Pesach in the Concentration Camp

By Dovid Zaklikowski for COLlive and Hasidic Archives

In 1938, Dovid Henoch Zaklikowski of Krashnik, Poland, had everything he wanted: a wonderful wife and family, and a job that provided him with enough money to devote much of his day to Torah study.

When the Nazis arrived, his life was utterly destroyed. Reb Henoch, as he was called, was first deported to the Budzyn concentration camp near his hometown, and later to the infamous Auschwitz death camp.

One Friday evening, as the sun began to set in Auschwitz, a large group of people were in line for the gas chambers, Reb Henoch among them. By then he knew exactly what lay ahead, as he had dealt with the remains of countless people who had been gassed.

As Shabbos approached, he seized the opportunity to fulfill one last mitzvah.

All week he had rationed his meager portion of daily bread for this special moment. Reb Henoch gathered the hard crumbs from his pocket and began reciting the words of the kiddush blessing, “Yom hashishi…”

To the amazement of those around him, his voice rang out clearly, as if he were standing at his own Shabbos table, a beacon of light in the darkness. He completed the blessing, swallowed a crumb and shared the rest with others.

Minutes later, the prisoners were informed by the Nazi guards that the “showers” were out of order. All those present were saved from certain death and sent back to their bunks.

During his time in German captivity, Reb Henoch attempted to maintain Jewish observance as much as possible. At the Budzyn concentration camp, which was more lax than other camps, he was assigned to the carpentry department, where one of his duties was to repair buildings located outside the camp.

“The Germans would always scream at us; thus we began to call them the shreiers [‘screamers,’ in Yiddish],” recalled Tzvi Krohn, who was in the Budzyn camp with Reb Henoch. “In truth, we had no knowledge or experience in carpentry, and we were not working fast enough.”

The Nazi guards would indiscriminately beat the prisoners, and Mr. Krohn recalled that Reb Henoch, with his smile, saved many a Jew from a beating.

Mr. Krohn’s brother worked in a factory not far from Budzyn. Before Pesach, he managed to bake matzahs and send several to his brother. Delighted, Mr. Krohn and Reb Henoch vowed to keep Pesach to their fullest ability.

Their prayers were answered. A kitchen worker who was knowledgeable about the Jewish holidays approached a group of prisoners and offered to give them more soup in lieu of bread on the holiday.

“We were in total shock since he was placing himself in grave danger,” Mr. Krohn said. “It was known that the SS officers would warn the kitchen workers to never change portions or give extras.”

This act of kindness kept Reb Henoch and several others alive during Pesach. On the last day of the holiday, however, in the early morning hours, the guards decided to take the camp on a “walk” in treacherous conditions, a ploy intended to weed out sick and frail prisoners.

The Germans made the Jewish prisoners walk for many hours without rest, while they rode on horseback. The Nazis’ dogs barked viciously at the fatigued group. Those who stumbled or fell, whether from hunger or fatigue, were immediately shot. “This was a traumatic experience that I will never forget,” Mr. Krohn said.

When the survivors arrived back at the camp, terribly weakened, they ravenously ate the bread they were served. “However,” Mr. Krohn remembered, “I will never forget Henoch’s self-sacrifice to not touch the bread until after Pesach ended.”

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