I'm sorry I cannot recall the entire story in its whole. I may be sub consciously blocking the horror, it is likely.
We stood around the pits (
photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net...), listening to
the story. Dead silent. Then from the other group their guide started praying, that sad, song-like prayer. He started with a strong voice, very loud.
He slowly became quieter as you could hear the tears in his voice as he prayed. Again, I don't expect anyone who wasn't in that exact position to
understand the feeling, and as much as I think it's important I do not wish it upon anyone.
Until nightfall that evening of august 25th, every 10 minutes, with machinegun fire, in rows of 20, around 1,400 of the Jews of Tykocin were killed
and buried one on top of the other. One on top of his neighbor, co-worker, classmate, cousin, brother, mother, sister, father – everyone. At night
the pits were covered by local poles under the supervision of the Germans, witnesses tell of the ground moving
(
photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net...), and the soil red with blood.
The next day, morning – August 26th. The Nazis rounded up the rest of the Jews in Tykocin, all the Jews that did not show up the day before. Around
700 souls. They were taken to the same place, stood above the second pit and the Germans opened fire. By noon that day, the ancient Tykocin Jewish
community was destroyed.
The few that ran away into the forest were caught with dogs, stood in front of the third smaller pit, and killed as well.
A miniscule amount survived the Tykocin Jewish massacre.
(
photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net...)
Everyone got very emotional, many of us cried at the pits. Our guide told us of her father. He was a holocaust survivor. She never wanted to hear his
stories, until he passed away. She found a cache of rare documents in his office concerning his survival, and since then she devoted herself to learn
and teach about the holocaust.
We took time to ourselves, each one alone travelled between the three pits thinking. I'm sure my thoughts were similar to the rest. I was imagining
the people standing in front of the pits looking at the barrel of the machinegun, some of them to young to understand what it is. Some of them to
young to even see it. I was thinking of the Jews looking at the Germans, looking into their eyes and the Germans would look back, and still after
seconds of eye contact the side not close to the pits would brutally execute the opposing pair of eyes.
I looked at my feet, at the entrance to the pit, the exact word I thought of is either "why" or "how" or something like that. I wanted god to take
care of the souls of those who were murdered, and also to take care of the souls that murdered, are they tortured as well?
How can so much green grass and tall, thick trees grow here? The trees saw what happened, the bugs and squirrels saw what happened, I was angry at a
fly for not doing anything, seriously. Why could he have flown into the machine gunner's eye? You can’t really control what you think; I am telling
you what I remember.
Tykocin massacre, 2,500 Jews. A community destroyed.
Next stop, Treblinka, 870,000 Jews, 17,000 communities destroyed.
I don’t recall the trip between the Tykocin forest and Treblinka, but we arrived at 17:00, this will be relevant later.
It's been a week since I wrote the above sentence, it becomes increasingly difficult to get into the mood to write everything, to recall the feeling
and the emotions, and I forget a lot of the situations or images I've seen.