Small Riga Ghetto

143
Bloody Sloka (Schlock)
(Dedicated to My Only Son Arthur, Who Was Killed)
Ojb ich fun Merder-hant a tojt farletzter
Wel faln haint cu morgn ojf der erd,
Un du west zajn der id, wos iz der letzter
Fun alle idn ojf der welt,
Zolstu di tojt-klole fun unz milionen,
Wi gift cezein iber folk un land
Un blut-NEKOME, far die merder monen
Un oncindn ojf der welt NEKOMO-BRAND.
(If I, fatally wounded by a murderer's hand,
Fall dead to the ground this morning,
And you become the last Jew
Of all the Jews in the world,
Spread the death-curse of us millions
Over peoples and countries
And call for VENGEANCE for spilled blood
And light the FIRE OF VENGEANCE in the world.)
"Mein Cawoe" (My Testament), Jakob Rassein
I am writing this chapter on the fourth anniversary of the murder of my only
son. As I write "my memoirs", each chapter has put my nerves under extreme
strain, because remembering these events has once again set them very vividly
before my eyes. So the reader will surely understand that I can manage to
write down the following experience only with shaking hands.
On Sunday, 18 April 1943. an order was given in the ghetto: "All work
crews must report to the German ghetto." My son and I also obeyed this order,
for together we made up a work crew. For a long time all of us stood lined up
in the ghetto and waited for the "lords and masters" to arrive. At last we saw
our Kommandant, the chief murderer Roschmann, accompanied by his permanent
adjutant Gymnich. Schultz and Kassel, the leaders of the Jewish workers
in the ghetto, also arrived. Every work crew was reviewed, and then individuals
were selected for a special Kommando to be sent to Sloka. This time it was
our turn: we too were selected to be sent to Sloka. We were ordered to report
for Sloka at eight o'clock the following morning. Because from the start I had
the feeling that this Kommando would bring us bad luck, I tried all day to be