On December 1, 1941, I was on duty at guard post 4 on Hohensteinerstrasse from 1400 hrs. until 1600 hrs. Around 1500 hrs. I noticed a Jewish woman walking along the ghetto border. She stuck her head out between the bars and was trying to steal turnips from a parked cart. I fired my rifle. The Jewish woman was mortally wounded.
Type of firearm: carbine 98
Ammunition used: two cartridges
Signed:
Naumann
Reserve Guard
1st Company, Ghetto Bn.
Type of firearm: carbine 98
Ammunition used: two cartridges
1st Company, Ghetto Bn.
I always have trouble falling asleep after I perform at a concert. It keeps playing in my mind, like a tape going round and round. I was more keyed up than usual because this concert had been special: it marked the two hundredth anniversary of Mozart’s death. The recital was held in Krakow, a city of wonderful musicians, in a makeshift auditorium in the bellísima Casa Veneciana. The extreme cold had kept us from visiting much of the art-strewn city; but at noon, when the fog lifted and the sun appeared, I was able to slip out of the hotel for a stroll along Ryneck Glowny.
The concert was dedicated to Mozart, but the pianist in our trio, Virgili Stancu, had reluctantly accepted the Polish organizers’ suggestion to include Chopin’s preludes for the first part of our program. This he did with his usual virtuosity, his fingers well acquainted with the pieces. For the second part, he and I played the Sonata in B-flat, which Mozart had written for Regina Strinasacchi, the violinist he had so admired. We stayed after completing our part in order to hear the orchestra’s impeccable interpretation of the Sinfonia Concertante, K. 364. It was a wonderful piece that highlighted the rich flats while subtly suggesting the dramatic nature behind the wise, graciously intertwined phrases.
