Copyright © Rita Charlotte Cooper Memories
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MEMORIES DEDICATED TO MY CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN
Los Angeles 1-21-1991
In March 1990 I moved from San Francisco to Los Angeles to be close to my children.
Did I do the right thing? I am the one who was always saying, "parents should not run
after their children – actually my children dragged me! Here I went back on my own
words – time will tell whether I did the right thing – my children like to tell me I can't do
ANYTHING right. Why change now?
My life was not easy but then whose life is? Anyway, when I tell some of the episodes
of my life, everybody is impressed and tells me I should write them down for my
children and grandchildren. So I decided to write down every thing I can remember.
Here it comes.
Rita C. Cooper
CHISELED IN ROCK
I am an old woman now. These are my memories. Every incident described here
actually occurred. I have described incidents as I recall having participated in them, or
seen them with my own two eyes. Every name is the true name of a real person –
except in a couple of instances, and they which are noted. Nothing described here is
fictitious or contrived. I have traveled a long, long way on the road paved with man's
inhumanity to man. Sometimes I wonder how I remained sane through it all, if indeed I
did.
They say that memory fades with age. Some memories however are chiseled in rock,
cut so deep that they become a heritage. In generations to come people will ask: How
was this possible? Did this really happen? How could this have happened? Will we ever
understand?
Roots
I am the daughter of Dora, neè Hilsenrath, and Josef Samuel Feuerstein. My father was
born in Perehinsko, which at the time was part of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire. Papa
was one of thirteen children, I only met a few of his siblings. Two of them died before
they reached maturity, I believe. My father had one brother, Isaak, in New York, and
one sister, Dora, in Los Angeles. They had emigrated to America long before the
problems started in Europe. Another brother, David, lived with his family in Hamburg, I
knew him and his family, he and his wife, Rosa, had 5 boys and lived in the basement
of a building located in the Reperbahn district. Once in a while we visited with them, but
they lived too far away from us and we were not close. His other siblings lived mostly in
Poland. There was one brother in Herne, Westphalia, I think, but I never met him. Papa
also had an aunt and her family in Gelsenkirchen, Moses and Klara Hoffman, and their
five daughters. With them we were close.
My mother, Dora, was born in Delatin, also a part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Mutti
(that is how I always called my mother) was the second oldest daughter of seven
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children. The oldest daughter, Hensche, had emigrated to America at a very young age.
She was living, at the time, with an uncle and his family in America. Mutti had five more
siblings, two brothers and two sisters younger than herself. Mutti and Tante Toni, the
third in line, had been living for a while on their own in Germany. They had been living
at the beginning with an aunt in Lueneburg, not far from Hamburg, That is also where
my parents met during the First World War. They met in 1916 and they were married
that same year.
I remember my mother telling us, that shortly before my sister Rosa was born –when
Mutti was high pregnant near the end of her pregnancy and carrying my sister, who was
born in March of 1918 – she received a message from her sisters in Hungary that their
mother had died.When Rosa was born she received her grandmother's name. Mutti's
two sisters, in Hungary, Peppy and Sophy, were the two youngest. Sophy was only 11
years old and Peppy 3 years older. My mother was devastated. Not only had her
mother died, but she was left in charge of two young children, without money, without
protection, with a war going on. Mother's two brothers Max (Mordechai) and Oscar
(Chaskel), were soldiers in the Austrian army. My mother made a decision and nobody
could change her mind. She said farewell to my father, took her four week old baby
daughter, Rosa, and went off to get her two sisters and bring them to Hamburg. She
was traveling with soldiers and all sort of people, on trains, without any sanitary
facilities, with her baby in her arms.
Everybody felt sorry for her and tried to convince her to go back home; but she would
not budge, she had to bring her two sisters to safety. There were places where the
trains had to stop, because of shootings or of army transports. With lots of difficulties
after two days of traveling, she made it to a village by the name Kireschmesse, where
she found her two sisters. Her mother was already buried. Now she started her way
back with three children, and that sounds a lot easier said than done!
First of all there where a lot of challenges to get on a train. Trains were always filled to
the brim with soldiers and no private person had a chance to get on. When they finally
had a chance to get on a train, it always was for only maybe one or two stations and
then they had to get off the train to make room for another transport of soldiers. This
went on for days. The soldiers, feeling sorry for my mother and the three children, one
of them a baby, were very kind to Mutti. They provided her with food and looked out to
provide them shelter. Word got around about my brave mother with her two little sisters
and one baby. In one of those nights my mother was in a barn to stay there overnight,
she was visited by a soldier bringing food to her. He had been curious about the names
he had heard mention, like Dora, Peppy and Sophy, these were the names of his
sisters. It was my uncle Chaskel, who was there with his regiment, to be sent off to the
front. I can not tell you how happy they were, to find each other and this in such a G"d
forsaken place. He had not known about his mother's passing and of course their
happiness of being together was very clouded by it. Uncle Chaskel went to see his
superior, who allowed him to spend the night with his sisters and also got a permit for
Mutti, to be able to board any train going to Germany, the permit was good up to the
border. They were very happy to have at least that one night together and they spent
half the night and more, talking. In the darkness the rats had a field day, they were
running around scaring them terribly. Mutti told us how uncle Chaskel had kept baby
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Rosa all night on his chest to protect her from those rats. They talked a great deal
about surviving the war since soldiers at the front did not have a great survival rate.
They schemed a process to improve their chances of survival and they came up with an
idea to get out of it. In the morning, my mother and her brother had to separate again.
Mutti and the children on their way to Germany and uncle Chaskel with the soldiers to
the front. It was a bitter separation. They could not be sure of ever seeing each other
again.
With the permission uncle Chaskel got, from his superior, to board any train going to
Germany, Mutti had no problems to get to the border, and it did not take too long until
they got there. Mutti had papers for herself and for Rosa, but none for her two sisters
and the border police did not want to let her two sisters into Germany. Mutti cried and
begged, until finally they allowed her to take Sophy with her; but they did not give in for
Peppy. Peppy was a big girl, very developed and tall for her age. She told Mutti not to
worry, to take Sophy along and that she would find her way to Hamburg on her own.
Mutti had no choice in the matter, and I can only imagine, putting myself in her position,
of what it must have meant to her to leave her sister behind, after all she went through
to bring her sisters to safety. Mutti gave Peppy all the money she could spare, plus all
the food she had on her and they went on separate ways. Mutti was very worried for
Peppy, but arrived safely with Rosa and Sophy in Hamburg. It only took Peppy a few
days to get to Hamburg as well. She had made the acquaintance of a Jewish soldier
and he was very nice to her. She told him her story and he helped her to cross the
border at a place where there were no guards; but it took some time for her to hitch hike
to Hamburg. Mutti sent Sophy to school, I think she went to the Israelitiche Toechter
Schule, where Rosa and I would go much later. Peppy went to work as a maid or cook,
in a very wealthy Jewish home and that was also how she met her future husband, my
uncle Richard. He was their kosher butcher.
Now Mutti had to do something for her two brothers. During the night they had spent
together in the barn, uncle Chaskel and Mutti had decided on what she had to do. Mutti
had a doctor friend, who testified for her, that she was terminally ill and that there was
no time left for her. Her last wish was to see her brother once more. She also had to
talk to him about the future of their two little sisters, who would be left alone. This was
written in two letters, one with the name of uncle Chaskel and one of uncle Max. They
were sent to the two different divisions of the army. It worked, they were sent home on
furlough. Papa was ready for them with civilian clothing and they burned the uniforms.
Shortly after uncle Chaskel came home, his division of the regiment was wiped out by
the enemy. Much later, shortly before World War I ended, the same thing happened to
the division uncle Max had been in. Uncle Chaskel moved to Westphalia, where he
worked very hard in a coal mine for about a year. Then he got married and lived in
Essen. Uncle Max stayed closer to Hamburg. He lived and worked in Harburg, where
he married into a prosperous family.
Of my early childhood there are a few things I remember only vaguely. I must have
been 5 years old when I was hit by a bus. I remember the bus driver carrying me in his
arms up the stairs to my mother. For quite some time I had to go around with heavy
bandage on my hands and around my head. I was born cross-eyed; my left pupil was
almost hidden under my nose. When I was about 6 1/2 years old, my mother, G"d rest
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her soul, decided to have my eye operated. My father was very scared; he did not want
to have me operated on my eye. He had good reason for it. Papa had lost one of his
eyes back in Poland, when he was 12 years old, in a fight with other boys. The doctor
treating Papa had not saved his eye and he was afraid, that I might also loose mine.
But Mutti said, that she would not let a girl of hers grow up like that, when there was a
chance to correct it. In the year 1927 this was a major operation. Professor
Deutschman, my surgeon, had clinics all over the world, Hamburg, New York, Paris and
London. He traveled around, giving lectures and operating. I still see in front of my eyes
all those men in their white garbs and masks standing around the operating table. I was
scared and crying. They promised me ice cream if I stopped crying, I did and they kept
their promise. This is one episode, of many, of my life I will not forget.
I remember my paternal grandparents coming from Poland (Mother’s name unknown –
may be Brandel [Betty], Father’s name: Moishe Nussen) to visit with us -- I never met
my maternal grandparents (Mother’s name unknown – may be Brandel [Betty], Father’s
name: David); they had passed on long before I was born. Mother's father was a
Chazzan (a cantor in the synagogue) and father's father was a shochet (a kosher
butcher authorized to slaughter animals in accordance with Jewish traditional law). Both
families were very orthodox. In spite of the fact that my parents were also very religious,
my grandparents did not consider them to be religious enough and therefore would not
eat in our house. When my grandparents stayed with us grandmother would cook in her
own dishes which she had brought with her while grandfather would kill his own
chicken. They did not consider us sufficiently religious because (1) my mother did not
wear a Scheitel (a wig, mandatory for ultra orthodox Jewish married women) and (2)
they did not trust the Schochtim (Jewish traditional kosher slaughterers) in Hamburg to
be kosher enough. My grandparents stayed only a short time with us. They were going
to visit all their children and then go to Israel, then called Palestine, to live out the rest
of their life in the Holy Land and die there. Unfortunately they did not make it to
Palestine, they made it to America where two of their children lived. They are both
buried in America.
My father's younger brother David lived in Hamburg with his wife Rosa and 5 children,
all boys. My mother's two younger sisters Peppi and Sophy were married and lived with
their families also in Hamburg. Mother's brother Max lived in Harburg, a smaller city
close to Hamburg, with his wife Dora, and their children, Ruth and David. They owned a
big department store there. I remember my first escalator ride in their store. I remember
aunt Peppi getting married to uncle Richard Weinberg, I think it was at the time my
sister Betty was born. They emigrated to America. Shortly after they left, we also moved
to Dortmund, Westphalia. Tante Sophy, Onkel Schmuel, and their children, Rita and
Claire, remained in Hamburg as did Onkel Max and his family in Harburg. Another
episode Rosa reminded me of was something she would not forget, I don't blame her,
she has the scars in her hand. It must have been about the same year as the prank we
played on Herr Blitzky. Rosa and I we were alone in the house and we were hungry. So
Rosa made herself a sandwich with butter and marmalade. Then I started to make one
for myself, I loved marmalade and so I laid it on. Rosa felt that I was putting on too
much and swiped the knife away from me, holding the knife in her hand. I tried to take it
away from her, she put her hand with the knife, blade adjacent to her fingers, and I
grabbed the knife and pulled - I think it was the first time in my life, that I saw so much
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blood, if my memory does not play a trick on me, I think that Rosa fainted. Poor Rosa,
she could easily have lost four of her fingers; but thank G"d she only has a few scars to
show of it. During afternoons "we" had to go to the Cheder (Jewish religious
school/classes). The cheder was located in the same school we went to in the morning.
All other children were allowed to play; but "we – the Jewish children" had to sit and
learn Hebrew, Yiddish and to translate the Chumash (the bible, the five books of
Moses) into German. I still see the 2 Mellamdim (teachers of Hebrew ) Blitzky and
Knoblowitz in front of my eyes, how we made them suffer, Rosa and I. My parents had
some friends who were slightly related to us. There was the family Brenner living on the
Steinstrasse, about a block away from us, and some of their family lived a half block
away in the other direction, their name was Haber. In the same house where the
Habers lived, there also lived the Schummer family. They had two daughters Sarah and
Miriam. Miriam was, I think, of my sister Rosa's age, I know that they were friends.
Sarah was a few years older then Miriam, she came very often to visit with us. She
loved to sing and my dear mother had a voice like a nightingale and we all sang
together. The Brenner family had two sons and one daughter, Josef, Ernst, and Sarah.
Josef was married to Fanny's sister Lotte. Fanny is my father's cousin from
Gelsenkirchen. Josef, Ernst and Lotte had already gone to live in the United States. I
think it was during the end of 1931, when Ernst came from the States to marry his
school sweetheart Sarah. There was a big wedding, a large hall was rented by her
parents and we were, of course, all invited to the wedding. I remember making a picture
for her, a cut out of black shiny paper, I think it was called a "shadow picture," but I
don't know if it is called here the same way. I made this picture and the frame all by
myself and I wrote a poem on it in black calligraphy, it was very pretty. Sarah was a
beautiful bride and Ernst was very good-looking. My Papa entertained the people from
the stage, I remember one poem he read aloud – and he was very good at it. My Papa
could entertain hundreds of people, he was that good. The young married couple left
after the wedding for the United States and we heard from their parents, that they were
struggling very hard to make a living, but were very happy to be in America.
Mutti had a cousin in Hamburg his name was Jacob Hilsenrath. He was, if I remember it
right, a boxer and a police officer in Hamburg. He was single. My girlfriend's mother had
a single a sister, Hanna, in Hagen, not far from Dortmund. Now these two ladies started
to make a shidduch (match making) and they did it this way. Hanna had her birthday
and they made a party for her in our home. Cousin Jacob was invited and he came
from Hamburg. What can I tell you; they were a lovely couple, he was over six foot tall
and she was not more than about 5" shorter than him. It was love at the first sight. They
met in the evening and became engaged to be married the next morning. They were
married soon after and as far as I know lived happily ever after.
Germany
I was born May 21, 1921 in Altona, a suburb of Hamburg, Germany. I could never
understand why the side of the street, where I was born, was in Altona while the other
side of the street was in Hamburg. My name is Rita Charlotte. I have two sisters, Rosa,
three years older and Betty, seven years younger than myself. All three of us were born
in the same city, Rosa and I in Altona, Betty in Hamburg.
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Our house had three stories. On the ground floor was a Mom and Pop grocery store,
whose owners lived in the back of the store. Our apartment was on top of the store, we
occupied the whole floor. Above us lived another family. We had a very comfortable
apartment, two bedrooms, a small kitchen, a dining room, with a small den next to it.
The den I remember especially well, it had a leather sofa, a beautiful grandfather clock
and a huge, heavy desk on which my father did all his work. On the desk my father had
a telephone, but it did not work - I suppose that it was wishful thinking on his part, I
don't think that there were any lines to connect it yet. When Papa was not home, we,
the children, played with the phone and had a lot of fun with it.
Across the street, in "Hamburg," was a large building with many apartments and many
children to play with. On our side the sidewalk was very narrow, but on the other side
the sidewalk was at least four times as wide, more like a playground. We played there a
lot. On that same side of the street on the corner was a large coffeehouse named the
Kaiserkaffee. Its name probably came from its location, on the edge of the Kaiserplatz.
The Kaiserplatz was like a little center; four or five streets ended on it. There was a little
plateau in the center and on all the corners of the streets were stores big and small.
There always was a lot going on there, lots of hustle and bustle and noise, with busses
coming from all the directions. Some of the busses drove empty through our street, they
unloaded the passengers at the Kaiserplatz and came around the block to load up
again at the Kaiserkaffee. While our street was very quiet, it was the contrary on that
corner. In the Kaiserkaffee was a large restaurant, billiard-room and rooms for people
wanting to play cards in. I know, quite often my mother sent me to pick up my dad, as
he liked to play cards a lot and he also was a very good billiard player, I always loved to
see my dad play pool he knew a lot of tricks and showed them to me, I loved it. The
streets were very bare, no trees, no grass, only in the windows and balconies one could
see some flowers and greenery.
My sister Rosa and I went to the Israelitische Toechter Schule, School for the
Daughters of Israel, on Karolinenstrasse 26, in Hamburg. It was a very good private
school. I see the street in front of my eyes, it was a very wide street like an avenue, but
I don't remember any trees there either. I remember other schools on the same side as
ours, all large red brick buildings, very clean. There were some trees in the schoolyard
and some of the ground was covered with grass. The classrooms were large and well-lit
and large windows covering one whole wall. At first, when I started to go to school, I sat
at the back of the classroom, but when I was seven years old and had my eye operated
to correct my cross eyes, I had to sit in the front row, right across the blackboard in
order to look straight. No more room for my naughty behavior, too close to the teacher.
There were several little parks close by to where we lived, I remember one particularly
well since Rosa and I went there to play quite often. It was called Sternschanzer Platz
or park. There were lots of trees, meadows and a playground. The Sternschanzer
Bahnhof (railroad station) was very close to it, hence the name. My aunt Sophy used to
go there with us and her children, Rita, two years younger than I, and later with baby
Claire too.
Shortly after my sister Betty was born, we moved to Dortmund, Westphalia. I suppose
the move was business related. Although we, the children where very well provided for
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and were not missing anything, we could see some changes. For instance, we used to
have a live-in maid, who we suddenly did not have any more – and that even before
Betty was born when she certainly was needed. I guess that times had become bad,
but then I was a child and since we kids did not feel it on our own bodies, we did not
think about it. But the time of the great depression over the whole world was already for
a long time in the making. So from middle 1928 on we lived in Dortmund. Papa had
gone ahead of us and rented an apartment. It was very different from Hamburg and not
as comfortable either. First of all we had to climb up to the fourth floor and in Hamburg
we had a build in toilet right in the apartment, not so in Dortmund we had to walk down
a half flight of the stairs and that was where the toilet was. We were lucky at that, since
we were the only occupants on the fourth floor, we did not have to share the bathroom
with another family. On all the other floors lived four families and two families had to
share one bathroom. One thing was very nice in our apartment, we had a little balcony
right in the corner of the children's bedroom. Since the building was on the corner of
Leopoldstrasse and another small street – I forgot the name of that street, we could
look down to both streets and also had a magnificent view over a large part of the city. I
always loved that view and see with its beautiful church steeples. In wintertime the view
was especially lovely, when the snow covered all the roofs, it was like a Christmaspicture in real life. In the same building, on the corner, was a grocery store and at the
entrance going into the building on the right side was small a store. This store held a lot
of merchandise like linen, cut-goods, towels, tablecloth and other things and this store
was my father's. I saw salesmen going in and out with suitcases filled with merchandise
going to sell them in easy installments. I suppose that the business was the reason for
our move to Dortmund.
We attended the Juedische Volkschule (Jewish elementary school). This public school
also accommodated a Cheder (Jewish religious school) which used the same
classrooms as the secular school. In addition it also included a Kinderhort (a children's
playground) where the children received toys with which to play and books to read. It
was a separate little house in the schoolyard, which was very large. Also the children
did some artwork such as painting and all sorts of other things. It was very educational.
Rosa and I went to the public school every morning and the Cheder every afternoon Our parents insisted that we go to Cheder as they were very frumm (very religious) but
Rosa and I hated the Cheder! After Cheder I often went to the Kinderhort to visit with
Frau Sondheimer who was the teacher of the Hort. She was a very nice lady. She knew
that I loved to read so she picked out some good books for me. She gave me 5 to 6
books to take home every time. I loved them. Thank you Frau Sondheimer wherever
you are. You introduced me to good reading and enriched my life.
Rosa and I did not like the Cheder neither did we like the Melamdim (Jewish religious
teachers) and we were always looking for mischief. I remember one day, I must have
been 8 or 9 years old, we were going to Cheder and played around loosing time on the
way. We arrived late. The class had already begun. We were afraid to go in, we had
been late several times before and were scared to be punished by our teachers. We
were lingering around in the hallway, when we spotted the milk cans in one of the
corners in their crates, ready to be picked up the next morning and exchanged for new
full bottles. These milk bottles were distributed during recess time in the morning for 10
Pfennig (cents) a bottle at the regular school. I never bought the milk, I bought a piece
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of chocolate for the money Mutti gave me. Don't tell her. These little bottles were made
out of aluminum, I think. Anyway, they were of some sort of metal. Now we had this
devilish idea to fill these bottles with water, and line them up over the whole door,
leaning them against the door. We knew that when somebody knocked on the door the
teacher would open the door by himself, the door opened to the inside. I ran away first,
Rosa knocked very hard on the door and escaped. We neither saw nor heard what
happened after we ran away; but we learned about it the following day. Of course, we
played hooky that day. We really were two devils. All the tzores (Yiddish for troubles)
we caused our teachers. Who knows were they are now, if they still are. I am sorry for
having been so bad. I am sorry for not having studied more.
Not far from us there was a street named Heilige Garten Strasse, Holly Garden street,
But everyone in Dortmund referred to that street as Die Heilige Juden Gasse, Holly Jew
Alley. The reason was that it was 95% occupied by Jewish people. It really was a
narrow alley, there were pawn chops, money lenders, wholesale stores, second hand
stores and all sort of other stores mostly occupied and owned by Jews. I don't think that
I went more then once through that street as there was nothing for me to do there. The
Heilige Garten Strasse ran into the Steinplatz and Muenster Strasse – which ran
parallel with the street we lived on and was sort of a shopping center. Lots of big
businesses and elegant stores were there. There was one large department store at
least five stories high. It was called Kaufhaus Stern and extended from the Steinplatz to
the corner of Steinstrasse and Leopoldstrasse and far into it. It occupied a half square
block, the owners were Jewish . As far as I know it was the largest Jewish business in
town and it was beautiful, they sold everything your heart desired. We children loved to
go in there and use the Paternoster, a bucket chain elevator, and that was fun. We
lived on Leopoldstrasse 28, at least half the people living in that street were Jewish and
when we went to school in the mornings a whole group of Jewish kids ran along in
crowds. There were a lot of non-Jewish kids in our block and we got along very well –
until everything changed and it did not do so gradually.
I remember on Fridays coming from school, how the whole building where we lived was
filled with the smell of Shabbat, mostly of my mother's cooking. Gefillte fish (fish balls),
Challah (Jewish braided white bread) freshly baked and the Roggerlach (Desert pastry)
my mother baked, I still feel the taste on my tongue. The Shabbat-table was set on
white linen, always set for two more people, as Papa would bring Orme Yiden (poor
Jews) home from the Schul (synagogue), for a Shabbat dinner. I see my dear Mother in
front of my eyes, before blessing the candles, she gave each of us some money to put
in the Keren Kayemet Pischke (collection box for the Jewish national fund) for building
up Israel (at the time, British mandatory Palestine). Then she bensched (blessed) the
candles and after the candles she put her apron over our heads and benched us. Then
Papa came home with the company and he made a beautiful Kiddush (blessings before
the meal), I still remember his Niggun (tune for prayer). We sung Smires (Hebrew
thanks giving songs) and did our benschen (prayers said after the meal) after dinner.
Schabbes was a real Yom Tov (holiday) for us. In the mornings on Shabbat we children
went to our parents beds to cuddle up with them. What a simcha (joy) that was! On
those occasions my father taught me the most beautiful Yiddish songs. During one of
those times Papa, who was always educating me - and I loved it - told me and I quote:
"listen to me mein Kind (my child) , when you were born into this world, you were crying
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and we, all around you, were happy. See to it during your life, that when you are ready
to leave this world that you will be happy and all the others around you will be crying." I
did not understand him at the time, but now I remember it quite often and I understand
the meaning of it all. I loved my father very much and at that time we were so very
close. Before Papa went to schul (synagogue), he brought for us the breakfast in bed,
which consisted of milk, cake, and roggerlach (cinnamon cakes), which Mutti had
prepared with so much love the day before. The Shabbat we always spent together as
a family. We visited friends or they came to visit us, it was very peaceful. Life was so
magnificent, if only it would have remained that way!
Rosa and I joined Jewish Zionist groups, like the Brit Haolam, Mizrachi, and others. We
had our Oneg Shabbat (Sabbath get together) and we went on outings with our Wimpel,
our blue and white banner, with the Magen David in the center, marching on the streets
and on the roads. Of course, there was always some anti-Semitism in the air. Children
called us dirty names and sometimes we would get into some fights; but that did not
prepare us at all for what was to come.
When I was about eleven and a half years old, my music teacher from school had my
parents come over, to tell them of my beautiful voice and not to let it go to waste. He
recommended me to a Conservatorium, where I started to learn how to sing. I even
participated in a concert in the Westfahlenhalle, the second largest Halle (concert hall)
in Germany at that time. This concert was transmitted over all Germany by radio.
Unfortunately my association with the Conservatory did not last more then about a half
year. Needless to say that as soon as the Nazis came to power I was ousted with a few
others who also were Jews.
In 1931 my parents decided to send Rosa and me for a summer vacation to visit our
family in Hamburg. Since my girlfriend, Henny, had now also an aunt in Hamburg,
Hanna and her husband Jacob, it was decided that she would come with us. It was
quite a long trip for us to travel alone. Rosa the oldest, was thirteen, Henny eleven and I
was ten years old. I think, if I remember it right, that we were the whole day on the road
and that we had to change trains twice. My parents had worked it out with the Bahnhofs
Kommission (railway authorities) of the train stations. They picked up children traveling
alone and took them to the connecting train. Everything worked out fine and we had a
lot of fun on our voyage. I stayed the first few weeks with aunt Toni and Henny stayed
in the same house, because her aunt and uncle lived in the same building. So we had
ourselves a ball. Rosa stayed with Tante (aunt) Sophy and they lived farther away, but
we were together almost every day.
I remember one day specifically because we Henny and I did one of our mischievous
things. In the Germany I remember, the apartment houses were build up to four floors,
aunt Tony lived on the third floor. My room faced the back of the building and from the
window we could look into the patios. Every house had a small patio and almost all the
houses on our side were apartment houses, but right across in back of our house, was
a private home the home was on the other street parallel to ours and they had a nice
garden. What intrigued me, was a pear tree close to the wall that separated the patio
from the garden. There were pears on that tree and I was longing to eat some of them. I
told Henny that we could climb that tree and she let me talk her into doing it. I don't
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remember how we climbed the tree, but we did and we ate the "forbidden" fruit which
had not yet ripened enough. When it came to climbing down, we could not and we had
to call for help. The owners of the garden came and got us off and took us to our
respective aunts. We got a good spanking, but that was not all, since the fruit was not
ripe, we got a bad tummy ache and that was nothing to laugh about. But we had a very
good time there. Then Rosa changed with me, she came to aunt Tony and I went to
aunt Sophy. I remember we went every morning with aunt Sophy and my cousins Rita
and Claire to the woods and park. I see in front of my eyes the green meadow and a
little barn. There was a cow and there were some people selling milk in glasses to the
children and grownups for a few Pfennig, directly taken from the cow. I never was a milk
lover, but I loved that milk and so did my cousins. I still feel the creamy sweet taste on
my tongue. What an incredible, superb memory that is for me. Why did the time not
stand still? We also went for a few days to Harburg, to visit with uncle Max, aunt Rosa
and my two cousins, Rita and David. It was the last time I saw aunt Rosa, Rutchen, and
David, but I did not know it then. They were murdered by the Germans in a
concentration camp.
On our way home my aunt made the same travel arrangements with the Bahnhofskommission and we were picked up at the stations, where we had to change trains and
were taken to the other trains. The people taking care of us at the different stations,
were very friendly and so were the passengers travelling with us. The peace was only
sometimes disturbed by rowdy young Nazis coming in to the train in their brown Nazi
uniforms, but no-one paid much attention to them, not at that time yet. We all enjoyed
the cities, little towns and the country side we were passing through. Every thing
seemed to be blooming and green and in between the little houses with their red roofs
made lovely peaceful pictures for us, there really was nothing there to warn us of what
the future had in store.
In the summer of 1932, my sister Rosa finished Volkschule (elementary school) and
started working as an apprentice in Seifenhaus Minz, a specialty soap store named
Minz. It carried perfumery, powder and other things as well as soap articles.
On Christmas 1932 at the Huettemann's house, neighbors of ours, living in the same
building we lived in, the Christmas tree was lit and they were singing Christmas carols. I
was given a plate with lots of goodies on it. They were good friends of my parents and
on holidays Jewish or non-Jewish, we exchanged holiday cakes and other things. Frau
Huettemann took me to one side and she told me: "We have decided to vote for Hitler
this time. He is really going to help us, you know? The Jews are really bad. I do not
mean your family, you are good people; but the others are mean. They steal and rob
from us; but Hitler will change all of that." She said that to me, a child, eleven and a half
years old. Today I can not understand why she told me that. What was her purpose of
telling me? For several nights I did not sleep until I finally told my parents. It was good
that I told them because now they knew they could not trust them, our "good friends,"
the Huettemans. Besides, even before Hitler got into power, Ernst, their only son,
walked around in the brown uniform of the Sturm Abteilung (SA), storm division.
The SA were Hitler's first followers and they were marching the streets for years before
Hitler was elected Reichskanzler. They wore brown outfits, with red arm-bands and
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black Swastikas on them. After Hitler was elected, a new group of his hordes sprung
up. "Hitler's elite group," the SS Sturm Schutz, storm protection. If the SA was bad and
terrorizing, the SS were a thousand times worse. They were cruel, brutal, and vicious.
They wore black uniforms, with skulls on their collar and of course, the armband with
their hateful emblem, the Swastika. Whenever we heard their goose stepping march, or
their heel-clicking and their Heil Hitler and the hysterically shrieking crowds adoring
them and their Fuehrer, we tried to hide from them.
We as children did not really expect what was to come; but then who did? The SA were
marching on the streets. They were singing the Horst Wessel Lied: "Wenn das
Judenblut am Messer spritzt dann gehts noch mal so gut." This translates loosely to
"when Jewish blood spurts from the knife life is twice as good." We children were
scared. The children who used to call us dirty names only, started throwing stones now
and really hurting us. It became more and more horrifying. Going to school seemed like
going through hell. Hitler had not yet come to power; but his hordes controlled the
streets. All our teachers except for one were Jewish. She was our only female teacher,
our Handarbeits Lehrerin teacher for manual skills, needlework. When the boys were
learning geometry, we the girls had to learn needlework. I guess they thought at that
time that girls did not need to learn geometry. This teacher was from the beginning antiSemitic and she let us feel it, anything she could think about against us Jews she would
tell us. Needless to say, she was hated by all of us children – and I suppose teachers
alike. The closer we came to Hitler's regime takeover, the meaner she became. Our
teachers were all very nice, but they all had nicknames from us which we would not use
in front of them. Only two of them did not get nicknames, our Rector, Heineman, and
teacher, Gruenewald, we all loved them too much to give them nasty names.
In January 1933 Hitler was elected to power, from this point on, the distinction between
German and Nazi is more academic than real. Germany had elected the Nazis and the
world recognized their rules and laws. Life became worse. We children were afraid to
go to school and we had to go to school, that was the law. One day, Henny, my
girlfriend, her brothers and I were running to school and were badly beaten up by Nazi
boys. I came to my classroom crying. I went to my teacher and asked for help. He could
hardly hold his tears back when he told me that he could not protect any of us any
more. He was the most loved teacher in our school, Herr Gruenewald. Who knows
whether he survived the Holocaust?
I like to write down here an episode that would change my whole life later on. I was 11
years old and my sister Betty was 4 years old. Rosa never wanted to take the two of us,
Betty and me, on Sundays out of the house. So I had the task to take Betty with me
wherever I went. To sweeten my duty of baby sitting my sister, my mother gave me 25
Pfennig to spend. Betty and I, we loved movies and cartoons. So I had found a cheap
movie house and we went there quite often and enjoyed it. I think that was the last time
we went to the movies in Dortmund. After that Mutti would not let us go too far from the
house, it was too dangerous for Jewish children to walk alone. So we went to the
movies. This time they had a movie going, "forbidden for youth under 18 years of age;"
but being a Flohkino, cheap movie house, as it was, they let us in any way. This movie
as you can imagine was about prostitutes; but in those times they did not show any
thing like today in the movies. All they showed was kissing and hugging, and while they
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were heavily kissing and lying down, the screen became dark. Then they showed that
these ladies got pregnant, became sick, and underwent operations. I was horrified.
Betty slept through the whole thing. On our way home I promised myself that "ONLY
ONE MAN IS GOING TO KISS ME AND TOUCH ME." I promised that to myself over
and over and did not forget it – ever.
It was shortly after Hitler came to power when we had a big tragedy in our school. Herr
Heineman the Rector of our School died. He did not just die – he committed suicide.
There were rumors in school and also outside of school in the Jewish community, that
the Nazis had arrested Rector Heineman's son and charged him with embezzlement. I
did not know at that time what that meant, but everybody said that it was not true and at
that time nobody could speak up. I really don't know what happened to his son, but it
was my first experience of the Hitler's regime functions and of dead so close to me. I
went to attend the first funeral in my life. I remember snow was covering the streets and
it was icy cold and the masses of people walking behind the casket and cars following, I
had never seen that many cars together before. All those people coming to the
cemetery, the whole school and families of the children were there and more and more.
He was laid to rest next to the outer wall, all by himself. When I asked why, I was told
that according to Jewish law a suicide was not to be laid to rest with those dying of
natural causes. Our music class was lined up and we sung a Hymn directed by our
music teacher Mister Stern "Die Himmel erzaehlen die Ehre G"ttes" which translates to
"The Heaven tells the Honor of G"d." There was not a dry eye to be seen, He was loved
and respected very much. He was gone and missed by all of us and the rumors went on
too. I think from what I know, that he and his son were the first victims of the elected
Nazis in Dortmund.
March 28,1933, Dortmund, a date that is easy to remember because it is my sister,
Rosa's, birthday. Henni and I were walking home from school. We were scared and
depressed. The Nazis were marching on the street and it seemed to us that everybody
was calling Heil Hitler and "down with the Jews!" We tried not to be obvious; but some
children spotted us and yelled: "Saujuden, Judenpack!" (Jew pigs, Jew rabble). Then
they ran after us throwing stones at us. We were not allowed to defend ourselves, had
we attempted to do so we would have been killed. Breathless we arrived home, only to
find my mother in terrible uproar. I found out, that there was a razzia, a roundup, the
Nazis were gathering and arresting all male Jews and "children" from 16 years on up,
they said they were to be taken in Schutzhaft, protective custody. Papa was not home.
We were all so scared that they may have arrested him. We looked down from our
windows and watched the Nazis rounding up the boys and men out of their homes into
open trucks and take them away. Women and children were crying, what was
happening to us? And all the time we were worrying about papa. Where was he? Rosa
came running every half-hour, from her job, to check whether Papa had come home
yet. She was terrified. The store were she worked was only a little over a block away
from us. Her boss and his nephew had been already taken away by the Germans; but
the store had to remain open. The display windows were painted with hate slogans.
Large Magens David were painted on them with slogans, Don't buy from Jews! The
Jews are our misfortune, they rob us, kill the Jews. In all the Jewish stores the same
thing happened with similar slogans. At the front entrance stood two SA men holding
rifles with bayonets, preventing people from entering the store. At 5pm, Papa was not
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yet home. We were out of our minds. Finally he came home. He had walked through all
the uproar in the streets and came through unharmed. Thank G"d!
It became dark and it was quiet in the streets; but everybody was scared that it would
continue through the night. In our building there were three Jewish families: one elderly
couple by the name of Mandel, Frau Koenigsberg with her 19 year old son, David, and
us. Mister Mandel had been arrested. David came to us and said we should hide
ourselves, because they would come to pick us up for sure. After talking about it my
mother decided to go to a gentile neighbor, not Huettemans, on the second floor, I am
very sorry that I forgot their name. Mutti asked the lady whether she would be so kind to
let the two men, my father and David, stay over night in her home. She was a very nice
lady and so was her husband. They were good people. They talked it over and then
they said that they would gladly do it; but they were afraid their children might talk about
it and we would all be in trouble. So the lady came up with an idea. Every tenant in the
building received the keys to the wash kitchen for four days, to wash, cook and dry their
laundry. These were her days and she had the keys. So she would lock the two men in
the attic and keep the keys.
That was the way it was done. Papa and David hid in the attic and played Chess all
night. Mutti, Rosa and I, were sitting by the window all night. Sure enough the razzia
continued throughout the night. We saw the Nazis picking up our neighbors and friends.
When the persecuted resisted, they were hit with sticks and guns. The women and
children screamed and yelled. I felt a panic I had never felt before. As we were
watching the Nazis going from house to house searching for Jews, they were closing in
on us, knocking and shouting on our entrance gate. "Alle Saujuden raus," all Jew pigs
come out. Now I have to tell you, there was another neighbor living on the first floor.
She was an anti-Semite from way back; whenever she had a chance to curse the Jews,
she did. We had learned to be very careful, not to make any noise, not to run down the
stairs; in other words, not to antagonize her in any way. We were scared of her. This
was the night we saw a miracle. When the Nazis were yelling and rattling the gates for
Jews to come out and none came out, she finally opened her window and shouted:
"There are no dirty Jews in this building. Why don't you let us good Aryan Germans
sleep." We were trembling and fearing, of what she would say and then that? We could
not believe what we had heard; but it was true. They did not bother our building again
that night and went to the next corner. After this miraculous behavior, the woman
continued her hatred of Jews as before. We all had a sleepless night, only Betty slept,
she was 5 years old. That is how it came to pass that our dear father was not arrested
while about 90% of the Jewish men and boys over 16 were taken into "protective"
custody. The following morning the streets were quiet, eerily quiet, we were afraid to
walk the streets.
Then we found out that Henni's father and oldest brother were also arrested. Henni and
I went to the police station to find out were they were kept. At the police station we had
to wait for some time as there were other family members of those arrested trying to
find out where their loved ones were taken. When finally our turn came, we were at
least lucky in a sense, as her father and brother were detained at that same police
station close to us and we did not have to go and look for them in another place. We
were taken to where the arrested were kept, somehow I had the sensation that some of
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the policemen felt sorry for us, but some of them were very rude, yelling at us and
shoveling us around, we were so scared. The prisoners were crowded by the fifties or
more in a room that would normally hold no more than 20. They were lying on the floor,
no chairs or blankets and no food. We had to take blankets and food to them. I had
never seen things like that. It was very depressing. Some of the arrested men had not
heard from their families yet and they asked us to go to tell them where they were and
to tell, what they should bring. A lot off the men were standing around in their Talethim
(prayer shawls) praying.
The next several weeks were extremely tense. On the same side on the other corner of
the street from were we lived, there was a Kosher grocery store owned by a Mr. and
Mrs. Lustig. Herr (Mr.) Lustig was also taken in custody and Frau Lustig was alone in
the store. Their living quarters were behind the store. They had neither children nor
grandchildren. She was scared to be by herself at night. The first week she slept in the
house of some friends; but she had to attend her business and came back. So she
asked me if I would stay with her. I felt sorry for her, so I did. The first night went by
without an incident; but the second night was something else. It is one of many nights, I
won't forget as long as I live. We were sleeping in her bedroom adjacent to the patio.
Suddenly we were awakened with the rattling of the front door to the store, those
outside were shouting obscenities and screaming: "Open the door!" We did not dare to
move and shook with fear. It was a mob outside and we hoped they would go away.
Then suddenly it became quiet outside and we were already happy that they were
gone. Our sleep was of course gone, and then a light fell on us and on the ceiling. They
had gone to the backside of the building and shone a flashlight from the top of the
fence. It seemed to us that they did that for an eternity. We stayed calm and pretended
to sleep. They finally stopped, and we started to breathe easier, hoping that they were
finally through. Fat chance. They had gone back to the front and started all over again,
we got dressed in a hurry. We heard glass breaking, we ran out to the patio. There was
a stepladder and we jumped down on the other side. I really don't know how we got
down the wall because the wall was steep. Anyway on that street there were no
doorframes where we could hide. On the other side of the street was a big empty lot. It
was called the Viehmarkt, farmers' market. Twice a week the farmers came there and
built huts, where they displayed their vegetables, fruits, and chickens and all sort of
goodies. On the left side two blocks away, the width of the Viehmarkt was the police
station. We could not go to the police, they could not do anything for us any more. The
Nazis were now the Germans. We ran around about two hours on the side streets until
it became day time and the gate to our apartment house was open. It was a very
frightening night. Where were all the good neighbors during that horrible night? They
must have heard what was going on, and nobody showed their face and nobody came
to help us. They had plundered her business and her apartment. Needless to say, I did
not stay there any more and neither did she until her husband was released.
After keeping the men in Schutzhaft for several days, the Germans started to let them
go: boys first, day by day a few at a time. It took weeks before most of the men were
released. While Henni and I where going around the streets to notify family members of
the whereabouts of their husbands and sons, we could see the destruction made to the
Jewish stores and properties, it was devastating. Windows were smashed and the
slogans on those still intact did nothing to lift our spirits. Kaufhaus Meyer und Guenter
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had been plundered, the windows smashed in and the displays destroyed. I don't know
how far the destruction extended. We were too scared to get close to the building. The
Meyer und Guenter did not open the business any more, shortly before we left I saw a
sign – in German: TO BE REOPENED UNDER ARYAN MANAGEMENT. We were
going around with very heavy hearts and very scared. It was very difficult for us to
understand what was going on. It still is.
For about 3 weeks my father did not leave the house. He did not even dare to go down
into his business, which was in the same building on the ground floor. It was cut goods
store. Materials for suits, dresses, coats, table and bed linen, and I don't know what
else. I only know that there were salesmen going out to other towns to sell the goods
with easy installment payments. I really don't know the details. I was too young to be
interested in it.
On April 15, 1933 my father left the house for the first time. He and one of the
salesmen, Herr Haber, tried to collect some money from some customers and maybe
sell some merchandise. We needed money and Papa was afraid to go to the bank, the
German authorities might catch him there, but after all, life went on and the money had
to come from somewhere. So they left with some suitcases with merchandise. They
had decided not to go too far from home. So they went to a small town close by and
there they separated to visit some customers. Papa had already been with a few of
them and all went well. Then he came to one and trouble began. When he stated why
he came, the woman shouted at him the usual anti-Semitic slogans. She said: "I don't
owe you anything you dirty Jew! Get out of here and out of our land." And she went on
and on, yelling about the rotten Jews that were trying to steal from her. Papa was trying
to leave, but he could not. All this happened on the street in front of her house. Due to
her screaming children and some grown ups had gathered around him and did not let
him get away. The woman shouted: "Bring me an SA man." Some of the kids ran off to
look for one. Papa asked them to please try to bring a policeman. Well, the SA men
came first, two of them. Without asking any questions they took papa in their midst and
started walking with him down the road. My dad resisted and showed them his Polish
passport, which they promptly took away from him. Papa knew where they were taking
him, it was called a "brown house," a gathering place for the Nazis; where they had
taken Jews and other "enemies" of Hitler and nobody came out alive. Papa was walking
very slowly and they started hitting him with their rubber sticks all over his body. He
stopped all the while they were hitting him more and more; but papa saw at a glimpse
that far down on the high road a policeman on a bike coming after them. It seems that
one of those people that had gathered around my dad, got a hold of the policeman and
he jumped on a bike and came after them. Now of course Papa went even slower than
before, disregarding the kicks and blows of his tormentors. They were already very
close to the brown house when finally the policeman caught up with them. Papa always
referred to this policeman that he was a Malach, an angel. He was sent from G"d. You
see, at that time in Westfalia the police was already out of power. Now this policeman
asked them what they wanted from my dad. And they said something that my father
had no right to work there and that he was trying to get money from Germans who did
not owe him any, all this and more mingled with dirty slogans against the Jews. The
truth was, my dad had no permit to work there. He had the business and permission to
work in it. Out there only the salesmen had a permit. So the policeman asked my dad
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whether he had a permit, and Papa said yes. Papa checked in his pocket and took out
a piece of paper and handed it to him. The policeman glanced at the paper, returned it
to Papa, turned to the two Nazis and said to them: "This man has legal papers to work
here, let him go. And to papa he said: "Get going." He did not have to say it twice. Papa
ran, as fast as his feet could take him. He even left his suitcases behind. Was the
policeman a malach (an angel)? It is clear that not ALL Germans refused to help us in
our misery!
The way my father looked, when he came home that night, are imprinted in my brain
and I see him in front of my eyes: he was bloody and bruised all over. He said over and
over that he was sure at the time he was on the road with the German SA, he would
never see us again and he was worrying the whole time, what would become of us.
Things became worse, when Frau Haber came late in the evening, looking for her
husband. He had not come home yet. Right then and there my parents decided that it
was too dangerous for Papa to stay in Germany. On April 16th, 1933 Papa left
Germany without a passport over the border to Holland. I will always remember that
morning when Papa bent over our beds to say good bye. We all had a very heavy
heart. The next morning we received a telegram from Holland. My father was safe.
Herr Haber unfortunately never returned. He was found a few days later in a lake. He
was terribly tortured, his genitals were cut off, and he had 5 bullets in his body. There
was no police investigation. He was a Jew! He left behind a pregnant wife and a twoyear-old child.
It was about a week after Papa had left for Holland that the persecution began. First
two SA uniformed Nazis came looking for Papa. Mutti told them that she did not know
were he was. Then Mutti received a menacing letter - I believe it was from the same
gang. I don't know what was in the letter I only know that Mutti was crying a lot and
going to see friends, to see if they could advise her as to what she should do. Then a
few days later Mutti was called to appear at the police. They asked for Papa. Mutti said,
that she did not know where Papa was. The police and the SS continued to come to our
home. Always looking for Papa. On one of these occasions they asked Mutti for her
passport and all other documents like birth certificates, etc. Mutti handed them over to
them and they kept them. They were always threatening and cursing us. There is no
way I can describe the terrible pain and fear it caused us. Then came an overdue tax
bill, to be paid in a few days or they would impound our furniture. Sure enough, a
couple of days later they came to put an impound stamp on it. I remember, they
stamped an eagle under each piece of furniture. They were trying bring Papa back and
to terrorize us to the hilt. Mutti was in contact with Papa and she saw that this was not
going to get any better, but rather worse. So she asked Papa what to do. Papa
suggested selling whatever she could, and leave the country. Mutti was not a bit
business oriented; but she managed to sell the four room apartment, beautiful heavy
furniture, a Persian carpet, like new, the kitchen stove, we had that new stove only for
about four years - Mutti's pride and joy which cost Papa 600 Mark! - a grandfather
clock, and all the wonderful things one accumulates in 16 years of marriage. But
everything with a German eagle on it impounded for 300 mark, to a German known to
be an anti-Semite. They were supposed to pick up the furniture on May 18th. So Mutti
loaded Betty and myself on to the train on May 17th and sent us to our uncle Chaskel in
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Essen. He did not know of anything that had happened. Everything went so fast and at
that time we did not have any telephones to communicate with each other. Mutti and
Rosa stayed to pack a few things Mutti did not want to leave. Everything she packed
was left with friends who would later forward it when we would be settled somewhere.
The day I left Dortmund I was only allowed to say farewell to my girlfriend Henni and
her family. Nobody else was to know we were leaving. I will forever remember the day
when Betty and I left Dortmund on a train, all by ourselves. I was almost twelve years
old and Betty was five years old. I was scared. I looked out at the houses and the roofs
we passed by. It was a sunny day but to me it seemed dark and when we passed the
fields, woods and meadows I could not see any beauty in it any more, I felt so lonely.
There were SA men in our compartment, they were loud and making all sorts of antiSemitic remarks. Some of the passengers joined them and they were loudly laughing. I
did not realize that I was holding Betty very tight to me, I was crying, until a very nice
lady across from us in the same compartment, asked me why I was crying. She asked
me if I had any pain and if she could help me. I dried my tears and had to tell her that I
was all right. I could not possible tell her what it was that was scaring me. We arrived in
Essen. My uncle and family had moved to a different apartment, one to which I had not
been before. I knew how to get to the old apartment; but, although, I had the address
with me I had to search for it, I had to ask people for directions and I was scared. After
all we went through whom could I trust? We finally found the address. My uncle and
aunt Clara received us with open arms but were horrified at what had happened. I told
them everything and said that Mutti and Rosa were coming the next day. The following
day in the evening they came. And now they started planning on how to get out of
Germany, without any documents to identify us. You may have difficulty appreciating
what it means to have no documents at all; in Germany without documents you are
nothing! There is no comparing the feeling to that of an illegal alien in the USA!
May 19, 1933, was some kind of a holiday. My uncle had found out that there was a
church right next to the frontier in Aachen on the other side in Holland the city was
named Arnhem, I am not sure about the name. Anyway we were supposed to go into
the Church and leave on the other side, something like that. The departure from Essen
was heart breaking. We did not know whether we would ever see each other again.
It was a beautiful sunny day when we arrived in Aachen. We left the almost empty
station. I still see it in front of my eyes, there were wide stairs going down to the street.
Since it was early Sunday morning, the station was almost empty. We went down to the
street and there was nobody on the street whom we could ask for direction. On the far
right corner stood a young blond SA man. We were walking up and down a few steps,
as if we were waiting for somebody to pick us up. There we were, only the four of us,
not knowing in what direction to go, we felt so terribly alone. Finally Mutti decided to ask
the SA man for help. We went over to him and Mutti told him: "I am a Jewish mother
with my 3 children. We are on our way to Holland to join my husband and my children's
father who is already there. But we have no passports and no identification and we
need help. I put our lives in your hands. You can help us or you can turn us over to the
police. Please help us!" He looked us over and then he said to Mutti: "You are a very
brave woman. I am going to help you." Then he told us to stay around there and wait for
him. He was going to get a taxi with a driver who was allowed to drive in Germany as
well as in Holland. He assured us that he would be back with help and not to be afraid.
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He was very young and seemed sincere and we had no other choice, we waited. It
seemed to us that he was gone for hours and finally he arrived in a taxi. He explained to
us that this was not the driver that would take us to Holland. The SA man could not get
a hold of him; but this German driver would find him for us. Not to be afraid. Mutti tried
to give him a tip for his help. He refused. He said that we will need the money. He was
a very nice young man.
The taxi driver was also very nice. Noting how afraid we were he assured us that he will
find the Dutchman who could bring us to Arnhem, Holland, and not to be afraid. He said
that by evening we would be in Holland. He was driving us around and finally he
stopped right at about 30 feet away from the frontier barriers, we could see the German
frontier guards with their bayonets walking up and down. Then there was the no-man'sland and on the other side the Dutch guards. The driver told us that he would find the
Dutch taxi driver around there. He told us to stay in the car and wait for him. How can I
write down the fear and the anxiety we felt. We were putting our lives in the hands of
complete strangers. We had no other choice now and we were very lucky. Only Betty
was as happy as ever and very difficult to keep her in the car. She was a darling child,
full of spice and life. After what seemed to us an eternity a taxi stopped parallel to ours
on the left. Our Driver got out and motioned us to get into the other cab. He introduced
us to the other driver, who spoke a very broken German and he assured us that this is
the man that will take us out of Germany and into Holland. He too only accepted from
Mutti to pay his fare and also refused the tip. At that time in May, 1933, there were still
some good Germans around who would to help Jews in their misery. To you our
friends, goes my gratitude.
Now we really started moving, this driver meant business. He drove us out of the city,
into the woods, out over the fields, in and out of villages and again through some other
woods. I don't know how long we were driven around. At one point he turned around
and told us that we did not have to be scared any more, as we were already in Holland.
Then we arrived into a city, which he said was Arnhem. He drove us around and
showed us the train station, but he did not stop in front of the station. He explained that
could be dangerous, we were not carrying any baggage. It would be better to be
walking and then enter the station. He also showed us from where we could send a
telegram to my father to let him know when we would arrive in Amsterdam.
After he had let us out of the taxi a block away to the station, we realized that we did
not speak Dutch and how would we find out about when and where we would arrive in
Amsterdam. While we were walking toward the station, we spotted among other people
passing by, an old man, obviously a Jew. Mutti said that she had to try to talk to him, we
needed help. Mutti went over to him and greeted him with the Hebrew words: "Shalom
Aleichem a Jid" it translates peace be with you Jew. And sure enough, He answered:
"Aleichem Shalom" He was the first Jew we encountered in Holland. He was a big help
to us. First he took us to his home where his wife started feeding us, because we were
starved. The whole day we had not eaten anything and it was about 6:p.m. Then he
went with Mutti to buy the tickets to Amsterdam and send the telegram to Papa. We ate
dinner with them and then they took us to the station, which lead us into another phase
of our life. Those were very good people, are they still with us? Who knows? This was
our Exodus from Germany.
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Holland May 18 1933.
After Mutti paid the driver she also changed enough German Marks into Dutch money
for us to be able to buy some food and to get us where Papa was in Amsterdam. We
walked to the Telegraph Company and sent a telegram to Papa to let him know when
we were to arrive in Amsterdam. We had some time until the train was leaving and we
had to be careful not to call attention to ourselves, everybody spoke Dutch and we
spoke German. Finally we boarded the train and arrived late at night in Amsterdam. The
station was crowded with people. We looked for Papa and did not see him anywhere.
Then we noticed men in civilian clothing with white arm-bands around their sleeves with
the words Hilfskomitee, committee for assistance in German, written on them.
Apparently we were not the only refugees coming from Germany and the Jews of
Holland had already started an assistance organization that preceded the HICEEM *.
We contacted them and after we told them that we could not find Papa, they checked
the telegram Mutti had send and found out that Papa was waiting at another station.
They were very nice to us, brought us to a hotel, and finally, almost at mid-night,
brought Papa to us. What a reunion!!!
The following morning we had to go to the Jewish Fluechtlings Komitee, Committee for
Refugees. There were so many refugees that had to be taken care of, that we had to
wait for many hours for our turn. We found out that refugees like us without any money
were put up with nice Jewish families. (Mutti had not done any thing with the store,
because it was sealed up when the lien was put on it, and most of the money Mutti got
out from the sale of the furniture, was already spent.) But there was no family available
for a family of five. Most of the refugees at that time were single men or couples without
children. The solution they finally found was, that we three children were to be put into
an orphanage until a better solution was found. There was also the question of getting
duplicates of all our documents and new passports. We children were desperate. First
they were separating us from our parents and then sending us to an orphanage? We
absolutely did not want to go. I remember crying my heart out and when I cried Betty
cried too. Rosa did not want to go either but she was calmer. After all she was a big girl,
15 years old. They did not give us a choice if we wanted their help, we had to do it their
way.
Now our new life in the orphanage began. First we were given a bath. The truth is we
needed that badly, then they gave us clothing from the orphanage since we did not
bring anything with us. We left Germany with only the clothes on our backs, no suitcase
or packages. I am ashamed to say it now. I complained about every thing. All this still
lives vividly in my mind, the clothing was rough and ugly, the beds hard -- a thin straw
mattress over a wooden board, the blankets were scratchy. All in all I felt miserable and
the first nights I cried myself to sleep. We all, I mean my sisters and I, felt the same way
about it. May 21 was my birthday I was 12 years old. My parents came over and took us
out to see the city. It was all so different from what we were used to seeing. The canals
with boats in them and the bridges that lifted up to let bigger ships go through. The
cyclists, so many of them, especially when they had to wait for a bridge to go down to
let them ride through. There was really a lot to see. And it was so good to be together
with our parents. Unfortunately they could not come too often, because they lived very
far from us. We also had to help in the kitchen, not only we; but all the children. We had
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to wash and dry the dishes and had also other chores. We did not go to school. I don't
know why. Maybe it was because the school vacation were going to begin soon, or we
did not know what was going to happen with us. Would we maybe go back to
Germany? Would that crazy regime last? Or where would we go? We certainly could
not stay forever in the orphanage. We also had a big problem, the language. I don't
know how long we stayed in that orphanage, but we finally had enough. I don't
remember what brought it on but the three of us decided to run away.
To run away was not so easy because we had to pass by the office and there was
always somebody in the office watching. That day, we noticed a lot of people in the
office, there was a big discussion going on. I remember, we sent Betty to go first and
wait at the entrance door, then I went passing the office in a bend down position and
then Rosa followed the same way. Nobody saw us and we went out into the street. It
was a long way to where our parents lived and Rosa thought she could find the way.
She had gone there with our parents a few times; but we got lost. At first it was fun.
There was a lot to see in this big city. We were wandering around in the streets with
canals, boats, and people. I have never seen so many people in one place before.
Betty became very tired and started crying. We were tired and hungry. We had no
money and it was getting dark. We were finally picked up by the police. I think, but can
not remember, whether Rosa approached the policeman. Then we were reunited with
our parents. They had been looking for us the whole day and were happy to get us
back. That night we stayed in the room with our parents.
The following morning we had to go to the committee. We did not want to go back to
the orphanage. My parents had not yet received duplicates of our documents, because
that takes time and there was no place we could go without those papers. A new
decision was made. Rosa was to stay with my parents and Betty and I would be going
to Den Haag, the city of the Queen. There was a home for children were just one of
their parents were gone and the one parent left paid for the support of their child. No
orphanage uniforms and only about 24 children were there. In the orphanage in
Amsterdam there were about 80 children. They promised us that we would like it.
While we were waiting at the committee until all the arrangements were made for our
move to Den Haag, we saw all those new refugees, there was no end to it.
Unbelievable stories were told about the brutalities and murders going on in Germany.
People disappeared from their homes and were picked up on the streets and never
seen or heard of any more. What was going on? And that only because we are Jews?
How long was that situation going to last, and were would we all go? These were
questions for which no one had an answer. Finally the arrangements for Betty and me
were made and Mutti was supposed to take us the next day to Den Haag.
That day I remember very well. It was a beautiful sunny day. Coming out of the train
station it seemed to me like a city for dolls. It was so beautiful, so clean. The houses
were painted in light colors. Over the windows there were awnings all in green, let down
to shade them; but you still could bend out of the windows and maybe talk to a neighbor
without pulling them up. The streets were not crowded at all. No canals nor pull up
bridges and only a few bikes. It was like coming to a different planet, particularly from a
busy City like Amsterdam, it was like entering heaven. All these details I would not
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remember now, had I not written down these memories in Shanghai in 1945 while they
were still vivid in my mind. There were streetcars going and they were not ringing the
bells, as we were used to in Germany. But it also was a Sunday. After we had looked
around and getting very impressed with everything we approached a policeman,
because we did not know where to go. He walked with us to the Plettery Straat were the
home was, he was so friendly. What a surprise. The lady at the committee was right.
There was no comparison to the orphanage in Amsterdam. In my eyes this was a
palace. Every thing was absolutely out of this world. It was a three-story building with a
large entrance, large windows, nine across the width of the building, all with the same
green awnings on each floor. We rang the bell and a young lady opened the entrance
door and let us in.
If we were impressed with the outside, we were even more so by the inside. The lady
that had let us in was the cook. Nobody else was in the house. All the youngsters were
with their nursemaids at the beach. The servants had their day off and the Directrice,
the principal, her husband, and children were on vacation. School vacation had just
started. So it must have been about the end of June when we got there. The assistant
to the directrice was also at the beach with the children.
Margit Schlesinger, the cook, showed us around. That home was pure luxury; I had
never before seen such comfort. On the lower floor, right across from the entrance, was
a large playroom. There was a beautiful piano, large lockers for each child to put his or
her toys in and their own keys to lock them up. In the center wall was a large life size
painting of her Highness, Queen Wilhelmina of Holland, dressed with crown and
scepter. The floors were shining with the chairs and tables standing around, a dream.
On the first floor were the sleeping quarters for the boys, the second floor for the girls
and the third floor was for the servants. She showed us on the lower floor the kitchen
and dining room. The kitchen was separated in milk and in meat departments,
everything was modern clean and looked like brand new. There were no bunk beds and
in the bathrooms each child had his own sink. The towels were soft, and so was the
bed linen. After Margit had shown us around, she invited us to the garden to vesper, a
mid afternoon snack. What a garden that was! Tennis court and a big place to play
Voelkerball (volleyball). It was a big playground with all sorts of games one could
imagine. When we left Amsterdam, I was not so sure that I wanted to be left there alone
with Betty; but I sure changed my mind in a hurry. We never had it as good as this. It
still seemed to me like a dream from heaven. Come to think about it now, the whole city
and surroundings looked like that and was so beautiful. Could it be that it was because
it was the Queen's city? The palace were the Queen lived with her family was in walking
distance, about a ten minutes walk.
Now we sat down in the garden. Margit had set up a table in the garden and she served
chocolate drinks and cookies. We had a good time. Margit spoke a flawless German
and she told us in short her life story, which I will tell here.
Margit was Hungarian, from Budapest, from a very good -- and she thought rich -home. Her mother died when she was very young. Her father lived in a very high style,
throwing money left and right as if it were growing on trees. Suddenly, Margit was 18
and her brother 17 years old, her father had a heart attack and dropped dead. They
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were both at the time going to the University in Budapest. The father left his children
with more debts then there was money. The home was taken away from them, it was
just enough to pay his debts. From what their mother had left them, there was just
enough to pay the University for one. Margit decided that her brother should study and
she would go to work. Margit was very proud she wanted to work, but not in Budapest
where everybody knew her. She wrote to her aunt in Den Haag and asked her to find
her a job, any job, as she had no experience at all. Her aunt found the job in the home
for her and that way she became the cook for the home. Margit had no idea of cooking.
She hung on the phone with her aunt asking her how to prepare meals until she learned
how to cook. Lots of meals were spoiled; but the directrice was very nice and she could
see how much Margit tried to get better. So she overlooked all the spoilage. By then
she had been there three years and became a very good cook. She also helped her
brother so he would be able to continue to study. Margit and I became very good
friends during our stay in Den Haag, even though there was a great difference in age. I
believe it was mostly because for me she was the only one with whom I could speak in
German, and for her, she could practice with me her German so she would not forget it.
Betty learned to speak Dutch and forgot German, I had a hard time learning it. We went
almost daily to the beach, I loved it. We walked through the woods to Scheveningen, a
long way; but worthwhile. Very often I would walk alone. I liked to sit across of the
Queens palace. There was an old, green Lindenbaum (lime tree). I always brought a
book with me and quite often I would just sit and dream. I would dream of how nice it
would be if we could settle in Den Haag. How wonderful it would be to live there forever.
I also loved to go through the city streets and to the palace of the queen's mother.
Every weekend either Mutti, Papa, or Rosa came to visit with us and I just loved to
show them around. We were there about three and a half months. One morning Mutti
appeared surprisingly to pick us up. We were emigrating to Spain. My dream to remain
in Den Haag had come to a sudden end. I will never forget the farewell of these
outstanding people who had made a home for us, loved and cared for us. The
departure was traumatic. I have never been back there. I hate to think of what had
happened when the Nazis took Holland and what became of all the lovely people.
On our way to Amsterdam it felt good to be together with my Mutti. With all the love I
felt for the city and their wonderful people, I had missed being with my parents and
Rosa very much. All the way we laughed because Betty and Mutti did not understand
each other and I had to translate. I found out that our neighbors from Dortmund had
sent everything Mutti had left and packed dishes, bedding and clothing to Amsterdam.
Also the passports and the duplicates of our birth certificates had arrived. The one
place we could go to was Spain. There also was a possibility to emigrate to Argentina at
that time; but my parents decided against it. They did not want to go so far away,
because they thought; "How much further can this murdering and torturing go on,
before the German people rebelled? Has everybody in Germany gone blind? And how
long could this craziness in Germany go on?" Refugees came by the hundreds daily,
with horror stories a horror storywriter could not imagine. It was all so unbelievable.
That could not go on for long. Papa left his business there, He dreamed the day would
come and we would return. He said it would be easier to go back "home" from Spain.
We stayed two more days in Amsterdam. Mutti and Rosa were now the ones to take
Betty and myself to show us around, It was very nice. We went to the beach and to
enormous flower gardens with so many flowers it seemed to me like a sea, marvelous.
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While we were wandering around, Papa was trying to get a transit visa through France.
We had everything ready, the entrance visa to Spain and the transit visa through
Belgium the only thing missing was the French transit visa, the consul in Amsterdam
refused to give it to us. Papa even went to Rotterdam to see the French consul there.
He also refused it. At the committee they told Papa to try to get the visa in Belgium.
It must have been the end of August or beginning of September when we finally started
on our journey to Spain; but first we stopped in Antwerp, where we arrived late in the
afternoon. As in Amsterdam, refugees were pouring out of the trains and people from
the committee were there to take care of them as well as of us. Again we had to go to
the committee there and after waiting a long time, they were so busy with all the
newcomers so many, they assigned us a room in a "Hotel" and gave us coupons for
food in a kosher restaurant. Since it was late and we were all very hungry we went first
to eat. We were only carrying two large suitcases, the rest of our baggage was going to
be send to us once we were settled. It was a very nice restaurant, the tables were set in
white linen and we could eat as much as we wanted. It was also filled with refugees.
The subject of the conversation went on like this. Were should we go? How long is
Hitler's regime going to last? Will we ever be able to go back? Should we try to go
overseas and start a new life? Question after question and no good answer. At the time
I did not understand too much of all those things; but I understood the seriousness of it,
only looking at the worried faces of my parents and all the people around. I had actually
enjoyed the travelling and the excitement of new, strange languages, it was like a real
adventure. But then I was only 12 years old.
It was very late when all the discussions broke up and we finally went to the "Hotel".
We got our first surprise: It was a real tavern. Loud, stinky and dirty. Half naked, women
drunk and smoking with men just as drunk as they were, came laughing and screaming
down the stairs as we arrived. As we passed by them we could smell the liquor from
their mouth. We had two little adjacent rooms adjacent on the on the first floor, with a
door in the wall connecting the two rooms so we children would not be alone during the
night. This was the night we got introduced for the first time to bed bugs. We were very
tired and went to bed to get some sleep. Not a chance. As soon as the light was turned
off, we were itching and scratching. We did not know what was happening to us. So we
turned on the lights and we knew. The beds were covered with bed bugs. The same
thing happened to my parents, we left the lights on, for the whole night. And it was not
only the bugs that would not let us sleep; but also the laughing, screaming and loud, socalled, music. It was a disaster. Later I found out that this tavern was rented out to
prostitutes, by the hour. After a sleepless night, Papa went to the French consulate.
They too refused us the transit visa. So Papa said we will have to try the Consul in
Brussels. Again we traveled by train this time to Brussels. As it was too late to see the
consul we had to go through the same things as in Antwerp. Again we met new
refugees. It did not seem to end. The tavern we had to go to was not any better then
the one the night before. Same noise, same dirt and the same bed bugs. We were
tired, dirty and hungry. Our bodies were eaten up by the bugs, we were itching all over
and covered with red itchy spots. Our feet hurt from running around so much and we
had no success with the consul in Brussels. Mutti and Papa were desperate. What was
there to do? All the while when they were worrying I was dreaming of a hot bath and a
clean bed and to sleep. At the end Papa decided, we will go without the visa.
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I think it was about 12 noon when we got in a hurry, on the wrong train. One of the
conductors got us off the train at the last minute while the train to Paris on the other
side of the same platform left the station at the same time. The next economy train to
the same destination was due to leave at mid-night. We were all ready to collapse.
There was one conductor who felt sorry for us and he spoke a broken German. He told
us that there was a Pullman train leaving in one hour to Paris. If Papa would pay the
difference in the price, we could be on it and would not have to wait for 12 hours. Well
these last days had been so bad, that my parents were ready for any thing. Papa paid
the difference and we left Brussels in comfort for a change at 1 pm.
Mutti had taken one of her down comforters in one of the suitcases, and that was good.
Although the compartment we were in was very nice, with upholstered benches, but is
was cold. After all it was September and in Europe it is already cold, especially at night.
So Mutti wrapped Betty up in the comforter and she slept like an angel. We grown-ups
cuddled up and kept each other warm. It was very cozy, because we were alone in the
compartment. This was a very comfortable trip, the best one in our whole journey. But
there was no way we could even think of sleeping, we were scared. What if they don't
let us go ahead? What will we do if they take us under arrest and then ship us over the
German Border? There have been cases like that. The French and the Swiss did it. We
did not know what was going to happen to us, we just had to wait and see what destiny
had prepared for us.
It was dark when we arrived at the border between Belgium and France. I forgot the
name of the border city we crossed. From the train window we saw the border police
boarding the train. They started in the first compartment, we were almost at the end of
the train. How can I describe our anxiety and our thoughts, until they arrived in our
compartment? My heart was pumping so hard, I thought every body could hear it. Now
they arrived in our department, three officers. They looked through the suitcases and
one officer asked for our passports. He looked through the pages and could not find
what he was looking for. He asked Papa in French for the transit visas, we did not
understand the language; but knew what he was looking for. Papa played stupid and
showed him over and over the Spanish entrance visa. The three officers were
discussing the situation between themselves and then suddenly, taking the Passports
with them, leaving us in the compartment waiting. What now, will they send us back or
will they let us go on? The uncertainty was very painful. Lastly one of the officers came
back, handed Papa the Passports, saluted and left. We were free to travel through
France. Can you hear the sigh of relief we let out? A few minutes later the train moved
on, we were on our way to Paris.
Paris, September 1933. At about 10:30 p.m. we arrived at the station Gare Du Nord in
Paris. Papa and Mutti had decided not to sleep a single night any more, in one of those
taverns. We had to be able to take a bath and sleep in a clean bed like human beings.
So across the station was a hotel, the Hotel du Nord and without discussing it any
further we went in. Papa took two adjoining rooms with bath, fantastic! After taking a
bath and changing clothes we felt human again. After that, we went to the dining room
of the Hotel and ate a marvelous meal. This night we slept like in heaven, without bugs,
noise and screaming prostitutes. Papa was in the spirit of spending, so in the morning
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after a succulent breakfast, we rented a Taxi and were driven to the Eiffel tower and to
the Arc de Triumph. We could not see much more as we had to be at the station before
noon. It was a nice day, I will never forget.
Now we boarded the train to our future home Spain. I think I remember it right. We
stayed on the same train for about two days and two nights. We ate and slept on the
train. When we arrived at the border between France and Spain, we had no difficulties
at all and went on. It was raining cats and dogs and it was cold and humid and with our
warm clothing on we were still freezing. I remember that shortly after we passed the
border, we had to go through a long, long tunnel. Coming out of the tunnel, the sun was
shining it started to get warm, we had to open the windows and change to light clothing.
The difference was like from day to night. I was admiring the landscape through cities,
woods and fields, until we arrived in Barcelona, port of our destination.
Spain from September 1933 to April 1938
It was a bright Friday morning about 9:am when we arrived in Barcelona. It was a very
busy train station. We stood there and did not know were to go. The Hotel busboys
were swarming around, trying to get our suitcases and to take us to their respective
Hotels. After all, we were strangers and with strangers they usually made good
business. Papa had a letter from the committee in Holland to the Jewish Community
Leaders in Barcelona as there was no Refugee Committee in Spain. While we were still
standing around trying to figure out our next step. a middle aged man in Hotel boy's
uniform approached us and asked us in Yiddish, if we needed some help. He told us to
wait until he had taken care of some customers and then he would help us. In a short
time he came back and introduced himself as Señor Kaplan and Papa told him, in
short, our story. First he took us to a Cafeteria across the station, ordered cafe con
leche y medias lunas, coffee and croissants. Then he called a taxi and send us to the
direction were the Jewish community was supposed to be. I remember it well, it was at
the corner of calles (street) Barnes y Provenza. We later found out that Señor Kaplan
was a notarized interpreter in King Alfonso's employ. He spoke 13 languages and in
order to get the job with the King he became a Catholic. With the fall of the King he lost
his job. He was married to a non-Jewish woman. Later he came often to see us. Now
back to the Jewish community. It was a real nice and long ride. We arrived there and
did not find anybody there. The place was like a schul, the top floor for Ashkenazim
(European Jews) and the bottom floor for Sephardim (Eastern Jews). Speaking with our
hands and signs we understood from the cleaning woman, that no one would be there
until the evening for Sabbath prayers.
There was a nice little garden on one side of the house were we waited for someone to
come; but nobody came. We were all alone there, waiting and waiting. At noon a lady,
also a refugee, but she came from Portugal were she had been for a few months. She
managed with her little Portuguese to find out were the Police station was and since it
was close by, she and my parents went there to register our presence in Barcelona. We
stayed behind hungry and thirsty and the sun was burning. When my parents came
back, they brought us some fruit and bread to still our hunger.
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At about 4 pm Señor Gruenwald came, he was a Macher(Yidish: a person who can
arrange things) in the Jewish Community. He read the letter Papa gave him, then he
went with Papa to look for a place for us to stay. For the time being we were finally
settled in a Jewish boarding house, which was owned by a family with the name
Bergman on calle, street, Aribau. The whole boarding house consisted of a flat on the
first floor. They only rented two rooms out, the rest of the rooms they used as a
restaurant. We were lucky to get a room there, because just that morning the people
living in that room had moved out.
I like to inject here, that at the time all this happened, the people taking us around had
no cars as we have today. We had to go on our own little feet. Some times, if available,
we would take public transportation. Therefore when people helped us and others, they
really spent lots of time and effort for their Mitzvot (Yidish: good deed).
I remember the room, it was not too large; but we were happy to be together and to stay
together. No more separation from each other, and no more wandering around. For the
first time in the last week I felt at ease. I recall lying down and falling asleep relaxed.
When Mutti woke me up, it was already dark outside, it was Sabbath, our first one in
Spain. We entered the dining room. The tables were set with the Sabbath candles.
People sitting around the tables. Conversations going on in all sort of languages.
Russian, Polish, German, and of course, Spanish. It was a very small Jewish
community in Spain, and not too many refugees. Later on more refugees arrived. On
this first Sabbath dinner we met Rosa's future husband, Max Ries. He had his eyes
right away set on Rosa. He was very helpful to us. He came from, Sanok, Poland. I
think he was in Spain for some time. He also had spent some time in Greece. His
Spanish was good. He helped Papa to find our first apartment and rented a room from
my parents.
After two weeks Papa and Max found a nice 5 room apartment on Avenida de la
Generalidad 90 2a. If you ever get to Barcelona, look it up. This was our first home
away from Germany. My parents had to buy only the absolute necessary things like
beds and a table with chairs, since there was no money to spend. I do not know
whether my parents received some monetary help from the Jewish community; but I
suppose they did. In the meantime our boxes with everything Mutti and Rosa had
packed in Germany had also arrived. Most of the dishes were broken; but everything
else that came was helpful to our poor living. Even the boxes the stuff was packed in
became handy. Papa build shelves from them, nothing was going to waste. We were
very poor; but happy to be alive and together. If only there would not be "BED BUGS".
No matter how much Mutti cleaned and burned them with all sort of chemicals, after a
little rest from them they always returned. Besides the bed bugs there were fleas; but
everybody suffered from them. You picked them up where ever you were, nobody was
excluded, and it's all a matter of getting used to it. We became used to look over our
legs and catch them before entering the apartment not to bring them in.
Now Max moved in to one of the rooms and about two weeks later his brother Mendel
moved into another room. Mendel too had lived in Germany and was also a refugee
from there. We heard more and more horror stories. We three children occupied one
room and my parents the other, the fifth room was the dining room. Kitchen and bath
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did not count as rooms. Now we had two borders and Mutti cooked for all of us -- it
helped us a lot. Max had established a small business in Barcelona, Foto Olympia he
called it. There he enlarged pictures. He needed salesmen for that; but of course they
had to speak Spanish fluently. The way it was handled was: the salesmen had to travel
around the neighboring cities and all over Spain, go from door to door and try to
convince prospective customers to have the pictures of their loved ones enlarged and
framed. It was not a very profitable business; but he made a living with it. Max advised
Papa and, also Mendel, to first try to sell ties, tie pins, shaving brushes and cigarette
holders in little towns and on their fairs until they learned the language. Most refugees
did the same thing. So that was what Papa started out to do.
I wanted to go back to school, After all, I was only a little over 12 years old. At that time
there was no public school in Spain, no obligation to send children to school. I hope that
has changed. One day Papa went with me to a little neighborhood school. That day I
will never forget. When I close my eyes I can see it all before me. The school consisted
of 2 classrooms built in the backyard of a large apartment building. There was a tiny
little room adjacent to the classrooms, where one of the teachers negotiated with Papa
about my getting into the school. The price was 31 Pesetas a month. Papa could not
afford to pay that much money for my education. For the first time in my life I saw Papa
cry. He said under tears: "my child wants to learn and I don't have the money to pay for
it." All the way home I had to calm my poor father down. That was, for now, the end of
my schooling.
The Jewish Community had found a job for Rosa in a doll factory, she earned 18
Pesetas a week. Since I could not go to school, they also found a job for me in a zipper
factory. I had to stretch zippers and bundle them. I also earned 18 Pesetas a week.
When I say factory here, that does not mean a big building with hundreds of
employees. These were all new immigrants, some had been able to bring some money
with them, so they started little businesses to try to eke out a living. Just like Max's
business. He had a photographer who, in his home enlarged and framed the orders
Max brought in. For the 18 Pesetas we worked 48 and sometimes more hours than
that; but we needed the money, it helped. I just want to tell you what the so called
Mehler's zipper factory consisted of. The zippers were brought in big boxes. I suppose
they came from the manufacturer. They were all made on white linen, just like they are
now, only in one color, white. So at factory the zippers were dyed into different colors.
The colors were mixed in boiling water and the zippers cooked in it. After they were
cooked for a while they were rinsed, then stretched, laid out on large carton papers and
put in the sun to dry. After that, they were stretched again and bundled. I do not know
what Rosa's work consisted of. I worked there for about 2 months. One day Señor
Mehler, my boss, came to me and asked me to learn the dyeing. The girl who was
doing it was getting married and leaving the job. For one day she showed me how to do
it and the next day I was on my own. The dyeing was done on a kitchen stove and I was
too short to look in to the big kettle to do the mixing. A bench was brought in on which I
had to stand when doing my job. Don't forget, I was only twelve and half years old! For
a while every thing went fine. I even got a raise to 21.50 a week. But then I don't know
what happened. Suddenly the zippers came out spotted, no matter what I did every
color came out spotted. I know I did every thing exactly as I did it before. Señor Mehler
came to me and told me that I had ruined a lot of merchandise and I was fired. I was
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desolated. I begged him to give me some other work. He gave me some homework to
stick hair-pins onto cartons, I could not even earn water for kasha with it. I went to look
for something else.
I tried door to door selling, went to a tailor for some time to learn sewing, I did some
baby sitting I always did something to earn some money. I got to baby sit with a little
boy for a few weeks. That was actually very nice. His mother worked at night, there was
no father. They had a room in a German boarding house and I stayed over night and in
the mornings with the little boy. In the mornings I took the boy to the park so that his
mother could sleep. There was only one bad thing about this job: the people in the
German boarding house they were staying at were a bunch of verbissene Nazis,
obdurate and zealous Nazis. They listened to Hitler's speeches and heiled him
constantly. I always closed the door to the room not to hear them. They always had
something derogatory to say to me. At that time, with the money I earned I worked with
a refugee teacher to finish my grammar school education. He, like us, had to run away
from Germany and tried to make a poor living by teaching. One day in the park with the
little boy, I spoke German with him. One curious sitter asked me what I am. When I told
them I was Jewish they all looked at my head for horns. They did not believe that I was
Jewish. They said "You don't have horns, you are not Jewish." So much for their
ignorance.
My Spanish was bad. I did not dare to talk. Betty played on the street in front of the
house with her little friends and she told me that they thought I was mute because I
never spoke to them. One day, it must have been almost a year after we arrived in
Spain, I heard Betty screaming: "They are hurting me." I ran down the stairs and I let go
in Spanish telling those kids off, to leave my sister alone. All of a sudden I did not care if
anyone laughed at me. From then on I did not hold back any more and my Spanish
became better and better.
At about the same time when I lost my job at Mehler's, Rosa came home one day from
her work with the dolls very excited. She told my parents that a new girl about the same
age as Rosa, had started to work there. A beautiful girl, blond and blue eyed, she was
working together with Rosa and a few other Spanish girls. In the afternoon she was
called to the boss's office. Through a mirror the girls could see that their boss was
molesting the girl. The girl defended herself by biting and scratching him, so he sent her
back to work. She was disturbed and upset. When her parents came to pick her up, she
behaved like crazy. She laughed and cried and screamed and did not want to go with
them. My parents were shocked. The following day she did not come to work. At that
time our tenant Mendel was on tour and we had one free room. Mutti went to the
Jewish community to let them know. Every day new immigrants arrived in Barcelona all
with new terror stories. Two days after the incident at the doll company, the community
sent us a family to see the room. This family was the same as the one Rosa had
mentioned, the couple with the beautiful girl, family Backman. Mary, their daughter, was
behaving very normally. They liked the room and decided to move in two days.
It was a Friday, when I came home from some work I was doing at the time, they had
already moved in. It seems like yesterday, so vivid is it in my mind. Mary, the girl was
crazy. She danced, she cried she sang, simultaneously and then she locked herself in
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Max's room, which was facing the front street, and appeared stark naked on the
balcony, laughing her head off. It was a sight. She was a beauty. Her father climbed
over from one balcony to the other, opened the connecting door she had locked. Papa,
her father, and Max brought her in with lots of difficulty. In the mean time the whole
neighborhood had gathered in front of our house. It was a frightening night. She was
after a while calmed down. Her parents told us that this had never happened before.
Mutti thought that maybe Rosa's boss had something to do with it and she felt sorry for
these people, so she told them what Rosa had seen. Well, all hell broke lose. Rosa did
of course lose her job. Now Rosa and I had lost our jobs.
I tried to get for Rosa the job I had lost. Señor Mehler was a very nice man and he gave
her the job. I was with her to show her what to do. She, grasped it right a way, and she
did a very good job. We were all very happy. Then she was working about 2 weeks her
hands started swelling and she developed an eczema that looked frightening. Señor
Mehler took her directly to a doctor, and the doctor said that Rosa could not continue
doing this work. She could not work with dye. It took many weeks for Rosa to get better.
That was the end of her job. Our struggle continued.
Back to Mary Backman. They moved from place to place and could not stay anywhere
because of her craziness. They finally had to institutionalize her. Herr Backman called
on Mutti to let Rosa go out to the institute to stay with Mary. Mary had nobody to talk to
and she did not speak any Spanish. He would pay Rosa eight pesetas per day and for
all the food too. Rosa went out there; but was back the next day. She was a nervous
wreck. She told us that Mary had some sort of a crazy attack, so they tied her to the
bed and hit her with a whip. Poor Mary was screaming like a wild animal. Rosa could
not take it, had she stayed for a longer time, she might have gone, G"d forbid, crazy
herself. Mary got out of the institute after a while and was doing all right. I went to visit
her lots of times. The Backmans always lived in hotels, they must have had a lot of
money to live like that. Her father was a very distinguished looking man, tall, grey
haired, and always dressed like a gentleman. Papa called him a Hochstapler, a fake.
I always had been a skinny, small girl, skin and bones. In the short time in Spain I grew
up and developed to be a real Señorita. I remember the day I got my first period.
Although I had seen something like that with Rosa -- she was hiding it from me -- I was
scared. I called my mother to show her what had happened to me. I was so ashamed.
Mutti said that I was growing up and it was time to tell me the facts of life. I, believing,
that I knew everything -- remember the flohkino movie about prostitutes I saw in
Germany? I did not want to hear these dirty things from my mother. So I said, that no
explanation was necessary, I knew it all. I am very sorry I did that and even more sorry
that Mutti did not insist to know what I knew and who had informed me. With Rosa I
was never on good terms especially to talk of such intimate things. I still did not know
the facts of life, my own stupidity.
Mutti decided that it was time for me to learn a profession. So I went to work as an
apprentice to a dressmaker. I started out cleaning the floor and picking up pins,
needles, and basting seams together using a thimble. For a few months I was not paid
for it. As I was progressing I received a few pesetas for my work. On April 15 1934
Rosa became engaged to Max Ries, a year and a half later they were married. I now
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worked steadily during the seasons learning sewing. During off-seasons I did all sorts of
things, take homework. I covered buttons, knitted bras. During one off season I even
rented a sewing machine to make Pluesch (Yidish: plush, a velvety material, coats and
made nice money with it. I got the coats cut and bundled and all I had to do was
stitching them together. I was always doing something to contribute to our household.
In the meantime we had changed apartments. We had moved to calle Provenza 60 3ro
4. It was a much nicer apartment, no bedbugs. We always had to struggle for a living.
We actually lived from hand to mouth. Saving was not possible and we could not see
that there was any hope to go back to Germany and to recover what we had lost there.
So life went on struggling. Most of the time Papa was away on tours. He traveled all
over Spain peddling merchandise and selling enlargements. It was a very poor
existence. But from all the news we heard from Germany, we were lucky to be alive.
We met a new family by the name Parnes. They lived 2 blocks away from us, on the
same street. They had a daughter named ‘Best Friend #1’, she and I became good
friends. I think she was one year older then I. They used to live in Essen where my
uncle had lived. I forgot to tell about my uncle. While we were still in Holland, uncle
Chaskel tried to take money out of Germany. He was caught at the frontier and
arrested. The money was taken away from him and my aunt Klara had a hard time to
get him out of prison. Aunt Klara was an ardent Zionist, and just about that time she
received the Certificate to go to Palestine. She also was pregnant and it was showing.
She begged and cried and with the Certificate to enter Palestine, they finally let him go.
They moved as fast as they could to Palestine. My cousin David was born there, he is a
sabra (a Jew born in Israel). It had gotten as bad in Essen as all over Germany and it
was getting worse. Max Parnes was one of the lucky ones, he could take all his
furniture with him and the whole family. The family that came with them were ‘Best
Friend #1’, her brother, Mr. Parnes' brother and sister, Herman and Peppi, and Peppi's
little girl, Helen. They even brought ‘Best Friend #1’'s piano along. It was so nice to go
to their apartment with nice furniture and carpets all over. Before I met ‘Best Friend #1’ I
was pretty much a loner. I hiked to the mountains up whenever I had the time for it.
Mutti packed for me a backpack, water and a sandwich. I took a good book with me. On
the mount Tibitabo I had a spot under a tree. One could hear the silence. Looking down
from there you could see the Mediterranean Sea, and the mountains around it was so
beautiful. Then with ‘Best Friend #1’ we did things together. ‘Best Friend #1’ continued
to go to school, her parents could afford it. We had a good friendship going; but I could
not really get too close to her. I could not even tell her about what I saw in that movie in
Germany. There was something about her that held me back. Maybe I thought she
would laugh at me. She did not take everything as seriously as I did and so I could not
open up to her. She also told me time and again, "If my mother ask you whether I have
been with you today, just say yes because they trust you." I really did not like to lie, but
she said: "What are friends for?" One time when I asked her were she was going, she
said that she was not doing anything wrong; but she knew that her mother would not
allow her to go. She went dancing and she asked me to go with her. I told her that I
would not do anything my parents would not allow me to do; but she insisted. She said
that I did not have to dance if I did not wanted to, just to observe. After her insisting a
long time, I decided to go with her and find out. After all she was a very bright,
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intelligent girl, she spoke German, Spanish and Hebrew perfectly, and played the piano
like a pro. She would not do anything wrong. I did not believe she would.
One afternoon I was free I went with her to a local dance hall, its name was Fox Now.
Girls could go in for free, the men had to pay. We sat at a table and the men came
asking us to dance. I declined every time; but ‘Best Friend #1’ danced every dance and
was very excited. She asked me to at least try it once. I really did not see anything
wrong with it so I danced with the next man who asked me. The dance parquet floor
was very crowded and that man was holding me very tight. I asked him to loosen his
grip and he in turn held me even tighter and on top he put his face so close to mine I
could smell his breath. I stepped on his foot with all my force, he let go in a hurry and I
let him stand in the middle of the parquet floor and went back to the table. That was the
end of my going with her to dance. But that was not the end of that man I danced with.
When my parents took me one time about a year or more after that incident into a
dance cafe, who do you think asked me for the first dance? That same man. He was
German, a refugee like us. I had to dance with him at least one dance because I could
not tell my parents why I would not want to. So the one dance was all I did dance that
day as I refused to dance with him again. While we were dancing he asked me
innocently; "Did we not dance before together?" I said definitely not. I felt very bad that
day. Mutti told me when I had refused to dance with him again, that I could not dance
with any other men as that would be offending to this man. Again I only danced that one
dance; but at least this time he danced properly.
More and more refugees arrived from Germany. The situation over there became worse
by the day. People were picked up from their homes and never seen again. The same
thing had happened to Peppi's, ‘Best Friend #1’'s aunt, husband. Her husband had
gone out of the house while still in Germany. If I remember correctly from what ‘Best
Friend #1’ had told me. They had an argument; but he never came back and they could
not find him. You know, the police would not help to find a "dirty Jew." He would not
have left his wife and child and just disappeared, especially at a time like that in
Germany. That is how it came about that she came with her brothers to Spain. Although
her brother was very well off, she had a terrible life living with them. ‘Best Friend #1’*'s
mother treated her like a servant. I liked Tante Peppi, we all called her that, very much
and I really felt sorry for her. The Jewish Community grew quite a bit. Organizations
came into existence and ‘Best Friend #1’ and I joined up with a Zionist group.
At first the group was very small, but we started to learn Hebrew, and to prepare
ourselves to eventually move to Palestine. The group became larger and petitions were
made to the British who were occupying the land for certificates to allow us to move to
Palestine. We had some very educated leaders, one of them had been a playwright in
Germany. He wrote some Zionist plays for us and we put on some very nice shows. My
voice became handy in the plays. We made musicals and others. It was a little change
in our lives. ‘Best Friend #1’ became infatuated with one of our leaders. He was
married, and it passed. We had some very nice group leaders, Sarah Glanzmann and
Lotte Hausman. Lotte was a very nice girl, she left with her family for Palestine in 1936.
Sarah was nice; but very conceited her family was very rich. Although she was very
Best Friend #1 refers to a friend who shall otherwise remain anonymous.
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intelligent and spoke several languages fluently, I liked her brother Samson much better
then her. He had only one big fault, he was ultra orthodox. Only two years older then
me and I was very religious; but his was already meshuggas (Yidish: crazy). Just to give
you an example. No girl got a handshake from him and no girl could touch him. We all,
the group went on an outing to the sea. ‘Best Friend #1’, Samson and I we were the
best swimmers in our group. That day I found myself far out from shore only Samson
was out there with me. We liked to swim far out, it gives you a feeling of freedom and
quiet. ‘Best Friend #1’ and I when we were all alone far out, we even took off our
bathing-suits, tied them around our necks and swam in the nude. What an elated
feeling it gave us. Back to Samson. Suddenly I heard him moan. I asked him worriedly
what his trouble was, he told me that he had a cramp in his legs, in booth of them. Any
swimmer can tell you that is not very pleasant; and also can be very dangerous. I had
learned life saving techniques in Germany, I even had been given a certification for it.
So I wanted to use my knowledge on him. I tried to put him on his back and on my back
to put my two hands holding his face and thus swimming on my back pulling him back
to shore. Fat chance. He screamed: "don't touch me, are you crazy, leave me alone!"
He would not let me help him. He kept himself over water with his hand movements and
with lots of pain got himself out of the water. He asked me not to tell anyone about it.
He came to the wrong address with me. No sooner were we all together at the beach, I
told everybody about his meshuggas. He got so much laughter about it that he got
cured. From that time on he became not less religious; but he shook hands with girls
and did not exaggerate any more.
We did not have a steady home for our meetings. Mostly we got together on Sundays in
the social room of the synagogue; but quite often we got together in private homes. We
always had a good time when we got together. I got carried away from the plays we did.
We always had affairs or plays on Chanukah, Purim, Simchat Torah and all sort of
other occasions. The nicest things were the rehearsals. I always had the singing parts.
We were a happy bunch, as happy as we could be under the circumstances we were
living.
Mutti took us often to the beach, as often as my work allowed. ‘Best Friend #1’ went
almost every time with us. We loved to swim together. One time Mutti, Betty, ‘Best
Friend #1’ and I, were swimming and playing in the water having a good time, when a
boat with two young Spanish boys stopped in front of us and asked if we would join
them for a little ride in the boat. We begged Mutti to let ‘Best Friend #1’ and me go.
After all we had never been in a boat before. It was an open boat like a ladder build with
a sail put up. The sea was calm and there was no danger. Mutti finally gave her
permission; but only to stay within the barrels. We got up the on the boat in a hurry and
away we sailed. Wow! What an experience, we seemed to be flying. Who thought
about the barrels and not going far out, we were free like birds in the sky, like the fish in
the water. We were so elated I just can not describe the feeling. When we were far out,
the boys took the sail down and we all decided to jump from the boat head on into the
deep water and swim around. We were happily playing around when the life guard boat
came along and ordered us girls to get on his boat. Mutti had sent him out to get us.
Mutti was observing us with the life guards binoculars, saw us jumping in to the water
and the young men after us and thought they were molesting us. When we got back to
the beach it was getting dark already. Nobody but Mutti and Betty were there. Out in the
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water, we did not notice that the sun was going under. We also did not realize how far
we were out. Do I have to tell you the welcome we got from my Mother? We were
grounded, and when I say grounded, it was for real. For one month we were not
allowed to go to the beach. Secretly we went swimming again. It was the biggest
pleasure we had, and it did not cost anything.
One Sunday Mutti was supposed to go with us to the beach; but it was very windy and it
was announced over the radio that no swimming was allowed as the waves were sky
high. Mutti said she would not go to the beach, she knew that once there she would not
be able to hold us back from going into the water. We said that we would go for a hike,
but went to the beach. The beach was crowded as always on Sunday; but signs were
up not to go into the water. Those waves were really high and a great challenge to us.
We went in cutting the waves and enjoying it immensely. We got to the barrel and
rested there. Suddenly we heard a call for help. Socorro! Socorro!, Help! Help!. We
called back where are you? The huge waves did not allow us to see the caller. It was
the voice of a man and it became weaker and weaker. Then we saw his head and arm
struggling to stay over water. He was about two body lengths from us. Quickly we
decided what to do. ‘Best Friend #1’ grabbed my leg while holding on to the cord of the
barrel and I stretched out full length over the water trying to get a hold of his hand. I
could not get a hold of it as the waves were throwing us up and down. Finally I got a
hold of his hair and I pulled with all my might. He got a hold of my hand and now he
pulled me down with him. Thanks to ‘Best Friend #1’, she did not let go of me and with
combined effort we pulled him to the barrel. The man, he must have been about 28 or
more had swallowed a lot of water, he was only half conscious. We tried press some of
the water out of him which was impossible with the waves swallowing us all. We could
not get him out by ourselves. We were afraid we would all drown. We decided that ‘Best
Friend #1’ would swim back holding on to the line of the barrel to get help, while I held
on to the barrel and to the drowning man. Believe me it was not an easy task. When
‘Best Friend #1’ came back with a boat and lifeguard, it seemed to me that hours had
passed. I don't think I could have lasted much longer. The lifeguards brought the man
back to life and ‘Best Friend #1’ and I got bawled out for going into the water while it
was forbidden – in spite of having saved a man's life.
Time passed and years went by. It was not an easy life. Papa was mostly all over Spain
but almost never home. Only for the high holidays was he always with us. There were
days when we did not have money for bread. But then there were other days like the
ones I spoke of before, they made up for it. By the age of 15 I was already a full fledged
dressmaker. We went through two small revolutions, I mean they only lasted for a few
days. There were more girls I had befriended, but mostly I went with ‘Best Friend #1’.
Then came the time when Rosa and Max wanted to get married. Max needed his birth
certificate from Poland and sent for it. He waited for months and it did not come. They
set the date for December 29 1935. His birth certificate did not arrive. They decided to
get married by Jewish law only.
Nothing came easy for us. Rosa had always had beautiful hair. The day before the
wedding they were especially nice. One of the neighbors came in and was admiring her
hair constantly. Later every body said she was given a Nehorre, evil eye. On the
morning of her wedding day, Mutti awoke Rosa at 5 am to give her a glass of milk,
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since she had to fast all day. Rosa said: "I don't know what happened to my hair it is all
wet." Mutti turned the light on and saw that her head was one big wound. The hair was
sticking to Rosa's head. It was a big mess. Mutti called the doctor, he came over -- at
that time doctors still made house calls -- he could not say what was wrong. My parents
did not know what to do. Papa went over to Parnes, because Max had stayed over
night in their house, to tell him about it. He suggested to postpone the wedding until
Rosa was well again. Max did not want to hear about it. He said that all the guests were
invited and everything was prepared, the wedding went on. It was difficult to pin the veil
on Rosa's wet hair; But she was the most beautiful bride I had ever seen until then. The
wedding was in our apartment. They got married under a Thallit-Chuppah. Everybody
ate, drank, danced, and were merry. All in all it was a beautiful affair.
Rosa suffered a long time with her hair. No doctor knew what it was, no one could help
her. Had Rosa been well, they would have gone the day after the wedding for a short
time to San Sebastian; but having the problem she had the money saved for their
honeymoon went to the doctors. Finally a professor of the University Hospital helped
her and she got well again. They took a late honeymoon for a week or so, a half year
later and came back one day before another revolution broke out. Unlike the others we
went through over there, this one turned into a civil war. It was good that they were
home and so was Papa, otherwise who knows when and if they could have gotten
home.
The date the civil war broke out was July 26th 1936, we were almost three years in
Spain. I remember it was a Sunday. That day we were supposed to go on an outing into
the mountains with our group. The shootings had been heard all through the night.
Even so Mutti had gotten up at 4 am to prepare my backpack because she knew how
much I was looking forwards to it. But she told me when I got up, that it was not a good
idea go out of the house. I went over to ‘Best Friend #1’'s -- she only lived two blocks
away on the same street. None of us had telephones. Her parent said the same thing
and so we did not go. Later we found out that the outing had been called off. At the
beginning it looked like the revolution would also be over, like the others we went
through, but this became the real thing. Now times became really bad. No work, no
money came in and there were shootings on the streets. Every family was hoarding
food, anything they could lay there hands on. With the little money we had we had we
also bought whatever we could. When we went out of the house to walk on the streets,
we had to tie a hanky on a stick and wave it over our heads, otherwise we might be
shot at. Barricades were build, right across from our building. Shooting and more
shooting never a quiet moment, when would it stop?
One block away from us on the opposite side, was a prison with political prisoners, it
was called Carcel Modelo, model jail. With binoculars we could see what was going on
there. After the war was going on for about 10 days we could see how the guards were
being disarmed and the prison was taken over by the communist army. The political
prisoners were being armed and released. Close to us was a military barrack. We saw
Spaniards armed with only sticks and stones, reapers, and pitchfork in front of the
barracks, enter the barracks and come out armed to their teeth with all sort of weapons.
They were fighting heroically. It was about two weeks after the beginning when
Barcelona was completely taken over by the communists. Now we had a breather. It
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was again possible to walk on the streets without fear of being shot at. Here and there
were some incidents; but otherwise it was peaceful.
But the fighting continued all over Spain and that was very bad. Food became very
scarce, because nothing came in from out of the city. I remember one time specifically.
There was a bakery two blocks from were we lived. They had somehow received flour
from somewhere and a big line was formed before the store. The line grew and went
around the block. I was standing in line with all the others. We were all taking turns after
one or two hours. What shall I tell you, after waiting the whole night when it came to us,
there was no more bread. This was only one instance, there were many others. Since
the situation in Spain went from bad to worse, the other countries who had their citizens
in Spain, send ships to pick them up. It was very busy in the port. As one of our leaders
from our Zionist group left we went to the port to see him off. He also took the money
we had collected to send to Palestine. We don't know if he or the money ever arrived in
Palestine. We never heard from him again. Also Mary Backmann left with her parents
for Italy.
There was nothing we could do to make a living. Even dressmaking was very slow. We
had time on our hands and nothing to eat. It was a hot summer and we went to the
beach, always with Mutti. Here I will write about one particular event. ‘Best Friend #1’
and I were out swimming. Mutti lay in the sun napping. A man passed by looking at my
mother, left and came back casting a shadow over Mutti's face and she opened her
eyes looking into the man's face. He was an old friend, Leo Weissmann. My parents
knew him from before they got married. They were so happy to see each other after
such a long time. While they were talking Mutti had forgotten to look out for us. When
she looked, we were very far out. She asked Leo Weissmann to swim out and bring us
back. He was also a very good swimmer and was out there in no time. You have to
know that the Spaniards are very hot people and in the water they would always try to
touch us. To stay out of reach we went always far out. Mostly, the Spaniards were not
such good swimmers and would not go that far. When we saw that man coming that far
out and swimming toward us, we became scared. There was a bamboo stick floating
nearby so I grabbed it and when he came closer to us, I waved the stick and shouted to
him in German not to come any closer to us or I would hit him over the head and all
sorts of other things I do not remember. We were not lady-like. Of course I did not
realize that he could understand me. Now, to our surprise he answered, also in
German, saying "I did not expect such a reception, I am leaving, I am leaving, you are
too dangerous for me." He started laughing, turned around and swam back. We were
startled and embarrassed, but we thought so what, we did not know him any way.
When we came back to shore, another big surprise, That same man was sitting in the
sand next to my mother and laughing his head off. That was the way we met Leo
Weissmann.
As far as I can remember – but I am not really sure if it was that way – he ran away
from Lueneburg, Germany, with his sister and her family to Spain and they settled in
Palma De Mallorca. He came to Barcelona on some business when the war broke out
and was cut off from going back.
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Life really began to go from bad to worse. I remember Mutti making corn mash for our
meals. We had to fill our stomach with something. Something had to be done to bring in
some parnosse, income. Max started by opening a position on the corner of Ramla and
San Pablo, offering ties, leather belts, pocket books, and other things for sale. Papa did
the same next to the mercado, market, San Antonio. It affected every profession in life.
My dressmaker did not have any work either, so I helped Papa to sell the merchandise
on the corner. We stood there offering our merchandise. Some days we did better than
others; some days we did not sell anything; but at least it kept us somehow above
water. Out of nowhere more and more street sales people came out with merchandise
to sell. We were all in the same boat. Next to our place two Sephardic Jewish young
men had opened their own place. ‘Best Friend #1’ and I knew them from our
organization; they were Miguel and Raphael Saban. They were fabulous salesmen. I
can still hear their praising their merchandise: ¡Pero oiga, pero mira, una peseta hoy!
Listen, look, only one peseta today! They specialized in towels, but sold whatever they
wanted, they were so handsome and so friendly. Everybody liked them and so did ‘Best
Friend #1’ and I. ‘Best Friend #1’ liked Miguel and I liked Raphael. One day Raphael
tried to kiss me and that was the end for me; because I knew, he was not serious and,
as you know, I had my principles, only one man was going to kiss me! – remember the
Flohkino movie about prostitutes I told you about. I suspected that ‘Best Friend #1’ had
a thing going with both of them. I know she told me, that she went out with them on
several occasions.
Life in Barcelona became increasingly worse. The war went on, terrible fighting was
going on all over Spain. The civil war would never have lasted so long if Hitler and
Mussolini had not helped General Franco by trying out their new weapons over the
population of Spain. They tried out their bloody maneuvers in Spain to be used later on
in World War II. About a half-year after the war broke out we had almost daily
bombardments over Barcelona. We had nothing to laugh about. We could see the
German and Italian bombers dropping their bombs. They did not care whom they hit,
schools, hospitals, fleeing women and children. We could even see them using
machine guns on fleeing people – it was gruesome. During this time Rosa was
pregnant. Shortly before she was suppose to give birth, Max received his birth
certificate from Poland. So they had their civil wedding one month before the baby was
born. On April 9 1937 she gave birth to a strong little boy, Joni. She was lucky, because
during the whole week she was in bed, there were no bombardments. Rosa had her
delivery in our apartment with the help of a midwife. I was not allowed in the room; but
when I heard Rosa's last big scream followed by silence I ran into the room just in time
for the midwife to hand the baby to me. I held him in my arms as he was screaming all
red in his face. I could not take my eyes off of him, he was so beautiful. At that time I
decided to become a midwife; but Mutti did not want to let me – she said it was not a
job for a Jewish girl, whatever that meant.
Well Rosa had her baby. The baby was born on Thursday. The first Friday after a
Jewish boy is born a Sucher is celebrated: the family serves wine, schnapps and
leikach, honey cake. Max asked all the friends and family he could get a hold off to
come and enjoy with us the happy event. On that day I met for the first time Chaim
Rogozinski, he called himself Hans.
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Meyer Engelhard a cousin of Max shared an apartment with Hans, so when Max came
to invite his cousin he met Hans and invited him too. I can still see him when he came
in to the house. He brought carnations for the new mother and congratulated her. I had
never met him, so he was introduced to me. He also came to the Brith Milah,
circumcision, and to the Pidyon ha Ben, the Jewish ritual of redeeming the first born
from the tribe of the Cohanim, and so I got to know him a little more. I must say that he
made a very good impression on me. He was always nicely dressed, clean, and had
good manners. In May there were again street fights in Barcelona and mostly in the
neighborhood were Meyer and Hans lived. So they came over to the house and stayed
for days with us sitting there and playing cards.
It is very interesting when I think back. There was a war going on, people were killed by
the dozens and life went on. There was hunger and pain, bombs and gunfire, sirens to
warn us of an attack, air raid shelters and overflowing hospitals, blood, blood, so much
blood and maimed people and life went on. The struggle for survival did not stop.
People got married, had children and got used to the horrifying terror around them.
WHAT IS IT THAT KEEPS US HUMANS GOING? I do not know. I did not really
understand, what it was, what they were fighting about. I did not understand anything
about politics. I only knew that we wanted to continue, to go on living. It was living in
misery.
I remember shortly after the civil war had started, our Zionist groups had received
certificates to go to Palestine. Boys and girls got married so they could go on one
certificate. I too wanted to do that, meaning to have a pro forma marriage in order to go
and to be admitted by the British government. Mutti wrote to uncle Chaskel in Petach
Tiqwa. He said it was very difficult in Palestine, so my parents did not allow me to go.
My life for sure would have gone in a different direction. It was not supposed to happen.
So Hans was coming very often to the house. On the corner of calle Provenza, in the
same block where we were living was a tavern. When Hans came over, he used to go
to eat there. We did not have anything to eat, so there was nothing for him in the
house. Sometimes he invited me to come with him and Mutti said I should go. He was
friendly enough; but I could not say that I fell in love with him, absolutely not. Then one
day he told us his story. He had come from Poland, Kalish, to Germany, where he had
two brothers, Schlomo and Josef. Both of them were married, had children, and lived in
Berlin. If I remember well, it must have been in the year 1928 or 29. All three brothers
left Poland in order not to serve in the Polish army. I don't know what his brothers did to
make a living there, but Hans told us that he started out to be a travelling salesman. He
later settled in Munich and did the same thing from there. In Augsburg he met a non
Jewish girl, lived with her and she had a child from him. In 1934 during Hitler's regime
he was still living with her. He was arrested for Rassenschande, miscegenation of the
races, and send to the Dachau concentration camp. When they let him go, it was with
the order to leave the country within 24 hours. He arrived in Spain still in 1934 and
started working selling fountain pens and pencils on street corners. He had a little
suitcase where the pens were in, it opened to a folding table and from there he was
selling. And that was his parnosse at that time. My parents thought it was very nice that
he told us about the girl and about his little daughter and he said he loved that little girl
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very much. His parents and three sisters were still in Poland. He was in contact with his
brothers and with his parents.
As I said before, life continued in the same fashion. Between all the tzores we even
went dancing and of course swimming; but always with Mutti as chaperon, almost
always with an empty stomach. I really did not have any feelings for Hans, not any
different than, for example, for Leo Weissmann. Weissmann and ‘Best Friend #1’
became very friendly with each other and often we went together dancing and
swimming. It was the only things we could really afford. Leo made a proposal to Papa
and Max on how to make some money. I really don't know what it was, I only know that
they were discussing it very much and then decided it was too dangerous and they did
not go into it. Since it was too hard to make a living in Spain and we saw no end to the
war lots of people left Spain. Mendel and Mayer left too. I don't know were they went.
Later we found out that Mendel had gone back to Poland and from Mayer we never
heard again.
It was in June 1937 I was only 16 years old and I had known Hans only about two
months, when one day my mother asked me if Hans had asked me already. I really did
not know what she meant. So my answer to her was: "What should he have asked me."
So she said if he wanted to marry me. I had not expected this from my mother. I was
hurt. All I could think of was that my parents wanted to get rid of me. I tried in my mind
to justify the thinking of my parents. Of course, it would mean for them to have one
mouth less to feed; but on the other hand, I had always contributed to our living
expenses. Even now I was working with Papa helping him sell his merchandise on the
streets. The worst thing was that I was not even asked if I wanted to marry him. I was
devastated and I had nobody I could talk to. Rosa and I never got along when we were
young. To Mutti, may she rest in peace, I always felt that I could not do anything right.
Rosa was the oldest and she was always right. Betty was the youngest and she was
babied and I was in the middle and no matter what I did there was never any
recognition. So I decided that should he ask me to marry him I would marry him.
I have to inject here that when I was 13 years old I got my period. I did not really know
what it meant. Even though Rosa was trying to hide it from me, I knew that she was
menstruating. She never said anything to me about it and I did not ask her. So when I
started bleeding it was a shock to me and I told my mother. I can still see Mutti sitting
on my bed on one side and Rosa on the other side. Mutti said she will have to tell me
about the birds and the bees. But I was too ashamed that Mutti should tell me about the
dirty things that I had seen in the movie in Germany. So I said to them that I knew
everything and that they did not have to explain anything to me. Neither Mutti nor Rosa
asked me what I knew or who had told me. I swear to you my children, that all I am
writing here is the truth, and if you think after reading this that I was the most stupid girl
in the whole wide world, YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT. I was and I suffered for 25
years because of my stupidity.
On one Sunday morning ‘Best Friend #1’, Leo , Hans and I had decided to go
swimming to the beach. We were supposed to meet at 5 am. ‘Best Friend #1’ and I
arrived at 5:30 am. Only Leo was waiting for us, Hans had already left. I was angry that
he did not wait and had decided not to have anything to do with him any more. When
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we arrived at the beach he was waiting for us and acted as if nothing had happened.
He later said that he did not like to wait for anybody. He would only wait for up to fifteen
minutes, that was his limit. Since it was a quiet day, we went dancing in the afternoon,
up on the Tibitabo. It was a beautiful place, a large garden around a skating ring. During
the whole week people were skating there, but twice a week it was open for dancing.
Rosa, Mutti and Papa came with us it was a beautiful day. I loved to dance. While I was
dancing with Hans he suddenly asked me if I would marry him. I said yes and he kissed
me right then and there, and I did not like it. Two days later he asked my father for my
hand in marriage. I guess it was not Papa's idea to let me get married so young,
because he tried to talk me out of it. I would have loved to get out of it. But Hans had
kissed me (remember the Flohkino movie about prostitutes) and besides Mutti wanted
to get rid of me – I really believed that. Also I really did not know that there was
something else besides kissing, boy was I wrong.
A date was set for our engagement the 15th of August 1937. It was a Sunday. The
whole week we were baking and preparing with the little money and supplies we had,
for it. Then a few days, on Thursday before the engagement, Mutti said to me that she
would prefer for me to call the engagement off. When I asked why she said that he was
not compatible with me. Suddenly all of my family was against him. I was confused. I
could not understand what was going on. Mutti had asked me before he even had
asked me to marry him and had declared that they my parents would favor this alliance.
When I told her that, she said it was a mistake. I did not see any difference from then to
now. So why all this commotion? He had not done anything to me that I could consider
different than before. I had accepted his proposal only because I felt that my parents
wanted to get rid of me. Then he kissed me and that was crucial to me, but that was not
his fault. Had I not answered yes to his proposal, he would not have kissed me and
nothing would have happened. He told me that he loved me and I believed him. When
he asked me if I loved him, I told him the truth: that I really did not know what love
meant and that I liked him and that was all. He said that in time I would learn to love
him and that he was patient. Lots of things went through my head. All the preparations
and his excitement. He had written to his parents and brothers about our engagement. I
could not do that to him nor to myself. All these years I had kept my promise to myself
that ONLY ONE MAN WAS GOING TO KISS ME. That was it. I was going to marry
him. I found out soon enough that my parents were right, he was not the right man for
me; but I can only blame myself for my sufferings.
The engagement party could have been very nice if we all would not have been so
down hearted. Papa said we should only give each other a promise, but Herr
Kuenstlinger, who was called before all the commotion to write Tnojim, conditions for
the marriage, insisted in just doing that. Now we were engaged to be married. Every
day after that my whole family was after me to cancel the engagement. But I stood on
my grounds.
The situation in Spain was considered the worst of all times. More German and Italian
bombers. France declined to get involved. Communist volunteers were coming from all
over the world, but General Franco seemed to gain the upper hand. We Jews, refugees
from Germany were afraid that if Franco would come to power, what would he do with
us? Would he turn us over to the Germans? We had to look for an escape, where to?
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Some of our friends had found out that it was possible to go to Argentina. If you
purchased first class tickets and traveled as tourists, you were granted visas. Max
looked into it and they decided to leave for Argentina. All of us could not go as there
was not enough money to go around. So Max and Rosa decided to be pioneers. Scout
out the country, legalize themselves there and send papers for the rest of the family. I
will never forget the day they left Spain. They had to travel first by train to Marseilles
and take the boat from there because no foreign ship landed any more in Barcelona.
Max's last words to me were: "don't marry him he is not good for you. You will be very
unhappy if you marry him." He was right of course, but even at that time when I could
already see many faults in Hans, I thought he would change once we were married.
Something happened, Leo Weissman was arrested at the border between Spain and
France. I think he was caught carrying gold out of the country. He was jailed in the
Carcel Modelo across the street from our apartment. Somehow ‘Best Friend #1’ got him
out of there and he went to France and stayed there.
Papa and Hans started working together. They bought merchandise to take to the
towns close to where the soldiers were fighting. They sold a lot of merchandise and
made a lot of money; but that was not all. From the country side they brought lots of
food back. Food that was impossible to get in Barcelona. Naturally we started to buy
gold and clothing and all looked rosier for us. But it was also very dangerous, because
the trains were constantly bombarded. The whole situation was very scary; but we had
to make a living somehow.
The newspapers were always asking for volunteers for the Red Cross. There was a
shortage for first aid during the long air raids. Teresa Sanchez, a neighbor friend of
mine, and I decided to enlist. We had to walk a long way to the Red Cross Central
Station to sign up. It was on calle Diagonal y Paseo De Gracia, on a beautiful clear day
on our way there, no bombs. After filling out the forms the bombing started and how!
For hours with no relief bombs were falling to the left and to the right. The sky was red
from fires. We waited for it to stop – not a chance. It was already 9 pm. so we decided
to make a run for it. We were running for our lives. Trucks with pieces of bodies were
passing us by. They did not even cover them any more. It was so dark outside we could
not see our hands before our eyes. Only the bombs and the searchlights from the air
defense flack lit the streets. We were running and running. Not a person on the streets.
All we could hear were defense artillery and bombs falling and roaring airplanes. We
arrived across the General Hospital, when a bomb hit the hospital. From the pressure
we were thrown into the open gate of the fire department. We were so lucky. Because if
the gate would have been closed we would never have made it. The firemen picked us
up from the floor and we got away with only scratches and bruises. They did not want to
let us go; but we ran away anyhow. We knew that our mothers were waiting in terror.
We finally arrived home and only after a long while the all-clear sounded. This was the
way Teresa and I joined the Red Cross. I am sorry to say that we did not help them
much. After we had gone several times to help, we had to leave it. The human waste
was too terrifying, all that blood, screaming, cut limbs and dead mothers with their
children in their arms and to think that moments ago they were alive and normal healthy
people just like us. Thinking, where will this terrible monster WAR get us? We could not
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stomach it for long. When we came home after an air raid, we could not eat or sleep.
Mutti did not let me go any more seeing what it did to me.
From Rosa and Max we heard regularly. They had settled in Buenos Aires. Life there
was not easy; but at least there was no war. They had started to arrange for their
legalization to live in Argentina and had hopes that they would be able to stay. After that
they would send us a llamada, affidavit, to come. It was the beginning of September
when they had left Spain and during the months that followed the situation in Spain had
become so much worse.
As I wrote before, Papa and Hans continued working the little towns close to the war
scenes. There was a lot of danger involved. The trains were constantly bombarded.
Once the train they were on, got hit. Luckily they did not get hurt, but they lost a lot of
expensive merchandise. In the midst of all that I was pulled from two sides. My parents
wanted me to dissolve my engagement and Hans wanted to get married. At that time I
became very depressed. I was crying a lot and felt in general miserable. I was not alone
being miserable, everybody I knew was just as miserable with the war going on as it
did.
General Franco was winning. There was heavy fighting going on over Madrid. The war
was going on already for a year and a half. It was in January 1938. If we thought it
could not get worse, we were mistaken. Not one night could we sleep through. Papa
and Hans prepared for the largest transport ever to send to the countryside – all in all
37 crates. One of the workers made a bad move and a crate filled with Brilliantine fell
down the stairs at the station. The cleaning up took a very long time so they could not
go with that train and wanted to go the next day. The merchandise was send to Caspe.
When they tried the next day to take tickets to Caspe, they were out of luck. Franco's
soldiers invaded Caspe during the night. They could only get tickets up to Mora de
Ebro. Hans wanted to go there, hoping that the merchandise did not go all the way and
maybe he could bring it back. Papa held him back. He said it was too dangerous the
trains were bombarded and the Fascists coming closer and at the end he could be cut
off and not be able to return. They tried to get the merchandise back through telegrams,
to no avail. We did find out that the boxes went only to Mora De Ebro; but until they
could do anything about it, Mora De Ebro was also taken by the fascists. It was all lost
to us. One good thing, they had not send the gold fountain pens as they always carried
them each in two suit cases with them, because they were so expensive. That was all
that was left for us from that business.
It was in February 1938. All the little towns were Papa and Hans had been working
were taken by the fascists. Lerida fell. Barcelona did not have any more electricity and
no water. We had to pump water from the fountains on the street corners. Barcelona
was under fire. Franco announced that the city would be bombarded from now on
constantly. We, my parents , Betty, Hans and I escaped to the mountains. After
extreme effort to get on a train in the underground that would take us out of the city, we
finally made it. It seemed to us that the whole city was escaping. I had not been in an
underground station for a long time and I could not believe what I saw. Whole families
were living there, stretched out on cloth and papers. Little children with their mothers
begging for some bread. Those were people who had lost everything they owned and
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had not even a roof over their heads. It took us hours to get to the mountains. We went
to San Cugat, a little village in the mountains, Mutti, Betty and I stayed at a peasant's
house and Papa and Hans with other peasants. We went to eat at a tavern. It was not
bad, but the stew they served us was sweetish. Later I found out that we ate horse
meat. After being in the hills for two days we found out that Barcelona did not have
even one bombardment. We decided that Hans and I would go back to Barcelona to
see if the apartment was still there and to see if there was any mail from Rosa.
Everything was all right – no mail from Rosa. We went the same day back to San Cugat
and stayed there five more days, during which the Germans and the Italians destroyed
more of the beautiful city of Barcelona.
And the war continued, the men could not go to work any more. They had not gone for
over a month now. No money was coming in; but lots of tzores and bombs and
destruction and dead. And in the midst of that, Hans wanted to get married. He wanted
to try to go with me also to Argentina the same way Rosa and Max went. Somehow we
got Papa to sign for me that I could get married in civil – after all I was a minor. And
there we ran into a very unexpected problem. When Mutti and Papa had married, they
had only a Jewish wedding. It was a wedding unauthorized by the German Authorities.
When we went to city hall, they wanted to see a German wedding certificate, which my
parents did not have. Papa showed them the their Ketubah; but they did not accept
that. They told Papa that Betty and I we are not Feuerstein but we should be Hilsenrath
after my mother's maiden name. What shall I tell you? Papa had to take a lawyer and
my parents had to get married in Spain. It was very funny, the evening before they got
married Papa asked Mutti: "Dora, Are you sure you want to marry me?" Anyway, when
we finally could get married, on the way to city hall Hans told me that in his birth
certificate he was older then what he was in reality. He was 33 years old while he had
claimed to be only 28. He told me a story about the parents making their boys older in
order not to serve in the Polish army. I did not say anything, but I was very
disappointed. He was twice my age plus one year more. We only had a civil marriage,
not Jewish. The date was April 12, 1938. The Jewish wedding was to be in June on
Shavuoth. Two days before our civil ceremony on April 10, 1938, Hitler's Anschluss with
Austria came into effect. More Jews, those of Austria, became terrorized. The news of
that hit us very hard, What would be the next terror.
As we had planed to go Argentina, we knew that we needed a certificate of good
conduct for the past five years. Since Hans had only been four years in Spain he
needed one from Germany as well. He had applied for it already at the beginning of the
year. When it finally arrived it said that he was previously convicted for Rassenschande,
miscegenation of the races, under the new Nuerenberg Laws in Germany. No country
in the world would recognize that as a crime, since this had only recently become a
crime in Hitler's Germany against the Jews. No other country; but Argentina. The
consulate refused to let us go there, even first class. From Rosa the mail came
regularly. By the end of April she wrote that she had already applied for a llamada for us
and that she hoped that by the end of August we could be in Argentina. Hans was not
included.
It was about two weeks after our civil ceremony, that Papa and Hans got into a big
argument, business related. Papa kept their money and when Hans needed some
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money, he had to go to Papa and Papa treated him like a child. He told Hans he was
spending too much money and things like that. So Hans asked Papa to divide the
money. It developed in to a big fight. Papa was screaming and Hans in a low voice said
things to Papa, which was like a knife going through all of us. I started crying and
begging for them to stop. Then Papa turned to me and said, if I would not shut up he
would hit me. My poor Papa, he had never lifted a hand against any of us children. And
then Hans responded: "You don't have a right to hit her any more, she is already my
wife." I started crying and did not know what happened afterwards. When I awoke Mutti
and Hans were standing over me trying to get me out of whatever it was that was
happening to me. I know I could not stop crying. Hans demanded from me to go with
him and I said that I will stay with my parents. He left by himself. I cried the whole night
through.
The next morning Papa divided the merchandise and the money, gave it to me and I
brought it to Hans. I begged Hans to apologize to Papa. He said he would not, that he
had done nothing wrong. I could not talk to Papa at all. The situation at home became
intolerable. Remember, I was not even seventeen years old. Living in the house with
my parents became intolerable. There was not a moment of peace. Hans arranged for
the two of us to fly to France as refugees. For the last time before we left I begged my
parents to let me get married with a Chuppah, to no avail. There was not going to be a
peaceful solution. I told Mutti that we were to leave May 12, 1938. Papa left the house
very early so as not to say farewell. That was the day we left Spain.
France May 12 1938 to August 21 1939
May 12, 1938 was a terrible day for me. We were taken together with other passengers
to the airport outside of Barcelona. We had to wait for hours for the airplane to take us
to Marseilles, I was crying constantly. Hans became angry with me, but I did not care. I
kept seeing my mother sitting in the kitchen crying and begging me not to leave. While
we were waiting the city was bombed. We finally boarded a two engine airplane at 8 pm
and took off. Hans held me and tried to comfort me. It was a very turbulent flight over
the Pyrenees. One air pocket after the other made me so sick I thought I would die for
sure. I vomited all the way. While we were still waiting at the airport in Barcelona, we
met a lady who was joining her husband in Marseilles. Since we could not take any
money with us, but had other valuables at hand we asked that lady how to get a hold of
some money in France. She said that her husband would know what to do since he had
been there for a while.
We arrived in Marseilles at midnight, with all the lights we saw while landing, the city
seemed to me the most beautiful place in the world. We were not used to lights any
more. Nights in Spain were dark, lit only by falling bombs and defense flack lights. This
was heaven. After all the formalities at the airport were taken care off, we met the lady's
husband and he loaned Hans two hundred Francs. We moved to the same hotel they
were in. After we freshened up in our room we went together with the other couple to a
restaurant to eat. All that food. I could not believe what I saw. The restaurant was full of
people at two in the morning! The leftover food on the plates, which the waiters took off
the tables, could feed lots of families in Barcelona. I could not believe my eyes. We
came from a land of hunger and poverty to the land of milk and honey. My heart
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cramped together. I thought of my parents, Betty and of all the people in Spain and I felt
so very sad. Hans ordered the best of everything; but it was very difficult for me to eat. I
remember Hans had ordered a chocolate drink for me and with it they brought a dish
full of separately packed lump-sugar. I grabbed all the sugar and put it in my purse,
thinking I was still in Spain where the sugar was rare as gold. After we ate we went out
on the streets filled with people. The change, from the place we came to the place we
were at now, was like day and night. My happiness would have been complete, if I
could have shared it with my beloved parents and sister Betty.
The next morning we went to the HICEEM, the local Jewish Committee for Refugees, to
see if we could get any help to get a visa for Argentina. The Committee did not have
any help for that, there were too many refugees that needed visas to get out of Europe.
"Visas to leave you have to get on your own." Said Mr. Max Katzenellenbogen as he
registered us as new refugees. We were sent to the "Hotel Paradise" with all other
refugees. We also could get soup and bread twice a day at the committee. Hans asked
for medical help for me and we went a few days later to see a doctor. Dr. Wertheimer
gave me a complete examination and he asked me my age. When I told him that in a
few days I would be 17 years old, he exclaimed that he had never seen a girl my age
with such, destroyed nerves. No wonder. He also said that I was 3 months pregnant.
The doctor gave me a letter to Mr. Max explaining my condition. Mr. Max in turn send
me from then on to a kosher restaurant run by a very nice orthodox family by the name
of Frant, where I alone would get two good meals a day. I also received medication for
my nervous condition.
At the hotel we occupied a small room. There was a double bed, a little table, two
chairs, a sink, a little wardrobe and a bidet. The bathroom and shower we had to share
with a lot of other people. The hotel was a little far from the center of town and from the
restaurant where I ate, but, what else did we have to do? We walked quite a bit. I wrote
letters to my parents and to Rosa, but did not receive any answers. I was desperate to
hear from them. On every street corner in Marseilles one could see the news on an
electric running strip and everywhere I went I could read how many bombs were falling
over Barcelona and in Spain. The uncertainty of what was happening to my loved ones
was killing me.
We became acquainted with some of our neighbors. They came from all parts of
Germany, Austria, Poland and other places. All had one thing in common: running away
from the Germans and being stuck in Marseilles with no way out. We sat together in the
evenings trying to find ways to get out. Nobody was allowed to work as a refugee; but
some of them did anyway. Some went from door to door peddling socks, handkerchiefs
and other things that would fit into a small suitcase. Hans said that he would not do
that. He may be arrested and send back to Germany. I washed in the little sink the
socks and the underwear of some bachelors and dried them on the radiator of the
heating system, darned and mended the holes in their socks, just to make a few
Francs. I also did some sewing for them by hand since I did not have a sewing
machine, I turned collars on their shirts. I bought a little iron to press and heated that on
our little petrol-cooker on which I made coffee for breakfast.
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We also walked a lot. I liked to go to the big department stores and just look around
and dream of better times. After a while, Hans became tired of walking around. He said
that if he can not afford to buy anything he did not care to look. So now I wound up
being very much alone. In the room I kept myself busy, but I had to walk by myself.
Hans went every day to the Cafe Française and for one cup of coffee he sat there for
hours playing cards. Sometimes, when I was too tired of walking, I also went in there
and watched the prostitutes approaching the men and going out with them. There were
many of them and they were very friendly to me. They always greeted me and started
to get into a conversation with me. They became especially friendly later on when my
pregnancy was showing. They brought me little gifts for the baby and always treated me
to a cup of chocolate. Not that they brought it to me, they send it with the waiter. Hans
got very angry with me because of that. He forbade me to come to the Cafe Française;
but I did not let him do that to me. His favorite words were: "You are a young tree and
you have to bend and do what I tell you to do. I am an old tree and can not bend any
more." Well, he came to the wrong address with me. I told him: "We got married the
same day to each other and if it comes to bending we both have to do it." We did not
get along at all and had a lot of fights. He tried, because I was so young to dominate
me and I would not let him. I was left very much alone and had too much time to think
about my life. I still had hopes that if and when the times would get better, that life with
Hans would also improve. Especially after the baby came. I wanted so badly to get
along with him.
The police was after us to get out of the country. We had gone to many consulates to
ask for visas. None of them considered giving us a visa. In front of every consulate we
had to stand for hours waiting for our turn to get in, just to be send out empty handed. A
lot of people managed to get to Paraguay, where they were still letting some people in.
We could have made it there; but we heard that a very bad children sickness, paralisis
infantil, (poliomyelitis) had broken out there. Although I did not know at the time what a
terrible sickness it was, I was afraid for my unborn child. I did not want to take any
chances. I continued writing to my parents without getting any response.
At the same time as all of this went on, thousands of Jews from Germany and Austria
emigrated to Palestine. There were great difficulties to get in, but somehow with
certificates from the British they got in. A lot of fighting broke out also in Palestine
between Arabs, Jews, and the British. It was a terrible situation, no country wanted us
Jews. From all the countries in the wide, wide world only Shanghai (under Japanese
occupation) let people in without having to get a visa. I had wondered about that,
because we saw a lot of refugees travelling through Marseilles with Shanghai as their
destination.
And then, it was about the beginning of July, when ‘Best Friend #1’ suddenly arrived in
Marseilles. She brought me the first news of my parents. She told me that my parents
were very unhappy about my leaving with Hans. Until the last moment they had hoped
that I would not leave with him. Any way, I was happy to hear that they were all well and
that they expected to receive the llamada from Argentina any day and that then they
would leave as soon as they could. The situation in Spain was becoming unbearable.
‘Best Friend #1’ had planed to go to Paris to be with Leo Weissman; but she decided to
stay in Marseilles because of me. She called Leo in Paris and told him to come. He
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came, and we had a fantastic time together, we really lived it up. Every night we went to
nightclubs and bars. Leo and ‘Best Friend #1’ loved to gamble and there were lots of
nightclubs with all sorts of gambling going on. We danced through the night. Came
home at 5 o'clock in the morning. It was really a fun time. And then ‘Best Friend #1’ had
to leave again. I gave her mail for my parents, but again I did not get an answer.
On July 14 I got the scare of my life. At that time I realized how much down my nerves
were. During the night there was shooting on the streets. I thought I was dreaming, but
then around morning it sounded like bombs were falling. I started trembling and crying.
The war had come to France. It was impossible for Hans to calm me down. I had a
nervous breakdown. The doctor had to come and give me a tranquilizing shot. Later we
found out that it was Bastille Day and France was celebrating.
Hans had made an acquaintance of two young men. I don't know how he met them; but
they were very nice and they invited us to come with them to an outing in the
mountains. I think it was also in July. We left at 5 am. It was a beautiful day, another
day I will not forget for as long as I live. I don't remember the town we went through, nor
do I remember the name of the mountain we climbed nor the bay on the bottom of it. I
only know that the view was breathtaking. I remember that on our way we passed a
large prison for women before we climbed the mountain. What an unforgettable day this
was. The two young men whose names I also forgot took pictures of us and the place
we were. I still have those pictures and I love them. It was not at all easy to get over the
mountain, one bad step and I would not be telling this or any other stories, but it was
really worth while. Arriving at the peak and looking down gave me an elation I had never
felt before. Looking down was a rocky slope and deep down was a bay. The water
looked like a mirror in which the mountain was pictured and made the depth even look
deeper. Far in the back one could see the open Mediterranean Sea. I thought that I was
dreaming, nothing could be that beautiful. Right now I can compare the effect it had on
me, like the time I went with Maurice to the Grand Canyon here in the U.S. It had about
the same effect on me then. We looked around for a nice spot to picnic. We had
brought a basket of food with us. Then we changed into our bathing suits and we
jumped into the water. The water was refreshing and felt like silk. All in all, this was the
one perfect day we really had in Marseilles – besides the fun days when ‘Best Friend
#1’ and Leo were there. About the young men, I felt that they were acting strange, but
could not pinpoint it. I thought, to tell the truth, I don't know what I thought at the time,
but thinking back now about their strange behavior I think they must have been
homosexuals. I never saw them before that day and I never saw them again. Hans
brought me the photos and I don't know from were he got them and it really does not
matter. The day was perfect, the company was excellent and I cherish the pictures and
the memories.
The news from Germany became more and more unbelievable. The atrocities
committed there on a daily basis were unthinkable. We heard the news from people
travelling through Marseilles, going to different countries in the world. People bought
visas at crooked consulates to get out of Germany. They took away the little money left
to them, which the Germans had not gotten a hold of. Parents send their children away
to England with children transports. Women went as maids to work in England, which
was the only condition to allow some Jewish women in to their country. The Germans
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picked up entire Jewish families from their homes, these families disappeared, never to
be seen again. The next day their Jewish homes were occupied by strangers, Aryan
Germans. There also was talk about an oncoming war. All these news, the lack of news
from my parents, and the continuous fighting with Hans, did not improve my nerves or
my health in general.
Hans was very demanding, to give you an example. His underwear had to be ironed,
with that lousy little iron on the petrol oven. It was not enough that I ironed his shirts. I
had to get out of bed at 6.30 in the morning to iron his shorts. I was so angry about this.
We had nothing to do that early; but he would not let me sleep any longer. If I had
resisted, we would be fighting from morning to night. As it was, it was bad enough as
we were fighting a lot. I did not have the strength for all this. I can not remember all that
happened. Time has passed and this was a long time ago. I only know that I was very
unhappy. I was yearning for my parents. All that fighting did not help my health at all. I
had a very nervous heart the doctor said. I had difficulties breathing, but I had to learn
to live with it. It was about the end of July when I received the first letter from my
parents, actually Betty wrote to me. She wrote that my parents had received the
llamada from Rosa with me included. My parents had spoken to the Argentine Consul
and he had said that there would be no problem for me to get my visa in Marseilles. I
should prepare myself to go with them. At the same time I received a letter from Rosa
urging me to do everything to come with my parents and Betty to Argentina. Now Hans
was in uproar. The first thing he said was that he would not let me go. Then he started
begging me and telling me how much he loved me and that he would change and I
would see that we would be very happy together. And how could I even think of having
our baby without him. My heart softened and I tried to believe him. I knew that in his
own way he really loved me. And maybe he would change and we would be happy?
Oh, I wanted to believe it so much. So, I gave in to him and after that he really behaved
much better and was less demanding. After talking to some people we decided that I
should go with my parents and Hans would try to get with us maybe on the same ship
to Paraguay he might get a visa to go there. Our plan was that Hans would go with us
on the same ship up to Montevideo, Uruguay. There he would have to leave the boat to
go to Paraguay, while we where to continue to Buenos Aires. Somehow he would be
able to make it to Argentina. It was a very good plan.
Now I was anxiously waiting for my parents and sister to arrive, I could not wait for them
to get out of that living hell. The Fascists had taken Madrid already and now they were
fighting for Barcelona and every minute I knew that they were still there made me
shiver. It was Sabbath, August 15, 1938, when my parents finally arrived. I was going to
Frant's restaurant. Hans did not come along as he had something wrong with his knee
and could not walk. A friend who also ate at Frant's was waiting for me downstairs and
told me very casually that my parents were upstairs. I don't remember how I got up the
stairs. Mr. Frant was at the door and held me back and said "Calm down, calm down
everything is fine. Your parents are in this room!" With that he opened a door to a
private room he had given to my parents for our reunion.
The first thing I saw was my beloved mother. Calling Mutti, Mutti, I fell to my knees, hid
my head in her lap and cried my head off. I could not stop crying. "Lottchen,
Lottchenko" I heard my dear mother saying over and over again. "Why are you crying?
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We are here now and we will not leave you here. You will come with us to Argentina?
Will you, say that you will come with us," she supplicated. When I said "yes," Mutti
cried: "Josef you hear our child is coming with us." Until then I had not seen my father. I
lifted my head from Mutti's lap and looked at my father. For the second time in my life I
saw my dear father cry. I said, Papa forgive me. He looked at me at my swollen waist
and said go. I don't know what happened then, I only know that I was in my father's
arms and our tears were mingling together. Like in a dream I heard a voice saying:
"Don't you want to greet me at all, Lottchen?" It was my sister Betty, then 10 year old.
When I hugged and kissed her she said to me: "You know, I thought at first when I saw
you that you are Rosa and when I asked why? She said because you are so fat."
While we were eating, not much this time, Mutti asked me how I feel and since Hans
was not with me, she thought that I would get a divorce from Hans. Mutti said I should
not worry about my child, that they, my parents would take care of it. It was then that I
told them about our plan. At first they did not like it. They still maintained that divorce
would be best. I was very careful not to tell them how much we were fighting and not
getting along at all. But I hoped it would get better once we would live a regular life and
not be refugees any more. So I told my parents that everything was going very well with
the two of us. After lunch Betty and I went to the hotel to get Hans. On the way Betty
told me all the news and gossip from Barcelona. While we were talking, Betty shifted
into Spanish, her Spanish was much better than her German, as it is now, more than 50
years later. Hans came with us to the café and made his peace with my parents. My
parents moved in a room adjacent to ours and, on Monday the 17th, we went to the
Argentinean consulate to get my visa.
In order not to show that I was pregnant, because I was travelling with a passport on my
maiden name, I put a corset on and tied myself together as much as I could. My
passport was valid until November 15, 1938. The Consul was very nice; but he said I
should have gotten my visa in Barcelona because the llamada was made out for us
living in Barcelona and he did not want to give it to me. After I begged and cried he said
he would make an exception and give it to me. Now he asked me for my certificate of
good conduct. I gave it to him. He looked it over and then looked at my parents
certificate and saw that my certificate was written in Catalan and my parent's was
written in Spanish. He just did not like it. He insisted that my certificate should also be
written in Spanish. He refused to give me the visa. There was no way to convince him
to give it to me. He said he would give it to me, if I bring the certificate written in
Spanish. There was no way that I could get a new certificate in time, as the boat my
parents were travelling with was leaving the 20th, only 3 days later. Papa said he would
postpone the trip for one month in order for me to get another certificate. The Consul
advised against it. He said if they don't go now, they might not be able to go at all, as a
new law in Argentina had come out stopping immigration. That new law would be
enforced on the 1st of September. That was the end of our plan, for the time being. My
parents had to leave without me.
August 20, 1938, was a gloomy, foggy day. We went by taxi to the harbor. The ship,
named "Mendoza," was very nice. Because of a big storm on the waters it was late in
departing. It was supposed to leave at 12 noon, but left at 5pm. Lots of people were
traveling with it. All passengers had to see a doctor to have their eyes examined. Thank
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G"d all went well. We were allowed to come on board and had lunch with my parents
and Betty. The food was excellent. Then we took a tour to see the ship. On deck there
were some Argentinean musicians with their guitars playing and singing. Oh, how much
I dreaded not to be able to go with them. We had a good time on board until we had to
say our farewell. Shortly before the boat left an officer of the boat came to us and asked
us if a box on the quay belonged to my parents. Sure enough it was. Mutti's
candlesticks and all the sefarim (Hebrew books) plus other things were in that box. We
were really lucky that in all the hours we were on board the box did not disappear.
Even though my parents promised to do anything they could to bring us over as fast as
possible, I was full of doubts whether I would be able to ever see my family again.
Ahead of us lay a very difficult time. Europe was in turmoil. The fear of a war was a real
one with that mad man in power in Germany. When would it end? Parting is very hard.
My heart felt like ice. I had the feeling that it would break into a thousand pieces – I was
hurting so much. Hans was very kind to me and tried everything to bring me back to
reality. I was crying for days without end. I could neither eat nor sleep.
We received mail from Argentina. Rosa wrote telling me that their happiness of having
our parents there was great, but would have been much greater had we arrived with
them. As soon as my parents would be settled and had their cedulas, resident I.D.
cards, they would start working on a llamada, affidavit, for us. They tried, the consul in
Marseilles was right, immigration laws had changed. During mid October Papa wrote us
that they were informed at the immigration department, that they had to be residents for
2 years before they can apply to make a llamada. So it looked like we had to prepare
for a long wait.
We tried other South American consulates without success. We even went to the
Spanish consulate. In the mean time Franco had taken over all of Spain and the war
was finally over. We went to the Spanish consul to ask whether he could advise how to
get out of Europe. He was very nice to us, but could not help us to get out of Europe,
but offered to send us back to Spain. I wanted to get out of that continent, to go overseas. And so we stayed on while the police came every week asking us as when we
would leave.
If I remember it right it was Kol Nidre, the evening before Yom Kippur, the holiest day in
the Jewish calendar, in 1938, when in Germany all the Polish Jews were gathered and
send to the Polish border. We heard it over the radio and read it on the street corners
on the news-band going to the Schul (Synagogue). This is now 53 years ago and I
remember it as if it was yesterday. We, the women in the women's section of the Schul,
were huddled together and crying for our brothers and sisters on the no-mans-land
between Germany and Poland. We had no means to help them. It was a Yom Kippur, I
won't forget for as long as I live. The news we heard during the day our holiest day, of
the beatings and shootings of my people, without food and with little children between
them. Why, why dear G"d, do you let this happen to your chosen people? That was
what we cried during that fateful Yom Kippur. A week later a young man by the name of
Greenspan, I think he was 18 year old, waited in front of the German Embassy in Paris
and shot to death an attaché of the German Embassy. Greenspan was a refugee from
Germany who heard that his parents were also send to the Polish border. In his
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desperate rage, he killed the attaché. The Germans used that as a big propaganda
against the Jewish murderers as if Germany needed a reason to kill Jews. On
November the 8 or the 9th was the infamous Kristall Nacht (Crystal Night) when the
windows of shops belonging to Jews were shattered and all Synagogues were smashed
and burned to the ground in Germany. The Germans pulled out the holy Torahs, the
scroll of the five books of Moses, and prayer books and burned them in front of the
synagogues. In some places they filled the synagogues with Jews, men, women and
children and burned the synagogues with the people inside. None of the German
neighbors, even those who had before this incident called themselves "friends" lifted a
finger nor let escape a peep to help them. Now I can understand that they were afraid
for their own lives; because one can never tell what a mob in that proportion would have
done to any protesters. But how could it have come to this? How did decent people, I
suppose there must have been some, let it go that far? This painting evolved and
developed on the walls for five long years! All this happened about one week before I
was supposed to give birth. I guess I don't have to tell you my state of mind.
While all this happened we were still living in the same hotel. When my parents left, we
got new neighbors, Erna and Moshe Stein. I met them in the Cafe Française. Hans was
playing cards and I was watching the prostitutes going after their business. In came Mr.
and Mrs. Stein. They sat down at our table and we got into a conversation. They were a
very nice couple. Soon she told me their story. They too ran away from Germany, they
ran to Italy. Now Italy expelled them from there and they came to France to wait for their
affidavit to come to the United States. They moved into our hotel into the same room
my parents had occupied before. She was 37 years old at the time. We became very
good friends. I really liked her very much and now I was not so much alone any more.
She was like a mother to me. So one day I dared to ask her where the baby would
come out from. Silly, she said to me, it comes out from the same place it got in. Her
husband and Hans also became good friends. I told her my whole story and we both
cried together over my stupidity and my pain.
Dr. Wertheimer, the same doctor I had seen right at the beginning, had sent me to the
maternity hospital where I was supposed to give birth to my baby. The doctor at the
maternity had checked me out and told me to come to the maternity hospital on
November 17th. He said that, that was the day I was going to give birth. I could not
believe that he could predict that so accurately and I laughed a long time. He saw me
when I was in the fifth month.
It was November the 16th. I could not get up in the morning because I got such terrible
cramps in my legs, that I was screaming for pain. Every time I tried to step on my feet,
the same thing happened. So there I was lying on my bed and could not move. Hans
called Dr. Wertheimer. He finally showed up at about 5pm and examined me. He said
that I was starting to give birth and that I should go to the hospital right away. While he
was examining me the cramps went away. So I got up and we, Hans, Erna, and I
started on our way to the hospital. Hans wanted to call a cab; but I wanted to walk after
lying in bed the whole day.
We started out at about 8 pm it was dark and cold, but while we were walking we got
warm. We had a long way to walk as the maternity was on the other end of town, on
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Rue Victor Hugo. I felt good; but very heavy. It was about 9:30 when we arrived at the
Plaza of Arch de Triumphe, which was half way to where we were going. There was a
tavern on the road and I was thirsty for a beer, I have never been a beer drinker.
Everybody in there looked at me and laughed, no wonder, I looked like a barrel of beer
myself. I did not care. We went on and we got lost. It was 10:30 at night and not a soul
on the streets. A drunk man came our way and we tried to ask him, in our broken
French, where the hospital was. He did not understand us. While we still trying to talk to
the drunk, in front of a house were we stood, light went on in the first floor. Out to the
balcony came a couple in their nightgowns and tried to explain to us were the maternity
was. Of course we did not understand them. To make along story short, this couple got
dressed and came down to us and took us to the maternity. They had been lying in bed
already but heard what we were asking for and they came to our help. Real nice
people. Imagine it was 11pm, to get dressed and go out of the house in order to take
strangers and show them where to go! It was a half-hour walk. At 11:30pm we finally
arrived at the maternity hospital.
We were told that this maternity hospital was the second largest of France. Never
before had I been in a maternity, and I really did not know what to expect there. After
they told Hans and Erna to go home I was taken to a room where I had to undress and
put on a hospital gown. I heard screaming of women in pain and I asked the nurse in
my bad French if everybody cries that way and if I would also scream. She laughed and
gave me to understand that is was entirely up to me. There were 2 labor wards in the
third floor were she took me to, one was filled up and the one she took me to was
empty. I was the first one in there. After entering in a file all my personal data, I was
prepared to be examined by two midwives. They told me that I would be giving birth
before the morning – I forgot to tell you that shortly before we arrived at the maternity I
had started labor pains and the pain intensified as time went on. More women came
into the ward, all going through the same procedure as I. One woman came in and they
did not have time to prepare her. She gave birthright there in a few minutes, in front of
my eyes. During the night the ward filled up, I don't know if there were 10 or 12 beds in
the ward, I only know that by daybreak they were all out of there with their babies born,
but me. I was screaming as my pain got worse. By now, the pain was coming every 3
minutes. Hans had come in the morning to find out the situation. They would not let him
come in. They told him over the phone from the ward to go home and call in the
afternoon. Then during the morning the director, 3 doctors, and about 20 midwives and
nurses came on their round and stopped at my bed. Again I was examined and was
told that in maybe one hour I would have my baby. Over two hours passed, I was still in
terrible pain and nothing happened. I think it was about 12:30, when the doctors and
the director came back to check on me. Orders were given to prepare me for a delivery
with forceps. I was happy for that. Finally I would be freed from all that pain. There the
doctors came sterilized to perform, they looked, debated and examined me again. Then
they gave me to understand that they could not do it, as the baby had gone back and
they could not see his head any more. Mike my child, you knew what a rotten world it
was and you had decided it was safer inside, so you did not want to come out. Who
could blame you? That was the end of delivery with forceps for me.
I was desperate. A nurse who spoke Spanish talked to me, trying to calm me down.
She told me to be patient, it would just take a few hours more. It was about 5pm, the
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reason that I know the time of everything is that, there was a big clock on the wall of the
delivery room, no nurse was in the room, my pain was so terrible that I did not know
what I was doing any more. I wanted to make an end of every pain I had, so I got out of
the bed, went to the window, climbed up the window and opened it wide. If it would not
have been for the other women in labor who recognized my intention, I would not be
writing my memories now. The women started ringing their bells and the nurses came
running and grabbed me as I was jumping. From that moment on there was always a
nurse by my side, holding my hand and comforting me. They were all frightened by my
action. At about 11:30pm my son was born. Exactly 24 hours after I was admitted.
November 17, 1938, my son Michel Marcel was born. He was pretty heavy, 3 3/4 kg
was his weight – a gorgeous little boy. My pain was gone, but when I wanted to sit up to
see what they did with my little screamer, I started to tremble from weakness. When he
was dressed they brought him to me to look him over. What a boy, I could hardly
believe that he was mine. Then they asked me what name I would give my baby. We
had decided for a boy to be called Marcelo or Miguel. So I said Miguel. No they said,
Miguel is not a French name. So I said Marcel, fine they said and wrote it down. And
the second name? They asked, I said, I only give him one name. No, they said, you
have to give him two names, that is the law. So my son, that is why your name is Michel
Marcel. Both names are French. When they wanted to take him away from me, I
handed the nurse an armband I had made, special for this occasion. I did not want my
child to be exchanged for another. The nurse laughed and showed me the babies right
hand. On it was a plastic armband with my name and personal information written on it,
and I thought I was so smart.
Hans came the next morning and I was rolled out on a stretcher and the baby was
brought to us. At first Hans did not dare to touch the baby, he seemed so helpless, but
he fell in love with him and was a very proud father. I produced a lot of good milk, I had
too much of it, a very good cow. Even though Mike was a good eater, he did not empty
my breasts and they became very hard, blue, and very painful, after a few days. I also
did not have any nipples and my baby bit them of. My left nipple was hanging on a fine
string and I cried when I had to feed him. The baby was about four days old when I told
the director that I would not feed my baby any more. She checked my breast and got
angry with the nurses. First of all she called out to bring a tireuse, a milk pump, but it is
an electric machine to extract the milk from the breast. The first thing that came out of
my breasts was blood mixed with milk. To make a long story short, from that time on
after my baby was fed, the machine was put on me and two little bottles of milk were
extracted from me and a pair of twins whose mother did not have any milk, were fed
with it. To me the Director brought a little glass tube in the form of the breast about two
inches wide with a little nipple. What a pleasure it was to feed the baby now. At least
now my nipples had time to heal. Mike bit me a few times but, in the end, my nipples
got stronger.
Now it was time to prepare for the Brith Mila (ritual circumcision). It was a dilemma. We
lived in a hotel room, the Brith Mila has to be done one week after the birth of the boy,
at that time, after giving birth, the mother had to stay in the hospital for at least 10 days.
Somehow we arranged to have the Brith Mila in the hospital. It was the first time a Brith
was done at the hospital. I think it was Monsieur Frant junior who explained the
procedure to the director and to the doctors. It was very funny. All the nurses, midwives,
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and doctors, everyone that could get away from their work was present. One of the
doctors was completely sterilized, he said, just in case the Mohel (the professional
doing the circumcision) did not do the right thing, he wanted to be prepared. Thank G"d,
all went well. They all drank some schnapps and ate cookies when it was over. Moshe
and Erna Stein were the godparents.
Now the Mohel gave instructions to the head nurse on how to take care of my baby.
She assured the Mohel that they would take care of it. The problem arose when the
head nurse had to leave and would not come in the following day. She gave the
instructions to the nurses. They in turn came to me, when it was time to change my
baby. They said they were afraid to take care of him, because they may hurt him. Well I
told them to show me what to do and I would do it myself. I did not want to complain to
the doctor who came every hour to see how the baby was doing, because the nurses
were such lovely girls and really very helpful to me. From then on I took care of my baby
and I loved every minute of it.
In order to take care of my baby, I had to go into the diapering room. That was quite a
room. There were about 10 diaper tables with one shelf underneath, lined up in the
middle of the room. One side of the room was a large sink with faucets above. There
were faucets with hot, cold and luke warm water. One side of the room was filled with
diapers and towels on shelves. Next to the diaper room were the children's rooms –
what a sight, each in their little cradle. Now the nurses took the children out and it is
something to remember. Each nurse had two children on each arm, two children were
put in the lower shelf of the table and two on the top. The diapers were taken off and
with two babies, one under each arm, with their behinds in front and their little heads on
the back. Then the nurses took them to the luke warm water faucets and washed their
little behinds and legs. Multiply this by 10 nurses with their babies and you get the
picture. It was a sight!
When the Mohel came the next day to check on the baby, he said that I was doing a
good job and that everything was all right. I learned more French in these few days in
the maternity than in all the months we stayed in France. Now that I was taking care of
my own baby I also helped the nurses to take care of other babies. I became one of
them and I truly liked what I was doing. Then came the 27th of November, that was the
day I was released and Hans was supposed to pick us up.
I had said all my farewells, the baby and I were dressed and we were waiting for Hans
to come. Outside it was raining heavily, so I thought, he was probably waiting for the
rain to stop. Hours had passed and no sight of Hans. It was already 3pm and I knew
then that something had happened. Then unexpectedly came Mr. Frant junior from the
restaurant I was eating in. He told me not to worry, but Hans could not come to pick us
up. There were razzias, police raids, in all the hotels where the police expected they
housed refugees, and every person not having their papers in order with visas to stay in
the country, were arrested.
I was devastated. I told Mr. Frant that he should take me to the hotel and that I will try to
do every thing possible to get him out of there. Just a few days before, Hans had told
me about some friends, who we thought they had left the country, had come back and
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told Hans, that they had been arrested and incarcerated by the French police. They
were treated like hardened criminals, and after they had them locked up for 4 weeks
they took them to the Swiss border. The Swiss in turn took them back to the French
border and they came back to Marseilles. They said that the conditions in those cells
were absolutely inhumane. I had asked Hans at the time, not to go to the cafés
because the police always picked people up from there. Now they picked them up early
in the morning when they were still asleep and arrested them all. Mr. Frant was against
my going to the hotel, he meant that I could not do any thing for him and that I had to
take care of the baby. He also said that he had spoken to Mr. Max Katzenellenbogen
and that he was already working on it. I was crying and Mr. Frant could not calm me
down. So he asked to talk to the director. He explained the situation to her. She felt so
sorry for me, took me around and said to Mr. Frant "Of course she is going to stay here
with us, until her husband comes to pick her up." Mr. Frant was very happy about that
and he assured me that he would go directly to Mr. Max and see what was done and let
me know as soon as he knew. My bed was already occupied and they put me in
another bed. I was determined to go to the hotel. I took my baby, put on my coat and
tried to leave. I was stopped and they called the director and she was angry with me.
They took my clothing away from me and put my baby back in the nursery. I could not
stop crying and then I got a temperature. They gave me some tranquilizer. Even my
poor baby suffered, because my milk was not good with all my worrying. He cried the
whole night. The director was angry at me, she said I should think of my baby first. How
does one stop thinking of all the tzores hitting one? I begged her to let me go home. But
she said: "You will stay here until your husband comes to pick you up." Then I asked
her to allow me to talk to Mr. Max. She decided to call him herself. After she spoke to
him she allowed me to do the same. Mr. Max was very hopeful that he would get all of
them out, if not all of them, for sure Hans would get out, as he was the father of a
French boy. He told me that I had nothing to worry about. After that talk, I felt a lot
better and started to help the nurses.
Nobody can even faintly imagine, how nice, helpful, and good all the nurses, patients
and the director were to me. Never before had I experienced such warm friendship from
total strangers. I am very thankful to all of them. The next day I was called in the
afternoon to the telephone. It was Hans, he was free and so were all the others from
our hotel. He asked me to stay until the next morning. He needed a bath and sleep. He
had not slept the whole time he was in prison. Every one was happy with me, only the
nurses had hoped that I could have stayed longer. They were really very fond of me.
When Hans finally came the next morning to pick us up, all the nurses accompanied us
out to the taxi. They hugged and kissed me as if I were family, and that was the way I
felt too. When we got to the hotel, the proprietor gave me a baby basket for the baby to
sleep in. Then Hans started telling me of his adventures in the French prison.
It was 5:30 in the morning on the 27th of November, the day he was supposed to pick
us up from the maternity, he was still in bed when the maid knocked on the door and
called: "The police is downstairs, every body has to come down immediately." Hans,
who thought that they may take them along, was smart enough to put on warm
underwear and took his heavy winter coat. Downstairs were all the habitants gathered
together. They were all refugees from Germany plus one Swedish couple. Since none
of them had a legal right to be in France they were arrested. Outside, in front of the
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hotel, was a green police paddy wagon, like a truck, and all of them were squeezed into
it, even the two women, Erna and the Swedish lady. The police took them to the police
station, took mug shots of each one, fingerprinted them, like real hardened criminals.
When they were ready with all of them, they took them down in the cellar and locked
them in. All of them, women and men together in one dark windowless cell. There was
one bucket serving as a toilet for all of them, imagine the smell. They were hungry, but
they did not bring food or drink. Herr Fraenkel Jr. and his father were also there and
good friends of ours from the beginning. Fraenkel Jr. called the guard, since he spoke a
very good French and asked for food. The guard was very nice, but told them that there
was no food for them. If they wanted to buy some it would be all right. He even allowed
Fraenkel to come with him to do the shopping. That was how they got something to eat.
On the same evening the Swedish couple were freed. The Swedish Consulate had
interfered for them. Who was there to interfere for us – the Jewish refugees? Only our
own people, because no one else cared. Herr Fraenkel Sr. had playing cards with him,
so they played cards on the stone floor, and on their knees. There were no tables. The
next day in the afternoon they were finally released. Mr. Max Katzenellenbogen came
personally to pick them up. Later we found out that the Minister President Daladier was
in Marseilles and that everybody was arrested to prevent a possible attack on him. We
were already in bed in the dark and we were still talking, when the baby started crying.
When I turned the light on to look at him and I saw the crib and my baby covered with
bed bugs. Quickly I took my baby out of that crib and put the crib in the hallway,
changed my poor baby completely. He had bites over his whole body. After that we took
him into our bed. That also was a sleepless night, as we were afraid to move – because
we could hurt the baby. The next day we moved to the Hotel De La Marne, on the
Course Belsunse 22. It was in the center of the city and I had only a 4 minutes walk to
the restaurant.
Life continued in the same manner as before. Erna Stein spent a lot of time with me
and that was good. She really was a good friend. I had decided that I wanted to get
married according to the Jewish religion, not for my sake; but for the sake of my baby
and also for my parents. So on December 22, 1938, we were married in the big
synagogue of Marseilles. Erna and Moshe Stein and another couple were the
witnesses. It was different from my dreams. After the ceremony Hans went to the Cafe
Française and Erna and I to our room, where I was ironing and crying my heart out.
The news coming from Germany became worse. From Argentina there were no news,
only that my parents tried to get the llamada sooner, without success. Two years they
said, you have to wait. I tried to get into another South American country and went with
my baby in my arms to all of them. The lines at the consulates and embassies were
growing larger and larger. I even went to the Paraguayan consulate. They too had
stopped immigration by now. Mr. Max told me not to rush things. He thought that the
baby was too small to travel. He even thought we should wait for the papers from
Argentina.
Bubi, that is what we called our baby, was growing fine. Every week I went to the a
mother/parent organization, were they checked children's weights and how they were
growing. Every body was amazed about how well I was doing with my baby. I was the
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youngest mother there and they came to me to show them how to wrap their babies. No
big wonder, as I had the best schooling of them all, the maternity hospital.
When Mike, I will call him Mike from now on – it sounds better than Bubi, and besides
that is what we call him now – was three months old, he started to cough, and started to
have a high temperature. I called the doctor and he said that my baby had bronchitis.
The following day it turned out to be pneumonia. He had high temperature and did not
eat anything and the coughing took all the strength out of him. We were desperate. I
tried in vain to get some drops of milk into him. The third day the doctor sent us to the
hospital by the name Conception. I was told that this hospital was the newest, the
largest, and the most modern in France. My baby was placed in a nursery with I don't
know how many cribs, at least 24 or more all filled with sick little babies. Each crib was
separated by a glass or maybe it was plastic, wall. The hospital was filled up with
patients and there was not a room free for me and the baby for ourselves yet. The
nurses were very busy, especially the nurse assigned to the part of the room where my
Mike was. I went to her and told her that Mike had not eaten anything in three days, so
she told me "What do you want me to do, put him on my breast and see if he will eat?"
And with that she left me standing there, she was not very nice to me. I tried to squeeze
some of my milk out and spoon it into the baby's mouth; but he pushed it all out. In the
mean time I started to get a fever as my breast was getting harder and harder, they
were hard like stones and hot as fire and there was no one I could talk to or show them
to. Night came and with it the night nurse. I was happy to see that she took care of my
baby. She gave the baby a shot and said doctor's orders. I waited for her to be less
busy and it was already midnight when I opened my blouse and showed her my
breasts. "Mon dieu, mon dieu" she cried out and asked me why I had not shown them
to anybody before. She called the other nurse in charge of the other side of the nursery
and told her that she had to go with me to the maternity ward of the hospital, to get
somebody to take care of me. The maternity ward was on the other end of the hospital.
The doctor in charge was awakened and he too was very upset that I was not taken
care of sooner. Then again the tireuse was set on me and milked me dry. What a relief.
The doctor told me to come from now on every four hours to be milked. My milk fed
several sick children. The next day I received a room for myself and my baby and
something else happened. Every morning from then on the cook came to our room and
asked me, what I would like to eat. You see, as I said before, I was a good cow and my
milk was precious to those little babies, including mine. Mike was a very sick little baby.
I think he got 4 to 5 injections a day; shot into his little tushy. We lived constantly in fear,
scared of loosing our darling baby. Very slowly Mike got better. After about 5 days in
the hospital, the doctor told us that he would make it, he was on his way up again. A
few days later he started drinking from my breast again. Two weeks we spent in the
hospital and now that I knew that Mike was getting better, when Mike was asleep I
helped there too with the babies. I looked around in the nursery and the larger
children's room. My G"d, what I saw there made me shiver. Babies suffering from the
sins of their parents. Little faces eaten up from syphilis, that is what the nurses told me
when I asked them. And there were others also with all sorts of sicknesses they got
from their parents negligence. 3 babies I fed with my milk from the bottle and the doctor
told me that my milk was the best medicine for them. There was in the other room one
5-year-old child with an enormous hunchback. She was at the time already a year in the
hospital and had to sleep in a form. Twice a day she was allowed to get up for one hour
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and move around a little. At this time she came to me and I told her German fairy tales.
She loved them. Once a month she received the visit of her mother. Her parents lived
far away in the province. When I left after two weeks with my, thank G"d, healthy baby,
that little girl cried bitterly and clang to me and did not want to let me go. I felt so sorry
for that little girl. Who knows what became of her.
There was one episode that amused me. I was lying in bed, at night feeding my baby.
The floor of the room had red tiles as had the whole hospital. Suddenly while I was
feeding and looking straight ahead of me, I saw a little mouse in the middle of the room
sitting on her hind legs, licking her front paws and washing her little face like a cat.
What a sight. I did not dare to move lest she would disappear, which she did any way
after a little while. When I close my eyes I can still see her. So much for my
amusement.
While I was still with Mike in the hospital, Moshe Stein was interned in the same
hospital. He had became suddenly sick. They first said he was sick on his lungs; but
then he had a blood clot somewhere. While we still were at the hospital, I went to see
him daily but two days after we were home he died of an embolism. It was terrible, Erna
was besides herself. She moved into our hotel and sat Shiva (Jewish mourning ritual) in
our room. Now she was all alone in Marseilles; but for us, her only friends. Luckily after
a few months she received an affidavit from a cousin in America and left us. With her
gone I lost my best friend.
Mike was 5 months old when he became ill with whooping cough, my poor baby. The
cough was such a strain on his little body, that on top of it he got an inflammation of the
testicles. Again he had to get injections. We both loved that little guy so much and
suffered with him. Hans could not even stay in the room when Mike was given injections
by the doctor. He always left the room so as not to see what was done to our darling
little boy.
More and more refugees came through Marseilles, all of them telling stories of
persecution. One story worse then the other. They were talking of concentration camps.
Jews were notified to report to a certain place. Then they were packed in cattle cars
and transported in masses to work camps – that is what they called them. Whole
families, whole communities disappeared that way, to never be heard of again. There
were a lot people coming through our hotel going to Shanghai, China. I had asked
some of them how come that they are going there? They all replied that Shanghai is the
only place where you don't need a visa. I had spoken to Hans about that, maybe we
should go there as well. But Hans refused to go there, he said that only gangsters
would go to Shanghai.
Even though the police was after us to get out of their precious country and now they
came every week to annoy us, Mr. Max told us that they could not possible do any thing
to us because of Mike. He said that they could not send us to the border and push us
over the border to another country, not with a Frenchman in our midst. So we decided
to remain in Marseilles for the time being and wait for our llamada from Argentina. We
went out to look for an apartment to rent and we found one. We would get some help
from the committee to pay for it. I also bought a sewing machine, an old one of course.
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In the hotel I could not use a machine. That was actually the reason to get an
apartment. We made a down payment on the apartment, so they would keep it for us
and when we came from the apartment we saw the news on the running band. Every
body, a big crowd was standing there discussing the bad news. It was written there and
repeated over and over again. ALL MEN BETWEEN 17 AND 65 YEARS OF AGE
HAVE TO REGISTER TO BE MOBILIZED BY THE MILITARY AUTHORITIES or
something like that. There is going to be a war they all were shouting. Suddenly all my
strength left me, I felt my heart sinking into my legs, I was frightened. I knew right then
and there that I would not stay there any longer. I would not go through another war. I
told Hans that we have to get out of there and he only laughed and said that nothing
would happen to us and the Germans would never be able to cross the Maginot line.
The next morning I went to the committee and spoke to Mr. Max. I made it clear that I
would not wait for another war and for the Germans to pick us up and send us to any
concentration camp. I told him to get us places on a ship that would take us to
Shanghai. Months before we had already taken out our French stateless passports,
they were just two pieces of paper with our pictures on it. They were made out for a trip
to Argentina and needed only an addition and to Shanghai and we were ready to go.
When I got home I told Hans about my decision. He was furious, he said he would not
go and he would not let me take my baby. I told him he could stay if he wanted to. My
baby and I would leave as soon as we could and that my mind was made up. He could
not believe that I was afraid of the Germans, he claimed that they would never be able
to cross the Maginot line. And I said that I would not take any chances on it. I went on
my own to the police to have the addition made on our passports. Two weeks later Mr.
Max called me to tell me that there was a ship going to Shanghai, the "Aramis," and, if
we wanted to, we can get tickets to go. I said we will go and he sent me to the travel
agency to get the tickets. We were travel ready. The ship was leaving in the 20th of
August 1939; but Hans was fighting it until the last day. He refused to believe that I
would really leave with my baby. I had done everything by myself I even packed on my
own. Finally he realized that I was determined to go and then he helped packing the
sewing machine. We left on August 20, 1939, on the Aramis and little did we know, that
it was its last journey. On the way back from Shanghai, she was torpedoed and sunk by
the Germans.
SHANGHAI CHINA. PART 1.
Now we were on our way to Shanghai. The Aramis was a beautiful ship, 24,000 tons.
The food was excellent and we were offered a lot of diversion on the boat. We were
given a small cabin with two bunk beds; but it was impossible to sleep in there because
it was too hot. A week later they gave us another cabin with 4 beds for us alone and
there it was possible to sleep some nights. There were 42 emigrants from Germany
with us on board and we heard a lot of gruesome horror stories concerning Hitler's
Germany. It seemed to me that the Nazis were inventing every day new tortures, new
terror and cruelties for our people – an endless terror. I could not figure it out. Where
were all the nice Germans I had known as a child, how could they have changed their
whole life style in only 6 years and not do anything about it? Did they not see, what was
going on in front of their eyes? These were all questions I did ask myself, over and over
again. The whole thing did just not make any sense to me. Everybody tried to forget the
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immediate past and live the present and that we did; because the future. What did we
know about what the future had in store for us! Our future was uncertain!
As I said before, we tried to forget. We were all travelling in third class; but we were
invited almost every night to first class to dance, horse racing, gambling, and other
diversions. Of course I could not participate in most of them because I was watching my
baby, but it was a lot of fun. I went a few times to dance, when one of the other
passengers was watching Mike. There was a couple with a little girl and we baby sat for
each other. The first port we anchored on was Port Said. Hans and some of the other
passengers went down to see the town, I did not want to go as I thought it was going to
be too difficult to go with the baby carriage, besides it was very, very hot. From the
Jewish community some delegates came on board to ask us, if they could do
something for us. They brought us fruits and sweets. And I remember that they also
brought us tropical helmets. I guess they knew that we may be needing them. They felt
so bad that we had to travel so far away because of persecution. I must say, that it felt
good to know that there were people caring for us. We stayed in Port Said two days
and one night and then we continued through the Suez Canal into the Red Sea.
It was a very calm night as we traveled slowly thorough the Suez Canal. The boat was
actually pulled all the way by a small pilot boat? ( I think that was what they called it) all
the way until we reached the Red Sea. On the right side were train-trucks and at one
time during the night we saw a long train going through. On the other side we could see
Bedouins with their camels and tents. As it was nighttime when we were going through
the canal, we saw every thing by moonlight and all looked very romantic. The only thing
not romantic were the mosquitoes, they were eating us up. One of the ladies that came
to visit us on the boat from the Jewish community had given me a net to put over the
babies crib. I can not tell you, how happy I was to have it, I don't know what I would
have done without it.
The second stop was Aden. It was only a very short stop so no body left the ship. Then
we went through the Gulf of Aden to the Indian Ocean and there the sea became very
wild and rough. We all became seasick. At that time the Captain ordered an excursion
through the ship for us. The Maitre De took us first to the kitchen – and what a kitchen
that was. Every thing was in white, the counter tops in stainless steel, the pots and pans
where shining like mirrors and everything was spotlessly clean. The ovens and the
stoves, and all the food the cooks were preparing it was like a dream. I could not
understand how they could have in the middle of the ocean fresh vegetables and meat.
From there we went to the pantry, it was freezing in there, then I found out, how they
had all that fresh food. On the walls and on the shelves there was snow and ice and
fruits and everything your heart and stomach could ask for. Then we went further. We
saw elegant dining and ball rooms and the first class cabins, I had never seen such
luxury in my life. Then we went to the first class swimming pool. The pool was so
inviting, that since I had a bathing suit on under my dress I quickly slipped out of my
dress and jumped into the pool. What a pleasure it was to swim again. For one day our
seasickness was forgotten. Nevertheless, we were not spared of seasickness, the
water and the waves were wild and high and on deck one could see almost all of the
people being sick.
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There also were a few incidents between the passengers where some of the wives
cheated on their husbands and vice-verse. These were all new things to me; but later I
learned that these things happened on all the ships. It seems to me that when people
leave home and their customary surroundings, they just let them selves go, all virtues
and morals disappear and fall into the water or wherever. Our third stop was in
Colombo, we stayed there for two days. One day we went down to see the city and
took, of course, Mike with the baby carriage with us. The tropic hats came to good use.
The Aramis also received more passengers in Colombo, a lot of Hindus boarded to go
to Singapore and Hong Kong. Most of them went first class. They came to us to trade
for postal stamps. They were ardent stamp collectors. I don't remember what they
traded them for, if they paid us with money or with tropical food. It slipped my mind
completely. But I know one thing: they were very friendly people. Then we stopped in
Singapore. Again we went out to see the town and we almost missed the boat. We had
gone with another couple and walked the streets. There were so many different things
we had never seen before. Before we realized it, it had become late so we had to take
a taxi to get back to the ship. The taxi took us to a different pier. Finally somebody gave
the driver the right directions and when we got to the ship, They had to open on the
bottom a cargo door and put out a plank so we could get on board. Five minutes later
we would not have been able to board any more, because the ship would have sailed
away. So we had our excitement in Singapore. From there we traveled through the
south sea. I don't remember where it was we heard about the Germans invading
Poland – we were still on the ship. War was now unavoidable. I also remember that
when we arrived in Shanghai the war had already started. At that time Hans was happy
that we had left France. Then we arrived in Saigon and we walked around there. I loved
the bazaars, the only problem was, we had no money to spend. But I loved the scenery,
the rickshaws and the pedicabs, I did not like to see the coolies carrying heavy loads on
their backs; but I got to see more of that later on in Shanghai.
Our next stop was Hong Kong. We also went down to the shore to see the town. It was
all so very interesting. First when we arrived in the bay, the bay was so crowded with
little junks (poor little boats) there was hardly room to anchor the ship. Then when we
disembarked, there were little alleys to go through. Children running around in rags,
dirty, smelling badly, and begging for pennies. That was not all they were doing, they
were trying to sell their young sisters as prostitutes. Trying to take the men with them, it
did not matter if they were going with their wives and children, they tried to drag them
into their dirty house entrances. I had never seen anything like it. It was very hot there
and when we got into the center of the city we went into a hotel restaurant to get
something cold to drink. While we were sitting in the restaurant some people came over
to greet us. They were Jewish citizens living in Hong Kong. They also tried to help us,
asked us, what they could do for us. We really did not know in what way they could help
us. We had no idea what to expect in Shanghai. Had we known, there would have been
nothing they could have done for us. Finally we landed in Shanghai.
September 20, 1939, it was late in the evening when we arrived. It was a muggy, humid
night. Our people came for us with caddie trucks. There was no place to sit down. We
were pushed together like sardines. Hans and I had the baby carriage between us, that
way we could protect our little baby. Finally we were rolled away from the pier. First we
drove down the Bund, the major boulevard on the waterfront, toward the Garden
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Bridge, which crossed the Yang Tze River to the Honkew district. In the middle of the
bridge we came to a halt and underwent a Japanese inspection, and that was scary.
The Japanese occupation of northern China included the Honkew district but excluded
until Pearl Harbor Day, the "International Settlement" and "French Town" of Shanghai.
The Japanese soldiers with their rifles and fixed bayonets on top them, yelling at us.
Their yelling sounded like dogs barking, I kept thinking, are they any better then the
Germans? When they let us go, we were all breathing easier. The people from the
committee, who had come to pick us up tried to calm us. They said "It is not as bad as it
sounds. Their bark is worse then their bite." Bark was absolutely right. We were taken
to Honkew, to a former school building which was converted to a "Heim," a shelter
called the "Kinchow Road Heim." The refugees from Germany were assigned two bunk
beds in a former class room. There were forty bunk beds in total, forty couples some
with babies like us. For blankets and linen we had to stand in line and later the same
thing for food. The dining room was very large with long tables and benches. I must say
things did not look too good to me, but we were out of the powder-keg of Europe.
Now I don't remember if I wrote about my breathing difficulty or the terrible back pain I
suffered during our voyage on the ship. I went quite often to the doctor for help. He told
me that it was due to my nursing the baby. He advised me very strongly, that as soon
as I arrived in Shanghai to stop breast feeding my baby. That of course was the biggest
mistake I have ever made, and I made plenty. But what did I know, I was only 18 years
old? What did I know about a tropical climate, and what did I know about changing from
breast milk to cow milk and from tropical diseases. I did not know a darn thing. So I
went to the kitchen and asked for milk for my baby. I knew that the milk had to be
boiled. So I asked the cook to boil the milk. She did it and she said that I have to make
sure that the milk should really boil, she was very nice. That was the first time that I
gave my baby cow milk to drink. My little baby had been eating everything from my
plate in little quantities, only milk he got from me. He drank the milk eagerly, he liked it
more then mine. Of course he did not have to work for it, the milk flowed easily down
and he did not have to suck, besides he was already 10 months old and I guess my
milk did not taste as good any more. The following day in the afternoon he started to
have diarrhea. It became worse during the night, it did not stop and he started bleeding.
The next morning we went to the Immigrants Hospital. At that time the hospital was very
small. It was located on Washington Road.
The hospital had been a small home with a few rooms, which were used as sick-rooms.
It used to be a very nice family home or villa; but not big enough for a hospital. If my
memory does not fail me, I think the whole staff consisted of two doctors, two male and
two female nurses. One of the doctors was Dr. Altman, but I am not sure of the other
doctor, I think it was Dr. Neger. When I came in with my baby, I had the feeling that the
doctors did not understand tropical nor children sicknesses. The doctors told me, that it
would be good to try to nourish the baby by nursing him again I tried; but my baby
would not take it any more. There was no tireuse like in France and I pressed out as
much as I could and fed him the whole day by the spoons full. My baby became sicker
by the minute, he had by now 30 to 40 diarrheas per day. He became very weak and I
was desperate.
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The doctors finally found out that there were 2 children doctors in the International
Settlement in Shanghai and they tried to get them on the phone. Finally they reached
Dr. Mosse. He was a children specialist from Vienna. He came the next day with a
rickshaw, as he did not have a car. It was a long ride for him. My baby was already six
days sick with only my milk keeping him alive. He prescribed some sort of a formula
and to mix in the formula "lactic acid." Well, We prepared it, I tried it and it was
impossible for me to swallow. I told the doctors, that I could not feed that to my baby.
We called Dr. Mosse and he said that a nurse should give it to the baby. They locked
me out and I heard my baby cry and cough it out. I was angry and hurt. We called Dr.
Mosse again after Dr. Altman tried to swallow the medicine himself and he could not
bring it down. I was listening on the other phone as Dr. Altman was speaking with Dr.
Mosse. Dr. Altman said something like there must be something else that would be
easier to swallow, because it is impossible to give this to the baby. Then Dr. Mosse said
something which made me scream of anger. He said and I quote: "There is something;
but it is too expensive." You should have heard me yelling into the phone, something
like, there is nothing that is too expensive for the life of my child. And I don't know what
else I yelled into the phone. He said he does not want to talk or to deal with me and I
had to hang up. Dr. Altman was also very upset about it. I don't know what they were
talking about. I was desperate. The baby was with high temperature and his intestines
came out of his little tusik (behind). I had to massage it into him every time I cleaned
him. He was already half of what he had been before he became sick. We tried to
reach the other doctor, Dr. Glass; but were unable to reach him. The next morning Dr.
Mosse arrived unexpectedly. I guess his conscience was bothering him. He prescribed
Nestles Buttermilk in powder form. It was hard to get and as he had said very
expensive; but we got it for our baby. It really started helping the baby. I still gave him
whatever I could from my milk. My breast were blue, black and yellow from pressing so
hard. His diarrhea went down to about 18 times a day which was better; but not good.
By the end of the second week it got down to about 6 times. We were hoping again that
he would survive it; but then he started all over again, 35 to 40 times a day. I could not
stand it any more. I could see that none of the doctors knew what they were doing. It
was a tropical disease and had to be treated by doctors that knew the sickness. Hans
and I had talked about it before and I told him to go to the committee to get some sort
of a paper in order to take with us if we had to take the baby to the Shanghai General
Hospital and he had gotten that paper.
I remember as if it were yesterday, it was Erev Yom Kipur (the eve of the Day of
Atonement), we took our baby, called a rickshaw and had him take us to the Shanghai
General Hospital. It was a very big building right by the Wang Po river. We went in and
we saw only Chinese nurses and doctors. They came over to us and spoke to us, but
we did not understand them. We tried to make them understand that we spoke
German, Spanish and some French. One doctor understood some French, but not
enough. He sent one of the nurses to get somebody to talk to us. The nurse came back
with a Swiss nun and this nun spoke German. I told her everything that had been
happening to my dear baby and she translated all for the doctor. They did not
understand that our Mike had lived through it for almost 3 weeks, as there was not a
single spot on his tiny behind; but they could see his intestines pushing out. The doctor
was very surprised that he made it that long. I showed him that I was giving him
whatever I could squeeze out of my breast and he said that, that had helped a lot. He
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told us that I have to leave the baby in the hospital, that I could not be there with him. I
cried and begged without success. He said either I leave him or take him back with me.
I had no other choice, it was very difficult for me. The nun told me that they would take
good care of him and that he would be back with us in a couple of weeks. In the mean
time we could visit him every day for two hours.
During the time that I was in the hospital with Mike, Hans had rented a room
somewhere on Ward Road. I had not seen anything from Shanghai, as I was with my
baby all the time in the hospital. Hans took me to our room. It was a very small room. It
was weird, we had no toilet. Outside the stairway in a corner there were 2 buckets. Over
the buckets were toilet seats so you could sit on them and do your business; but there
were no water flushes, no canalization. Early every morning coolies came to pick up the
waste and on the streets all the Chinese women washed the buckets. That was so all
over Honkew; but later I found out that there were a lot of places in the International
Settlement that were also that far behind civilization. This was very hard to get used to.
Back in Spain, between all the other things I was doing, I had learned to make purses
and shopping bags out of remnant leather pieces. Hans and I we had often talked
about it and it seemed a good idea at the time to maybe manufacture this kind of things
and make a business out of it. While I was with Mike in the hospital, Hans made the
acquaintance of a manufacturer of leather goods, who was also interested in what we
were trying to do. He had lots of left over pieces of leather and he would be happy to
get rid of them and get paid for it. Hans had put the whole thing pretty much into
perspective and had really done his leg work. He had already found a little store with
one room and a "toilet" for us alone, he was waiting for my O.K. He wanted badly to
become a manufacturer. That part was alright with me, but I had no idea how he was
going to do it and what it all involved. He had my O.K. I was too involved with my baby
and praying for his good health. We went every day to see him and we got good reports
from the doctor. We also found out that my baby had Bacterial Dysentery. Our emigrant
doctors would never have cured him as it was a tropical disease. Different countries,
have different diseases and have different cures. After a few days of visiting little Mike,
the Swiss nurse waited for me. She asked me not to go to see my baby, as whenever I
left him, he cried very much and that was not good for him. If I wanted to see him. I
should go out on the balcony and look in without him seeing me. I was desolate, I was
not even allowed to hold my baby and to kiss him. I thought it was cruel; but had no
other choice but to obey. I was so unhappy I thought the baby was crying because he
did not love me. Hans was luckier, he could be with him and my little Mike did not cry
after he left.
Two weeks after we had taken our baby to the Chinese hospital, he was returned to us
and he was well, thank God. The doctor told me how to feed him and what to prepare
for him. He was now tiny and thin like a newborn baby. No one could describe our
happiness to have our baby back.
Now our baby became gradually stronger and healthier. He was a beautiful child. Due
to his sickness he lost a lot of the ground he had gained. Before he got sick, he was dry
the whole night, in the morning when I took off his diaper, he would pee when I held him
up. He was almost toilet trained. Little by little it all came back. Now he started smiling
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again and started to sit up again, he was a lot of fun. I started to live again. He was
everything to me.
We had to buy another sewing machine, because we could not sew leather on the
Phoenix machine we had brought with us from France. Now we had two machines and
Hans had put up a long table and had bought knives and scissors to cut the leather
pieces and I was very surprised at how he thought of everything and was so precise.
We started making samples. Hans cut every thing to size and I sew leather purses and
shopping bags and all sort of other things. Our samples were ready and they looked
very good. Hans was preparing himself to sell these in the International Settlement, it
looked promising. But, our bad luck had not ended as yet. After many, many days of
hard work, preparing the samples and getting everything ready for Hans to go out and
hopefully sell a lot, we had a horrible surprise. It was the night from the 12th to the 13th
of November 1939, my dear mother's birthday, we had slept as on no night before,
even little Mike did not wake us – which was strange. It was late when we got up. I
opened the door to the store. The front door to the store was wide open. I said to Hans:
"Did you forget to close the door last night?" Hans came running out and then we saw
it. We had been robbed, the machines were gone and so were the samples and
everything that was not nailed down. When I realized what had happened, I started
screaming, I could not stop screaming. Hans could not do any thing to make me stop.
He was afraid that I had gone mad and even I thought the same thing when I tried to
stop and I could not. I was hysterical. The neighbors were gathering around, they were
all Chinese and who knows, maybe the thief was one of them. Finally I was somehow
calmed down.
The police came and Hans made a report and that was it. The policeman said, that it
seemed to him since we had all slept so well, that the burglars may have blown some
sleeping gas through the key-hole of our room. In that way they were able to work at
ease emptying all we had. We had put all we had in that project, we were bankrupt,
finished. All our dreams and hopes went out of the window. It was a hard pill to swallow.
Since the rent was paid up until the end of December, we had time to figure out our
next step. Three days after the robbery was little Mike's first birthday. Thank God we
had him and he was healthy. The watchman of our lane (he was not watching when we
were robbed) had a Shepherd dog, she had a litter at about that time, so he gave us
one of the dogs, we called him Paco. We loved Paco and he grew like a weed. I could
put him next to Mike outside so he would get some fresh air and if anybody came close
to the baby carriage he would bark and jump on him or her. Everybody passing by
would make a big circle around him. He was a marvelous dog. One day Hans walked
with the dog and came home without him. He told me that the dog had run away. For
days I was searching for him, but could not find him. Later on Hans told me that he was
run over by a car. He did not want to tell me, because he knew how much I loved the
dog and did not know how I would take the news of his death.
Now we were thinking of what to do next. Hans came up with another idea. He said to
me, he actually asked me, what I would think about, his opening a shoe repair shop. I
asked him, what he knew about shoe repair. He would not tell me, he just said it will be
all right and that was not good enough for me. And so he allowed me to discourage
him, with our bad luck I said, I would not let him ruin other people's shoes. G"d knows
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everybody needed shoes and they were hard to come by. Then he heard that in the
new Pingliang Heim, which was far out on the other side in Honkew, they were giving
classes to learn a new profession. He wanted to learn electronics. I had nothing to say
against that. Now he went daily to the Pingliang Road Heim (the name Pingliang has
now been changed). One day he came home and told me that in that Heim they were
building little room like boxes for families to live in and he thought it might be right for us
to move there. It also would make it easier for him to go to learn there. Since we had no
money and we had to move out by the end of December anyway, I agreed to move
there.
I have to inject here that while we were working and negotiating with the manufacturer
in the International Settlement, the situation in Shanghai became worse for us Jews.
The Japanese government closed the immigration to Shanghai. We had received
postcards from Hans' parents, who had been deported from Kalish to Warsaw when the
Germans overran Poland. They were now with their 3 daughters in the Warsaw Ghetto.
I still have the post cards they sent to us, half of what they wrote was covered with
black ink – censored by the Nazis which disturbed us even more. My father-in-law was
half blind and almost 90 years old, so was my mother-in-law and they had them walk,
hitting them with their sticks and killing a whole lot of the Jews on the way. They were
lacking every thing. They asked us to send them tea. We did but I don't know if they
ever received the packages we sent to them. They were terribly worried about the older
brother of Hans, Schlomo. He was arrested in Berlin after they had send their 2 sons,
Manfred and Lothar, to England with a children's transport, to save their lives. Schlomo
was send to a concentration camp and his wife Minna, was desperately trying to get
him out. Shanghai had closed its doors, they only allowed people with a sort of affidavit,
from an established businessman, to come into Shanghai. We had asked the
manufacturer (whose name I forgot) to help us, and he promised to do it. He had the
papers ready for us, when he got a desperate letter from his niece in England telling
him to make papers for her fiancée who was also in a concentration camp in Germany.
He told us that he tried to make one more guaranty; but the Japanese would not allow
him to give two affidavits. So he sent the papers designed for Schlomo, to his niece. It
was a very bitter pill to swallow for us. We wrote to Josef, the other brother of Hans,
who had made it to Argentina and was struggling to feed his family over there. He tried,
but he had only been there for little over a year and could not do any thing for his
brother, just like my parents for us. Before we moved to the Pingliang Heim, beginning
January 1940, the Japanese did not allow any more immigration for Jews. It was also
almost impossible to get out of Germany from 1940 on. Schlomo and Minna both
perished. They were killed by the Germans in Hitler's gas chambers and burned in their
crematories. The same happened to my in-laws and two of their daughters, they were
killed in the Warsaw Ghetto, we never heard any thing of them any more after their last
post-card at beginning of 1941. May they and all of the six million Jews, victims of the
barbaric German regime, rest in peace.
In January 1940 we moved into the Pingliang Heim. The complex the Heim was made
of, used to be a factory of aerocrate stones (hollow concrete bricks used as building
material). It was vacated and almost destroyed by the Japanese and now they allowed
the Jews to repair it for our shelter. As there were a lot of those huge stones and huge
halls, the Committee had the refugees work on it to make it livable for several thousand
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of people. On the far end of the complex they had separated a large hall for families
with children. The boxes were created from the stones, one box per family. Since it was
a former factory, the ceiling was very high and there were windows up high. The walls
between the boxes, were about 2 meter high, the box was 3 meter deep and 1 3/4
meter wide. Ours was the first box, and my next door neighbor was Rega, and her
Husband Ernst, Levita. We did not have any doors on our boxes. We had to make
some curtains to serve as doors. I describe all this because this was to be our home for
about a year and 7 months. Since there was no ceiling covering the boxes we could
hear each other very well, we could not keep any secret from each other. At night
between snoring and farting we had some concerts going on; but we got used to it.
Some of the boxes were bigger then ours, the people occupying them, were already
there when it was all put together and besides, they had some jobs in the camp. For
example, Rega and Ernst had no children at that time, but Ernst was a male nurse in
the home, therefore he was entitled to have his own box, and so were some other
couples.
The boxes were build in a way that they were facing each other with enough room in
the center, to be like a big hallway and we used it as a sitting room for all of us. Also
since the winter was very cold there, they put a heating oven with a big potbelly, I think
it would be called here a furnace, in the center of that hallway and we all enjoyed sitting
around the heat in the evenings. To tell you the truth, these evenings were some of the
happiest times we had over there. It was like being with a big happy family, as we were
getting along very well. Behind the boxes was a little hallway and there it became
another big room. This room was separated into two "toilet boxes" the same ones I had
described before, one for women and one for men. There were other toilets at the
entrance of the Heim, I don't really know how to describe them, but I will try it any way.
There was a trench about 6 or 7 meter long in a covered hut, where every 3 minutes
water was automatically pushed through and over these trenches one had to do his or
her business in a squat position. The same thing was in another hut for women with
one difference. Our crew had build little boxes out of wood, so that when we were
squatting down we did not have to look at each other. Around the rest of the room some
tables were set up for us, were we put our little kerosene cookers and there we tried to
improve the food we got to make it tastier. We also had on one wall a few water faucets
with one sink running under all of them, but no hot water. We were lucky to get water at
all and so close. To go to the entrance of the Heim from where our "family apartment"
was, was a good 8-minute walk. All the things I am talking about were installed by our
own working crew. I must mention here, that the Pingliang Heim was considered a
bachelor home, there were about, maybe, including some off the staff couples and they
had rooms in the front of the Heim, 18 or 20 women in this particular Heim. The rest of
the inhabitants were all men, and they were living in big halls 60 to 80 men in one of the
halls. The crew, and those men learning new professions, made all these things for us
and made our life more comfortable, Hans had brought a new idea to us on our family
evenings, I will tell you how.
We received three meals a day. Since we did not want to sit in the eating hall, and, if I
remember it right, there were over 2000 refugees in this Heim, getting the food was a
process. We had to stand in line for our food. One of each of our families went to get
the food so we could eat it in our boxes. At the beginning, until America and Japan
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entered the war and world war two started, there was plenty of food for us. We had a lot
of bread – and at that time the bread was very good. We made a deal with the cook:
when we were supposed to get hard boiled eggs, cooked potatoes in their jackets, we
asked him to give them to us raw. This way we could prepare our food by ourselves and
make some better meals. Also they gave us the bread already sliced, so we asked for
whole bread and we got it. Later on they asked us, if we would like some leftover sliced
bread and we took that too. And that was where Hans came in handy: he showed us all
how to make peinitzlach on our potbelly oven heater. He made a flat wire net to put on
top of our heater, we put the sliced old bread an top and toasted the slices that way.
We rubbed it on one side with garlic and spread margarine on top of it. We ate
peinitzlach on the cold evenings with tea: we felt like we were living in paradise. None of
us there had ever eaten garlic bread before.
There was one more source of welfare we had in Shanghai and that was the Paul
Komor Milk Fund Foundation. Paul Komor was a Hungarian, not a Jew, who had made
it his business to provide our children with pasteurized milk. Every child of our
community had milk delivered every morning by his foundation. Besides that, later on
when food for us became scarcer, he opened a Kindergarten for our children. Not only
were the children cared for by responsible teachers and nurses during the day time;
they were also fed very well fed. I met with him later on and I will tell you about him. He
was a remarkable personality. Thank you Mr. Paul Komor for all you did for us.
Life in the Pingliang Heim was actually very nice, we made our best friends there and I
would not have wanted to miss a minute of it. We had everything, there was an
infirmary, three doctors, and two male nurses. There were several workshops where
lots of men were re-learning for the future. In Shanghai there really was no possibility to
work for a European, as the coolies worked for a handful of rice. Seeing how the
Chinese lived, we lived in luxury, but by European standards, we were the poorest of
the poor. Hans was learning to become an electrician, he never learned a thing. If I
sound bitter, it is because I was bitter. Now we had enough to eat, but man does not
live on bread alone. We needed other things like clothing and I wanted for little Mike
some sweets and some real butter; but we had no money. It was strange, other people
there were in the same situation we were in, but some-how most of the men were able
to earn some money to bring home, but not Hans. Like for example Ernst Levita, he
was not a nurse in Germany, but he became one in Shanghai. His earnings were very
low but it was something. And there was Friedrich Levy, he was a farmer in Germany,
he operated the canteen in the camp and his daughter Irene was 16 years at the time,
helped him with the cooking and cleaning. He and his son Kurt occupied the box across
from us. Irene, who was too old to be with her father in one room, had the small box on
his left with two other girls too old to be in a small box with their parents. All the men
living in our little community did something to make a few Dollars. We had a plumber by
the name Klavansky, he was one of the teachers. One of his girls, lived in the box with
Irene and I think the daughter of Simons, they had the box next to the Levitas, was the
third girl living with Irene in her box. Then we had a carpenter with his wife (I forgot their
name) and the locksmith, Vater Kohn. They all did some work for the home and got
some pay for it. Then there was the family Scharnitsky, they had 2 lovely children, boy
and girl. I believe they were at the time four and six years old. His name was Erich and
he worked something in the administration in the Heim.
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I want to talk a little about the Kohn's. They were a nice couple with a little boy of
maybe 4 or 5 years old. I think the boy's name was Manfred. They were a little older
then the rest of us and we all called them Mother and Father Kohn. She was very
religious, She bensched, blessed, candles every Friday evening and said her prayers,
not in front of us; but as I told you before, there was no way to keep a secret in these
boxes. He was not religious at all, not learned in Jewish religion. One day somebody
from the camp who knew them from before, referred to her as a Schikse (pejorative
reference to a non-Jewish girl) and he heard it. Well, was he angry and shouting at the
offender. He said that if he ever referred to her as a Schikse again, he would kill him.
Then we found out that she had become Jewish on her own. Her husband had not
asked her to convert; to him, religion was nonsense – and, at that time, to convert to
Judaism was somewhat suicidal. But since she had become Jewish and was observing
Judaism, nobody had a right to call her a non-Jew. He was absolutely right. We all
loved her, She was like a mother to all of us and we learned a lot from her. She brought
up her son in the Jewish tradition, the way it was supposed to be. I remember she
heard from her family that her mother had passed away and like a good Jewish
daughter she sat Schiva (Jewish mourning ritual) for her. We all respected her very
much.
I started sewing for the single men, as I did in France: changing collars by hand and in
general fixing clothes. This way I made a few Shanghai Dollars. One Day we got a call
from the police, they had found my stolen sewing machines. A policeman came out to
our Heim, he was also a refugee. He came out in a motorcycle with a side seat and
asked me to come with him to see if they were my machines. I went with him to a
money lenders store. Sure enough there were my machines. Now came the problem,
He had given money for them and he wanted his money back and there was nothing we
could do about it. Remember this was China. When they stole the machines they had
only taken the sewing heads of them and left the tables. We kept these just in case the
police would find them. We made a deal with the moneylender: He got one table and I
got one head. I had to take the smaller machine, the one I had brought from France,
because I had no room for the bigger machine. Now I had something to work with. The
Police had caught the robbers on another job and they had confessed to have stolen
from us too. The thieves told the police where they had fenced the machines. The case
came to court and I went to court too. Those robbers were 2 very poor coolies – I even
felt sorry for them because they went to jail – so much for that.
In Shanghai there were over 20,000 refugees and the monies to support us came
mainly from the "Jewish Joint Organization" in the United States. From these monies
we were fed, housed, medically cared for including administration and hospitals, and so
forth. At the beginning we had 5 Heime (camps) that took in more than half of the
refugees. The rest of the refugees lived in private rooms for as long as they could afford
it. There were a lot of refugees that managed to bring smuggle some their goods and
jewelry out of Germany and lived off it. Remember, Shanghai was only a passing
situation for all of us, none of us would have wanted to live there forever. There was no
future for any of us in Shanghai. Many of the refugees started little businesses right in
Honkew and did quite well with them. When the first refugees came to Honkew,
Honkew was in ruins from the Japan- China war. Our refugees rebuild all the places
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were we lived as well as the Chussan Road, which was to become the center of our
community, was rebuild with businesses where one could find almost everything. Later
the situation became worse, as their monies ran out and they also needed help and
shelter, 2 more camps sprung up.
Slowly it became more difficult to take care of all of us. Food became scarce and even
with my work I was not making enough to make a living. After all, the work I was doing
did not bring in as much as it would if I would work for people with means. We were all
poor schnooks, most of the refugees were dressed in rags, and walked on wooden
slippers.
The news from Europe was not encouraging, the war was in full swing and the
Germans were taking over. They had invaded Poland in September 1939, then the
Russians, not much better than the Germans, invaded Poland on the other side.
Encouraged by their success, the Russians invaded Finland. I think it was in April 1940,
the Germans launched a surprise attack on Norway and Finland. Then came the lower
countries. Germany assaulted Belgium, Luxembourg, and Holland. They practically
overrun them without much fighting. The Germans had already taken Austria and
Czechoslovakia in 1938 and now they got into France through the lower countries. The
Maginot line had no effect, if I remember it right, the Germans went around it. They took
over almost 3/4 of France. The governments of the countries taken over by the
Germans fled to England. Now the Germans prepared themselves to invade England. I
don't know all the details of the war in Europe, I only know that it was not promising at
all.
Here we were isolated from that war, thanks heaven; but Shanghai was only a step in
between, a place to save our lives until it was all over. The way it looked to us,
Germany was so superior to all those countries, would there be a place to go when the
war was over? Were we safe even in China? For the time being we were; but Japan,
Germany and Italy had a pact called the Axis, how long would it take for the Japanese
to follow Hitler's example? This and the worries and fears we had for our loved ones in
all the countries occupied by the Germans, cut off from us, made us feel our
helplessness and insecurity even more. From my in-laws we still received some cards
full of terror, they never wrote that they had received anything that we had sent them.
Those Germans confiscated everything. Ida, the youngest of the of the girls was not
with them any more, she had escaped and at the time we did not know were she had
gone. After the war was over we heard from her, she had joined the Anders Armee, the
Polish resistance. Then somehow she landed in Palestine where she met an English
soldier with whom she later went to England and married. The last post card we
received from my in-laws was in April of 1941 and that was about the time when I
received the llamada from my parents from Argentina. About that I will write later on,
because lots of things happened before that.
CHINA. PART 2.
It was in April or May of 1940, when there was a strike of the volunteer nurses in our
Emigrants Hospital in the Ward Road Heim. This hospital was opened after the
Washington hospital – were I was with little Mike – was closed because of the demand
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for more room and beds. This hospital had, if I remember right, about 80 or 90 beds,
divided between 2 floors. The first floor was for men and the second for women. I had
never seen it before, as we lived far out from where the bulk of the 18,000 refugees
lived. So there was a strike, the nurses demanded pay for their services. I felt very bad
for the patients and decided to go to help the sick and learn at the same time to
become a nurse. Little did I know about strike breaking at that time, I was only 19 years
old and I only followed my feelings – I would learn later, in the United States, when I
became a Business Agent for the International Ladies Garment Workers Union. But
that is another story, I will tell about later on.
Now, our hospital was in trouble. Notices were put up in all the Heime to come and help
out: No experience necessary. I went and introduced myself and was accepted. The
only pay we got was the hospital food, which was much better then we ever got in the
Heime. I brought my portions home for Hans and my little Mike. I ate what the patients'
leftovers. I worked and learned at the same time and pretty soon the striking nurses
came back to work and had won a salary of 50 Shanghai dollars a month, which was at
the time maybe U.S. $5.-, but it was something and I was paid too. It seemed that they
appreciated my work and they did not want to let me go, so I stayed on and was
delighted.
I have to tell something about my name change. Ever since I grew up I did not like it to
be called Lottchen. My names are Rita Charlotte. I liked Rita and I liked Charlotte; but
Lotte or Lottchen specially the chen added to it I did not particularly like (the "chen" is a
German diminutive which may suggest a small child). So when I started to work at the
hospital, I made myself known as Rita. Just for fun I have to tell you, it did not work.
When the patients became familiar with me, they called me Ritachen.
I liked very much to work in the hospital and I learned a lot. There were four large sickrooms and two smaller ones plus a room for the doctors, an operating room for minor
operations and an emergency room which included pharmaceutical and sterilizing stuff
and three real toilets with running water and hot and cold water faucets on the second
floor. Four large sickrooms plus administration and linen rooms in the lower floor, also
equipped with toilets and hot and cold running water faucets. There also was a tiny
room were one of the nurses working a 24 hour shift, could rest on a bed for a couple of
hours. I don't exactly remember how it all was; but I think I am pretty accurate. There
were about six or seven doctors and about 18 or 19 nurses all together both male and
female. Mostly the male nurses were with the men down stairs; but they always came
up when we needed them.
I was working in the hospital about four or five weeks, when my period did not come. I
was really desperate. Hans as usual said it could not be from him. We did not use any
protection like a condom or so. First of all I did not know about it and had I known, I
would not have known where to get it nor could we afford it, but it never was his. After
my period was out for the second time, I spoke to one of our doctors. Dr. Veroe
examined me and said that I was pregnant. That was all I needed. We did not have
enough to eat, I had a hard time to give to my Mike what he needed to grow up and to
be healthy. What should I do? This was not a place to bring children into the world, the
whole world was not worth to live in and I could not and would not bring a new life into
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this lousy world. So I asked for an abortion, I had seen several of them done in our
hospital so I thought I would do the same. It was not all that easy as I thought it would
be. I got my lecture then. Abortions seemed to be illegal in Shanghai, only if the
mother's life was in danger by carrying the baby the full term, was it permitted. I had to
get an indication to that respect from a doctor outside of the hospital in order for the
hospital to do it. I finally got the indication from a doctor recommended to me and had
my first abortion. All went well, and after about a week of rest I was back at work.
The days I went to work little Mike stayed with Rega and the whole "family " and of
course with his father. He was watched by all of them. He was very attached to Rega
and Ernst. Rega was his second mother, and she loved him very much. Bubi was the
sweetheart of the whole Heim. First of all he was the youngest kid there and he was so
cute, with his blond locks and blue eyes. He was really like a doll. They made toys for
him, engineer Helfer (helper) who was one of the teachers and also worked in the
administration of the camp, built him a little push-cart and Bubi would not go out doors
without his push-cart. He also had a cat, and he would wander all around the camp with
his cat in the cart. I have some pictures of him with cat and cart. He was a lovely baby
and still is a handsome wonderful son. There was not a person in the whole camp that
did not know and love my little boy. When he started talking and wanted to say Levita,
some how it came out Vitala and that is the name Rega kept during all those years. She
still now is recognized by Shanghai people by the name of Vitala.
I think I mentioned Dr. Veroe but did not describe him. He was a geschmatter Jew (a
renegade – a Jew who had converted to Christianity), and I did not like it when he made
derogatory remarks to our Yiddish speaking patients. He really showed himself
sometimes to be an anti-Semite with his remarks and actions. We had a stand up
comedian in the hospital. He was a diabetic and, since there was not enough insulin, he
had to be watched constantly to survive. He lived in the hospital and was taken care of
with the right food and regular tests. One morning during the doctor visits, Dr. Veroe
discharged him abruptly. Now this man I will call him Art (I forgot his name) had
nowhere to go. The other doctors tried to intervene for him but Dr. Veroe did not give in.
So in the afternoon before Art left, he went to the doctors room to say his good bye. All
the doctors were sitting in the room as Art said: "I would like to tell you a little story
before I leave." Here it is: "A man came to a kosher restaurant, he asked for a mug of
beer and a bowl of cholent" (a bean and meat dish usually eaten on Saturdays). The
waiter brings them and the man eats and drinks. When the man was through he asked
to get the same order. He did that three times. The waiter was surprised and though:
"Who is that man? If he is a goy (gentile), how come he eats so much cholent and his
belly is not exploding? If he is a Jew, how come he drinks so much beer and he is not
schicker (drunk)?" Finally he figured it out: "the man is not a Yid (Jew) and not a goy.
He is a mishemud (a renegade Jew). If he is a mishemud, soll er gehen in d'rerd!" (Of
course, it sounds better in Yiddish: he should go to hell!). He then shook hands with all
of them and left. When the other doctors came out of the room they were still laughing
as they told me about it. Art only lived a couple of months more. When he came back to
the hospital it was just to die, because by that time we had no insulin at all.
We kept strange hours at the Hospital, four days we worked eight hour shifts, the fifth
day, we worked twenty-four hours straight. The sixth and seventh days we had off. I
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don't know if I remember all the names of the doctors. There was Dr. Veroe, he was the
chief doctor the "geschmatter" Jew. He was Hungarian and a refugee from Austria.
Very tall and very handsome and he wanted to be called by every body Herr Chef Arzt,
meaning chief doctor. I had never heard somebody called that way, neither did the
others; but that was what he insisted on. He was not very well liked, not by his
colleagues, and others and that was only because of his arrogance and his pronounced
anti-Jewish attitude. I got along with all of them until I knew better. There was Dr.
Neger, Dr. Altman, whom I knew from the Washington Road Hospital, Dr. Kunfi, Dr.
Elias, and Dr. Mannheim. Dr. Mannheim was very nice but very nervous. He had been
in a concentration camp in Germany, were they had beaten him half to death and had
remained with a nervous tick. Every few minutes his head would shake; but he was a
very good physician. And there were a few others; but I can not remember their names.
Then we had on the other side of the Hospital about 2 lanes (foot traffic alleys that lead
to apartments or living quarters) into the Ward Road Heim, a small maternity ward. It
was lead by Dr. Zelnik and he had with him 2 nurses. Dr. Zelnik was an excellent
gynecologist and his first nurse, Frieda Rafael, was a registered nurse –she too was
outstanding. There also was a second nurse, Else, she was learning the ropes from
Frieda and Frieda was a very good teacher, she was from the old school. Then there
was an emergency room downstairs from the maternity ward for the people living in the
Heim. They too had a few doctors and nurses there. I think there were about 5 Heime in
total in Honkew and each of them had an emergency room with doctors and nurses at
hand.
It was fun to work in the hospital. Everybody was very nice to me and the nurses taught
me whatever they knew, I think we only had one registered nurse there. We were
mostly nurse's aids. I was very interested in learning all I could and the doctors could
see it and tried to teach me. Mostly I learned during my 24 hour shift and specially
doctor Elias took time to teach me how to sterilize instruments, how to give injections
and how to bandage and to clean wounds. I appreciated and still do, for all the time he
spent teaching me when he could have slept, because I could only learn when it was
quiet and that was during the nights when most of the patients were asleep. Of course,
not every night I had my shift was quiet, some nights we did not get any time to learn or
for the doctor to rest. We had a lot of suicide cases coming in and it was no fun to
pump out their stomachs to save their lives and lots of times we did not succeed in
saving them and that hurt like hell. Other small emergencies were taken care of in the
camp's emergency rooms. Large operations were not taken care of in our little hospital,
first, we had no surgeons working on our staff. For small operations a Dr. Wiener came
in once a week, he always called me to help him or just to see and to learn. He was
also very nice.
I was always appalled when I heard the doctors use foul language. Is that what they
learned in the Universities? One time Dr. Veroe used some words that I was shocked
and blurted out: "could you not use a better language?" He looked at me and said to the
others: "look at this innocent little girl here, next time remind me to send her out when I
want to make a statement." They were all laughing and I was so ashamed. And you
know what, some times when we were all together and he was talking he would
suddenly turn around as if looking for me and say: "Is the little one here, send her out, I
want to say something." He always got a laugh out of it, but I was embarrassed. There
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are a lot of stories I can tell from the hospital. Some I kept especially in my mind and I
will try to remember those that really made an impact on me to write them down.
In the mornings we always were very, very busy. We had to wash those patients unable
to wash themselves. We had to make the beds, bring, take and clean the bed pans for
those patients not allowed to get out of bed, copy the prescriptions of the patients files
to be given in the morning, getting those prescriptions from the pharmacy bring
breakfast around, feed some of the patients take urine tests, take those to the
laboratory, and other things. All of this had to be done before the doctors made their
rounds. One day I was alone with my two rooms full of patients, the other nurse
supposed to be there with me had not come. I could not do it all by myself, one of the
male nurses came up and said he would help me. I gave him my list of medications to
get from the pharmacy and told him to distribute them to the patients. He was a very
nice person, I just remember his name, Alexander. I had written down the patient's
name and his medication. He did as I had asked him to do, and then he went down to
his own department. It gave me time to finish every thing else before the doctors
showed up.
I had a heart patient in my ward, she had received for some time now the same
medication, Chinidin. It was a sort of a powder and came packed in a tiny envelope.
She was supposed to get it twice daily. When I had my 24 hour shift, I tried to save time
by ordering all the medication in the morning and kept the medication for the evening in
the patients drawer. All the patients knew of this and did not take more than they were
supposed to take. After I was through with my work and the doctors had not appeared
as yet, I went to the patients, those supposed to get their medication twice a day and
put the evening part away. Every patient did the right thing, but the one with the
Chinidin. I asked her where the evening portion was and she said that she had taken
both of them. I did not say anything to her, but was scared to death that something
could happen to her. As soon as I came out of the room I went to see Dr. Elias and told
him of it and asked him if there was something that we could do to undo what was
done. He calmed me down and assured me that nothing would happen to her. Now
came the doctor visits, I can still see the doctors around her bed and Dr. Veroe
checking her over. Then he took her chart and asked her if she is taking her medication
and she said yes and, since he wanted to discontinue that particular medication, he
asked her, did you take it today already? She said yes, both of them. He asked both of
them, how come? Well she said I got these two new little pills and I swallowed them
with water. If looks could kill, I would have been instantly death. That was the way Dr.
Veroe and all the others looked at me. I did not know what Alex had given her, that was
news to me too. The doctor, did not say anything to me then; but outside out of earshot
from the patients I got my ears full.
First he wanted to know what I had given her. I took out my list and went to the
pharmacy to check it. Instead of Chinidin Alex had asked for Chinin. (Quinine) and that
was what she had taken. But Veroe was very angry, he said to me and made it very
clear that if there was one more slight slip up, I would be out. I could understand that,
given a wrong medication to a patient could kill him. I had no intention to implicate Alex
in it, there was enough yelling and screaming for a day and whenever Dr. Veroe ran
into me on the hallway, he said angrily, get out of my way! The only one who knew that
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I did not do it was Dr. Elias and I had not told him neither who it was. After the 24-hour
shift I had two days free. When I came back to work Dr. Veroe took me aside and he
said to me, that he knew it was someone else who made the mistake and wanted to
find out who it was. I told him it was me and I was responsible and that is it. He looked
at me, squeezed my shoulders and then lifted his hand above his head and said: "Rita,
You have grown that much in my eyes." Later on Dr. Elias told me, that Dr. Veroe was
so mad at me for making such a mistake, that he had to tell him, that I did not do it.
That was one of the episodes I went through. There was a patient and she had
diabetes. A tiny tumor had grown in the back of her neck. The doctor said it was a
carbuncle and he said we have to watch it carefully, because sometimes it goes away
by itself, but sometimes, when it grows, it had to be cut open to let it drain out. Now she
had it for quite some time and it did not go one way or the other, she had no sensation
of pain there. One night, during my 24 hour shift, I made my round to see if all was
alright. I always made my rounds every two hours equipped with a flash light, so as not
to disturb the patients during the night. I went and looked at her, she was laying on her
back face up sleeping. I had turned away already looking at another patient; but I
turned back because something I could not pinpoint was bothering me. I looked closer
with my flashlight, she did not wake up and then I saw it. Under her head and neck,
there was blood, lots of blood. It was her paleness that had bothered me. I ran to the
doctor’s room. The doctor, ‘Dr #1’, was one who had started to work with us only about
four weeks before that incident. I woke him up and told him that we have an
emergency. We both got into the sick-room and turned the lights on. Every patient
awoke but she didn't. I think her name was Mary. Mary had lost so much blood, she
was so weak, that we hardly could wake her. The blood had seeped into her pillow and
down into the mattress. I called 2 male nurses from down stairs, they came with a
stretcher, lifted her out of that bed and took her into the operating room. The doctor
washed himself and he put sterile gauze on the wound and pressed hard in order to
stop the bleeding. He stood there not knowing what to do. I could see that she was
bleeding to death and I asked him, if he would not do something. He said that he did
not know where to begin and I should call one of the other doctors.
There was no time for that and most of the doctors did not have telephones. He was
with a cotton ball and gauze pushing into the wound trying to stop the bleeding. It was
the carbuncle that had burst and did all that bleeding. I remembered Dr. Zelnik at the
maternity, called him and told him shortly what was going on. I can still see him coming
in, he had put his white coat over his pajamas. As soon as he saw what had happened,
he started giving orders. He looked at the instruments we had in sterilized boxes,
picked out the instruments he needed and had me boil them again. In the mean time
we all had to wash and sterilize ourselves. ‘Dr #1’ was to give her the anesthesia and I
was to assist him Dr. Zelnik. That was quite an order and I was really scared. He said to
me that I could do it, that if I followed his orders every thing would be all right.
I laid out the instruments for him as Dr. Elias had taught me. ‘Dr #1’ prepared the
anesthesia. The anesthesia consisted of: ‘Dr #1’ put a little triangle mask over Mary's
mouth. With a drop-bottle, like the ones we have now to put eye drops into the eyes –
only much bigger, he put slowly one by one drops of ether, or maybe it was chloroform,
on top of the mask. I handed the instruments to Dr. Zelnik the way he asked for it. Mary
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was lying on her side and it was not an easy position to operate on. When I saw the
doctor make a criss-cross cut into her flesh, I felt that I was going to faint. My legs
became heavy and my blood must have run out of my head. Dr. Zelnik looked up and
told me to breathe deeply – I guess he could see in my face that I was not feeling too
hot. I think that it was not only the operation by itself that made me sick, it also was the
smell of the ether that did it to me. I stuck it out until it was over. I don't know what he
did; but the bleeding stopped and then he bandaged her and slowly she awoke. After it
was all over Dr. Zelnik told me “you did very well and if you ever need another job or
like to change, you are always welcome in my maternity ward.” It made me feel very
good.
Another case, also a patient with diabetes, was a 21 year old woman Frau Weizner,
married with one child 2 years old. She was so young and full of life. She came into the
hospital with something else, I don't remember what it was. As with every new patient I
had to take a urine specimen to the lab. I did not understand the way the specimen
looked, it looked like egg-white swimming in it and was wondering if this had any
meaning. About an hour later, I was downstairs in the supply room to get linen for my
patients, when the doctors were passing by making their round in the lower sick-rooms,
the lab technician came running in the hall way. He called out to the doctors: "Did you
know, that you have a severe case of Diabetes in the hospital?" And I without thinking
blurred out loud:" Frau Weizner?" They all turned to me and wanted to know how I
knew. After feeling embarrassed I said that I did not know; but that the specimen had
looked so different and that I was thinking about its meaning. Well, she was a severe
case and our hospital did not have insulin to help her. It was a terrible struggle to try to
save her life. We could not get insulin anywhere. Her husband went to all the
pharmacies in Shanghai and could not get it. They asked to send the medication from
America and in the hospital we tried our utmost to keep her alive. It did not help, she
died before the insulin arrived. The whole hospital was in mourning for her and her
lovely family.
There was another incident that also happened during my 24 hour shift. It was one of
the easier nights, meaning it was not too busy. I went down to talk to the two male
nurses, and asked them if they were very busy. (There always were two male nurses on
duty at night.) I asked them if they could also watch my station so I could lie down for a
while as I was very tired and had a very hard day behind me. So one of them came up
and I told him to wake me in two hours so that I could do my next round, or before that
time if the need arises. I fell asleep like a log. I was awakened by somebody kissing me
on my mouth. I woke up, it was dark in the room and I did not know at the moment
where I was and I did not know who was in the room. Then I remembered, jumped out
of the bed (I was fully dressed) and turned the light on. It was the male nurse and I got
very angry with him. He told me that he fell in love with me from the first day that I came
to work in the hospital. Well, I was not in love with him, I liked him very much but not
love. Besides that I was married and he was also married and had a lovely little boy. I
told him to lay-off, that he could not do things like that with me. Needless to say, that it
was the first and the last time that I asked the male nurses to help me out so as to go to
sleep. He did not give up easily, whenever he had night duty at the same time I did, he
would come up and try to kiss me again. I was so worried about that situation, I told
Hans that I decided to stop working in the hospital and that he should try to find a job.
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He wanted to know why, because he knew that I liked to work there and when he
insisted to know the reason, I finally told Hans about it. And as usually, he put the
blame on me. He claimed that I must have encouraged him. We had a terrible fight
about it. Then he said that I could not stop working that we needed the money. Sure he
needed the money and the food I brought home. He needed cigarettes to smoke while
he was sitting in the canteen playing cards. Other men always found something to do,
but not my husband. The next morning Hans came to the hospital and spoke to the
offending male nurse and got his promise not to bother me any more. I was so
ashamed I never could live it down. Hans was the one who always brought it up, telling
me what a low person I was. I could not forgive him for practically forcing me to
continue working there. Had he been half the man he was supposed to be, he would
not let me go back to work there.
And then I missed my period the second time. Now you should have heard my "
wonderful" husband." Now this for sure was not his. Do I have to tell you, how much I
hated him at that time? Then I felt sorry for my self, I felt sorry that I had not have had
an affair, after all if you get the blame, you might as well play the game. I had another
abortion. I guess Hans felt guilty after that abortion, he tried with all means to make up.
I told him that if I had to have another abortion he would have to find himself some body
else to sleep with. He promised to be more careful.
I remember another case involving a little girl of 3 or 4 years old. This child was brought
in with burns over half of her body, it was one of the worst things I had ever seen. Most
of them were 3rd degree burns. From her neck down half of her back, her right arm and
leg, all in the back was so burned that the flesh was coming off in strips. The child was
unconscious when it was brought in. A waterbed was made up for her; but that did not
work. We were not equipped for such terrible things. I remember the doctor asking us to
bring bed linen and we cut it to size, then we spread all over the linen a yellow ointment
lots of it and then the little girl was wrapped in it. Every day she was put in a bathtub
and in the water the linen was soaked off and slowly removed from her little body. It
was so painful that I was crying with her. The doctor showed me how to do it and I gave
her the bath every day while another nurse prepared the linen with the ointment. Lucky
that she did not get any burns in her face so she had no scars there, but where she was
burned, it had left her with terrible scars. One day when I was not working, she would
not let someone else give her the bath, she was crying for Rita to give it to her. I was
called from the Heim to give it to her. I had to do a lot of talking to her and explain that
the others will do just as good a job as I did. I had to prove it to her by being there when
another nurse would bathe her. She was a very long time in the hospital. There are a lot
of stories I could tell have told about the hospital but most of them I have forgotten
already. Only one more, that got stuck in my brain I will tell about. We had a middle
aged lady in the ward, I think her name was Margot. Something was wrong with her gall
bladder; but the bladder had been removed years before in Germany. She had been
there for some time. Tests were made and nothing was found; but she got better with
diet alone. She was discharged and was waiting for her husband to pick her up, when
she started to feel sick. I felt her head and she was burning with temperature. The
doctor checked her over and could not find anything wrong with her and she was readmitted to the ward. Her fever remained high and there was nothing to be found wrong
with her. I don't remember the medication she was given to reduce the fever; but what I
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remember was that after she had been in the ward for about three weeks all the seams
from her former operations opened up. She had the scar from the gall bladder
operation, one from an appendix, which was done when she still was a child and a
hysterectomy from years back. Our doctors did not know how to explain that. She
needed someone at her side during day and night and her husband could not afford a
private nurse. We all felt sorry for her and between us nurses we decided to stay nights
with her. With all the work we had to do, we still managed to watch her at night, one at
the time. We changed the bandages twice a day and somehow when the fever left her,
her wounds started closing up again. When she finally left the hospital we were all
celebrating, because we never thought that she would ever be well again.
I am going to tell one more episode which I think is worthwhile to write about. Again this
lady, I forgot her name, was in her middle age. She was operated in another hospital
and was diagnosed with a cancer of the urinary tract. I think that it maybe called that
way; but I may be wrong. She had problems urinating. Anyway they had opened her,
cut a straight line from the navel down and when they saw the cancer, apparently it had
spread, they closed her up leaving an opening in her womb and sent her to die in our
immigrants hospital. I really don't know what they did to her, as they did not put a tube
into the hole for drainage. We had to change the bandages over the hole constantly, as
the urine was seeping out of her. I asked the doctors what was going to happen to her, I
could see that that the hole was getting smaller as time went on. It was explained to
me, that as long as there was a hole were the urine could come out, she would live.
When the hole closes up, the urine would then get into her blood, since the urinary tract
was blocked by the cancer. Once the urine gets into her blood, she will die. This poor
lady was in constant pain and the doctors said there was no reason for her to suffer so
much and since at that time we still had enough morphine at hand, we alleviated her
pain with it. She was a very nice lady and we all felt so sorry for her. Time went on and
the hole became smaller and smaller until one morning when I started to work and
changed he bandage it was closed. This was the moment of truth. A little while after I
had changed her she asked for a bedpan she felt the urgency to pee. My heart slipped
down to my feet, I was thinking, "what is going to happen now?" And then I heard a
tinkling into the bedpan. I uncovered her to look: and, sure enough, she was urinating
the normal way. I was so excited, I ran down the hallway to the doctor's room
screaming, "She pees! She pees!" The doctors laughed, asking me, "Who pees?"
When I told them, they too became very excited and came to check it out by
themselves. The doctors could not believe it either, it was like a miracle. They even
called the surgeon from the hospital where she was operated, and he too said that it
was a miraculous thing that happened. Now she was normal and every thing went fine,
only, she was hooked on the morphine, she had become an addict. It was a big
hardship to get her off the drug, for her and also for us. She went through terrible
withdrawal pains; but we were there to help her. She was only let go, released, when
she was completely cured from everything.
We were terribly hurt when about 8 or 9 months later, she committed suicide by
hanging herself from her window. She did not leave a note. She was all alone. We
never found out why. There were so many suicides in Shanghai committed by our
immigrants. It was the hopelessness of our situation, not knowing what was going on at
home, were those loved ones over there still alive? And then those people who stayed
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outside of our camps, once they ate up all their reserves and were facing the need to
enter a camp, where the situations had also become worse, combined with the news of
the war, which was not encouraging at all, drove people to desperation. We were about
22,000.00 refugees at the beginning in Shanghai; but only 15,000.00 when the war was
over. And there were quite a lot children born to refugees in Shanghai. I think that says
something about the goings on. Of course we also have to take into consideration all
the diseases taking their toll of death, in a country full of diseases.
Life went on with all the little and big problems and worries. It was about the month of
August 1940, When I came down with an acute appendicitis. The operation could not
take place in our hospital, so I had to be taken to a small hospital in the French Town in
the International Settlement. At that time 1940 and in Shanghai, it was not considered a
small operation. Now here, it is considered routine. I think if I remember it right, I was
for two weeks in that hospital. (The name of the hospital and the doctor who operated
on me has slipped my mind completely.) What I do remember is, that from the
Immigrants Hospital 2 nurse colleagues of mine came to visit me together and brought
me a basket with lots of goodies and flowers. But the best part of it was a letter they
wrote to me in a verse. I still have this letter somewhere. This letter and the fact of them
coming to visit me so far out of Honkew and, believe me it was not easy to do, showed
me that I was liked by my companions at the hospital. I laughed so much reading the
letter and laughing hurt me terrible after the operation. I must tell you, for the first time
in my life I knew that I was doing some thing worth while and that the work I was doing
was appreciated. They all missed me and wanted me back in their midst. Two weeks
later I was back at work and into my old routine.
And so I was working and enjoying my days off with my darling Mike, he sure was
something special, my joy and my pride. Rega and I we became very good friends. She
loved my little Bubi and when I was not there, he was always with her. One day at work
a patient was brought in with very high temperature. Not only had she high temperature
but she had spots all over her body so she was isolated as they said she had measles.
Never in my life had I seen a dirtier woman then she was. Our doctors said, that before
they could even examine her, she had to be washed from head to toe. We did not have
a bathtub at on the premises and it was my turn to wash her and I did. I almost had to
cut all her hair off; because she had not combed it in ages. Her clothes were filthy and
full of lice. It went right into the furnace. Finally I got through with her and I washed
myself and changed into other clothes given to me by the hospital and went home. In
the middle of the night Ernst came with the doctor from the camp and awoke our whole
little community. The women I had cleansed turned out to have "Spotted Typhoid
Fever", a very contagious Typhoid and every one that I had been in contact with had to
be inoculated. We all got our shots and thank G"d, none of us was infected. When I
came back to work, the patient had already been taken to the Isolation Hospital and the
bedding and everything that had come in contact with her was burned. All the patients
in the sickroom she had been in were also inoculated. The isolation hospital was far
from the city, The Chau Fong Heim, had also a department of isolation, but real
dangerous cases were taken to the city's isolation hospital. We later heard that the
woman had passed away. There was never a dull moment.
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While all this things were going on in Shanghai, we heard about the bombings on
London by the Germans, about French and Belgian and other governments and
Holland's Queen Wilhelmina, all fleeing to England running away from the Germans.
We heard of the German invasion into Russia. All these things so far away and so close
to our hearts. We did not get the news like we get it today. We got it in bits and pieces.
There was no television, not many had even a radio. If somebody brought a newspaper
into the camp, it would go from hand to hand and for days discussed and dissected. But
we really never got the right information, and we were in any case so helpless, cut off
and could not do any thing about it, one way or the other. I can not describe the feelings
of hopelessness we all had. We were waiting, waiting for what? But life went on and on
and on. What we could not understand was, why was America not doing anything to
help Europe? Was America waiting until Hitler would get so strong that he would attack
America too? If Hitler would take over the world, there was no place for any Jew to go.
We did not know then, that the extermination of European Jewry had already begun.
I wrote about Dr. Veroe's anti-Semitic remarks, they became worse as time went on. I
believe that they became worse, because none of the doctors or nurses ever protested.
He probably thought, that none of us cared or dared. Well, we all cared, but somehow
nobody did anything about it. Otherwise Dr. Veroe was a very liked person, he was
witty, had a good sense of humor, was handsome and charming, a good doctor and – a
"Jewish" anti-Semite. One day, it was in my sick ward, there was an old Jewish woman.
She only could speak only Yiddish and he ridiculed her and said something to the effect
that he could not understand her lousy Yiddish language. The poor woman was crying
after he left and told me: "For that I have left Nazi Germany, to get their Nazi slogans in
a Jewish immigrants hospital?" She was absolutely right and since no one would do
something about it, I decided to do something my self. It was a Monday after work I
went to the Jewish Committee and put in a complaint. I went to the top administrator
and he wrote everything down. I told him to ask the doctors and nurses, they would
affirm what I was talking about. I also told him that I could not see, why in a Jewish
hospital we should have a non Jewish, anti-Semitic doctor as chief over all, getting paid
with money collected by Jews for the survival of Jews, which were in here because of
anti-Semitism in the first place. I really aired my feelings that time. The administrator
thanked me for my concern and said that he would investigate and act accordingly. It
was acted upon very quickly. On Friday that same week Dr. Veroe left and did not come
again. The other doctors told me that the committee asked them if what I had
complained about was really the truth. But they also told me that there were other
people, patients who had complained before. I had tipped over the full bucket. I don't
remember any more who it was that took his place, because too many other things
started happening to me afterwards.
From my parents and sisters I received regularly mail. Rosa had given birth to an other
boy Isaac, on the 25th of May 1938, and in March 1940 she gave birth to her third son,
Natalio, Masal Tov. My parents wrote that they had applied for the llamada for us. Then
came January 1941 and finally we received the llamada. It was made out for me and
my little Mike. The letter my parents wrote with it said that the Argentine immigration
department had decided and made a law accordingly, that a llamada can only be made
for blood-relatives. I was one and Mike was one; but Hans was not a blood-relative.
Can you hear Hans? He was angry and felt insulted by my parents of course. They did
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not want him to get out of that hell in Shanghai. They were only thinking of me and
Mike. He did not even want to finish reading the letter. Papa wrote to me, that I should
go to the Consul and beg him to give me a visa for Hans too. After all, we are a family
and should stay together. After he had calmed down, I went to the Committee to ask
them for help. Maybe they had some influence at the consulate. Then I found out, that
there was no Argentine consulate in Shanghai, the closest one was in Kobe Japan. I
had to go to Kobe in order to get my visa. I stopped working at the hospital, as I had to
prepare myself to go to Japan, but that was easier said then done.
First of all to go to Japan and see the Argentine Consul, for that the committee would
not pay the expense. Now, where do I get the money from? I still had a golden bracelet
and a ring with a ruby Hans had given me in Spain. We had to sell them in order for me
to go to Japan. I also needed a passport and, there, Paul Komor came in very handy.
The Paul Komor Foundation, as I said before, was a highly respected organization and
at that time the Japanese accepted a Passport or an I.D. issued by them. Of course I
had to do a lot of running around to get all this things ready and by running around I
mean literary, really running around. I had no money for rickshaws to take me and there
were no busses from the Ping Liang Heim to Honkew or the International Settlement. It
did not go from one day to another. By end of February I had missed another period. If I
think about it now, I am wondering, did Hans at that time get me pregnant purposely?
He did not want me to go alone to Argentina and we were not sure, that the Consul in
Kobe would give me a visa for him. Anyway, it was just a thought that occurred to me
right now. No, I do not believe it, he would not have done that, first of all he loved us
and wanted us to be happy and second, it also was his ticket out of that forsaken place.
Anyway, again I had to have an abortion and of course there was no change in his
attitude, it was not his. I must say, it became harder and harder for me to go through
these abortions. I saw other women having their babies and I felt bad. Had I not gotten
the llamada at that time and the chance to leave Shanghai, I think at that time I would
have gone on with the pregnancy. But here we were, not many people had a chance to
escape from there and I would not spoil the one hope we had.
After all my running around, I got my Komor Stateless Passport and I went to the
Japanese consulate to get a visa to enter Japan. They made some difficulties for me,
like they said as a German, I should get a German Passport, As if they did not know
what was going on. If it would not have been for the Jewish Committee, (they had sent
an interpreter for me) speaking up for me, I doubt very much that I would have gotten
that visa. At the consulate I had to pay for the visa too, I had no money to take with me
to Japan. The committee gave me a letter to the committee in Kobe. In it they asked the
Kobe committee to assist me in everything. And so the day of my departure arrived. It
was I think the 28th of April 1941 when I embarked the Tatsuta Maru, a Japanese boat
for Kobe. For money I had with me 10 Shanghai dollars and 25 Argentinean pesos. The
pesos my parents had send to me, hoping that it would help me some. There was no
market for them in Shanghai, we could not exchange it for Chinese money nor anything
else. I took the pesos with me thinking, that maybe at the Argentinean consulate I could
change them . As it turned out I could not do that either.
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KOBE, JAPAN
Now I was on the boat to Japan. It was a very nice ship, the Tatsuta Maru was on her
way to San Francisco via Kobe and Yokohama. The trip to Kobe lasted 2 days and
nights. I shared a cabin with a Russian lady. She spoke also a little German and we got
along well. On the boat there were 2 breakfast times, the same for lunch and dinner
and that was because they served first Japanese food and then European food. The
food was very good, I even went some time to eat Japanese and it also was very good.
There were very few Jewish people on board. I befriended a lady Mrs. Meer and her
son, they were going on an affidavit to the United States. She was a lady in her forties
and her son was about 20 years old. Lots of businessmen with their wives were also
travelling to America. It was a very smooth journey, very pleasant. The stewards
handed us some questionnaires to fill out in order to land in Kobe. I had no idea what
was written in either Japanese or English. Japanese was out of the question and
English was not my strength. My roommate offered to help me to fill out the papers.
Every thing went fine until we came to the question, How much money do you have with
you? When I told her, she almost fainted. I told her that the committee will assist me
with every thing I needed. She was very nice and gave me two Japanese Yens, she
said that it would take me to the committee. I asked for her address since she lived in
Kobe and promised her to return it to her. She was very skeptical about that and wished
me luck. By the way, when I had finally landed in Kobe and was sort of settled, I went to
see her in her home later on and returned the two Yen back to her. She had a divine
home sitting in a beautiful garden, full of flowers. When I got there, nobody was there,
but all the doors were open nothing was locked. In Shanghai it would have been
emptied in a very short time. I waited in the garden for a very long time until she came
home. She had gone shopping she said to me and after I questioned her about the
open doors, she told me that in Japan they were not afraid of thieves as their hands
would be cut off when they were caught stealing. I wonder, if they still keep their doors
open when they go out in Japan?
On the second evening when we were getting closer to Kobe, the Japanese harbor
police came on a small boat and boarded our ship. They set up on top of the deck long
tables and chairs and at mid-night they started screening the passengers and checking
their documents. I was standing in line with all the others, having my papers ready for
inspection. Now came my turn. There were about 6 or 8 inspectors, the one taken care
of my papers was a little guy, not that the others were very big; he was especially short.
He looked at my questionnaire and looked again, then he looked at me and then he
started to laugh. He was laughing so hard that he had tears running down his cheeks, I
was afraid he would choke, he was very red in his face and started coughing. Then he
passed my papers to the other inspectors and all of them made up a laughing concert
and all that on my account. When they finally calmed down they took away all my
papers, passport, llamada and questionnaire and explained to me in some way or other,
that I would have to remain on the ship. The ship was staying 2 days in Kobe and that
they would send me with the next ship going back to Shanghai, which would be in 2
days. No begging and trying to explain that I had to go to see the Argentine Consul for
my visa did me any good. They explained to me, that without money I could not land in
Kobe. I was a prisoner on the boat and I was devastated. I was walking around like in a
haze, with tears running down my face. All our hopes were crushed if I could not get to
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the consulate. Where would we go, what would we do? We had waited for the llamada
for 2 years and had put all our hopes in it. I don't know how long I was walking around
like that, when Mrs. Meer ran into me and asked me what was wrong. She had not
been there when the laughter went on. She just came from the deck and it was in the
middle of the night. She and her son were allowed to get down in Kobe. I asked her to
go to the committee for me and tell them about my predicament. As I said before She
was a very nice and good natured lady, may G"d bless her and her family where ever
they are. She agreed to go to the committee for me. I wrote a note and gave her the
letter from the committee in Shanghai and in the morning it was a Friday they went with
a peddycab to the direction I had given her.
I can not explain what thoughts went through my mind during the whole day I was
waiting on board for their return. If the committee would not respond and help me, I
could do absolutely nothing. I had no passport, no identification at all, nothing. Even if
they would have left me the llamada and lets say I could escape from the ship, it would
not have done me any good and all that without a penny to my name. I really was in a
state of depression. It was already late in the evening and they had not returned. I
became even more desperate, if that was possible. Finally, it was almost mid-night they
came back and told me all that happened. They arrived to the direction I had given
them; but it was closed. They waited and waited and nobody came to open the doors.
They walked up and down the street and finally the saw a European face. They went
over to him and asked starting with German if he knew when the committee would open
its doors. Luckily he was a Jewish refugee from Poland, so they talked Yiddish with
each other. He said that since it is Erev (eve of) Shabbat they do not come in and he
did not know where any of the official people of the committee lived. But he said the
premises of the committee also serves as a Synagogue as well and in the afternoon
people will start coming in. So they walked around the neighborhood, went to eat
something always coming back to the place to see if someone had arrived. Finally late
in the afternoon some people arrived and told them that the secretary of the committee
always comes to the services. Sure enough he came and Mrs. Meer talked to him and
gave him the letter from the committee in Shanghai. He said he would give her a note
for me right after the services and told them for me not to worry, as they will pick me up
in the morning and settle the whole affair. I still have the note the secretary wrote to me.
After the services there was a Cabbalat Shabbat (Sabbath reception) and of course
they had to stay and tell about Shanghai and every thing they had gone through and
that was why it took them so long to return. Any way, I was very happy to see them safe
and sound. I am very thankful to them, I still am, I don't know what I would have done
without them. Thank you Mrs. and Mr. Meer, wherever you are. I wish I had your
address to write to you and thank you for what you did for my family and me.
Should I mention to you that I did not sleep a wink during the whole night? I did not, but
I was up with the birds standing at the railing waiting for someone I did not know and
had not spoken to; but I recognized them from far away and ran down to the entrance
of the ship to greet them. When I close my eyes, I can still see them in front of me. One
of them was wearing a sports-coat made of big loud plaid material. The other one was
dressed more conservatively, but both of them wore a hat. They came aboard and
stopped right in front of me. "Madam Rogozinska?" they asked me and when I said yes,
they fell over me with a Wortschwall, meaning everybody was bombarding me with
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questions: how a young girl like I was, dared to travel to a strange country without any
money? It was not difficult to explain. I just did not have any and I had to go to the
Argentine Consulate. Now we had to go to the Captain of the boat to find out where we
had to go to get my papers back and to get me of the ship. The Captain phoned the
immigration officials and told them that the committee was going to bail me out. The
officer of the immigration department said to the Captain to allow me to go with my two
"saviors" to their department and so we went.
It was a nice walk to their office; all in the harbor area. When we got in to the
immigration office, the first official we saw, was the one who attended me. He had a big
grin on his face and started laughing again as soon as he put his eyes on me. He called
the others in, and they repeated their laugh concert of the night before. Finally they
started talking to us. Then I found out that they thought that I was going to be a
prostitute in Kobe. They said that they had enough of them of their own and needed no
strangers in that field. Eventually they bailed me out for a fee of 50 Yen, a warranty that
I would not make a nuisance of myself.
We went back to get my luggage and to bring to the captain my release form and then
we took a taxi to the committee. I could not believe it, we actually took a taxi. There
were plenty of them at the port. The Sabbat morning service was over; the whole
congregation was in the patio waiting for me. Word had gotten around that a crazy
young women had come from Shanghai with not a penny to her own and that a
delegation of the committee had been sent to bail me out. Everybody wanted to see
that meschuggene (crazy) young woman. I was going to be 20 year old that month. At
first when they started to ask me questions, I answered in German. Then I heard some
of them saying: "Oy sie is a jeckete." (a Jewish pejorative meaning she is a German
Jew). Well then I turned around and spoke in my best Yiddish: "What do you mean I am
German? I am Jewish just like all of you." Then they all stood around me and I heard
some them mention like, she is one of us. They wanted to know every thing about me.
They were very curious about my personal situation; but most of all they wanted to
know about Shanghai. They told me that the Japanese authorities were talking about
sending all the refugees from Kobe to Shanghai and they wanted to know what to
expect there. Most of the refugees in Kobe were men, very few families made it out of
Poland and Russia. They all had traveled via Siberia under the worst circumstances. I
did not have time to talk with them any more, the secretary of the committee came
looking for me. He told me that because of my penniless position, he was compelled to
open the office on Shabbat in order to give me some money and to arrange for me as
to where I would stay. He gave me 28 Yen, to last me for two weeks food and
transportation. Then he send me with 3 men to take me to the house were they lived,
which was like something like the Heime we had in Shanghai, at least so I thought. We
had to take a streetcar to get to the home and that was something impressive. The
streetcar was so clean, one could have eaten from the floor. The seats were covered
with red velvet. I could not think it possible for a common streetcar to be so
extravagantly attractive. And the politeness of the passengers, I was not used to polite
Japanese from Shanghai. Japanese soldiers were not polite at all, they were rude. At
least that was my impression. When I wanted to pay my fare, my companions did not
let me pay, they took care of it. We arrived at a very nice neighborhood. It reminded me
of Den Haag in Holland, it was that clean and beautiful. And then we arrived at the
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home. It was a two story building and it looked from the front like a one or two family
home. Inside it looked different, each room had 8 mattresses, blankets, and pillows, all
piled up next to the walls. Those were the sleeping arrangements. The blankets were
actually silk comforters, gorgeous and so were the mattresses. The rooms were fairly
large; but there was no chair in it to sit down and there were no closet nor table. There
were some suitcases next to the mattresses and the people inside were sitting on their
beds. There were 3 rooms like that on the ground floor and the same on the second
floor. Each of the floors had one complete bathroom and one toilet only. The complete
bathroom was very nice, it had a bathtub, separate shower, wash basin and a toilet.
The toilet had only a wash basin in it. 24 people using 2 toilets. It was better then in
Shanghai, at least the toilets had a water flush. There was one little garden house in the
back yard and there lived the only woman with her husband and 3 children. She was
the only woman in the whole house. The secretary at the committee did believe that I
could bunk with them; but that was impossible. They were so cramped up in that little
one room house, that there was no room to let a pin drop on the floor, less put me up to
sleep there.
In the room of one of the men that took me there, was one man who was leaving for
San Francisco, on the same boat I had come in. He was boarding the ship that same
evening. I gave him the name of Mrs. Meer and send with him a note of thanks to them.
Now his bed became empty and they offered it to me. Here I was, surrounded by only
men and I should go and sleep with 7 men in one room? I was in a state of
hopelessness. I sat in the hallway on my suitcase and did not know what to do. Finally a
middle-aged man from the same room came out with a little folding chair and sat down
next to me. He looked a little like my father and he spoke slowly and very convincing to
me. He said in other words that if I would have to stay with one or even two men in one
room, he would not suggest to me to do it; but he said, to sleep in a room with seven
men, is not so bad. It would mean that I have seven watchmen in the room with me,
they will guard me even better then if I would be in a prison. He was very reassuring. He
told me that he had left his wife and a daughter about my age in Poland and that he
understood perfectly well my predicament. He also said that they have decided to give
me the place in the corner, so that I would have two sides covered and from their and
my suitcases, they would build a little wall in order to be protected from being seen
when we were all laying down. That was the way it was done, I decided to move in with
them. The truth is that I really had no other choice.
I must say, that I did not regret it, those men treated me with respect and cared for me.
When it came time to get our dinner, (they had a kitchen close by for all the refugees,
as there were more shelters like the one I moved into). They offered to bring me mine. I
wanted to pay my share, that was what they gave us the money for, but they would not
allow me to pay for it. The whole group paid for my share, they would not have it any
other way and that went on for the whole month I spent in Kobe. I got up every morning
very early in order to have the bathroom to my self. As the man who looked a little like
my father had assured me, there were no incidents of any kind during the nights. They
watched over me like a treasure. (I am sorry, but I forgot all the names of my room
mates and of any one in Kobe.)
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The next day was a Sunday, I could not go the consulate on that day, so they all took
me sightseeing. Kobe was at that time, and I am sure it still is, a charming, clean, and
multicolored city. The streets were full of people. Men and women in their colorful
kimonos, even the children were wearing kimonos and I could not understand how they
could all walk on their Japanese slippers with their snow-white sox with big toe sticking
out. The women with their sun umbrellas, the stores with their merchandise neatly put
outside the stores on tables and hanging on hangers overhead. There was so much to
see and all so unique. What a contrast to Honkew or to all of Shanghai! There were
trees and parks, and fountains in the parks, and there was greenery all over, and you
could see that every item was well taken care of. I loved to walk around and to see all
the brightness; because to me that was splendor, I had not seen such a beauty in
years. My roommates took me all over town, they were real gentlemen. This was really
the first time in my life that people were fussing over me and spoiling me. I was not
used to being treated that way, and I liked it.
The following morning Monday, four of my roommates went with me to the Argentine
Consulate. While I went up, they waited downstairs for me. I had a surprise waiting for
me: the Consul had left for Nagasaki. Nagasaki was a city not too far from Kobe. The
secretary of the Ambassador advised me to go to Nagasaki as the Ambassador was
doing something at the consulate over there and he, the secretary did not know when
the Ambassador would come back. Off to the committee we went, and they came
through right away. They purchased a ticket for me and even reserved a hotel room for
me. I left the following day very early, arrived in Nagasaki around 2:p.m. took a taxi to
the address given to me. Surprise! To make a long story short, the Ambassador had left
the day before; but they did not know if he had gone back to Kobe. Since there was no
train back on the same day, I stayed in the hotel over night. What a pleasure, I think I
lay in the bathtub for hours and the bed, since it was prepared for foreigners, was a real
soft bed with a mattress. No one can understand the feeling of lying in a good bed
unless they did not have one for years – and that's me. I took another bath in the
morning, as I knew, I would not get one in the near future. I had some time left before
leaving for Kobe, So I walked around in the center of the city. It was just as nice and
clean and colorful as Kobe. By the way, I did not tell about the trains: they were even
nicer then the streetcars. The people were so friendly, trying to talk to me with their
hands, facial expressions, and body language. There were not many strangers in town
or on the trains, I did not meet any on my round- trip from Kobe to Nagasaki and back.
Back in Kobe, it was late already so I had to take a peddicab to get to my abode. Every
body was surprised to see me back so soon; but I could not tell them anything new as I
had accomplished nothing. Back to the consulate the next morning; But the consul still
had not returned, they expected him the following week. So there was more time to
wait; but my dear roommates made my waiting period very pleasant, they did not let me
worry or get bored. We went to the movies and I saw The Merry Widow with Maurice
Chevalier and Jeannette McDonald actually in Kobe. What a movie! My roommates
even took me to the Joshiwara (the red light district) we would call it here. The
Joshiwara, I don't know if I am spelling it right, is a district of tea houses, pleasingly
decorated with colorful lanterns and balloons. One could see outside at the entrance on
the floor all the shoes and slippers of the guests inside, because in Japan as you know,
no one enters a home with shoes we could count how many guests were foreigners and
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how many Japanese. We had a lot of fun walking around there. We saw Geishas sitting
behind their windows with their beautiful hairdos all pinned up high. Dressed in their
kimonos with obi. They all looked like dolls.
When I was about a week in Kobe, one day I was walking down the stairs and a young
man, looking very familiar came up the stairs. We looked at each other, said hello, and
continued walking, he up and I down. We both turned around at the same time to get
another glimpse of each other. There was something about him. I knew that man but
did not remember were to place him. The same thing happened to him. I saw him
shaking his head and coming down again, I met him half ways and there we stood
facing each other. Then he asked me in German if I came from Dortmund and I said
yes. Then you are "Rosa Feuerstein" he said. So he recognized me as my sister Rosa.
He was Meier Seff. He had lived in the same house as my girlfriend did in Dortmund,
right above her and we all knew each other very well. Of course, he was a few years
older then I. His brother and I went to school together. We were very happy to see each
other and he gave me the news of the people and my girlfriend. So I heard from him
that Henni Tauber and two of her brothers had emigrated to the U.S. and he was
married to Frieda Laufer, a large family all living in the same house. The building they
all lived in belonged to the Laufers. Frieda stayed with her parents in Dortmund when
he had to run away. He had not had any contact with any of them since he had left, and
that was 6 months ago. Years later I learned that they were all sent to concentration
camps and killed by the Germans. The same things happened to the Kuenstlinger
family, they had run away to Paris. When the Germans entered Paris, Selma
Kuenstlinger a school friend of mine, living across the street from us in Dortmund,
disappeared one day never to be seen again. He told me stories that happened there
bordering on the impossible. I saw him again about 15 years later in New York at
Henny's house. That was when I learned the gruesome news about their families.
It took about two weeks until I finally got to see the Argentine Consulate. My appeal to
him to give me a visa for Hans too, fell into the water. He explained to me that he did
not have any power to give me a visa for Hans. He told me to get my and Mike's visa
and he would make an application to the Argentine immigration department for a visa
for Hans, I had to sign the application. On the other hand he advised me to take Mike
and leave as soon as possible and not to wait for approval from Argentina. He also said
to me, that if I go with Mike alone, I would be able to bring Hans over in no time at all. It
took a few days before I was through with the consulate and got my visa and then I had
10 more days until my departure back to Shanghai.
I was contacted by the travel company, that I needed some kind of an vaccination for
my return trip to Shanghai, I don't remember what kind it was, but I was sent to a
Japanese doctor to get it. This was an experience by it self, for me any way. I had never
been in a Japanese home before or since. After I rang the bell the door was opened by
a lady, I don't know if she was the lady of the house or a maid. Before she let me in,
she motioned to me to take off my shoes and leave them outside. I got into a bright,
lovely sitting room with colorful silk pillows all over the floor and little low tables all
around. The floors were shining like a mirror. I don't remember all the details of the
decoration in that room, but I was very impressed. You must understand that at that
time there were a lot of things that impressed me. Because, since we ran away from
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Germany, I had not been living a regular life, always on the run, not a real home or any
thing to call my own. No wonder, when I saw people living a normal life in normal
surroundings it was something special to me. But in Japan, it was different, there also
was a separate culture. I understood that the doctor was still busy and so she started
serving me some tea in their tiny porcelain cups and some sort of tiny cookies. We
could not have any conversation going, but we giggled and laughed. Finally the doctor
called me in, we conversed in French as he had studied there. Going out, we bowed
over and over again. It was a nice experience for me. I had another one coming and
this one was prepared by my roommates.
It was very warm in Kobe, and not being able to take a bath when there was a bathtub
in the bathroom, was not very pleasant. It was not possible to tie up a bathroom by
taking a bath, when there were so many people to one bathroom. We were discussing it
and my roommates told me of a public bathhouse not far from were we were. Of
course, I wanted to go there. So they took me there. They did not come in with me, they
told me how much I had to pay and that the attendant lady would tell me what to do. I
did as I was told. The lady attendant took my money, selected some towels which were
piled up behind her, and guided me first to a dressing room to change and then to a big
hall of basins filled with water. The water was very inviting. There was even a large
swimming pool there. She handed me some soap and motioned to me to wash up in
the first basin, to rinse in the second basin and then to go into the pool. I was all alone
in the bathing-hall, my roommates had told me that other women would be in there. It
was a pleasure to wash myself in those tubs. As I went to into the pool, some Japanese
ladies came in with their children and then to my horror, men, their husbands joined in
too. I stopped swimming around and hid at the edge of the pool. I tried to figure out
how, to get to my towels first and then to the dressing room, without exposing myself
too much. While I was thinking, the pool filled up with more and more men and women,
all of us stark naked. I don't remember how I got out of that predicament, but I finally
did. I was very angry at my roommates, for not telling me that this would happen. They
had a good answer, they said: "We were not all that bad, think about it. We could have
come in and joined you." They were right, it would have been much more embarrassing.
We had a big laugh and made peace. So this was my experience with nudity.
On the 21st of May was my twentieth birthday and for that day my roommates had
planed something special. We were going to the Gora Marsun (I don't know if the name
is spelled right) which is a mountain filled with temples. This was a marvelous
excursion. We ascended slowly and all over there were small temples with Buddha
statues and lots of Japanese kneeling and praying. They also brought some offerings to
the Buddha; but for the life of me I can not remember what it was. The scenery was
breathtaking, the greenery, the flowers with their sweet aromas mixed with the incense
the worshipers lit in front of the Buddha statues, made me feel like being in a dream. I
have a picture we took up there and now I see, that I have the names of 6 of my
roommates, they had signed them on the back of the picture. On top of the mountain,
was the largest temple with the largest Buddha. I liked to watch the little children in their
fabulous garments, praying, bowing and leaving with their backs to the entrance and
bending over in devotion. There were a lot of worshipers sitting with their legs in a lotus
position, meditating. It was the highlight of my stay in Japan. When I left Kobe, I had
almost all the money I had received from the committee, plus lots of gifts for my little
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Mike. I am forever thankful to these roommates of mine and the care and respect they
showed me. Later on, when they had to leave Kobe to go to Shanghai, they all came to
see us and I was very happy to see them. I left Kobe with the Kamakura Maru, a sister
ship of the Tatsuta Maru. They were all at the pier when I left, it was very moving.
Thank you all wherever you are.
Back to Shanghai.
The Kamakura Maru was filled to the brim. Many of the business people were coming
from the U.S. There were no immigrants. Who would want to come and live in China. It
was a very pleasant trip and no difficulties landing there. Hans came to pick me up and
we went back to the Pingliang Heim. Now I had to start working on the Committee to
pay for my trip to go to Argentina – that really was easier said then done. At the
Committee I was told that they could not pay for my trip, their money was only allocated
to feed the refugees, so they would survive for whatever was to come after. They send
me to the HICEEM, which was located in the International Settlement, if I remember it
right, it was on Nanking Road. A Mr. Bermann attended me. He was very nice and while
I was there he called Cooks Travel Service, to find out how much the trip for me and my
child would cost. It was to cost U.S. $55.00 for me and nothing for Mike, because he
was under three years old. Mr. Berman told me that he had to clear this amount to be
paid for me with the central office of the HICEEM in Lisbon, Portugal. We would have to
wait for their approval. I wrote all these things to my parents and sisters in Argentina
and told them, that we will just have to wait a little longer. The month of June 1941 was
passing slowly, when almost at the end of the month, I was called to the office of the
Heim, Mr. Berman was on the phone. He said he had received a telegram from the
Buenos Aires HICEEM, stating that: "get Mrs. Rogozinski out of Shanghai as soon as
possible, letter will follow." He did not know what to make of it; but did not want to make
a mistake of keeping me in Shanghai, not knowing the reason for that telegram. Now
here is what he did and said." I can only allow you, without the consent of the central
office $25.00 toward your passage. The rest you will have to pay for your self." Since I
did not have any money, he suggested for me to go to the wealthy Jews in Shanghai
and try to get them to pledge the remaining $30.00 toward my passage. Since I did not
know any wealthy Jews anywhere, he made out a list of about 25 families and gave it to
me. I told him, that I did not know how to go about it and that I did not even speak the
language. Well guess what, he called in a young man from his office and told him to go
with me and translate for me. And so it was done.
Shanghai has a sub-tropical climate and in June the worst heat in the whole year. I
walked because I had no money for any fare available. From the Pingliang Heim all the
way to the International Settlement. The elite of our Jews lived either there or in the
French Town. Even though I was young, when I got into town, I was exhausted. It took
me about an hour to get there. There I picked up the young man and we went
schnorren, (begging). That was what it was. When I think about it now, I really don't
know how I did it. It was so humiliating. To go to a Committee that was created by Jews
to help those in trouble, like we were, is one thing; but to go begging from one door to
another, is something completely different. In two weeks we had depleted al the names
and my feet were full of blisters. Like everything else, I did not have the right shoes to
wear for so much running around. All we had accomplished were the total pledges of
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$24.00: thirty-one dollars to go. Somebody in the Heim asked me, I don't remember
who, why I had not gone to the office of Paul Komor? I decided then and there to go to
see him.
In the mean time the letter from the HICEEM in Buenos Aires had arrived to Mr.
Berman and I too had gotten a letter from my parents. My parents wrote, that they
heard from someone at the immigration department in Buenos Aires that the visa for
Hans was denied and that my visa was also cancelled. The reason given was: that a
family had to stay together. Since they could not give Hans a visa, they cancelled mine
too. The letter telling the Consulate in Kobe about the cancellation was going to be sent
out by regular mail. The same thing was written to Mr. Berman emphasizing the
necessity to get us out of there the sooner the better. Otherwise we might loose all
chances to ever go to Argentina. Still even with all that, I was sent to go on begging.
With every day my walking became slower and slower, my feet were swollen and some
of the blisters had become infected. I really was hurting all over. It was at that time
when I went to see Paul Komor.
His office was also on Nanking Road right next to the Cathey Hotel. When I came in,
his secretary received me. I told her that I wanted to talk to Mr. Komor. Well he was not
in and would only be coming in on the afternoon. At that time my nerves left me, I
collapsed in my chair and cried my heart out. The whole thing was just too much for me.
His secretary, I think her name was Anna, came around her desk and put her arms
around me, trying to calm me down. She called in a servant and asked him to bring
something cold to drink for me and I finally calmed down. Then she asked me to tell her
what was bothering me and why I came to see Mr. Komor. I told her the whole story
with tears running down my cheeks. She too was a refugee from Austria and she told
me how lucky she was to be employed by Mr. Komor. She kept telling me, "you poor
child, all the things you had to do just to get together $24.00. Why didn't you come here
sooner?" She told me not to worry Mr. Komor will help you. She had the boy servant
bring a lounge chair into the waiting room, for me to lay down, so I would be
comfortable waiting for Mr. Komor to come. She also sent the boy to get some lunch for
me, she was an absolutely splendid human being. After having eaten my lunch I fell
asleep. I can not tell you how good it felt to be taken care of. I did not wake up when
Mr. Komor arrived and they did not awaken me; but Anna told him every thing.
When I woke up, Anna took me to his office. He told me that Anna had briefed him
about my situation, and was upset that I had not come to him sooner. Then he picked
up the phone and called Mr. Berman and bawled him out in a manner, I could not
believe. He told him that in a case like mine, he should first have contacted him, before
he sent me out begging. Then he told him, that he would pay the rest of the money and
whatever extra costs would come up. Then he called Cooks Travel Agency and asked
for information to find out when and with what boat I could travel with my child as soon
as possible to Buenos Aires. He made the reservation. I think that the date at that time
was either end of June or beginning of July. He told me that I should not worry, that he
would take care of everything and that I should prepare myself to leave with my little
boy on the 18th of July. Then he said that I would have to go to Cooks Agency the
following day with all my papers, passport and visa. After I would be through with
Cooks, I should bring him my passport and he would get for me my exit visa.
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And that was the way it was done. This man Paul Komor was a man with a heart of
gold. I was crying when I left him. He did not allow me to walk home, he send Anna
down to get me his rickshaw with the coolie he was using and send me home with it. In
about a week's time, everything was ready and packed and we were waiting to depart. I
forgot the name of the boat we were supposed to travel with, It was a Japanese ship
going via Yokohama, Hawaii, San Francisco, through the Panama Canal to the Atlantic
Ocean, Rio de Janeiro, Montevideo and finally Buenos Aires.
On July 16th I was called by the Travel agency. They told me , that due to a conflict
going on between Japan and the United States, America does not allow Japanese
boats to travel through the Panama Canal; but there was a boat going via Cape town to
Buenos Aires on the 21st. 3 days later, only it would cost $30.00 more. I called Mr.
Komor and he said right away, that he would take care of it. He called me back to tell
me to take the ticket I had, back to the Agency in order to get my new ticket. I went
down and changed it. Then I went up to Mr. Komor to thank him again for his generous
help. I was now on pins and needles, thinking, what's next? I did not have to wait very
long. On July 18th. I was called again by the Cooks Agency to tell me that again my
reservation was cancelled, because South Africa was a Colony of England and England
followed suit after America and did not allow any Japanese ships to land in Cape Town.
They told me that there was only one more chance to leave. Since Japanese ships still
landed in San Francisco and also American ships were travelling from Shanghai to San
Francisco, I would have to get an American transit visa and continue from San
Francisco with another American ship to Buenos Aires. I went with a translator George
Maerz, a good friend of ours, also living in the Heim to the American Consulate. They
looked at my papers, Saw that my llamada was valid until January 1942 and they told
me, that I had time to leave in December and until then the conflict would be settled: No
transit visa. Even Mr. Komor tried to speak up for me, to no effect. All my running
around, my begging to get paid for my ticket, in the end, the outstanding help I got from
Mr. Komor, resulted to nothing. I was doomed. I was stranded in Shanghai, just like
everyone else. With no hopes of ever getting to Argentina to join my parents and
sisters. If it would not have been for my lovely child, I really don't know what I would
have done. I was desperate.
Very quickly everything I had packed, was unpacked again and life became sort of
normal again. I did not go back to work at the hospital. I wanted to stay with my little
boy. I think it was in August or September that our Ping Liang Heim had to be closed.
We had to be moved to a new Heim on East Seward Road, the Seward Heim. We were
lucky, we got a little room 2 ½ x 3. meters. It was a real room, not a box, and we were
right in the center of Honkew. Rega and Ernst had to share a larger room with another
couple one lane away of us.
The Seward Heim was a regular street complex, divided into lanes with one-story
houses. The only difference between other complexes and ours was that ours was
fenced all around. There was only one entrance at the front and we had our own people
watching who gets in. If I remember it right, the Heim address was 981 East Seward
Road and our room was #26. There were 5 more rooms along our lane and we had all
new neighbors. Across of our 5 rooms was the canteen. There were new people to be
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met. Our next door neighbor to the right, we called her mother Arvin because she was a
very motherly person, lived there with her husband and daughter. We became good
friends, his name was Natalio and she called him Natzerl, they came from Vienna. They
also had a son Leo, he lived in one of the bachelor rooms, he was at that time already
20 years old. She cooked outside on Chinese cookers meals for some of the bachelors
and this way she made a few Shanghai Dollars. I started out sewing again, repairing
clothing for whatever I could get, which was not much, but kept me busy and I made a
few Dollar. Our neighbors to our left, kept changing. People were moving in and out so I
forgot a lot of names. At the beginning we had to get our food at the Ward Road Heim
kitchen. There was no kitchen in our camp. We got food tickets and had to stand in long
lines for the food to be taken out. Shortly after we had moved into the new Heim, they
started building a large new kitchen in our Heim which fed about 4000 people. Soon life
became sort of normal again and we lived from day to day. The news from the war in
Europe became grave. That made our situation even worse, what would our future be?
In September I received a letter from the Argentine Consulate telling me that Hans visa
was denied and since we were a family, we should stay together. Therefore the
immigration department in Argentina decided to void the llamada sent to me. The
consul asked me to send back the llamada to the Argentine consulate in Kobe: End of
our dream! Needless to say that I did not send the llamada back to the Consulate. I
decided to keep it, on the chance that maybe, maybe it could be of some use in the
future. As it turned out, it did!
There was much more socializing at the Seward Heim. There were a lot of writers and
actors in Honkew and they started some musicals and other shows, to be played either
at our or other Heime. Most of the time the plays were done in our Heim, since ours
was the largest of all. The playrights and directors were always looking for people with
some sort of talent and I like to sing, was pretty good at it, and was drafted. They found
out that I could sing in the evenings, when we got together outside of our rooms and
sang. Some of the bachelors had saved their guitars and brought them out of Germany
and we all were singing together in company. Those evenings were precious. I learned
new songs; I loved the songs of Vienna. I also had a very large repertoire of Yiddish
songs, which I had learned from my father and Mutti. Every body loved the songs. We
had to do something to bring our spirit up; this was an absolute necessity. The war in
Europe was driving us to desperation, letters from Europe became essentially nil, and
people were loosing their mind. Everybody was worried about the family left behind and
of what was going to happen to all of us. Anyway, we tried to make the best of it and we
lived one day at a time.
There were all sorts of people in our Heim, people I did not know existed in our
community. My father had always told me, that there are no ganoven (thieves), no
gangsters and no bad "Jewish" people in general. He had always told me that Jewish
people were all educated and did not do any harm to any other people. I remember that
he told me that when we were still in Germany. On Shabbat mornings we always
discussed Jewish life and Judaism in general. I remember how much I loved those
Shabbat mornings, when we were allowed to get into our parents beds. That's also
where I learned most of the Yiddish songs I know, from my parents. Of course all that
was before we left Germany and I was only 12 years old at that time. I often wondered,
if my father really believed what he had told me about Jewish people. I sure learned
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that we were really not any different from other people. We had everything, good and
bad, educated and not educated at all, aristocrats and the lowest of the low. We had
homosexuals and lesbians (This was something I first heard of and observed in
Shanghai). As you can see, all was represented in our Heime. I have seen and met
them all. In particular I remember three brothers, very handsome, very clean, tall and
charming. All three of them were homosexuals. At first, I did not know about their
inclinations, as I had no idea that that homosexuality existed. I liked them very much,
they were always courteous, friendly, always trying to be helpful and just delightful
young men. After I found out of their sexual preference, it did not make one iota of
difference to me, I really liked them, they were very intellectual, educated men and it
was a pleasure having conversations with them. I mostly had conversations with the
oldest of them. He told me that they had lost their parents when they were very young
and were brought up by two older spinster aunts. They were brought up in the strictest
ways. If I remember it right, he told me that they had a private teacher and they were
not allowed to play or to mingle with other children. He told me that he believed that
they, the three of them, turned out the way they were, because of their upbringing. Very
often he helped me to hang up the laundry after I was washing and I remember people
laughing at me because of our friendship. I have to tell one story he told me that
happened to him after the war was over. When we were free to go wherever we wanted
to. He came one day and told me: "I was on the Bund (the Bund is the street that runs
all the length of the river, from the Garden Bridge passing the International settlement
and French Concession) and it was full of sailors. I spotted one sailor I liked, he was
alone and I followed him. He went to the Cathey Hotel, but before he entered he turned
around asking me why I was following him. When I told him why, he punched me in the
nose and told me to beat it." I did not use exactly the same words he used, as they
were in German, but he showed me his swollen nose. I had a big laugh and he joined in
with me. I tell you this to show you that we had a real nice friendship going. I could tell
more stories from others, having the same preference as these 3 brothers.
Since I was sewing for our people in the Heim, I also got some customers on the
outside. As you can see, I expanded my business. Between others there was a lady
who had three children. They were British subjects and she brought me a lot of work. I
was very happy, because we needed the money badly. She came to pick up the
clothing with a chauffeur driven car. It was the 24th of October 1941 and said that she
had not enough cash with her and she gave me a check. I did not have any experience
with checks, but I took the check in payment for the work I had done for her. To make a
long story short, she stopped payment on that check. The amount of the check was
24.60 Shanghai dollars. Her name is AGNES BLAIR. She said that I had over charged
her. I went to the British Consulate to complain. She finally consented to pay me with
the condition that I had to pick up the money at her house. I went 3 or 4 times to her
villa and she was never home. For over a month she gave me the run around. I could
think of only one reason for what she: she must have been one hell of an anti-Semite to
come to the camp were we lived in squalor and then do that to me. I guess she got her
satisfaction out of it. The fifth time I went to her, a few days after Pearl Harbor, she was
not there any more: her villa was occupied by the Japanese military. The Japanese
interned the family as enemies. I still have the cancelled check of hers and I wish I
could find her, to spit in her face.
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CHINA. PART 3.
And then came December 7, 1941, Pearl Harbor, Japanese bombers attacked the
American bases and fleet. In less then 2 hours the Japanese destroyed the heart of the
American Pacific fleet. 2,086 naval officers and men were killed. The army lost 237
men. On December 8 the United States declared war against Japan. 3 days later,
Germany and Italy declared war against the United States. World War 2 had began.
It became turbulent in Shanghai, the Japanese now took over the International
Settlement, French Town and all of Shanghai, they were rounding up Americans,
British and French nationals and sent them to Japanese internment camps. Lots of
fighting went on in the settlements, none of the residents would give up easy; but we, in
Honkew, did not feel much about it. There were no other foreigners living in Honkew as
us poor schnooks, the refugees from nazi occupied Europe. The White Russians living
in the settlements were not affected by it, the Japanese left them alone. All we felt was
that the Japanese soldiers became even more rough with us and with the Chinese
population, if that was possible, they were really mean to all of us.
Now the situation became even worse for us. Up to that time there was a connection
between the U.S. and Shanghai: money was send to us from there for our support. The
Heime, hospitals, and almost all the refugees depended on help from America. People
who had affidavits and visas and intended to emigrate to America with their ready
affidavits and visas could no longer leave. It was a disaster. Since money could not
come in for the support of the refugees, there was less food distributed and there were
more refugees who were living outside the Heime, coming to get their food from the
Heim kitchens. By mid 1942, money was running out, our 3 meals per day were cut
down to 1 a day. We received one loaf of bread per person and a plate of some mixture
of beans, vegetables and some times some meat in it. The bread that used to be very
good before became more and more "wooden." I think that there was more sawdust in
it than flour. It was not enough to live on and not enough bad enough to die from. Soap
to wash our selves and to wash the laundry, was never very good there; but what we
could get now was more sawdust than soap. Then the electricity was cut off and
candles were very expensive, so for light we used oil with a wick. Then the water was
cut off too. We got water in the morning for one hour, at noon two hours and in the
evenings one hour. The water was distributed through 26 faucets including the ones in
the toilets: I counted them for 1000 men and women. Many more men than women
lived in our Heim. At lunch time the population increased to 4000. Imagine what it did to
the cleanliness of our population.
Some arrangements were made between the Japanese authorities and our committee
to seek help for us. I don't know what was done; but in time the Red Cross sent
provisions for us to be able to survive. Almost all of the bachelors were infected with
lice, they were deloused once every week. Then they were given some sort of shorts
and tops made out of the Red Cross sacks in which our provisions were sent to us. The
Heim was full of people with this kind of outfit. Red Cross uniforms we called them. Lice
brings typhoid fever and also other diseases. I, like others, was saving rainwater in a
baby bathtub – that bath-tub and the baby crib we brought from France. We used the
rainwater first to bathe my Bubi, then we washed ourselves with it, and then I used it to
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wash our laundry. It was not easy. But then who promised us an easy life? We just had
to make it work and we did. When my little Mike came in from playing, I undressed him
right away and checked for lice. When Hans came in from the canteen, he took every
thing off outside our room, but his pants and checked for lice, his pants we checked
inside the room. We managed not to get infested. Thinking back, I don't believe it
myself, all the things we did to try to live clean. My fingers were all injured from rubbing
on the wash-board to get things clean with the rotten soap, little water and thank G"d at
least we had that. There was one thing we could not get rid off and that was bed bugs.
At the Pingliang Heim we were not bothered with them, as the buildings there were
build with aerocrate stones; but at the Seward Heim, the houses were build with wood
and mortar and I don't know what else. The bedbugs were in the walls. Our beds were
made of hollow iron and the bugs hid in them. We took the beds apart and ran boiling
water through them. It would help maybe for a few nights and then they were infested
again. (By the way, we bought hot, boiling water from a Chinese water vendor. We had
one next to the Heim, they had their business all over Honkew. Boiling water was sold
over there, like they sell hot dogs or ice cream here. The whole business consisted of a
little hut with a very large pot, as large as a bathtub, or even larger, with a live fire under
it, the water was always boiling and we used it for tea, and for every thing.) At that time
we did not have DDT over there although the Japanese had something similar to DDT;
but only after the war was over could we get a hold of it. I am glad to say that our baby
was not plagued with the bed bugs. His bed was made out of solid iron bars, about 1/2
inch thick and very easy to keep clean. It was big enough for a child of 5 years to sleep
in, and that also was the reason we brought it with us from France.
During the summer we were also plagued with Mosquitoes. There were some of them
that when they bit you, you could get malaria, yellow fever, and dengue fever. There
were so many things and diseases one could get there – and lots of people did. There
also were a lot of cases of Cholera in our camps and most of those who got it died at
the cities Isolation Hospital. I remember Hans came down with a terrible diarrhea. I
called the d octor and he was afraid that Hans had also had cholera, since there had
been several cases in the Heim. He wanted to send him to the isolation hospital. He
said that they could not take any chances by taking him to the Immigrants Hospital on
Ward Road. I begged him not to send him there; I was afraid he would not come back
alive. I asked him to wait for one day more and he agreed to that. Then I went to Dr.
Altman and told him about it and about my fears. I was lucky, he took him into the
Immigrants Hospital in a small separate room and luckily Hans did not have Cholera;
but a very bad diarrhea, but he did have to stay in the hospital for about a week. Had he
gone to the isolation hospital, he might have contacted the Cholera over there and not
come out. It paid to have friends.
News of the war that made it to us were not too good. We were forbidden to listen to
the radio from foreign countries. We had a large radio in the canteen and late at night
we listened to B.B.C. We had guards all over to make sure that we were not surprised
by Japanese soldiers. But the news were not good at all. Germany had invaded Russia
too and were besieging Leningrad. We could only imagine what our people were going
through when the Germans came in: more and more terror! The Germans were
everywere. They were in Africa, in Syria, in Norway and Denmark. London was
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bombarded constantly with German missiles. What a bleak future, not only for us but
for the whole world.
In September 1942 I was pregnant again. It was bad timing. This time I was sent from
the committee to another doctor on Bubbling Well Road, a Dr. Litten. He was a very
nice doctor. There were 3 or 4 women pregnant in our Heim at the same time, including
Rega and they all went to Dr. Litten. Rega was already in her seventh month when I
started. Of course Hans was innocent, he had nothing to do with it, as always. Our
maternity doctor Dr. Zelnik, was very ill at that time, he was dying and there were no
Gynecologists in Honkew. Again I wanted to have an abortion; but felt terribly bad about
it. The situation at this time was even worse than it had been before – when I did have
the other abortions. Dr. Litten tried to convince me to have the child. He told me that
every child carries his loaf of bread under his own arm; but I decided to go through with
it. One day before I had to go to the hospital I collapsed. I started crying for my baby
that I would again loose. I felt bitter and sorry for myself, for the situation we lived in and
for our whole life, which was not worth living. It had no quality, no future and just
nothing. I felt like killing myself. I was desperate. Instead I cancelled the abortion and
kept my child. That was how my darling Leon came into being. Thank G"d I kept him.
At about that time Hans decided he would go into business with another man as an
associate. I don't remember who that man was, but of all things they went into the
butcher business. They opened a little store in the French town on Rue Eduard Seven
and started selling meat. I knew that Hans did not know anything about meat, only how
to eat it. But I suppose the other guy knew what he was doing. I only could not figure
out where Hans got the money from to put into the business. He told me, that he did not
need any, the other man had the money. I could not understand why did the man
needed a partner that did not have money or knowledge of that kind of business. I
guess he must have liked Hans or Hans still had some assets I did not know about. I
also had to go out there and deliver the meat to some customers. One day when I was
going out of the store I literally bumped into a tall lady. As I tried to excuse my self I
looked at her and what do you know, it was Mary Backman. We recognized each other
at the same moment. We were so happy to have run into each other. She was an
attractive young lady, very well dressed. She looked like one of the very wealthy people
of Shanghai. After our first surprise and hugging and kissing, she took me to a cafe
were we sat down and started telling each other of our lives. She told me that after they
left Spain, they had gone to France, then to Italy and then, since they could not go any
place else, they landed in Shanghai. She had met a nice wealthy older Jewish man and
lived with him and his two sons in his villa. His sons were both older then she was. She
seemed to be happy and it looked that she had outgrown her sickness. Her parents did
not live very far from her, they all lived in the French Town. I remember now that I was
pregnant with my Leon at the time I bumped into Mary Backman. But to that I will get
later on.
As I had said before, our rations had been cut to a minimum. It became worse. Now
everybody only received a loaf of bread a day – this bread was made largely with
sawdust and measured roughly 3"x4"x18." The Russian Jews were drafted for support,
I don't really know how all that worked. Later we also received a bowl of bean soup for
children, pregnant women, and women nursing babies. Little Mike and I qualified for it.
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There was no more fresh milk available and in our kitchen there was Soya-milk
prepared for the children and us. Bill Wolf was the one man who learned how to make
that milk. It was not as tasty as fresh milk, but it was very nourishing. We had made
very good friends at the Seward Heim, we had our own little circle. There was Georg
Maerz, Franz Fischer, Viktor Stummer (Kiki), and David Weintraub (Edi). There also
were others; but this little group was particularly close knit: one for all and all for one. So
when I got the bean-soup for Mike and my-self I stretched the soup, mixed it with what
ever was available and we all ate. And the same thing went also the other way around.
When any of the group had something to eat, it was divided between all of us. We were
really good friends and this friendship helped all of us to overcome those bad years.
In December 1942, we heard rumors that the Jewish refugees would also be sent to
concentration camps, or interned like the all the others. As it turned out the Japanese
ruled that all refugees living outside of Honkew, who had come to Shanghai after 1937,
would have to move to the Honkew district assigned for us. The district included all of
our camps, hospital and the "Kadoorie School." It was to be like a Ghetto and it would
go into effect by May 1943. That of course took care of the not so lucrative butcher
business started by Hans and his partner. They closed up even before the law went into
effect. The winter was cold and the food very scarce. We were very hungry. Mary
Backman, my old friend came over sometimes and brought some groceries out of her
boy-friends house. He was a White Russian Jew and was not affected by internment
orders or by the decree to move to Honkew. She told me some stories – I can not
repeat them here. She wanted me to come to her, his house to see how they lived. But
I was pregnant and showing it; and it was very difficult for me to go so far even with a
rickshaw – she wanted to pay for the ride. I never got to meet her boyfriend or his sons.
He also fixed it for her parents and her to remain in the settlement. Every time she
came was like a holiday. For days afterwards we all had something to eat.
When I was pregnant for seven months, I became very weak. I really did not know,
what was happening to me. I would be walking in the Heim and suddenly I woke up
when people were picking me up from the floor. I did not feel that I was falling. Since it
happened quite often, I decided to go and see Dr. Litten. He had moved, in the mean
time into, our Ghetto. Dr. Litten ordered blood tests and it turned out that I was very
anemic. He ordered for me to get Liverin shots twice a day. He was afraid that I would
not survive giving birth. I went to our Immigrants' pharmacy; but there was no Liverin
available. Again Dr. Altman came to my help. He had a patient from the Settlement in
the hospital and she had Liverin shots; but they were no as important for her as they
were a matter of life or death for me. Any way I was given Liverin shots two times a day
and the doctors hoped that I would make it. At that time I was already in my eighths
month pregnancy and Hans really was afraid for my life. So one day he told me that he
was a shoemaker, and a very good one too, and that he would find himself a job
repairing shoes. By that time we were already married for over 5 years and I had not
known any thing about that. Now, when he told me, I did not believe him; I could not
believe him. We went through misery all these years in Shanghai and shoemakers
made good money there, because everybody needs shoes and they had them repaired
over and over again. Nobody could afford new shoes. Now, how could I believe him?
He had me going to work for nothing. I was sitting by the machine sewing for pennies.
We did not have any food to eat and here he was, having with a good profession, in his
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hands, and going to learn electrical repairs, or opening a butcher store, areas he did not
know anything about, now how could I believe him? I did not and the following day he
left early and, when he came back it was already evening, he said that he had worked
at Levie's shoestore and had made a pair of new shoes. He showed me his hands and
there were blisters on them and a 20 Shanghai dollar note, his earnings for the day, he
said. I told him that he could have earned the 20 bucks shoveling dirt and by doing that,
he could have gotten the blisters on his hands. The next day he went also early in the
morning and this time when he came back, he brought a pair of shoes still on the mold,
to show me that he had made them and again 20 bucks for his salary. I still did not
believe him. So the following day I went to Levie's shoestore to convince my self that he
really worked there. He did and I told him then, that I would never forget it and I will
never forgive him, for keeping it a secret through the worst time in our life, when we
could have been living a better life, not affluent; but at least not as beggars. Hans kept
on working for Levie's, and we had from then on more food and other things too.
In the mean time Dr. Zelnik passed on and the Maternity lost the best doctor. Then,
after a short time, the head nurse of the maternity ward, Frieda Raphael, was fired,
because she had a big mouth. Dr. Zelnik knew what he had in her: she was not only a
very good nurse, but she also was the best midwife any maternity could have asked for.
But the new assigned doctor to the maternity ward, would not let a nurse tell him what
to do and what not to do. They changed doctors there, I think, about 3 times in the short
time until I was due to deliver my baby. When my time came a Dr. Friedman was in
charge. That time came during the worst timing. At that time, people in hospitals or
maternity wards did not get any meals. It was the time between not getting anything
from the Red Cross and the beginning getting soup and bread from the Russian Jewish
population. Rega's baby, a girl named of Susy, was born in December 1942. Rega was
lucky, she still had at least the care of a nurse; but Rega did not get any food served
there either: By that time the food shortage had really begun. We did not even get the
soups any more. All we got was one loaf of bread per person and soya milk for the
children and for breast-feeding mothers. From December 1942 to July 1943 was the
worst of times in Shanghai.
Dr. Litten was still very worried about my giving birth because even with all the shots I
got I was by no means over my anemia. Since he was not a doctor employed by the
committee, he would not be able to help me officially through giving birth. He told me
that in case there were any difficulties to tell the doctor attending me to call him. During
the night of June 25 my water bag burst. Suddenly I was laying in water. Hans went out
to get a rickshaw and took me to the maternity. There was a night nurse that I did not
know. She woke Dr. Friedman and he looked me over and said, that I should come
back when I got labor-pains. We went home and I lost more and more water; but I did
not get any labor-pains. During the whole day and night I was loosing more and more
water and some blood, no pain. During the whole day of June 26 I was waiting for my
pain to come, nothing. My belly had become half the size and I was very worried. At
about 10:p.m. I decided that I could not wait any longer and we went again to the
maternity. Dr. Friedman wanted to send me home again; but I insisted that I should get
some help. He was a nice man, but he did not know what to do in my case. I asked him
to please call Dr. Litten, but he did not want to do it. After I cried and begged him to call
he finally did. Dr. Litten told him to give me every two hours 2 quinine tablets orally and
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also every hour to the hour a quinine shot and he would call and find out if my
contractions had started and then he would come over to help. I was started
momentarily on the quinine and within an hour labor-pain started. At about 4:30a.m.,
the 27th of June, I gave birth to my lovely son, Leon. Right after I had given birth, Dr.
Litten showed up. I wished he would have looked me over, but Dr. Friedman told him
that I was all right, so he did not.
After giving birth, I still had to continue to get the Liverin shots. I was very weak and I
had lost a lot of blood. I had to stay longer at the Maternity and the Brith Milah
(circumcision) of my new baby was done in the hospital. Leon's weight was 5 ¾ pound,
and, thank G"d, he was a healthy baby. I breast fed him and I had lots of milk for him. I
was and I am very happy that I changed my mind about the abortion and Dr. Litten was
right, every child carries his loaf of bread under his arm. I was crazy about my two
children and to tell you the truth, I still am. I got stronger by the day and finally they
could stop giving me the shots.
On May 18 we were literally locked in a ghetto. It worked like that. Our own people were
trained by the Japanese to inspect our people, to check if they had a permit to leave the
ghetto. Signs were put up all over, were the Ghetto ended or started. And our own
people had to check trespassers. If some unauthorized people were caught outside the
ghetto, they were punished. You could get a permit for a day or even a week or a
month, if you had a good reason or if you found Mr.Goya in a very good spirit. But if he
was in a bad mood, he could show you a temper tantrum you have never seen before.
He had every one scared of him and he was maybe 4 feet and 8 inches tall. When he
came into one of our Heime, everybody who could, escaped and hid from him. He also
carried a whip with him at all times, but I can not remember if he used it even once.
One thing, he loved children and he always gave them candies. With the grown ups he
was always barking like a dog. At least that's what he sounded like. He had everybody
at his toes.
We went on with our struggle to live. Hans had lost his job, as they did not have much
of work in those troubled times. So now Hans got himself some tools and started to do
repair work on shoes in the Heim. Since there was no cooking in the camp's kitchen,
they allowed him to use a small piece of the kitchen area and to do his work. Others
followed this example. There was one barber and also the soybean milk was prepared
in the kitchen and I don't remember who else started working in the kitchen. Hans did
not have a sewing machine to repair the top of the shoes, so we found an old
established shoemaker, his name was Mr. Knoblauch, who had brought his machine
out of Germany and did very well with his shoe repairing. He would sew all the repairs
for Hans for a fee. He only had to sew it on his machine, because Hans had everything
done to it before it came to sewing. So I went two or three times a week loaded with old
shoes in bags to be sewn up at Mr. Knoblauchs. Hans did really work hard at that time,
he was trying to make up for all the time he did not do any work. I guess he felt a little
guilty. Lots of times Edi, our friend, took the burden from me and went with the shoes to
Mr. Knoblauch – as I had now two children on my hands to take care of. I remember
one time I went to take shoes to Knoblauch and I had Mike with me. We were across
the Ward Road Heim in front of the jailhouse. A Japanese soldier was yelling at a
Chinese coolie and hitting him with his bayonet. The coolie tried to get away from him,
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and in doing so, hit back. This infuriated the soldier so much, that he pulled out his
dagger and killed the man on the spot, right in front of our eyes. My G"d, did we run, as
if the devil was behind us and he was. I will never forget it. This was the first time in my
life that I saw one person killing another and I hope, the last time.
Leon grew up gorgeous, just like Mike did, they were such wonderful children. When
Leon was about 2 weeks old, he got a little mark on his right cheek and it stayed on. At
first I thought it was like a freckle, like those I have on my face. But this freckle was
different. It grew and became a larger and then darker. So I asked the doctor about it
and he said that it probably was a birthmark and we should not do any thing for the time
being. It looked kind of cute on him. Both my children were blond and had blue eyes
when they were small. Curly locks were framing their beautiful faces. They were both
the sweethearts of the camp.
When Leon was about 3 months old I had to go and see a doctor, because I had all the
time after Leon's birth the feeling that I was loosing every thing out of my belly. It
became so bad, that I could not sit any more. Not only had I gotten Hemorrhoids, which
were plaguing me, but all I had inside me was actually coming out of me. So I went to
the doctor. I remember as if it were yesterday, it was Dr. Sax. He used to be our doctor
in the emergency room at the Pingliang Heim. He used to be in Berlin a police doctor
taking care of prostitutes. To him I had to go! I still can hear him after he took a look at
my genital parts. He clapped his hands together and exclaimed:" Mein G"tt und Herr!"
(My G"d and Lord) and asked me: Who did that to you? Who helped you with your
delivery? I told him that it was Dr. Friedman. He told me to stay on the gurney and went
to bring the other doctors from the hospital to see me. Two doctors came to look at me
and they all said, that I have to undergo corrective surgery at once. They told me to
come in the following day to be interned. I asked them what about my baby? They said
that the father should be taking care of him for a while. That was when I put my foot
down. I told them that my little baby Mike had almost died because I took him away off
my breast and that I would not let it happen to my second child again. I told them, that I
will get the operation done only, if my baby would stay with me at the hospital and that
he would be brought to me to be fed by me. After all, it was the hospital's and the
doctors' fault that I had to undergo the surgery in the first place. You see they told me
that I was torn apart by giving birth and that these things happens often; but then the
doctor is supposed to sow you up again. Dr. Friedman did not do this and I had what
they called a prolapsed genital and other prolapses that I don't remember. After arguing
for a while they all agreed to let me have my baby with me. My baby would be kept in
the maternity and for feeding it would be brought to me. I have to mention here that the
hospital was no longer in the same building. It was taken down due to lack of space for
the people who had not previously been in the camps, but had to be brought in after the
decree of the Japanese to concentrate all the Jewish refugees in the newly established
ghetto. The hospital was now together with the maternity and there was much less
space for patients there. I really don't know how they were doing it, because at that time
there were even more sick people then before. At the same time there was not much
medicine to cure them.
Two days later I had my surgery, and that was no joke. There was neither chloroform
nor ether for anesthesia. I was given a local anesthesia with morphine and I was feeling
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most of it with lots of pain. Before I was operated, my breast was pumped out so that
my baby would have enough food until I could breast feed him again and that was
good, because after the operation I was in such terrible pain, that I had to get more
morphine to kill it. For days I could not breast-feed him, but I made sure that they would
not give him any cows milk, one of the new mothers in the maternity fed him with her
milk. I developed a high temperature and the doctors did not know what it was. When
the temperature did not go down, they decided to go in again to check out what was
wrong.
But before that, they examined me on my side, rectally, with lots of pain. While the
doctor examined me suddenly I felt a snap inside me and the pain was gone instantly.
Also my temperature went down and I began feeling better. They did not tell me what it
was. But I am sure that they had stitched me onto the intestine, and, since they were
sewing with catgut, which dissolves itself in 3 to 4 days, it was ripe to dissolve. With the
movement of the doctors searching it dissolved and freed whatever it held. It took about
two weeks before I went home. In the mean time my baby had been infected with a
disease at the maternity. My baby was full of big blisters. I never knew what it was, but I
explained it here to a doctor and he said that it seems to have been scabies. All the
babies at the maternity had it. The doctor showed me how to take care of it and after a
while it healed and so did I. When it came to have intercourse with my husband, I could
not, they had made me a virgin again. It was so much pain for me and it did not get any
better as time went on. To make a long story short, I had to undergo several
"stretching" sessions. It was no joke for me, but in the hospital, they had field days of
laughter.
And so the time went on. Food became even more scarce, also work for Hans lessened
as nobody was making any money in those times, we were sitting, waiting for
something to happen. Every one was fed up with sitting in the ghetto and not being able
to get out of the restricted area. So our group of writers and actors came up with a
slogan to have a big show in our Heim, giving it every thing we got. The motto was
"NUN ERST RECHT" (NOW IN SPITE) It was to show the Japanese that they could not
push us to desperation. The show was a real success. I had a part in it too (that was
not the reason of the success.) It was that we all were in need of up-lifting and it really
did just that. Our writers wrote songs, one was our motto, "Nun erst recht". There were
a lot of songs written for these occasions, one was to the tune of the Hebrew song,
"Baah menucha lajageha." I know all the songs by heart but do'nt think I could translate
them. I think we had several hundred people coming and enjoy the shows very much.
There was singing and dancing and there was a band of musicians, artists, all sort of
performers and lecturers in our group. We had magnificent singers like Rosel Albach
Gerstel, She was an Opera singer and Raja Zomina sang in Yiddish, your heart could
melt away. And there were so many others. Sorry, but I don't remember so many
names. One of the musicians stood out for his marvelous performance. He was
dressed in a Red Cross flour sack outfit. He was one of the persons who could never
adapt to the life of a refugee. He was a person used to be taken care of, not to take
care of himself and there were lots of them in our camp. None of us knew of his talent,
because he was a loner. He walked around the camp inconspicuous like so many of
them. Unfortunately I forgot his name, I will call him Green. The first time we noticed
him was when a piano was brought in for one of our "Bunte Abende" (colorful
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evenings). He came in to the canteen and saw the piano. After he looked at it for a
while, he went over and started to test it with a few notes, then he took a chair, sat
down and started playing. I was there and observed him all that time. As you can
imagine, it was not the best piano, but when he played it, it was like music from heaven.
I had never heard any body play like that. His playing carried me, and all that were
listening to him, to highs, I could not describe. He was absolute marvelous. Later on he
told me that he was a concert pianist from Vienna. He was married to a Christian who
divorced him after the Anschluss and stayed on in Vienna with their only son. Of course
we invited him to play with us, but for the first few times he did not do it. But at the time
when we did our big show we got him to play, he was the biggest success because he
was a real maestro. He still went around not talking to any one, a loner, always in deep
concentration. Whenever we got a piano in, he was playing his heart out. Through him I
learned classical music, he had opened a new world for me. Who knows where he is
now. The last I heard was that he went back to Vienna looking for his family. I hope he
found what he was looking for and is happy with his music and his family.
When Leon was 6 months old, the wife of Bill Wolf, he was the man who had learned to
make milk out of soybeans, had a baby girl. I only knew Leane, the mother, from seeing
her in our Heim. I had never spoken to her. Well, I think her baby must have been a
month old, when one day I met her on the wide lane of our camp. She was carrying her
baby in her arms and crying bitterly. I approached her and asked her why she was
crying, I thought, that the baby, maybe, had died in her arms. Then she told me about
her problem. She did not have any milk to nourish her baby and the doctors tried
everything that was available to give to the child; but the baby's body rejected
everything and she vomited whatever they gave her. She just came from the doctor
who told her that only mother's milk could help the baby to survive. The baby had lost
considerably weight and was going down the drain. No wonder, she was crying. Now I
was blessed with a lot of milk, and I offered her my help instantly. I told her that I would
try to feed her baby twice a day, one time in the morning and one time in the evening.
In between, I was sure, that the other nourishment the doctor had prescribed before,
and which had not worked, would with my milk contribution work out fine. At least, it
would not hurt to give it a try. And that is what we did. I had not counted on how hungry
that sweet little baby was. She sucked my lungs out. I started to get terrible backaches,
the same pain I had gotten on the boat to Shanghai and we had no food to help me to
nourish two babies. But I did not stop feeding her. Lillian, the baby, started gaining
weight and blooming like a flower. But it became harder to sustain. After one month
doing it on my own, I asked another young mother, Lotte Heiman, to feed the baby
once a day. I had a hard time getting her to do it. Finally she agreed to feed the baby
for one month, after I told her, that she owed me one. How did she owe me, you may
ask? I will tell you the story. When I gave birth to Leon, Lotte was in her 8th month of
pregnancy. As I had told you before, we were all pregnant at the same time. When
Leon was one month old and she was at the beginning of her 9th month, one evening
her husband came running to get me to help his wife. They all knew that I had worked
as a nurse in the Ward Road hospital. They lived just one lane further up from us. The
poor girl was in terrible pain. She had wanted to go to the bathroom (on the pot, since
the toilets were about 1 ½ block away from her room.) She had pressed very hard to
get her bowels moved with very much pain and now it was blocked, it did not go one
way, or the other. Please excuse the language I will be using. She was bending over
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her bed with her ass toward me, it really was terrible. Her anus was stretched about 3
inches wide, with her feces stuck in there as big as a baby's head, hard as a stone. I did
not have much time to think, Lotte was crying and begging: "Please help me, help me!"
We did not have any enemas and there was no time to get a doctor for help or to take
her to a hospital, that woman was in agony and I had to help her right away. So what I
did was, with my bare hands and fingers, without gloves, (as there were none) I took
the shit out of her ass. She was relieved of her anguish instantly. For days I was unable
to get the bad smell of my hand, as we did not have good soap and lots of water. I don't
think that any one could really picture what it means to be living like that. When I think
back, It seems like a bad dream, I can hardly believe it my self. She told me, that she
was in my debt forever. So I called my debt in. Nobody knew about it.
It made it easier for me to feed the baby just one time a day and after a month when
Lotte stopped feeding I continued for one more month to feed her just once a day, in
order not to stop the breast feeding all at once. It worked out very well. Lillian gained
weight, and when she was 4 months old , she was just as big and healthy as any baby
her age. It was good though that I stopped feeding her and also my baby at that time,
because I was not able to handle it any more. My back was killing me and my anemia
returned. During the whole time I was helping by feeding Lillian, I was in trouble with
Hans. He was very much against my feeding 2 babies at the time because of my health
and he was partially right. But I survived it and so did our babies and I felt very good to
have helped save that little life. It was so good to see that baby grow up to become a
lovely little girl and later on a beautiful young women. About that I will write later on.
World War 2 was in full swing and there was nothing we could do. Life in the camps
continued plagued by sicknesses and diseases. People were dying, but not only from
diseases, suicides, hunger, sunstroke, cold. Nothing was left out; we had it all. The
news of the war was bad. In the middle of the night men assembled in the canteen, with
lookouts outside to keep watch for the Japanese, because they were listening to BBC,
and that was forbidden by decree. If the Japanese would have discovered them
listening, they all could have landed in jail or worse. After the news, Hans had to strip
down outside the room and check for lice. I think I wrote already about that.
One day I was called to the office. There was a phone call for me: Mary Backman was
on the line. She told me, that she had found out, that the French Red Cross had send
food to the French consulate in Shanghai, to be distributed to their nationals in China.
She said that since Mike was born in France, he is a French subject. So she called the
French consulate and asked them about Mike. They told her that he certainly was
entitled to get food and I should come and bring his birth certificate. To go to the French
consulate was easier said then done. I had to go to Goya to get a pass, in order to get
out of the ghetto. The following morning I went to see about a pass. I did not think that I
would be able to get it that day, as there were about 50 or more people waiting on the
street to see Goya for a pass. I waited there the whole day and was lucky, I got a pass.
The next morning I went to the Consulate and Mary was waiting there for me. I had no
problems getting the food. it consisted of a sack of oatmeal, a large bottle of oil a small
sack of rice a small sack of semolina and a sack of flour. I felt very rich at that time.
Then she took me to the house where she lived with her friend. She had a car with a
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driver who took us there. It was in the middle of the French town, a beautiful three story
home. I don't remember much of it, only one thing. When I saw the bathroom with that
large tub in it, the first thing I asked her was if I could take a long bath. Since neither her
boy friend nor any of his sons were home, she told me that there was no problem. So I
soaked for a long time in the water, while Mary was sitting on a chair telling me a lot of
her secrets and gossips of all those "fine ladies" she kept company with. Her secrets
will remain her secrets for now. I am not ready to talk about them yet, maybe later. After
my bath, she had a nice meal prepared for me, and she packed a lot of food to take
home with me. Then they took me in the car to the Garden Bridge, that was the end of
the International Settlement area. She put me in a rickshaw for which she paid, and I
was taken home into the ghetto. What a day this had been. I felt so heavenly clean; the
food she had given me along fed us for a couple of days. She really was a good friend
to me at that time. I don't know where she is now, After the war was over, we lost
contact. I saw her once more one evening, when she came unexpected into our Heim.
She told me then that she had broken up with her friend and that she was trying to get
to America. I hope she got here. I would not know where to look for her. I would be real
happy to see her again and to find out what had become of her.
After we had eaten all the food Mary had packed for me, I finally opened the food I had
gotten from the consulate: what a disappointment. The oil was rancid, and all the flour
and cereals were contaminated with bugs. In desperation I went to Mutter Arvin asking
her what I should do with it. From her I learned,: anything I was making with the oil I
should first cook some garlic in it, that would take care of it. It really did, but I don't know
whether I would do it today, but under the circumstances we lived in, it was acceptable.
With the cereal she said that whatever amount I cooked put into the pot and covered
with water. When it gets warm she said, most of the bugs will surface and you can skim
them off with a spoon. What does not come up will become part of the protein in the
food. That would be good for us. With the flour I had no other choice than to use at it
was, there was no way to skim anything off. Only the bigger bugs I could sift. The rest
were cooked and consumed, it kept us alive. And that was the way I did it and we ate it
and so did our friends. I also gave mother Arvin a nice amount, for which she was very
grateful. We used up every bit of it. It was better than to have an empty stomach.
During all that time I was busy taking care of my children and trying to keep our little
room and ourselves as clean as possible. It was not easy with the kind of soap and the
lack of water, but we managed to keep lice and fleas away from us. We did not do that
well with the bedbugs. Every body had the same problem. But that was not all. I kept
the bread in a box on a little dresser we had in the room. One day I reached into the
box and gabbed at what I thought was bread and it was a big fat living rat. I dropped
her, started screaming and running through the whole camp, all the time screaming.
Every body in the camp thought that I had gone crazy. No wonder, I thought that I
would go crazy. Even now after so many years, as I am writing about it, it gives me the
shivers. There was a big hole on the bottom of the wall we saw it after removing the
dresser. We closed the hole, but that was not the end of our rats. Three times they got
through the same hole. We finally caught them with huge traps. You should have seen
them: they were as large as a good size cat. After we had caught three of them and
closed the hole in the wall again we had gotten rid of them.
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Then my darling Mike got the measles, and, we thought that baby Leon would get it too.
After Mike got over it, Leon still had not contacted yet. We were noticing hat little Mike
was limping with one leg. Nothing was hurting him and we could not find anything on his
leg that would make him limp. The Dr. said that there are some times complications
after the measles that attacked a nerve in his leg, he would grow out of it. It took a long
time and lots of worries on our part, but he got better.
A short while after Mike was through with the measles, Leon started out with a high
temperature. The doctors came and could not find any thing wrong with him. This went
on for several days. Nothing showed except a high temperature. One day the doctor
had just left and not found anything, Leon broke out with red spots all over his body.
The doctor had gone to visit another patient in the camp, so we could still reach him. He
came in and he said that it was the measles. While the doctor was still there those
spots disappeared again to never come back. He had had the measles, but inside. After
that, slowly the temperature came down and Leon became well again.
Not too long after that, my Leon started with high temperature again and the same thing
happened all over. Nothing wrong could be found; but the fever lingered on. I was
already desperate. There was an "alte Yiddene" (an old Jewish lady) in the camp. She
saw and approached me. And she told me that she heard that my baby was sick and
they could not find out what was wrong with him, and she continued telling me, that she
was sure, that some body had given my baby a Nehorre (an evil eye). I really don't
believe in such things and I told her so. But she insisted, telling me that she could get
the Nehorre off the baby and what harm would it do to try? So I agreed to let her try it.
She came in to our room. We had the Chinese oven on as she had told me to do. She
also needed a pot with cold water and she told us to watch what she was doing She
also explained to us, that when you throw a red-hot coal into cold water the coal would
sink immediately. If it does not sink, but floats, the baby had been given a Nehorre.
What shall I tell you? She mumbled some prayers which we did not understand,
grabbed with a pair of pliers a piece of burning red coal and threw it into the water. It
started steaming, the coal turned black and swam on top of the water. Then she put her
hands on top of Leon's little head, said another prayer. After that she told us that there
was no more evil eye on him, but she said to be sure to always have a red band, or
something red, on him to shun evil eyes away from him. The fever was gone in a little
while and he was all well again. Can you blame me, for always having something red on
both of my children from then on? And that was my experience with THE EVIL EYE.
When my baby Leon was about a year and a half old, he started again having a high
temperature. Again nothing could be found. Suddenly, without a warning, he stiffened
up in my arms, becoming hard as a rock and shaking like a leaf. His eyes were looking
at me with an expression of scare and big pearls of sweat rolled down his death-white
face and cheeks. I started screaming for help. Hans and all the neighbors came running
in. I heard a voice yelling: "I saw Dr. Friedmann just leaving the Heim, get him quick!"
Dr. Friedmann came running and I was holding my baby fearing that he would expire in
my arms. The Dr. gave one look at my baby, opened his bag, took out a syringe and an
ampulle with some medication and injected some of the fluid into my baby's tushy. Very
slowly Leon recovered and started crying with a very weak voice. He was exhausted. It
had taken all the strength out of him. The doctor told me to go right then to the hospital.
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In the same night, he had another one of those attacks and none of the doctors knew
what to make of it.
In the morning they called Dr. Glass, a children's specialist, to ask him what to do. Dr.
Glass was allowed by the Japanese authorities to remain in the International Settlement
and not go into the ghetto, as he was taking care of the Japanese children as well. The
same was true for Dr. Mosse. Dr. Glass told our doctors to give my baby sulphatemin,
or something, injections, at that time we had no antibiotics, at least not in Shanghai. My
baby had seven attacks in 3 days and he became weaker and weaker. Dr. Glass was
asked by our doctors to please come and see the baby; but he was very busy. Four
days we were already in the hospital and it was Erev Yom Kippur (the holiest day of the
year), they were tired of begging him to come. I insisted that if we ask him that in the
spirit of Yom Kippur he would not deny to come. Dr. Elias said that he would call him
and I should pick up a connection and so I did. Dr. Elias gave Dr. Glass a report about
the condition of my baby and asked him again to come. He answered that he really
could not do more for the baby than the doctors in the hospital were doing for him, and,
then he said, "that points out the severity of the baby's ailment. If the baby is still alive
tomorrow morning, I will come over to see it." Imagine my feelings at what he said. Dr.
Elias tried his best to comfort me, he did not succeed, I was devastated. And sure
enough he came.
It was on Yom Kippur in 1944, somehow things happened to us on Yom Kippur. First
with Mike and then with Leon. I was wearing my nurses uniform, otherwise I could not
have stayed with my baby all the time, day and night. Dr. Altmann opened the door to
our sick-room and said with a gesture of reverence, Dr. Glass. He came in and all the
doctors on duty were following him. I was just picking Leon up, Dr. Glass looked at me
and stated, "You are his mother." How did he know that I was his mother? All the other
nurses were wearing the same uniform as I was, but he noticed right off hand. Leon
started to cough, just a little bit and he said : "Und a Keuchhusten hat er auch." ( and
the whooping cough he has as well.) We all looked at him in disbelief asking, whooping
cough? Leon had not coughed at all in all the time he was sick. Then he explained to all
of us, he was actually giving us a lecture, Leon had the whooping cough all right, but
hidden as he had the measles. About the measles, it was so strange, as Dr. Glass had
no knowledge that it too had been hidden. He explained, and I can not repeat all the
fancy language he used. The thing I got out of it was, that because he had the ailment
inside and not coughing it out, it got somehow to his nerve system, causing the kind of
attack he got. He explained that the whooping cough by itself is a dangerous ailment
and the way my little baby had it, it was even more so. He told the other doctors how to
treat my baby, set up a timing for injections to be given, and other medications. He kept
in touch with the doctors and advised them in every thing. Little by little my baby got
better and we finally could leave the hospital.
Poverty and fear, that was our life, and still there were others who were even worse off
then we were. For example, the Chinese poor, they were homeless, whole families of
them were sleeping on the streets covered with newspapers and rags. In the mornings
the children were standing in front of the gates to our Heim, begging for a piece of
bread, it was pitiful. I felt so bad about that, but then it demonstrated to me that we
could be in a much worse situation. At tat time, if I remember it right, they had started to
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cook in the kitchen again and we received a plate of soup and a bread per person. I
always had some of the bread left over. In the mornings, when I went to buy hot water
for our breakfast and to wash the children, I took the leftover bread for the Chinese
children, as did all the others in the camp with their leftovers. To see those children
fighting over the bread would break my heart and I was grateful for what we had. I
remember, when we first moved into the Seward Heim, I was taking a short cut to go to
the Tongshan Road over a large empty lot located right next to our Heim. This lot used
to be a full block of houses, but was all bombed out during the Chinese – Japanese
War and was never rebuild. When I saw a dead little Chinese girl lying under a bush,
she was fully dressed on top of a neat mat, I ran to the police to tell them about it. But
they did not seem to be bothered by it. They said that they would see to it that she will
be picked up. What did I know, she was still lying there for a long time. Later on I found
out, that the poor when thy could not afford a funeral for a dead family member, they
would put them out on the streets to be picked up by special trucks and put into mass
graves. It was no wonder, that there were so many diseases in Shanghai, with dead
people laying on the streets for days before they were picked up. As time went on, I
saw many dead lying right in front of our Heim. It is strange, but when you see so many
of dead people lying on the streets, the dead lose individuality and become part of the
general picture. One passes by and does not spend any thought over it. I guess that,
that is human nature.
I don't remember when it was, but I think it was about a ½ year before Leon was born
that the "Paul Komor Kindergarten" was opened for our children. All I know was that it
was good for our children, they at least got milk and one good meal there. The
Kindergarten was located in the back of our Heim, though it was not connected and we
had to go out of the Heim, around to Kung Ping Rd., to the street running parallel to
Seward Rd., to the entrance to the Kindergarten. I believe that it was Tong Shan Rd.
Any way, I think, when Mike was 4 years old, he started to go there. They had about 5
caretakers for the children and I don't know how many were working in the kitchen. The
children were very well taken care of, at least in the Kindergarten. The children had toys
to play with. They learned and played, and they were put to sleep for their naps. One of
the nannies was Hella Levy and I met her many years later in San Francisco. It was
nice to recollect the time together with her. Later on my Leon also went to the
Kindergarten. I have a large picture of almost all the children that went over there. I
think that they took care of about 50 children at a time. All that I am writing about in
these papers, I am telling it the way I saw and lived it. It is all written from the
perspective of my eyes and of my feelings – as for statistics, don't take my word for it.
We were struggling along as well as we could, which was not very good, but the news
were getting a little brighter. We heard of Hitler being defeated in Russia. They had lost
thousands of soldiers in Russia and were pulling back. We were jubilant, maybe there
still was some hope? As the news looked brighter our situation in Shanghai became
worse. It was not only the food shortage, although that was the principal problem, it also
was that the treatment we got from the Japanese. It deteriorated even more. Also there
were rumors going around, that the Japanese were planning to build something, that
they had orders from Germany to build some concentration camps like the ones in
Europe and that we would all be killed. Those were rumors, we did not know were they
came from. But it did not make our run-down nerves any good. As they say, where
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there is smoke, there is a fire. We worried for some time and then put it out of our
minds. We also heard that the Japanese were slowing down in the Pacific and that
America was picking up. This kind of news gave us a lift. So we had our daily ups and
downs, about that, we could not complain.
The real bad diseases came closer to home now. People living in our camp were picked
up with cholera, yellow fever, and other ailments. All those diseases occur for lack of
cleanliness with food and on the body. The water was polluted and had to be boiled
over and over again. Nothing was supposed to be eaten without being cooked before. I
tried to do my best to keep up with it. But without enough water and soap, it was
difficult. Now think about all the bachelors who in good times would not know how to
take care of themselves, for them it was even worse. I don't remember, when it was that
a water well was dug out in our camp, it was not to be consumed as drinking water; but
to have water to wash with and to clean. It was a terrible thing that happened, when the
little boy of mother and father Kohn fell ill and he was taken out of the Heim in a
stretcher. At first, when I saw him being taken out, I thought that he too had some of the
diseases going around; but then I found out that he had meningitis. He died shortly after
that. I think he was 11 or 12 years old. His parents grieved beyond compare. We all
suffered with them. He was the first child pulled out from our midst. What a punishment
for parents to have to bury a child, in this case their only child.
I think it was in the beginning of 1944 that we heard rumors that the war in the pacific
was not going too well for the Japanese. We could not hear too much from the radio
any more, as the Japanese were patrolling and inspecting more intensively those days.
We actually could feel it in the air that the Japanese were not doing well at all in the
Pacific. We finally had a spark of hope coming our way. As the months of 1944
advanced, there were other rumors of an invasion in Europe by the allied forces. There
were all sorts of rumors in the air. But rumors or the truth, it made us alive again and it
helped to overcome our hunger. The news was coming in slowly, but, whatever it was, it
was good news for us. We finally heard that Hitler was loosing the war and by the end
of April 1945 we heard that Germany had surrendered. Hitler had committed suicide. It
had happened at last. We could not openly express our happiness, as the war with
Japan was still very much on. And then came the news of the atrocities, of the mass
killings in the concentration camps and of gas chambers. Was it possible? We did not
dare to believe it; but we received the truth soon enough, we tried, at least I did, to put it
out of my mind, otherwise I thought I would go crazy.
I think that it was in the beginning of June 1945 there was a bombardment close to
Shanghai. We did not have any air-raid shelters, so our men were shoveling ditches to
make room to try to protect us. Now the things started happening, one after another.
We heard airplanes far away and the anti-air flack from very close by. They also started
to sound the siren to give us a warning that an attack was coming. Shanghai was
bombed heavily. We could see the B-29 bombers, I think that's what they were, and the
Japanese flack trying to shoot them down. We were praying, my G"d were we praying,
that the Japanese should not hit them. They, the B-29 bombers were our salvation, the
first sign for us that maybe we would be a free people again.
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And then came the 17 of July 1945. The planes and the bombs came closer. Mike my
baby, was at the Kadoorie school, I had to get him quickly. I knew that they had air-raid
shelters there and that they would not let them get out from the school, but I wanted my
child to be with us, so I ran. Baby Leon was laying in his crib and Hans was repairing
shoes in front of our little room. I told Hans to watch the baby and I ran as if the devil
was behind me. At the entrance of the Heim our Pao Chia (watchmen) tried to stop me,
"nobody is allowed to leave in an air-raid!" they were yelling after me, but I was gone
already. I ran down Chusan Rd. to Tongshan Rd. and I heard the bombs falling closer
and closer and I ran. I was already two large blocks from our camp, when I saw them. It
was my little Mike running hand in hand with Dinah Krone, one of our neighbors in the
Heim. I grabbed them both and we ran back to our camp with the bombs falling behind
us and there was a direct hit in the Shanghai Ashkenazi Collaborating Relief
Association (SACRA) lane. We ran to our room, the noise of bombs falling mixed with
the noise of the airplanes are still sealed in my brains, it came closer and closer. I
grabbed my baby out of the crib and hurled both of my children under the little table.
There was a panic in the camp. Women were fainting, children were screaming and
there was no water to revive the fainted. Two of the fainted women were brought into
our little room out of the canteen and I sent one man with a bucket to the well to pump
up some water to wash their faces in order to revive them. We heard some more
bombs falling, but farther away from us and then the siren started, telling us that the
attack was over. Later I found out that when the attack started that all the children in
school were taken to the shelter. Mike and Dinah escaped through a hole in the
playground fence. Mike said that he wanted to be with us and Dinah too wanted to be
with her parents.
And then came the clean up and the taking care of the wounded and the dead. A bomb
had fallen next to the Komor Kindergarten in the same block were we were living. It was
a miracle that none of the children were hurt. There were lots of Chinese killed and
wounded and as well as our refugees, our men went out to the streets to help the
Chinese to take care of the wounded. I remember, there were no bandages for the
Chinese outside of our camp, and we took our sheets from the beds and made
bandages from them. And then we heard about our own people. Over 300 people were
killed in Shanghai on this day. 31 or 32 of them were refugees and over 200 Jews were
wounded, some of them very badly. And there was more, the attack created thousands
of homeless refugees as well as Chinese. What a day that was. When I wanted to put
Leon back into his crib, I found a piece of shrapnel from a bomb on the linen. It was
about 3 inches long and 1 ½ inch wide. I still have it saved. Had my Leon been lying in
bed he would have been wounded or even worse. I can not even think of it, without
getting the shivers. Georg Maerz our friend had been buried alive in the SACRA lane. I
can still see him in front of my eyes after they had dug him out from under the rubble.
He came to our room, his face was white, it looked as if all his blood was drained out of
him. His clothing was gray from the rubble and he could hardly walk. He carried a briefcase with him and he handed this brief-case over to me and asked me: "Please Rita
save this for me and watch it, as I can not do any thing now." So I put the briefcase
under my mattress, thus saving it for him. After a few days he came for it, he was fully
recovered from his shock.
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There were more attacks but not as close as the one on the 17th. After the big attack
the Japanese opened the jailhouse for air raid shelter and for first aid. Somehow, I was
not afraid of the attacks, not for myself; but for my children. For me it was the beginning
of the end of our tzores (sorrow). On August 6th l945, there was something in the air,
we did not know what it was, but the Japanese went around with long faces as if they
were depressed. We did not know, at the time, that an Atomic bomb was dropped on
Hiroshima. We had no idea, what an Atomic bomb was and neither did the Japanese. A
second Bomb was dropped on Nagasaki two days later. The Japanese found out the
hard way what the atomic bomb was and when we found out what it was, the war was
already over. I don't know how many hundreds of thousands of people were killed and
maimed with those two bombs; but we figured that it must have been terrible. On
August the 14th the Japanese signed their surrender to the United States. World War 2
was over.
CHINA PART 4
First of all we celebrated the end of the war. Georg Maerz our friend had saved during
the whole war years a bottle of two Liter of pure 96% alcohol. He gave me the bottle
and told me to make liquor of it. What did I know of making Liquor? I asked mother
Arvin and she helped me to make it. Franz Fischer brought cookies, potatoes I got from
the kitchen and I made potato salad. I don't remember what we all prepared. I only
remember that I was schicker (drunk) for the first time in my life. I had a hang-over for
several days, I could not even sit up without the feeling, that every thing was turning
around me. I was so dizzy and my head felt as if it were made out of iron – so heavy it
felt to me.
Of course, now every body thought that the Ghetto was open and that we were all free
to go wherever we wanted. Wrong, the law was supposed to last until the Americans
came with their ships to take over. But now we could openly listen to the radios and find
out for our selves what was going on in the world. Communications with America was
opened and again funds came in for our support. It was strange to see that most of the
Japanese soldiers suddenly disappeared from the streets, only the soldiers that were
watching for law and order and that we, the refugees in the camps, would not leave
outside the Ghetto, were still there in uniforms and heavily armed. Now we saw all the
others in civilian clothing. For me this turning over point did not make that of a much
difference. I stayed mostly in our camp watching and taking care of my children; but we
were breathing easier and we were not afraid that we must go into hiding if Ghoya the
king of the Jews, as he called himself, came into camp.
We received more food and were promised that as soon as the Americans were
coming, we would get large food packages. As it turned out, we did. We received Ten in
one rations. Which was the food for the soldiers in the fields. Those were delicacies of
which we had not even dared to dream of, and which I, personally, did not even know
existed. I am getting ahead of myself and I don't want to do that. First the American
ships came to shore and that alone was a holiday for us. Then a Jewish high officer of
the army, or was it of the navy? I don't remember it too well, came with maybe 10
officers of his staff to speak to all of us. He was standing on a large table in our camp.
There were hundreds of us standing around them to hear from him, that the war was
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over and that we were free to go where ever we wanted to. We all were jubilant and
after that, came the 10 in one packages.
Every day now brought something new. We learned of the systematic killings of our
people, families and friends, by the Germans. Of gas chambers and crematoria, of
soap made from our brethren's human fat. We could not believe it. I refused to believe
it. And then the Russians came and brought films that they had taken when they freed
the concentration camps. I remember they showed the take over of Auschwitz and a
group of us friends went to see it. I was warned before I went by people who had seen
it, that they did not think that I was strong enough to see it, but I went any way. It was
horrible, I can not describe it. Even now, so many years have gone by, I am sitting here
and I am crying, because I am seeing it in front of my eyes so vividly. I can not describe
it, it is too horrendous. Even later on when, in Israel, visiting the Yad Va Shem
(Memorial to the Holocaust Victims in Jerusalem), was not as dreadful as the original
take over right after the Germans had fled the scene. Only one good thing came out of
seeing the documentary. Franz'l Fischer, who was there with us, recognized his cousin
who was a doctor and who was guiding the officers and soldiers that had come to free
them, through the concentration camp. Franz'l was very excited although at first, he
could not be sure because the man on the screen was as skinny as a skeleton and he
found out later on, that it was his cousin he had recognized. They found out for him his
name and also gave him a picture that they took out from the film. Also that he was
interned now in a hospital in Switzerland, to recover from his ordeal. I personally did not
sleep nor eat for days after seeing the documentary. After that, I became an agnostic.
Up to that point, I was very religious. Not any more after that. I did not light Shabbat
candles any more, (during all that time in the war, I lit oil lamps like we use for Jahrzeit
– memorial anniversary candles) nor did I keep the Sabbat any more. I could not
believe that there was a G"d who could stand by and see that six million innocent Jews,
men women and children were killed with torture and not stretch out his hand to protect
them. That was too much to believe in, for me. We started looking for family and friends
in Germany, Poland and all of Europe. The Red Cross opened a special office for that
reason on Tongshan Rd. I remember standing in line with hundreds of other refugees to
sign up the names for the relatives and friends we were looking for. I had send out
letters to my parents in Argentina; but communications were not re-established that
quickly. It takes a long time to get all back to pre-war normality.
Georg Maerz was doing well. He had started a bakery somewhere on the other side of
Shanghai, past the International Settlement and French Concession. Every day early in
the morning he brought fresh baked bread to his customers in Honkew. He had
acquired a 3 wheel motorcycle with a large covered container in the back and in that
container he brought the bread. He loved my children and he promised Mike that he
would take him to his bakery, with my permission of course. At first I did not want him to
go, I had never been separated from my Mike and I did not like him to go where I could
not pick him up at any time I wanted to. Georg told me to trust him, that he would take
him after he had made all his deliveries and he promised to bring him back early in the
morning. I decided to let Mike go with him. After spending a miserable day and night,
missing my little boy, morning arrived. Georg was late and he came without my baby. I
was furious. He told me that little Mike was sleeping and he could not bring himself to
wake him up. He said that he had left instructions to his baker to give him breakfast and
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to watch him. Well I told him, that I was going right with him and that he would have to
bring us back right away. I left my baby Leon with Hans and we left. It seemed to me
that his bakery was at the end of the world, so far out it was. Finally we arrived and
looked for my little boy. He was not there, my seven year old boy was gone. I became
hysterical, crying where is my baby and where can we look for him? Georg spoke to his
baker and asked him in which direction he went. He said that he went in the direction of
the big Pagoda. There was a large Pagoda we had passed before we got to his place
and we started running toward it. I can not write down, all the things I was imagining in
my mind, I was simply disheartened. We arrived at the Pagoda and Georg was sure
that that, would have attracted a little boy like my Mike. The pagoda was very tall. If I
remember it right it had eight stories. We called and called his name, but did not get an
answer, I already thought that he was not there, when Georg spotted him. He was high
up. I think it was on the sixth or seventh story. I don't know how he had managed to get
up that high, there were no stairs, at least none that I could see. My heart was in my
belly. I don't know how I survived that situation. Now I was scared to call him, because
he could fall off from there. George said that he would climb up and get him down
safely and he did. I had not realized how many people had gathered around the
Pagoda, watching Georg's rescuing my little boy and many stretched out their hands at
the end to get him down safely. I had the feeling that my son was born to me for a
second time. The picture of Georg carrying my Mike in one of his arms while climbing
down one story after the other, is very much alive in my mind and I doubt that I will ever
forget it. After the rescue and my calming down, we went back to the bakery.
When today we think of a bakery, we image a nice, clean place, with a clean oven and
tables around to work on and naturally fresh running water. George showed me around.
There were no faucets with running water, the water he got in barrels filled up from the
river that was running near by. He showed me how he cleansed the water, as the water
was very dirty. He had some white pills in a bottle he said that they came from the
United States, I believe that they were some sort of chlorine. He put some of the pills in
the water and we went ahead to see some more things he wanted to show me, when
we came back to the barrels, the water was clean. The dirt was at the bottom of the
barrel. That was the water used to make the delicious bread and we drank from the
water too, it tasted a little bit like Clorox. Thinking back, the whole bakery was a little
dirty barn, the floor was sand and the oven was heated with wood in an open fire under
it. Georg slept in a loft right above the oven, He said that it was nice and warm at night
and my Mike agreed with him. He said that he had a lovely time with Georg there. Then
he brought us back home and I was happy to be back together with my two children.
We now had so much to eat, that we did not need that many packages any more and
right a way people in our camps made a business out of it. They bought the 10 in one
boxes from all of us. If I remember it right, we received 4 boxes every four weeks, one
box per person. The boxes were called 10 in one, because there were 10 rations for 10
soldiers for one day in it. Our stomachs could not take that much food any more, so we
had at least one box left over without opening. I did not see anything wrong with it as I
needed some money in my hands to buy things we were not supplied with. Jewish
soldiers were swarming our Heime, they were looking for a Jewish word and some
Jewishness, they had missed during the war overseas.
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My little Mike made a friend of one of the soldiers. He came home from the Cheder he
was going to, with a soldier who had gone there to see the children learn Hebrew. He
loved children, he had little brothers and sisters back home in the States and he missed
them very much, that was why he went to the Cheder in the first place. Through this
young soldier I could get my first letter through to my parents. He sent it through the
military mail to America to his parents and they send it to Argentina to my parents. In
the same way I received the first letter from my parents. After correspondence was reestablished my parents wrote to me that they had asked my aunt Toni in the United
States to send an affidavit of support for us, so that we would be able to immigrate to
America. At that time, I did not feel that I wanted to go to America, because I had heard
that in America they were persecuting black people and that they also were very much
against us Jewish people. Little did I know, that in Buenos-Aires all the Nazis from
Germany had found their refuge and that Argentina was very anti-Semitic. But in order
to get out of Shanghai I would have gone to any country that would take us. Back to the
young soldier. He was a very nice Jewish young man and loved both of my children. He
took Mike to the airport and he was allowed to get on an airplane. He also took him to
see the war ships and he went on one to look around. My little Mike really got to see a
lot of things while this soldier was on leave in Shanghai. When he finally had to leave,
my children sure missed him very much. He always had brought them gifts my children
had never known before. I remember the first Chanukah after the war was over, the
American Jewish soldiers prepared a Chanukah party for all of our children. Besides
getting food and other gifts, each child received Chanukah-geld one U.S.$1.00 put in a
special envelope with a special folded card. On that card was written, on top of the
folder. CHANUKAH GREETINGS CHINA "CHANUKA GREETINGS CHINA" There
were pictures of a Chanukia with the word MACCABI written on it in Hebrew letters, a
cooli carrying food and a large Star of David with the letters JWB in it and the year
1945. On the opposite side there was written "AN AMERICAN DOLLAR FOR
CHANUKA GELT FROM YOUR "BIG BROTHER"AN AMERICAN JEWISH SOLDIER."
On the other side was written "CHANUKA GELT" and a paper Chinese cent was stuck
in the center and under it was a new American Dollar. I have the card in front of me.
They did every thing so attractively and it felt so good to see that they cared so much.
They really made us feel human again.
Our life did not change very much after the war, the only change was that we had more
to eat and we could move around more. Little by little things started to normalize. We
also had some showers installed where once a week we could take wonderful hot
showers. We here have baths and showers in our apartments and homes, no one other
than those who went through years without them, can understand the meaning to be
without such a luxury. Other things happened too. There were some women in the
Heim and I suppose in the other camps too, that went to work in bars and
supplemented their income that way.
We started to receive mail from overseas and they, in return, received our mail. The
questions we heard and asked now, what now? And where will we go now? It took a
long time for consulates to be restored and when they reopened, would we then be
worthy in their eyes to go to their country? If they did not let us in before the war, would
they let us in now? All these questions we asked of ourselves and of others. We were
free from Japanese oppression, and we could move around in the city, even in the
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whole country of China; but we had no way out from there we were trapped. We still
were refugees. We still were supported by our brethren, the Joint Relief Center in the
USA and the HIAS in Europe. We still had no place to go to. Then we received some
answers to our questions from the Red Cross. You will remember, we had them
searching for our family and friends. The answers we got were 99% heart-breaking. The
Germans are known all over the world, of doing good work and had done such good
jobs even in killing people, they had registered the names of their victims and the dates
they were send to the gas chambers and the crematoria. I was standing in line with
hundreds of our people and I found out that Minna, my sister-in-law, was killed in Kiev,
my brother in law Shlomo, was killed in Auschwitz and burned in the crematoria. From
my in-laws, Hans's mother, father and his two sisters, were last in Warsaw, where they
perished with all the others in the uprising of the Warsaw Ghetto. There was no trace of
them to be found. Have you ever seen hundreds of people cry in disconsolation? I was
one of them. The pain was so horrendous, that it is impossible to describe it. There was
a terrible guilt feeling in most of us. We could not understand as to why were we
exempt, when so many innocent people were butchered by those murderers? We,
complete strangers, could not look into each other's eyes without breaking out bitterly
crying. We felt guilty to be alive.
At the same time we found Ida, Hans's youngest sister. She had run away from
Warsaw and had joined the Polish Anders Army. We later found out that she had
landed in Palestine and joined the British Jewish Brigade. She met and married a
British soldier by the name Ted Reynolds and moved to England where she searched
for Manfred and Lothar Rogozinski. As you remember Shlomo and Minna, their parents,
had sent them, with a Kinder Transport (children's transport), to England. She had
found them and they were safe. The boys, in 1948 after the State of Israel was
reestablished, went to Israel and are still living there with their children and grandchildren. People around us became very impatient.
People all around us, refugees like us, became very impatient, they wanted to leave
Shanghai, they wanted to go and search for their families, they could not believe and
they did not want to believe that everything was lost. To be reunited with their loved
ones, was all they had hoped and longed for in all this years That was what had kept
them functioning and alive. There was no transportation out of Shanghai, not yet. It was
about March 1946 when the first consulates opened in Shanghai. In April an Argentine
Consulate opened its doors in Shanghai, Dr. Jose Arce was the first ambassador to
Shanghai. Now I began to have some new thoughts. The ambassador was not the
same man as the one in Kobe, 5 years back, and here I was, I had all the papers, five
years old and a letter from the Consul in Japan telling me that it was cancelled. An
unused visa on my unused "llamada," and a letter from the Consul in Japan, telling me
that my visa was cancelled. What should I do?
After thinking and talking with Hans and all our good friends about our situation, we
decided that I could not lose anything by going to the International Joint Distribution
Center and ask them about their opinion. The Joint was our refugees committee. It was
trying to help all of us to get us where we wanted to go, so far without any result. A Mr.
Jordan had been send from the USA to help the refugees. So I took all my papers and
went to the committee. I wanted to speak to Mr. Jordan, but was told that he was not in.
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They suggested to me to talk to Mr. Feder who was supposed to be Mr. Jordan's right
hand man. Mr. Feder was a very nice man, a refugee as we all were and very
sympathetic to my difficulty. After thinking it over and over again, he advised me of what
he would do in my situation. "First of all, I would destroy the letter of the Argentine
Consul in Japan," he said. "You just did not receive it and have no knowledge about a
letter at all. With the rest of the papers, the visa and the llamada, I would go to the
ambassador and talk to him and see what will come out of it. You have nothing to lose."
He said that he would set up an appointment with the ambassador and send a
translator to go with me. I told him that I did not need a translator because I was fluent
in Spanish. He was very happy to hear that and commented that, that it would be an
even better chance for me to get what I wanted from him, when I talk to him in his own
language.
I received my appointment for May 17, 1946. The Consulate was located on Szechuan
Road one block off Peking Road, if I remember it right. The date was the same day, 13
years back in 1933, when I left Dortmund with my little sister Betty to travel by train to
Essen, going to my uncle. Two days before leaving Germany. Maybe it was a good
omen? On the corner of Szechuan and Peking Road, was the American Consulate, just
one block away from each other. When I arrived at the Consulate, the waiting room was
filled with our people wanting to get out from Shanghai and maybe go to Argentina.
There was a translator in the office with the Ambassador and some of the applicants for
a visa, if they could get a visa. There was a translator in the office with the Ambassador
and some of the applicants for a visa. When the people that where in the office came
out, the translator who spoke French with the Ambassador, saw me, and came over to
talk to me. He asked me in German if I was the lady that speaks Spanish and if I was
sure that I could speak to the ambassador without him to translate for me. After I
assured him that I could do it myself. He told me that he will announce me to the
Ambassador. When he came out of the office the next time, the translator called my
name, and I got a welcome from Dr. Arce I had never anticipated. He actually came out
of the office with open arms and said to me: "Y usted habla en español, venga hija y
cuenteme como aprendió a hablar nuestro idioma?" And with these words he pulled me
into his office. It was a very large office attractively decorated. All the chairs and the
carpet were in royal blue. There was a large desk to the right of the room and by the
window was a round table with two club chairs around them. To those chairs he guided
me and made me sit down. He was a tall handsome man in his fifties I would say, gray
haired, very friendly and very proper. So he wanted to know, where I learned to speak
Spanish and he was happy when I told him that I learned my Spanish in Barcelona. He
told me, that he had lived there and was the Argentine Consul in Barcelona. (Maybe it
was he who had denied us our visa to Argentina when we applied for it in Barcelona. I
did not mention it to him.) And he went on recalling the places he had visited and seen
and so did I. I almost forgot what it was, that I had gone there for in the first place, we
had such a pleasant time together. We were talking and reminiscing for at least a halfhour when suddenly he asked me: " And what can I do for you, young lady?" I was
called back into the present. I took out my llamada my French Souve Conduit and my
Komor Passport with the visa and gave it to him and I told him that of course these
papers are 5 years old; but I asked him, "was it my fault that the war broke out and I
could not leave Shanghai because of it?" So I asked him to renew my visa and my
llamada in order for us to be reunited with my parents and sisters in Argentina. He was
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weighing the papers in his hands looking very serious at me and then he put a bright
grin on his face and said: "Y desde ya le digo, que voy a darle una visa nueva." ( And
now I tell you, I am going to give you a new visa.) Then I told him that I had given birth
to a second child, he shook his head, took a deep breath, and said that he would add
the child on to the papers. Then I asked about my husband and he said categorically,
NO! And he lifted his finger shaking it in front of me and said, "don't push it." and I did
not say one more word about Hans. He then told me, that once I am with my children in
Argentina, I would not have any problem to get my husband over there. After that he
became very professional and told me to get pictures ready for him and a paper from
Hans permitting me to take the children away from Shanghai, with me to Argentina.
When I left the embassy I was in a daze, I did not know if I was dreaming or was it real?
Had I just been assured by the ambassador himself, that I will be able to go with my
children to Argentina? I was sure that I was dreaming, that it was not true.
I have no idea how I made it home and I thought, I should not say anything to Hans
because I was sure that it all was just wishful thinking and, if I say any thing about it, I
would just make a fool of myself. But when I came home, the news of my success with
the ambassador had preceded me. Hans asked, what happened, because Mr. Feder
had left a message for me to come to the committee at once. He had heard the good
news. Now I was certain, that it was not a dream.
Those days following May 17th 1946 were very hectic days indeed. Pictures had to be
taken and Hans wrote out a paper to permit me to take the children. When I brought the
permission to the embassy, Dr. Arce gave them right back to me and asked me if I did
not know that papers like that, have to be notarized. How could I have known? But I
learned. Finally, finally on the 29th of May 1946 I received for the second time our visa
for Argentina. The first time, in May of 1941, in Kobe, Japan when the ambassador
turned the papers over to me, he pointed out what he had written in his own handwriting
on the bottom of the llamada. La Señora Rogozinski no pago nada por la visa ni para
los tramites. Ella tendra que pagar para esto in Buenos Aires. (Mrs. Rogozinski did not
pay for the visa nor for any transactions. She will have to pay for them in Buenos Aires)
And he signed it and put his seal on it. He told me, to be sure to remember it.
If you think that my troubles were over, wrong again. My troubles had just begun, but I
was not alone with this affliction. The only transportation available was American ships
going from Shanghai to San Francisco. Only those refugees with valid American visas,
and these were very few, were allowed to go with them. We, and there were quite a few
of us, who had visas to go to South and Central America, needed transit visas from the
USA and were not able to get them. We all waited and when I say waited, it did no
mean that we were sitting at home waiting for the phone to ring and to be told that, all is
well, come and get it. No, every week we went to the American consulate, stood in a
long line for hours and when our turn came, we could ask if our transit visa had been
approved, I always got a no for an answer. All our papers were stored at the American
consulate. The way the consulate personnel treated us did not make our situation
better, they treated us like trash.
During the time we were waiting for the transit visa, we were several times approached
by nice Catholic nuns. All they wanted from us, was to become Catholics. In exchange
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for that, they promised us visas to Australia with some money to start our living there.
As you know, I had become an agnostic; but that was something I could not bring
myself to do. I told them that I have lost my belief; but I was born Jewish and so were
my children and we will remain Jewish. Never did we regret not having converted to
Christianity, I personally think, that I could not have lived with myself. Now back to our
waiting.
We waited 5 months for it and then it came like a bomb that fell on me on October the
2nd 1945. It was a very mild October morning and I won't forget that day. I was giving
my children their breakfast, when there was a knock on the door. I told whoever it was,
that the door was open and to come in. In comes Richard Lewy, he too was a refugee
and had lived even in the Pingliang Heim and later in this Heim, so I had known him for
many years. He had a newspaper in his hands and pointed to a small article that he
had encircled and said that I should read it – that it may be of interest to me. It was
indeed, After reading it, I fainted. It just was too much for me. I don't know the precise
words any more and I have not saved the announcement, I can only describe its
contents: The Argentine Immigration Department in Buenos Aires has recalled their
Embassador Dr. Jose Arce from their Embassy in Shanghai. As of this moment all
entrance visas to Argentina have been cancelled. Those people with visas from Dr.
Jose Arce feeling that they are entitled to their visa, should reapply to the current
Consul. This was basically what was written in that article. After that I needed to recover
one day, to say the least. I was completely washed out. We were so helpless, we were
so completely in the hands of others to decide and did decide what to do with us. Be it
to go somewhere or not to go. Wether to live or to die. Nothing had changed after the
war. We were the same poor schnooks as before, with no future and without any
influence over it. I became terribly depressed. The thing that depressed me the most
was, that I started realizing that all the years before and during the war, we had no
power over our lives. We were put into a situation that left us helpless like little babies.
Others made decisions for us, like, if they would not feed us, we would starve. We were
longing to get out of that predicament and had hoped that when the war was over, all
that would change, that we would be the masters of our own future and not be
dependant on any one else any more. It had not changed and I felt bitter and lost.
The following morning I picked myself up and went to the committee. There were a lot
of unhappy people there with the same problem as I had. It turned out that the good Dr.
Arce had given out visas to people who had paid large sums of money for them. It was
just like before the war, the Germans took away the bulk of the goods from the Jews
and, what was left over, somebody else took away. You see, nothing had changed.
When I got into the office of Mr. Feder, he showed me a list of 81 names, his name was
included, they all had visas to go to Argentina. I asked him if Mr. Jordan knew the new
consul, but he told me that he did not, but he was trying to get in touch with the new
consul and see what he could work out. In the mean time I should wait for a few days. I
went home and I started thinking. I had to do something, I had to take things into my
own hands and not wait that someone else should work out another way for us. I had to
cut loose from the trap we were in for so long. What do I have to lose? I thought, the
worst thing that could happen was that we would not be able to go to Argentina. I had
tried my luck with Dr. Arce and succeeded, I will try my luck with the new consul and
should I fail this time, then I would have to find other ways to get out of that spider web
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we were entangled in. I thought it over for one more day and on October the 5th l946, I
went to see the new consul.
First I had to go to the American Consulate to get my papers back. It took a long time
until it was my turn. I asked the vice-consul for my papers in order to get a new visa
from the Argentinean Consulate. She said to me, "you know that if you take your papers
out from here, we will not be able to work on them." So I said: "Well, do you recognize
the visa of Dr. Jose Arce? No, she said. "So you would not work on my papers any way!
" I shouted back at her. I was angry, I was so angry that I did not know what I was
capable of doing at that time. This woman, I felt at that time, represented all the evil
people that hated us because we were Jews and they thought of us like stupid nothings
on this earth. She enjoyed seeing us in such a difficult situation. She handed me my
papers and I said against my better judgement, because I did not believe it myself. "I
will be back in about a half hour and bring you my new visa!" She burst out laughing as
if to say, that's what you think. Any way, I was worked up now and I was going to show
them. But my heart became heavier with each step I took toward the embassy. As I said
before, the Argentine embassy was only one block away from the American embassy.
I arrived at the Embassy. In the lobby there was a large desk occupied by a male
Chinese secretary. The waiting room to the left was occupied by many of our people
and I supposed that they were there for the same reason that I was. I addressed the
secretary in Spanish, he answered in French. He tried to explain to me that he did not
speak Spanish or English, only Chinese or French. I insisted in Spanish to see the new
consul, because I had a legal right to go to Argentina and that I had a llamada from my
parents and bla, bla, bla. I really don't remember all the things I said and I became loud
and I did not care. Because this I felt was my last chance and I was going to make sure
that I would do every thing in my power, to get out of Shanghai. I felt at that time, that I
had to prove something, to prove that we were human beings, that we could think for
ourselves and that we should not be manipulated like just anything. To tell you the truth,
I did not really know what went through my mind, I think, that I was just airing out my
terrible anger against G"d and the whole world. As I became noisier, the door to the
consul's office opened and out came the new consul. I knew him, he used to be Dr.
Arce's secretary; his name was Rafael Fernandez. I had some dealings with him when I
brought in our pictures and Hans's permission to take the children with me to the
Embassy. I don't know if he recognized me right then and there; but I continued to let
go of my words in the same noisy voice. He told me to quiet down and guided me into
his office. Now I was sitting in his office in front of him with the large desk between us
and he asked me what it was that I was so upset about.
I don't know my exact words; what I do know is that I did some very fast talking, I hardly
let him get a word in edgewise. I told him that I had waited for my transit visa from the
American embassy and that now they were willing to give it to me, the visa was
cancelled. I told him that I have a llamada from my parents in Buenos Aires and that it
was about time that I left Shanghai with my children. So he said, if you have a llamada,
your visa is good and he asked me to see the llamada. He said that the llamada was 5
years old, so I told him the same story about it not being my fault that World War 2
broke out and I could not leave and had I not waited long enough and I wanted to join
my parents now. And then he saw that the llamada had called for only one son and now
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it had two written in it. I said Dr. Arce had found it important enough to add my second
child to the llamada and to give me my visa. Then he said, your visa is alright, just tell
the American consul they should give you the transit visa because your visa is alright. I
told them already I said and they do not recognize the visa as valid any more. I have to
get another visa. And then he came out with another question: "How much did you pay
for your visa? " And then I remembered that Dr. Arce had made it a point to show to
me, what he had written on the bottom of the llamada. At the time I did not know as to
why he had done that; but now I knew, he really had wanted to help me. Now I pointed
it out to the new Consul. He read it and said your visa is legal and the Americans
should give you their transit visa for it. We went back and forth like that and I insisted on
a new visa. He finally gave up and said, I will give you another visa. He called in the
secretary and told him in French to bring the seal. I finally quieted down and sat
amazed watching the consul stamping in a new visa on the llamada and signing it. He
gave me the papers and I asked, can I read what it says? He replied, sure. I read the
visa and his signature and I can not describe my feelings at that moment. I remember
thanking and asking him when I left, if I could take something to his family in Buenos
Aires. My only thought was when I was on my way to the American embassy. I have
done it! I have done it!
When I arrived back at the Embassy, most of our people who were there before, had
left already and I went right to the counter. The woman that had attended me before,
took care of me now too. I handed her my papers and told her that they could continue
to work on my transit visa and that I hoped it would not take too long for me to get it, as
I had waited long enough already. "Did you get another visa?" she asked me and I
said:" Yes, here it is." and I showed it to her. She looked at it and not believing it and
went around showing it to the other ladies there and then she went to the phone and
called the Argentine consulate to verify the visa. What did she think? Did she really
think that I had forged the visa in the half-hour I was gone? Boy, oh, boy, was I angry.
From the embassy, I went directly to the committee. When I told them about getting a
new visa, they all were elated, thinking that perhaps the others, who had bought their
visas, may have a slight chance to get new visas too? Unfortunately it did not turn out
that way. There only was one more elderly lady, I forgot her name, she too had a
llamada made out by her son in Buenos-Aires in 1946, received a new visa. This time I
spoke with Mister Jordan. I told him of my fear, that if we waited too long for our
departure from Shanghai, my third visa may be cancelled again. So I told him that we
must find a way for us to get out as soon as humanly possible. He agreed with me
wholeheartedly; but did not know a way to realize it. I went home and was breaking my
brains to find a way out. And so were all my friends.
A few days later, our friend Franz'l Fischer came up with an idea. He had found out,
that there were airplanes flying out of Shanghai to Manila and from Manila to
Amsterdam. There was another stopover somewhere else; but I don't remember where
it was. From Amsterdam we would have to take another aircraft with several stopovers
to Buenos-Aires, the whole thing was very, very complicated. I went to the committee
and spoke again to Mr. Jordan. He said that it was a possibility, but he also said to me
whether I realized, that for the money it would cost to send us by airplane around the
world, they would be able to send four or five families out of Shanghai to different
destinies. He said he could not justify to his superiors such a move. The answer was
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no. I reminded him of what had happened five years before with mister Berman from
the HIAS. He too had told me that he could not do it and that is why I was still in
Shanghai and I asked him if he wanted to repeat the same mistake Berman had made.
I went home again, but I had lost all my hopes of ever achieving to get to Argentina. I
think, it was that same evening, that my friends Franz'l, Georg, Kiki and Edy had put
their heads together and then came to me with their offer. They had decided to go to
the committee to tell them that they would come up with and pay the difference it would
cost to send us via airplane to our destiny.
Those were the kind of friends we had made in Shanghai. In the meantime, unknown to
me, Mr. Jordan had called that evening his staff together and had told them all of my
difficulty and had brought the airplane proposal to a vote. As it turned out, they all voted
in favor of our going via airplane and that as soon as possible. It was after 10pm that I
was notified, by a messenger from Mr. Jordan, that we were going to be sent out of
Shanghai the way I had proposed it. I should come the next morning to the committee,
so that we could start with our arrangements.
At the committee I was told that I have to make the arrangements by myself, and the
first thing I did was going to the airline that had transportation to Manila and Holland. I
left with them all our information, about going to Argentina. My documents I still left
them at the American Embassy. Maybe, maybe they would still shock me with a visa?
They told me that they would figure out for me how to travel and how much it would
cost; but I have to give them a little time, as the transportation via the air was not yet
routine.
These were the times for news, every day something different. This news was that the
first French boat, the "Andre Lebon," was coming from France to Shanghai, it was the
first boat to land from Europe after the war. Maybe, there was a possibility for us to go
with it to France and from France to Argentina. I rushed to the committee to tell them,
after all, I was not too anxious to have them spend that much money on us alone if
there was another way to go. They agreed with me and so I went to the American
embassy, picked up my papers and started working on a transit visa via France. If I had
troubles before, they were nothing compared to the troubles I started having now.
All my documents consisted of:
#1.
My French "Sauve Conduit" which was given to me at the foreign police in
Marseilles in 1939. On it was written that it was good for a trip to Argentina and to
Shanghai.
#2.
Mike's, Leon's and my "birth certificates."
#3.
The "llamada" send to me by my parents from Argentina in 1941. We were in the
year 1946.
The fact is, that thinking about it now I have to laugh. What did I know in my naivete,
that documents become worthless after a certain time! I had no idea and nobody told
me about it. When I went the first time to Kobe, with my "llamada" I had a Paul Komor
Passport and at the time it was recognized in China and, I thought, the world over, as a
legal document. But after the war, the Komor organization had disappeared. But even
with that Passport, the Consul in Kobe stamped the visa onto the "llamada." Then Dr.
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Jose Arce, again stamped the visa onto the "llamada"; but wrote down on it, that I
possess of a "French Souve Conduit" valued to travel with to Argentina. The Chinese
foreign police stamped our exit visa on the back of the "Sauve Conduite" in the month
of June 1946 and the American consulate had kept all my papers without any question.
Now tell me, how could I know that I was in trouble? But big trouble was in store for me.
The French Consulate had just opened its doors for business, after the war. I went to
them with all my papers and asked for a transit visa to go via Marseilles to Argentina.
The first thing they did, they took away my "Sauve Conduit" and told me that I had no
right to use it any more. They told me, that that document was 7 years old and that it
only had a value for one single year. I don't think that anyone can feel or even imagine
my anguish in this situation. I did not know what to do. I explained and showed them,
that on my llamada was written that I have this French document and need it to get into
Argentina. But they did not want to give it back to me. All my begging and crying did not
help me a bit. They refused to let me have it. They explained to me, that I would need a
different passport in order to receive a transit visa from them. They also told me that
they would give me a separate passport for Mike, since he was born in France and
considered a French national.
Dr. Arce had sealed the picture of the three of us on the llamada, making it sort of a
passport. Come to think of it now, I really don't understand how we made it out of
Shanghai with the messy papers we had. I did not move away from the French
Consulate, I told them, not without my Sauve Conduit. Finally, they stamped "INVALID"
across the whole document and returned it to me. I went back to the committee to
figure out my next steps.
While all these things were going on, we received an affidavit of support from my aunt
Toni and uncle Tobias from Pittsburgh, Pa. They also send me $25.- in the same
envelope. My aunt and uncle were very nice to us. In another letter, later on, again we
got $25.- from them. As I had mentioned before, I did not feel like going there and I was
too much involved now, to start over again with new problems. Besides, I had seen and
felt the way the Americans treated us Jews with their anti-Semitism. (I must say, that I
really saw in all the consulates and offices whereever I had to go, only anti-Semitism.) I
am not so sure, that it was only in my mind. So I left the affidavit on one side, to be
used only if I would not succeed getting to Argentina.
I needed a new passport. Since we were stateless in China, I needed to get the
passport from the Chinese government. For that one needs to have 20 established
Chinese businessmen as guarantors. Where would I find twenty Chinese
businessmen? I did not even know one! I was sent to the UNRA headquarters. They
were very helpful. First they called the French consulate to find out whether central
UNRA would allow them to issue a paper and call it an UNRA Passport. Given that,
would the consulates accept it and issue a transit visa for us? After calling back and
forth, the man from the UNRA went with me to the American consulate, to see what
could be done. The American consulate decided to accept it. I think that when they saw
me again there, they were afraid that I would spend another day there and pester them.
I think they had enough from me, they would give in to anything. While the UNRA was
working out a plan for my new passport, the French consulate asked me to bring a
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photo of Mike alone in order to prepare his own travel paper. To leave with the "Andre
Lebon" for France became impossible. That boat left in November and we would not be
ready by a long shot. All that I had to do at the time was to get all my papers in order
and to receive a transit visa. This is effortlessly written on paper; but the running around
to get them ready, is not so easy. Finally I had the papers all together and went to the
French consulate for my transit visa. I was not through with them yet. More problems
arose.
Now they decided that they would only give me a transit visa, if I could produce a
reservation on a boat from Marseilles to Buenos Aires. They were afraid, that we would
remain in France. You see, even after the war nobody wanted us Jews – the few who
were left. I sometimes thought that I could read their mind and what I read was: "Too
bad, that Hitler did not kill all the Jews, he should have been allowed to finish his job." I
am sorry, but that is what I so very often saw written on their faces. Back to the
committee, what can we do now? Mr. Jordan said, that he would send a telegram to the
committee in Marseilles, to get from them a reservation for us on a boat to Buenos
Aires, real or faked. Telegrams went back and forth and we got a faked reservation on
a boat. In the meantime it was already beginning of December, the "Andre Lebon" had
left Shanghai already. Another ship was coming, the "Marshall Joffre" and this boat was
supposed to leave on Tuesday December 17th. We got our reservations on that boat to
go to Marseilles. Again I went with all my papers to the French consulate to get our
transit visa. It was now the 9th of December, there was only 8 days left for us to leave
and still no transit visa. Another problem arose.
The French consul looked at the exit visa which was stamped on the "invalid Sauve
Conduit," which had expired at that same day. It was given to me on the beginning of
June and was valid for only 6 months. He said that he was sorry, but he could not give
me a transit visa without having a valid exit visa. I ran to the UNRA asking for help. The
same man who had helped me to get my new passport was attending me. (I am very
sorry to have forgotten his name. He was such a big help to me and was such a nice
guy.) He told me, that it takes one week for the foreign police to give them the exit
visas. He took care of exit visas for refugees and other people wanting to leave China.
It worked that way, he explained to me. He would take the passports and other papers
to the foreign police on Tuesday of this week and pick up those papers completed with
the exit visa on Tuesday of the following week. The day I was there was Monday
December the 8th. There was no time to go through the normal procedure. He advised
me to go the following morning to the foreign police and explain to them my dilemma.
Actually he was sure that they would not do it for me. He said, if they would not do it, to
come back to them and they would try, to do something, maybe they could pull some
strings. But first, I should try it alone.
Tuesday, December 9th, 1946, was a gloomy day; it just felt like my disposition, very
low. While I was on my way to the foreign police it started to rain and that did not help
me one iota. I was very worried of what was going to happen now. Would I get the exit
visa? And if I did not get it, we would miss the deadline and not be able to leave on the
17th. There was no announcement of any other boat coming in from France at that
time. What if a new order came from Argentina, canceling all the new visas issued by
Business Representative Rafael H. Fernandez? What would we do then? All these
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questions were wandering around in my head and I had no answer for them. Then I
arrived at the foreign Police department and found my way to the right department.
The department looked like a large school classroom. Coming in to the room to my
right, was a large bench where people were sitting and waiting. To my left, was a large
counter and behind that counter stood a European man, receiving the papers people
brought in. He turned out to be a Frenchman. Behind him on both sides at the wall were
about 12 desks with young girls working at them. Far in the back was a desk twice as
large as the desks by the walls and behind that desk sat a fat Chinese man. He was
dressed in real Chinese clothes. A silk robe with a little round silk cap above his head
and a long braided pony tail hanging over his right shoulder. His face was
characteristically Chinese. He was not mixed with any other race: he was pure. He had
a distinguished moustache, very thin, winding around his mouth, going down
overlapping his chin. In my eyes he was ugly. I spoke to the French man and told him
that I needed my exit visa on the same day, because my boat was leaving on the
December 14th (I lied to him) and I still had to get my French transit visa. He told me
that I have to come the next week on Tuesday and I would get the exit visa, he refused
to listen to any reasoning. We debated for a while and I raised my voice, trying to make
him understand why I could not wait until next week Tuesday. His boss, the fat Chinese
in the back, called the Frenchman to his desk and talked with him. When He came
back, he told me to go to see his boss and I went over to talk to him. He invited me very
politely to sit down in front of his desk and our conversation began. He did not speak
any English, only a broken French and so did I. We got along very well with our broken
French and I tried to explain to him why I needed the exit visa the same day. And he, in
a very nice way tried to explain to me that there were rules and these rules stated that
the documents have to be left at the foreign police to be checked out. He said that I had
to be checked out before they could issue that kind of visa. He understood me very well
and to tell the truth, I understood him well by the lusty way he looked me over. Don't
forget, I was only 25 years young, I was not a beauty; but not bad looking either. He
was very polite and he was not just any regular clerk; but well educated, well groomed,
his hands were as white and soft as a girl's. Even his fingernails had nail polish. I
remember wondering, is that what the men do these days? This man had never done
any manual or any physical work in his life. Then he mentioned that maybe rules could
be bend a little if the necessity arose and the parties involved agreed to it. He got up
from his chair and came around the desk close to me and started to fondle my arm. I
was scared at first; but then I recollected that we were not alone in the room and he
could not do anything to me there. So I turned around to face him and smiled. He then
went back to his seat and became very professional. He said for me to leave my
documents there and to come back in the afternoon at 5:15 p.m. He made sure that I
understood him right, showing me the time on his wristwatch and on the clock which
was hanging on the wall, 5:15 p.m. I left the office and stopped by the door to check the
hours they were open, as I had suspected, the office closed at 5:00 p.m.
I left the police station with a very heavy heart. I was thinking. "What am I going to do
now? Hans will have to come with me, and I will go at 4:30 with him." I was desperate
and the weather did not help, it was a downpour – raining cats and dogs. When I
arrived home, I was soaking wet. I spoke to my dear husband about it and begged him
to come with me for my safety. He laughed at me and told me to go by myself. He told
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me in so many words that I was leaving him and taking his children with me and he was
not even sure, that I would bring him over to Argentina. There was nothing I could do or
say to change his mind. To tell the truth, I really did not expect anything else from him,
why should he act now any different than all the years we had spent together? This was
just the way he treated me all along. Of course I thought, that in a predicament like the
one I was in now, I would have thought that even a stranger would help me; but not he.
I was very hurt – deep inside, but was used to him hurting me all the time. Many times I
wanted to divorce him; but my friends held me back. They said that I should look
around and see what happened to the broken up families. They were right, the children
were put into children's room, the fathers ended up with the bachelors, and the mothers
with other single women. There was no more privacy. At least, they said, the children
had their parents together. It was beneficial at least to them, to stick it out for the time
we were forced to live under such circumstances.
I was looking around to find any of our friends; but after we were freed by the
Americans, they all had found some jobs and they were not in the Heim. I could not
even ask anybody else to come with me in that lousy weather, it was so bad I would not
even send a dog out of the house. There were no taxis, and if there were, I did not have
any cash for such extra expenses. No, I walked to the bus, which took me to Bubbling
Well Road, and there I took another bus to the police station. Again I was drenched at
arrival. I was early, it was on the wall clock 4:20 p.m.
The fat Chinese boss saw me coming in and motioned to the clock and to his
wristwatch – with angry eyes – that I was early. My plan was, that if he would not give
me my documents with the exit visa before everybody left, that I too would leave so we
would have to miss our boat on the 27th, I was already used to new problems coming
up, so what's new? As I was sitting and waiting for the time to pass with despair in my
heart, imagine who came in? None else, then the gentleman from the UNRA, whose
name I unfortunately forgot. He sat down next to me and I quickly told him all the
happenings. He went over right away to the counter and looked through a basket filled
with papers. He picked out my papers, waved with them to me, returned the papers to
the basket and came back to me. Then he told me, that the exit visa was stamped on
my papers, it only needed the signature of the chief of police, as did all the papers in
the basket. At that moment a Chinese messenger came in and took the basket and
walked out of there. The UNRA man told me, that this employee was taking the
documents to the chief of police for his signature. He said to me: "Don't be afraid, I
have seen your papers going out and I will check if they are signed, as soon as they
come in. I am here to pick up the papers I have left here 8 days ago. If he gives me my
papers before he gives you yours, I will sit here and wait for you." We looked over to the
Chinese boss at his desk. If looks could kill, I would not be sitting here writing about it
and my friendly protector who stayed with me, neither. He was furious and you could
see his outrage written on his face. At 4:50 on the clock the messenger returned with
the basket. My friend went right over to check the documents. Again he picked out my
document and waved them at me, put them back into the basket and came back to me.
All this with the boss looking on, I thought he would explode.
The Frenchman at the counter took the basket with all the documents to his boss and
left them there. The Chinese chief then waved to my protector to come over to him and
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gave him the documents he had come for. My friend returned to me and sat down next
to me, we were waiting. At 5:00 p.m. every employee left their workstation, only the
chief, my friend and protector, and I remained in the room. When he saw that my friend
was not going to leave without me, he called me over. Never have I seen so much
hatred and malice in a face, directed toward me as he practically threw my documents
to me. I thanked him politely, I even bowed to him as it was customary in China and left
the office followed by my protector friend. This is one day in my life in Shanghai that will
always be carved in my brain, as alive as the day it happened.
Wednesday the 10th, I still had to go to get our transit visa at the French consulate. No
problems, I couldn't believe it! This was not the way things happened to me, there had
to be something wrong; but every thing went all right. When I came home I took all the
papers out and put them on the table. Was it possible, that I had all my papers ready,
that we could leave Shanghai? One-week left for our departure, what could go wrong
now? On Monday the 16th, I had to go back to the committee to give thanks to
everybody and to bid farewell. Mr. Feder handed me an envelope with $150.- to be
used on our trip for whatever we needed. All the money I had now to take with me was
$250.-, the $50.- my aunt had sent me, we had saved $100 – from which Hans allowed
me to take half. With the money I received from the committee, I also received a letter
to the HIAS in Marseilles. Mr. Jordan joined us and as I was sitting there, I was
suddenly overwhelmed with what I was undertaking. I broke out crying. I saw myself
with 2 little children going to France with a faked reservation on a boat going to
Argentina – into war torn France. What could happen to us over there? Mr. Jordan said
that he could understand my worries and if I changed my mind about going and rather
wait in order to go together with my husband, it would be perfectly all right. He said the
magic word, my husband. "HE SURE WOULD BE A BIG HELP FOR ME." What did he
know about this husband of mine. I dried my tears, apologized for my fit of weakness,
thanked them, said my farewells and left. I never saw them again; but I am still very,
very thankful for all they did for me. My good wishes are always with them. May G"d
bless them wherever they are.
My friends threw a goodbye party for me. There were at least 30 people invited. My first
surprise party! It was held in our shower room, of all places. Tables were set up and lots
of food was served. We promised each other to try to get together again in 10 years.
We talked a lot and my heart became very heavy again as I realized that I had made
my best friends in Shanghai and was leaving them too. From Mary Backman I had not
heard any more. I had tried to reach her; but she was not with her boyfriend any more. I
had no way to locate her. I am sorry that I never heard from her again. She too was a
good friend.
Good-byes are very hard, specially when you have lived for many years in a community
like the one we lived in. I had wanted so badly to get out of Shanghai, that I did not
realize how difficult it would be to be separated from all those lovely people. We had
suffered and starved together, we fought and laughed and had good times together. As
a matter of fact, whatever was going on, it was together. Like a very large family and
this large family was breaking up now – starting with us. It was not easy.
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We were all ready, our bags were packed; but I had left out the teddy bear Leon had
gotten from Gerda Harpuder, she was Kiki's girlfriend at that time. It had belonged first
to her son Ralph who had outgrown it, and was happy to give it to Leon. I had put the
teddy bear in one of the bags at first. My baby Leon (he was almost 3 and 1/2 years old
at that time) was screeming like hell the night before we left until I unpacked and gave it
to him. Leon was used to sleeping with his teddy bear at night and carried it around the
whole day. I was afraid of losing the bear, which is why I packed it in the first place. I
told every body to help me not to forget the teddy bear. We forgot it!
MARSHALL JOFFRE ( to Argentina)
December 17, 1946, the day of our departure had arrived. It was very difficult to say my
good-byes to all the friends I had made over the years. Friends and neighbors were
lining up in the central lane of our Heim, to wave a last farewell to me. I had not known
until then how many friends I had. Many of them came to the pier were the "Mashall
Joffre" was anchored. Of course Georg, Kiki, Franzel, Edy, Loeffel, and Hans were
there until departure. They were all allowed to get on board and to see the ship. It really
was magnificent. Before the war she was a luxury ship and during the war she was
made over to be a hospital ship. It still was in the latter condition. Our cabin was very
large, with 10 bunk beds. It was used as a sickroom during the war. Three of these
bunk beds were on two sides of the walls, two were on the third wall, and two of the
bunk beds were in the center of the cabin. Since there was no other women, nor
children on board at the time, I took the beds by the outside wall, under the little
porthole, which was looking out to the sea. I tried out the top bed and I had a view of
the ocean. We all went around and checked out everything. We were very satisfied with
our findings. Naturally it was so, because after living in poverty for the last seven years,
this ship was luxury! My children went for the first time to a real rest room! Up to then, I
had carried their Nachttopf (night pot) back and forth to the latrine, since I did not let
them go there by themselves. My friends were treated to lunch on board so we could all
eat together. The food was delicious. Then it was time for Hans and my friends to leave
the boat and to say our last farewell. That was hard. All the thoughts in my mind were:
"Will I ever see my dear friends again?" I had my doubts about it and that made me
sad.
My children and I were standing together with other passengers on deck looking down
and waving to Hans and to our friends. I had not perceived how many people there
were with us until the ship left. I also did not know any other passengers at that time. I
had seen some Orthodox Jews on board; but I did not know who they were. These
Orthodox Jews started to sing and, on the quay, their friends returned their melancholy
singsong. I did not know, at the time, what the singing meant. I found out later, that it
came from the thirteen articles from Rambam with the age old hope calling "NEXT
YEAR IN JERUSALEM." It was so beautiful; but also very sad. Slowly, very slowly the
boat separated from the quay and was pulled by a pilot boat through the river. We
stayed on the deck until we could not hear the singsong from the quay and we could not
see any of our friends there more. Then I took my children and we went to our cabin.
We had not been back to the cabin during the whole day and it was evening already.
There were more passengers in our cabin: four very young Chinese Catholic novice
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nuns. They had taken the four beds in the center of the cabin and were putting up linen
for curtains around them. They could be in there without being disturbed by anyone
coming in or living in the same compartment. We started to unpack some of our things
and preparing the beds for the night. On my bed were some of the gifts my friends had
brought to me. I remember three of them very well. Georg had bought me my first 3 pair
of nylon stockings. He told me that he had bought them from some American soldiers –
they were not yet available in China. They lasted for a long, long time. They were much
stronger than the ones you buy now. Kiki brought me a gold chain with a Magen David
with the word Zion inscribed in it. I wore it for many years until I lost it somewhere in
San Francisco. From Franzl I got a box of exquisite candies. The children wanted me to
open the box, so they could have some. When I opened the box, I had a big surprise,
because in it was besides the candies a little box and in that box was a diamond ring.
Three Diamonds in a ring out of platinum. I am wearing the ring now for forty-five years,
constantly. When I later wrote my thanks to him and wrote to Hans about it, he asked
Franzl about it and said: "You bought my wife a diamond ring, set in platinum?" Yes,
Franzl said, and it is too bad that the diamond does not cover the whole finger, because
she deserves it. And he further said: "You don't appreciate the treasure you have in
your wife, you don't deserve her." It was Hans who told me about it later on; but I don't
remember under what circumstance.
Back to the boat. We were booked in second class. I think that we had one of the nicest
cabins on board and we certainly had the most compatible roommates. Besides that,
we also had a very comfortable dining room. I mention the dining room because, most
of the people on board going back to Europe, were in third and fourth class and I
learned that, first they had to stand in line to get their food at a counter and, then, eat it
standing up in the dining room. There were no chairs for them to sit on. Most of them
took their food out and ate it on the decks. Now it was time for us to go to eat our
dinner. I do not recall what we ate; but it was superb. After dinner we went for a walk on
deck and we made the acquaintance of some of the passengers. I found out that most
of the passengers, about 40 or 45 were Austrian Jews repatriating or returning to their
"homeland." A father and son, whom I knew, were going back to Poland trying to find
their family and business. There were lots of Italians going back home as they too had
been trapped during the war in Shanghai. Then I saw the Rosh Yeshiva (Jewish
seminary director) Rabbi Schmilovicz, his wife, two children and ten Yeshiva (Jewish
seminary) bocher (Yeshiva students), who were travel companions of ours also booked
in second class, until we reached Marseilles. There also was a Chinese Diplomat to the
Vatican on the boat. But I did not get to meet him personally. The boat was by no
means full, we were told that in Singapore there will be 2000 French soldiers coming on
board. When we finally went to our cabin to sleep, my poor little Leon started looking for
his teddy bear, would you believe we had left him behind? We had a miserable night.
Leon did not stop crying for his teddy bear. There was no way for me to calm him down,
I felt so sorry for my baby and for the poor nuns who had to loose heir first night sleep
due to my Leon's crying.
We found out, that there was a Jewish stowaway on board. He was hiding in one of the
lifeboats, but he came out in the evenings and joined us on deck. He was hungry and
we had to bring him from our food, whatever we could. I had a good excuse to take
food out of the dining room, I told them, when asked, that I needed it for my children to
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eat whenever they got hungry. The Rebbezin and everybody that knew about him
brought food for him. Obviously, we could not tell too many people about him. He had
enough food to eat during the whole trip, only his sleeping arrangements were not too
good. Many nights he slept till dawn on one of the long chairs on our deck.
I got along very well with the nuns, they were very sweet, always trying to help with the
children. They were watching Leon when he was sleeping during the day and I went
with Mike for a walk. I could not have had better baby sitters. The nuns spoke a little
English, I did not speak it any better. We made out fine. These four nuns stayed mostly
in the cabin praying and they also were preparing a little table with Christmas
ornaments they had brought with them. A week from the day we embarked was
Christmas Eve.
I had our lounge chairs set up close to those of the Yeshiva bochers and the Rebbezin.
The Rosh Yeshiva did not come out too much. He came out to look for Jews and
synagogues when we landed at any port. I guess he was sitting over the Gemarah
(bible commentary) in their cabin, studying. Two of the students were ultra orthodox.
Both of them were light blond and they did not have any Jewish features at all. They
wore long silk robes and usually they wore hats, at other times, when it got very hot,
round silk skullcaps and of course they had their long payes (ear-locks). Everything they
wore was in black. Also they wore little beards and moustaches. Since they were very
young, their facial hair was very thin and you could see their young faces through it.
Those two Yeshiva students were spending a lot of time playing chess with each other.
They never directed a word to me, not to any women. Other students, although they all
wore ear-locks, wore these behind their ears. With them I had long conversations.
After a few days we arrived in Hong Kong. Since we had a stop-over of twenty four
hours, I took a chance and went down with my children to see the town. I did not
venture too far from the boat, but in Hong Kong the city is surrounding the bay and it
seemed that we were right in the center of the city – At least that is how I remember it, I
may be wrong. Since it was before Christmas, the street merchants were selling all sort
of religious things and it occurred to me, that it would be nice to bring some of these to
my four young nuns. I bought two little crosses and two little emblems of Mary. These
were easy to be fastened to their Rosaries. I saved them until the 24th and in the
evening, I put them in their tiny little boxes – in which I had bought them – on their little
table. The happiness they displayed, how they hugged and kissed us, as if we had
given them a fortune. This was ample pay for me. It shows that you can make people
happy with little things, it is the thought that counts. They were wearing them all the
time during our voyage.
New passengers boarded in Hong Kong, Our cabin was now filled with six more people.
We had to give up one bed because the children went for half the price and now they
had to sleep together. It was not too bad, they put a barrier around the bed in order for
the children not to fall out of the bed. We had no complains. The newcomers were
young Chinese girls part of a group of acrobats. There were about 5 or 6 young men
with them, they were in separate cabins. Since they all were acrobats specializing in
contortion, gymnastics, trapeze, and tumbling. In order to keep in shape, they had to
practice every day. Our cabin was large, as I had mentioned before, so they all
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practiced, boys and girls in our cabin. We had some shows in our cabin. It was so
funny, to see our nuns watching them. They were constantly crossing themselves when
they saw some of the contortionists rehearse for their performance. Even I was
impressed with their act, I had never seen something like it and I was not a nun. They
seemed not to have any bones. I can not even try to explain the things they did. But it
sure was quite a show they put on.
Something was very strange, at least it seemed to me at the time. The nuns and the
acrobats were Chinese and they spoke Chinese; but they did not understand each
other. They were speaking different dialects. Finally our nuns had an idea on how to
communicate with the acrobats. They started writing with Chinese letters and, wonder!
the girls knew how to write and conversation was established. The written language
was the same; but the spoken dialect was completely unintelligible to each other. The
nuns came from Shanghai and the acrobats from Hong Kong.
On our way to Saigon, talking with the students, money changing came up. I had
already changed some of my money into Francs, because I had found out in Hong
Kong, that you could purchase everything much cheaper, if you had the currency of the
country to deal with. Since I did not know how many Francs I would get for a dollar and
I wanted to get the most out of it, I asked one of the stewards, with whom I was
brushing up my French, about it. He told me that it was 25 Francs for a dollar and that
he would change it for me. Now I was not born yesterday, and I knew that he would not
give me the right price, because he, like I, wanted to get the most out of it too. What I
did was not really kosher, but I told him:" you are crazy, or you must think that I am
crazy, I know, that they are changing the dollar for 34 franks." Then he remarked that it
was I who was crazy. He was not far off, as I really told him an amount that I took out of
the air. But we started bargaining and I ended up getting 29 franks to a dollar. I told that
to the students and they asked me to translate for them, as they too wanted to buy from
him. After we made these transactions, we became a little closer and they asked me,
when they found out that I spoke more than one language, to join them when we land in
other ports and to translate for them. They only spoke Hebrew and Yiddish, and it was
very difficult to get by in those ports with these two languages. As I said we were getting
closer, and I told them that I had lost my faith in G"d and in religion. How could our G"d,
any G"d, be it Jesus, Buddha, or any one of the G"ds people worship, look on, as
people "His people" were murdered by the millions. We had long and heated
discussions about it. They tried to convince me that I was wrong to feel that way, that
the Almighty in his wisdom knew what he was doing or what he was not doing and in
everything there was a reason. When I told them, that I could not believe that the
murder of innocent women and children could have a purpose and asked why were we
spared? Were we any better then those who perished? They had for an answer
everything. We were spared, to go on in this world, build a better world and become
better human beings. I could not win with them, and they could not convince me of their
rationalization on the happenings of the Holocaust. We went on with our discussions
about it and certainly became good friends.
It was interesting to see how they observed Kashrut (observing ritual diet codes) on the
boat. They had brought lots of boxes of sardines and dry salamis (the salami came
from the USA) from Shanghai and in every port they bought more whenever they could
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get them. From the ship's kitchen they received boiled potatoes and eggs, fresh fruits
and vegetables. Also, after they inspected the kitchen and how bread was baked, its
ingredients, they took the bread too. During the whole journey, they had no meat
besides the kosher salamis they had brought from Shanghai. But they got along very
well. Then there were other things I observed, the Yeshiva bocherim (students),
besides those two ultra orthodox, were always clean-shaven; but suddenly somewhere
in the middle of the ocean, I noticed that they all were growing beards and I asked them
about it. They explained to me, that they were not shaving either, That they had some
acid powder, I forgot the name of that powder, that when they spread it over their
beard, it burned away the hair that had grown there. In the middle of the ocean, they
had run out of that powder, and, that was why they were growing beards. When later in
one of the ports they found the powder, on the following morning, they all came out
clean-shaven, with the difference that all of their faces were red as tomatoes. When I
asked them, they explained that the powder they had purchased in the port, was not as
mild as the one they had brought with them from Shanghai and not knowing it, it almost
burned their faces.
We were on high sea between Hong Kong and Saigon, when I was walking with my
children on deck, when my Little Leon pulled himself away from my hand and started
running over the deck, as fast as his little feet could run. I could trust Mike, he was eight
year old; but Leon? He was a little devil. I did not know what he was going to do in the
next second. There were 2 nuns sitting on the other side of the deck and one of them
snatched him and held him for me. As I arrived without breath I heard her saying to the
other nun: "Ay, que mono es este niño, mira, este cabello rubio y estos ojos, que
hermoso es." She was saying how beautiful my blond little boy was, they were speaking
Spanish. In Spanish I thanked her for holding onto Leon for me. When they heard me
talking in their language, they fell over me, embracing and hugging me and they told
me, that they had not heard a Spanish word spoken other than with the two fathers and
between themselves for the last seven years. They introduced me immediately to the
two padres. One of them was an older man, he had been, if I remember it right for
about 16 or 18 years deep in China on a Mission. The other padre was younger, about
35 or 36 year old. He and the two nuns were about 25 years old. Shortly before World
War 2 they had gone on a mission for only two years. They too were trapped by the war
and now they were returning, of all places, to Barcelona. We too became good friends
and I became their translator too.
We arrived in Saigon and when we, my children and I wanted to go off board, we were
stopped by the French border police, they did not want to let me land in Saigon. They
told me, that I was German and that no German was allowed to set foot in Saigon.
Again I had to do some quick talking. The captain of the ship was called and I told
them, that my son is a French citizen and I want to him to see the French colonies. I
don't know all the things I said; but finally they gave in and I was allowed to land there. I
went around with the Rabbi, his family and the students. We were looking for
Synagogues. But I can not remember if we found one in Saigon. We went around to do
some shopping and we found out, that we got more money for our dollars, then they
were paying in Saigon. When we returned to the ship, the steward who had changed
our money looked me up and told me that I had taken advantage of him. But he was
very good natured about it – he said that he was going to do to me the same thing – I
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got ahead of him. He sure was nice and when I needed money changed, I always went
to him, to the correct market price. I really brushed up my French during our journey
and, to tell the truth, we had a lot of fun. We had a two days stay in Saigon and every
day we went out looking and when we came back, the two reverends and the two nuns
were waiting for me to go out with them. With them we visited churches and also went
shopping. It was very interesting to go with both of the groups.
We left Saigon with 2000 more passengers, all soldiers going back home to France.
They were all in 3rd and 4th class and not allowed on the upper, our deck; but they sure
brought some life on board. In the evenings they were dancing and singing on the lower
deck and we all were watching them from our deck and enjoyed with them their delight
to be going home again. Between Saigon and Singapore we had a big New Years party
on board. It was specially celebrated by the soldiers on the lower deck. A lot of people
who had joined us as passengers in Saigon, mostly French, went down and danced
with the soldiers. Our acrobats did their act, which was absolutely great, and there were
singers and dancers, all performing on the lower deck. We were sitting on the upper
deck looking down. We had the best seats for the show.
One of the nuns name was Luisa, as I recall, she was the younger of the two. They
invited me to their cabin and one morning I took my kids and we went there. They had a
small cabin for two, one could hardly move in there. At first I thought that I was in the
wrong cabin when she opened the door, because I was used to see them in their habits
and their heads covered with them. As we came in they covered their heads with some
towels, in order for us not to see their hair. I asked them not to cover their hair, these
girls were actually beautiful. Then I asked them how come that their hair was not
shaven off, as I had always thought that, that was, what they were doing. They told me
that usually it is done in most of the convents; but in their convent, they had decided to
cut the hair only short. One time, I had left my Leon with the nuns to watch him, when I
approached them to pick him up, I saw that the nun had taken her crucifix and tried to
have Leon kiss it. Leon took the cross with Jesus on it and he looked it over and then
he let it go and said no. I went over to her and I told her what I had observed. I told her
that if she wanted us to remain friends, not to do that any more. I had told them that we
are Jewish. She promised me she would not do it any more; but I caught her once
more, they could not help themselves, as that was what they were supposed to do, they
had to proselytize. It did not help, getting angry at them and I figured that it was only a
short time we were with them.
It was very interesting to see how friendships developed. When the nuns and also the
padres walked on our deck and came by where I was sitting with my children, they
stopped to talk with me. As I said, I was sitting close to my Jewish friends and there
were no more chairs available for my Christian friends to sit down. At first, one of the
students stood up and brought his chair to one of the nuns. Then another one got up
and did the same thing for the other nun. By the railing the two ultra-orthodox students
were sitting, a little table between them, absorbed in a chess-game. Now the older
padre, he evidently was also a chess buff, stood there watching them play. Again one
of the yeshiva students got up and brought him his chair to sit down while watching the
game. This went on for days like that. It did not take long, for the old padre to be invited
by the ultra-orthodox Chassid to invite the catholic padre to join them in a game of
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chess. It was an exquisite picture, to see the two men of noticeable, opposite creed and
faith, to sit there for hours together playing. I was very sorry, that I did not have a
camera to take a picture of them. I saw one Frenchman sneaking by and taking a
picture of them. Most of the time we were all now sitting together and talking, with me
translating. We discussed everything, of different points of view on religion and other
thing's of interest. It was a most enjoyable time.
We arrived in Singapore and went looking for synagogues and we found one and spent
a nice time with our people there. Coming back I went with my nuns and padres to visit
the opposite flock. All in all, it was a big switch from the life in Shanghai, a change of
doing, of getting to know other people, of learning new points of view, of dialogues
about everything that was going on. It was all so challenging. It was as if I had walked
out of the dark in to the light. I started life, I felt, that finally I was counted for myself and
not treated as a thing, a poor refugee any more. The children were loved by all and they
too enjoyed every minute of the journey. It was not easy for me to keep my children
close by on every stopover we made in the different ports. Mike was very good, he
always stayed close to me, but I had my problems with Leon. He certainly was a little
devil. After all, he was only three and a half years old. I had to find a way to keep him
close to me. He was always running away with me running after him.
We arrived in Colombo and did our usual things there, as we did in all the other ports,
never had I seen so many synagogues and churches as on that journey. We also
looked for bargains, as it seemed to me, that in Colombo things were less expensive
then in the other ports we had landed before, so I decided to get a few things for my
mother and my sisters. I bought two little black elephants made of ebony, one for my
mother and one for me, and two bracelets one for Rosa and one for Betty. They were
made out of silver in filigree, very pretty. It was a lot of fun to go with the nuns. They
were so excited with all the things that could be bought with just a few pennies. I too
was excited; but they had been deep in the jungle for seven years. I think, of what they
told me, they were even worse off in Indo China, then we were in Shanghai. They had
nothing to laugh about, as they were with the poorest of the poor Chinese peasants,
with no support coming to them during the war. On the other hand, they went to Indo
China because of their missionary assignment, to bring their religion to the Chinese
population and that was noncompulsory. They were not persecuted as we were and
they did not run away from abuse; but no matter how you slice it, they too were
suffering and were so happy to go home again. At least, they had a home to go to.
After we left Colombo I was entrusted with a secret from my friends, the students. I
don't remember if it was 5 or 6 of the students, that wanted to leave the boat in Port
Said to make their way to Palestine. They had addresses of Jews in Cairo, who would
help them to get to Palestine. I don't have to tell you, that the British did not allow Jews
to enter Palestine, even after the War was over. The plan was that they would leave the
boat as we did in every port, leaving any baggage behind, but would not return to the
boat. Their baggage would be divided between all of us in our group. Then, after we
would leave Djibouti, I would be given 2 suitcases and so would all the others. In
Marseilles we would turn the suitcases over to some people they would assign to us
and leave them with them. We were all very excited and looking forward to it, hoping
and wishing that they would succeed in their endeavor.
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We landed in Djibouti, a French colony in Somalia. Djibouti, a little village right by the
frontier of Ethiopia and a small port in the Gulf of Aden. It was at that time a dirty, sandy
little village. Maybe it is still that way. We were in search of our kinsmen. After asking
around we were directed through sandy, dusty roads, through a village with the poorest
huts I had ever seen and one of those huts about twice as large as the others, was
pointed out as the synagogue.
We entered and I could not see anything because we came in from the bright midday
sun and my eyes had to get used to the darkness. The first thing that I realized, was the
floor was sand. There was no floor, not in the sense that we know. Not wooden, not
cemented, just sand, the same as on the roads which we had walked through. It was a
large hall with some benches against the walls. I was looking for the sanctuary and had
a hard time finding it. There was a wooden box at one wall, with the eternal light above
it and in it was a small Torah. In one corner of the room were little boys and one adult
and they were studying. We got a little closer to them and I spoke to the teacher, asking
for the Rabbi. He asked us who we are and I told him. He got up and was so surprised
and enthusiastic, to have such a great Rabbi from the Mirer Yeshivah in their humble
synagogue. It turned out, that he spoke quite good Hebrew and I did not have to
translate any more. Then he explained to us, that the "Chacham" had gone away for
the week and that he would be so terribly sorry, to have missed such honored guests.
He said something to the children and send them away, I did not understand what he
was saying, I thing, he spoke Arabic to them. The Rabbi and the students started
looking at the books the children were studying from. The few books they had to learn
from were ripped, dirty and lots of pages were missing. They then checked the
Chumashim (the Bibles) and the regular prayer books. They all were outdated and in
the same condition as the books the children studied from. This synagogue was by far
the poorest I have ever seen in my life. They were orthodox Jews, they even had a
women's section (Mechiza – division between the women's and the man's section). In
the corner, where the children had studied, was a ladder that went up to a little balcony,
with curtains, that were dirty rags. The whole synagogue was unbelievable poor, a
glorified barn and still, they held regular services and the children learned and were
brought up according to Jewish heritage.
Little by little the temple filled up with young and old congregation members. The news
of the great Rabbi visiting the community had gone through the village quick as a fire.
They came in their best clothing, they brought refreshments and they were like children
on Chanukah, receiving the biggest gifts. There were a few of the elders that came and
they also spoke Hebrew. They were not white as we are, but they also were not really
black either. It was like a color of bronze and their features were European. They were
beautiful and had a very good education, considering the poverty they lived in.
There was a young couple, she was 15 and he was 16 years old. They were married for
2 years and she was worried because she did not have a child yet. They told me all that
while she was playing with my Leon. I went with Mike, to the table where the food was,
because he was hungry and I left my Leon with the young couple for a few moments.
When I came back for Leon, he was gone and so was the young couple. We looked
everywhere; but could not find them. I became desperate. I did not know the name of
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the young couple and did not know where to look for them. The teacher asked the
people there if they had seen my baby with anyone leaving the temple. Finally, there
was one person who thought that he had seen them. Now we had to find out in which
hut they lived and then we all went there, the Rabbi, the students, some of the
congregants, and the teacher. My Leon was there all right, they were feeding him
sweets and he had a ball. They could not and did not understand, why I was so worried.
They assured me that they would have brought him back, after they had fed him. Any
way, I had enough excitement for a day and could not wait, to be safely on board again.
When we got back to the temple I heard Rabbi Schmilowitz and his yeshivah bocherim
discussing something very important. They offered the congregation a trunk full of
Seforim, (all sorts of prayer books and books for learning) which they had in the bottom
of the boat with their baggage. Now we had to hurry back and a lot of the young and the
old came with us. The boat was to leave Djibouti at midnight and it was already late in
the afternoon. I had a lot of fast-talking to do to get the order of the captain to unload
the trunk; but we did it. The Rabbi promised them, that he would see to it that they
would get all the books and Tallithim (prayer shawls) they needed for their
congregation. What a picture it was, to see those men on land crying over the
magnificent gift they had received and waving to us as the ship left Djibouti. Some
incidents are carved into your heart never to be forgotten – this was one of them.
After our experience with my Leon in Djibouti, I had to do something to keep him close
to me, so that he should be able to run away from me. I cut out from a sheet of my bed,
something like a harness and sew it up by hand. I got 2 belts from the students and I
made a contraption that could hold Leon at 2 yards distance from me with me – holding
on to him. It worked; but my hands were getting red, blue and cut, from his trying to pull
away from me.
Now we were looking forward to our landing in Port Said. We were all very excited and
hoping that the students would succeed with their plan to leave the boat in Port Said
and to get into Palestine. As we were nearing the Gulf of Suez, rumors came up. The
British had closed Port Said and would not let any passengers land there. This was a
hard pill to swallow. But my friends, the Yeshiva Bocherim, came up with an answer to
this obstacle too. They figured that the crew would be able to leave the boat. We only
had to find a few crewmembers willing to give up their pass to them, for a nice
compensation. After searching for a while, they were found, and we hoped that all will
be going as planed. Before we entered the Suez Canal, announcements were posted
all over the boat, telling us that no one not even the crew was allowed to step of the
ship. The reason they gave was that a disease of some sort had broken out on the ship
and the British would not allow anybody on shore. That was the end of our dream. Our
hearts became very heavy as we entered the Suez Canal. We all spent the whole night
on deck as we were pulled with a pilot boat through the canal. It was a very clear night,
lit by the moon. We could see Mount Sinai far away. We were so close and still so far.
The Rabbi with the yeshivah bocherim started to sing again, the songs of longing and of
wanting to return to Jerusalem, the pain and the suffering of two thousand years in the
"Galut" (Diaspora) could be heard in their songs and we were all crying. Even our
friends, the priest and the nuns, did not keep a dry eye. Why, why were we so
dispersed in the world? Why, after the terrible things happening to our people, were the
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doors still closed to us? Are we not of flesh and blood like other people and did we not
deserve a home like all the others? All these questions we have asked for thousands of
years and after a third of our people were tortured and murdered by the Germans, we
still had no place to go. It seemed that the world had not learned anything from our big
tragedy. We did not know anything about any disease that was supposed to have
broken out on the boat. But, later in France, we learned that from the ship Andre Lebon,
the first one to leave Shanghai which had left about 2 weeks before we had left, had
made the same attempt as our students wanted to do. Some of then succeeded, but
some were caught by the British and that is what I believe was the reason for not letting
us land in Port Said. If there was a disease, why were we not stopped from landing in
Marseilles?! (We probably suffered from the "Jewish sickness." Actually, the Jews are
the carriers. They infect the Goyim (gentiles) who become sick, sick of the Jews). After
the ship landed in Port Said, the students still tried to find a way to get off to shore, but
there was no way, it was very well guarded. The rest of our journey was uneventful.
Only as we came close to Marseilles, we got excited. I for one, was worried about how
we would get to Buenos Aires. We had no booking on any boat, only the phony one and
that was on the ship "Campana" which was supposed to leave Marseilles on January
20-1947 and we landed there on Friday January the 17th.
We had already said our good-byes to all our friends on board the night before we
landed. The two Spanish nuns were crying and wanted me to promise them to come to
see them in their convent in Barcelona – if I ever got there for a visit. I tell you, to say
adieu to any friend, be it an old one, whom you have known all your life, or new ones,
like the ones I befriended on the Marshall Joffre, is very difficult.
We arrived in the morning, a very cold and gloomy day. It was the final port for the
Mashall Joffre and the hustle and bustle of the crowd leaving the ship, was
indescribable. Our group had to wait until most of the crowd had left. We had to wait
until the Committee would be able to come on board. It was about 1: pm when they
finally made it. The Rabbi and the students were anxious to get off the boat, because
Sabbath was early in the winter time and they had to be in a hotel before sundown. I
saw our stowaway, who made it easily off the boat, mixing in with the crowd, he had
made it. I hope he did as well with the rest of his plans. Then we were called by name
from the delegation of the Committee to pick us up. They told us, that we would first be
taken to a hotel and there we would be interviewed individually, to figure out our next
steps.
MARSEILLES IN TRANSIT.
They took us to an hotel located on the Canebiere, sorry but I forgot the name. Settled
in our room we waited for the delegation to call on us. It did not take too long for them
to call us. When we came into the room where we were interviewed the gentleman in
charge asked me if I was Madame Rogozinski with my two children, Marcel and Leon.
Then he said to me: "I have orders to take the three of you with me to Paris, on Monday
morning." I answered him: "We have a reservation, a fake one, on the boat 'Campana.'"
I understand that this ship leaves on January the 20th, which is this coming Monday, for
Buenos Aires, which is where we are going. Why don't you try first, to get us on that
ship? It will avoid taking us to Paris, which under other circumstances I would have
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loved to do; but right now, I would prefer to go directly to our destination and bring my
children into security. I have my parents and my sisters with their families over there. I
am very anxious to be reunited with them, as soon as possible." The man, whose name
I also forgot, was sitting there and thinking over what I had told him, and then he said: "I
have my orders and I could get into trouble with my superiors; but it is worth a try. It is
too late today to get in contact with the travel company, but I will try it in the morning."
To make sure that we would get on to that ship, I told him, that I would take any
accomodation, that I only needed one bed for my two children and I would be willing to
sleep on the floor, just as long as we could be on our way to Argentina. He told me, that
he would try his best, but if he did not succeed we would have to go with him to Paris. I
agreed to it, what other choice did I have? He told me that he would let me know about
it on Saturday or Sunday morning. I asked him also about Frant's, the Kosher
restaurant in Marseilles – whether it still existed. He told me that all of us, the Rabbi,
and his flock, and the three of us, were expected to be there for our Sabbath dinner.
When we got out of the improvised office, the Yeshiva Bocherim were waiting for me
and told me to get ready to go to the restaurant, as I had told them that I know the way
to get there. Then, as in all the other ports we had been, we walked together down the
Canebiere, down the Course Belsunce, where we used to live, and into the little winding
road to Frant's restaurant. The restaurant was located on the first floor, one flight up
stairs. Mr. Frant Jr., the oldest son, opened the door for us, and when he saw me, it
was as if a miracle had happened to him, as if I had come back from the dead. He
could not take his eyes of my two children and me. Every one came to see me and they
asked for Hans.
They were very happy and honored to have the representatives of the Mirer Yeshiva in
their restaurant; but my friends, the Rabbi and his students, did not start eating there
just like that. First they had to find out, if all was Kosher and in order to eat their meat,
they had to see the shochet (ritual slaughterer) to find out, if he had steady hands.
Because if the shochet's hands are not firm, to hold the knife, the meat that he had
slaughtered, was not kosher. Mr. Frant told the Rabbi, that the shochet would be
arriving in minutes at the restaurant, as he always did on Fridays, he was a steady
guest. It did not take long for the Rabbi to find out, that everything was kosher. Our
Rabbi made Kiddush (blessing of the Sabbath meal) and we ate and sung semiroth
(prayers of thanksgiving) and it was a wonderful Sabbath. I had not seen Mr. Frant
Senior and was at first afraid to ask about him. Finally I took my heart in my hand and
asked for him, and then they told me. His father and some other older Jewish men,
were picked up by French Nazis and never came back.
The fact that the Germans did not occupy Marseilles did not make much difference.
There were enough sympathizers of the Germans in France and there were many,
many Jews young and old, that disappeared during the occupation of France. He also
told us that, the end of the war so far, had not changed French anti-Semitism. If any
change was perceived, it was that it had gotten worse. You have no idea, how much I
was wishing and hoping that we would get on to the boat Campana and out of Nazi
Europe. Little did I know, that Argentina was the country, that let all the Nazis that
wanted to go there, into their midst. Buenos Aires was full of them. On Saturday I was
told by the gentleman from the Committee, that he was negotiating with the travel
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company about our going with the Campana. He told me that there was one
unoccupied bed in a second class cabin for four people; but they were not sure that I
could get that bed for one adult and two children. The passengers would need to
approve. The travel agent would let the HICEEM agent know by Sunday. On Sabbath,
my friends went to the Synagogue. I chose to go with my children for a walk and show
them were we had lived. There were a lot of signs telling of the last war, bombed out
houses and streets. On one bombed out lot on the Canebiere, there was a merry-goround and the children had a ball. I had a hard time to get them away from there; but it
was so exciting to see them having a good time. We went to the shore where the
fishermen laid out their nets and sold their fresh fish and mussels from little stands.
There was always something going on, the children loved it. We met up with our friends
at Frant's, we ate there during our stay in Marseilles. On Sunday morning I was told that
we would go with the Campana to Argentina and that I was going to receive the tickets
for us on Monday morning. What a relief, we did not have to stay in France. The man
from the Committee delayed his return to Paris for one day, he wanted to take us
personally to the ship, to make sure that everything was in order and we would leave
without any delay. It was a good feeling to know that people cared.
We had one more day with our friend the Rabbi, his family and the yeshivah bocherim.
We spent that Sunday walking around the city and trying to shop for things that we
needed. They would all be leaving on Tuesday with the representative of the committee
to Paris. The students who wanted to go to Palestine, were still trying to get there. The
rest of them were trying to go to America. We were corresponding for a while, and if I
remember it right, most of them made it to the U.S.A. Only 3 or 4 made it to Palestine.
Four of the students came to the Campana to see us off and stayed until the boat left at
midnight. They had bought toys for my children. They all were good friends.
WITH THE CAMPANA TO BUENOS AIRES.
The Campana was a modern ship and had not been changed for war purposes. It was
in its original design as a cruise liner. Our cabin consisted of two bunk beds, meaning
four beds. A grandmother, mother and daughter occupied three of the beds, Mm.
Bovier, the older one, had been living in Paris all her life. Her son had moved to
Paraguay and had married the second Mm. Bovier. The second Mm. Bovier's daughter
was the third passenger in our cabin. I found out that Madelyn, the granddaughter, was
visiting her grandmother in Paris during school vacation in 1939 and got stuck there
during the war. Her mother had come to Paris, dissolved her mother-in-law's household
and was bringing grandmother and daughter home to Paraguay. The cabin was small.
There was just enough room to put a mattress on the floor – but they had to be cautious
getting out of bed, to not step on me. My children were in one of the lower bunks,
surrounded by a fence, we managed. The next morning we had our breakfast in the
dining room. It was quite a difference from the Marshall Joffre. The tables were set in
white linen for eight, and waiters wore black garb, very elegant. There was a selection
of choices for food and the food was out of this world. Since our room-mates were
getting up later, we were seated with two Hungarian couples, one of them had one
daughter. The table arrangement remained that way during the whole journey. It turned
out, that they spoke German, besides Hungarian, and that made me feel more at home.
We had lots of fun during our meals together. They were going to Brazil. After we got to
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know each other better I learned that they were Jewish and that they too were
approached by the Catholic Church to convert to Christianity and promised a visa to
Brazil. They, unlike me, accepted this proposal and took advantage of everything they
were offered. They were paid by the church for their fare on the Campana, got the visa
to Brazil and had plenty of money in their pockets to start anew in the new country. I
asked them how they feel not being Jews any more. They laughed and told me, that
they had never been religious Jews and they would continue to be the same "three day
Jews," on Rosh Hashanah and on Yom Kippur (the three holiest days in the Jewish
calendar). When I told them, that I could have done the same in Shanghai; but refused
to do it, they had a big laugh on me. Nobody had to know about it and you, meaning
me, would have a bundle in your pocket now and that would be a big help. Nobody had
to know about it – but I would have known. I could never have done it.
On the first day as we were sailing through the Mediterranean sea, following the coast
of Spain toward the Strait of Gibraltar, two nuns came looking for us in our cabin. They
brought greetings from the Spanish nuns I had befriended on the Marshall Joffre and
had to go through the purser on the boat, to find us. They too came from Barcelona and
were on their way to Brazil, to go to a mission in the jungle. They were, unlike the nuns
Teresa and Luisa, all dressed in white habits. They told me that Teresa and Luisa had
spoken very well of us, and urged them to look us up. They wanted me to know that at
any time I need them, they would be happy to help me. Again I was happy to see that
people cared. I still can not understand how the Holocaust happened. I only
encountered good people wherever I went. Where were all these good people, when all
those crimes were committed against my people? Or was it that I was plain lucky, to
find good people at all times? We too became good friends.
It was the second day on board the Campana, when we heard, that they had captured
a stowaway. He was a young Greek in possession of a valid passport and entrance visa
to Brazil. The one thing he did not have, was money to pay for the ticket to go there. He
was locked up in the ship’s jail, and they said, that he would be taken to Dakar and
send back to France with the next ship. We were all so terribly sorry for the poor man
and tried to figure out a way to help him. Everybody was talking about him and on our
dining table, our conversation always came back to him and his problem. The next day I
met the two nuns on deck and we started talking about this Greek and what we could
do for him. One of the nuns said that we should have a talk to the captain of the ship
and find out from him, what we could do. I found out right then and there, as to how to
get an audience with the captain, by asking one of the stewards. The two nuns and
myself went to talk to the captain. He was a very friendly, nice man and he listened to
our questions carefully. First he explained to us, that there is an international law, that a
stowaway is to be jailed and on land to be turned over to the authorities. He assured us,
that he really did not like to do it; but the law has to be observed. As to what we could
do for him, he said. The man has a valid passport and visa to Brazil and the only thing
we could do, was to pay his passage. I think the amount came close to $100. We did
not have that kind of money to give away. So I asked him, (remembering my frustrating
going to collect money in 1941 for me and Mike to go to Argentina) if he would give us
permission to try to collect money from the other passengers, to pay the Greek’s
passage. He sat there and thought for a while. Then he said: "This is something that is
not normally done, and I don't know, if I will be reprimanded by the company for
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allowing it; but these are extraordinary times and it is about time, that people are
helping and not killing each other. I will look the other way, if you persist in going ahead
with it." (I am not sure of his precise words, but that was generally what the captain
said.) The two nuns and I were determined to raise the money and we decided to do it
at dinnertime in the dining room. We spoke Spanish, I was the only one speaking
German, and broken French and English. We started equipped with a breadbasket and
made the rounds, with my table first – they were very generous. I found out at that time,
that we had a lot of Jews, survivors of the Holocaust, on board going to Brazil. From the
little money they had, they gave to help, and so did I. After we collected the money in
our dining room alone, there was more than enough to pay for his passage. After we
had our dinner, we went to the captain and paid for the Greek Stowaway. The captain
was nearly moved to tears, he made out a voucher for the amount of the ticket and
what was over the amount needed, we had decided to give it to him, so as to have
some money when he got off the ship. The captain handed me the voucher and said
that he will take us down to the jail and that I should turn the voucher over to the
prisoner. With the voucher the Greek bought a ticket. We all went down and, for the first
time I saw a man behind bars in jail. He was a very nice young man of about 22 years
and I don't have to tell you how happy and how thankful he was to us. I don't think that
he had ever known any compassion from strangers before, and I felt elated, because
we had pulled it through.
I was sorry that we did not stop at any port in Spain, I sure would have loved it had we
stopped in Barcelona to go back and look up old friends. Our first stop was going to be
Dakar, French West Africa. Before we arrived there, we had a rough time sailing
through the Gibraltar Straits. This was not sailing at all, this was more like bumping,
sliding, and flying. The sea was wild, I mean really wild. We had storms coming from
Shanghai to Marseilles, several of them, we even had one typhoon; but nothing could
match this storm and those waves, Our ship was like a nutshell, flying without a rudder.
I was afraid that the sea would gobble the boat up, with all of us in it. Anything that was
not nailed down was rolling back and forth and breaking into pieces. Everyone was
seasick. In our cabin the mother and daughter were so sick, that they could not move.
When they moved, they threw up, the grandmother was not sick; but she could not be
moved from her bed out of fear that she would fall. My children did not get sick either,
but they were hungry and I had to take care of them. I was sick myself, but I could not
afford to be sick, how else could I take care of them and of the grandmother? The
ship’s stewards came around once in a while, to see if they could be of any help. I was
suffocating from the smell in our cabin. The steward told me to go into the dining room,
he said the air was better there and to tie the children and myself onto one of the dining
tables, they did not move, as they were screwed on to the floor. I tore linen into straps,
tied Leon to the bed, so he would not fall out of the bed. I wanted to go up to the dining
room first with Mike, to see if we would be able to make it. Now I tied Mike on to me, to
make sure not to loose him on my way up and started our adventure up to the dining
room.
That was not an easy task, we were more flying then walking and bumping against the
walls, it was very dangerous too, as plates and cups and other things were flying and
rolling through the hallway. It was a good thing that I had Mike tied up to me, I don't
know, what would have happened otherwise. After fighting our way through, we finally
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made it to the dining room. Lots of passengers were already tied up to the tables. The
dining room grand piano lay in one corner with broken legs, tied to the wide stairs, lots
of chairs were broken; the rest of them were also tied up to tables and the stair railing
leading to the upper deck. I found a table for us and started to tie Mike up to it. Waiters
were going, pardon, not going, flying around, and swinging baskets, filled with
sandwiches for the passengers who were able to eat. I got one for Mike and two to take
to the cabin for Leon and grandmother. After warning Mike not to untie himself, I was on
my way to pickup Leon. On my way down I was thinking, that I would not be able to
bring Leon up by myself, I was afraid that Leon may get hurt. I spotted a steward
making his round and I asked him to help me. He was very nice and came with me to
the cabin. My baby was crying for me, it had taken me a long time to get back to him. I
tied Leon to the stewards back, gave the sandwiches to grandmother who was very
hungry and very happy to get them. With the steward’s help, it was much easier to get
to the dining room. At night the stewards brought us pillows and blankets and we made
ourselves as comfortable as was possible under the circumstances. We were tied up
for I think, three days. Several times during the day I went down to check on our
roommates and to bring them something to eat. The stewards did a very good job and
helped the passengers as much as was possible. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it
stopped. The sea was calm and life started to normalize. A lot of damage was done to
the ship and at first they wanted to make an emergency stop in Casablanca, Morocco.
But then they changed their minds. They fixed whatever they could, while we were
sailing, as the sea was calm. We landed in Dakar where we stayed for three or four
days, until all the damage was taken care of. We walked around quite a bit in Dakar;
but without my friends of the Mirer Yeshivah, I did not dare to go too far with my two
little children, we tried to keep close to the ship.
I was happy when we finally left Dakar, and I don't have any real memories to tell from
there. Now we were travelling over the Atlantic Ocean. The weather was very nice, not
too warm and not too cold, but with every day passing it became hotter. I always walked
with my children after lunch and after dinner, several times around the deck, for
exercise. We were singing or I was telling them stories, it was a lot of fun. Sometimes
the nuns would join us and sometimes others. People were playing shuffleboard and
other games, there was no possibility for me to participate, because I had to watch my
children. Some times we stopped our walk and just watched them play. We also had a
small swimming pool on one side of our deck and as it became real warm, Mike went in,
to play with other children. One day, my Leon wanted to get in to the pool too, there
would not be any problem if I could get in it with him. But I had no bathing suit and
could not. For Mike the pool was not too deep; but for Leon it was and I was scared for
him. An older man was in the pool and he told me to let Leon in for a while, he would
watch him. I gave in and the man held him and played with him with me sitting on the
edge, watching. Suddenly, my Leon got out of the man’s hands and slid under the
water. The man tried to get him; but failed. I put my head into the water and looked for
him, with my eyes open, saw him and had to put half of my body into the water to grab
him by the hair and pulled him out. That little boy was something else. He had
swallowed a lot of water, he was coughing, spitting and the tears were running from his
eyes and he hardly could get the words out, only with a stutter, he said: "A, ab, aber i,
ich lebe noch! (But I am still alive). He was such a sweet little guy and we laughed so
much. He wanted to go right back into the water; but I had enough of it.
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It was not long after this episode, when I was called to the captain and was asked to
bring all my documents with me. As I told you before, he was a very nice and friendly
man. He told me, that I should not get alarmed; but he had some bad news for me. He
said, that I would have difficulties landing in Buenos Aires. I had known that before; but
did not know that the captain was aware of it. When he looked over my documents, he
was even more certain of what he had told me. He asked me whom I had in Argentina
and I told him. He said that it would be a good idea to notify my parents ahead of time
of the difficulties I could expect. He proposed to me, to write out a telegram in German
to tell my father of possible problems awaiting us when landing, in order to find ways to
help us, if needed. That is what we did and he sent it out for me. He also told me, that I
should not worry, because one way or another, he would get us there somehow. He
said: "My ship anchors in Buenos Aires for 12 days. If, by that time, you did not get
permission to disembark, you will come with us to Montevideo, Uruguay, and I will help
you from there to get to Argentina." That was the kind of man he was, full of
compassion, he was a Mensch, a human being.
There also was a playroom for children with all sorts of toys, quite often, in the
mornings, the children wanted to go there to play. They enjoyed it very much. It became
sort of a routine on board. One morning sitting in the playroom, watching my children
play, a lady came into the room and sat beside me. I recognized her as one of the
Holocaust survivors. I would have tried to get together with the survivors; but I had
plenty on my hands. It was not easy to travel with two little rascals like my children. I
really did not have a moment to myself. I had seen that lady and spoken to her, at the
time the nuns and I were collecting money for the stowaway. We greeted each other
and after a while, she started a conversation. She said in a German mixed with Yiddish:
"I am envious of you for being able to speak so many languages. I have been observing
you, you talk to your children German, to some of the waiters Spanish, French and
English. I am lost, I only speak Yiddish and Polish and with that I can not talk to any one
on board." I laughed and told her that my French and English were not so hot and that I
could not get very far with it. That broke the ice, we started talking and she told me part
of her story. I will tell you things I remember she told me.
It was 1938 shortly before the “Greenspan affair,” Greenspan killed a German officer of
the German Embassy in Paris," She was living in Germany, with her husband and her
little girl of two years. They were born in Germany of Polish parents. In October, when
Hitler’s hordes were gathering the Jews, sending them off to the Polish-German frontier
and leaving them in the no-mans-land between the two countries. They were sent there
too and so were her parents. During the panic of that situation they lost her parents; but
found them later in Warsaw. The situation in Warsaw had gone from bad to worse.
Thousands of refugees, and those from the no-mans-land had come there, with no
means to support themselves. The committees worked overtime, to house and feed our
poor people and it was getting worse by the hour. They survived and struggled as all
they could. They tried to get out of Europe; but without money and the committees
overloaded, were unsuccessful. Almost a year went by. Then the Germans invaded
Poland. When the Germans started rounding up the Jews in Warsaw, they decided to
go underground. That was not easy to do with a little girl three years old by now. She
and her husband had been thinking about it for a long time and had gone to villages
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nearby, looking for someone who would take care of their little girl, until hopefully it was
all normalized again. She cried, when she was telling me that, and I with her, about the
last time she saw her little girl. They were fighting, with the partisans, underground, and
that was not easy. The Jewish members could not trust most of the Polish partisans,
they were anti-Semites as well. From the few things she told me about her experiences,
I learned quite a bit of what they went through. Since then a lot has been written about
it. But for me it was the first time. They had to guard themselves from their enemies on
one side and from their comrades on the other, it was horrible. They survived the war.
When it was over, with a lot of difficulty, they went to find their daughter, who by then
was nine years old. I don't remember the details of what happened, I only know that
they never got to see their child again. The people they had given their child, in good
faith to guard her from the Germans, denied she had ever been placed with them. She
was not to be found there, the child had vanished. They had no means to look or to
fight for her and to top it, her husband got sick and had to be hospitalized. The horror
years in the woods, under ground, plus not finding their daughter had taken its toll of
him, he was a nervous wreck and had to be handled with kid gloves. Her parents had
disappeared too and neither his nor her family could be found. She had only one
younger brother left. But she did not know where he was. She said that the Red Cross
was looking for him and their child. She said that she was told, that a lot of people had
gone to Shanghai and maybe the brother had found his way there as well. The brother
was not home at the time when they were picked up by the Germans to be sent to the
Polish border, and she hoped somehow, that he had escaped the Nazi horror. The Red
Cross and the Jewish committee had advised them to take advantage of the visa to
Brazil. They said that the change of climate, the peaceful life, would do them a world of
good. The Red Cross as well as the Jewish committee promised them that they would
keep in touch with them, no matter where they would be and bring to them any news
they would get about their daughter and her brother. Now they were on their way to
Brazil.
After we both had cried a lot over their misfortune. She asked me about myself and of
my family. When I told her that we had come from Shanghai, she got very excited and
enthusiastic. She cried out: "Maybe you know my brother, maybe you have met him?" I
tried to calm her and I told her, that chances of my knowing him, were very slim, after
all, we were 25,000 refugees there and she was not even sure, that he had gone there.
When I had finally calmed her down, I asked her for his name and when she told me, it
was I, who had to be composed. It was "Ernst Maas", not only did I know him, I even
had a group picture in my suitcase, with him on it. As fast as my feet would carry me, I
went down to the cabin, while she guarded my children, I brought up the picture and
gave it to her. I still get the shivers just thinking about it. Thank G"d, she had found her
only brother, her only relative. Again we started crying; but this time, we cried for joy. A
few months later I heard from her brother in a letter. He thanked me for finding his sister
and having her getting in contact with him. He was trying to get together with her. I hope
with all my heart, that they are together and that they got their little girl back.
Sometimes in the afternoon, we went to the cafeteria for a coffee and a snack for the
children. I did not go often – this cafeteria was not included on our ticket and I had to
pay there; money was scarce. We stayed there for an hour or longer and talked with
other passengers. I usually stayed as long as the children would let me, without getting
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impatient, they were always on the run, with me behind them. This cafeteria was in the
middle of our deck. It stood there like a little house all by itself.
One afternoon as we were leaving the cafeteria, Leon pulled away from me and ran
out. I still had to pay my bill and told Mike to run after him, to hold him, until I could tie
him up again. I paid the waiter and went out, there were no children on the deck. I
called out Mike! Leon! no answer. I went around the little house and saw them. From
second to third class there was a barrier which divided the two classes. This barrier was
made out of chrome pipes, running across the deck, from one side of the boat to the
other. At the end of the barrier, it joined with the outside rail of the boat. A gate was at
the end of the barrier which when opened, lined up with the outside railing. On that little
gate, to my horror, I saw my two children swinging back and forth, having a lot of fun,
screaming and laughing when the gate hit the outside railing, with the ocean below. At
first I stood there frozen. When I was able to think, I was afraid to move or to call out,
for fear that they could fall into the sea if they were startled. I noticed that the second
class deck was completely empty; but noticed some passengers on the third class
adjacent deck and they were not moving, just paralyzed with fear. The ship was moving
from one side to the other, the only sounds one could hear were the waves, hitting the
ship on the sides and the joyous shrieks of my children, in a very dangerous
performance. I started to move in slow motion toward the railing and every bang when
my children hit it, went like a knife through my breast. My whole life passed in front of
my eyes as I saw our lives, my children's and my own, coming to an end. I knew, if I
could not get my children off in time and if they would fall into the sea, that I would jump
right after them. And that would have been the end of us. Slowly, I came closer to them
and then I grabbed both of them and the three of us fell to the floor. Suddenly the deck
was full of people. Our little drama was observed by a lot of passengers from first,
second and third class. I was hysterical, had a nervous breakdown and had to be taken
to the infirmary. I was worried for my children and did not want to stay there. My
roommates and the two nuns came to see me with the children, and told me not to
worry, that they would take good care of them, after that I allowed the doctor to give me
a shot and I was knocked out. I only stayed 24 hours in the infirmary, just until I became
conscious again. The doctor wanted me to stay there at least for an other day: No deal.
Ten horses could not have kept me from my children. I realized that my breakdown did
not just happened because of this episode alone. All the former happenings had
already drained me. This incident was the last straw and put me out of commission.
It took a long time for my nerves to get normal again. I was a nervous wreck. I decided
to take the pills the ship’s doctor had given me and I started slowly feeling better. The
climate changed and it became warmer as we got closer to the south American coast.
We now had lounge chairs on deck and, since it became warmer every day, our three
roommates, my children, and I were sitting together, talking a lot and we got much
closer with each other. My roommates were extremely grateful to me and told me so,
for not having forgotten them when we were sailing through the stormy Gulf of Gibraltar,
especially for helping grandmother. They did not know what they could do for me, to
make up for it. They tried very hard to help me with the children. They told me, that they
were travelling with me only as far as Montevideo, Uruguay and from there on they
were going to fly to Asuncion, Paraguay. They had a big farm there, close to Asuncion,
with cattle and horses and a large villa, with many guestrooms. They told me, that I had
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an open invitation to visit them any time I felt like it. I could feel, that they meant it and
that was when I got my brilliant idea: I knew , that I would have big difficulties landing in
Buenos Aires, I knew it before the captain confirmed it to me. Now I started thinking,
what, if we really could not enter legally into Argentina, if we had to do what the captain
said he would do to help us. There would be no way that I could bring Hans over from
Shanghai. So I figured out, that if they really wanted to help me, there was a very good
way to do so. I told them about the captain and of what he had told me and did not tell
them anything of what had gone on before in Shanghai. Right then they told me, that if
we could not land in Argentina, to let them know and that they would send me an
invitation to come for a visit to their ranch. They said, that once we were there, we
would not have any difficulties to get to Argentina. Mm Bovier made out an invitation
and gave it to me, to have it in case we needed it. I thanked them for their offer, but told
them, that I would rather get a llamada for Hans from them, in case I needed it. This
way I was sure to get him out of Shanghai and to Argentina, as I had promised him. At
first they were doubtful, they did not know Hans and I could not really blame them, to
make that kind of promise, but then they gave in. I wanted to make sure, that they
would not go back on their promise and I forced them to take $25 from me, for
expenses they may have to make the llamada. I had the feeling that having that money
from me, they would feel obligated to make it – against their better judgement. After I
had done that, I felt much better, because no matter what would happen, Hans would
be able to get there and that took care of my promise to him. Now I had to work on us,
maybe, everything would work out, without the expected problems?
We were seeing land and that is always exciting when travelling. The coast of Brazil
came closer and closer. Some of the passengers I knew, the nuns and others, had
already said their farewells to me, because when you land, there are too many things to
do and there is never time for good byes. The view spreading out in front of us was
breathtaking. On the left the Sugar Loaf Mountain, and in front of us the city of Rio de
Janeiro, indescribably beautiful. My children and I were dressed to go ashore, I needed
to feel land under me, a steady walk, the movements of the water drove me nuts. How
wonderful it was, to walk the beautiful streets, we could not get enough of it. It was
hours later, when we went back to the ship. On the ship, a big shock awaited us.
Most of the Holocaust survivors were still on board, they were denied entrance to Brazil.
How could that happen? 42 survivors, having "Red Cross passports" with Brazilian
visas in them, issued on the same day in France, were not allowed to land in Brazil.
They were there on deck, lost like little children, desperate and hopeless. I found out,
that they all came on board with one-day validity left on their visas. Again I spoke to the
captain, he was there, trying to comfort those passengers not allowed to land. He
explained to me, that Brazil was handling this situation against international rules. The
international rules are: if passengers board a ship, directed to the port for which the
visas were issued and if there was only one day left of validity of the visas, which was in
these case, it is as if they had already entered the country of their destiny. He said that,
had it not been for this international law, the passengers would not have been allowed
to board the ship in the first place. Other passengers like our table partners from
Hungary, and the lady whose brother, Ernst Maas, I had found for her, also had "Red
Cross" passports, but their visas were evidently obtained at a later date. They had
landed without any difficulty. Somehow, there was no Committee to receive them there
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and they all were on their own. I sat down with them and tried to figure out what we
could do. I thought, that the "Jewish Committee,” the HIAS in Paris and the "Jewish
American Joint Distribution Center" in New York, should be notified, because they
suddenly had become "displaced persons" again. I told them so. I spoke about it to the
captain and asked him if we could send some telegrams from the ship. He was very
sorry not being able to do that and explained that when a ship is anchored in a port,
they can not send cables out, it had to be done from land. Since none of 42 passengers
could get off the ship, the task was mine, to go to the telegraph office and to send the
wires. We all sat down to work on the message to be send. The post and telegraph
office was not too far from the port were we were anchored, it was almost dark when I
arrived, but I send out two very large messages. It was very strange and kind of funny,
that we could go off the boat in all the port's we landed and I knew, that we would have
the same difficulties, trying to land in Buenos Aires. My heart was very heavy. The
baggage of those stranded on board had been taken off the ship, but was returned to
them before we left Rio. At that time I found out some more gruesome activities of the
Germans. In one of the suitcases there was imbedded in boxes, lined with silk,
"SOAP"named "RIF" standing for "REIN JUEDISCHES FETT". "PURE JEWISH FAT"
One of the passengers had gathered it in Germany, to give them a Jewish burial
overseas. This was what the Germans did, they washed their laundry with soap made
of Jewish fat. Can anybody believe such a horror?
Early on the following morning a delegation from the Jewish Community arrived on
board. They said, that they were notified from New York and from Paris, to work at it to
get the people off the ship, and into Brazil. They promised to do everything they could.
We stayed in Rio de Janeiro for two days and shortly before we left, some of the
members of the Jewish Community came on board telling us, that they were still trying.
Hopefully when we arrive in Santos, they will be able to land there. It was difficult for me
to enjoy the beauty of the coast we were sailing along on our way to Santos. It was
good, that I had my children with me, they kept me on my toes. I had no time for
depression.
In Santos a delegation from the Jewish Community was already waiting for us.
Unfortunately there was no good news for our displaced people. They said, that Brazil
is out, they refuse to let them land there, but New York has send a delegation to
Montevideo, Uruguay, to make arrangements to get visas for all of them for either
Uruguay, Argentina, or Paraguay. They said, not to worry, they would not be sent back
to any other place in Europe. We all had some very anxious and fearful days ahead of
us. There was nothing anyone could do. We were all so vulnerable. That was it, what it
was all about when I say that we were not treated as people, but as things. People are
not treated like that! People are supposed to be treated with a heart, with sympathy and
compassion. Again, I was thinking about human interactions and came to this
conclusion. Individuals dealing with individuals are, in general, “good.” They help each
other. When individuals deal with “abstract” groups they don’t see the individuals, then
they treat one another as “things.” It may be good for the citizens in general; but it
certainly is not good for those singled out for punishment, as we were.
During the whole trip from Shanghai to Brazil, my big boy Mike was behaving like an
angel and not only that, he was a big help to me. I knew that I could trust him. The day
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we were anchored in Santos, he suddenly disappeared. I was looking all over for him,
to no avail. I ran to the entrance of the ship and was assured that no child could ever
have gotten through there. Everybody on board was looking for him and I was frantic
and afraid, that he may have fallen overboard. During all the time we were looking for
my Mike, the ship was loaded with green bananas, to be exported. Half of our deck was
filled with them and after what seemed to me like hours of search, we found him behind
the bananas enjoying himself with them. He looked like a chimney sweep. Everything
on him was black, as were his face, hands and knees. Because we had been out
walking in Santos before his disappearance, I had him wearing his best white shorts
and shirt!. I had a hard time getting him cleaned up; his clothes were ruined. The
bananas have a way to stain cloth, to never be cleaned again. But, my G"d, was I
happy to have him back.
We were getting closer to the end of our trip, only two more ports and we would find out
what was going to happen to us. We arrived in Montevideo. A whole "Joint" delegation
from New York and from Montevideo was waiting in the port. They came on board as
soon as we docked. There was no good news for our displaced persons passengers.
The committee told us that they were working on three governments, Argentina,
Uruguay, and Paraguay. They were sure to get the visas for all of them. No one would
have to go back. In the meantime we were all miserable. When we left Montevideo, the
officers of the Argentinean immigration department had already boarded our ship and
started checking all of the passengers’ documents. I was reminded of my arrival in
Kobe, Japan.
They went through my papers with a magnifying glass, all the while shaking their heads
while looking at me and my children. They told me what I had expected to hear all
along: until further notice we would have to stay on board and that they would have to
take my documents with them for additional study. Finally the ship landed in Buenos
Aires and, as it anchored, I could see masses of people on the pier, held back with
cords by the harbor police. As soon as the ship was securely tied up they took away the
cords and let the people come close to the ship. The first person entering the free circle
was my father. He had spotted me and he called up to me: "Can you land?" When he
heard my answer, “no,” he turned back and disappeared into the crowd. Then after a
while I saw my Mutti, Rosa, and Betty and some others with them whom I did not
recognize. They turned out to be Hans' brother, Josef, and his family. It was terrible; we
were so close and still so far. We could not get off the boat and they could not get on.
Little by little the boat emptied, only the 42 displaced persons and the three of us were
left. Then the Jewish Committee and two policemen in civilian clothing came on board
and finally, after the captain had given his permission, my family came on board.
It can not be described the happiness we felt after a separation of so many years. Mutti
told me that Papa had gone to see Señor (mister) Korn for help to get us to land in
Argentina. I knew Senior Korn from Dortmund, Papa had done business with him back
there. He was in Buenos Aires, the owner of a factory of shoes made of cloth,
"Alpargatas Argentinas." He was a very influential, powerful person in Buenos Aires. In
the mean time the 42 displaced persons, were gathered around the delegates of the
Joint and the Jewish Kehillah (community) from Buenos Aires. They were getting
promising news. It looked like that they would be able to get visas into Argentina. They
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had to be patient. The Committee had already had a favorable audience with General
Peron, who at that time was the President of Argentina. The immigration department
was working on the details. I was so relieved about this news. They too had to remain
on board, in third class; but they were not watched over by the police, as we were. The
captain consented for Mutti to stay on board with us overnight. So all the time we had to
be on board, Mutti was with us and we had time to get to know each other again. After
all, we had been separated for almost 9 years. The children too had to get to know their
grandparents and that was a very good time for them.
I met Hans’ family: Josef, his brother, and Lotte, his wife, and their three children. Leo,
their oldest son, was one or two years younger then I. Sonia was a lovely girl of 19 and
we became very good friends. Helga, the youngest, was nine or ten years old at the
time. They all were very nice people and really tried to help us as much as they possibly
could. They, my two sisters and Rosa's children, Joni, Isi and Natalio, came to visit us
on the boat. Joni and my Mike were look alikes, only Joni was a little taller than Mike.
Even now, 45 year later, they still look very much alike. It was very nice to have them
coming at all times, while my father and Mr. Korn were taking care of our permission to
land. Sonia became very friendly with one of the policemen. That guy really fell in love
with her. We were singing a lot on deck, I knew a lot of Argentine tangos which I had
learned them when Carlos Gardel was in Barcelona. We, as teenagers, were crazy
about him. I knew most of his tangos and the policemen loved to hear me sing them.
We had a good time on board. The captain saw to it that we were all fed, including my
family. During the day, sometimes, the two policemen took us off the ship to have a little
walk and to get some solid ground under our feet. They were not allowed to do that, but
they did it any way. After we were detained on the boat for eight days, on February 28th
1947, the 42 displaced persons were admitted as immigrants to Argentina and were
taken off the ship. I was very happy for them, but was also very worried for our future.
The ship was supposed to be leaving on the third of March and we did not yet get the
permission to land. We were all worried. I really have no idea how much trouble I
caused my dear father. He was running around like mad, doing everything the
authorities asked of him.
The day the 42 people were released, the two policemen watching us, came up with an
idea. They said that they would help us. There were actually four policemen watching
us, two during the day and two at night and those watching at night always slept
through the night at the entrance of the ship. They told me, if we would not get
permission to land by the second of March, they would come with a little boat to the
other side of the ship and get us off in the middle of the night. They thought it was so
easy to get us of the boat like that, but we had two little children. I did not think that it
was such a good idea; the authorities would be able to find us in no time and we would
then really be in big trouble. But I was very thankful to them for wanting to help us. I
thought it would be better to take my chances with the captain's plan, or if worse comes
to worst, to contact the Boviers in Paraguay. Thank G"d it did not come to that. On the
second of March I was picked up by Papa and officers of the immigration department
and taken to the harbor police. Papa came with me and Mutti stayed with the children
on the ship. We were admitted by a special authorization from President Juan Peron. I
had to go through a lot of red tape, but we finally did it. I only resented the fact that they
did not give me back the llamada with all the different Argentinean visas on it. When I
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asked for it, they told me that this document was illegal and their property. All the other
documents were returned to me. We picked up Mutti and the children and after saying
good bye to the captain and the crew, we finally went "home."
ARGENTINA
I remember it was already dark when we arrived at my parents’ apartment. I remember
a lady was waiting for us. She was my father’s cousin Fanny, from Gelsenkirchen,
Germany. I knew her; Rosa and I had often visited them in Gelsenkirchen. They were 5
sisters and they lived with their parents, Tante Klara, we called her "Mime," which
stands for aunt in Yiddish, and uncle Moses. I did not recognize her. I remembered their
parents and the large furniture store they had. It was such a wonderful place to hide,
when we were playing hide and seek in the good old times – when we were children
and without worries. I remember that they had a large flat above the furniture store and
we, Rosa and I, enjoyed very much going there for a vacation. Fanny was the second
oldest of their daughters, 12 years older then I, and was already married in Germany.
So of course, we did not play together and it was therefore no wonder that I did not
recognize her. During the time we lived in Buenos Aires we became very good friends
with each other and with her family, her husband, Mendel, and her only daughter Betty.
I will tell you now how they escaped Germany, got to Argentina and how the two
cousins, Papa and Fanny, found each other in Buenos Aires.
In November 1938, when the Nazis herded together the Jews of Polish origin and sent
them to the border between Germany and Poland, Fanny and Mendel Kohn, with Betty,
their nine year old daughter, were among those unfortunate Jews. Betty was in school
at the time when her parents were taken from their home. Imagine, the SS picked Betty
up from her school at Fanny's insistence. Fanny cried that they could not take her
without her daughter. Betty told me that two huge SS men came into the classroom and
took her, a little girl, in their midst and marched her out of the school to a waiting truck
where a lot of others, besides her parents, were waiting for her. They were first taken to
a prison where they found Fanny's father, Moses Hoffmann, and Rebecca her sister.
They were also taken from their homes and brought there. Her sister Emma with her
baby was picked up too, but had been separately brought to the police station with
other unfortunate Jews. Fanny's group had already been locked into the cattle car
when, through a window, which the Nazis had forgotten to block up, Acka (Rebecca)
spotted her sister, with her baby, in the crowd waiting for the next transport. Acka
jumped out of the window to get her sister and baby and they handed the baby first
over to the family and both of them climbed back into the train. This way they were
deported together. Mime (aunt) KLara, Acka's and Emma's husband's, as well as the
other two sisters, had not been home when the Nazis came to get them. To tell here
what they went through is very difficult. I really don't know how long it took them to
reach the border. I also forgot most the details. I only know that they were living in a
Heim in "Zbonsion", a small city on the no-mans-land stretch between the German and
Polish borders, supported by the Jewish community and committee. Ten months they
lived there, until they got lucky to get visas to Bolivia. Mendel had a brother in Argentina
who had also tried, just like my parents had for us, to get visas for his brother and family
for Argentina, also without success. He arranged for the visas to Bolivia for Mendel and
his family. Acka's husband Edy, also managed through his family overseas to get visas
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to Bolivia and Mime Klara had in the meantime gotten an affidavit from their oldest
daughter Lotte from California and a visa for Moses and herself. Almost all of them
were allowed by the Germans to come back for one month to their respective homes
and prepare for their departure. Only Emma and her baby were left behind. This was in
August of 1939. It was one month before World War II broke out. Fanny and Mendel
found their home ransacked by their neighbors. They knew that it was their neighbors
because they were wearing Fanny’s and Mendel’s clothes – these used to be the good
friends. They were allowed to take a lift with them. While they were still traveling in
September, the Nazis overran and captured Poland on one side. Russia took care of
the other side and the World War was on. Come to think about it, we all were at the
same time on the high seas, each family going to different parts of the world. We were
on our way to Shanghai, Mime Klara and uncle Moses to America, Fanny, Mendel and
Betty, to Bolivia, as were Acka and Edy – but on different ships. The two sisters met
again when they had to change ships, in Curasao, and then they went together to
Bolivia. Emma and two other younger sisters of Fanny’s perished in German
crematoria, together with their respective families and millions of others of our Jewish
brothers and sisters<<MR: It might be worthwhile to add a family tree to show what
branches survived and which where murdered by the Nazis.>>. After they had lived in
Cochabamba, Bolivia, for several years, Fanny and family had to move from there.
Fanny could not live in that climate, it was too high for her and she was constantly sick.
They moved to La Paz and after they lived there for some time she could not stand that
climate either. Legally, it was impossible for them to move to Buenos Aires, so they
crossed illegally the border, through the Argentinean province of Jujuy, and arrived in
Buenos Aires. They did not have an easy time there. They had lived 6 years in Bolivia.
Fanny had heard from some one that my parents had moved from Spain to Argentina.
But she was not was not sure. She tried unsuccessfully to get into contact with her
cousin, my father. At the time neither she nor my father had a telephone – one had to
wait for ten years to get one in Argentina, much longer than in the rest of the world.
Betty Kohn and my sister Betty were a half-year apart in age (they were both named for
the same aunt Betty). They both had joined a Zionist youth group in Buenos Aires. One
day my sister Betty went to see Betty Kohn to tell her about some meeting they had.
Betty Kohn was not home. My sister left a message with Fanny and Fanny asked for my
sister’s name. My sister said, “Just tell her Betty, she will know.” and left. Fanny called
after her, "what is your last name?" Betty called back her name, but all that Fanny
heard was Feuer. When her Daughter came home, she asked her about the last name.
But and Betty Kohn did not know our Betty's last name. "Could it be Feuerstein"? Fanny
asked Betty over and over again. Betty Kohn did not know and repeatedly said so.
Fanny did not give up that easily, she felt in her guts that this Betty was her cousin's
child. She asked her, if she knew where this Betty lived and again she said that she did
not know it. But then she remembered that she had gone once to a shoe, or
“alpargatas” store on Calle Monroe – “alpargatas” are shoes made from cloth and rough
cord for soles. Betty had told her, that the store was her father's. Fanny's daughter did
not know the exact address; but explained to her mother more or less where the store
was. It was dark and raining outside, but our Fanny was not lazy, she put on her
raincoat, took an umbrella and off she went. The store was 10 or 11 long blocks away
from her home; but she found it. Betty was alone in the store, Papa was in the back.
Fanny asked her: "Is your last name Feuerstein?" And Betty said: "Yes." Then Fanny
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asked: "Is your father’s name Samuel or Schmiel? and Betty said: "No, my fathers
name is Josef." Fanny was down hearted, she was so sure, that she had finally found
her cousin, she turned around to leave and at that time Papa came into the store,
Fanny turned around and they recognized each other at the same moment. The
happiness can not be described, after so many years to find at least some of the family
and that, so far away from home. It turned out, that our Betty did not know that our dad
had two names, Josef Samuel and in Yiddish, his name was Jossel Schmiel. Our Mutti
called Papa only by the name Josef, while the rest of his family called him Schmiel. I
got to hear this whole story on the first night I spent in my parents’ home in Argentina.
At the time when we arrived in Buenos Aires, my dad did not have the shoe store any
more. He had to give it up as he could not make a parnosse, a living out of it. He too, as
well as Max and Rosa had to struggle very much in Argentina, it was the same with
Hans’s brother and his family. Their life had not been easy and still was not, when we
got there. It was a big struggle, a very poor life. When Rosa and Max came to
Argentina, Max started to work at "ALPARGATAS ARGENTINAS". The factory
belonged to Alfred Korn whom we knew from Dortmund. Papa had worked with him
there and he had left Germany before Hitler came to power. If my memory is not
playing any tricks on me, I remember that he had a big fire in his warehouse in
Dortmund and I remember my father saying to my mother: "Noch a fayer wert men
reich" – after a fire one gets rich. At the time, I did not know what that meant. He had
done very well in Argentina. But he also had brought a lot of money with him, and that is
always very helpful! I don't know, what kind of work Max did there; but the pay was
lousy, he did not earn enough for a decent living for his expanding family. In order to
supplement their income, they rented a little store with a small one-bedroom apartment
behind it. The three boys slept in the bedroom and the dining room was made up to be
the dining room by day and the bedroom for Rosa and Max at night. The tiny kitchen
was adjacent to the store. In the store they sold alpargatas and shoes for children.
Rosa was working in the store, but the livelihood, was very poor. Their three boy's Joni,
Isi, and Natalio grew up in the same place and Rosa and Max lived there until they
moved to Israel in 1964.
When my parents came to Argentina in 1938, Papa too went to work at the same
factory; only he could not take it that long, I think he did it for two years. He opened the
shoe store on Calle Monroe and struggled with it for almost 5 years and then he had to
close it. One of the reasons was that he could not afford to pay the increasing monthly
rents. Business was not good enough to pay the apartment rent plus the rent for the
store. They had a nice little one-bedroom apartment, not far, just a few blocks from the
store. In a nice neighborhood – the district was called Belgrano. My parents slept in the
bedroom and Betty in the dining room on the sofa. It was a very small but cozy
apartment and, the way my dear mother kept it, it looked like a dollhouse. My mother
was very clean, imagine, she made special slippers to go on in the house, for everyone
coming in, in order not to spot her mirror-like parquet floor. Everything was shining and
clean. I don't know! I try to be like her; but somehow, it does not work out. I found out
that my dear Mother was suffering from Diabetes for quite a few years already, she was
on Insulin and had learned to inject it herself. Whenever I was there I gave her the
shots and it was terrible. The needles were about three inches long and very thick.
They had to be boiled with the syringe before every use in order to sterilize them. My
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poor, dear mother did not have a clean space on her body where to give herself her
next injection. Her skin had become like leather, was bumpy and it was very difficult to
push a needle in. The needle became dull from so much boiling. Even now, when I
think of it, I feel like crying, thinking of what my dear mother had to suffer. She had had
several diabetic shocks and had been hospitalized several times. I was very disturbed
by this news.
The first night, Betty went to sleep with a girlfriend of hers, my children slept on the sofa
and I slept on the floor, I was already used to it. The next day, we went to Rosa and to
Josef Rogozinski, my brother-in-law. They were all very nice to us and really tried to
help us. Josef and Lotte, his wife, talked me into leaving Mike with them for a few days,
in order for me to get organized and perhaps find an apartment for us. For Rosa it was
very difficult to take care of my two children with her three boys, she hardly had room
for them and it was not a good idea to have five boys running around in an open store.
But first I thought that I had to get a job, to be able to pay for an apartment. I also had
to get my “cedula” – identity card, in order to be able to get a job. One thing was
connected to another and I really had to apply myself to get all these things
accomplished. First things first, I went to get my cedula. Normally one goes to the
police, fills out the forms, and after a week or so, the cedula is send to you by mail and
you are all set. Well, it did not work out with me that simply. When I turned in my form,
they turned to me and said, that I am an enemy alien and that I will have to go to the
foreign police, for a cedula. You see, at almost the end of the war, Argentina declared
war on Germany and since I was born in Germany, I was the enemy. That sounds
funny right? Believe me, there was no fun involved for me. I went down to the foreign
police, and with a lot of talking and crying, I convinced them to make a cedula for me. It
took at least three months to get that cedula with "alien" stamped on it, and then I had
to present myself to the police every 6 months. That was what they did to me, while
they had let in all war criminals, the big leaders and killer Nazis to the land. Like Dr.
Mengele, who was called "the angel of death" in Auschwitz, Eichman the butcher of the
Jews, who had worked out the details of murdering Jews and others. They did not have
to present themselves to the police every six months, no. They even made false papers
for them, so the world tribunal could not find, prosecute, and hang them, for their war
crimes. All those things I had no knowledge of at the time, had I known, We would have
probably landed in the U.S.A. Anyway, I had to find a job and I had to get an apartment
for ourselves.
Papa was at the time a small partner in a shirt factory. He got me a job there, piece
work sewing. I worked very hard and the pay was bad. I rented an apartment; but could
not do it without my father’s help. I did not make enough money to pay the rent and for
food for my children. Papa, may he rest in peace, helped me in any way he could. He
gave me every month 50 Pesos for the rent, the rent was 100 Pesos per month. I had a
talk with the owner of the apartment and he took $10 Pesos off of the rent if I cleaned
the hallway and the sidewalk, in front of the house, every day. That also helped. I took
work home and worked half the night in order to make ends meet. It was very
exhausting. Our apartment was very nice. It had a large living room, a large bedroom,
and a nice kitchen, a patio and a nice back yard with two large trees in it. A good place
for the children to play and grow up in. I bought second hand furniture, only the most
important things we needed: beds for the children and for me, a table, and six chairs
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and some dishes. I bought all these with my dear Papa's help. Betty helped by buying
some dishes for me. Mutti helped me a lot with the children. She took care of them, for
me, while I went to work. I got my first big fright in the apartment in one of the first
nights we spent there. I was not feeling too good and in the middle of the night, I went
to the kitchen to get something to drink. I stepped on something and it crushed, I turned
the light on and I saw black. I mean that literary, black, the floor was covered with
“cucarachas” (cockroaches) and black. These cockroaches were about 3 inches long
and I had stepped on one, crushing it. I felt sick. Even in Shanghai I had never seen
such large cockroaches. I opened the door to the patio, took the broom and swept the
roaches out to the patio and from there on to the back yard. I left the light on in the
kitchen, hoping that they would not come in again. I also washed the floor where I had
crushed that darn cockroach. I was afraid if I left it there, the whole family and friends of
cockroaches, would come for that one’s funeral. The next day Mutti gave me some
DDT, and that took care of them.
In March the school year started. I had to get Mike into school. My poor mother, I know
how difficult it must have been for her to take care of my children and believe me, they
were not easy to take care of, but my mother never complained. Sometimes, Lotte and
Josef took Leon off her hands and kept him for a whole week in their home. Believe
me, they did not have it easy. They lived on the same street where Rosa and her family
lived, on Avenida General Mosconi. They had a two-room apartment, the rooms were
even smaller then Rosa's and they had two girls and one boy. Most of the time they
lived on the patio. The kitchen was so small that two people could not go into it. The
kitchen was like a bird-nest, one gets in, the other had to get out, and in that crowded
area they still fit us in! I liked them. They were very nice to us. Josef too worked at the
factory and I think that Leo his son, worked there as well. Almost all of the immigrants
had to work very hard, to make a very poor living.
I started at home to speak only in Spanish to both of my children to help Mike get into
his proper class when school started. When the school year started I had problems to
get Mike into the proper class. He was 9 years old and was supposed to go to the 3 rd
grade. Because he did not speak the Spanish well they put him in the 2 nd grade. I did
not like that and neither did Mike. He told me that his bleached blonde teacher, was an
idiot, she told the class that the Jews killed their G"d, Jesus. All the children looked at
my Mike and they started their own harassment on the only Jew they knew, Mike, it
started again: anti-Semitism. I had hoped that my children would never have to go
through that and felt very bad about it. I was fighting with the school structure to get
Mike at least into the class he should be in for his age, to no avail. I helped both of them
with their Spanish, and helped Mike into his proper class. They also forgot their
German. For years they did not want to speak German, because of the Holocaust, and,
no matter what I told them, that a language, even German, is very important to know.
Besides, I stressed, that one should always know the language of one’s enemies.
Nothing helped. Soon the children learned Spanish. After Hans arrived we only spoke in
German to them, at least they understood it.
In the mean time I tried to get the children into a day care center, I had to make life
easier on my dear mother. Mutti had Leon with her almost all the time and, believe me,
he was not an easy child to take care of. Then she had to take Mike to school, bring
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him home and keep him also for the whole afternoon, until I came back from work and
took them home with me. Besides I had to do something about it – Mutti's diabetes only
complicated the problems, though she hardly ever complained.
There was a Jewish day care center, the "Pestalozzi School," where I wanted to get my
children taken care of. It was a beautiful place. Small children went to Kindergarten in
the morning and stayed there until 5pm. Older children, like Mike, were picked up by
employees of the Pestalozzi school from their respective schools, went to and stayed at
the school, made their homework there, and played the rest of the time with the other
children under good supervision also until 5pm. The children were also fed at the
school, lunch and two snacks. This school was only about 6 blocks away from where
we lived and was precisely what I needed. I still needed my mother to bring them home
because I could not get there in time after I left my work. Wanting to get the children
into that school is one thing, getting them in, is another.
This school, although it was sponsored by the Jewish Community, was
expensive for me to take care of my children. Maybe it was not so much for others. But
for me, since I was already taking in homework and working half the night to make ends
meet, it was out of reach. I was already cleaning the hallway and the stairs for the
landlord, to get 10 Pesos reduced in my rent payments! I now had to do what I had
hoped, I would never have to do again, I had to go to the Jewish Community to get help
for my children. The help was refused. They said, that I had my parents and my sisters
there, they should help me. My sisters could not help me. Rosa and Max, with their
three boys, were struggling for a living and never had enough. Betty had just started to
work in a pharmacy as a sales person and brought the money she earned to my
parents. They in turn helped me with every thing they could and could not do more than
they already were doing. I was discouraged, I did not know what to do. Then Papa
came up with an idea. Alfred Korn had helped Papa to get me in to Buenos Aires. He
was a very influential man in the Community. Maybe, if I went to him with my problem,
he would be able to convince the Jewish Community to give me some help, at least to
reduce the amount of money they were asking from me.
I called the Korn residence and was invited to their home to talk things over. What a
home! I could never forget it, they lived in the penthouse at the corner of Cabildo and
Monroe in Belgrano, a very elegant building. It was furnished with a luxury I had never
seen before. I was very impressed, not only about the luxury but the way they treated
me and the interest they took in my case. I know that when I started talking, I started
feeling sorry for myself and my tears were running down my cheeks. I had not even
brought a handkerchief with me. I was so ashamed, that I felt even more embarrassed
and more tears were running and so was my nose. Mrs. Korn went out and brought me
a handkerchief and told me to keep it. She was a very nice lady and he was a
gentleman. After 46 years, I still have that hanky, I don't use it any more, but whenever I
see it in my drawer, I think of that visit with them. They spoke to the right people and my
children were admitted into the Pestalozzi school for a price I could afford. That was a
blessing. I was, and I still am, very thankful to them, for their interest and the help I got
through them.
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I could not do anything for Hans until I would receive my cedula (I.D.) and so I threw
myself into working very hard. I also was sewing dresses for ladies and doing
alterations. I was doing anything to bring in some money, to feed and to clothe my
children. Something happened at the firm where my father was a part associate. The
firm was loosing business. They had to let practically every seamstress go. I could only
get homework and that only because Papa was an associate. I don't really know what
was going on, I was too occupied to eke out a living for us and had enough work to
occupy me at home, but not enough to take care of all our expenses. Papa still was
helping me to make ends meet. But I knew that it was a big hardship on him and I had
no idea of how long he would be able to help me.
I had no time to socialize with any of my neighbors because I was to busy working.
After about three months I was notified by the foreign police to come for my cedula.
They send me an appointment to be there at 11: a.m. Rosa said, that she wanted to
come with me. I don't know, nor do I remember, what happened that day. I only
remember that it was late, when I arrived at Rosa's store with the streetcar. Rosa was
waiting for me outside and we tried to take a cab, but we could not get one. I decided to
hitchhike, Rosa said that she would not go that way, so I said, that I would go by myself.
A car stopped for me and that guy, a middle aged man very nice, asked me where I
was going and I told him of my emergency. He said that he was actually going in the
other direction; but he saw the pressure I was in and said, that he would take us to
Chacaritas, where we could take the underground train. Rosa did not want to go, but
decided not to let me go all by myself with a stranger and came with me. I told the man,
as we were driving, that if he would see an empty cab, to honk the horn to stop it and
we would transfer to the cab. And that is what he did. We were almost in Chacaritas,
when he spotted a taxi and we transferred into it. You see, there are a lot of nice people
in the world, willing to give a helping hand, he was one of them. We made it in time and
I received my Cedula.
From the foreign police we went directly to the Immigration Department, where I was
told, that I would have to wait for two years to make papers for Hans. One of the
officials, seeing how disturbed I was with the news, told me that it would be helpful, if I
would get an appointment with the first lady, Evita Peron. He was sure, that I would get
permission from her for a “llamada” (a special relative visa) for my husband. He had
some cases before mine who had gotten the llamada through Evita. Now, how does
one get an appointment with the first lady? Well it so happened, that he had a friend
who was a friend of Mrs. Peron's secretary, and she could for sure get me an
appointment with her. He knew it, because he had done it for others before. He wrote
down the name of a ‘Bureacrat #1”, on a card, a phone number and the address of the
office where I could reach him.
‘Bureacrat #1’, was an employee in one of the large administration buildings in Buenos
Aires, not very far from the Casa Rosada. (Like the White House in Washington D.C.) I
thought, that maybe with a bribe to Sr. Bustos, I could get an appointment with Evita
Peron. I was willing to try it. When I got home, I talked it over with Papa and Mutti and I
called him the following day. After I told him what I needed from him, he said that he
can do that for me and he asked me, to come to his office before 12:noon, so that we
could go for a cup of coffee and talk things over. Mutti was afraid, she did not want me
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to go. I asked her, "What could he possibly do to me?" and she told me, that she had a
bad feeling about it. I calmed her down and I went to meet Sr. Bustos.
‘Bureacrat #1’ worked in a very nice building. He had an office together with another
gentleman, there were two desks in the office. I don't remember what kind of a title he
had. He was a short, dark, heavy, about 45 years old, and very ugly and unattractive.
As soon as I put my eyes on him, I got the feeling that Mutti was right somehow. He
greeted me very friendly and walked out with me through the large office adjoining his
own with lots of desks where men and women were typing on their typewriters. I did not
like the way he took my arm and walked through that large office with me. I had the
feeling, that he was showing me off, like saying, look with whom I am going! After all, I
was only 25 year's old, and not bad looking. As bad as I felt being shown off like that, I
thought, if that is all, let him have his pleasure. He took me to a little restaurant, and
invited me to eat with him. I refused, but said that I would have a cup of coffee. Then I
told him again of my problem and that I was told, that he could help me to get an
audience with Evita Peron. He opened a document case he had been carrying with him
and showed me some documents he had. These were papers for audiences with the
first lady. Only the name of the supplicant and the date and time of the interview, had to
be filled in. After I had read the papers, he put them back in his case. Then he said to
me audaciously: "Before I get the interview for you with the first lady, I want to go with
you to an "amueblado." I had no idea of what he was talking about, since I did not
expect to hear something like that. So I asked, "Where do you want to go with me?"
and he repeated," To an “amueblado,” to make “cutchy, cutchy with you." (Amueblado
is like a motel) I found out. After I recovered from the insult, I mentioned to him, that I
came prepared to pay for his help, but what he was asking from me, was not something
I considered to pay with. He said that he did not need my money, either I go with him, or
no audition. I stood up, called the waiter, he came and Bustos got dark in his face of
anger, as he wanted to pay for me – it is not customary for a lady to pay her own way in
Argentina. It was my way to get even with him. I turned around, paid the waiter and
walked out. That was the end of an interview with Evita Peron. I don't know how I got
home that day, I was so angry, that if it would have been possible, I would have
exploded. When I told Mutti about it, she said, that she had anticipated something like
that and that was why, she did not want me to go in the first place.
Now I had to try plan # 2. I had to get in contact with the Boviers in Paraguay. I had
envisioned complications and that was confirmed, I had difficulties to bring Hans over
from China. I wrote to them and asked for their help. I was right in my judgement of
people. The Boviers were absolutely marvelous. They answered me instantly and
started to make the arrangements for Hans to immigrate to Paraguay. It did not take
very long for them to prepare them, in a short time, I received the llamada for Hans and
send the papers to Shanghai. It took several months for Hans to leave Shanghai, if my
memory does not fail me, he arrived in Buenos Aires, "in transit," in the month of
November 1947. Eleven months after the children and I had left China.
Life, hard life for me, went on. I worked day and night, but was happy to be close to my
parents and the family. Mutti and Papa lived seven blocks away from where we were
living. Mutti came almost every evening to be with me. We talked a lot while I was
sewing on my machine. We had a lot of catching up to do for the time we were
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separated. She put the children to bed for me, washed the dishes and prepared the
breakfast for us. Mutti and Papa were such a big help to me. It is very hard to describe.
I always loved you both and will never stop loving you and thanking you, for all the
things you did for my children and me.
One night I remember distinctively, because of the things that happened. Every time
Mutti left in the evening and the children were already asleep, I walked with Mutti for
four blocks, until we reached Calle Cabildo, as I did not want her to walk alone on the
dark street. Calle Congreso where we lived was a residential street and at night not too
many people walked around there. On the other hand Calle Cabildo, was a business
street, full of lights until midnight and even later, there were lots of people around, just
walking and window shopping. This evening, we had a very good conversation going
and we did not want to break it up, so Mutti came back with me. Then of course I went
back with Mutti, we did that about three times. Getting back into my apartment, I looked
first for the children, they were asleep; but something seemed strange. The kitchen
door leading to the patio was open. I knew that I had closed and locked the door from
the inside. I checked and nothing seemed to be missing, so I went to bed. Early in the
morning, while the children were still asleep, I went out to the patio and I saw that the
stepladder I had for picking the fruit from the trees was leaning on the wall separating
our yard from the neighbor’s yard. That was strange. I had never put the ladder against
the wall. I had not yet met those neighbors, since they were living on the side street
around the corner and the wall leading to their back yard, was too high to see them and
to get to know them. Still wondering about how the ladder got to the wall, I climbed up a
few steps and looked over the wall. My neighbor's were up and as soon as they saw my
head showing, they came over to talk to me. They told me that they had been debating
with each other, weather to go around the corner to see me, or to climb up their ladder
and call me from the top of the wall, when suddenly my head appeared on the wall. I
could not understand, what they were talking about, and then they explained it to me.
The night before, while I was walking with my mother, they heard children crying outside
in their back yard. They went to check where the crying came from and then they saw
both my children sitting on the wall and crying for their mother. They put their ladder
against the wall, climbed up to hold the children. The neighbors were afraid that the
children could fall off. Mike and Leon, with crocodile tears rolling down their cheeks,
told them that their mother had disappeared, that I had not come home for days and
that they were starving. The lady went to her house and brought some cookies for my
poor starving children. Then they climbed over the wall, took the children into my
apartment and put them to bed, waited for a few minutes, till the children fell asleep and
then left, climbing over the wall back to their home. They told me, that they were afraid
to wait for me to come home, because they thought that, if I came home and found
strangers in my apartment, they could be in big trouble. I think, that I would probably
have had a heart attack. Needless to say, that they did not sleep that night, worrying
and thinking that maybe I really had left them? I explained to them, about my walking
with my mother that evening, more then usual. But it could not have been more then
one hour that I was out of the apartment, maybe even less. After thanking them for
what they had done for my children, we became good friends. Mike told me later, that
Leon woke up and called for me. When I did not come to him, he woke Mike and Mike
went looking for me. The kids got fearful, went out to the yard and then when the
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neighbors came to their rescue, made up a nice story of being abandoned. From then
on, when I went with Mutti taking her to Cabildo, we did not stretch our talks any more, I
raced home to my children, it never happened again.
It did not take very long for my little Mike to get on to his proper class in school. He was
a very good student. He also started Hebrew School in the afternoon. One thing I found
very nice in Argentina, the children wear snow-white school-uniforms – I think they still
do. They were starched and ironed and every child had to wear one to school. It was
done like that, so that every child looked and dressed the same. There was no
distinction between rich and poor, they all looked alike. Although it was extra work for
me to starch and iron, I did that with pleasure. I loved to see the children in the
mornings, they looked like little white doves on the streets. It always gave me a lift. I too
loved it, when I had the time, to wait in the school-yard, to watch when they raised the
Argentinean flag, the children in formation around the flagpole, singing the national
anthem. This was really something I enjoyed the most. I was asking myself, why was I
so thrilled about it? Was it because the children performed it, or because I was not
used to it, or was it because I felt a sort of security and belonging? Maybe it was all of it
put together, I really don't know and it is not important, I just loved it.
One day my mother called me from work. She had been called to pick up Mike and to
take him to the doctor: Mike had a little accident. When I came to the hospital, my
mother had taken him to, I could hardly recognize my little Mike. His face was swollen
and he had a lot of bleeding scratches on his face and on his hands. He was bruised all
over. What happened was that all the children used to read comic books – I think that
at that time they started with superman stories. I was told that the children were playing
outside, by the slide, and Mike, instead of sliding down, opened his arms and said he
was superman and jumped down. He of course denies that now and always did. But the
truth is, he had a very bad fall. We were very lucky that it was not worse. He did not
brake any bones, but he chipped of a corner of one of his front teeth's, still there.
I don't know precisely when it was, but I know it was long before Hans came to
Argentina, that my dear father had to have surgery. He had some problems with the
gallbladder and the liver. It was a very difficult operation and the doctor did not give us
much hope for his survival. He said to us one night after surgery, this is his critical night,
if he survives this night, he will live on. We my mother, Rosa, Betty and I, were sitting
there the whole night, very scared, waiting for Papa to wake up. I don't remember if I
wrote about Papa, that he was a real comedian, he could entertain a theater full of
people. He was never short of an answer and very funny. He was liked very much liked
by most of the people who knew him. We were waiting and it was getting light, when
Papa opened his eyes. He looked at Mutti and he said in a very weak voice: "Dora, go
home, put on your nicest dress and all your jewelry, fix up your hair and your face and
then come back to me." Mutti got very upset and she said: "Josef, what are you asking
of me, you are here so sick in the hospital and you want me to dress and doll myself up,
what for?" Papa lifted his hand and moved his finger for Mutti to come closer to him,
and then he said: "Dora, I have the feeling that the Malach Hamoves (angel of death) is
on his way to pick me up, but if he will see you, so beautiful in all the glitter, he may
change his mind and take you instead." When we heard that, knowing my dad, we
knew that he was over the hill. He got well and we had him home in no time at all.
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Life went on without too many changes. It was winter already and very cold and humid
in Buenos Aires, the seasons are different in Argentina from Shanghai. When it is hot
here, like June, July and August, it is winter and cold over there. I worked, had a nice
clientele and earned enough now, so that I could do without taking money from my dear
father, which made me very happy. I had a lot of alterations to do, which I really never
liked to do. But I made money with them and that was the important thing. I did not
have much recreation; but on the weekends I went with my children to Rosa and family,
or to Josef and Lotte Rogozinski. Some weekends we all got together in my apartment,
naturally Mutti and Papa came too. We had a very good family life together. I also
planted some flowers on the edges of our yard, but was very frustrated, because as
soon as the flowers where blossoming, the ants were eating them to the ground. Those
were some ants, I could not get rid of them. They were very large and impossible to
destroy. I finally gave up and found my joy in observing them, they worked so hard and
I was amazed on how they could carry parts of a leaf three times as large as they were
to their hole in the ground. It was fascinating; I did not plant anything any more and left
them alone.
In August 1947, I finally received the message from Hans, that he was almost ready to
leave Shanghai. He had received the transit-visa through the United States and was
travelling by boat via San Francisco. He did not have the difficulties I had, to get his
visa. Somehow everything came easy to him. He even stayed in San Francisco for two
or three weeks, before he took another boat to come via Argentina to Paraguay. I wrote
to him to bring a nice gift to Mme. Bovier and he brought her a lovely Japanese Kimono.
He passed through Buenos Aires and had to remain in an emigration building in
custody for three days, until he could go on to Paraguay. He did not stay long in
Paraguay, by the end of 1947 he entered legally as a naturalized Paraguayan in
Argentina. I don't know how the Boviers did it. But it was done and again the four of us
were together.
During the time I was with my children alone in Argentina I was happy, I had forgotten
how bad my life was with Hans. I tried very much to keep some harmony in our home,
but it was very strenuous on me. Hans tried his part too, but it did not work. We got into
a lot of arguments. Whatever I did, was not good and what was worse, he found only
fault on my parents, my family and even with his brother and family. Everybody was bad
and mean, only he was good and right in everything he did. He had gotten even more
conceited then he was before. I had brought him over to be close to his children, I could
never have lived with myself, had I just left him there. Now he made our life miserable
again, but at least, he was trying to take care of his family.
Hans opened a little shoe-repair shop and started to work in it. I have to give him credit
for one thing: he was a very good shoemaker. Work was coming in, but there was one
problem, he wanted me to be with him in the store. I had my work established already
and even though I did not like to do alterations, it was good money I brought in. Hans
did not let off me, and in order to keep peace in the house, I decided to go with him to
the store. There really was not much to do there for me, and then when we came home
together, I had to start cooking, pick up the children and sewing on my home-piece
work, which I had not given up, as we needed that money too. There was one good
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thing, we lived very close to Fanny, just about 3/4 of a block away, and when Hans and
I started an argument, I escaped to Fanny, until I had cooled off, this way I avoided
major trouble. We were now pretty much being left alone. Hans, being picky on
everybody, was not liked very much and being left to our selves, was the result of it. For
about two years, I tried my best to manage to stay together with him, but finally I gave
up and told him that I want a divorce from him.
Divorce was out of the question, as there is no divorce in Argentina. Argentina is a
Catholic country, there are no divorces. The only thing we could do, was to file for
separation. Hans did not want to hear about any of those things. He wanted to stay
together with our children and me. He started to play up to my parents, to his brother
and to my sisters, telling them how much he loved me and the children and that he did
not want to break up our home. He promised that he would change and the whole
family started telling me, to give him another chance. They told me, that what I was
trying to do was making orphans of my children. Besides, I would not even be able to
get married again with just a separation. I really had hoped that I would have the
backing of my family and was very disappointed. With all that opposition against me, I
kept on struggling. I had a very bad feeling about the whole situation, somehow it
seemed to me that they were afraid of trouble arising from the separation, or that they
would have to help me in ways, they where not up to! I don't know, but it left a bitter
taste in my mouth.
We stayed together, and Hans made a big afford to change his ways, but kept falling
back. Somewhere somebody said and I believe it is true: "There is no way, that you can
teach an old dog, new tricks." Since it was too difficult for me to go to the store with
Hans every day, we decided to get a bigger store with an apartment in the back, like
Rosa had, and also sell shoes in the store. So we started looking for one and found one
on Calle Nazca 2822, in Villa del Parque. It was not very far from where Rosa lived.
There was one large room, which we divided into a bedroom for the kid's and a small
living room where we had folding beds to open at night for us. The store was very nice
and large enough to have room and a place for Hans to work at. We even had a little
room for the polishing and buffer machine Hans needed for his repair work. There also
was a tiny kitchen with patio. There was a small toilet with a tiny wash basin and we
installed a tiny electric shower in it.
After moving there, I gave up my homework and dedicated myself to sell shoes and
alpargatas. The apartment in the back of the store was much smaller then the one
Rosa had, but we had lived with less comfort in Shanghai and we knew we could
survive it. Little by little we established a business there and we were doing quite well.
My parents and Rosa and family belonged to La Nueva Comunidad Israelita (The New
Jewish Community) and we joined them too. We had a nice Synagogue on Calle Arcos,
but it was in Belgrano but now that we lived in Villa del Parque, a little too far for us to
go to the Sabbath services. In the summertime we went to the weekend place
belonging to the community. There was a swimming pool on the grounds and we also
played all sort of games there. The kids loved it. We all loved to swim in the pool, even
my mother did a lot of swimming, it was a lot of fun and we were all together. It was
pretty far out to go there, no one in our family had a car. We had to take the colectivo
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(bus) to go to the train and then by train to Olivos, that’s where our weekend place was.
We even had a beach there at the La Plata river, but we did not use it as it was too
dirty. In general this was our only recreation; the rest was work. The main thing was that
we were not dependent on any committees or welfare from anyone any more. I started
paying off my debt and more, to the Jewish Organizations for all they had done for us,
to save our lives. In this way we helped to continue the work, of other lives to be saved.
We had very nice neighbors, they were all friendly, helpful and supportive of each other.
I became very good friends with Doña Maria Marcos and her family. Her husband,
Cipriano, was the lechero (milkman) in our block. They had a very nice looking store on
the corner of Nazca and Marcos Sastre, with all sorts of cheeses butter and other sorts
of milk products. They had two boys and one little girl, Maria del Carmen. We became
very good friends. It did not make one bit of a difference, that we were Jewish and they
were Catholics. We truly loved, supported and respected each other and we spent
some wonderful and happy hours with each other. Doña Maria and I became confidants
with each other, we shed quite often tears together, telling each other our “tzores”
(problems). I could not tell my dear mother everything, for example, I could not tell her
that Hans did not have a good word for any of them. I was torn on all sides. Mutti told
me once – and she was absolutely right – and I quote. "When you want to know, if a
person likes you, think! And ask yourself, do I like that person? If your answer to
yourself is no. You can rest assured that this person does not like you." I really believe
that Mutti was right, because I have tried it myself and found out that she was right. I
knew that they did not like or care for each other, but I could not talk freely about it to
either of them. I made the best I could about it and suffered in silence. But at times, I
could not keep quiet any more and then I exploded. At those times Hans had nothing to
laugh about, as I let myself go. After I quieted down, there was some kind of peace
between us – until my cup ran over again. Hans was the quiet type, he could in, a quiet
way, take your “Neschamah” (soul) out. He would needle me like with a knife and turn it
around in me. I on the other hand would eat it in me for a while, but then as I said, I
would explode.
During all of this time our situation, the Nuerenberg Trial in Germany against the war
criminals, kept our minds very busy. All the brutalities, tortures and monstrosities, done
to human beings, mostly to our people, came to light. We have to hope and to pray,
that such things should never happen again. We have to do everything in our power to
preserve the memories. What happened in the Third Reich in Germany should never be
forgotten. The things coming out of this trial were unthinkable. No normal thinking
human being could come up with such savage behavior. The world was shocked and
could not believe it possible, what humans did to humans. To say bestiality of the things
that went on would be an insult to the animal world. Animals kill only for food, and they
killed and tortured for their own perverted pleasures. Most of those monsters were
hanged. Too bad, that Hitler escaped the hangman, he killed himself before he got into
the hands of the allies. We, the Jews, had lost a third of our population in the Holocaust
and we still had no homeland to go to and still, nobody wanted us.
The British did not let the Jews into Palestine. Ships with survivors of the Holocaust,
wanting to go to Palestine, were intercepted by the English and the Jews were shipped
to the Greek island of Cyprus, into a detention camp – again. They had not suffered
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enough it seemed; but at least they had enough to eat and were under medical care;
but again, behind barbed wire and living in tents. It was not a good situation to be in.
But even with the British watching and intercepting the incoming ships, lots of boats got
through and the Haganah and the Irgun (underground armies) got them in the middle of
the night from their boats and integrated them in to Kibbuzim (settlements). It was a
hectic time for our Jewish people. I remember when the ship "Exodus" was not allowed
to sail to Palestine and the Holocaust survivors, started a Hunger strike on the boat, we
all started fasting with them to support them. I remember Papa was fasting for three
days. The Irgun were fighting the British and vice versa. Finally the British gave up, or
were forced to give up, and the Jewish problem was brought to the United Nations. I
never knew what an effort it was to get our displaced Jewish people on boats to go to
Palestine and then to be refused their entry and sending them to Cyprus in the camps
behind barbed wires. If you want to find out about it, also about the force behind
defending the new Israel to be, please read the book "The Pledge" by Leonard Slater. I
have that book. It is an eye-opener.
I think it was in September or October in 1947, when the debate began in the UN.
Never will I forget the time when it came to a vote in the United Nations General
Assembly, meeting in a former war plant on Long Island, voted 33 to 13 to partition
Palestine into two separate countries. Day and night we were sitting by the radio. There
was no television and the radio transmission from the United Nations building in New
York, did not come through well. I see my Papa his head almost glued to the radio, in
order not to miss a word that was said, with pencil and paper writing down every vote.
And when we finally got the vote, A vote that only gave us one eighth of the size of what
we were pledged to in the Balfour declaration. We were screaming and laughing and
hugging and kissing each other, we had a land! Our people had a home! Our people
could go home! How sweet it was to say, we have a home. After two thousand years of
exile, we again had a home to go to. The date for the British to leave Palestine for good
was set for May 15, 1948. I must say, it was a heck of an interesting time we were living
in.
I remember May 15, 1948, when the state of Israel was declared by David Ben Gurion,
what a glorious day it was for us, for all the Jews in the whole world. As soon as the
State of Israel was declared, the Arabs attacked and war was on. In spite of the war, we
had a big celebration in Buenos Aires three days later on May 18, 1948 in the Luna
Park (A major park in Buenos Aires). Two hundred thousand people came to the park
to celebrate. I remember that day and the days before this big event, very well. First of
all cousin Fanny had a hysterectomy, two days before the event. The first night,
Mendel, her husband stayed with her in the hospital over night. The second night it was
my turn to stay with her, to take care of her, as she was a very sick lady. But when the
night was over, I went to the Luna Park directly from the hospital and that was an
achievement. It seemed that all of Buenos Aires was on the way to the Luna Park. First
I took a bus to the railway station; I was squeezed in like a sardine. At the railway
station the lines for tickets were so long, that when the train arrived, I was still very far
from getting a ticket. I left the line and jumped on the train. Others did the same thing
that I did, so we were all hanging outside the train, one holding on to the other. We
must have looked like a Christmas tree, nothing new for Buenos Aires, but it was a first
timer for me. This was the first and only time that I traveled without paying for my fare.
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Sure a day to remember. The other reason that all these things are still so imbedded in
my mind is, that the British, while they were still in power, expressed their anger for
having to give up Palestine, by taking away weapons from the Jewish population, up to
their last day in power, and giving these to the Arabs to attack the Jews. When they
finally left Palestine, they left all their "weaponry" to their "Arab Friends." and as soon as
the state of Israel was declared, it was already engaged in a war. The third thing I
remember was, That in all that hassle of Two Hundred Thousand Jews at the Luna
Park, I found Hans and my children there, purely accidentally. The celebration gave all
of us a big lift.
Then when the just established Jewish state was at war, the Jews in the whole world
showed their solidarity to our tiny state. Groups of young men and women from
everywhere, were arriving in Israel to help fight the Arabs, weaponry was bought and
smuggled out from all over the world and brought to Israel, by ships and by airplanes.
Ships and more ships arrived with new Immigrants in Israel. Not a day went by without
more and more news from Israel. All this went on during the time when we tried to
normalize our lives and business in Argentina. But our hearts and our “Neshamahs”
were all the time with Israel and its struggle for survival. I don't know my grand- and
great grand children; if you will learn about the struggle young Israel went through, the
difficulties and the loss of lives of young pioneers by Arab bullets, knives and other
cruelties. The horror went on for years and, even now, 44 years later, Israel is still
struggling and fighting off hostile neighbors in order to survive. When will the time come
that Israel will be able to live in peace with its neighbors? In Argentina as well as all
over the world, Jewish youth gathered together and went to Israel to help in the fight for
survival of the Jewish State. The United Jewish Appeal was implemented all over the
world and, in Argentina, the Jewish communities enforced it in a very strong way. Jews,
most of them go to Schul only on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. Well, no Jew could
go to Schul (temple) on those days unless they could show a certificate that they had
paid their contribution to the U.J.A. – and this according to the amount they were
dictated to by the Jewish authorities. The way they did it was, a delegation from
different temples came to the businesses of their members and made sure, that they
paid the amount which was acceptable by the Jewish community and not a penny less
for the United Jewish Appeal. I remember that they came to our business and told us
how much we had to pay. I did not have the money at that time, but it was already
before the high holidays, so they made us sign a "pagare" (a note saying that we would
pay on such day and month). As you can see, there was no escape. If you wanted to go
to Shul and be a Jew, you had to pay, unless you were not affiliated at all.
From our friends in Shanghai we heard that most of them had left. Franz Fischer went
with his wife to Dresden, East Germany. After he went, we were not in contact any
more as Dresden was in the then Russian zone and, at that time, communication was
not possible. Georg Maerz went to New York and got married there, we were in contact
with him. Marcus Loeffel also went to New York and married Berta, a lovely lady whom I
met later. (Kiki) Victor Stummer, and (Edy) David Weintraub remained longer in
Shanghai, I think until 1949. We were in contact until they left. Later I received a letter, I
think it must have been in 1953, from (Edy) David and that letter came from Israel. He
was in a Kibbutz near Haifa. I wrote to him, but did not get a response and later after I
left for the United States, I lost his address. Rega and Ernst Levita also the Wolf family
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as well as lots of other friends, left for San Francisco, were they are still living. I was in
contact with many of them during the time we were struggling to make a living in
Argentina.
When we moved to the new store and apartment, we also had to move the children into
new schools. I got them in to a school 1 and ½ blocks away from our store and living
quarters. Mike had classes in the afternoon, and when it came to Leon to start school,
he had his classes in the morning. So far all went well. It is customary in Argentina to
bring home a report card every month. Two notes were written in it for every thing,
sufficient or insufficient. Only in behavior they wrote good, bad, or admissible. Now my
Mike was a very good student. He had always been, so I was very surprised to see that
he was given an insufficient in mathematics. Talking with Mike did not bring any results,
he did not know as to why he was given insufficient. I decided to go and talk to the
teacher. One would think that that was easy, not for me. I had to go first to the principal
of the school and talk to him; I did, and asked him that I would like to hear from the
teacher at what it was that my son was failing in. The principal, for one reason or
another, did not give me permission to talk to the teacher. I insisted to talk to him, I said
that I had a right to talk to my son's teacher and to find out in what it was that he was
failing in. He told me that the teacher knows what he is doing and if he got an
insufficient in his math, I should have him take private classes. At the time I did not
want to argue any further with him; but I went very unsatisfied home. Neither Hans nor I
could help Mike with his Math and so I looked for a teacher for him. I found a very nice
lady, who was a full-fledged teacher in a different school and I explained to her our
dilemma. After Mike took two lessons from her, she came to me and she said: "I like to
make extra money and I need it, but I can not understand why you send your son to
me. Do you want him to teach math to me?" She said that he knew everything he had
to know in his class and more, and did not want me to throw out money for lessons
Mike did not need. I decided to wait for the next report. Again, he brought home an
insufficient in Math.
This time I decided that I would have a talk with his teacher. The same thing happened
as the first time, but I did not let up. One word followed another, I insisted and he
denied me to see him. The principal got angry and then he said something to me that
cleared every thing. He said and I quote: "Ustedes los judios, siempre esperan un
tratamiento especial!" ( You Jews, always expect a special treatment!) Now I knew with
whom I was dealing and I told him so. No, I did not tell him so, I shouted it out and
accused him with all the things that were on my heart against the Nazis and I called him
a Nazi: "You are an anti-Semite and for that reason you want my son to fail in school,
and ruin his life!" When he heard me calling him a Nazi, he went wild and gave me the
old anti-Semitic quotation's: "How can you call me a Nazi? Some of my best friends are
Jews!" At all that going on, it was so quiet in the school, one could hear a pin drop. I
told him that I will take my children out of his school, immediately; but that was not
possible. He told me with a smirk on his face, that I would have to bring an authorization
from the board of education and who would take my children in to another school in the
middle of the year? “We will see,” I said and left the school. That evening our business
was full of children and parents, congratulating me for daring to give that principal hell.
They were all happy about it, because he was known to be very mean.
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The following morning I went to the board of education. They told me that the principal
was right. I could not take the children out just like that, that I had to have another
school accepting my children for the rest of the year. About my complaint, they did not
say much and from what they said, I could feel their hidden anti-Semitism. They
promised me that they would give me an authorization as soon as the children were
accepted in another school. After I had gone to some of the schools in our
neighborhood without accomplishing anything, because these schools were overly
filled, I went to the school where Rosa's children were going. It was far, Mike would
have to take the bus to go there, but I got lucky there. I spoke to the principal and told
him the whole story. He was very nice to me and he said that although they were filled
up, he would take him in. Because, otherwise, Mike would loose his interest in studying,
if he had to remain in the same atmosphere. He was a very nice man and he assured
me whenever I saw him later on, that I had done the right thing and that Mike was an
excellent student. For Leon I found a girl school right around the block from us. Since
he was in first grade, he could go up to and including the second grade to the girls’
school. I also told the lady principal about my run in with the other principal. She
accepted Leon in an overcrowded classroom, just to spite that unpleasant character of
a principal. It seemed that nobody liked him. I got my satisfaction the next day. In the
morning I brought Leon to school, an hour later I went to pick him up with the
authorization of the board of education and the transfer to the other school. I wanted
the children to be taken out of the classroom by the principal, to shame him and to
prove my point. I did the same in the afternoon with Mike. That principal was pale with
the displeasure and humiliation, when he turned Mike over to me. He said: "You are
making a big mistake taking him out of here." I answered him: "My mistake was to sign
him up here in the first place; my only excuse in doing that is, that I did not know who
you were and whom I would have to deal with, now I know." And with that I left the
school with Mike on my hand. For a long time we were the talk of the “barrio” (neighborhood). Never again did Mike bring an “insufficient” in math or in anything else home.
Life went on that way and then I became pregnant again, I felt awful. I found out about
a mid-wife who performed abortions. Argentina being Catholic, did not allow abortions,
but they did it anyway. Everything went well. It was not long after that abortion, when
one day I was going home on the bus, I could not get up from my seat. Something in
my abdomen was twisting around inside and hurting me very much. I remained in the
bus and had to go with it to the end station, where the chauffeur had to help me out of
the bus and called a taxi to take me home. The next day I had to go to see a doctor. I
was checked out thoroughly and they found out, that somehow all my organs in my
abdomen were twisted, nothing was in the right place and I had to have surgery very
quickly. I told them about my surgery in Shanghai and they could not believe what they
had done to me and that I lived that way for almost seven years. I had surgery and this
time it was not done from the bottom, but I was cut from one side to the other on my
abdomen. Later I was told by the doctors, that now everything was in its place, the way
it was supposed to be. I recovered well and about 6 months later I became pregnant
again. Now I was afraid to have another abortion and I decided to carry the child all the
way. This was in the middle of the year 1950. I felt very ashamed to be pregnant again,
Mike was 12 years old, but later on I was looking forward to have a little baby again and
so were Mike, Leon and even Hans.
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It must have been shortly after that time, that we had an argument with Lotte and Josef,
Hans’s brother and sister-in-law. For the life of me, I can not remember about what it
was, we were arguing about, but Josef and Lotte took all of these things very seriously
and became very “broiges” – i.e., angry, with us. Neither of them nor their children
talked to us again. I tried to restore the peace between us, but was very unsuccessful. It
went so far, that even on Jom Kippur when I tried to make “Sholom,” (peace) they did
not want it and remained “broiges.”
Our little business was going well. We needed more room for merchandise, so we
decided to find another little store for Hans to repair shoes, in order to have more room
to expand the store. Since we were already established in the store as a repair shop,
we would take the shoes to the other store to be repaired and this way our income
increased. All went fine, until one day in the morning Hans came back from the other
store slightly disturbed. He always came home for lunch, but now it was only 10:am. He
was very strange, he spoke as if he had something in his mouth. I could hardly
understand him. I went to my neighbor, at the “lecheria,” (dairy store) and phoned my
mother, asking her to please come over, as something has happened. Mutti came in
time when we were sitting down to have lunch. In the meantime I had discovered that
one side of Hans’s face seemed not to be moving, when he spoke or tried to smile. I
asked Mutti to watch it and Mutti also noted it. Off I went with him to the doctor. Result:
he had a light stroke. At that time I called Josef to tell him about Hans and he came
right over to see him. He came almost every day. Hans was at that time only 47 years
old. He had to stay in bed and be taken care of. Every day I had to give him some
injections, I don't remember what it was and he recovered completely. It did not take
long and he was working in his little store again, while I took care of our shoe business,
which went very well and I was getting bigger, on account of my pregnancy. I thought
that everything would be well with his brother and family, fat chance, after Hans
recovered the feud continued.
I was supposed to give birth at the end of February 1951 and I was under doctor’s care.
Things had a way of happening to me. I don't precisely remember when it was, I think it
was by end of December, one morning. The children were in school, Hans had left for
his store and I was all by myself. I was folding up our folding beds, my bed somehow
gave me problems to fold, when suddenly the whole iron frame collapsed and fell on my
right foot. I went down with it, the pain made me faint, I was lying on the floor, not being
able to get my foot out from under the frame. Luckily, a child came into the store to
bring some shoes for repair, I called out for her and she came running in to help me.
Together we managed to get my foot out, then I send her to my friend the “lechera,” to
come to help me. She put ice on my foot, but she thought, that it would be better, if I
would go to see a doctor. Rosa came and took me to see one and my foot was checked
and bandaged. A couple of weeks later, I had an appointment with my maternity doctor,
and he checked me very profoundly. He said, that all was well, but advised me to come
as soon as I feel a pain, or loose water or blood, without any delay to the hospital. I did
not know what it meant, but did not suspect anything. I did not feel too good, it seemed
to me that the child in me was not moving as it was before. I did not have much time to
think about it. I had too much work to do in the store and in my household. Once more I
went to see the doctor, I think it was about mid February. Again he said that all is well
and gave me the same advice as he did before. On February 26th, I started bleeding
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heavy. Rosa came right over and took me by taxi to the hospital. They put me right in to
the ward and the doctor told first Rosa and then me: my baby was dead, and that it was
already dead for at least a month. I was devastated. After all I had carried that child for
9 months and by now we were all looking forward to the new baby. After I finally got
over my shock, I asked the doctor, as to why they had not done anything before, if they
knew it already? The answer to that was, that it could have cost my life. That the child
had to come the normal way, that they could not have made a Cesarean cut, because it
could have poisoned my blood. Anyway, these three days until I gave birth to my dead
girl, of all things, on the 29th of February, were the most painful and the worst days of
my life. They would not give anything to calm my pain, they said that they needed all
the help I could give them, to bring that child out of me intact, otherwise my life was not
worth a penny. When the child came finally out, with the help of two midwives and three
doctors, it came out with a repugnant smell, but it was whole and intact. They asked me
if I wanted to see it, I did not. It was not over yet. The placentas took some more
struggling and time to get out. They were all worried. One of the midwives, I remember,
was on top of me, with her knees on my stomach pressing and her feet over my
shoulder, helping me to push that darn thing out of me. I was completely wiped out and
had no strength to push any more. On one side one of the doctors was keeping a
syringe in my arm and vein, he was at the order of the other doctors giving me every
time a little more of the stuff they were putting into me. I don't know how long it took to
get the placenta out – to me it seemed hours. And then when they had it out and
inspected it meticulously, They congratulated each other, and me that they had done it
and that I would go on living. I asked the doctors why my baby had died? They really
did not have an answer. They thought, that it was a possibility that the baby died, when
the frame of the bed fell onto my foot, but they were not sure what had happened. It
was difficult for me to be in a ward where every woman had a baby and I was left with
nothing and Mike, and Leon specially, felt terribly about the loss of that baby. There
was nothing we could do about it, life went on and I had two wonderful boys to take
care of.
I don't know when it came out, that Germany would start paying restitution to the
survivors of the Holocaust. We had to take an attorney and started our claims. None of
us believed that something would come out of it; but sure enough, although it took a
long time, they came through. We received for being in Shanghai in a ghetto, Hans and
I each $2500 U.S. dollars. For the children we got nothing. For my education, because I
left Germany when I was 12 years old and could not finish my education, I received
another $2500. My two sisters received also the same amount I had gotten for their
education. And that was all we got from Germany. Now my parents, that was a different
story. They had to wait a very long time, They received for the loss of their business
and their whole household about $12 to $14,000 dollars – but I am not sure about it,
because when my parents got the money, end of 1957, we were already in the USA.
Anyway, I was very happy that my parents received the money, still in time to enjoy it –
24 years after we had to run away from Germany.
Our Jewish youth in Argentina, started to go to “Hachsharah,” to learn how to take care
of land and farms in preparation to go to Israel to settle there. Israel was constantly at
war with its neighbors. Someone once said "The best neighbors can not live in peace, if
a bad neighbor does not want it." And that was what happened in Israel. A Palestine
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Liberation Organization, the PLO, arose and in their constitution they swore, to drive the
Israelis into the sea and to take over all of Israel. They never recognized Israel as a
state and they wanted it all. There was a war going on, right at the beginning in 1948.
Then there was another war in 1957, another in 1967, and in 1973. In between there
was always fighting, but I am getting ahead of myself. Israel needed people and more
people. Betty, Fanny’s daughter, also went to “Hachsharah” and stayed there for many
months. She came back ready to go to Israel, but first she got married to a very nice
young man by name, Gerschon Salomon. He too was on the “Hachsharah,” but he and
his parents lived in Montevideo, Uruguay.
Fanny and Mendel prepared a beautiful wedding for them, I remember it as if it had
been yesterday. I actually don't remember the whole thing, but I do remember, that
everyone was very well dressed and we had marked seating and the food, was
outstanding. Next to Hans sat a lady with a hat and on her head, on it there was a large
feather and when she moved her head to the right, this feather tickled Hans on his
nose. It was very annoying to Hans, but the rest of us on that table, observing them,
had a big laugh, it was a lot of fun. I was surprised, that Hans did not say anything to
her. I had expected of him to be nasty about it. But he did not say a word and finally
laughed with us. A few days after the wedding Betty and Gershon left for Israel. Fanny
was heartbroken. Her Betty was her all. And she suffered a lot, as she missed her very
much. She had only one comfort, and that was that she was married to a wonderful
man. He was nice, good natured, and we all loved him.
My sister Betty was not in a hurry to get married. She always said that she would wait
until she was 25 and then she would get married. You know what? On February 14th on
her 25th Birthday she got married. But again, I am getting ahead of myself.
Every day we heard mostly bad news from Israel. On one hand, they tried to build up a
modern civilized country and on the other hand, they had to deal with the Palestinians,
the “fedayim” and their militant neighbors. Syria, Egypt, Jordan, Lebanon and all the
other Arab states were against this little country Israel. Israel was constantly forced to
defend itself against their attackers, there was not a day, that Israelis were not killed
and maimed by their enemies. With all this fighting going on and the “tzores” (trouble) of
loosing innocent people, Israel grew and flourished and built a beautiful country. It
makes one wonder, what Israel could have done, if it would not have to spend so much
effort, energy, and money, on their defense. From cousin Betty we heard regularly
through Fanny. Betty was going to have her first baby, in Israel. Fanny tried her utmost
to get Betty and Gershon to come back. They were working somewhere in Israel
clearing a swamp, to make it fertile and that involved the risk of getting Malaria and
other diseases. There also were snakes and scorpions. When Fanny heard of it, she
got scared to death, and who could blame her? But, they made the land fertile, out of
swamps, sandy deserts and “wadies,” in the summer heat and through “chamsins”
(desert storms) lots of times without water. They build modern cities and factories, for
more Jews to come. Now it is a land that is flourishing, it is blossoming like a flower in
the desert. And this shows you about the mentality of the anti-Semites in this world, for
years and years they claimed, that the Jews are nothing but traders and dealers and
that they never could be laborers, farmers nor builders. Israel proved them a 100%
wrong and not only in that case. They too said, that Jews were not fighters, wrong
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again. Israel fought all those wars against their enemies, and won them, it is only too
bad that so much young blood is shed during those wars. And finally, Israel has the
best and finest air force in the world and this is a fact.
We had a Bar-Mitzwah (confirmation). My little Mike had grown up to become a man.
He studied very hard to be a good Torah reader, he had a very nice voice, it was a
delight to listen to him. His "Torah Parsha" (Torah portion) was "Chajey Sarah" and he
made us very proud of him. We had a big shindig in our store in the afternoon. Tables
were set up and benches, food and more food. The whole week we were preparing for
this big event. Rosa, Betty, Mutti and I worked under the direction of Sascha Kahn.
Sascha was a friend of Rosa and myself. She was an excellent cook and baker, she
went to a finishing school in Germany, before they had to run away and she made our
son's Bar-Mitzvah a real accomplishment. We had a fantastic time and we all got lots of
compliments.
About Sascha and Leo Kahn. Life has very strange ways. It actually was of my doing,
that Rosa and Max became friends with the Kahns. When they ran away from Germany
to go to Argentina, they traveled through Marseilles and they stayed for a few days in
the same Hotel "Paradise" we lived in, right next to us, where my parents had stayed
before they had left for Argentina. As I did with all the people passing through to
Argentina, I gave them my sister Rosa's address and, sometimes, letters to take to
them. I had given Sascha one or the other and she remembered me very well. I was in
my seventh month of pregnancy and she felt so sorry for me. She could see that I was
only a child. They had, at the time, one boy Pedro. When we arrived in Argentina, they
had two more children, Anita and "la Nena". (Nena meaning girl, don’t remember her
real name.) They had delivered my greetings to Rosa in Buenos Aires and became
friends. I of course, did not remember knowing them in Marseilles, as there were so
many people that passed through Marseilles, in transit, but we too became very good
friends. It was too bad, that they did not have much luck with anything they did and they
were some of the poorest and proudest people I knew. I remember one year, before
Pessach, Rosa told me that she knew that they did not have any money to prepare for it
and they were very orthodox. Max had asked them, if he could help them in some way,
but they refused help and said, that they would be able to manage. I had an idea. I went
to visit them one evening, I think it was two or three days before Pessach, I could feel
the scarcity in their apartment. I must say here, that they were the most generous
friends one could have. They were embarrassed, for not being able to offer me anything
but tea. I went to their bathroom after a while and left a roll of paper money, I had
prepared in advance, on the floor in the bathroom. The next morning, Sascha came
running over to me, if I had lost some money in her house. I said no and that was the
truth, I had not lost it. Then she told me, that their dog had come in this morning with
the bundle of money between his teeth and dropped it before her. I told her: "It's yours,
You don't know were it came from." I have never told anybody about it and Hans did not
know about it either. They invited us to come for coffee on Pessach and I was so happy
to see that she had baked and prepared for Pessach as she used too. I had the feeling
that she knew about the money, at least she suspected, but we never talked about it.
Then in our Synagogue on Calle Arcos, they opened a family room, where the
members went for a cup of coffee and a snack and played cards and other games. We
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all insisted that Sascha and Leo make an application to get the concession from the
Temple to take care of the cafeteria. They got it and their luck started changing from
then on. For a while Sascha was baking cakes and served them with coffee, People
were coming there, just to eat her marvelous cakes. I don't remember how long they
worked in Calle Arcos at the cafeteria; but after that, they applied and received the
concession from the Bnei-Brith. The Bnei-Brith, had a large building in downtown, with
facilities for them to live in, much nicer then they had before. They were hired to make
the parties and all the dinners and goings on, at the facility. They really started living.
Nobody could prepare a party or dinner like Sascha and Leo. Leo was a big help, he
made all the arrangements and buying for her and things started looking better and
better. We all were very, very happy, to see them getting ahead. It was a real pleasure
to see them progress, they were a lovely family.
It was about in the year 1952, when Hans was approached by a man we knew, he and
his family also were members of the Nueva Comunidad Israelita, his name was
Nussbaum, I don't remember his first name, but we all called him Puffy. He was a good
salesman, but he had a dream to become a manufacturer. He wanted to manufacture
ladies leather belts. He had some good ideas and we had the store and he thought that
it would be a nice place to convert it to a factory. The back room where we were living,
was getting to small for us anyway and we had to move into a larger apartment. Hans
was all for it and Puffy did not want the women involved in the business, he said that
when women are involved, it complicates things. I was also for it, I thought that it was
about time, that Hans should be the sole provider and that I would have the time to go
after my own interests and work. Sorry, it did not turn out that way.
We sold out the stores stock, by having a big sale and we moved one block away to
Nazca 2735, where we rented a very nice apartment – by Argentinean standards. Puffy
and his wife had two boys, one was Leon’s age, Manny, the other one was younger, I
forgot his name. They lived only 4 short blocks away from the business.
They started the partnership and gave the firm the name, "Casa Nuro" which are the
first two letters of Nussbaum and of Rogozinski. The phone number of the firm was
Nussbaum's home number, as we still did not have a phone. Puffy really knew what to
get and how to start the business and Hans was not bad either. They bought two
sewing machines. Those were power machines and they started cutting samples. Who
do you think had to sew up the samples? I, of course. But I said why should I, not being
a partner sewing the samples? So Puffy said, that his wife would come to help too. But
she could not do anything and did not help in any way. I sewed the samples and I
worked out the way they were supposed to be prepared, so that the machines would
not brake too many needles and that the belts would not be too bulky on parts where
the leather was doubled. Girls were hired to work for them, but the girls had to be
trained on what to do and how to do it. To make a long story short, after protesting, that
I would not just work, without benefit at all, I was hired and paid for my services.
Now Puffy was in charge of selling, bookkeeping, delivering and collecting. Hans was in
charge of cutting, cementing, folding, buying materials and other little things. I was in
charge to making samples, teaching and supervising the girls, and also designed some
nice new belts. We had a very fashionable belt factory on our hands. The business was
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flourishing, Puffy sold a lot, orders came in, merchandise was distributed and money
came in. We lived like that for about two years, but there was never any money to save.
All the money we had saved from our shoe store, we had put into the factory. We had a
lot of work, but we did not save anything.
Puffy always said, when asked about it, that the customers did not pay on time, that
they owed us money. He always found an excuse, for not bringing in enough money to
be saving. Then we found out, that he went to the horse races, that he was a gambler.
Now we had to get a bookkeeper to check the accounts. He did not want to bring the
accounts to the business. We had a bad time with him. For me to go to the customers,
Hans had to give me a power of attorney to act on his behalf and then we found out,
that he had embezzled over 25,000 Pesos – and that was a lot of money in the year of
1954.
We got legal help and Puffy was locked out of the business. For the money he gambled
away, he lost every thing he owned in the business. We did not want to send him to
prison, so we settled with him out of court. Had he not been a gambler, we all could
have made a very good living. This way we were back on square one. We continued in
the business, we hired a salesman, but he was not good. I tried myself in selling, but I
am not a seller, I could not do it. Besides I had to work in the store. Puffy also tried to
do business from his home, but could not make it either. It was too bad, we struggled
along as well as we could, but we never got ahead. We were just making a living. We
could not save anything.
During all the time this was going on, Mike had finished the eight grade in school and
had decided to become an Aircraft Engineer. In order to familiarize himself with
airplanes, he enrolled in "La Escuela de Aprendices Operarios" located at the military
Air Base in “El Palomar,” not too far from Buenos Aires. He had to travel by train every
day. He worked there mostly on Vickers Viking airplanes and became in time an
airplane mechanic. In El Palomar, he made some very good friends and is till keeping
that friendship alive. The friends he made there are Jorge Vilela and Eduardo Will, they
too where in the same program as my Mike. In 1953 he also enrolled in a night school,
"Escuela National Aeronautica" in Buenos Aires, where he made other very good
friends, Jack Krystal and Osvaldo Gandarillas, this friendship is also lasting and going
on. In 1956 Mike stopped going to Palomar and came to help us in our broken up
business while going to the night school. Mike also got disgusted in El Palomar,
because of anti-Semitism and also he could see, that he would never make it there to
become an engineer, he was looking toward the U.S. to further his education. I
remember also when he came home late at night and finding me still working in the
store, he would come in and work with me in the store. Leon too was a big help in the
business. He learned to use the sewing machines and other machines too and worked
very hard in his spare time after school in the years 1955 to 1957. I have to say here,
my two sons are the best and I wish for all my good friends, that they should have as
good children as I have. Believe me, this is the best wish I could wish on anybody.
Also during that time, my sister Betty became engaged to a very nice man, Teodoro
Senselsky. Teodoro was born and raised in Argentina. His parents had come from
Poland or from Russia and they where a family of settlers at a colony created by the
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late Baron Rothschild, I think it was in Entre Rios. had at the times when the Russian
pogroms where going on and on against the Jews, Baron Rothschild started these
colonies to save Jewish lives. Betty and Teodoro got married on Betty’s 25th birthday,
February 14, 1953. They had a big wedding. It was a beautiful affair. It was the last time
that I used a hat on my head. When we got the pictures and I saw how I looked, I
decided no more hats for me! Betty got married downtown Buenos Aires, in the big
temple – I think it was in the Temple named Libertad. They moved to Teodoro’s house
San Fernando, a suburb of Buenos Aires – that was a stone’s throw away from where
Eichman was captured! I don't remember what Teodoro was doing at the time, I think
he was in some sort of business with his uncle. I know, that he was not doing badly.
Life went on and it was a struggle, but pretty normal for new immigrants, there were
good times and there were bad times. I remember one incident in Leon's school, I think
he was in seventh grade and at the time, I did not think that it was funny at all. One day,
Leon came early home from school and he told me that he was suspended for three
days. At my insistence, he told me the reason for his suspension. He explained to me,
that the class had a math test and it was given to them by the director of the school, as
their teacher was out ill. The class was set up in a way, so that the students could not
copy from each other. There were six rows of single desks lined up going from the front
of where the teachers desk was, to the far end of the classroom. The teacher gave to
the class two different tests, rows one, three and five got one test and the other rows
got a different one. The separate rows also served for another purpose. After the time
limit given to the students to finish the test, the students had to exchange their papers
from one line of desks to the other, then the teacher would write on the blackboard the
result of the two tests and the students had to correct each others papers. My Leon had
to correct his friend's paper and he could not believe that his friend had made a
mistake, as he was very good in math, but it did not match up with the result the director
had put on the blackboard. Leon who was very good in math, checked his friend's test
over and over and found out that his friend's test result was right. After he was real sure
about it, he raised his hand to be recognized and then he told the director, that the
result of the test on the blackboard was wrong. Can you imagine what happened then?
My Leon was sent out of the classroom and later sent home with a note to us stating
that he was suspended for three days. The following day I went with him to school to
talk to the director. The one thing I asked him was: "was my Leon right with what he
said?" To tell you the truth he said, "Yes, but you don't tell the director in front of the
whole class that he had made a mistake." My response was. "So my son is not a
diplomat. On the other hand, you don't suspend a child three days, for telling the truth."
We both laughed about the whole thing, after all, most of the children like to dish
something out to their teachers, especially, when they know that they are right. Leon
went back to school without being suspended.
Fanny's daughter Betty and her family, by now they had a little boy, Hillel, born on the
kibbutz where they lived. They decided to come back from Israel. Fanny was partly to
blame for it, the other reason was, that they, Betty and Gershon, did not like it to have
their baby with them for only a few hours a day, which was at that time the custom in all
of the kibbutzim. They went to live in Montevideo for some reason or other, but they
brought their lovely little boy over to Buenos Aires, for all of us to see and admire. He
really was a darling. It was not easy for them to start anew in Montevideo and they were
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waiting to emigrate to the U.S. Fanny was working on her sister Lotte, in California, to
send them an affidavit of support. They received the affidavit and I think that they went
to the states in the end of 1955. Since then they are living in Sacramento, California.
Now we had our Leon's Bar-Mitzvah and that was beautiful. This time the Bar-mitzvah
was at the Temple Nueva Comunidad Israelita on la Calle Arcos. It was only too bad,
that Leon could not sing his Haftorah, nor anything, because he could not hold a tune.
He sings much better now, thirty-six years later, than he ever did before, but he did very
well and we were and are very proud of him. After the Temple we had a big party in our
apartment, again with Sasha Kahn’s help. At that time they were doing very well in
Buenos Aires, but she still came to help us on our “Simcha.” It was too bad that Fanny
and Mendel were not in Argentina any more, we truly missed them very much. I have a
whole album of pictures from that occasion. These are some of the things that make life
worthwhile.
In the meantime business did not pickup at all, we were living from hand to mouth, not a
possibility to save something. Mike was pushing to go to study in the United States,
because he thought that he could not achieve anything in Argentina. I knew that Mike
would go one way or the other to the States, and, once he got there, Leon would also
want to go and would get there. What would happen to me? I would have to stay with
Hans and that was not what I wanted for myself. I would not be happy there without my
children either. I wanted to get the divorce, which I could not get in Argentina (I had
never given up to divorce Hans, it always remained hidden in a corner of my brain).
America started to look better and better to me too. Hans encouraged Mike even more,
telling him of the beauty and the different standard of life in the states. To tell the truth I
was not too anxious to start all anew, we wandered so many times from place to place,
and, I was afraid to tell my parents what was going through my mind. I really did not
what to leave them again. So I started to talk to Fanny and Mendel while they were still
in town, about Mike and about everything that was troubling me. They were really the
only friends I could ask for advice with the knowledge that the advice given was in our
interest only. They were all for our going to the States. Fanny had been several times
over there, was full of praise and she told me, that there is no other country that can get
even come close to the States and that nowhere in the world could my children get a
better education than there. Fanny even suggested, that if I wanted to, she would talk to
my aunt Dora in Los Angeles, my dad's sister, also Fanny's first cousin. It seems that
the cousins in the States were in social contact with each other. So Fanny asked her to
send us an affidavit of support. To me it looked very far-fetched since we had no
contact with each other. It took a long time before I told my parents and sisters about
our resolution. My parents, as I thought they would, tried to talk us out of it, and I told
them that it was still very questionable, because we needed an affidavit to get there
first.
I went to the American Consulate to find out, that if when we get an affidavit from the
States, would there be a waiting period for us? I knew that the quota for French and
German born was open and that Leon as a minor could go on my Quota, but I was not
sure, that Hans could go on my quota as well. Well, he could not and if we would want
to wait for his quota, we would have to wait for at least two more years. They told me,
that once I am there with the children that he could get into America in no time at all. As
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you can figure out, Hans was not thrilled by it, as a matter of fact he was very angry and
he wanted me to send Mike on his own to study there. Since I told him that under no
circumstances would I send Mike on his own, that I would go with Mike and Leon and
that I will send papers for him as soon as I could. He was very adamant and then he
told me that I could go with Mike, but he would not allow me to take Leon with me. He
insisted in keeping Leon with him, to make sure that I would bring him over too. That I
had brought him over from Shanghai, did not count, somehow he thought that by
keeping Leon with him, he had a better chance to join us in America.
I was full of uncertainty of what, or what not to do. To go with Mike alone and leave
Leon with his father? Decisions, decisions, nobody can know, what I went through in
order to make the right judgment. And then maybe I was not going to get an Affidavit? I
decided to cross the line when I got there. Whom could I ask for an affidavit? There
was of course Tante Toni in Pittsburg. Could I ask her again to send an affidavit, after
not using the first one she had sent to us to Shanghai? I did not think that it was
appropriate. Then there were other aunts and friends I had in the States, but first, I
wanted to make sure that we were really determined to go. Hans too was not eager to
go. He had thought that Mike would go by himself just to study there and then he would
probably come back to stay in Argentina. I knew better than that and I explained it
before. Again we got into a lot of arguments which reinforced my wanting to go away
and at the same time to be getting my freedom, divorce, but every thing was still very
much up in the air.
It was already 1956 and Mike kept pushing me to do something about going to the
States, as he was graduating by the end of the year as an Aircraft Technician. He
wanted to become an Aircraft Engineer and he wanted to study for it in California. I
think it was in April of 1956, when my dear Mother received an invitation from her three
sisters and uncle Max with airline tickets paid, to see all of them in the States. Imagine
my mother's happiness, after twenty-eight years, she was going to see all her siblings,
even Tante Henshe, her oldest sister, whom she had not seen for almost sixty years.
She was in New York and in Pittsburgh for a month and had herself a ball. We were all
so very happy for Mutti. Of course Mutti told them about our plans to emigrate to the
States and they convinced Mutti that for my children's education, it would be only for the
best. Mutti tried very hard to convince me, to send Mike on his own to study and for us
to remain in Argentina.
Then I received a letter from Fanny in which she told me that she had gotten my aunt
Dora to almost agree to send us an affidavit. Fanny advised me to send Tante Dora a
nice letter and to reassure my aunt in it that we would not be a burden to them in any
way. So I did write them a very nice letter to that respect. I never received an
acknowledgement for my letter, although Fanny wrote again that they had promised to
send us one. Fanny and Mendel lived in Sacramento and my aunt Dora and uncle
Harry lived in Los Angeles. They did not get together very often. We had no other
choice then to wait.
And so the time passed waiting with uneasiness, I felt very guilty leaving my parents
again. Mutti was a diabetic, she was not doing all that well, I really did not want to hurt
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her. I was torn from all sides. I wanted to be with my children and I also wanted to be
with my parents, it was a very demanding determination to make.
In the mean time on May 29, 1956, my sister Betty had her first baby Lidia, the first girl
between us three sisters. We all went nuts about her, what a sweet and lovely child she
was and she still is a very sweet person. At that time we had one Simcha (party) after
another, because Joni, Rosa's first born, became engaged to be married. It was a
beautiful party. Frida, his bride to be, was a lovely girl and their wedding was one of the
most wonderful weddings I ever attended. Frida came from a wealthy family and their
two Simchas, the engagement and the wedding were done accordingly. We wined,
dined and danced the whole night through and had a lot of fun.
And after all that, I had to make my move. Since I had not heard from my aunt, I
decided to write a friend of mine from Shanghai, I wrote to Bill and Leane Wolf. We had
been in touch with each other, as I wanted to know of Lilian’s progress. I wrote to Leane
asking her, if there would be a possibility for them to send us, Mike, Leon and myself,
an affidavit of support. Within a few days after I had sent that letter, I received a
telegram from them asking me why I had not sent them all the data so that they could
start working on the papers. Now the situation became very serious, within a month we
had the papers. I had to go through arguments with my parents, sisters, and Hans. I
really can not explain how I survived it, I was a nervous wreck, but I had to go through
with it. I never regretted it.
Now we started all over again. I went with Mike, Leon and with the affidavit to the
American Consulate, only to learn that the affidavit they had sent us, was not sufficient.
We were shattered, what do we do now? I told the clerk who was taken care of us, that
my aunt from Los Angeles was supposed to have sent us an affidavit, but that we never
received it. He looked at our names again and told us to wait for a few minutes. Then
he came out with a bunch of papers in his hands and said: "We have the papers from
your aunt here, now that is a very good affidavit." Neither the consulate nor my aunt
had written to us about it. Who knows how long the papers had been laying there,
waiting for us. The subject of passports came up: we had none. I told him that we were
stateless and that we would try to get Non-Argentinean Passports. The official told me,
that these would be acceptable. Then he told me, that for Leon, since he is a minor, I
would have to have a notarized certificate made out by his father, letting him get out of
Argentina. Needless to say, I did not get it from Hans. All my begging and all my
promises did not work, Hans would not let Leon go with us. I think if he could, he would
not let Mike go either, but Mike was turning 18 before we would leave. Until the last
moment I was hoping that Hans would change his mind, I even got a passport for Leon,
but Hans would not budge.
Starting with our passports reminded me of Shanghai, but it was not all that bad. So we
went to the foreign police department to order our Non-Argentinean Passports. There I
was told that they could not give me one because I was born in Germany and,
according to law, was German. It did not help us one bit, telling them that we were
travelling from as far away as China on a stateless passport, because I am not a
German. The only way they said to me, that they would be giving me a NonArgentinean passport, if I bring them a letter from the German Consulate telling them
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that I am not a German citizen. I thought, that is easy enough and went to the German
Consulate. It was the first time in 23 years since I had left Germany that I stepped on
German ground.
I was at first very uneasy about it, when I entered this beautiful building and the large
office. There were a few people by the counter being attended by some
representatives. Everybody spoke German. One of the representatives came forward
and greeted me in German, I answered in Spanish. When I told him about my problem,
he asked me for my birth certificate and said right away: "But you are German and we
will give you a German Passport." I told him: " I am not German, in 1933 we had to run
away from Germany without a passport, later on all of us German Jews, were officially
declared as stateless." He said that that was during the Nazi epoch and that it was all in
the past. Well, it was pretty much in the present for me and I became more embittered
by the minute. "What do you think we are, little puppets? You think you can take away
one day our citizenship like a piece of candy, and then return it to us as if nothing has
happened?" I shouted at him. I don't know and don't remember all the things I told him.
I let out my bitter heart to him, all our suffering and pain I put into my words. I know that
I did not do the right thing, he was not guilty, I think? But he was old enough to have
been in the Hitler Jugend and, who knows, what kind of despicable things he had
performed against my people. But I told him in many words, that I did not want their
German passport nor nationality, all I wanted was a paper stating, that I am not
German. I was very excited and my voice was raised and I did not care one bit, but a
door on the side opened and the Consul came out asking what was going on. The
young man explained to the Consul my situation and the Consul invited me into his
office. He was overly friendly, very polite and tried to understand my feelings. He tried
to convince me to accept a German passport, but had no luck with me. I insisted and
was given a document stating that, at my own insistence, I was declared not to be a
German citizen. I was elated, the whole incident gave me a great satisfaction. I hope
that you will understand why I felt that way.
We had no problems getting the Non-Argentinean passports, since, when we got the
passports, Mike and Leon were still minors, I only had to sign for them, but then my
arguments with Hans, to take Leon with us, started all over again. I could not get Hans
to sign the paper to take Leon with us. I knew that Leon was suffering because of it and
so was I, but I had to go without him, but I knew that he would be with us in no time at
all.
Now things started going, one after another, we were ready to get going. The worst part
was to say my farewells to my parents, sisters, and their families. Until the last day my
parents tried to convince me not to go, just to send Mike to the States to study. I had a
hard time to explain to my mother how I felt about letting Mike go alone and Leon falling
in his footsteps. Just because I did not complain about my life with Hans any more, did
not mean, that I would stay with him all by myself in Argentina. My heart was very
heavy, I was pulled from all directions and I had to be very strong. I think, to separate
from my parents for the third time, was the worst.
The time flew and the date for our departure arrived. Since there were so many in the
family and friends coming to escort us to the airport, many of Mike's friends came with
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us. There was Yankale, Jorge, Gandarillas, and Mike's girlfriend Evi Wächter, and
others, and there were my friends, the Kahns, the “lecheros,” and the whole family. I
don’t remember all of the friends that came with us. We chartered a bus, and the bus
was full. Mike and I left Argentina on December Twenty Fifth, 1956. The departure was
in the morning and very emotional. My dear Mutti held me in her arms and told me with
tears running down her face, not to leave and she said to me and I quote: "Du warst
immer mein bestes Kind." I felt terrible and I asked her: "Why did you never tell me that
before?" Because I always thought that I was the least liked of all. I promised my
mother, that I would come to see them in five years, as soon as I became an American
citizen. Little did I know that my embrace with my mother, was the last one. I never saw
my dear mother alive again. She passed on four years later. May she rest in peace. My
Leon was very down hearted, after all, he was only thirteen and a half years old, and I
promised him that in no time at all, we will be united. It was very difficult to say good
bye. Finally we had to board the plane and we took off, leaving family and friends
behind, a new adventure had begun for us. Mike had just turned 18 years and I was 35
and ½ years old.
ON THE ROAD TO THE UNITED STATES
We were travelling with Aerolineas Argentinas, it was an four engine plane and filled to
the last seat. It took quite a while until Mike and I calmed down from all the excitement
of separation and feelings. I started thinking, what kind of disappointments are in store
for us? All the money we were carrying with us was $500.00 dollars. What will I do for
work, would I find work that I could do? All those questions I had in my mind and it was
wandering through my brains. In Buenos Aires, I had to worry about other things, but
now relaxing in the airplane, all those thoughts were attacking me with force and
scaring me. We were flying already for hours above the Matto Grosso jungle, as I was
sitting by the window thinking about all the problems we might be running into and
looking out at the same time, I suddenly could see that one of the engines was catching
fire. Most of the passengers were asleep I told Mike to look out and then I closed the
shade. I did not want to alarm anybody as I did not want to cause a panic. Mike told me
that there are fire extinguishers on each engine. I could see that after a few moments
the fire was out. Then the loudspeaker sounded and the captain told us that there is
something wrong with one engine and that we would have to land at the closest airport,
which was the City of Belem. This city is on the outskirts of the jungle on the Amazonas
river. We were flying for about two hours to get there on three engines.
We landed in a G"d forsaken, muggy and hot place, called an airport. The mosquitoes
were eating us for dinner. While the pilots and some of the airport crew mechanics
worked on the broken down engine, the passengers tried to find a place were we could
get something cold to drink and a place to cool off. There was a round hut, it had a roof
and mosquito nets for "walls." In the hut were some tables and benches and we could
get something to drink, but it was not cold. They also had some greasy food for sale,
but we really did not feel that hungry. It took them about 5 hours to take care of the
problem. We were all exhausted and happy to board the plane again. We made a
stopover in the British Guiana, then to Havana, Cuba and we finally arrived in New York
on the 27th almost at midnight.
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Acronyms
HICEEM
JOINT
SACRA
HIAS (Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society)+ ICA Jewish Colonization
Association + EMigDirekt (A French Society established in Paris ca
1927.
American Joint Distribution
Shanghai Ashkenazi Collaborating Relief Association
HIAS (Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society)+ ICA Jewish Colonization Association + EMigDirekt (A French
Society established in Paris ca 1927. (See acronym list at the end of the memoirs)
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