What is true heroism? How does one make a real kiddush Hashem in this world? There are many stories of people who acted admirably during the Holocaust to rescue others and help the survivors. This is the story of the tzaddik, R’ Tzvi Yechezkel Michelson zt”l Hy”d, one of Warsaw’s oldest rabbanim, a member of its Vaad HaRabbanim, and author of Sefer Tirosh V’yitzhar, who at the age of 79 became one of the 700,000 Jews killed in the death camp of Treblinka.
Early in 1942, the Germans first began their systematic raids on the Warsaw Ghetto, snatching Jewish men, women, and children from the warrens in which they had been “resettled” and transporting them to the extermination camps. In the very first of these raids, the Germans, aided by Ukrainian soldiers, surrounded the house in which R’ Tzvi Michelson lived and shouted through their megaphones that all those inside were to come out into the courtyard at once.
All the Jews in the building obeyed the German command—except for R’ Michelson, who refused to budge. Those who would remain in their rooms, he reasoned, would soon be rooted out by the German soldiers. Their travail would not last long; they would be gunned down on the spot, and their bodies would be flung out into the street. There, chances were that other Jews would find them, pile them upon the carts that creaked through the ghetto alleys to collect the dead, and bury them in accordance with Jewish law. Those who would go to the Germans in the courtyard, on the other hand, would be loaded by the storm troopers onto trucks and taken to the death camps. There they would die too, but not without suffering. Even worse, from what the rabbi had heard, they would not be buried at all, but cremated, in violation of the Torah.
And so R’ Michelson prepared himself to meet death as befitted a man of his age and tradition. He put on his tefillin, draped his tallis around his spare body, bolted the door of his room, and sat down to learn, waiting for the Germans to come.
But things did not happen the way he had expected. Yes, the Germans, accompanied by a Jewish Ghetto policeman, kicked open the door and burst into R’ Michelson’s room. But when the storm troopers saw the venerable old man with his long, flowing white beard standing upright before them, stern of countenance and draped from shoulder to foot in his snow-white tallis with the imposing silver atarah, they were immobilized by an awe—indeed, a fear—such as they probably had never known before. Years later, the Ghetto policeman, who survived the war, was to tell the end of the story. “He looked like the prophet Moses himself!” the policeman heard one of the Germans mutter. With that, the German silently turned and led his comrades out of the room, slamming the door and leaving R’ Michelson untouched.
Alone in his little room, the rabbi could hear the babble of the crowd in the courtyard below, mingled with the raucous shouts of the German storm troopers. From his tiny window, he could see the others from his house being shoved onto huge German army trucks. And a thought far more frightening than death came to him. True, he had been granted a miraculous reprieve. But for how long? When the Germans would recover from their surprise, they would return and shoot him. That is how he would die—and he would die alone. In effect, by refusing to leave his room, he had run away like a coward; he had deserted his brethren. Which, he asked himself, was the proper alternative: to die alone, with the unlikely chance that he might be found by some Jewish survivors outside and given a proper Jewish burial, or to go out to his brethren and be with them on their final journey? Which was the proper way for him to die?
It did not take R’ Michelson more than a moment to make his decision. He turned from the window, adjusted his tallis, and strode from the room. With firm steps, he descended the stairs and marched into the courtyard where he joined the others on their way to the Umschlagplatz, the assembly point from where they all were taken to Treblinka. He remained a source of comfort and inspiration to his brethren, and when the end came, he shared in their fate. He is among the millions who have no grave, but he has a lasting memorial in the annals of Jewish valor.
(Excerpted from “The Unconquerable Spirit” – Zachor Institute)
Rabbi Dovid Hoffman is the author of the popular “Torah Tavlin” book series, filled with stories, wit and hundreds of divrei Torah, including the brand new “Torah Tavlin Yamim Noraim” in stores everywhere. You’ll love this popular series. Also look for his book, “Heroes of Spirit,” containing one hundred fascinating stories on the Holocaust. They are fantastic gifts, available in all Judaica bookstores and online at http://israelbookshoppublications.com. To receive Rabbi Hoffman’s weekly “Torah Tavlin” sheet on the parsha, e-mail This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.
