3 – What Khane Golemba witnessed

(Courtesy of author)
(Courtesy of author)

Eighty percent (80%) of Jews in Lithuania had been murdered (almost entirely by Lithuanians not Nazis) prior to the formulation of the “Final Solution of the Jewish People” by the Nazis.

Lithuania has an entire government department dedicated to falsifying the history of the Holocaust in Lithuania, exonerating Lithuanian Holocaust perpetrators, and shifting all blame elsewhere. Those opposing Lithuanian government fraud are identified as “Russian agents” and are subjected to Soviet style, government intimidation.

Leyb Koniuchowsky collected 121 testimonies from Holocaust victims, which were made public in: The Lithuanian Slaughter of its Jews: The Testimonies of 121 Jewish survivors of the Holocaust in Lithuanian, recorded by Leyb Koniuchowsky, in Displaced Persons’ Camps (1946-48).

It is customary for Lithuania to dismiss and discard “inconvenient” testimony, declaring it “unreliable”. The actual “unreliable data” comes from the bowels of Lithuania’s revisionist history.

When the quoted testimony refers to “partisans”, they mean Lithuanian partisans only. Every single Holocaust testimony in this series is well known to be in direct conflict to the position of the Government of Lithuania.

Can it be that all 34 signatory nations of IHRA are wrong, blind, or lying in finding Lithuania to be a Holocaust distorting state?

Can it be that all the Survivors were delusional or mendacious?

Or, is the Government of Lithuania lying?

Lithuania has not punished a single Holocaust perpetrator. Instead, they identify many of them as their national heroes. The Lithuanian Government tells us Jews that our families are “lost”. Read Khane’s eyewitness testimony on how they came to be “lost”, and wonder if they will ever be “found”.

Part 1 of Khane’s testimony is here:

Part 2:

Following is part 3 of Khane Golemba’s testimony:

How Did Khane and Her Daughter Survive?

Khane and her daughter Zlate were among the five hundred women in the Telzh ghetto. They experienced all of the suffering and torment of the women of Telzh. (Concerning the women in the Telzh ghetto see the testimony of Malke Gilis and Yente Alter-Gershovitz — L K )

Peasants used to come to the ghetto and take Jewish women to work. Before the women were taken out of the ghetto, the partisans would record the first and last names of the women as well as the first and last names and addresses of the peasant.

Sore Leybzon, Khane’s sister-in-law, also worked for a peasant named Antanas Shaukis in the village of Gudishkiai near Luoke. This Antanas was a partisan, and had shed more than a little Jewish blood. He took Sore to work from the Geruliai camp, and she was away during the shootings at the camp. After the women had been in the ghetto for a week’s time, Antanas came to take more women to work. Khane knew him from before the war, and he took her and her daughter as well.

Khane, her daughter and Sore worked very hard for the peasant. He exploited them in every way. The women had to do the heaviest kinds of work, even man’s work. They were fed very poorly, because none of them would eat anything non-kosher.

Three days before the slaughter of the women in the Telzh ghetto, a policeman came from Telzh and told the peasant that all three women had to be brought to Telzh for a “health examination. That same day, Sunday evening, the peasant brought the three women to Telzh. When they arrived at the edge of town, Khane saw a Jewish woman with a child in her arms running through the street. The woman warned Khane not to ride into the ghetto, because anyone who could was escaping from the slaughter that was coming any day. With tears in their eyes, the three women begged the peasant not to take them into the ghetto, but to go there himself first to see what was happening there.

The women stood waiting next to the wagon, and the peasant went to the commandant of the ghetto and. explained that all three women had run away from him during the night. When he returned, he didn’t tell the women everything. But the women already understood anyway. The peasant agreed to take the three women back to his place, on condition that they would no longer stay there. When they returned to the peasant’s place the three women hid in the straw in the barn, so that Antanas thought all three women had escaped during the night. For seven days and nights the women hid in the barn, without food or drink. All they had to still their thirst was snow which the wind blew in. Outside it was already bitter cold; it reached -28 degrees Centigrade. That was late in the fall of 1941. Khane held her child the whole time, warming her with her body. Her own feet froze. The women could no longer bear the hunger, thirst and cold, and began moving in the barn. The peasant spotted them and asked them into his house.

That same evening the peasant rode into Luoke to determine whether it was possible for him to keep the women. As he was taking the three women from the barn into his house, Antanas related that all the women had been shot. Before leaving for Luoke, he ordered the three women to remain in the house and to be careful. Two captured Red Army soldiers worked for him. Before leaving Antanas ordered them not to let anyone into the house. The peasant’s wife, who was also a partisan, had gone away visiting. The three women remained in the house.

A peasant named Jakubauskas lived nearby to Antanas. The whole time the women worked for Antanas they went to Jakubauskas regularly to buy food. Apparently he had seen the women leaving the barn. He came and wanted to go into the house to see the women. The prisoners told him that there was no one in he house and the master had gone to town. But Jakubauskas insisted that he had to go into the house to see the three Jewish women, concerning a very important matter. The women left the closet where they had been hiding. Jakubauskas “mourned for the women and warned them to leave the house as fast as possible, because police would soon come from the village looking for them. He told them to bring as many things as possible and come to his place. The women had hidden their things at Antanas place before riding to Telzh. The women took everything they could, and went to Jakubauskas. The peasant promised to help them until the end of the war, and reassured them.

At night all three women lay in one bed. The peasant and his wife lay down in the other bed. The three women got no sleep that night. In the middle of the night the peasant and his wife went out into the kitchen and whispered between themselves for a long time. Khane went into the kitchen and saw the peasant sitting with his wife. Near them lay a long, freshly-sharpened knife. Khane returned in terror. The peasant followed immediately. Khane sighed deeply.

The peasant asked her why she was sighing. Khane told him how bitter and unfortunate their situation was. The peasant casually answered that this was nothing and soon it would be worse for them, because partisans were coming to arrest everyone. The women began weeping and pleading. But the peasant explained that anyone who handed over a Jew received 500 marks. “So why shouldn’t I hand you over?” the peasant asked the three unfortunate women, his face flushed.

After they had briefly wept and begged, the peasant took all three women’s shoes, took their better possessions and drove them out of the house. He chased them for a while with a post. A strong, cold wind whistled and twisted outside. Their feet bare, the women ran through neck-deep snow. Khane herself does not remember how far they ran. When they turned, they no longer saw the peasant.

In the distance, through the eternal cold darkness, they saw a small fire flickering. The women began running towards the fire. When they came into a village they knocked on one peasant’s door and then another’s, but no one allowed them into the house. To stand and rest would have meant freezing their limbs off. Little Khane had no more strength, but Khane forced her to keep going. They knocked on the door of a small hut on the side of the road. An old peasant, his wife and a young Gentile boy were in the house.

When they saw the three women, they became very frightened to see their appearance. There the three women rested. The peasant and his wife were pious; they constantly crossed themselves and mourned for the bitter, tragic fate of the Jews and of the three unfortunate women.

The women warmed themselves there, drank hot water and got their strength back. At daybreak the peasant asked them to go further.

Before they left he found them some wooden shoes, gave them rags to wind around their feet, and showed them where they should go. But the other peasant did not want to keep them either. In the evening a peasant woman promised to take them to an American Lithuanian who would certainly hide them. She took them into a deep forest, and refused to guide them any further for free. The women gave her silk stockings. Sore gave her a golden chain. The peasant woman took these things and led them a bit further into the forest, and then again refused to lead them any further. Sore took off and gave her a wool sweater. When they came to the edge of the forest, the peasant woman indicated where they should go. When they knocked at the American’s door, he would not let the women into the house. It was already dark out. They continued on to another peasant’s home. Women sat spinning in the warm house. They all burst out weeping when they saw the three women, and began getting food ready.

At that moment a forester came into the house with a revolver in his hand. Apparently the American Lithuanian had sent him. The forester arrested the three women and took them out into the forest. When they had gone a certain distance in the dark forest, he took them into a house. About ten men sat at a table getting drunk. They were “pleased” to see the three Jewish women and began making jokes at the women’s expense. Each one proposed a different kind of death for the women. They made various suggestions: to cut out the women’s tongues, to put out their eyes, and so forth. When they had mocked the women for several hours, the forester and four others led the women out into the forest. They assured the women that they would all soon be shot. When they reached a pit meant for storing potatoes, they stopped the women and threatened to shoot them. They took the women further on through the dark forest and brought them to the forester’s house. He telephoned the Luoke police. But no one came from Luoke to arrest the women. The murderers kept the women at the forester’s home until the next morning. All night the peasants and the forester threatened to murder the women with an axe, with a shovel, and so forth. When it grew light, the forester took the three women to the police in Luoke on a wagon. When he brought the three women to the police chief, the forester boasted about his great achievement. To his great disappointment, the police chief promised him a solid punishment instead of a reward.

The police chief was a very good man, and knew Khane well from before the war. When he saw the three women, he clutched his head. He cursed the forester roundly for his “heroic achievement. He put the three women in jail, where he later sent them food and gave them a chance to heat up the stove in the cell. All the guards in the prison immediately noticed the positive attitude of their chief to the three women.

At night a policeman brought the three women from prison to the police chief’s house. There he fed the women well, and gave them the address of his father-in-law, a Russian who lived in the countryside ten kilometers from the town of Luoke. A policeman accompanied the three women out of town and pointed the direction from the village to the Russian’s house. Outside it was dreadfully cold. The women did not feel it. Outside it was pitch dark, but the women did not lose their way. However, they did not find the peasant’s house that night, but spent the night with another peasant. The next evening they arrived at the Russian’s home with a note from the police chief. The peasant gave the women a friendly reception, and gave them food and drink for three weeks. He could keep them no longer, because neighbours began to suspect the house.

Once again the women began wandering through a strange landscape, in a strange world full of enemies, full of deadly risks. There were a few good peasants, but it was hard to find them. Near the Russian’s home was a village called Genten, fourteen kilometers from Luoke. The peasants from that village were all pious and all related to each other. In that village the three women hid with peasants all winter, several weeks. During the spring and summer of 1942 they survived in a nearby forest in a rye field. The peasants knew they were there and brought them food. Of course, they suffered a great deal of hunger. Sometimes they had to fast six or seven days at a stretch.

The Telzh police found out about the three women who were hiding. Frequent searches began through the region. More than once the three women were close to death, and escaped by chance. The police chief from Luoke advised the three women to leave the area.

Wandering further among peasants in unknown villages, they arrived at the home of a nobleman named Jonas Dulkis. He owned two compounds; he kept the women in one compound for three weeks, and in the other for four weeks. The women worked hard in the compounds, trying to please the nobleman. One of the nobleman’s workers reported them to the Telzh police. A telephone call was made from Telzh to the police in Luoke, telling them to arrest the three Jewish women. The policeman who came from Luoke knew the women well; he was the one who had accompanied them out of Luoke that winter. The nobleman was a very good man, and had pity on the women. He arranged with the policeman that the woman should be freed, and he would be arrested. The policeman brought the nobleman to Telzh under arrest. He was kept in prison for a week and tortured. Priests spoke up on his behalf and he was liberated.

When they came to arrest the three women, Sore was in the forest. When she found out that a policeman had come to arrest Khane, she escaped from the forest. She only met Khane again after a year of wandering through the countryside.

During the summer and winter of 1942-1943 Khane and her daughter were once again with peasants in the village of Genten. A peasant named Pranas Trilikauskas from the village of Vaishlaukiai took in Khane and her daughter, and kept them until the Liberation. The good peasant immediately prepared a hiding place in his barn, where Khane and her daughter hid during searches. In general however the peasant kept them in his house, where they did various tasks for him. The peasant was very satisfied with Khane. They experienced various dangers at the peasant’s home as well. More than once they were forced to spend a night and a day in the forest with nothing to eat or drink. More than once they spent a winter’s day hiding in the forest. But the peasant did everything he could to save the two women. Sore Leybzon found out about Khane and her daughter, and came to visit them once. They met again after the Liberation.

After long battles, the Red Army appeared like an angel from heaven. This was in the summer of 1944. As if by some bizarre miracle, officers and soldiers from the Red Army came to look at the two women, who had spent the last weeks lying in hiding day in, day out in the pit at the peasant’s barn. With great affection they helped the women regain their strength, and took care of all their needs.

About the Author
Grant Arthur Gochin currently serves as the Honorary Consul for the Republic of Togo. He is the Emeritus Special Envoy for Diaspora Affairs for the African Union, which represents the fifty-five African nations, and Emeritus Vice Dean of the Los Angeles Consular Corps, the second largest Consular Corps in the world. Gochin is actively involved in Jewish affairs, focusing on historical justice. He has spent the past twenty five years documenting and restoring signs of Jewish life in Lithuania. He has served as the Chair of the Maceva Project in Lithuania, which mapped / inventoried / documented / restored over fifty abandoned and neglected Jewish cemeteries. Gochin is the author of “Malice, Murder and Manipulation”, published in 2013. His book documents his family history of oppression in Lithuania. He is presently working on a project to expose the current Holocaust revisionism within the Lithuanian government. He is Chief of the Village of Babade in Togo, an honor granted for his philanthropic work. Professionally, Gochin is a Certified Financial Planner and practices as a Wealth Advisor in California, where he lives with his family. Personal site:
Related Topics
Related Posts