My brother Noach was 2 years old. It was then when he was taken to a hospital. He wasn’t sick. But he was noisy especially when he cried. Noach, his three brothers, Yehuda, Koppel (Jack) and Berish (Barry) and my father (Shimon) were together with about 80 Jews hiding in an underground bunker in the middle of Nazi occupied Drohobycz (in what was then Poland). It was the 1st of three bunkers built by my uncle Aron.
(Aron was a genius. He managed to build a bunker for 80 people that had running water, heat, showers, and bathrooms connected to the sewer system where they would also get air and would be able to use to use as a means to escape should they be discovered.)
Needless to say, the people hiding in that bunker believed that Noach's cries would end up giving them away and get them all killed. So they begged my father to do something about it. A decision was made to place Noach in a hospital where he would surely be safe. He wasn’t safe. He was murdered shortly after he was admitted.
Not long after, that bunker was discovered and those hiding scrambled to escape through the sewers. My father his 2 brothers (Aron and Joseph) and the 3 remaining sons escaped to the forest where Aron managed to dig a makeshift bunker underground. That bunker was discovered too. More about that later.
There was a 3rd bunker built before this makeshift bunker while Aron was still in the 1st bunker. Another group of Jews had asked Aron to help build a smaller version of the one he was in and he agreed. It was built underneath the basement of a righteous gentile by the name of Ivan Burr who supplied them with food. Here is the rest of the story (somewhat paraphrased and abridged) from Entombed, a book written by Bernard Mayer, one of the survivors in that bunker:
The doorbell rang and Ivan answered it. 5 people were there claiming to be Aron’s family. They knew about the bunker and asked to be let in. My father, two of his sons, Jack and Barry, his brother Joseph and a young man by the name of Elie were standing there all smelling of excrement. They were let in and given pails of water to bathe in and given clean underwear. My father then sat on the bed sobbing and told them his harrowing story:
We had a difficult time in the forest. Getting food was a problem. ‘Eventually Mrs. Zuk, the forest ranger’s wife took pity on us. “It was an awkward situation. Her husband had no interest in helping us But she had a good heart. We paid her and she agreed to supply us with corn, barley, bread, and potatoes. Her husband didn’t want to get involved with us and even scolded her for getting us food. We would go into the house when he wasn’t around and pick up the food she had prepared for us.
We cooked at night and slept during the day. During the day, no one would venture outside. It was always dark in the bunker although during the day, some light seeped in through the twigs covering the bunker. Many of us developed diarrhea and used a big hole dug inside the bunker for a toilet. There was of course no privacy.
By the end of November the first snow fell and we had to be careful not to go outside and create footsteps in the snow. One of the people in that bunker had developed a severe case of diarrhea and was embarrassed to use that toilet so often. So he kept going outside even though Aron had tried to stop him. No one could hold him back.
Some farmers noticed the footprints. 3 days ago early in the morning Ukrainian and German police surrounded out bunker. They were shooting all over. And then it stopped. Nobody moved. One fellow stuck his head out from among the twigs and was shot in the head.
Aron realized that we were all doomed and said we should all jump into the toilet filled with excrement and hide there until the police left. Problem was that there was not enough room for all of us. Yehudah and a few others were left out and captured while these 5 people laid in that hole on top of each other. Aron had already decided to stay out and cover that hole with twigs and then make a run for it. He was shot on the spot.
We stayed in that hole for 2 days until we were sure the police left. They had stayed on to retrieve items left behind in the bunker while marveling its the construction and showing it to the townspeople . And then we made our way to this bunker.
They were eventually liberated by the Russians. This is how my father and my two surviving brothers survived the war.
Which leads me to Tisha B’Av and Kina number 7. In a somewhat shocking manner, God is challenged and asked, ‘How could you?’ How could you do this to your people?! Rav Soloveitchick explains that Halacha does not permit impertinence towards God.
We have no right to ask God these kinds of questions, says the Rav. We are supposed to have unquestioning acceptance of his will. Whether for good or for bad. When tragedy strikes, we say ‘Blessed is the true Judge’. Yet here this very question is asked on Tisha B’Av.
Rav Soloveitchick explains that God gave us permission to ask this on Tisha B’Av. We are following the precedent of Jeremiah. God in fact told Jeremiah to write Eicha. The reason for this is because it is an expression of mourning for the loss of the Batei Mikdash.
When reading this earlier today I could not help thinking that these horror stories that took place during the destruction of the Batei Mikdash were strikingly similar to stories that took place during the Holocaust. Rav Soloveitchik even tells us of a friend whose wife suffered an almost identical fate during the Holocaust described in one of the Kinos that happened during the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash.
How can I not ask this question when these same horrors were repeated 2000 years later? Especially knowing what happened to my own family!
I realize of course that the Holocaust did not involve the loss of the Beis Hamikdash. But what about all the great centers of Torah study that were destroyed? And what about the unfathomable number Jews that were systematically killed in gas chambers and then cremated? How can I not ask why God allowed six million of His people to perish, including great Torah leaders of that generation? And allowed countless others to live through that torture and survive - but scarred for life?
I have no answers. No one does. And I will remain forever with that question.