Rescuers of Jews
Janavičienė Anelė
Dvora Tkatsch tells her daughter Polina Tkatsch-Davidson how Polina was rescued:
On 28 October 1941, the darkest day of the ghetto, during the selection, we were sent to the left side and survived. I can still hear the bitter weeping that sounded from homes of the ghetto.
During so-called Children’s Action I was fortunate to conceal you in my friend’s kitchen. She put up wallpaper and camouflaged the door that led to the kitchen. She covered that wall with pots and pans and the Germans overlooked it. There were other mothers and children in this hideout. They put pressure on me to take you out from the hiding place since you were suffering from whooping cough. I would stuff a towel in your mouth whenever we heard the Germans approaching. It was a ‘Nes’, a miracle, that we were not discovered.
After this event I feared letting you out of the house. I was even afraid of the neighbours whose children had already been taken away. When they asked me where my daughter was, I’d say ‘same place as yours’. You were a bright girl and knew to crawl under the table when someone knocked at the door. I laid a long tablecloth over this table to conceal you. We knew that we had not yet seen the last of these ‘actions’ and we started considering ways of getting you out of danger. We understood that if there was at least a small chance that you would survive it was in a caring Lithuanian home. We opted therefore to give you to virtually whoever would accept. We would even have given you to gypsies.
Occasionally we managed to smuggle things out of the ghetto and exchange them for food. One day, your father managed to bring home butter. Usually, butter obtained in this way would be filled with sawdust, but on this occasion the butter was genuine. On the basis of her evident honesty, your father decided to find the woman who had supplied us this butter and ask if she might help us.
We lived in one room with four other families and, when they had all fallen asleep, your father told me that he had found this woman and that she was willing to take you. I was horrified at the thought of separation but he urged me to meet her. Her name was Anelė Janavičienė. She looked like a simple woman; she brought bread rolls with her that she had baked especially for you. She took me into her home which was a small room in a very modest house. Anelė subsisted by trading goods. I asked her how we could pay her for her assistance, others had wanted only gold. She looked at me with surprise, saying for this one does not charge. She warned me that she would not be able to keep you for long, that she would teach you to speak Lithuanian and then send you to her friend in a different village.
Your father and I had to figure out how we would manage to get you out of the ghetto. We bribed the guard. Moshe pretended that he had to deliver bread to the ghetto and to do this he required a carriage and a sack. The sack was filled with hay, you were sedated and we covered your face with muslin. You fell asleep but awoke not far from the gate and started asking us in Yiddish where you were being taken to. We had to turn back.
The following day, I dressed in my best outfit, removed the yellow star and begged you to stay quiet as we left the ghetto. We crossed the river in a boat and arrived at Anelė’s home. As soon as we entered, my heart stopped: a Gestapo’s army uniform hung on her wall. Upon seeing my expression, Anelė tried to assure me that the uniform belonged to her lover, that there was no cause for concern and that I must calm down. I stayed with you the first night and the next day returned to the ghetto alone. Though a bond was struck instantly between you and Anelė and I could see that you loved her, the sight of the Gestapo uniform continued to disturb me.
Anelė’s neighbours very quickly began to suspect that you were a Jewish child and Anelė, having changed your name to Marytė Janavičiūtė transferred you to the friend who lived in a different village.
The ghetto was liquidated. I was taken to Stutthof, your father was sent to Dachau. I found out only after the war that he did not even make it to Dachau. He had jumped off the train.
We always remained in contact with Anelė, she had no family. We wanted to take her to Israel with us but she was not prepared to leave Lithuania. A photograph of her hangs in Polina’s bedroom, we are eternally grateful to her. She had been a special lady. There had not been many of them. Anelė Janavičienė was awarded the title of Righteous Among the Nations after her death.
On 28 October 1941, the darkest day of the ghetto, during the selection, we were sent to the left side and survived. I can still hear the bitter weeping that sounded from homes of the ghetto.
During so-called Children’s Action I was fortunate to conceal you in my friend’s kitchen. She put up wallpaper and camouflaged the door that led to the kitchen. She covered that wall with pots and pans and the Germans overlooked it. There were other mothers and children in this hideout. They put pressure on me to take you out from the hiding place since you were suffering from whooping cough. I would stuff a towel in your mouth whenever we heard the Germans approaching. It was a ‘Nes’, a miracle, that we were not discovered.
After this event I feared letting you out of the house. I was even afraid of the neighbours whose children had already been taken away. When they asked me where my daughter was, I’d say ‘same place as yours’. You were a bright girl and knew to crawl under the table when someone knocked at the door. I laid a long tablecloth over this table to conceal you. We knew that we had not yet seen the last of these ‘actions’ and we started considering ways of getting you out of danger. We understood that if there was at least a small chance that you would survive it was in a caring Lithuanian home. We opted therefore to give you to virtually whoever would accept. We would even have given you to gypsies.
Occasionally we managed to smuggle things out of the ghetto and exchange them for food. One day, your father managed to bring home butter. Usually, butter obtained in this way would be filled with sawdust, but on this occasion the butter was genuine. On the basis of her evident honesty, your father decided to find the woman who had supplied us this butter and ask if she might help us.
We lived in one room with four other families and, when they had all fallen asleep, your father told me that he had found this woman and that she was willing to take you. I was horrified at the thought of separation but he urged me to meet her. Her name was Anelė Janavičienė. She looked like a simple woman; she brought bread rolls with her that she had baked especially for you. She took me into her home which was a small room in a very modest house. Anelė subsisted by trading goods. I asked her how we could pay her for her assistance, others had wanted only gold. She looked at me with surprise, saying for this one does not charge. She warned me that she would not be able to keep you for long, that she would teach you to speak Lithuanian and then send you to her friend in a different village.
Your father and I had to figure out how we would manage to get you out of the ghetto. We bribed the guard. Moshe pretended that he had to deliver bread to the ghetto and to do this he required a carriage and a sack. The sack was filled with hay, you were sedated and we covered your face with muslin. You fell asleep but awoke not far from the gate and started asking us in Yiddish where you were being taken to. We had to turn back.
The following day, I dressed in my best outfit, removed the yellow star and begged you to stay quiet as we left the ghetto. We crossed the river in a boat and arrived at Anelė’s home. As soon as we entered, my heart stopped: a Gestapo’s army uniform hung on her wall. Upon seeing my expression, Anelė tried to assure me that the uniform belonged to her lover, that there was no cause for concern and that I must calm down. I stayed with you the first night and the next day returned to the ghetto alone. Though a bond was struck instantly between you and Anelė and I could see that you loved her, the sight of the Gestapo uniform continued to disturb me.
Anelė’s neighbours very quickly began to suspect that you were a Jewish child and Anelė, having changed your name to Marytė Janavičiūtė transferred you to the friend who lived in a different village.
The ghetto was liquidated. I was taken to Stutthof, your father was sent to Dachau. I found out only after the war that he did not even make it to Dachau. He had jumped off the train.
We always remained in contact with Anelė, she had no family. We wanted to take her to Israel with us but she was not prepared to leave Lithuania. A photograph of her hangs in Polina’s bedroom, we are eternally grateful to her. She had been a special lady. There had not been many of them. Anelė Janavičienė was awarded the title of Righteous Among the Nations after her death.