Defiant girl grows up to tell the Bielskis’ story

Oakhurst survivor recalls heroism of Jewish partisans

Helen Terris, who lived with the Bielski brothers’ partisans during the Holocaust, holds a poster for Defiance, a film based on the three men who saved the lives of 1,200 Jews.

Helen Terris, who lived with the Bielski brothers’ partisans during the Holocaust, holds a poster for Defiance, a film based on the three men who saved the lives of 1,200 Jews.

Photo by Jill Huber

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As someone who survived the Nazis by fleeing into the woods as a six-year-old, Helen Cydrerowicz Terris knows the meaning of the word “defiance.”

She also knows firsthand the risks and heroism represented by Jewish partisans — the same group whose wartime exploits are depicted in the current feature film Defiance. (See related story, Montville survivor stands proud in face of Defiance)

Terris, who lives in Oakhurst, and her mother, Esia Cydrerowicz, fled the Nazis and sought refuge with the Bielski brothers’ partisans. They were among the 1,200 Jews whose lives were saved by the group and whose experiences inspired the new film.

Terris was born in 1935 in Lida; the city was then part of Poland, but is now claimed by Belarus. Her parents, Esia and Arkady Cydrerowicz, were prominent among the 12,000 members of Lida’s Jewish community.

Life changed in June 1941, when the Germans invaded the city and imposed their iron grip on the Jewish population. The Jews were herded into a ghetto and their businesses were appropriated. Jews were not permitted to attend school or to speak to non-Jews and were forced to walk in the gutters rather than on the sidewalks. A death sentence was the punishment for any infraction, Terris said.

The roundups began in late 1941, and in early 1942, her father was shot during one such action. Terris and her mother heard about mass executions taking place in a nearby forest. On May 8, much of the ghetto population was heralded to the town square and were made to pass by the German guards.

“If you were told to go to the left, it meant the Germans felt you would be useful to them,” said Terris. “It meant life. But if the selection process sent you to the right, it meant death. My mother and I were sent to the right.”

As they were force-marched toward mass graves in the woods, they passed the bodies of hundreds of Jews who had been shot while trying to escape. Screams and the sound of gunshots filled the air.

Helen Terris and her mother, Esia, were photographed in 1944 in Lida.

Helen Terris and her mother, Esia, were photographed in 1944 in Lida.

Photo courtesy Helen Terris

“My mother and I took a risk and ran to a nearby house, where we saw three dead men,” said Terris. “My mother covered both of us in their blood and we lay down next to them. We didn’t dare breathe.

“In the Holocaust, you had to take chances.”

As they lay there, two German soldiers came and stood in the spilled blood, smoking cigarettes. When they saw Terris move slightly; they grabbed her and placed a gun to her head.

“Then they said, ‘Why waste a bullet,’ since I was going to die anyway,’” she said. “They finished their cigarettes and walked away. I’ve always wondered what kind of mentality would allow people to act this way.”

Bielski lifeline

While 5,000 Jews were killed that day — which became known as the Slaughter of May 8 — mother and daughter hid in the ghetto. But in September 1943, another liquidation process took place, and this time, Terris and her mother were marched to a railroad station, where a train was preparing to depart for the death camps. Once again they ran, but were separated during the chaos.

By chance, the two were reunited on a nearby farm. They knew their only chance to survive was to join a partisan group in the woods near Lida. The partisans were led by brothers Tuvia, Asael, and Zus Bielski, who had created a partisan village that eventually sheltered 1,200 Jews. There were communal kitchens and living quarters and a makeshift school and synagogue. As the Germans searched for them, the partisans collected weapons and blew up German targets. Finally, in July 1944, the region was liberated by the Russian army.

Terris and her mother, who spent the next three years in a displaced persons camp in Austria, never saw the Bielskis again (the three brothers are now deceased). The two arrived in the United States in 1949, where Terris met her future husband, Harry, whom she married in 1955. For 50 years, she rarely spoke about her wartime experiences.

“Then, about seven years ago, my granddaughter was assigned to write a school essay about someone they considered a hero,” said Terris. “She chose me because I had survived. Then the school asked me to speak to the students. I told them everything.”

She now fulfills regular speaking engagements, has contributed to Steven Spielberg’s Shoa testimony project, and attends memorial services that commemorate the Slaughter of May 8.

“I’m gratified that I can keep the Bielskis alive by speaking in public. They were our lifeline,” Terris said. “And the victims — they can’t speak for themselves, but now they won’t be forgotten. It’s still hard for me to talk about the Holocaust, but when I speak to an audience, I am perpetuating their memories. That makes it a little easier.”

 

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