Larry Stillman from the testimony of Morris Goldner
This is the true story of Morris Goldner. As a young boy he witnessed, with his own eyes, Nazi horrors, somehow survives and then finds himself being mentored by a notorious criminal to stay alive. Their exploits eventually lead to sabotage against the Nazi's. This is an incredible survival story, told with courage and honesty; detailing experiences which unopen the spaces between good and evil particular to the hell that was WWII. I commend Morris' willingness to share his experiences in this important, and unique, Holocaust story.
"It was finally getting through to me that while the war lasted, my life could no longer be the same. Although I had not been happy going back and forth to school in Debica, now I felt like a prisoner in mu own home. Yet I had no idea how much better my life was compared to waht most families faced in the large cities." Pg. 25
"On another day I spent several fascinating hours - for I had never been a better student than when I learned about the weapons of war - reviewing the characteristics of various hand grenades." Pg. 37
"A howl of anguish rose suddenly to my left - cries of such piercing pain, it struck me as being almost inhuman in origin. I turned in that direction, toward the women's group, searching for Mama and Gita. I could not spot them, because soldiers had moved in among the frenzied women. What I saw taking place there, just meters away from where I stood, paralyzed me with such horror, I cannot find proper words to describe what I witnessed and what I felt. How can words describe such inhumanity?
This can't be happening! I thought at the time, and I think it anew each of the hundreds of times the scene replays itself, even now, in my nightmares. For this is what I see:
SS men are singling out all the women with babies and small children, brutally driving them at bayonet point toward the barrels. Give us your garbage! they are shouting in German. Put your babies in the barrels! The mothers are screaming louder than the children, They cannot believe they understand what the soldiers want them to do. The SS monsters push them harder, force them toward the barrels. Then one after another, they pry the babies from their mothers' protective arms and stuff the beautiful, innocent children into the barrels as if they are nothing more than freshly pickled cucumbers. As each barrel becomes filled with babies, the SS man slams its cover tightly into place and moves on to the next barrel." Pg 48
Encounter with the priest:
"'I am ashamed of my own people' - his precise words - 'both within the church and outside it. When the war ends and we have to answer to the rest of the world, what will we say? How will the Polish people face them?'"
Pg. 105
"Something gelled at that moment in the back of my mind, a hunger that had been there all along but had just now been given light and substance, like an image materializing on a sheet of photosensitive paper. From that moment on, it would remain in my consciousness, fixed indelibly, until my own plans for retribution could be put in action." Pg. 145
"It was at this moment the explosion blew apart the carriage I had just left. Projectiles of mangled steel splayed in all directions, destroying the carriages both immediately in front and behind, overturning several of the remaining cars and scattering others off the track.
I pulled myself deeper into the forest, wincing in pain from my bruised ribs and torn shoulder. I could have easily been killed three times over: by the force of the nearby explosion, or the carnage of flying glass and metal, or in my jump from the speeding train. This time I did not even try to understand why, once more, I had escaped with my life." Pg. 153
"In German-occupied homes the Russians spared no one, including the family pets. Men were forced to watch as their wives and daughters, screaming for mercy, were savagely raped by Russian soldiers - who, after having their way, slashed each German throat. From what I could tell, the Red Army authorities made no effort to reign in the barbarity. Stalin himself, I have since heard, shrugged off the rape and looting as 'having some fun' and 'taking a few trifles.'" Pg. 178
"And for the first time since my earliest missions with Kopec, I felt a vague sensation of uneasiness seeping down into the pit of my stomach, like water eroding rock. But this time it was not the anxiety of being caught, or tortured, or killed, or failing a mission that unnerved me so. It was something much less definable and far more paralyzing:
The consternation of having survived, with no idea, no idea at all, of what to do about it." Pg. 179
Book 64
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