moaning of the wounded and dying—and the sound of the mob, br

which has now moved on to its next victims.

One of the survivors, Y. L. Grodzinski, tells how he was br

saved: “As I ran into one of the rooms, I saw my mother stand- br

ing at a window and crying, ‘Help us!’ A crowd of jeering, br

laughing Arabs stood and threw rocks at her. I seized her and br

pushed her behind a bookshelf that stood in the corner of the br

room. I then placed a young girl and a boy of twelve there. Final- br

ly I and another yeshiva student pushed ourselves into the nar- br

row space. We could hardly breathe but lay there terrified as the br

Arabs burst into the room. The cries of the Jews who were being br

murdered were terrible. Every moment we expected the Arabs br

to find us and kill us, too. It was a miracle of G-d that, somehow, br

they did not. After an interminable time they left, and the only br

sounds we heard were those of the wounded and dying.

“I lifted myself up and tried to get out. It was very difficult br

because the shelves were very heavy and bodies blocked it. br

When I finally crawled out, my head swam and eyes darkened br

at the horrible sight. At my feet lay Eliezer Don Slonim, his wife, br

and young child, Aharon. They wallowed in their own blood. br

Next to them lay the bodies of Slonim’s father-in-law, Rabbi br

Orlinski, and his wife. The rabbi lay in his talis [“prayer br

shawl”] and I thought how just a little while earlier I had heard br

him blessing us with the priestly blessing, ‘and may He give you br

peace.’ Now he, his wife, his daughter, son-in-law, and grand- br

child lay in a final peace.

“There were scores of other bodies, some dead, some br

wounded. The dead all had their skulls shattered and their in- br

testines ripped out. The same picture was in the other rooms. br

There I saw my brother. I rushed to him. His head had been br

struck brutal blows with an ax. I threw water on him and he br

revived, but died of his wounds some hours later.

“Eliezer Dovnikov, the principal of the Tel Nordau school, br

in Tel Aviv, lay dead but there were no marks on his body. He br

had been strangled, his body lying next to that of his wife. The br

room was a scene of horror, and the vision of Bialik’s Ir br

HaHareiga [City of slaughter; concerning the Kishinev pogrom] br

stood as a living ghost before me in all its horror.

“I went to the window and saw policemen passing. I called br

to them, asking them to send medical aid. Just at that moment, br