Hunger Does Not Spare

The Warsaw Ghetto in Muranow, once a place of trauma, now appears peaceful, with quiet streets and parks. However, the memories of the 400,000 people who perished there during the liquidation of the ghetto in 1943 remain. The photo diary of an anonymous author provides a unique perspective on the events of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. The author describes the daily struggles and dangers faced by those living in the bunker, including fires, overcrowding, and hunger. Despite the difficult conditions, the author marvels at their ability to survive for three weeks. The diary ends with the realization that the liquidation of the Warsaw Jews is imminent, and the author witnesses the destruction of the ghetto by fire. Hunger does not spare. Traces of the Warsaw Ghetto in Muranow today are scarce. Streets lined with delicate trees and shady courtyards disguise a traumatic past that nevertheless pervades every corner. The melancholic vibes of Muranow belie its tortured past. Hidden from the hustle of the city, its quiet streets and parks offer shade and moments of tranquility that sit for a moment and the memories begin to call out. Following the liquidation of the ghetto in 1943, the entire area was razed to the ground. The souls of some 400,000 people vanished as though they never had existed at all. The words accompanying this short photo essay are taken from a diary discovered after the war. The anonymous author describes her experiences in the ghetto and provides a perspective that is often missing from more well-established narratives of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. The Sixth Day April 24, 1943 Quiet, until 12 o'clock. Alarm, the Germans are in our building. Luckily it passes and we sleep on. Our schedule is turned upside down. We sleep during the day, cook, and eat at night. We are in an air-raid shelter, a great silence prevails. It's 8 o'clock, steps can be heard outside the shelter. Someone knocks on the door. For several minutes there is great anxiety. The people knocking at the door are Mr. and Mrs. Rosenheim. They raise the alarm that the building is on fire. All young people go out to the courtyard. The building is in flames, the front of it was set on fire. People's houses are burning. We set out to extinguish the flames. We immediately open tanks of water, which we pour on the apartments above us. We look through the window and see that the ghetto is burning, entirely in flames. The Eighth Day April 26, 1943 Our building continues to burn. The building on the side of Zamenhof Street, where people were in hiding, is also on fire. People are running away from there and are coming to us, a difficult, catastrophic situation is developing. The shelter has become crowded due to the large number of people, and more would like to enter. They storm the shelter and beg to be allowed in. People shout and argue amongst themselves, they all want to get into the shelter. Meanwhile, giving any permission to enter is difficult. Around morning the situation clears up somewhat, and many people are placed in the other shelters. Some are placed in the shelter of Mr. Sova and Mr. Rosenheim, the rest are placed with us. The Ninth Day April 27, 1943 The owners of the bunker sit down for a conference. The topic of discussion is the people who arrived from other bunkers and have nothing to eat, because they have no reserves of foodstuff. Aside from that, arguments reign in the bunker, and there's a great tumult. In the presence of Jan, who arrived with the other people, a decision was made. Every day an additional bowl of soup and cup of coffee will be given out to each person. The rations will be distributed by the eldest, that is to say, those who prepare the food. The supervisor is chosen for the distribution of food who had done this before. Everyone is satisfied with this arrangement. Next, several people were chosen to impose order in the bunker. And in addition to this, a guard duty was established, Piotr was chosen to be in charge. In this fashion the day came to a close, at six o'clock everyone lay on the beds, if, in our circumstances, one can call them beds, in my bed they put a small boy. He was so agitated, he tossed and turned so much, throwing himself in his sleep, that my side began to hurt, but thank God, the day passed peacefully. Suddenly a crack, a hand grenade exploded nearby. People rise, but in the next moments the deepest silence prevails. The enemy is around our building, looking for us. Our only means of defense is to maintain the greatest of silence. The eleventh day. April 29, 1943. It was a very dangerous night. At 4 p.m. the enemy threw a grenade at our basement. The effect was enormous. In the front wall, a hole opened up, the size of a finger, they say that the enemy has laid an explosive device, our neighbor, sober, had the exact same kind of night. He had a hand grenade tear open his roof. Thank God everything turned out fine. The day was normal. Hygiene is at the highest level we can manage. It seems that when a man awakens from a deep sleep, he begins to think realistically. He begins to think about escape to the non-Jewish side of the war. Whoever has the opportunity begins to prepare for this. These are real thoughts, but not possible for everyone. Indeed, it is not possible to survive here in our basement for a long period of time. Above all, the air is unpleasant and as a result, the lice and overcrowding prevail. What is left to be done? To leave and risk your life, or to stay and die here? He who has the opportunity and has the courage to escape should do that, but it is necessary to wait a couple of days. If the enemy retreats from his attacks, the opportunity for flight will increase. And for this, we wait. The 12th Day April 30, 1943 The day passed normally. At night we all were terribly afraid. The enemy is searching for us everywhere. He listens in, knocks, circles about everywhere. Our means of defense is to maintain the greatest silence and calm. On Saturday night we had many hours of unrest. The enemy was active from 11 o'clock in the morning, all day. People could not sleep because of the hand grenade explosions. Finally, after five days, I once again take up my pencil. Five difficult and tragic days have passed, difficult in every respect. In this short time we have lived through so very much. Our living conditions, from the moment we entered were very poor, and especially from the moment we took in 45 additional people. The majority of these had no food or provisions. The situation worsened however. When on Monday, at midnight, the power station shut off the electricity, we now face a difficult problem. How will we be able to cook? The majority of our supplies cannot be used if not cooked. The reason is simple. We have no stoves that connect to the chimney. The leaders of the bunker discussed this problem for three days, in the meantime an argument broke out amongst them. The argument reached such proportions that brothers fought with their sisters, friends with friends. Hunger didn't spare anyone. The argument was so loud that it was certainly possible to hear it outside the bunker. The situation was both terrible and dangerous, and it didn't seem like there was any solution. All of our attempts were frustrated, we were helpless. All of our experts and people who had some sort of background in the matter gathered to confer how to solve the problem of releasing the smoke. The emotional state of people is getting critical. They can't withstand the situation. They lie on the ground in a partial state of unconsciousness. The children especially, have been affected. Three days have already passed, three days without hot food. This situation, to a large degree, affects the disputes between people. The problem of the kitchen has still not been solved. Everyone was of a different opinion. Despite the long quarrels and arguments, the kitchen was finally set up, and an exit was found for the smoke. It is now forbidden for anyone to converse, in order to maintain the silence, for every question one receives crude and offensive answers. People in the bunker, in contrast to their previous behavior, have adopted a very insensitive manner of behaving. Our lives are currently in danger, and the quality of life is very low. People are half-naked, badly dressed. They run by in a melancholy manner along the stone floor. They are not able to live, but they are also not able to die. I myself am surprised how it is possible that we have been able to live and survive three weeks in such conditions. We know very well what sort of an action this is, because it was announced in advance. This is the liquidation of the Warsaw Jews, and with it, our end and our destruction. The Germans used to attack us this whole time at night. Now they are broadening their attacks to the daytime, as well. Therefore we have to keep quiet on our plank beds, so that the enemy doesn't hear where we are. At night, however, it is possible to dare to go out to the street. The day passed well, to the sound of shots from machine guns and the explosion of grenades. I go out to the street. It's burning. Everything around is going up in flames. The streets, Miele, Samenhof, Curza, Nalewki, Lubecki, in short, all the streets are on fire. The majority of workshops are burning, warehouses, stores, and whole buildings. The whole ghetto is a sea of flames. There is a strong wind that fans the flames and carries sparks from burning buildings to those that are not burning and immediately destroys everything. A shocking picture. The fire expands to such an extent that people do not have time to run from their homes and tragically die in them.