Germany, November 1938. The country is about to go to war. There is hate because of the "traitors" of the first world war. How is a father going to keep his son from the sickness?
by Jenna Hitch and shalimar
“Thank you Mr. Spielberg for coming here to listen to my story,” I said to the famous producer. “I know you want to record stories of the Shoah by those of us who witnessed and played a part in the Holocaust. As I was not born Jewish, I hope my story is not wasting your time. The incident of the returned box of cigars occurred on November 9, 1938. Yes, Krystal Nacht. I met Maure, my husband, on May 8, 1945, the day my country finally surrendered. Also, some of the story may seem like a fantasy to you.”
I’ve heard about the wizard and his funny little store, if that’s what you mean,” Steven said. “What I can’t figure out is how he was able to be in two places at the same time.”
“That makes it easier for me to tell you my story then.”
I walked into Blau’s Tobaccos and ordered a box of my father’s favorite cigars. They were expensive because they came from Cuba, but father always liked the flavor of Garcia y Vega. I grew up knowing and liking the Blaus, even though they were Jews. Father had been buying from them since before the war. In fact my father and Mr. Blau were part of a group of men that played Pinochle every Wednesday.
Also, Mr. Blau was in my father’s unit in the Great War. During that war Father had saved most of the remains of his unit after a failed charge against the enemy line. Father was rewarded the Iron Cross, First Class and promoted to sergeant for his action. That time he wasn’t shot up. A few weeks after he received his medal, an American shell hit about two meters away from my father. Father was dizzy and couldn’t hear. Mr. Blau protected him until the shelling ended. After the shelling stopped, Mr. Blau took father to the hospital. Mr. Blau stayed long enough to give the doctors information to the medical staff and say good-by to his friend. He then returned to his unit. By the time Mr. Blau got back it was 11:10 AM November 11, 1918. The war was over and later the Treaty of Versailles was signed. Our negotiators didn’t want to sign the document, but they were forced to. Along with the treaty came the Great Depression in Germany. I was born soon after. I was ten when der Furer became chancellor.
The depression slowly ended and more people were at work. The only things that didn’t make sense with Hitler’s policies, according to my father, were the anti-Jewish laws and the military buildup. Father had said he saw war close up and anyone who was in that situation would want to do everything to make sure that no one would ever go to war again. Father also said that the Blaus and other Jewish friends of his were good people.
“So what if Jesus didn’t save them?” father used to say about the Blaus. “They are good people and they do good. And they are true friends. What more can you ask?”
I answered Mrs. Blau’s equerries about what I was doing with what I was learning in school. I told her I when I will graduate I will go into the Army. I would want to graduate first before I went into basic training because I would not know if I could finish my education if I didn’t. I was hoping to be in a tank crew maybe even a Commander. I would be proud to serve the Fatherland regaining the lands lost because of the traitors during the last war. I knew my being in the army was different than what my father wanted. He was afraid of what would happen to his only son. I had told my father once I would not want to be in the SS. That placated him a little.
I thanked Mrs. Blau and paid her the money for the cigars and walked the two blocks back to my father’s bicycle and machine shop, which was on the ground floor of our home. My father was grateful for my errand, and lit up a cigar immediately.
I helped my father making a few bicycles that had been sold. This was the beginning of our busy season. Like in other countries, there were a few gifts being given during the holiday season, and now that the farmers had the money from the sale of their crops many of them would come in the settle their accounts.
School the next day, except for the history test, was uneventful. I did the best in my exam including writing an excellent essay about how the traitors lost the Great War.
That evening I was asked by my father to deliver some bicycles to some customers in the neighborhood. On the way back from one customer, I passed the Blau store and noticed the front glass was broken and the contents strewed all over the street. On further investigation I saw “Juden” written on one of the walls in the store and on the front door. On another wall was the swastika. I called for the Blaus, but heard nothing. Those who did the deed also had left. I noticed a box of Garcia y Vegas on the ground in front of the store. I picked it up and brought it to my father.
When he asked, I told my father how I got the box. He raised his hand and had a fist as if to strike me. He had NEVER struck me before. I had never seen or hear of him hitting my mother.
“TAKE IT BACK!” he yelled as he lowered his arm, realizing what he was doing.
I don’t remember my father ever being so angry.
“But, father, someone else will take it,” I replied.
“That might be true, Kurt, but we don’t steal, EVER,” he answered.
“Maybe we could pay the Blaus back?” I asked.
“No, take it back,” he replied after thinking. “I wouldn’t feel good about having these cigars until they got paid.”
So, reluctantly, I walked the two blocks back to the tobacco shop and placed the box down on the ground right where I found it.
While I was walking back to our home I noticed a store that I had not seen before. I though it was unusual that it was open that late at night. The sign over the door said, “Spells R Us.” Curious, I walked in.
“Hello, Kurt,” an elderly man in a bathrobe said to me.
“Hello,” I replied, more surprised at the junk in the store than the fact the man knew my name. “I’m just looking.”
“Go ahead,” he replied. “I’m waiting for your father, anyway.”
What he said surprised me. So I looked up just in time to see my father come from the direction of the tobacco store.
Just before my father entered this store, the old man said to me, “Yes, he did follow you. He is proud of what you did.”
My father entered the store and saw the old man and me.
“Hello, Frederick,” the old man said to my father.
“I’m sorry. You have me at a disadvantage. I don’t remember meeting you,” my father replied.
“I am a wizard,” the old man answered. “I sell these things, junk as your son thought of it, because they have magic.”
We both looked at him not knowing if we should believe him or call for someone to help this poor wretch.
“Kurt, you love your father and will do anything he says?” asked the wizard.
“Yes,” I replied, not knowing why I trusted the old man. “As long as it is legal and moral. In these times, especially, if it is moral.”
I saw my father smile at my revision of the wizard’s question.
“And, Frederick,” the wizard continued. “You love your son and would do anything to make sure he survives the war coming?”
“Yes,” my father answered. “Again, as long as it is legal and moral.”
“Take this,” the wizard told my father as he handed my father a very feminine necklace with a heart shaped pendant. “It will protect your son throughout the war.”
“I can’t wear that!” I exclaimed.
“Wear it tonight when you go to bed,” the wizard kindly spoke. “That is the last time you have to wear it. You will be protected during the war and live a normal healthy life.”
My father looked at me and shook his head, “yes.” I would obey him.
“The necklace will cost you five marks,” the wizard told my father.
My father went into his pocket and gave the old man the coins. The old man handed the necklace to me in a small bag. Together, my father and I walked the rest of the way home. His arm was on my shoulder most of the way.
When we got home, my father put on the to the BBC. He said that the British put on a more honest news broadcast. He told me once that all news is slanted, but if you try to be honest you’re more likely to be close to the truth. We listened to that daily broadcast and found out that hundreds of Jews had died that night and thousands were arrested. The British said that the only thing that almost all the Jews did that was wrong appeared to be that they were Jewish. Less than an hour later I got ready for bed.
“Put on that necklace!” my father shouted to me.
I had forgotten. I think that was partially on purpose. I didn’t want to wear something that feminine. Well, it is only for the night, and if it did work I could be a hero just like my father.
“Yes, father,” I replied as I closed the clasp to hold it around my neck.
I went out to the living room and said good night to my parents. My father saw the necklace and smiled. Going back to my bedroom I pulled the covers over me and quickly fell asleep.
The next thing I knew I was hearing my mother’s cheery voice saying, “Good morning, sleepyhead. It’s time to get up and get ready. It is already late.”
I turned around and sat up.
‘Wait a minute,’ I thought. ‘I don’t sleep on my front.’
I adjusted my nightgown that had been twisted in the night.
“Thanks, mama, “ I said to her. “I must have done a lot to tire me out yesterday.”
‘Why does my voice sound so high this morning?’ I asked myself.
I went to the bathroom and started my morning routine. I was glad that I put my hair in a ponytail last night.
‘Ponytail? I have short hair like the rest of the boys.’
It was as if my mind was in confusion. I remember everything about my life growing up as I am, Karen, mama’s and papa’s girl. I also remember growing up as mother’s and father’s boy, as Kurt.
‘Speaking of boys, that older boy, Helmut, is cute. He says he is going into the army as soon as he graduates in a few months. He’ll look so handsome in his uniform.’
I had my usual breakfast. It was then that my parents gave me the surprise.
“We know how important school is,” mama began. “But your father needs to try to get the Blaus out of prison. He has to go downtown to the SS office and talk to them.”
“Papa, is that why you are dressed in your old uniform including your Iron Cross?” I asked.
“Being dressed like this can’t hurt, and may help my cause,” he replied.
“Do what you can, papa,” I told him. “The Blaus are nice people. They are friends, true friends.”
“I need you to do what you can,” he said. “Instead of school today, we need you to help in the store.”
“Yes, father,” I replied and got up from the table. “Just bring them back.”
I kissed him on the forehead, then mama, and headed down to the store to open up for the day. I was crying.
I dried my eyes, and then opened up the store. Mama came down a few minutes later after she had cleaned up the house. We sold a few bicycles and I repaired a few. I am mechanically inclined, and actually had fun working on the bicycles. About noon I went upstairs and made lunch for us. Papa hadn’t come home yet. I was beginning to worry that the Gestapo might be holding him.
I could see those in the Gestapo thinking, ‘How dare this man try to get these Jews out? He’s a war hero, yet!’
When I went down the stairs with the lunch I noticed my mama was worried, also. I put down the lunch and gave mama a hug.
“Papa, will be alright,” I told my mother.
I was just as scared as her, but I was being brave then. I didn’t know how important being brave would be from then until after the war.
Finally, near the end of the day, papa came home dejected. Instead of coming into the store, he went upstairs to the house. We closed the store, hoping to reopen it later, and went upstairs.
My father was sitting in his lounge chair with his head in his hands, crying.
“They are not out,” he told us. “I don’t think they are EVER going to get out. They are in Buchenwald. The SS man listened to me, politely. He took out a file that said the Blaus were an enemy of the state. I told him that Jacob was in my unit during the war. I told him Jacob might have saved my life. They just listened politely. The bastard that talked to me asked me why I was interested in ‘just Jews.’ He couldn’t understand why I would want to help them. Finally, I tried a ploy. I told the Gestapo man that he was right, but I needed Jake to finish preparing for Karnival tomorrow. At least it was partially true. Jacob was on the Karnival committee. I finally asked if he could let the Blaus out until the end of the Karnival because they are that important to the opening ceremonies and activities. I figured we could hide them for a few days until arrangements could be made to get them across the border. Nothing worked.”
By that time both my mother and I were at his side and we were holding him. Growing up, it always seemed like my father moved mountains but this was one mountain he couldn’t budge.
I thought of Helmut again. This time because his father had been a party member since 1930 and knew many of the highly placed party members and they had gotten him a good job at the steel works. Also, Helmut was very high up in the Hitler Youth, so I knew there had to be something they could do. I would ask Helmut to talk to his father and the people they knew and maybe they could get the Blaus out. I just knew Helmut would help me out. He loved me and I loved him. He was always so good to me and always helped me before.
I looked in my closet and found the blue dress that Helmut said I looked pretty in. I put on a little makeup then made sure I looked my best. Then I left to go to see Helmut. He lived a few blocks away so I didn’t have to take my bike or the streetcar. When I got there Helmut was in the backyard digging up their garden getting it ready for the winter.
“Hello Helmut.”
I tried to sound as happy as I could but it was obvious to anyone that something was bothering me by the look in my eyes.
“Karen what’s wrong? Have you been crying?”
I shook my head “yes.”
He put down his shovel. Taking my hand he guided me over to the gazebo in the center of the garden.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked as he put his arm around me.
There was that note of concern in his voice that told me that because of his love he would help me.
“Please, you have to help,” I told him, crying in his arms.
He felt so comforting then. I felt like I needed him to take care of me as well as help my friends.
“Friends of my parents, nice people. I like them,” I blabbered incoherently. “They were arrested last night. It must be some horrible, horrible mistake. They are gentle people, kind people. They have done good for this community.”
“I’ll see what I or my father can do,” he said as he kissed me. “What are their names?”
“Jacob and Michelle Blau, and their son, Jeremy,” I said.
“That Jewish tobacconist?” he asked taking his arm off of me as he looked at me surprised.
He seemed to spit out the word, “Jewish.” He had a very cold look in his eyes.
“Yes,” I replied, appalled at his reaction. “Did you know Mr. Blau saved papa’s life in the war?”
“Why would I do anything to help the Blaus? All Jews are pigs, and they have been stealing from the workers long enough. It’s time we took back what they stole from us and if a few get hurt or worse in the process so much the better.”
I saw the hate and rage written all over Helmut’s face and for the first time I was afraid of him. Something had happened to the handsome boy I had known and loved, something awful.
“How can you say that when he saved my father’s life and helped feed my family after the war when there was no food?”
“How do you think he got that food? He stole it out of the mouths of the people, that’s how. They only look out for their and own those rich Jew bankers caused the whole depression in the first place. They have been spreading lies to fool the people but the new order with purge their lies with the truth.”
“He got the food from his brother’s farm and the Blaus aren’t rich. Your father makes more then Mr. Blau ever did, and your house is twice the size of theirs. Please,” I pleaded with Helmut.
The tears were starting to come back.
“Why are you such a Jew lover now? Have you met a little Jew boy and are in love with him? Or are you in love with their son? What’s his name? Jeremy?”
He stood and was looking at me with disgust.
“You know I love only you.” And then I thought. “I mean I loved you. I can’t go out with someone that is so full of hate as you, Helmut.”
“You know they take their schwanz and cut the tip off. You should find yourself a real man who’s all there.” He leered grabbing his crotch.
I was angry now. I stood up and looked him in the eye
“Maybe they do that because theirs are soooo large,” I said as I indicated more than a half a meter size. “Besides yours is so small if they did that to you you’d look like a girl.”
Angry, I left, slamming the gate behind me. It made a medal rattling noise.
When I got home my parents were worried since I hadn’t told them where I was going. Mama was furious at me for not saying anything to her and was scolding me.
“I had to do it, mama,” I explained. “I had to try.”
“You did the right thing, honey,” mama told me as she calmed down. “But, next time let us know first before you leave.”
“I wasn’t thinking about that, mama. I was thinking only of the Blaus. I’ll be more aware next time.”
“You are a brave girl,” mama said with a smile as she brushed her hand through my hair. “That’s why I have to worry about you.”
I smiled at her.
Papa was still sitting in his chair and only muttered, “What madness is it that is griping our country?”
Then I saw the tears start to run down his cheeks.
Over the next few days we learned the Mr. Blau’s brother and his family were taken as well. Even though my parents had only met them on a few occasions this blow was almost as devastating to my father. The food they had given us out of friendship came at a time when a chicken was worth its weight in gold. Each week, Mr. Blau gave us a chicken and some beef with enough vegetables to feed us for the week. The chicken was usually large, but sometimes Jacob said his brother had no choice. Even the small one helped us survive the week.
Now his farm was given to a loyal party member who’s mind was as full of those poisonous thoughts as Helmut’s. That farm had been in the Blau’s family for over a hundred years. How could this be happening? Papa started to weep again.
The next day was Karnival. As was the tradition the whole city, and in fact the whole Rhine area, was celebrating. It was a traditional annual event. Since papa was one of the main organizers in the town it was expected that we all be there. In the past I had always enjoyed all the costumes, the action, and the fun songs. This year I didn’t want to go, but because of papa’s position in the committee I had to. I do admit that most of the time I was at the festivities I was happy.
This year I was dressed like Judy of Punch and Judy. I picked out the costume months ago and I had known that Helmut would come as Punch before we broke up.
Just before dark I made my way to the children’s area were they had the puppet shows. There were about hundred children gathered around the puppet stage. I was in time they were just getting started. A smile came to my lips as they started the show and I was feeling like a little girl again. I watched the puppeteers do their version of Punch and Judy. I was laughing with the children and some of their parents who were with them. It was all very innocent.
‘Someday,’ I thought. “I’ll take children of my own to this.”
I though of Helmut, and how good a father he might have been.
“NO!” I shouted.
And then I thought, ‘He is too full of hate. I could only forgive him if he stops hating.’
I continued to watch the show for another five minutes when I felt an arm around my waist.
“Can you forgive me?” Helmut asked.
He tried to kiss me. I bent away from him.
“You will try to help the Blaus?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Do you love me?” I asked, not caring anymore what the answer would be.
I stood there facing him.
“Yes,”
“If you truly love me you would stop hating and begin to love EVERYBODY, including the Blaus.”
“Why can’t you drop it?”
“Because if you hate them you can’t really love me or my children.”
“Are you pregnant? Did I get you pregnant?”
“No, but unless you change you will never have that chance again. And I can’t go out with you unless you change.”
I started to walk away. I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. There was anger mixed in with the pain.
“Please, I love you,” he called out after me.
He started to follow me.
“Then prove it!” I shouted back. “Get the Blaus out!”
I ran. I ran until I reached home. I ran upstairs to my room. I jumped on my bed and cried. Exhausted, I fell asleep. My parents woke me when they finally got home.
A few weeks later one of my cousins had visited us. A few days later, papa and I walked him to the train station so he could go home to Dusseldorf. On our way back we saw a group of young boys about ten to fourteen years old throwing stones at a Jewish family as they walked together. The father was shielding his daughter, who was about my age, and his wife from the attack.
Papa had been an empty shell of himself for these last few weeks but when I looked up into his eyes I saw a fire there I thought was gone forever. He went over to a nearby fence and ripped a board lose and charged the mob of youths.
I had heard from his friends as they talked about the war that papa had seen some of the fiercest hand-to-hand fights and came through it all virtually unhurt. Now I saw it for myself. He was upon the half dozen or so youths like a warrior possessed. He was holding nothing back and some of the boys took off running rather then face him. There were three on the ground badly hurt as papa threw down the board and went up to the family to see if they were all right.
I looked down the street towards where the other boys ran. I noticed that one ran into a store I didn’t know was ever there. The sign on the outside said, “Spells R Us.”
“No it couldn’t be,” I said in a low whisper.
“Yes, it is.” I read on the sign.
I turned around and looked at the family. The man was shaking papa’s hand.
“Thank, you, mister,” the man said to papa.
“You are welcome, folks,” papa replied.
“This is the second time today we were in danger. We were visiting relatives in Bonn and came home. When we got near to our home we saw that it was ransacked. We also noticed that there was the Gestapo waiting outside our home. So, we came back here. We were thinking, maybe we should get away. But how? We don’t have much money. Then those boys attacked us. You may have saved our lives.”
“You are welcome. It looks like it will be dark soon,” papa said. “You and your family can stay with us for as long as you need.”
The anger was gone from his eyes now. All I could see was mercy.
“I cannot ask that of you or your family,” replied the man. “The risks are too great.”
I could see the hopelessness on their faces.
“Please, I have already lost a friend I owe my life to. Let me do for your family what I could not do for his.” The tears were coming back to papa’s eyes so I put my hand around his arm and gave the family a sad smile. “I’m afraid this could be the closest I will ever get to repaying him.”
When they saw papa’s sincerity they accepted papa’s offer. It appeared that a large weight had been lifted from both papa and the family.
Again, papa offered his hand to this stranger “I am glad to know you. My name is Frederick Hitch.”
Taking papa’s hand the other man said. “I am Otto Weissbloom, and this is my wife, Maria, and our daughter, Anna.”
As they shook hands I could see there was a bond already forming between these men.
By the time we got them to the house the men were talking like old friends. They had learned they had fought in several of the same battles in the war in one of the cases just outside the same village in France. Anna’s mother was holding both of our hands but she was very quiet. I was going on and on like we were on a holiday and the Weissblooms were our guests. Anna and I hit it off right away she was quite at first but I made up for it. By the time we reached my home we were talking like we had known each other all our lives.
Mama was happy with papa’s decision, and with Maria’s help, got right down to the business of making room for our guests. That started the bond between them. By the time they had dinner ready they were talking like old friends.
Mr. and Mrs. Weissbloom stayed in my grandmother’s old apartment and Anna would share my room. I liked the Weissblooms. Within a few weeks I started to call them Mama Maria and Papa Otto.
“Come on with me Anna I’ll show you around.” I said as I dragged her along behind me.
I showed her our home as I described some of the things we were proud of. Finally we ended at my room.
“I have no idea where you are going to put your clothes,” I said to Anna as we looked around the room.
“All I have is what I’m wearing,” she said to me. “And this small suitcase. We were only gone for a few days.”
“I think I can make room for that. You look like you are about my size. Looks like we’re sharing.”
“Like sisters,” she noted.
“I’d like to make sure of that,” I replied, opening my closet. “Come here and try something on that you like.”
After she opened her suitcase she came over and saw the blue dress that I wore to see Helmut.
“May I?” she asked as she held the dress in front of her and looked in the mirror. “It looks darling.”
“Go ahead,” I replied.
“How do I look?” she asked after putting it on.
I smiled and said, “Beautiful. Take a look in the mirror.”
I spied a maroon dress in her suitcase.
“Can I try this dress on?” I asked as I took it out.
“It’s not clean,” she explained to me. “But otherwise, yes.”
I smelled it. It didn’t have much of that used smell, so I tried it.
“Wow,” she said when I finally zipped it up. “You should have every boy after you with that dress.”
She pushed me in front of the mirror. I had to admit that she was right. We continued to try on each other’s clothes until dinner. Most worked. Some didn’t. We had fun that afternoon. It was the beginning of our close relationship that has lasted to this day.
Our old house had three floors and most of the first was papa’s “Bicycle and Machine Shop.” The second floor was ours. The third was Grandmother’s before she died and now was being used by Mama Maria and Papa Otto. With two of the rooms used for storage it was tight in our house. I believe that our home’s small size helped us all to get closer.
Not very many homes had a bomb shelter in their basement but papa had one built in 1937. It was very large and one large main room and one small back room for supplies. The men started to work the next day putting a room in the front of the shelter for supplies and a false wall in the main room. This gave us two small hidden rooms in our shelter that we could use to hide the Weissblooms if we had to.
Everything in our lives settled down and became routine until the war came. Soon all the boys began to appear in uniforms. Then a few days or weeks latter they were gone. Although I tried to avoid him, I still saw Helmut around our neighborhood, but he was now even less the boy I had known and had loved for years. Now he paraded around in his uniform and sounded like one of the propaganda broadcasts on the radio.
When Helmut left with some of the other boys to the army, part of me was happy he was gone because the old Helmut had left years before, but another part was hurting. I felt like I would never see that boy I cared for when we were children again and I was right. He came back from basic training worse then he was when he left.
He kept telling all the boys in the neighborhood whenever he saw me that they had missed a Jew when they were rounded up. Then he’d point to me. They all laughed at his joke because the whole block knew that papa had tried to help the Blaus and they all joked about how the shell that broke poppa’s eardrums had damaged his brain to.
In early August 1939, Helmut was on a two-week leave from the army. He tried to get together with me. I refused every attempt. Finally, one day about half way through his leave he called at my home. I told Anna to hide and don’t even peak a look at my handsome ex-boyfriend because it was too dangerous. I then went to the living room and put on a half smile. He was wearing his uniform.
“Hello, Helmut,” I said, as I stood on the other side of the room.
My parents were still sitting in the living room.
“Could we take a walk?” he asked.
“No,” I replied sadly as I looked down towards the floor. “I’m sorry, but you couldn’t do what I asked. Please, leave, now. I would prefer it if you don’t come again. It is better this way.”
“Is there any way I could change your mind?”
“Just get Jeremy, Mr. and Mrs. Blau out. That’s all.”
“I can’t,” he replied.
“Did you try?” I asked as I looked up.
He looked down.
“That’s what I thought,” I told him. “Please go.”
“I do love you,” he said as he turned around to leave.
“No, you don’t,” I replied, tenderly. “I hope some day you will understand.”
In September we conquered Poland. I was proud of my country’s victory. I was also relieved that we had few casualties. Then the French invaded near Strasbourg. We gave them little resistance. They, with the British, could have easily gone into Berlin. With 20/20 hindsight I am angry with those armies for not doing that. The next six years cost 9,000,000 German lives, and that was less than 20% of the total deaths because of that war. The disruption of our lives because of the war probably wouldn’t have happen. There wouldn’t have been an Auschwitz, the Battle of the Bulge, the fire bombing of Dresden, Normandy, nor a Shindler’s list if the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion had done what they were suppose to.
I had heard that Helmut came back home just before Karnival that year. Again, papa was an important part of the committee that ran the festivities. I decided to dress as Marie Antoinette. I thought it was appropriate, as the war put a damper on the festivities. I enjoyed myself there again. At one time during the Karnival I saw Helmut, dressed in his uniform. From the distance I saw a medal on his chest. I turned and walked away in the other direction, hoping that he didn’t see me. He didn’t as far as I knew. I had some tears, because I still loved him. A few days later he was back with his unit.
Christmas that year was not the happy time that had always been a tradition in our home. There were the gifts and all of the great foods but the mood was overshadowed by what was happening around us. There was one unspoken thought that was on all of our minds, and that was we would gladly trade all the good food and gifts the recent prosperity of the economy had given us just to be with our old friends again. It hurt me deeply to think of how the Blaus were “celebrating” this holiday season. From the look on mama’s and papa’s faces they were thinking the same thoughts.
In the spring we started to conquer France. It seemed like an easy victory with few casualties. Then I heard the news. Helmut was dead. My friends had told me that his tank was hit by a British bomb outside of Paris just before the French surrendered. His parents were stunned. His father had talked about sacrifice for the Fatherland but they were not prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice of their oldest son.
Mama and papa insisted that I go with them to the funeral. This was one action I was dreading. I wore a black dress, but didn’t wear a hat or veil. I put on some minimal makeup, as I got ready for the task I had to face. We entered the funeral home and I purposely sat in the back. There were some soldiers standing around the flag draped casket. They were standing behind torches. I noticed the mayor and members of the city council seated in the front pews next to the family. I felt sorry for Helmut’s mother, father, sister and two brothers. It was a typical Lutheran funeral, except for the Nazi additions. Those additions included a speech by the mayor that said Germany was the future and we should ALL fight for the Fatherland and Hitler.
They had to have a closed casket service because of how burned Helmut’s body was. I was thankful, as I was never fond of the viewing part of a funeral. I would always prefer to remember them as they were in life. My last memories of Helmut weren’t good, so I chose to remember the boy I loved.
At the end of the services I did what I was dreading by going to his family and giving my condolences.
“I’m sorry for your loss,“ I told them.
“Do you know that he still loved you?” Helmut’s mother asked.
“In a way I still love him,” I replied.
“He kept a picture of you in his tank,” his father said.
“Oh,” I said, feeling awkward.
“He said it was his good luck charm,” his father continued.
“I wish it had worked.”
“He was a good boy,” his mother told me.
I was silent. I didn’t want to speak ill of the dead, especially to those I thought had deaf ears.
“By the time he told me about the Blaus it was too late,” his father explained. “I couldn’t do anything about it. I’m sorry to tell you this, but they are also dead.”
I cried. Helmut finally did what I asked. Maybe there was love in him after all. I started again to feel the love I had for Helmut and through that love my loss.
“Would you come in our car?” his mother asked me.
I shook my head “yes.” It was all I could do at that moment, as the emotions overcame me.
The rest of the funeral and burial I was able to properly mourn for Helmut, whom I realized was my Helmut after all. After the short burial services I went with Helmut’s parents back to their home with the rest of his family. I hadn’t stopped crying since we left the church. Now I had one more reason to hate the Nazis. They had tried to take my love from me, and when that failed, their war for power and conquest had taken him from me forever.
Back at Helmut’s parents house I completely broke down and cried uncontrollably. His mother held me in her arms and tried to comfort me
I was trying to make some sense of it all. When I arrived home after the funeral, Anna was the rock I clung to in all of this. I had told her all about Helmut’s and my relationship before his death, so when I told her the news his parents gave me at the funeral she held me in her arms and let me cry.
“It sounds like the boy you knew and loved was trying to come back to you. Let that love you two once shared back into your heart, and no matter what else has happened they will never be able to take that from you.”
“What hurts the most is I’ll never get to tell him I still love him.” I said through the tears.
As Anna held me tightly she whispered in my ear, “He knows. Believe me, he knows.”
Slowly, I felt a peace come over me as I started to come to terms with my loss.
When I told mama and papa about the Blaus it hurt them deeply. That night as we sat together in our living room papa talked to all of us.
“By saving my life every one in this house owes Jacob a debt that can never be repaid. I ask that we all say a prayer for him and his family,” papa said when we ate dinner that night.
After the news of Helmut and the Blaus we all tried to put our lives back together, but none of us could ever forget the memory of their fate for long.
Due to the labor shortage father was ordered to work as a foreman at the slaughterhouse nearby and he also serviced the machines there. A few weeks later, mama was ordered to work in at the officer’s mess hall for the garrison in our town. Between both of them they were able to smuggle out some extra meat to help feed our family including the Weissblooms. I kept the bicycle shop going by doing more of the work there. I made bicycles, sold bicycles, and repaired bicycles. It was almost my shop at times. This work also gave me a local reputation as a “handyman.”
One day, when papa was working at the slaughterhouse and Mr. Weissbloom had been helping in the machine shop a garrison officer came in.
“Where are your papers?” the captain demanded.
Otto Weisbloom looked at the officer, frightened.
My mother waked out of the back, through the curtain as I listened in the back room with Anna. I put my finger to my lips to let her know to be quiet, just in case.
“Captain Hirshmann, what seems to be the trouble?”
“I want to see this man’s papers,” he demanded.
“He works for me,” mama replied. “He’s our slave. We got him a few months ago so we can do what we can for the war and still keep our family fed. Isn’t that right, Ottie?”
“Yes, madam,” Otto said, still frightened.
“Ottie is from Nancy in northern France. He’s a hard worker, for a Jew.” Mama spat out the word, “Jew” as if it was a curse. “Isn’t that right, Ottie?”
“Thank you, madam,” Otto replied sounding grateful as he bowed.
“You, see, Captain Hirshmann,” mama explained. “Ottie is even polite.
Hirshmann looked at Otto and said, “Well, keep your filth to yourself.”
“I wouldn’t dream of having him bother such a fine officer like you,” she said.
I wondered if the captain heard the sarcasm.
Since the officer knew mama had been cleared to work on the base, and papa was a foreman in the slaughterhouse he accepted her story without further questioning.
“Would you like to have your bicycle?” mama asked.
“Yes,” answered the officer. “I almost forgot why I came.”
Otto started to go to the back.
“Not you,” said the captain. “I want to be able to touch it.”
“I’ll get it ma!” I called from the back. Then in a very low whisper, I said to Anna, “Get that black bicycle and bring it to me. Then hide in the back room.”
“Also I need a chain and a head for the two motorcycles your husband sold us last year. Those English models.”
Anna brought me the bicycle I had worked on only minutes before Hirshmann came in, while making sure she would not be seen. I then spat on the seat and whipped it to a shine. At least the seat of his pants would feel what I wanted to do to his face.
“I will let my husband know,” mama replied. There was a pause. “That was a chain and a head. The English motorcycles.”
I knew she was writing down the information. That was partially so I would have a chance to get out before Hirshmann decided to come to the back.
“That is correct, Mrs. Hitch,” replied Hirshmann.
As he said that, I put on a cheery face and walked through the curtain with the bicycle for Captain Hirshmann. He saluted us and thanked us.
“The height is perfect for me,” noted the captain as he sat on the seat. “Thank you.”
Mama opened the door for him so he could leave easier. When he was out, she closed the door and watched him ride away. It was only then she sighed in relief.
“Slave?” asked Otto as he hugged mama.
“It was the best I could think of with such short notice,” she replied.
I joined them in the hug fest and felt Anna join also.
“Well, at least I’m free,” he said.
“I don’t know about that,” mama joked.
Later I told mama and papa Otto what I did. Mama smiled and wagged a finger at me.
Then in 1943 the bombing started. I thought I had some clue what hell was like but until then my life was like paradise. First came the British bombings at night. When the sun went down we all headed for the shelters either one of the cities shelters or our own. Later that year the Americans joined the bombings in daylight. By then it seemed like we lived in those shelters.
Our part of Germany was the industrial heart of the country so most of the Allied bombing campaign was centered on our area. I don’t think people can understand the terror of that situation unless they’ve been there. When the soldiers we knew came home from the front lines and saw what we faced every day they were appalled. They returned to their units with a greater resolve to fight for their families back home.
In late ‘43 a former classmate of mine came home from the Eastern front after being wounded for the fifth time. He always liked me, and one day I ran into his mother waiting in line for our bread rations.
“Karen Hitch is that you?” she asked.
“Mrs. Brown it’s good to see you. I heard Heinz is home recovering. Is he doing well?” I asked genuinely concerned.
Heinz was one of the few young men who had seen through all the lies of the “New Order” and didn’t hide his contempt for the lies they spread.
“His body is healing slowly, but what worries me is his spirit. He just lies in bed and doesn’t talk much. I can’t even get him to pick up his sketchpad.”
Heinz has an incredible talent for art. His sketches and paintings were wonderful to look at.
“I’m so sorry is there anything I can do?” I asked.
“Would you please come and visit him? It might cheer him up to see a beautiful face that reminds him of better times.”
I have dealt with mothers trying to set me up with their sons before, but this felt very different. Mrs. Brown seemed more concerned over her son’s state of mind then getting him a date.
“I promise I’ll stop by and see him in latter today or tomorrow.”
We talked about a few other things as the food line slowly moved and we parted ways after we received our rations.
When I arrived home with our bread for the week, I told Mama about my plans to see Heinz latter this after noon. She said it would be all right. She always liked Heinz and had tried several times when we were younger to fix us up.
I went up stairs to fix my hair, and asked Anna if I could borrow her maroon dress.
“As if you need to ask. You let me just wear what I want of your things.” Anna said as she sat on our bed. “So who’s the lucky guy?”
“A classmate of mine is back from the Eastern Front. He is wounded pretty badly, and his mother asked me to come by and see if that would cheer him up,” I said as I was brushing my hair.
“If all the cleavage your showing doesn’t cheer him up nothing will. You’ll have him eating out of you hand the second he lays eyes on you.”
“It’s not like that. We’re just good friends. He’s an artist and I used to model for him that’s all.”
Looking in the mirror I made sure my hair and makeup were perfect.
“An artist who’s only good friends with his sexy model? He’s not gay, is he?”
I gave her an exasperated look.
“No, he’s not gay. We were always best friends as kids. We might have been closer if our parents hadn’t been always throwing us at each other.”
“Looks like they’re still trying, if you ask me,” she said to me as I was leaving.
“Let them try. I could do worse,” I replied with a smile.
I got to the Brown’s home about three that afternoon, and Mrs. Brown let me in, and took my coat. She smiled when she saw me, and how that maroon dress showed off my curves.
“If the sight of you doesn’t bring him out of his shell he’s much worse off then I thought,” she said with a grin.
I smiled. Both Mrs. Brown and my mother would have loved to see Heinz and me together, but he and I were just good friends, and we both liked it that way.
His door was open, so I walked in. He was asleep so I sat down in the chair in his room. His chest was wrapped in bandages from his shoulders on down. The bright healthy young man I remembered looked broken and empty. He had lost the ring finger and his pinkie on his right hand and his left was bandaged. As I sat there looking at him I started to cry. The destruction of his body was too much.
I sat there for some time before I closed my eyes to rest. I didn’t really fall asleep, but I was brought back from my resting by Heinz’s voice.
“Karen it’s good to see you,” he said softly.
“It’s good to see you too. I saw your mom today in the bread line and I said I would come by to see you.” Now that he was awake I could see his face carried a weight that far surpassed his years. “I’m glad your back home even it’s only for a while.”
“I don’t have to go back. I’ve been discharged,” he barely said above a whisper.
I was shocked. They never discharged anyone I had heard of before.
“That’s great what happened?”
“I’m all used up.” Even in his soft tones you could hear the bitterness. He barely raised his left arm. “Half the muscles are gone in this arm and two fingers on the other. They took out one lung and who knows what else.” There were tears in his eyes. “The seventy year olds they’re now drafting have more left in them then I do at 21.”
I took his right hand in mine. “You’re an artist Heinz you can still use your right hand and you have your heart and mind. You may not be physically all you were, but you have all you need to make your dreams come true.” I saw a faint smile as I kissed his cheek.
We talked for about an hour about the fun times we had in school. Then I noticed that he was fighting to stay awake as we talked.
“You need to rest. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Thank you Karen. Would you do me a favor and wear that dress again? I would like to sketch you in it, if you don’t mind.”
“I would love to. I haven’t posed for you since we were in school.” I kissed him on the forehead and smiled. As I left the room I knew he would be all right.
The next day I did go back and pose for him, but we were cut short by the sound of an air raid siren. It took his mother, the elderly couple next door, and me to get him down into the neighbor’s shelter. Even in the shelter you could hear the bombs as they exploded miles away. I could never get used to the sounds of those bombs.
Heinz finished the sketch of me in that shelter, but he had me under a large tree smelling an edelweiss flower in my hand. I immediately thought of Anna. Her last name is Weissbloom, which means white flower.
Despite what the history accounts tell you those early raids were not successful at all, and the German people were not the miracle workers at fixing the damage everyone in England believed us to be. The truth is they rarely if ever hit the target they wanted.
One night, when the British were trying to hit the steel works near our home, the lead plane dropped its bombs too soon. When the rest followed his lead, over 5,000 people died and the last few bombs landed on the gatehouse of the steel works.
The BBC reported that the raid was a success and the steel works was flattened. They must have thought weeks later that the industrious Germans had rebuilt the plant because they tried again from a different route. Or else, because it was flattened, they thought the gatehouse was the factory.
A few weeks later the bombs came again, papa was at the slaughterhouse and mama was still at the garrison when the bombs fell. This time the first plane dropped it’s bombs six blocks from our house and their path took them right over our home.
I was in the shelter with the Weissblooms when several blockbuster bombs hit our home. Anna and I were in the back part of the shelter when our house came down upon us. We had been sitting beside each other when the beams of the shelter collapsed. The two main cross beams some how held up the weight of all the debris that until a few seconds ago had been our home. I felt confused.
“Karen, are you alright?” I heard Anna cry out. “Karen? KAREN!”
“I’m okay,” I replied. “Just a little surprised.”
I opened my purse that I always kept with me since all the bombing started. Inside were the three things I always had with me: a candle, a book of matches, and a small hammer. I lit the candle and Anna and I looked around. We were in a small pocket made by the two steel beams and the oak boards from the first floor. The area was no more then five feet across and four feet high but we were all right for now.
There was no way we could get to the front part of the shelter were Anna’s parents were. I prayed they were as lucky as we were. We waited a few hours before we started tapping on the beams with my hammer. To make the candle last we only had it lit part of the time.
Anna and I held each other close as the hours passed. We talked about all our hopes and dreams. That night we bared our souls to each other and not just the kind of man we hoped to marry or whether we wanted to have sons or daughters. We had already talked about all those things. No, we talked about life, death and what it all really means. At that moment I felt closer to Anna then I had ever felt to any person in my life.
Then in the darkness I felt a tingling around my neck and my hand went to the necklace my father had bought for me years before. It felt very warm to my touch and a feeling of peacefulness came over me. I knew the magic the old man sold me was at work. Then it was my turn with the hammer so I started tapping again. Then minutes latter I heard someone tap in answer to me.
It was hours before they got us out but it felt like weeks. I let Anna out first then reached up to take the hand that was offered to pull me out and was lifted in to my father’s arms for the best hug of my life.
“Please, Papa Otto and Mama Maria were in the next room,” I begged. “You have to keep digging.”
“We found them as we were clearing the debris away. I’m sorry, Karen, they didn’t make it.”
I screamed. Then he hugged me again as I cried. Over his shoulder I saw Anna was in my mother’s arms weeping. I looked at our ruined house and my first thought was we had lost everything. Then I looked at my father and then my mother with Anna in her arms and knew I still had everything important. It was Anna who had lost everything. .
“What are we going to do now?” I asked.
“You, your mother, your sister, and I will all go to live with Uncle Carl and Aunt Marta in Dusseldorf.” He said looking me in the eyes. “Your mother is telling Anna now. I think you should stay close to your sister she needs you now more then ever.”
Later I consoled her as best I could. I also let her talk. But I was also hurting. I had two sets of wonderful parents for six years. Anna’s parents were two more that I had to carry in my heart. That heart was getting crowded.
The first thing we had to do before arriving at my uncle’s home was to get papers. We had to go to the Dusseldorf City Hall and explain our situation.
“Name?” asked the clerk.
“Frederick Hitch,” papa said. “This is my wife, Mary, and my daughters, Karen and Anna.”
The clerk wrote down the information. “
That is Frederick Hitch?” the clerk asked
“Yes.”
“Age?” the clerk asked as he wrote.
“45.”
“Were are you from?”
“Cologne.”
“You are all from there?”
“We are a family. Our house was bombed.”
“Mary Hitch?”
“Yes?” mama answered.
“Age?”
“42”
“Karen Hitch?”
“Yes, sir?” I responded.
“Age?”
“21”
“Anna Hitch?”
“Yes, sir?” she replied without hesitation.
“Age?”
“21. We’re twins.”
The clerk looked up.
“You look Jewish,” he said to her.
“I know,” Anna replied. “I’ve been told that all my life.”
“I’m the pretty one,” I piped in.
Anna gave me a look that could kill.
“Is there any Jewish blood in this family?” the clerk asked.
“No,” replied papa. “My cousin, Willie Hitch, is a party member, and had the family records researched back over five hundred years. If my daughters were boys they could have been in the SS.”
That was one of the few times I had heard Willie’s name come from Papa’s lips. Papa couldn’t stand him, and never even used his full name, Wilhelm. It was always Willie. In the twenties and early thirties Willie had been a member of the Communist party, the blood enemies of the Nazi’s. Then in late ‘33 he switched parties and became a Nazi.
Every family has a black sheep. Ours was Willie. He was always in the wrong place at the wrong time. In his effort to prove himself to the higher ups in the local party he had our family tree traced back for centuries and now that might come in handy.
We waited about four hours. Some of the guards did look at us, but they moved on. Finally we received our new internal papers.
“We couldn’t verify your children’s birth records because the Cologne City Hall was destroyed in a prior bombing raid, but we did clear you thorough your cousin’s records in Bonn and your wife’s in East Prussia,” the clerk told papa.
As the clerk handed Papa our new papers he had the look of a man who didn’t like loose ends. Anna and I were those lose ends, but there was nothing he could do about it, especially because of Willie. This was one time I was glad I had a cousin like him.
When we walked out of the city hall, I gave Anna a hug and whispered in her ear, “Now you are officially my sister. Sorry for the joke in there. I was only trying to defuse the situation.”
“I love you too, sister dear,” she replied as she returned the hug.
Uncle Carl was a very big man and not just tall but in polite terms he was very “thick,” looking very much like the stereotypical German Brewmeister. He was about two meters tall, that’s over six and a half feet, and because of the food shortage he was thinner then I had ever seen him at about 150 kilos, which is about 325 lbs.
Aunt Marta was his total opposite. She was about five four and had always been very slim. She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman in our family. Her home may not have had the warmth my mother’s but her heart did. She took us all in, and never asked a question about Anna, and how she now was suddenly a full grown niece Marta had never seen or heard of before.
My uncle was at first concerned when my father told him why and how he now had two daughters instead of just one.
“I know you, Fred. You’re an idealist, but are you sure about this? We’ll stand behind you in your decision. I’m just worried about the rest of our family if someone should find out.”
“Thank you for your support on this, Carl. I knew we could count on you and Marta, but I would not have asked you do to this without getting us that extra insurance. I went to the City Hall first and got us all replacement papers.”
“You took a big chance there, baby brother. How did you get them to give your whole family new papers without verification?”
“I gave them Willie as a reference in Bonn, and Mary’s home town hasn’t even been bombed yet. That cleared us, so our children would also have to be cleared,” papa said with that big “cat who swallowed the canary smile” of his.
Before the destruction of our home, the six of us were so close that Anna referred to mama as Mama Mary and papa as Papa Frederic. Since the deaths of her parent she dropped their first names.
By the time Otto and Maria died my father had so completely taken Anna in, it was only at a rare time like this that he let on there was any deception about her being his daughter and that smile of his told me the deception itself was the real deception here. In his heart, Anna was now as much his daughter as I was, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Almost from the beginning mama’s relation to Anna was as close as mama’s and mine were.
We had lots of room at uncle Carl’s house. Mama and papa got the guest room and they had a sewing room that became Anna’s and my bedroom. A few days after arriving, the Red Cross gave Anna and me a new pair of panties and a new dress each. Since it was in late 1944 those were the only clothes we had other than what we had on our backs when we arrived in the city. My aunt had many friends and relatives who, like us, had lost everything and had given away much of her things to them already so there was nothing else we could get.
Here too, we had to volunteer our time. Mama again worked in the local garrison kitchen, and papa helped in the maintenance of the equipment as he had done back home. Anna and I decided that we should help out at the local army hospital. We did everything there from doing the laundry to helping out in surgery. We learned our nursing skills on the job. By the end of the summer no one at the hospital believed that we were never trained.
Late that fall, I was changing the dressings of a wounded SS officer. He was weak from the loss of blood that he had sustained. He looked at me and seemed to question something.
Finally he asked, “Are you Jewish? You look Jewish.”
The look on his face was a mixture of contempt and suspicion.
“No,” I replied as I poured hydrogen peroxide on the wound making him wince. “If I was a boy instead, I could have been in your unit.”
“But you look Jewish,” he continued, not completely satisfied by my answer.
“Even if I were a Jew,” I told him as I started to put the large pads on his wound. “I am still your angel of mercy right now. If it weren’t for me being here you would still have on the old bandages from a few days ago.
“Hey, sis,” Anna said from outside the room. “It is time for lunch.”
“I’ll be right there,” I said still working on the wound. “I still have to feed my patient.”
“I’ll help you with this fine officer,” she replied as she came in and took the tray to him.
We both noticed his member getting bigger.
With that, Anna told him, “We’re twins. “Maybe when you get better you can have us both in your bed. I hope that IS your fantasy.”
She put her hand on one thigh while I did the same on the other. We both gave him a sexy smile.
Anna fed him as I finished dressing his wounds and cleaned up.
After that we left his area and went to the kitchen where we ate. When we went around the corner we did silent laughs.
About two weeks later, Anna came down with dysentery. After my nursing work at the hospital I took care of my sister. Less than a week after she fell ill she insisted she should go back to work.
“Get back in bed,” I demanded. “You are still not well.”
“I’ve got to go to work in the hospital,” she replied as she got up.
“They will be alright with out you one more week.”
“They need my help.”
“But I don’t understand. They killed your people,” I said.
“What they do with their lives is their problem. What I do with mine is mine. I must go back.”
There was no arguing with this dynamo. At least she thought she was a dynamo. She was still too weak, and fell ill less than a weak later. This time I insisted she stay until she was well.
“You are going to stay in bed if I have to tie you down,” I said with a wicked smile.
“Oh, good. Bondage,” she replied.
In the end she obeyed me and did get better, sort of.
With Anna home sick it seemed like my workload had tripled. It wasn’t just from there being more patents then ever, as the sick and wounded kept pouring in but I noticed there were far fewer doctors and nurses the ever.
You normally wouldn’t think so, but our jobs became nearly impossible when we lost most of the maintenance staff. I always thought a hospital could run with only doctors and nurses. I found out from one of the nurses that most of the key people were being evacuated to get away from the Americans’ advance. Some idiot at a desk still thought the army could some how push the allies out of Germany, so they were gathering medical personnel for a fight that would never happen.
I was better at fixing some of the small things that had broken then the others, so I found myself fixing things like a broken light switch to a short in the power cord on the X ray machine.
Then one day I was tending to the wounded when on of the doctors ran up to me and said he needed my help come quickly. He explained as we ran to the basement that the generator was starting to go out. There were patents being operated on in surgery, and the lights were fading in and out. He had tried to look at it, but he wasn’t very mechanically inclined.
When we got there you could hear the motor was starting to bog down. Then it would surge back, and then it would bog down again. When it surged back you could hear it was barely coming back. Each time the engine slowed the lights dimmed as I thought of how hard this had to be on the surgeons because their eyes were always adjusting to the changing light.
It reminded me of a motorbike papa had been working on years ago before the war that had a carburetor problem. I grabbed a small hammer of the tool cart next to the generator and taped lightly on the body of the carburetor and the engine surged up to full rpm’s. Then a few moments later it started to slow again and I taped it once more and again it surged to full speed but I caught it before the lights had dimmed.
I looked at the doctor, and told him the float valve was sticking in the carburetor and I could fix it after the operations were finished. Until then I would be able to keep it going by tapping on the carburetor body. He hugged me like I had just saved a patent. I wondered if that was true.
“I’ll send someone down to tell you when we’re finished.”
“Do me a favor and delay any operation you can,” I requested.
“We’ll do the best we can.”
“Thanks,”
I was down there for about four hours tapping whenever the motor started to slow down. Then word finally came the operations were done and I shut the generator off. Flashlights with good batteries were very scarce but they found one for me. A carburetor is not something you want to work on by candlelight.
The needle valve had rubbed a pit in to the float and it was cutting the motor’s fuel supply off. It took me a few hours to file the pit out and put it all back together. When I started the generator up it was running fine.
After that I spent more time on maintenance duties then with the patents. Since I could do both, the doctors and nurses loved to have me around. But I was getting frustrated with the maintenance because I couldn’t get the spare parts for the equipment. Some of the parts I could make, and some papa made for or with me, but there was just so much we could do. I started cannibalizing one piece of equipment to keep another working. By the end of the war I couldn’t even do that.
There was very little food in the house, or for that matter anywhere in Germany at that time. There where a few things that Uncle Carl and Aunt Martha had grown in their garden, and some fruit on their trees, but that only helped stretch our meager rations out. We each got four ounces of meat a week and one egg per month IF the meat or eggs were available.
The butter and honey were made from coal. You could eat it but it didn’t look or taste anything like the real thing in fact you had no problem believing what it was made from. Since coal was the only resource available, they tried to make everything from it. Eventually, that ran out of that as well.
I learned for the first time in my life what it was like to be hungry. Not from just skipping a meal or two but not to eat anything for days on end and then when you did get something it was such a small morsel barely enough to keep you alive.
Anna was the hardest hit by the lack of food. She had been very thin after the dysentery. Her continued illnesses took their toll, and now she was almost skin and bones. Every time she got sick she never fully recovered and she was going downhill fast lately.
Just before the Americans came, the main hospital staff was evacuated, taking with them the more able bodied patients. They told me I was on the list to be evacuated since my nursing and mechanical skills were sorely needed. I told them I couldn’t go because Anna was so sick and I couldn’t leave her. The nurse who had told me said that she understood.
There was a young lieutenant who couldn’t have been older then sixteen who said, “You have no choice in this.”
“I can’t go,” I said to the toy soldier. “I have to take care of my sister. She’s sick again”
“You have no choice in this,” he replied.
“Why, Werner?” I asked. “I’m a civilian.”
“We ALL have to sacrifice for Hitler and the Fatherland,” he replied.
“I have already lost too much because of Hitler,” I replied.
“Sometimes we have to make the supreme sacrifice,” he told me.
“For what? We have already lost the war. We lost it last December when we couldn’t push the Allies back in Holland. We really lost the war in ’41 when we invaded Russia before getting Britain out of the war and later by declaring war against the Americans. Did you notice the planes in the sky? They may have the red star or the white star or a group of circles for markings, but they’re all American made. We can’t even touch the American industries, and the Russians moved all theirs across the Urals.”
“We have to keep on fighting,” Werner told me. “There will soon be that miracle weapon Berlin talks about.”
“And if we get it? What then? We have already been blown back to the Stone Age. If we get this miracle weapon we blow London and New York and Moscow back to the Stone Age it will take 10,000 years to get back to the Pyramids. It will take another 10,000 years to get us back to blowing ourselves up again. No, Werner.”
“We still have to protect the women and children,” he commented.
I gave him a quick humph laugh, then said, “I am a woman and you are a child. It doesn’t work with me.”
“You have to go,” the lieutenant replied. “You don’t know what you are talking about.”
“See this dress?” I asked showing him what I had on. “When I received it from the Red Cross last year it was slightly tight. Now it is two sizes too large. I can’t even get it clean anymore. This stain was from a soldier who was wounded at that great battle in Holland. They were able to evacuate him here where he died. He was only eighteen. My boyfriend was a year older when he died. I have lost friends, friends that I loved. I have friends that as so wounded they were never reactivated. I have friends and acquaintances from school that now have children and are widows. See this stain? It is from that generator that finds a way to break down every two days. I am tired. I am tired of eating coal. I am tired of running down to the fallout shelters. I am tired of going to funerals. I am tired of trying to care for the wounds of young men who instead should be courting me or some other lucky girl. I am tired of being hungry. I am tired of having to nurse Anna back to fairly good health only to find her sick again. No, Werner, this war has to stop. And for me it stops here and now.”
I felt my tears begin. This time they never came.
“I will tell them I couldn’t find you,” Werner told me. “But we have find a good place for you to hide.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “But where?”
“The morgue,” he told me. “Nobody wants to go down there.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“I have to go,” he replied. “If not, they will be looking for two people.”
“Just be careful,” I said. “Promise me you will be careful.”
“I will,” he said with a smile. “Now wait here a minute so I can check the hall.”
A few seconds later he said, just above a whisper, “It’s all clear. Get moving.”
I kissed Werner on the cheek and ran as fast as I could down to the morgue. Werner was right. This was the last place they would come to looking for me. I laid down on one of the tables and covered myself with a sheet. I stayed there for nearly half a day before I left to see if it was safe to go home. Other then a few of the staff, everyone was gone. I slipped out of the hospital and ran all the way home.
I immediately ran to Anna’s bedside and she weakly looked up at me surprised by the desperate look on my face.
“What’s wrong?”
I hugged her tightly and told her through tears, “They tried to take me away.”
When I told her about the evacuation and Werner I was still holding her tight. I was afraid to let her go.
Here I was the healthier one of the two of us needing her strength and support. As always she was there for me. We held each other for hours not saying a word until we fell asleep that way.
I was scared to go back to the hospital. Anna insisted that I go, but be careful. Two days later Anna was doing her rounds. Two days after the Americans came she was sick again.
Those of us that were left behind had to care for the remaining patients until the Americans came. We lost a few of those solders because we didn’t have the equipment, the medicine, the skill or the personal to take care of them. But the evacuation didn’t make sense. Anyone with a half a brain would have known that the war was over by then.
The Americans moved into our town in March 1945, and set up camp were the hospital used to be. Anna and I watched the solders march to the military hospital location where they set up camp. It was during one of her well periods. One of those solders offered me a chocolate bar. I bent my head down in refusal. He opened the wrapper and ate a small section, then handed it to me. I took it and split it down the middle. I gave one piece to Anna, then I greedily ate the other. The solder smiled, gave me another bar and walked on. I put it in my pocketbook.
We found out later that our soldiers that were still in the hospital were treated with the best care the Americans had at their disposal. The only change was the guards that watched our soldiers because they were prisoners of war. As soon as they were well enough they went to the POW camps.
I had heard the Americans were giving food out to anyone who came to their camp. There were many Germans who refused help. After all the Americans were the enemy and there were still others you said the food was poisoned. It was why I had refused that piece of chocolate. Most of those who said the food was poisonous were somehow connected to the party. But, Anna had the flu and was very sick again, so I decided to do anything to help her. I had to go to the American camp. I couldn’t risk her dying. Not after the war was over.
There was a short line where the Americans gave out food parcels. As we waited there an American officer came up and talked to each one of us for a few minutes. When he spoke to me I was amazed how good his German was. He had almost no accent, and even knew many of the words in our Rhine dialect. He told me that his parents came from Dusseldorf. I was very uncomfortable talking to him at first, but something made me feel like I could trust him.
The food parcels they gave me were small. I knew those small packets were going to keep us alive, so I went back the next day for more. The day before, I had split mine with Anna and the rest of my family. As I was waiting in line again the same officer came up to me.
“Hello good to see you again.”
He had a warm smile.
“Hello” I said and smiled back at him.
“I don’t mean to pry, but I noticed the condition of your dress. If you need clothes, we have a few items the Red Cross gave us to distribute. I hope to have more, soon.”
His voice was so kind a sweet, his eyes had a gentile look to them, and his words impressed me.
“I do need clothes, lieutenant. Right now, this is all I have but…” my voice trailed off.
“What is it? Please tell me. I want to help. By the way, my name is Maurice.”
If it would have been for myself I would have kept silent but this was for Anna.
“My sister is very sick,” I hesitated. “Maurice. I think she needs a doctor.”
“We don’t have a doctor in this unit anymore, but let me see if I can get our medic to go see your sister.”
He left me for a few minutes. When he came back he had a soldier with him in a red-cross helmet.
“We have so much to do here,” Maurice said as we climbed into the jeep to go to my uncle’s place. “But we don’t have enough. We don’t have enough food. We don’t have enough clothes. We don’t have enough medicine. We don’t have enough time. But why am I bothering you with my burden?”
I heard the concern in his voice. Here was someone who only weeks before considered us the enemy. Yet, he felt he wasn’t doing enough to help us.
I smiled. I liked this man. To me he represented everything that was good in this world.
An hour later we were back at my uncle’s home and the medic finished examining Anna. She was running a high fever again, so he gave us some pills to reduce her fever and said she would be fine.
“All she needs,” he said. “Is plenty of rest and some food. We’ll take care of the food.”
Maurice took a few chocolate bars from his coat and gave them to Anna. As he leaned over to give them to her she saw a small gold chain around his neck and from the chain hung a small Star of David.
When she saw it Anna gasped, and said something to Maurice I didn’t understand. He joined her with part of it.
I stood there looking at the two of them with the stupidest expression on my face. When they looked at me they both broke out laughing.
“I thought there was very little resemblance between the two of you to be sisters. Now I understand why,” Maurice said when he recovered from his laughing. “You had to be very brave to not only take one of us in to your house in these past dark times. Indeed, to proclaim her as part of your family is one of the noblest acts I have seen in this nightmare.”
When I looked into his eyes there was something I saw I thought was gone from this world, love.
“Her parents may not have been my parents, but I do mean it when I say we are sisters,” I told him as I took Anna’s hand. “And it will always be that way.”
“I believe you. One day I would like to hear the story of how you became sisters but my friend and I have to get back to the base soon or we could be in trouble.”
Maurice looked at the medic who came with him then cleared his throat.
“I’d like to stay a little longer with Anna,” his friend said with a smile. And then to Anna, “If that’s alright with you.”
“I may fall asleep on you,” she replied.
“Five minutes sergeant,” Maurice said.
“Thank you, sir.”
Maurice and I walked out of the room.
“Karen, I would like to come and visit you tomorrow if that would be alright with you?” he asked very softly.
As I looked in his eyes I felt like millions of butterflies were suddenly turned loose in my stomach and it seemed like hours before I whispered, “I would like that very much.”
He kissed me. I felt a hunger for this man as he held me tight. I felt I should stay in his arms. I was melting into his form. That kiss seemed to last forever.
“I’ll see you around six in the evening? Looks like I’ll bring the dinner,” then he lightly kissed me on the cheek.
“Yes, I said, breathlessly.
“Sergeant, we have to go,” Maurice called to his friend.
“Yes, sir,” the medic called back. “Be right there, sir.”
Once they were out of the house I went back to Anna’s room and sat on the edge of her bed and at that moment I was weaker then her.
“He’s gorgeous!” Anna squealed.
“Which one?”
“Both,” she replied. “Mine’s cute. He’s a little shy. Makes him cuter. I hope he comes back. And yours has a thing for you.”
I just sat there in a daze.
“Well I guess you do too,” she continued grinning at me. “What is yours name?”
“Maurice,” I told her. “And your boyfriend’s?”
“Daniel,” she replied. “And he’s not my boyfriend.”
“Uh huh,” I said knowing full well she was hoping he may soon be.
Then we gave each other a kiss. I left the room to let her get the sleep she needed.
We were right, of course, and we weren’t the only one who noticed. Before they left Maurice had spoken with my father and asked for his permission to come and see me and to allow Daniel to come back. I didn’t find out until later Maurice had also said that he admired my family for what we had done and if papa ever needed anything to please ask. With all considered, I was happy with everything that happened. I was happy for me, happy for Maurice, happy for Anna and happy for Daniel and happy for my family.
The next day Maurice and Daniel showed up right at six o’clock. They dressed in their best uniforms and had shaved. They had with them a big basket of goodies my family hadn’t seen since the beginning of the war. There were two large roast chickens, several loaves of fresh bread, real butter, strawberry jam and so many other things we looked on in awe. There were also two bottles of wine and a bottle of French brandy that they gave to my father and uncle.
We had the best meal of my life. There was once again happiness in my family. Still weak, Anna went back to bed after dinner. My mother asked me to help her and Aunt Marta clean up the dishes. My father and Uncle Carl went with Maurice and Daniel in to the living room for a glass of brandy.
“Do you smoke?” I heard Maurice ask in the living room as he offered my father and uncle each a cigar.
Father stood there unable to speak with tears in his eyes looking like he had seen a ghost.
“I’m sorry sir did I offend you?” Maurice said fearing he had some how insulted my father.
In a horse voice my father said, “No, I just realized how much you remind of an old and dear friend I lost.”
When I came in the room my father still had a few tears running down his cheeks. As I saw him with a cigar in his hand I realized that was the first time I had seen him smoke since the day after I found the cigars.
“I ask that we toast to my old friend, Jacob Blau,” papa said.
As all four men raised their glasses I could see papa’s lower lip was trembling so I put my arm around him and after they drank I gave him a hug.
“Why don’t you show Maurice your uncle’s garden? He has spent years telling everyone how nice it is in the spring.”
I looked longingly at Maurice and said, “It is pretty this time of the year.”
“I will look in on my patient,” Sergeant Mayerowitz said as he excused himself and went into Anna’s room.
It was as we walked through the garden that Maurice kissed me again. As he pulled me to him and our lips met and my necklace touched his and time seemed to stop. All memories of being Kurt came back to my mind in that instant as if a fog that had clouded my mind lifted. As Karen, I could see that Kurt would have been exposed to the same sickness that had poisoned Helmut’s mind. Even if I had survived that, I probably wouldn’t have survived the war.
The last seven and a half years have been very difficult, but as Maurice held me in his arms I knew I was not only in the right place I was were I wanted to be for the rest of my life. We walked a bit more.
“You brought a lot of memories back tonight,” I told him as I felt my eyes start to water.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to hurt you.
We sat down at the low brick wall that separated the garden from the small patio by the house. I looked at Maurice, and again put my hand in his.
“No. Please. Let me talk,” I continued. “This was the first time papa smoked in years. He hadn’t smoked since he tried to get the Blaus out of Buchenwald.”
I told him about papa almost hitting me, and papa’s failure to get the Blaus out. Then I spoke about me going to Helmut. I told Maurice about my humiliation from Helmut, and how I got him back. Maurice laughed when I told him about what I said.
I told Maurice about how we met Anna’s family, the bombings and us being trapped. I explained how I got closer to Anna before, during and after we were trapped. I told him about getting papers for her that made her part of the family. I told him about us living here in Dusseldorf and working in the hospital. Finally I told him that I almost couldn’t go to the American army camp.
“But I couldn’t let Anna die. Not now. We have been through so much to survive the war. She means so much to me I would do anything to save her. I have lost so much in the last few years but if I were to lose Anna…” I was unable to talk the tears choked them from my mouth.
He pulled me close and kissed me. I felt his strength, and tenderness as I instantly melted in his arms. Never in my life had I ever felt like this before. My whole body felt that kiss and I never wanted that feeling to end. If he hadn’t pulled away from me I would have held that kiss for days.
He looked at me, and whispered, “Now I know what it is like to kiss an angel.”
He held me tightly and I rested my head on his chest.
“An angel?” I asked.
“In a way you are a hero to me,” he replied.
“Don’t put me on a pedestal.”
“I love you more because of what you did. That’s all.”
I smile and enjoyed just being with him. After a while we talked some more about ourselves. As we talked I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Maurice. To this day that was the most wonderful day of my life. We spent the next two hours laughing and joking until his friend came to tell him that they had to leave. We shared one more kiss then he left.
Did he say he loves me?
I immediately went into Anna’s room to talk to her. I wanted to tell her everything, but she was already sleeping. I gave her a kiss and quietly walked out. In the morning we shared our experiences. Our talking about our men gradually gave her the extra strength that she needed to get well.
Maurice came over several more times, and with each visit I fell more and more in love with him. We spent hours talking and holding hands but it was through his kisses he expressed his love for me the most.
During this time Daniel officially came over to our home to check in on his patient. Eventually Anna was well enough that they took walks together. When Anna and I talked about things afterwards we both knew we each had found the man we would spend the rest of our lives with.
One evening after we ate we went for our normal walk in my uncle’s garden. Maurice then took me to the Jeep and told me he wanted to show me something. He pulled out something he had wrapped in a cloth from the back of that Jeep. As he pulled the cloth aside I could see his reverence as if he was holding the most precious thing in the entire world. He even treated it like he was handling a baby, his baby. That was the first time in my life I had ever seen a Torah. I found out later it was a very small Torah. It was only 60 or 70 centimeters long. That’s about two feet.
As he told me about how he found it in a synagogue in Remagen, just on the east side of the Rhine, and some of the history of the Jewish people I could see that there was a strong sense of justice and forgiveness in him. He bore no hatred for the German people for what had been done over the last twelve years.
He told me “There are good and bad people in every nation. It is not my place to stand in judgment of them.”
Here was a man who has love in his heart for everyone, even those who so greatly wronged him and his people. As I sat there and listened to him I remembered my words to Helmut from what seemed like a lifetime ago. That he had to be able to love everyone for me to believe he could love my children or me. That day I knew I had found the man I wanted to be the father of my children.
That evening when he left I went up to Anna’s room to tell her all about how I was sure I had met the man I wanted to marry.
“He’s religious, Anna,” I told her and smiled. “Very religious. Even what we did to you’re people hasn’t shaken his faith. In some ways it is refreshing.”
“I’m sorry, Karen,” Anna said as she held my hand and started to cry. “Break it off now while you still have a chance.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He can’t marry you. We’re not allowed. If he is that religious, he won’t. You see we’re supposed to be G_d’s priests. In order to stay that way, we are supposed to marry another Jew.”
“Oooo,” I sighed.
I thought for a while.
“But I can’t break it off. I love him too much. There’s has to be another way.”
Anna and I were quiet for a while.
I kept on thinking, ‘But he’s my love. I belong to him.’
“What are you willing to do to keep him?”
“Anything.” I said, without hesitation.
“I want you to think about this before you answer. Talk to mama and papa before you decide,” Anna told me. “Would you be Jewish?”
“What are you saying? How can I be Jewish?”
“It is not done often, but some do join the family.”
“Family?”
“You know what I said to Maurice when I saw his star? ‘Hello, cousin.’ In Yiddish, and then I said the shekeeyanu, the prayer of thanksgiving. I may not know how, but he’s my cousin, literally. So were the Blaus. So were the Russians who died in that place…Auschwitz, I think they said.”
“What would I have to do?”
“You’ll have to learn,” she explained to me. “You’ll have to know what we do and why. And then do it. After that you have to accept the responsibility of doing those laws. But you need to think about this long and hard. It is not something that could be done lightly. You wouldn’t be accepted unless you do. You must talk to mama and papa about this. Listen to them.”
I though about what she said for a few days. Then I had the hard part. How was I going to tell mama and papa? Then I realized that I said to myself, ‘tell,’ and not ‘discuss’ my change with them. That made it harder.
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” I said to my parents the next night. “Except to tell you this.”
I was a bundle of nerves. I was shaking. I was walking back and forth.
“I love Maurice,” I continued. “I love him so much that I would do anything to have him. Someday I will be his wife.”
I saw mama smile and start to throw her arms around me.
“Not so fast, mama,” I told her. “I’m going to have to become Jewish.”
Mama finished giving me that hug. Papa joined her.
“Maurice is a good young man,” she said. “If you love him that much, follow your heart. You will always be our daughter. That will never change.”
“I would like Maurice for a son-in-law,” papa said. “And I suspect Daniel will be one too.”
About a month after I met Maurice and a week after I decided to make the change, Heinz stopped by while I was in the garden with Maurice. Heinz had his sketchpad with him. I hadn’t seen Heinz since my home was bombed, but I had written to him several times and he had written back.
“You must be Heinz,” my boyfriend said. “I am Maurice. I’m glad to finally meet you. I saw the sketch you did of Karen. You are an excellent artist.”
“Yes,” Heinz replied. “I was told Karen met someone nice. I am finally able to travel and decided to visit. You are a lucky man.”
“Thank you.”
“If you don’t mind,” Heinz said. “I would like to sketch the two of you sitting here in the garden.”
“Please, do,” Maurie told Heinz. “We’d be honored. Some day you could do our wedding.”
I was stunned. I felt like I must have been catching flies for an hour.
That evening just before Maurie left I said to him, “Yes,”
“Yes, what?” my love asked.
“Yes,” I told him. “I will marry you.”
He picked me up and gave me the best hug and kiss I ever felt up to that time.
It was about a week later that Daniel came alone to our home.
“The lieutenant will be late,” he said as he handed me some food. “He had to talk to General Eisenhower.”
“Do you know why?” I asked.
“All I know is that he was ordered to.”
Disappointed, I started to set up dinner. After dinner, Daniel took Anna into the garden as I cleaned up. I felt the hole in my heart that is usually filled with Maurice’s presence. I then heard a car stop in front of our house. Automobiles just after the war were still unusual, so our entire family, except Anna and Daniel, went out our front door. Out stepped my love and I ran to him and gave him a hug. From the other side of the car came General Eisenhower. Maurice looked at the general who nodded. Maurice then gave me a passionate kiss.
“The lieutenant, here, sent me a request asking me not to send your family to visit the concentration camps. Along with that request I read an incredible story that I needed to check out myself,” the future president said.
“I know our time to see the destruction we did to civilians is soon, general,” papa said. “I still wish to go. We had friends who died there. I would like to say good bye.”
“It is the least we can do,” mama said.
“I still morn them,” I told the general. “It will help me let go.”
“We knew about the camps,” Uncle Carl said. “I couldn’t do anything about it. That is my shame. We will go too.”
“Is there anyone else?” asked Eisenhower.
“Anna,” replied Maurice. “The one they rescued.”
“Where is she?” asked the general.
“In the garden,” I replied. “Shall I take you?”
“Lead the way,” he answered.
I took the general and Maurice back to the garden. Daniel was kissing Anna with his back to us. The general cleared his throat.
“Attention!” Maurice announced.
Daniel stopped kissing Anna and said, “Come off it, Maurice, don’t get on my case because you were late.”
“I suggest you turn around, sergeant, NOW!” my fiancée said.
Anna pointed towards us. Daniel turned around, and when he saw the general, immediately snapped to attention and saluted. It took all my will power not to giggle. I saw Anna do the same.
“Sergeant, do you always disobey an order like that?” asked Eisenhower.
“No sir,” replied Sergeant Mayerowitz.
“Are you the young Jewish girl Lieutenant Lewin mentioned?”
“I believe so, general,” Anna replied.
“How did your parents die?”
“I don’t understand. They’re in the house.”
“I mean your real parents,” Ike said. “Although you gave me a better explanation than I expected.”
“One of your bombings of our city,” she replied. “We were living with mama and papa at the time.”
“You don’t have to go to Buchenwald,” Ike told her.
“I have to be with my family. They need me there.”
“I seems to me, lieutenant,” Ike said. “That you have wasted my time. I don’t appreciate you wasting my time.”
“Sorry, sir,” Maurice replied.
“You two need to be punished,” Ike continued. “Lieutenant Lewin, as you have wasted my time, I will waste yours. You are to personally head a group of your men to escort this family to Buchenwald and show them around. You will arrive here at 0700 hours tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” Maurice said.
“And, Sergeant Mayerowitz,” the general said. “For disobeying a legitimate order, you are to be part of that detail.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Daniel.
“If I hear that anything went wrong with this detail, this will go on your records. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” the two solders said in unison, and then saluted. “Thank you, sir!”
“I see that two German girls have stolen your hearts,” Ike finally said. “Go take care of them. Dismissed.”
“Yes sir,”
With that the general left our home. We saw him four more times. He insisted on taking both Daniel and Maurice down the isle for our weddings here in Germany. He was an honored guest at the reenactment in Brooklyn while visiting Columbia University to discuss being its president, and he visited us during his presidential campaign in 1952.
We were a little late getting ready for our trip to the consecration camp. I delayed the party a little longer picking flowers from my uncle’s garden. During the tour, I left them in one barrack. I didn’t know if any of the Blaus were in that one, but it was the best I could do for them.
A few days later we were all having dinner when Anna asked, “Could I be adopted by you?”
“But you are our daughter,” mama replied. “The city hall records now show that.”
“I know,” Anna replied. “But that was a lie. We did that to save my life.”
“But it was not a lie. I meant it then when I said you were my daughter,” replied papa. “As far as I’m concerned you are and always will be.”
“And as far as I’m concerned I am also, but I need undisputable proof,” Anna continued. “Not from you, but from the authorities. Please. Now that it could be done legally and honestly I need this.”
“With your permission, I will check with our legal division and see if they can do anything or even if they have to,” Maurice suggested.
A few weeks later the whole family entered the military court with our petition. Mama, papa, Anna and I all testified under oath our relationship with my sister.
“My decision is simple,” the judge said. “I am only confirming what the city hall records state. Those records are valid. Anna from now on you are officially and legally a Hitch.
It was mid August, and by then I had made it a habit to accompany Anna to the American camp where we joined others at the normal Saturday Jewish Sabbath service. I listen to the torah reading as I read the German translation. Part of it said that a “war bride” would have to cut her hair and nails to look ugly to the man in order to marry him. I read this and was scared. Would I have to do that? Is it really necessary? So, after services, I went to the camp rabbi and asked about the reading.
“If you had to would you do it?” he asked
“Yes,” I replied. “I would do anything for Maurice.”
“Are you Jewish or are you Lutheran?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I do know that to truly understand Jesus and the New Testament you have to understand the Old.”
”I see,” he said. “No, you don’t have to do this anymore. The nations that this law is for no longer exist. Because they don’t exist, the law is no longer used. You may look pretty at your wedding if you wish. Also, your answer about what you are is different than before.”
“I know,” I told him. “When I first came to you I would have said, ‘Lutheran.’
I thanked the rabbi and went over to my fiancée.
In September 1945, Daniel was accepted to Albert Einstein School of Medicine in the Bronx for the next year. I think the letter of recommendation from General Eisenhower helped. He couldn’t bear to leave Anna behind, so they decided to marry. That celebration occurred in November. I was the maid of honor. That same camp rabbi did the ceremony.
During the celebration, Maurice and I set dates for my official conversion and our wedding. My conversion occurred in January. One week after my conversion we were married. Daniel was discharged in February, and Maurice was sent home in March. I was able to go on the ship with him back to New York. With the help of General Eisenhower, my parents emigrated in May. In June, we repeated the wedding ceremonies as a double wedding in Brooklyn, where both Maurice and Daniel came from so that their family and friends could share the celebration. Maurice and I were lucky to have two anniversaries. We always celebrated both.
“After we were married the second time, mama, papa, Maurice and I opened up a bicycle shop here in the suburbs on Long Island. We bought houses here in Levittown for my parents, his parents, Anna and Daniel, and his parents. We brought my parents and my sister here. Mama and papa retired in the early ‘70’s. It was then Maurie’s and my store. Of course, we had our children, Anna and her children working for papa.
Maurie took back that Torah and gave it to the synagogue we help start. Our two boys were bar mitzvahed in that synagogue and they and our daughter were married there. They have children and we even have two great grand children. I had a wonderful life with Maurie. You would have liked him. He died a little over a year ago.
“Anna lives nearby if you wish to speak to her. We helped them survive during his time as a medical student, especially after Anna became pregnant with their first child. Eventually they had three, a boy then two girls. In fact, one of my boys married one of her daughters. I love my sister very much.”
“You know, I still remember our weddings and those broken glasses at the end of the of the ceremonies. Especially the broken glasses. It reminded me of Krystal Nacht, and what my father made me do that night, and what my father did for me that night, and everything that happened after.”
“Thank you,” Mr. Spielberg said as he held my hands. “Cut.”
I could see tears in his eyes.
Notes:
Steven Spielberg is trying to record the memories of those who did live through the Holocaust. They are few, and because of their age, are dying. If you know anyone who experienced this horror please make sure that person knows about Mr. Spielberg’s project.
Some of this story is based on fact. For example, the Blau family had a different name. That Torah does exist although it was found by the first American Colonel that crossed the Rhine during the war. It is believe that it was the first Torah saved form Germany east of the Rhine during the war.
The Torah reading referred to is Deut. 21: 10-14
At the end of a Jewish wedding there is a glass broken to symbolize that the couple’s happiness could not be complete because the Temple is not there.
We wish to thank our editors, Jan Wytte, and Norman O. Johnson for their suggestions and assistance.
Comments
Tears and tissues
A truly wonderfully written story, thank your for posting.
Happy
An Extremely Moving Powerful Story
This story is one of the most moving depictions of what happened in Germany in WW II. I am full blooded German and even though I was born and raised in the US I am very sad that my ancestrial roots did such horable things. One can only pray that histroy does not repeat it self, but to varying degrees it already has in various places since WW II. Cosivo (Sp), Cambodia and African nations to mention a few. Will man kind ever learn to live with each other and except our differences.
I will get off my soap box. This was a powerfull tale everyone should read it.
Debra Sue
My German teacher in high school was Bolivian
...he and his mother moved to Bolivia when he was just a little boy in the mid-thirties. His entire extended family, along with his father, died in Buchenwald. He was a very vibrant, humorous man who went out of his way to encourage his students, but there was always a sad look in his eyes. This story, like his story, moves me to tears. Thank you for giving this precious gift to us.
She was born for all the wrong reasons but grew up for all the right ones.
Possa Dio riccamente vi benedica, tutto il mio amore, Andrea
Love, Andrea Lena
re: story
wonderful story. only half a box of tissues.
robert
A very well written and
A very well written and apparently well researched story plot.
I was stationed in Germany in the early 1960s and again in early 1970s. In the 60s, the area of Germany where my base was located still showed a lot of scars from the War. By the time I returned in the 70s, I would defy anyone to show me where the War occurred. It was as if it never happened; except for the Church in Berlin that was kept as a memorial, right next to the new church. I did get the opportunity in 1964 BEFORE it was officially re-opened for tourists to enter it, to go through Dachau Concentration camp (located near Munich); which was also the prototype camp for all the others that came later.
My family had two friends, married to each other, who had met in one of the camps, I met them when I was around age 11-12; I remember them showing all of us kids the numbers tattooed on their forearms, and told us to never forget that "evil men can do evil things, while always claiming what they are doing good".
I am very thankful that General Eisenhower ordered lots of film and still photos be made of all the camps and their occupants for posterity, because as he stated 1945 when they were being found,
"One day, there will be those who will claim this never happened". Sadly, it has only been some 70 years, and we are seeing some Neo-nazis claiming this, Iranian leadership claiming this, and many others. Problem for them is that PROOF refutes their lies. But as a certain man in Nazi Germany said. "tell a lie loud enough and long enough and people will start believing it."
Been to Europe twice this year
We visited Remagen in early May. The emphasis was on the Allied failure. We spent considerable time, later on, in the Jewish ghetto in Prague. Our guide, who was Jewish, was appalled by the fact that my father firmly believed that the Holocaust was a myth, that only a few thousand people died. I never succumbed to his mania. One has only to read the 80,000 names on the wall of the memorial in Prague, and view the drawings done by the children interred in Terezin to understand a fragment of what happened.
A beautiful story that I'm very sorry to have missed the first time.
Portia
Very powerful story telling
Yes, I cried. For evil still stirs men's hearts desire to take that which is not theirs. The death of others in such an evil task bothers them not. Yet, it is the mindless sheep who foolishly follow without question wish enables such evil men. Those of us who have been in such hellacious wars are usually wiser but not always.
Thank you for such a moving story.
always,
Barb
Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl
Many people still practice that
Add genetic supremacy to the mix, and that's why other people started calling them "femi-Nazis." Take "benevolent" despotism and profiteering as motivations, and you get guys like Edward Bernays and his "council on public relations," and Ernest Dichter with his focus groups.
Misplaced
Seems my comment got misplaced. It was intended as a followup to Janice Lynn's.
Your story... Broken Glass
Thank you. I was very moved. Thank you.
A beautiful story
Huggles to Jenna and Shalimar for their twin "moose" production. It's a wonderfully written tale, powerful, passionate and purrrrrrfectly fitting for a veterans day release. Also thanks to the unnamed, but certainly not unloved or unappreciated posting fairy who put this story and several of mine here to share with others.
love to all, Maggie O'Malley
Broken Glass
Sweet and touching.
Aardvark
"Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony."
Mahatma Gandhi
Superb...
The images of war are always with us sadly, from the Balkans to Africa, from the Middle East to the Far East. It has been said that war is sterile, however I believe it isn't it is in fact very virulent, War breeds War. It hurts all people...
I have relatives who lived through WWII so I know partially of the British view on it. Now watching the news from Iraq, Sudan, Israel. Will it ever end?
I was always taught as a child that two wrongs don't make a right, perhaps someone should let Blair & Bush et al in on this truth.
Thank you for this wonderfull story, some odd spelling mistakes the 'consecration' camp?
JC
The Legendary Lost Ninja
Broken Glass
Shalimar,
The visions you brought into my mind were heart rending and beautiful. My partners family actually survived Krystalnacht and most of them managed to emigrate to Israel, Canada, the US and South America. My cousin was a Captain during the war and was a town Marshall after it was over. He also happened to be the go between for the SIS and the German Underground, and was part of the Neurenburg trials.
Thank you for this story and for being who you are.
Broken Glass
Good story Sis.
A historic TG read.
Not enough sex and boobs for me. lol
Big Hugs
Yes, the weird author with the boob fetish.
Yes, the weird author with the boob fetish.
a moving story
Well the story moved me deeply since I am German and my grand dad on my dad's side fought in the war.
I have visited Buchenwald as all children in the former GDR were to see one of the camps as part of their coming of age preparation.
It pains me and makes me very ashamed what happend in WW II.
I know all countries involved did things they should not have but still it was Germany who started the war. It pains me so much that a whole nation could be fooled to follow such crazyness.
But then again Hitler was a genius in one thing. Manipulating people.
I have to say the story is great since it shows all sides. There where quite a few Germans who did try to resist and that gives me some compfort.
One thing it did not say because of the magical change. Any one not "normal" went into the concentration camps as well, even if there were German. Homosexuals (and that included transsexuals) had to wear a pink triangle to show they are gay as the jewish had to wear the yellow david star.
So I would have died trying to make it as the boy I never was or would have sent to a camp if I would have tried to be true to myself.
THE PINK TRIANGLE, NAZI PERSECUTION OF HOMOSEXUALS
A section from above link:
The death rate of homosexuals in the camps was 60%, against 41% for political prisoners and 35% for Jehovah's Witnesses. Another significant figure is that two thirds of the homosexuals interned died in their first year of imprisonment in the camps.
These figures lead to two still provisional conclusions. The first: a considerable number of the homosexuals interned must have been more obvious representatives of the "habitual homosexuals", that is transsexuals. The second: "habitual" homosexuality was considered as a degenerative disease of the "Arian Race", and for this reason pseudoscientific experiments were carried out on them with particular intensity and were almost always - as we shall see - fatal. Furthermore, as emerges from testimonies, the determination of the SS against homosexuals was particularly violent.
In addition to this, the attitude adopted by homosexual prisoners - unlike those of the other categories - according to numerous witnesses, was that of giving up life, and there was an extremely high suicide rate (throwing themselves against the electrified barbed wire of the camps or refusing food). Homosexuals suffered more than other prisoners from very deep psychological collapse.
At first those interned on the basis of Paragraph 175 were forced to wear a yellow armband with an "A" in the middle. The "A" stood for the German word "Arschficker", sodomite. Other variations were black spots or the number "175", referring to the article of the law. Only later, in the severe Nazi iconographic style, a pink triangle sewed at chest height was adopted.
Life in concentrations camps for the "pink triangles"1 was terrible and second only to that of the Jewish prisoners.
So it pains me even more that there are some neo-nazis that really believe the camps had only been a lie or such things.
The camps still reck of burned human flesh. The slogan "Jedem das Seine" ("Every one his own") still mocks you at the gate of Buchenwald.
I live in Dresden now. The bombing here was mentioned in the story.
Last x-mass I gave my dad a DVD with videos from 1910 to 1935. I knew Dresden was called Elb Florenz and it was and is a city of art and culture and part of it has been beautifully rebuild. But it was very hard to see just how different the city looks today. How many beautifull old house have been detroyed.
The very place where I live was flattened for miles in a single long night. My grand parents said they could see the buring city from 25 km away over hills and valleys.
I know it was not necessary to bomb Dresden as Germany was already on it's knees but it is also hard for me to be mad at the Allies for doing it, since Germany did the very same thing before.
I'm also happy the original plan to use the A-bombs on Dresden and Berlin were not carried out. I would not be writting this if they had been. Those bomps to Japan were ony weapon tests and show off for the upcoming cold war since the US already had the technology working, where the Russians only got the papers from captured German scientist. But even if it was necessary for that reason a single bomb would have been enough. Sad how easy killing has become.
I just wish the world would learn that no war is ever right. And I hope one day it may even be OK again to say "I'm prowd to be German" again, as members of other nations say with theirs. For now that allways raises the question of what to be prowd of. It even implies one is a neo-nazi so we are still a brocken nation. For me it is a wound that will not heal in my live time I'm sure of it. Even if I was born 30 years after the end of the war nearly to the day.
There is also another thing I find very sad. Germany was one of the (THE?) most advanced countries in the world before the war. We could have been the first in space, the first atom power and so on. The Allies did in a way defeat Germany with its own weapons. Those scientist that fled the holocaust.
Then some times I think maybe it was good the war happend when it happend. What would have been if Hitler or some other crazy mind would have waited till Germany actually had rockets and a-bombs. If you think of it that way, you really are almost thankfull it happend that way. After all there were a few countries that had the spark for such a war. Germany was just the first to have the "right" person it make it a fire.
He turned our brocken pride after WW I around and gave the Germans their pride back (and then some). He gave them what they longed for. Work.
Well in any case I just hope we never see a replay of that scale of hate and destruction. We Germans got one message again and a again in school: "There must never start another war from German ground."
I will surely do what I can to keep that statement true.
Ah well it's way to late now but I just had to write this.
hugs you all
Holly
Friendship is like glass,
once broken it can be mented,
but there will always be a crack.