Polygon — Association of Jews of Vilna and vicinity in Israel

In October 2018, a memorial service was held in Polygon, with the participation of the Polish Ambassador to Lithuania, a delegation from the Association of Jew from Vilna in Israel. Head f Sventsian Municipality, Moshe Shapira Chairman of the community, High school students, Representatives of the local press and members of the Lithuanian Jewish community from Vilna.

The story of the extermination of the Jews of Švenčionys and the vicinity within the Polygon, as told by Yaffa Ulpan(Shainke Kovarski).

in 1941, there was talk that the Jews of Švenčionys and the vicinity were going to be evicted from their homes and confined to the ghetto.

This was something children couldn’t grasp, even though our household had experienced something even worse. Shortly after the Germans had entered the city, they had taken father and shot him. This incident caused us to lose faith in the Poles and the Lithuanians.

Immediately after Rosh HaShana, at the end of September, 1941, we were told that we were to be sent to the ghetto. We spent the night packing. I remember that we packed warm socks for changing. We were told that we could take only what we were able to carry.

My mother packed up flour, sugar and potatoes to give to the Polish neighbors, who accepted them willingly, and promised to return them if we ever returned. At night, I went out into the yard and saw dozens of gentiles sitting near our house, including some of our good customers. They had made their way specially from the nearby farms in order to be the first to rob us of our property after we were evicted from our house.

The time had come. The Lithuanian police and the non-Jewish locals drove us out of the house. We had all put on extra layers of clothing. I fell down in the street but didn’t lay there for long since a Lithuanian policeman hit me with the butt of his rifle, and shoved us in the direction of the city (our house was quite far from the city center). At the crossroads, near the cross, a group of locals attached some more Jews to our group and led us towards the city center, with locals who had lived among us, lining the streets. Perhaps some were sad to see us go but I could only see happy faces.

The police hurried us along, hitting us with the butts of their rifles, until we got to a field outside of town. Most of the Jews of Švenčionys were already there. We were so naïve. We thought that we were being brought to the ghetto. The Lithuanians had organized everything so well. The Germans barely interfered – somebody else was doing their job to perfection.  We were held in that field for half a day, all of us, rich and poor alike, in the same situation. No one knew where we were being taken.

In the afternoon, after they had assembled all the Jews, they started leading us towards Nowe Święciany, about 12 km away. We were told that there was a ghetto there. The old and sick were transported in carts and it was a long and difficult haul. No one wanted to part with the packages they were dragging. Those who lagged behind were hit until they bled.

It was already dark when we reached Nowe Święciany. We thought that we would be staying there and start organizing ourselves but, unfortunately, the order was to keep going. The Jews of Nowe Święciany joined us. Now the crying and wailing started. We were led towards the Polygon forest. Upon entering the forest, we were confronted by a terrible spectacle. We saw huts and large bonfires. The whole forest looked like a huge bonfire. The path was rough. People were stepping all over each other and falling into the ditches and ruts left behind in the forest after the Polish army had undergone training there.

The Lithuanians beat and abused us, pushing us forcibly into the huts. We lay piled up on the floor. I found myself next to the hut’s open window and then, for the first time in my life, I saw how a human being is shot. A distraught, elderly woman, a widow, shouted: “Hitler, what do you want from us?”, and all sorts of other curses and insults. At this point, a Lithuanian policeman went up to her, grabbed hold of her and led her outside. He stood her in front of a tree, talked to her politely and shot her. Perhaps dying like that was better for her.

From that moment on, the thought of escaping from here never left me.

After that first, difficult night, we woke up to a new morning, and were astonished at seeing where we were. The forest was covered in a morning fog. As soon as it had cleared up, we were forced out of the hut and we saw that there were other similar huts housing Jews like us and others from the surroundings towns.

In the morning, the men were separated from the women and children. Any man trying to get close to his family was beaten hard. It was easier for those who spoke Lithuanian and could speak to the guards in their own language. Thanks to our knowledge of Lithuanian, plus a little money, we were allowed to cook some food for ourselves.

During the day, we wandered outside. There were rumors that we were being sent to work. At night, we were locked up in the hut. This was really difficult as there was no room for all of us in the hut and we had to lie on top of each other.

The tradesmen who were left in Święciany organized themselves and started to bring us groceries occasionally.

On the eve of Yom Kippur, the men prayed and cried. The Lithuanians beat them. I stood at the hut window and saw my uncle Chanoch, who was a complete heretic, holding a siddur (prayer book) and praying, with his eyes closed. A Lithuanian stood next to him and beat him mercilessly.

Everyone cried, including the women and children. But no one believed that the fate of the Święciany Jews had already been signed and sealed.

I could not have imagined that, the following day, Yom Kippur, I would say goodbye to my mother for the last time. We got up in the morning. Everyone was fasting. In any case, there was nothing to eat. At noon, Bernatovich, the Lithuanian manager at the sawmill where my uncle Matisse Kovarski worked, came. He needed workers and had permission to take my uncle and his family, together with some other families, out of the Polygon. This all happened very quickly. Mother handed in our certificates since we had the same surname, but they were rejected at the last minute as our address differed from that of my uncle. My grandmother, Matisse’s mother, was allowed to leave. When they stood waiting to leave, my aunt asked one of the policemen to let me leave with the others, and promised him that I would go home and look for the gold and silver my father had hidden and let him have it. The bargaining went back and forth for a few minutes and in the end, he agreed. Mother forced me to go and promised that she would leave and join me later on.

I stood in line to be searched before leaving. I had the feeling that I wouldn’t be seeing my mother again and even said that I wouldn’t leave without her. Mother took a gold ring out of her pocket, gave it to the policeman asking him not to let me leave the line and return to her.

I can remember her saying: “You go, perhaps you will find the silver and then you will be able to save us all…”. Everything happened so quickly that I didn’t even have time to think. They put us in a hut and the Lithuanian police carried out a thorough search. Some people were ordered to undress completely. Then we were taken out of the camp.

On Yom Kippur, at exactly 16.00, we left the Polygon, a seemingly happy moment but it was a miserable one as I felt that I had seen my mother and relations for the last time.

A few days later, I wanted to go back to my mother in the Polygon, but that same day, all the Jews in the ghetto were ordered to report for assembly at the ghetto gate in order to check who had an official approval from the authorities. That’s why my plans to return to the Polygon never materialized that day. 

That day, all the Jews in the Polygon were murdered

The picture of how 8,000 Jews were murdered and thrown into pits has never left me.