Rachela Zelmanowicz-Olewski

The Mandolin Player of Auschwitz-Birkenau

“They established the orchestra not for us, they made the orchestra for themselves. Let’s say, you can imagine a whole camp goes out to work…Imagine how slow they would march without the orchestra.”

Rachela Zelmanowicz-Olewski

In her 1984 testimony, as recorded in Hebrew by Yad Vashem in Israel and later translated into English by her family, Rachela Zelmanowicz-Olewski reflected: “I tell you, I arrived to the conclusion that it’s all a matter of luck, of fate and luck.” To a large extent, this seems to be true of Rachela’s experiences during the Holocaust, but her willingness to survive by any means necessary also demonstrates a level of courage and creativity in the most extreme circumstances, that cannot be attributed to luck or fate alone.

Born in Będzin, Poland, Rachela Zelmanowicz was one month shy of her eighteenth birthday when the war broke out in 1939. After her family was forcibly relocated to the Bedzin ghetto, she was deported to Auschwitz-Birkenau where she was encouraged to join the camp’s women’s orchestra, as led by the Viennese musician Alma Rosé. Playing the mandolin kept her alive for fifteen months before she was deported to Bergen-Belsen. After her liberation, she started a family and then made Aliyah to Israel. Although she did not pursue a career as a musician after the war, she made sure that her home was filled with music and that her children would appreciate the beauty and importance of music, which ultimately saved her life. She also remained close to a number of musicians from the orchestra and contributed to the Bergen-Belsen Survivors’ Organisation of which her husband Rafael was chairman. Although Rachela died in 1987, her life has since inspired a number of commemorative works, including the performance of a piece entitled “Rachela’s Mandolin” by Jacob Reuven in 2021.

Rachela’s story is an important example of how “ordinary” people honed their existing skills to survive the unthinkable. Moreover, her role as witness and her experience of performing with the women’s orchestra of Auschwitz is testament to the bravery of these individuals who managed to perform beautiful music in a landscape of death and suffering. Their talents helped them to survive not only physically, but also spiritually. Now, with the help of her daughter Jochi Ritz-Olewski and her son Arie Olewski, the translated memories of Rachela can be shared publicly, helping to keep her memory alive.

Pre-war Life in Poland

Rachel Zelmanowicz-Olewski (née Zelmanowicz) was born into a proud Jewish family on 8 October 1921 in Będzin, a city in the Silesian Voivodeship of Southern Poland. Her father, Leibek (Yehuda-Leib) Zelmanowicz worked as an accountant for David Zmigrod, one of the most affluent Jews in the region. He was also responsible for the public letting of Zmigrod’s many apartments when he met her mother, Jocheved (née Londner). Jocheved’s mother, Beila, owned a sweet shop (“cukiernia”), which her granddaughter would regularly enjoy visiting. Her older brother, Dov-Beniek (Zalman-Ber) studied agriculture, and was the commander of the Beitar Movement in Będzin. The family lived on Stanisława Małachowskiego street, close to the centre of town. Before the Holocaust, Będzin had a vibrant Jewish community which, according to the 1921 Polish census, numbered 17,298 people, or 62.1% of the city’s total population.

Rachela was a shy child, with a slim build and poor eating habits. After attending a public school, she later studied at the Fürstenberg Hebrew Gymnasium, and became a member of the Zionist youth movement “Hanoar Hatsioni”. She loved cinema, regularly attending local film screenings, and enjoyed Polish novels, which she read secretly under her desk in Hebrew lessons. Despite attending a Hebrew school, her Polish language was exemplary, and she also became fluent in German. She was described by her family as a “daydreamer” with a vivid imagination, who fiercely enjoyed life. Her parents, whom she remembered as being intelligent, caring and “on trend”, provided everything she needed at the time. She loved music and was able to learn instruments quickly, although at the time this was only one of her many interests. She learned to play the mandolin in primary school. All in all, she had a peaceful and happy childhood, with a family who lived freely as Jews and who prospered from their life in Poland. This would, however, change dramatically after the German invasion on 1st September 1939, a month before Rachela’s eighteenth birthday.

Outbreak of War and Będzin Ghetto

Within the first week of the German invasion of Poland, Nazi soldiers had entered the city of Będzin. During this time, Rachela’s brother, Dov, was serving in the Polish army, and the family heard no news, hoping that he would return amongst the other Polish prisoners of war taken back across the German border. He was eventually released and returned home. At the same time, the situation for the Jewish community of Będzin deteriorated rapidly. Terror immediately broke out in the streets, and on 8th September 1939, the Germans set fire to the synagogue during services, killing those who tried to flee. In 1940, Jews living in the city centre were forcibly relocated to outlying districts, although the ghetto was only officially designated in October 1942, spanning across the two impoverished neighbourhoods of Kamionka and Mała Środula, adjacent to the Sosnowiec ghetto. The area, guarded by the Jewish police, was never surrounded by a wall or fence. Although Rachela recalls her girlfriends getting dressed up and socialising in the streets, her brother warned her and her parents to stay indoors to avoid round-ups. At the insistence of his girlfriend Ruszka Rembiszewska, he had joined the Jewish police in order to provide a better life for his family and friends. They were moved from their large apartment to much smaller shared housing complex in the newly established Jewish district of Kamionka. Rachela together with many other young Jews in Shop-Rossner, worked learning to sew and producing garments. She believed that her labour card would keep her protected, and her father worked too. Then, in 1940, her mother died unexpectedly due to the damp living conditions of their cramped accommodations, which aggravated her arthritis. From this time on, deportations to and from the ghetto continued, with many Jews being sent to their deaths in the “Aktion Reinhard” camps throughout Poland. During the last major roundup in Będzin, her brother Beniek was captured and on 1st August, he was deported to Auschwitz-Birkenau. When they saw the Germans approaching, he had already managed to hide his sister and father in their makeshift bunker in the wall of the apartment, hidden behind a closest, before they entered the residence. He claimed he did not know where his family were, and was taken alone. She and her father remained in the hole for three days with a only bucket of water along with other residents in the building, but later faced the same fate. On 3rd August 1943, Rachela arrived at the camp. On the same day, there was a revolt in the ghetto, in which Jews rose up against their captors. Almost all the remaining Jews, including the resistance fighter, were killed and the ghetto liquidated.

Arrival at Auschwitz-Birkenau

The heat of the journey to Oswiecim was almost unbearable, with nothing to drink. Although there had been rumours and whispers, the arriving transport did not know what to expect when the train rolled through the gates of Birkenau and assumed that their ghetto work permits would lead to work. At the entrance, the reality of the situation became clear when the father of Rachela’s closest friend lay his head in his hands and informed them that the guards had shot his daughter because she tried to present her work permit.

After months in the ghetto, Rachela was already thin and in poor health. Her bad eating habits would, in fact, help her to survive on almost nothing in the camp. On the day they arrived to Auschwitz her father had just celebrated his 53rd birthday, and assured her that he would be fine, just before he was separated with the rest of the men from the transport and was sent directly to the gas chambers. Before they were separated, her father gave her a small bag of valuables and told her to share it with her brother, should she meet him there. Fortunately, her brother’s girlfriend Ruszka was with her, and told her to walk upright and look strong and healthy, as Rachela recalled: “She was – you know – a leader, she had the power of leadership….even in Auschwitz – it was thanks to her that I survived. She was this kind of person who can make a decision.”

After a lengthy selection process, she and the other “chosen/selected” female arrivals were taken to the ‘Sauna’, where their heads were shaved and they were given clothes– a rag of a dress and wooden clogs which were stolen from her later that night. She handed over all of her jewellery and valuables, and her prisoner number “△52816” was forcibly tattooed on her forearm.  The addition of the triangle symbol marked her identity as a Jew. According to her testimony, her tattoo was particularly large due to the resentment of prisoners in charge of this task who had been in the camp for a longer period of time. They entered Block 15 of the A-Lager which housed almost a thousand other prisoners and were given a small piece of bread and water. After a while, Nazi guards entered the barracks and asked: “Who can play an instrument?”. Rachela did not respond, until Ruszka encouraged her to do so: “I said, are you crazy? I am here in Auschwitz! I was playing the mandolin in primary school, that’s what I know.” Ruszka promptly reminded her that she had nothing to lose, and that she might get a chance to see her brother, and that at least one of them should try to survive. And so, despite her modest musical skills, Rachela volunteered herself for the role.

The Women’s Orchestra

Rachela was immediately taken to the location of the Auschwitz-Birkenau women’s orchestra. Alma Rosé, a prominent Viennese violinist and conductor (or “Kapellmeister”) of the group, gave her some music/notes and instructed her to play. She remembers: “I didn’t remember of course, how to read it. I knew a little bit about notes, but I had forgotten about the rhythm. So I sat next to a Greek women, and this Greek woman told me how to play after Alma Rosé told her: ‘You show her how to play!’” The “Greek woman” was called Julie Stroumsa and was one of the forty musicians who had joined the orchestra on their arrival. The women, most of them Jewish, came from all over Europe and spoke many languages. There were also non-Jews from Poland, France, the Netherlands and Belgium. Julie helped Rachela learn the new notes: “As she played – I have a good ear for music – I caught the rhythm immediately. Julie was giving me the rhythm; she simply helped me to stay in the orchestra.” She was permitted to join as a mandolin player, and given her instrument, later concluding that “In general, this was a real orchestra with many qualified musicians.” They practiced daily, performing at the will of the camp guards:

“In the morning, we stood for Appell [roll call] inside the block. To avoid it, we sat all day and played, and we were having rehearsal and another rehearsal and more rehearsal. And always there were visitors of SS men, Gestapo men, whoever were in the camp. The entire orchestra was the “baby” of [Franz] Hössler. He loved the orchestra.”

In addition to the regular Sunday concerts for the SS, the orchestra also performed for Nazi officers, who could request a concert at a moment’s notice.

Rachela describes Alma Rosé as a stern woman, who ran a tight ship with her performers, and worked them hard: “For every mistake that someone did in the orchestra, we had to stand silently as a punishment. Alma heard; she heard everything. No one could hear as well as she did. Who was as expert as she?” She often used curt language and expressions to express her frustration with their playing. Alma played first violin accompanied by a teenage girl who played second violin. The group performed a variety of musical numbers by Saraste, Monti, Czardash, Beethoven, and waltzes by Strauss. Alma would correct them if they were “missing the swing”, reminding them that before the war she had practiced for “eight hours a day” at the wrath of her father. According to Rachela, Alma would forget where she was when she was playing. She was also not afraid to go against the wishes of the SS, testing the limits of their patience by performing forbidden songs, adapting them with her own lyrics. The group was forced to play chansons and light music, and to translate any foreign pieces into German – the only language permitted.

However, not all members of the group shared this sentiment, and did not care if there were small mistakes given the circumstances in which they found themselves. Like Rachela, they were not all professionals, and did not bear the same level of passion or skill as others in the orchestra. There was also “professional jealousy” among the women, especially between those who had had fruitful careers in music before the war.  But, for those who were not so enthused about the performances, it passed the time and ultimately saved many of their lives: “We always thought of one thing: that some day this will be over, that some day this will come to an end, for better or worse.” Despite the more questionable elements of Alma’s character, Rachela remembered her as a “fantastic conductor” who truly succeeded in making something of their orchestra. Indeed, Alma even had dreams of starting an orchestra together after the war.

In exchange for their talents, they received slightly better living conditions than other inmates. The women lived together and formed a close bond, although several testimonies recall tensions between the Jewish and non-Jewish members, as well as jealously from other camp inmates of their privileges. The musicians’ barracks had its own toilet, heater and practising rooms. The oven helped protect the instruments from cold and moisture. However, they were not exempt from the fate of those around them. They often witnessed killings and the violent torture of prisoners. Moreover, their block was close to the gas chambers and crematorium, and they could hear children crying out for their mothers and Jewish youth singing “Hatikvah.” On one occasion, one of the musicians became sick with typhus and was taken to the “hospital”, only to be killed in the crematorium. According to Rachela, Alma Rosé was deeply concerned that this would happen again, and informed the authorities: “Listen, you are destroying the orchestra! If there is typhus in the camp and each time you will take one of the girls, then…” After this incident, an order was issued forbidding anyone to touch a member of the orchestra. As Rachela noted: “They established the orchestra not for us, they made the orchestra for themselves.”

This new “rule” was put to the test when Rachela herself contracted the disease. In a gut-wrenching interaction with infamous SS-Doctor Josef Mengele, he stood next to her and asked what was wrong with her, but the workers in the infirmary informed him that she was part of the orchestra, and he continued on his way. On this encounter with Mengele, she earnestly described him as “Gorgeous. What a man! He was like a movie star, young, handsome. We all knew him.” Fortunately, she recovered and resumed her role in the group. The orchestra played every morning for the female prisoners as they were marched to their labour assignments, stating that it aided the Nazis with their efficiency:

“Let’s say,  you can imagine a whole camp goes out to work. Imagine how slow they would march without the orchestra. They marched according to the march tune’s rhythm. What went there in one hour could have lasted for several hours…So they placed us forward, near the gate. Every morning we sat and played the march when they went out to work.”

Their presence also gave strength to those who heard the music. At the same time, the upbeat welcome deceived new arrivals: a deliberate move of the camp authorities. The women’s orchestra also included singers, such as a Russian paratrooper who arrived at the camp with her “comrade”, who was a talented pianist. There was also a German soprano opera singer named Doris Wilamowska – “a prima donna of the opera of Berlin” – who had a tremendous voice. Even during a bout of typhus, the SS took her from her sickbed to perform for visiting members of the Gestapo and, barely able to stand, she managed to sing a song by Sarasate. Rachela painfully recalled another instance in which Yvette Assael, a Greek bass player and sister of Julie, began to cry when she saw the condition of the prisoners marching. A member of the Gestapo approached her and said “Everyone must smile. You are forbidden to cry here!”

Remarkably, she saw her brother twice during her incarceration. She did not immediately recognise him; his time there had left him “skinny and broken”, but he recognised his sister. In a desperate meeting, he asked her to send him bread; she ran to her block to get some and when she returned, he was gone. Since his arrival in Auschwitz, he had been part of a labour unit working outside of the camp. However, after the large arrival of Hungarian Jews in 1944, he was selected as part of the new “Sonderkommando”. Through her connections in the orchestra, she tried everything she could to help him, to no avail. They communicated via letters, which she hid in the ground near to her block. These letters were never found.

Alma Rosé eventually met her untimely death in the camp. According to the testimony of Rachela, she was poisoned – possibly by order of the camp authorities. The mystery surrounding her death continues to this day. After her death, one of the Russian musicians took over as conductor, but the orchestra did not continue as before. Rachela expected that she too would die in Auschwitz. She remained in touch with her brother throughout, who knew that his Sonderkommando unit was due to be killed. Although it was only after the war that she learned specific information from other survivors that her brother was killed during the Sonderkommando uprising on 7th October 1944, when Jewish prisoners assigned to Crematorium IV revolted. She painfully recalled: “They captured one of the SS guards and threw him into the oven and they blew up the crematorium. And immediately [German] reinforcements arrived and they took all of the guys. They died slowly, by gas.”

As the events of the war progressed and German defeat became imminent, the SS authorities sought to relocate prisoners back to Germany to avoid the approaching Russian army. On 1st November, she and other Jewish members of the orchestra were gathered for roll-call, given a coat and some bread, and placed directly on a train wagon, not knowing where they were headed. On the 2nd November 1944, Rachela arrived at the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp.

Photograph of a mandolin

The German-made mandolin acquired in the Bergen-Belsen DP camp which Rachela played during their stay. Courtesy of Arie Olewski.

Bergen-Belsen and Liberation

The living conditions in Bergen-Belsen during at this time were desperate, with overcrowding, widespread disease, food shortages, and an increasingly desperate staff. They were housed in tents that offered no protection from the cold of winter. However, the organised group of musicians stayed together, sharing their rations and supporting one another emotionally through the final months of the war; they shared bunks and ate together. When they informed the SS of their position as an orchestra, the commandant nodded and replied, “Here you are not going to play.” Indeed, their instruments remained in Auschwitz. There was no work for them at Belsen and, although there was talk of trying to form a new musical group, the British liberators drew close. Unfortunately, several of the members caught typhus, and did not survive due to the lack of medical supplies in the camp. Rachela also learned that her father had died immediately upon their arrival at Auschwitz-Birkenau.

On 15th April 1945, she recalled hearing the announcement of the words: “You are free!”  Although this was a glorious moment for her, it aroused a mix of emotions, as she later pointed out: “I do know that many people died at the liberation. And us, we were fortunate. Almost fifty percent of us from the orchestra already recovered from typhus in Auschwitz, in Birkenau, so we were stronger.”

The British Army medical units and, soon the Red Cross, arrived at Belsen to help. The survivors of the orchestra had a common desire to emigrate to Eretz-Israel. Rachela and two of her girlfriends believed that they could start to make this journey on foot. The group made their way to Celle, approximately 20km away, to arrange for further transports. There, they visited a Jewish men’s camp, where she met another young survivor named Rafael Olewski. Rafael was also a Polish Jew who had survived several forced labour camps and a death march to Bergen-Belsen. He and his brother, Rabbi Israel-Moshe Olewski, became prominent figures in Belsen and in May 1945, were appointed by the Central Jewish Committee to organise Jewish life in post war Celle. Having quickly fallen in love, Rachela remained in Celle and married Rafael in the local synagogue. Their first child, Jochi (Jochevet-Rivka) was one of the first baby girls born in the hospital of the DP camp.

They stayed in the Bergen-Belsen DP camp for about four years, helping to rebuild the local Jewish community and raising their daughter. During this time, Rachela enjoyed her new role as a mother, and catered for their many visitors. Having arrived at the camp with nothing, she acquired a German-made mandolin and continued to play. She was a loyal aid to her husband’s many leadership roles. Rafael was later elected to the Central Jewish Committee of the British Zone in Germany, heading the Culture Department and History Commission. He became one of the leaders of the Belsen survivors, dedicating himself to their individual and cultural rehabilitation, and commemorating the recent atrocities of the Holocaust. A devoted Zionist, he and Rachela made Aliyah to Israel in 1949, and gave birth to their son, Arie, in 1950.

In total, 80% of Jewish women who were members of the orchestra survived the war. Eventually, the group went their separate ways. Some returned to their native countries, but for those who had come from Poland and Germany, Israel was the only option: why should they return to the countries which had rejected them? She exclaimed: “I’m not going to remain in the Diaspora. I had enough of non-Jews.” Rachela stayed in touch with several members of the orchestra, and regularly invited them to her home in Ramat-Gan. Rafael continued his activism in Israel. He became the vice-president of the World Federation of Bergen-Belsen survivors, and member of the Yad Vashem Public Council, president of the Auschwitz Committee in Israel, and more. He served in the Israel Defence Forces and organised a network of thousands of survivors and their families. His book, The Tear, was published in 1983.

A gathering of survivors from the orchestra at Rachela’s house (from left to right): Sylvia Kalif, Anita Lasker-Wallfisch, Hilde Simche, Rachela, and Rivka Bacia. Courtesy of Arie Olewski.

Post-war Legacy and “Rachela’s Mandolin”

Although Rachela did not pursue a career in music after the war, it became one of her greatest loves. As her children, Arie and Jochi, explain: “Our mother was an optimistic and unique woman. We grew up in a happy home, full of music. Our parents were Holocaust survivors who talked about what they went through, always emphasising the aspects of friendship and optimism.” On the subject of music, which they say was present and appreciated, they continued: “Mother taught us that music is significant and meaningful and brings beauty to the world, heals the soul and empowers it.” Rachela continued to play the mandolin and ensured that her children had a strong musical education. She had a large collection of classic records, and Arie and Jochi became familiar with almost every opera. Jochi also recognised that from a young age, they were taught that “a person who plays music on the street is not a beggar; he does what he knows how to do best, and contributes…therefore, it will not happen that a member of our family will pass by such a person and will not donate money to him.” Rachela and Rafael became grandparents to several children but, sadly, Rafael died in 1981.

Despite claiming that she would never return to Poland, Rachela travelled to Germany and Poland with her children in 1985 to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the liberation of Bergen-Belsen. In Auschwitz She found her former block where the orchestra had been housed and searched unsuccessfully for her brother’s hidden letters. Arie and Jochi were concerned that she had become disconnected from them, “in a world of her own, on another planet.” She also visited her hometown of Będzin and visited her former home on Malachowskiego street. They were the only ones permitted to enter the house of her parents and her former high school, reliving the happy days of her childhood. During this trip, she also met with Helena Niwinska, a violinist from the women’s orchestra, who fondly remembered their reunion.

Rachela Zelmanowicz-Olewski died of cancer on 17th August 1997 at the age of 65. In a deeply moving, posthumous letter to her grandmother, Rachela’s granddaughter Ronit wrote: “I always admired my grandma because she had such a good heart, was so considerate, so very clever…since we were little kids I remember my grandma telling me about the Holocaust, taking care to pass of her memories to me so that I would pass it on to the next generations…she had an outstanding life story.” Although Rachela she did not work professionally as a musician, her family certainly inherited her love and passion for music, and for life. By sharing her story, and how she managed to turn her limited skills into a life-saving craft, she has inspired many – including her own children. Also following in their father’s footsteps, Arie and Jochi both serve voluntarily on the board of Bergen-Belsen Survivors’ Organization in Israel, embracing their responsibilities as the second-generation preserving the memory of their parents, and the Holocaust more broadly. It was through these connections that they first met Orit Fogel-Shafran, the General Manager of the Ra'anana Symphonette who, in 2007, had held a tribute to Alma Rosé.

In 2021, a special concert was organised by her children and Fogel-Shafran, to celebrate Rachela’s life and what would have been her 100th birthday. “Rachela’s Mandolin” was performed on 7th October, accompanied by a presentation of her life story. This included excerpts from interviews with two other women from the orchestra with whom she remained good friends, as well as excerpt from her own testimony, in her own voice as recorded by Yad Vashem. The concert was conducted by Keren Kagarlitzki, the Deputy Musical Director of Raanana, and a talented mandolin musician named Yaakov (Yaki) Reuven who came from Spain to virtuously play her part in the orchestra. He presented Rachela’s original mandolin that she acquired after the war whilst living in the Bergen-Belsen DP camp, and proceeded to play on this special instrument, moving many in the audience to tears. Reuven has continued to perform the musical part of “Rachela’s Mandolin” around the world in a chamber ensemble with composer and pianist Amit Weiner. On this musical project, Reuven reflects:

I come from a family without a direct history related to the horrors of the Holocaust. However, my mother, who is a Holocaust researcher, has played a significant role in my connection to this field. For several years, she has been leading youth delegations to Poland to educate them about the Holocaust. Due to my interest in the subject and regular reading and learning, I came across materials about the late Rachela's story in 2021. Her personal narrative deeply moved me, prompting me to reach out to her family with the intention of organizing a concert in her memory. Through my correspondence with the family, I gained valuable insights into Rachela's unimaginable experiences. They shared written materials with me, and I also had fascinating conversations with her son Arie. Collaborating with the Ra'anana Symphony Orchestra, we created "Rachela's Mandolin," a musical production that serves as a poignant tribute to Rachela's life. This concert takes the audience on a musical journey, intertwining melodies that reflect her story. Throughout this sacred process, there are two moments that will forever remain etched in my memory.

The first is the day I received Rachela's original instrument, which I played during the concert.

The second is the reconstruction I orchestrated for the performance of Beethoven's symphony in the version adapted for mandolin and orchestra, as it was played in Auschwitz. These experiences have had a profound impact on me, and I will cherish them for the rest of my life. I have the complete belief that Rachela's story should be told as much as possible, therefore with my belief in the creation of the concert "Rachela's Mandolin". I have translated it for various ensembles and continue to perform it every year as part of my concert seasons.

As Reuven’s commemorative project emphasises, Rachela ’s narrative is an valuable one. Her extraordinary story of survival demonstrates not only her courage, but also her ability to adapt and to connect with others, who helped her along the way. Although she was not a ‘famous’ musician with extensive musical training, like some of the other members were, her voice as a member of the women’s orchestra in Auschwitz-Birkenau is of equal importance, and can now be remembered through contemporary, commemorative works and the tireless efforts of Arie and Jochi to keep their parents’ memory alive.

With many thanks to Arie Olewski for providing materials on Rachela’s life.
In memory of Rachela Zelmanowicz-Olewski and Rafael Olewski.

By Hannah Wilson


“Crying is Forbidden here!” Rachela Olewski (Zelmanowicz) Testimony, edited by Arie Olewski and Jochevet Ritz-Olewski, (Open University of Israel, 2019)

Testimony of Rachela Olewski-Zelmanowiz, Yad Vashem, 21/5/1984

Alma Rosé: Vienna to Auschwitz, Special Concert Program, The Israeli Opera Tel Aviv Yafo and Raanana Symphonette Orchestra

Irgun Sherit Hapleta Bergen-Belsen Israel, Our Voice, Bulletin No. 20, December 2021

Hannah Wilson, interview with Arie Olewski, March 2023

Hannah Wilson, interview with Jacob Reuven, June 2023