In Russia during World War I, after the outbreak of the Communist Revolution, I was in the army in a town in South Russian. Kerensky’s army had collapsed, the town was conquered by the Communists and I wanted to return to my town of Babryusk, in White Russian. After difficulties and adventures I arrived in Moscow and from there I wanted to travel to Babryusk. The German front was between Moscow and Babryusk, close to Warsaw and of course the route was blocked.

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I wandered around Moscow for a week and I met several Jews from my town. One of them told me that there was a group dealing with transfer of people from one area of Russia to another. We jumped at the opportunity. We got into contact with a gentile farmer, who was prepared to transport us in return for payment. It was the end of winter, we all put on famers clothing and we started off. It was terribly cold. I became sick en route with a sore throat, and as a result of this I lost my voice.

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The route took about one week, when we were travelling mainly at night. On one of the nights we even passed the front lines, without them noticing us.

We advanced towards Babyrusk and one evening we arrived. I lost count of how many days had passed and I didn’t know what day it was. When I arrived at my parents’ home I opened the door and was dazzled by a strong light. I understood that all the members of my large family were sitting around the table. It was Seder Night. My mother ran to me and touched me all over. She had had a dream that I was in a battle and I had lost an arm. False dreams speak for themselves. The excitement and the happiness of all my family and me – was indescribable. It was a Seder of spiritual uplifting