 4, 1941: “The Jews are 
			remarkably ill-informed about our attitude toward them. They do not 
			know how Jews are treated in Germany, or for that matter in Warsaw, 
			which after all is not so far away. Otherwise, their questions as to 
			whether we in Germany make any distinctions between Jews and other 
			citizens would be superfluous. Even if they do not think that under 
			German administration they will have equal rights with the Russians, 
			they believe, nevertheless, that we shall leave them in peace if 
			they mind their own business and work diligently.” 
			
			But 
			also the extreme closeness of living family ties among eastern 
			European Jews condemned many to their death. To take flight meant 
			abandoning parents, children, and wives, living like a hunted animal 
			in the forest with no hiding place anywhere and haunted always by 
			the guilt of flight. Those who did escape from the edge of the 
			killing pits were often denounced by anti-Semitic partisan units. 
			Many were driven to return to the old ghetto or seek out a new one 
			when life in the wilderness became unbearable; either meant certain 
			death. 
			
			
			Therefore, a large number of Jews stayed behind not merely because 
			of the physical difficulties of flight but also, perhaps primarily, 
			because they had failed to grasp the danger of remaining. That means 
			that precisely those Jews who did not flee were less aware of the 
			disaster and less capable of dealing with it than those who did. The 
			Jews who fell into German captivity were the old people, the women, 
			the children and the naïve. They were those who were physically and 
			psychologically immobilized. The mobile killing units soon grasped 
			the Jewish weakness; they discovered quickly that one of their 
			greatest problems, the seizure of the victims, had an easy solution. 
			
			
			Those Jews who did flee, who had taken to the roads, the villages, 
			and the field had great difficulty in subsisting there because the 
			German Army was picking up stray Jews and the population refused to 
			shelter them.  The Einsatzgruppen took advantage of this situation 
			by instituting the simplest ruse of all: they did nothing. The 
			inactivity of the Security Police was sufficient to dispel the 
			rumors which had set the exodus in motion. Within a short time the 
			Jews flocked into town. They were caught in the dragnet and killed. 
			
			The 
			Germans and their auxiliaries were able to work quickly and 
			efficiently because the killing operation was standardized. In 
			almost every city and town the same procedure was followed, with 
			minor variations. The site of the shooting was usually outside of 
			town, at a grave which may have been specially dug or were deepened 
			anti-tank ditches or shell craters. The Jews were taken in batches, 
			men first, from the collecting point to the ditch; the killing site 
			was supposed to be closed off to all outsiders. Before their death, 
			the victims handed their valuables to the leader of the killing 
			party. In the winter they removed their overcoats; in warmer weather 
			they had to take off all outer garments, sometimes underwear as 
			well. 
			
			
			Some Einsatzkommandos lined up the victims in front of the ditch and 
			shot them with submachine guns or other small arms in the back of 
			the neck. The mortally wounded Jews toppled into their graves. There 
			was another procedure which combined efficiency with an impersonal 
			element. This system has been referred to as the “sardine method”. 
			This way the first batch had to lie down on the bottom of the grave. 
			They were killed by cross-fire from above. The next batch had to lie 
			down on top of the corpses, heads facing the feet of the dead. After 
			five or six layers, the grave was closed. 
			
			The 
			leaders of the mobile killing units even as they directed the 
			shootings, began to justify their actions and to repress the 
			language of their reports avoiding such expressions as “kill” or 
			“murder”. The terminology which they used was designed to convey the 
			notion that the killing operations were only an ordinary 
			bureaucratic process within the framework of police activity. 
			Various euphemisms were invented to express their activities: 
			disposed of, liquidated, area freed of Jews, processed, special 
			treatment, taken care of, area purged of Jews, the Jewish question 
			solved, finished off, treatment in a special way, treated 
			accordingly, actions, resettlement, cleansing, elimination, 
			executive measure. 
			
			The 
			commanders of the Einsatzgruppen constructed various justifications 
			for the killings. The significance of these rationalizations is 
			apparent since the Einsatzgruppen did not have to give any reasons 
			to Heydrich, their overall commander; they had to give reasons only 
			to themselves. Generally speaking, the reports contained one 
			pervasive justification for the killings: the Jewish danger. This 
			fiction was used again and again, in many variations. In the area of 
			Einsatzgruppe A (Lithuania) Jewish propaganda was the justification. 
			“Since this Jewish propaganda activity was especially heavy in 
			Lithuania,” reads a report, “the number of persons liquidated in 
			this area by Einsatzkommando 3 has risen to 75,000.” 
			
			
			There was a rationalization which was focused on the Jew: the 
			conception of the Jew as a lower form of life. Generalgouverneur (of 
			the occupied territories) Hans Frank was given to the use of such 
			phrases as “Jews and lice”. In the terminology of the killing 
			operations the conception of Jews as vermin is quite noticeable. Dr. 
			Stahlecker, the commander of Einsatzgruppe A, called the pogroms 
			conducted by the Lithuanians “self-cleansing actions” (Selbstreiningungsaktionen). 
			
			It 
			should not be supposed that the Einsatzgruppen leaders were 
			uneducated, course barbarians. Among the twenty-three such 
			defendants at Nuremberg were men who were graduates or educationally 
			specialized in law, economics, history, banking and dentistry. Among 
			their civilian professions: University professors, architect, 
			clergyman, union administrator, voice teacher and opera singer, 
			importer and linguist, civil service administrator, business man and 
			civil servant. Only one had been a police officer, another an 
			intelligence officer. 
			
			Nor 
			were these killers forced to remain in the gruesome business they 
			had chosen. Kommando leaders who demonstrated themselves incapable 
			of performing cold-blooded slaughter were assigned to other duties, 
			not out of sympathy or for humanitarian reasons, but for 
			efficiency’s sake alone. During the Nuremberg trials, SS-Major 
			General Otto Ohlendorf, Chief of Einsatzgruppe D, declared that he 
			forbade the participations in executions of men who did not “agree 
			to the Fuhrer-Order”, and sent them back to Germany. Another 
			witness, Albert Hartel, of the German Security Police in Kiev, 
			testified that SS-General Eugen Thomas, commanding Einsatzgruppe C 
			at the time, “passed on an order that all those people who could not 
			reconcile with their conscience to carry out such orders, that is, 
			people who were too soft, as he said, to carry out these orders, 
			should be sent back to Germany or should be assigned to other tasks. 
			Thus at the time a number of people, also commanders, were sent back 
			by Thomas to the Reich just because they were too soft to carry out 
			the orders.” There is no record of severe punishment befalling such 
			individuals nor, indeed, of any punishment at all. 
			
			In 
			fulfilling Hitler’s program every Nazi official saw for himself a 
			higher rank, a gaudier uniform, an easier and more lucrative post. 
			Vanity, arrogance, and greed were the vehicles in which the Nazi 
			leaders traveled the highway of criminality and inhumanity. The 
			Einsatzgruppe officers had an additional reason for preferring their 
			assignments: it saved them from hazardous combat services. No one 
			shot back. In the front lines one faced an armed and aggressive 
			opponent; in a foxhole one could expect any moment a fragmentizing 
			artillery shell. But on the Einsatzgruppe field of combat there were 
			no foxholes. There were only long ditches in front of which one’s 
			adversaries helplessly stood to await the fire which they could not 
			return. 
			
			
			These were the “technically competent barbarians”, as Dr. Franklin 
			H. Littell calls them, available to the highest bidder. Dr. Littell 
			writes, “The common mistake is to suppose this is solely a result of 
			his avarice or unbridled ambition; it is aided and abetted by a 
			system of education that has trained him to think in ways that 
			eliminate questions of ultimate responsibility. Having eliminated 
			God as an hypothesis, he exercises godlike powers with pride rather 
			than with fear and trembling … The worst set of crimes in the 
			history of mankind was engineered by Ph.D.’s and committed by 
			baptized Christians.” 
			
			As 
			the Einsatzgruppen trial at Nuremberg in 1947 twenty-three 
			defendants were charged with one million murders. One was released, 
			another separated from the trial of the others because of poor 
			health. Of the remaining twenty-one, fourteen were sentenced to 
			death, two to life imprisonment and the other five to lesser prison 
			terms. Upon later review, two of those sentenced to prison were 
			released on time already served and the other five were given new 
			terms reduced in years. Of the fourteen sentenced to death, nine 
			sentences were commuted. Five were hanged.  
			
			WHO 
			ARE THEY? 
			
			I 
			have indicated the involvement of the parts of the Lithuanian 
			general population in the killing of Jews, my sources taken from 
			books written on the activities of the Einsatzgruppen, the killing 
			units, and the destruction of East European Jewry. As will be seen 
			this activity is corroborated in the testimonies of survivors of 
			Kupishok and of other towns in Lithuania. As would be expected, the 
			Lithuanian community in the United States presents a somewhat 
			different picture to make the claim that the Lithuanian people in 
			toto are not guilty of genocide. To that end a pamphlet has been 
			published (1977) by the Lithuanian American Community, Inc. of the 
			United States entitled “Towards An Understanding of 
			Lithuanian-Jewish Relations” which consists of an introduction by 
			The National Executive Committee and a reprint of the article Jews 
			in Lithuania which appears in the second volume of Encyclopedia 
			Lituanica (pp. 522-530). Excerpts from this pamphlet follow. 
			
			
			Introduction 
			
			“… 
			The Lithuanian people do not claim exemption from this loathsome 
			sociological phenomenon (i.e., genocide against European Jewry—SM). 
			Yes, several score Lithuanians participated in the machine-gunning 
			of Jews in Lithuania and Belorussia.” 
			
			“… 
			At this juncture the Lithuanian American Community of the United 
			States wishes to point out one salient argument: anti-Semitism of a 
			virulent brand is not endemic to the Lithuanian people. While it is 
			historically accurate that, following the collapse of the first 
			Soviet occupation of Lithuania (1940-1941) a number of individual 
			acts of reprisal were committed against Lithuanian and Russian 
			Communists, Jews and gentiles, nonetheless the Lithuanians did not 
			engage in wholesale atrocities against the Jewish population. The 
			Nazi records captured by the Allies point out that the person and 
			property of local Jews and Poles became the exclusive concern of the 
			German occupation authorities. Local Lithuanian civil authorities 
			had no say in the treatment of Jews, Russians, and Poles.” 
			
			  
			
			
			Jews in Lithuania 
			
			“… 
			Jews … were disproportionately strong in the most profitable 
			occupations. The Jews owned 77 percent (over ten times their quota) 
			of the country’s commerce, 22 percent of its industry, and 18 
			percent of its communications and transportation lines.” (The writer 
			refers to the period between the two World Wars—SM). “From 35 
			percent to 43 percent of the country’s physicians and over 50 
			percent of its lawyers were Jews. Located in the urban centers, 
			Jewish businesses dominated the face of the country’s cities and 
			towns. Excited by their newly gained status, they rendered it even 
			more conspicuous by making their business signs and door plates in 
			Yiddish, along with an occasionally quite ungrammatical Lithuanian 
			translation. Most Jewish businessmen chose to keep their 
			establishments closed on Saturdays and open on Sundays. Quite a few 
			Jewish enterprises felt entitled to use Yiddish in their 
			bookkeeping, which made the books inauditable by most tax 
			inspectors.” 
			
			
			“The Lithuanians, those of the young generation particularly, were 
			excited by the regained independence of their country, and they were 
			impatient to see their country acquire an appearance like that of 
			the long-established European states. Instead they found the most 
			visible parts of the country’s face looking ‘like a kind of Judea’, 
			and some of them became irritated. Their resentment burst into a 
			campaign of ‘cleaning the face of the country’ by smearing Yiddish 
			language signs and placards with tar. Local authorities claimed that 
			they were unable to protect all the signs from this patriotically 
			inspired vandalism, and ordered (in July 1924) replacement of the 
			bilingual signs with ones drawn in Lithuanian only … The Sunday Rest 
			Law (1924) was prompted by the same consideration.” 
			 
			
			“… 
			The Tragic End. The end of Lithuania’s independence proved to be the 
			beginning of the end of Lithuanian Jewry. At first, apparently 
			because of the role of Jewish apostates in the previous community 
			underground, a conspicuous number of Jews emerged in key positions 
			of the Soviet regime, installed in Lithuania following the Russian 
			invasion of June 15, 1940. This, however, did not preserve the Jews 
			from the blow inflicted on the entire population of Lithuania by 
			radical measures of Sovietization. Like everybody else, they were 
			ruined economically by sweeping expropriation of enterprises, 
			properties and savings. All their cultural institutions, 
			organizations, and newspapers were shut down, and their prominent 
			leaders were jailed along with the other alleged ‘enemies of the 
			people’. Eventually, in the course of the following months of the 
			communist regime, the Jews seemed to be adjusting themselves 
			somewhat more easily to the new conditions; at least such an 
			impression was increasingly taking hold in the minds of the rest of 
			the population. This impression was strengthened when the Jews were 
			but little affected by the mass deportations staged by the troops of 
			the NKVD in June 1941. The thought of Jews as being the masterminds 
			behind the communist terror had been held only by a few up to that 
			time, but now it caught on and spread among people surprised, 
			shocked, and enraged by the stroke of deportation. Only rumors 
			promising the imminent German march against Soviet Russia stirred up 
			hope for rescue from the raging NKVD terror. It was in such a state 
			of mind that the popular uprising against the communist regime broke 
			out in Lithuania simultaneously with the German attack of June 22, 
			1941, only a week after the most shocking NKVD raid. The insurgents 
			fought retreating Russian troops from two to four days in advance of 
			the oncoming German ground forces, and they also fervently hunted 
			down civilian functionaries and helpers of the collapsing regime, 
			most of whom were retreating eastward along with the Russian troops, 
			while some were in hiding, a few even sniping back from their 
			improvised shelters. Most Jews stayed home in anxiety, but several 
			thousand of them appeared on the roads, looking for some way to 
			escape imminent Nazi persecution by trying to mix into the columns 
			of Russian and local procommunist civilians who were being 
			evacuated. In many instances the insurgents pursued their vendetta 
			against the communists injudiciously, so that innocent people fell 
			victims in executions without trial, solely on the grounds of 
			unchecked suspicion or denunciation. Though this action, which 
			lasted no longer than two days in any particular area and ended 
			altogether on the fourth day of the war, was explicitly aimed at 
			communist activists, not at Jews as such, the Jews, especially those 
			on the roads or in homes suspected of being used by communists for 
			shelter, were particularly prone to fall under suspicion in the 
			circumstances. Consequently an unknown number of Jews were killed 
			along with an equally unverified number of non-Jews, guilty and 
			innocent …” 
			
			“… 
			the SD, having found the Lithuanian insurgents uncooperative in the 
			drive against the Jews, had banished any armed partisan activities 
			in the area and had ordered the surrender of all weapons in 
			possession of the insurgents.  The label ‘partisans’ was 
			fraudulently pinned on gangs of mercenaries lured by the SD into 
			‘auxiliary units’ hurriedly set up for the purpose of helping the 
			Germans in their alleged task of clearing the area of ‘residual 
			hostile elements’. Only a few of the insurgents (less than one out 
			of every thousand) volunteered to join the ‘auxiliaries’, most of 
			them with little anticipation of the precise nature of their 
			involvement. Some opportunist collaborators of the communist regime, 
			having failed to escape, hastily squeezed themselves into the 
			‘auxiliaries’ seeking safe disguise and new opportunities for 
			themselves. The rest of the ‘auxiliaries’ were attracted from the 
			obscurest layers of the population, including adventurers of low 
			morality and common criminals at large, greedy for loot promised in 
			return for the unscrupulous execution of bloody assignments.” 
			
			“… 
			In several weeks of sweeping operations, the SD detachments, aided 
			by the ‘auxiliary units’, achieved almost total annihilation of Jews 
			in all the provincial towns of Lithuania, and by the end of August 
			1941, the entire territory of Lithuania was reported in Berlin to be 
			‘clear of Jews’, except Vilnius, Kaunas, and Siauliai, the three 
			largest cities, where, after several sporadically staged assaults, 
			about 70,000 Jews were left alive but confined to the ghettos 
			established there …” 
			
			So 
			says the Lithuanian American Community, Inc. of the United States. 
			
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