THE POGROM
Originally published in SHAFTS OF LIGHT ,1997

In 1919, the southeastern part of Poland was invaded by a rag-tag group of Bolsheviks from the Ukraine.  Their purpose was to annex this part of Poland into the newly created Ukrainian Soviet Republic.

False rumors were spread: All the armies are led by Jews.  When they come into a town, they kill all the Polish men, rape all the young women, and hand the pretty ones over to Russia.  They save all the Jews, give them Polish lands, and elect them mayors and leaders.

The Polacks, of course, were told to resist at all costs.  Pogroms against the Jewish population were rampant.  The Bolsheviks never reached our town, but rumors spread that a pogrom against the Jews was planned.  The word was out that the Polacks were sharpening their axes.

Fear spread among the Jewish community.  All the young women were made to look ugly; dirt and soot were spread upon their faces.  They were hidden in cellars and attics.  The old men prayed.

Not so in our house.  We had a great wooden gate that was clad on the inside with steel.  It would take a cannon to force it down.  All our window shutters were of metal and were securely fastened.  It would be impossible to break in.  Grandfather assured us that nothing bad would happen to us, but still the men had iron poles on the ready, and one of my uncles, Myer – a very inventive person – had his own scheme for protection.

All during the war he had a sideline of making soap.  Soap was legally unobtainable; at times the ruling authorities released some at very high prices.  Myer made his own brand out of lye and lard and some more mysterious chemicals.  He cooked all the ingredients in very large pots and kettles.  (Sometimes when he spilled some, it burned the flesh and anything it touched.)  When controlled and finished, the hot liquid was poured into wooden molds having a distinct outline of a fish.  He sold his product to the general population in our town.  Even the hospital bought some of it.

My uncle found a hiding place overlooking the nearby entrance door.  He fashioned a large squirt gun out of wood and metal; it looked like a bicycle pump.  He then set up a big container of lye.  If anybody were to attempt to break into our home, he was well positioned to squirt the alkali into their eyes.  Blind men cannot do too much damage.

Night came.  Our town did not have any electricity, or even gaslights.  When all the windows were shuttered it was pitch dark.  It was like walking in a sea of black ink. All remained very quiet.  Nobody made a sound.  In the middle of the night we heard some thunder, saw some light flashes.  A storm or cannon fire?  Everyone was alert.  We heard steps.  Some people were coming and guiding themselves by touching our walls!  The tension grew.  Myer was ready.  Through a slit in the shutters we saw the Polish butcher and his son. They had shiny axes in their belts.

A gentle knock on the window, then a whisper:

"Pan Schmuel (Pan is equivalent to Sir), it’s us, your neighbors.  We are here to protect you in case there is trouble from anyone.  We will stay outside all night."

And they did.  In the morning, grandmother lit her wood-burning stove.  She put on the coffee pot (actually chicory) and placed on the table some bread, jam, and cheese. The butcher and his son were invited in.  Grandpa was in a corner wearing his large prayer shawl and tefillin and saying his morning prayer.  The Polacks crossed themselves, sat down, took off their caps and had their breakfast.

The town stayed quiet.  The stores opened as usual.  The Communists never arrived, and no one ever mentioned the pogrom that could, but did not happen.