To Lublin, Alone

As I continued toward Lublin, on foot again (as indicated by the again continuous cyan line on the map) there was once more a sign toward Rudnik, which meant not only some good food at my grandmother's immediately, but also the near certainty of coming under German Nazi rule a little later. It should be understood that I did not decide against that because I did not want to end up in the gas chamber of a death camp like Auschwitz. Things like that were inconceivable at the time, not only to me. I had lived almost six years under Nazi rule in Germany, about half the lifetime of the thousand year "Third Reich", and experienced a few pretty ugly things, notably the "Polenaktion" leading to Zbaszyn; and was well aware of the Kristallnacht about a week later, the worst prewar action. That could hardly have enabled prediction of what was to follow now under cover of war.

A more likely motivation was that, sensing that the war now seemed likely to last quite some time, I wanted to be on the right side; specifically to be able to get to Palestine. What is most vivid in my memory of this stage is my singing our Zionist songs, as the road widened approaching Lublin from Krasnik. Although I abandoned Zionist ideology a few years later, I ought to emphasize that it was my fervent Zionist commitment that gave me the strength I needed at this time. I was in high spirits, daydreaming of my future ideal life in a kibbutz with a beautiful shomeret (the Hebrew name of our girls in the Ha-shomer Ha-tzair). The dysentery was over, for good. I don't recall any awareness of hunger, or danger of getting detained again with worse consequence. Maybe any real commitment can have such effect on a youngster. Then Lublin came into view.