They call me Dina. Dina Mironovna Wasserman. I was raised in a poor Jewish family, but my upbringing was in the spirit of Soviet ideology based on internationalism rather than nationalism, which could not have any place for any prejudices. So, I fell in love with a Russian youth, Nikolai Pronichev, whom I married, becoming Dina Mironovna Pronicheva, giving my nationality in my passport as Russian. We lived in love and happiness for some time, and I gave birth to two children, a boy and a girl. Before the war I was an artist in the special theatre for the teenagers in Kiev.
On the second day of the war, my husband was sent to the front line, and I remained with my two little children and with my old, sick mother. On September 19,1941, Hitler’s army occupied Kiev and from the very first days started to annihilate the entire Jewish population. Rumors, passed from one to another telling us terrible stories of persecution and killings of the Jews were confirmed officially a few days later by posters placed on each corner: “All Jews from Kiev should come with all their belongings to Babi Yar immediately. Whoever will not obey the order will be shot on the spot.”
We did not have the slightest idea where Babi Yar was, but we understood that nothing good would come of it. I dressed my children, the girl, three years of age, and my boy, five, and took them to my Russian mother-in-law. Then I, with my old, sick mother went to the road to Babi Yar following the Germans’ last order. The Jews by the thousands were on the way to Babi Yar. Alongside us marched an old Jew with a snow-white beard, with his tallit and tfilin, praying constantly and reminding me of my beloved father, who use to pray the same way. In front of me was marching a young woman with two children in both her arms. A third child, a little older, holding the woman’s dress, trying with his little feet to keep up. Old and sick women were loaded in farmers’ wagons filled up to the top with sacks and suitcases. Little children cried; elderly people, who could hardly follow the crowd, cried silently. Russian husbands escorted their Jewish wives, and Russian wives escorted their Jewish husbands. We marched from early morning till late in the evening – three days in a row…
Approaching Babi Yar we heard machine guns and terribly inhuman cries. I did not want to tell my mother what was going on. She was marching silently all the time, but I believe she realized what was happening. My mother, a medical doctor, a pediatrician, was a very intelligent and wise person. When we entered the gate of the camp, we were ordered to give up all our documents and leave all our baggage, especially our jewelry. A German approached my mother and with all his forcer pulled off the golden ring from her finger.
Only then did my mother speak: “Denochka, you are Pronicheva, you are Russian, go back to your little children. Your life is with them.” But I could not run away. We were surrounded by German soldiers with machine guns, by Ukrainian policemen with wild dogs, ready to bite anyone trying to escape. I embraced my mother and with tears in my eyes said: “I cannot leave you alone. I will stay with you.” But she shoved me away, ordering with a strong voice, “Go away immediately.” I went to a table at which a heavy-set German was checking all documents and said softly: “I am a Russian.” He carefully examined my passport when one of the Ukrainian policemen said: “Do not believe her. We know her well. She is Jewish.” The German asked me to wait on one side.
I was shocked to see how every few minutes a group of men, women and children were ordered to disrobe and to stand on the edge of a long ravine and…then they were killed by machine guns. I saw it with my own eyes, and although I was standing far away from the ravine, I heard terrible cries and children’s soft voices: “Mama, mama.” I stood there paralyzed, thinking how could people be treated worse than animals and brutally killed for the only crime that they were Jewish. Suddenly I fully realized that the fascists were not human beings but wild animals. I saw a young naked woman feeding a naked baby with her breast, when a Ukrainian policeman grabbed the infant and through it into the ravine. The woman tried to save her baby, running toward the child, but she was killed instantly. This I saw with my own two eyes. I would never believe this could happen. How can anyone believe it?
The German who ordered me to wait guided me to a high-ranking officer and showing him my passport said: “This woman claims to be Russian, but one of the Ukrainian policemen knows her to be a Jewish woman.” The officer examined my passport for a long while and in a harsh tone said: “Dina is not a Russian name. You are Jewish. Take her away.” The policeman ordered me to undress and pushed me towards a hole where a new group was awaiting their destiny. But before shots were fired, probably from great fear, I jumped into the hole on top of dead bodies.
In the beginning, I could not realize what was going on. Who I am? How did I reach the hole? I thought that I lost my senses, but when a new wave of human bodies started to fall down into the hole, I suddenly understood the whole situation with sharp clarity. I started to examine my arms, legs and my entire body just to make sure that I was not wounded at all, and I remained motionless, like a dead person. I was surrounded by dead and gravely wounded people, when I suddenly heard a baby’s cries: “Mamochka.” It sounded like my own little daughter, and I cried bitterly; not able to move. I still heard, from time to time, machine guns and bodies falling one on top of the other. I tried with all my force to push aside the falling corpses to have enough air to breathe, but doing this at long intervals, not to be noticed by the policemen standing outside the huge hole.
I was among thousands and thousands of inert corpses, and I became terribly frightened. Here and there the earth was moving – some of the buried were still alive. I was looking at myself and I was terrified. My thin nightgown, which covered my naked body, was red from blood. I tried to get up but was very weak. I started talking to myself: “Dina, get up, run away, run to your children,” and with all my might I started to run again in the direction of a huge mountain surrounding the huge ravine. Suddenly, I felt some movement behind me and was frightened, but after a while I turned around and heard: “Tetenka. Do not be afraid. They call me Fema. My family name is Schneiderman. I am eleven years old. Take me with you. I am very much afraid of darkness.” I came nearer to the boy. I embraced him wholeheartedly and I cried softly, and the boy pleaded: “Do not cry, tetenka.”
We started to move in deep silence, trying to reach the end of the ravine, helping each other, finally reaching the very top of the huge hole. But when we started to run, we heard shots again and we fell to the ground, afraid to say a word. After a long while I embraced the boy asking him how he felt, but he did not answer. In the deep darkness I started to check his arms, legs, his head. He was motionless – there was no sign of life. I lifted myself to look into his face. He was lying with his eyes closed. I tried a few times to open his eyes, then I understood that the boy was dead. Most probably the shot I heard a few minutes earlier had finished his life forever. I kissed the cold little body, lifted myself with all my strength and started to run as fast as I could, leaving behind me this horrible place called Babi Yar. I permitted myself to stand straight to my full height and suddenly I noticed in the darkness a little house. A cold chill penetrated my whole body, but I overcame my fear, and I silently approached the window, knocking delicately. A half sleepy voice of a woman asked: “Who is there? What do you want?” I answered: “I just ran away from Babi Yar,” and I heard and angry voice: “Go away immediately. I do not want to know you.” And I went running as fast as I could.
