A Promise at Sobibór: A Jewish Boy’s Story of Revolt and Survival in Nazi-Occupied Poland

12. Liberation and Victory

147 12 Liberation and Victory Iemerge from our hiding place along with Symcha and Lola. Finally after almost five years of life under the Germans, I have regained the sensation of freedom. And I appreciate it as never before. My first steps feel both light and determined. Even the familiar sight of the village around me, with its scattered farms surrounded by the forest in the distance, seems suddenly beautiful. We inform the Mazureks that we will be leaving and thank them one last time. They give us several blankets and sandwiches. We then walk to the main road and try to mix with the fighters and returning refugees. We do not know if Izbica, which is north of us, has yet been liberated from German control, so we decide to head south toward Zamo£ç. Because the tanks are advancing from the road that originates in Zamo£ç, we can be almost certain that by now it is under Soviet control. To get there we begin walking along the road. Despite the energy we have gained from knowing we are free, we soon grow rather weary. Eventually a farmer in a wagon drives by, and we ask for a ride to Zamo£ç. The farmer agrees. Symcha and I load our belongings onto the wagon. But before we can climb onto the wagon ourselves, the farmer begins to drive away without us! We are far too weak to give chase. Ten minutes later a Soviet military truck approaches. Incredibly, the driver calls out to us in Yiddish! “Do you need some help?” asks the friendly Soviet Jewish officer. We tell him of how we have just been robbed and that we are looking for someone to drive us to Zamo£ç. “Get into the truck and come with me then,” our newfound guardian angel says without hesitating. He turns the truck around in the direction that the thief has headed. Within minutes our truck has caught up with the thief’s wagon. “Is he the one?” asks our driver. We take a close look. It is indeed the same man. The officer stops the truck and springs outside to confront the culprit. As we look on from inside the vehicle, the officer strikes the thief and proceeds to recover all our belongings. And upon further inspection of the thief’s wagon, the soldier finds an entire slaughtered cow hidden inside. It has been cut into quarters. He asks us for help removing the booty and placing it onto his truck. Even working together we barely have enough strength to lift each part of the cow. But somehow we manage to transfer the entire cow onto the truck. Once we are all back on the truck, we think the officer will continue driving us to Zamo£ç. Instead he begins to turn the truck around. Apparently he has different plans. “What are you doing?” we ask. “I must deliver these supplies to the front!” the officer answers. We have no choice but to go along for what we know can be a dangerous ride. The officer turns around on the narrow stretch of road—we are certain that the truck will get caught in a ditch, but somehow he maneuvers successfully—and we begin our journey toward the battlefields. “How active is the front?” we ask, not even sure that we want to know the answer. “The Germans are retreating, but they are still fighting back.” The officer’s answer does little to encourage us. After riding for about three miles, we can hear what sounds like rockets raining down in the distance . They each whir frighteningly as they travel through the air above our heads and plunge toward their targets. We are in the thick of a pitched battle. All I can think is: “I survived Sobibór, and now I am going to die on the eastern front!” But our Soviet officer is undeterred. As we sweat it out in the truck, he hurriedly delivers the supplies and the cow. Then at last he turns the truck around. He drives us all the way to Zamo£ç. When we arrive, we thank the officer profusely. In Zamo£ç we quickly find that about twenty-five Jews have grouped together in a community center called the Perec House.1 Everyone is busy trading stories of how he 148 Liberation and Victory or she has...