Note: In this brief post, I continue to explore the lives and fates of Josef and Rosalie Pauly’s nine children and their spouses, in this instance, Dr. Walter Riezler and his second wife, Edith Riezler née Pauly.
In 2012, I was invited to deliver a talk by the Muzeum Zulawskie in Nowy Dwór Gdański, Poland, formerly known as Tiegenhof, Free State of Danzig, where my Jewish-born father, Dr. Otto Bruck, was a dentist between 1932 and 1937. Following my presentation, discussing my father’s association with Tiegenhof and the photos he took there and in surrounding areas, copies of which I’ve donated to the museum, I was interviewed by a journalist from Pomerania, Mr. Andrzej Kasperek. (Figure 1) Ever since, Andrzej and I have periodically stayed in touch. Andrzej had once expressed an interest in writing about my father and his two siblings and their disparate fates during the Nazi era. (Figure 2) Thus, it came as no surprise when in 2018, Andrzej requested permission to use some of my father’s photos for an upcoming book. Naturally, I agreed to his entreaty.
Recently, I received a copy of Andrzej’s book, entitled “Mój Płaski Kraj Żuławy” (My Flat Zulawy Country). An entire chapter of the book is devoted to my father and his two siblings. While I neither read nor speak Polish, I can tell Andrzej’s chapter is based on stories I’ve posted to my Blog. In perusing the rest of the book, a photo of one of Vincent van Gogh’s famous landscapes painted in 1888 in Arles, France, entitled “Langlois Bridge at Arles” (Figure 3), caught my attention. I presume the author included this image in his book because it is reminiscent of the drawbridges one sees in Żuławy, the nearly flat delta area of the Vistula River in northern Poland.
The van Gogh painting in Andrzej Kasperek’s book is remarkably like a van Gogh landscape Edith Pauly’s husband, Dr. Walter Riezler, acquired on behalf of the Muzeum Narodowe w Szczecinie, the National Museum, Szczecin [formerly Stettin, Germany], as its first director there between 1910 and 1933. (Figure 4) To remind readers, Edith Pauly was the seventh of my great-great-uncle and aunt Josef and Rosalie Pauly’s nine children (Figure 5), and the second of Dr. Riezler’s wives. She was a singing teacher, a mezzo-soprano. (Figure 6)
Edith’s husband, Dr. Walter Riezler (Figure 7), was an eminent classical archaeologist, art historian, design theoretician, museologist, and musicologist. As a student in Munich, he tutored the precocious son of his archaeology professor Dr. Adolf Furtwängler, Wilhelm, who would go on to become one of the greatest symphonic and operatic conductors of the 20th Century. It is not my intention to relate the biography of this accomplished man, but merely to focus on a few things about his life that touch on subjects of broader historical interest or family history; readers can learn more about Dr. Riezler by going to German Wikipedia (Wikipedia.de), entering Riezler’s name, and translating the text.
The van Gogh painting acquired by Dr. Riezler as Director of the National Museum in Szczecin is contemporaneous with a series of landscapes rendered by van Gogh between 1888-1889 when the artist lived in Arles, in the southern part of France. The title of the painting acquired by Riezler is entitled “A Lane Near Arles.” It depicts a lane surrounded by trees running between the fields outside Arles, with a yellow house at the side of the lane. (Figure 8)
Riezler’s acquisition of van Gogh’s painting comported with his view of a modern art collection. From the time of his arrival in Szczecin in April 1910, Riezler was involved in the development of a collection of modern art, especially 19th century paintings and contemporary artistic trends, such as expressionism and New Objectivity. Riezler felt it necessary to focus on the acquisition of works of art that were a representative collection of the latest trends that would unite the present with the past; he felt this approach would result in one of the best collections nationally and would attract art lovers and researchers from around the globe. Riezler even orchestrated the sale of one of the museum’s most valuable works, the painting of a man by the Dutch painter Frans Hals, because the painting did not fit into the museum’s scope of collections; he compensated for it by purchasing other works of great importance. Knowing the adverse reaction this painting’s sale would provoke in opposition circles, he kept it confidential at the time. It seems clear that throughout his tenure as museum director, Riezler was opposed by conservative German artists who, among other things, critiqued his allegedly anti-patriotic love of French art. Ultimately, all this would lead to his downfall when the Nazis rose to power, even though he was not Jewish. He was accused by the Nazis of “cultural Bolshevism” (German: Kulturbolschewismus) which led to his leave of absence in April 1933.
I confess, I’d never previously heard this term. I’ve come to learn it is sometimes specifically referred to as “art Bolshevism” or “music Bolshevism,” and “was a term widely used by critics in Nazi Germany to denounce modernist movements in the arts.” What makes this issue so fascinating is that the Nazis successfully linked the expansion of modern art, which had roots going back to the 1860’s, to the October 1917 Revolution in Russia. Though these events occurred at around the same time, the connection between modernism and Bolshevism was tenuous at best. What they appear to have had in common is that both existed at the same unsettled time in European history, and the fact that some artists drew inspiration from revolutionary ideals. In Mein Kampf, Hitler devotes a chapter to the association of modernism and Bolshevism. With Hitler’s ascension to power, the Nazis denounced several contemporary styles, including abstract art and impressionism.
While Riezler’s supporters maintained the accusation he was a cultural Bolshevist was completely groundless, citing the diversified acquisitions during his tenure as museum Director, the Nazis deprived him of his roles as editor and museum director, so he retired. He settled outside Munich, studying musicology, and, in 1936, published a book on the works of Ludwig von Beethoven, and left an unfinished manuscript on Schubert upon his death.
One family-related matter of interest is that Dr. Walter Riezler was good friends with Klaus Pauly, whom I’ve discussed in previous posts. Readers will recall that Klaus developed the detailed Pauly family tree I’ve often referred to. Both Dr. Riezler and Klaus were lovers of music and would often attend musical performances together in Munich. Returning from a performance one evening, a car struck the vehicle they were riding in, and Dr. Riezler was killed on impact. He died on 22nd January 1965.
As to the van Gogh painting Dr. Walter Riezler acquired on behalf of the National Museum, Szczecin during his tenure as director there, it is now owned by the Pomeranian State Museum in Greifswald (Mecklenburg, West Pomerania), Germany, 105 miles distant. Likely, the painting was moved to this quiet civil servant town during the war on account of Allied bombing of the shipyards located in Szczecin, and there it’s remained. Apparently, the Polish authorities feared that by requesting its return after the war from the government of the German Democratic Republic, of which Greifswald was a part, this might in turn prompt a request by the Germans for the return of works of art relocated to Poland from places like Berlin, Dresden, and Leipzig during the war. (Personal communication: Paul Newerla)
REFERENCE
Kubiak, Szymon Piotr and Dariusz Kacprzak (editors)
2013 Katalog Der Ausstellung, Zum Hundertjährigen Eröffnungsjubiläum, Des Hauptgebäudes Des Nationalmuseums Stettin. Szczecin.
Note: This post is about a fascinating man originally named Isaak Edward Schnitzer, born into a middle-class German Jewish family from Silesia, who adopted a Turkish mode of living and took the Turkish name, Mehmed Emin Pascha. I discovered he is related by marriage to the Pauly family about whom I’ve recently been writing.
Several of my recent Blog posts have dealt with the tragic circumstances surrounding the fate of several descendants of my great-great-uncle and aunt, Josef and Rosalie Pauly, during the Nazi Era. This post deals not with their descendants but rather with one of Josef’s ancestors by marriage, an exotic individual who turns out to have been rather well-known.
An elaborate hand-drawn Stammbaum, family tree, developed by one of Josef and Rosalie’s grandsons, Klaus Pauly (Figure 1), was given to me in 2015 by Peter Pauly (Figure 2) and Andi Pauly (Figure 3), two of Klaus’ sons; this tree provides an enormous amount of detailed information that’s allowed me to better understand the relationship between different branches of my extended family, and is a resource I repeatedly consult. Re-examining this tree, I found a name Klaus Pauly had jotted down that was assuredly not Jewish, “Emin Pascha,” including a notation of the name “Eduard Schnitzer” (Figure 4); Emin Pascha was merely identified as the brother of the second wife of one of Josef Pauly’s (Figure 5) uncles, Jakob Pauly, the wife’s only identifier being her maiden name, Schnitzer. The notation seemed out-of-place in the Stammbaum, so I did a Google query on Emin Pascha (Figure 6), and was rewarded with a flurry of information about this fascinating character, part of which provided the inspiration for the title of this Blog post.
According to what I found on the Internet, Emin was born Isaak Eduard Schnitzer in Oppeln, Silesia, Germany [today: Opole, Poland] on March 28, 1840, into a middle-class German Jewish family; they moved when Emin was about 2 to the not-to-distant town of Neisse, Germany [today: Nysa, Poland]. (Figure 7) His father died in Neisse in 1845, whereupon his mother remarried a Christian, and she and her offspring were baptized Lutherans.
Neither Emin’s father nor mother’s names were mentioned in any of the sources I examined. But, with specific dates and places in hand, I turned to ancestry.com to see whether I could find their names, and, if possible, confirm Emin’s biography; there I unearthed a family tree identifying Louis Schnitzer and Pauline Schnitzer née Schweitzer as Emin’s parents, along with the name of a younger sister, Melanie Schnitzer (Figure 8), born a year after Emin. While not specifically named in the Pauly family tree, Melanie is clearly the second wife of Jakob Pauly, one of Josef Pauly’s uncles. (Figures 9-10)
Not satisfied with merely confirming the names and relationships of Emin’s next-of-kin, I became curious whether I could find any of their names in on-line Jewish records, so I turned to famlysearch.org, the website of the Mormon Church. For those unfamiliar with this database, it is possible to search for Jewish records by place starting on the portal page by selecting “Catalog,” entering the name of the town (Figure 11), hitting “Search,” selecting “Jewish Records,” if any, and finally clicking on “Matrikel” (“register”) for whatever time period you’re interested in; the next screen will list any microfilm available for the place you’ve selected. Any microfilm with a camera icon on the far right can be viewed from home, and pages downloaded.
I was able to locate Jewish records on microfilm for the two Silesian towns related to Emin, Oppeln and Neisse. Astonishingly, I found the register pages for Oppeln showing that Emin’s father, Louis Schnitzer, had one child born on March 29, 1840 (Figure 12), obviously Emin (Eduard), then another a year later March 28, 1841 (Figure 13), obviously Melanie. In the Jewish records for Neisse, the nearby town where Emin’s family moved when he was two years old, I discovered that Louis and Pauline Schnitzer were married on June 26, 1839 (Figure 14), and that Louis died on February 24, 1845 (Figure 15); because the Neisse marriage register also mentions Oppeln, it’s not entirely clear in which town the parents were married. Regular readers of my Blog will know I’m never entirely satisfied until I run-to-ground any source documents I’m able to find, ergo my exhaustive search.
Readers can click on the hyperlinks related to Emin to find out more about his exceptional life and career but let me briefly summarize. Emin was educated at universities in Breslau, Königsberg, and Berlin, qualifying as a physician in 1864; for reasons that are unclear, he was disqualified from practice, and left Germany for Istanbul with the intention of entering the Ottoman service. In 1865 he became a medical officer in the Turkish army. He was linguistically talented, and while in the service added Turkish, Albanian and Greek to his repertoire of European languages.
After joining the staff of the Ottoman governor of northern Albania, around 1870, Emin adopted a Turkish way of living and took a Turkish name. In 1876, Emin became a medical officer in Khartoum, as a staff member of the British governor-general of the Sudan, Gen. Charles Gordon. In 1878, Gordon appointed him governor of Equatoria in the southern Sudan, today South Sudan, operating out of Lado. He was an enlightened administrator and brought an end to slavery in the region he administered.
In 1881, Emin was forced to withdraw southwards from Lado on account of a revolt led by Muhammad Ahmad, a mystical religious leader who tapped into widespread resentment among the Sudanese population towards the oppressive policies of the Turko-Egyptian rulers of Equatoria. The “Emin Pascha Relief Expedition,” led by Henry Morton Stanley, of Stanley and Livingstone fame, was forced to come to Emin’s rescue in April 1888 (Figure 16); Emin Pascha and Stanley spent many uneasy months together in argument and indecision, and ultimately Stanley left without being able to bring Emin home in triumph. Following Stanley’s departure, Emin entered the service of the German East Africa Company and was murdered on the 23rd October 1892, in the Congo Free State [today: Democratic Republic of the Congo] by Arab slave traders, among whom he’d made many enemies for his views on slavery, while on an expedition to lakes in the interior of that country. (Figure 17)
Clearly, Emin Pascha, was not a blood relative of mine, but as I research and write about my own family, I occasionally come across compelling characters who’ve left their trace in the historical record such as Emin. As a former archaeologist, I find brushes with people of renown the inspiration for Blog stories, and I’m drawn to chronicle such encounters. And, in the process, I sometimes find myself learning about historical events or places of which I know little, but which still find their way into today’s news, such as the South Sudan and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, for reasons that may partially have their origins in the Colonial period. As an example, the introduction of sleeping sickness into Uganda is attributed by scholars to the movement of Emin and his followers; prior to the 1890’s, sleeping sickness was unknown in Uganda, but it is theorized that the tsetse fly was probably brought by Emin from the Congo territory.
Note: This post provides the answer posed to readers in Post 49 challenged to find the death register listing of my grandfather among the civil registry records of the Landesarchiv Berlin.
Most readers will never have any reason to access the Landesarchiv Berlin civil registry records (i.e., births: 1874-1907; marriages: 1874-1937; deaths: 1874-1987), so I expect few if any of you attempted to locate the name of my grandfather Felix Bruck in Berlin’s Sterberegister, death records, unless you enjoy challenges. That said, this turned out to be more difficult than I intended. Let me review for readers the information I provided in Post 49, then explain why ferreting out my grandfather’s death listing was not as straight-forward as I may have led readers to believe.
Figure 1 is the scan I provided of my grandfather’s death certificate (the archaic German word “Todesschein” is used, but the modern German term is “Totenschein”). The Todesschein includes the following information:
Death Register Nr. 971 of the year 1927 First name and surname: Felix Bruck Husband of Else née Berliner from Berlin-Wilmersdorf at Düsseldorfer Straße 24 Profession: pensioner, 63 years old, born in Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland] Died on the 23rd of June 1927 in Berlin IX Recorded Berlin on 22nd of July 1927 The Registrar.
Theoretically, all the information readers needed to locate my grandfather’s death register listing was provided, so no sleight-of-hand was perpetrated. Some readers may have assumed that because my grandfather lived with my grandmother, Else Bruck née Berliner, in Berlin-Wilmersdorf at Düsseldorfer Straße 24, his death would have been registered in the Standesamt, civil register office, that today encompasses the Berlin boroughs of Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf; this would be a reasonable assumption, and where I myself started. Unfortunately, I did not find my grandfather listed in the 1927 Sterberegister for the neighborhood of Wilmersdorf.
I remind readers of the situation I discussed in Post 49 of Dr. Ernst Neisser, husband of my first cousin twice removed, who attempted to commit suicide on October 1, 1942 with his first cousin, Luise Neisser; while Luise was successful and died that day, Ernst lingered in a coma until October 4th. Luise’s death was registered in the Standesamt -Charlottenburg where she and Ernst shared an apartment, but since Ernst was taken to the Jüdische Krankenhaus Berlin, Berlin Jewish Hospital, and succumbed there, his death was recorded in the neighborhood of Wedding in the Berlin borough of Mitte where the hospital is located, in an altogether different civil register office, in Standesamt-Wedding.
I began to suspect a similar circumstance may have arisen with my grandfather Felix Bruck, that he died in a different Berlin borough than he lived; thus, I re-examined his Todesschein, death certificate, which I fortunately have a copy of. The stamp on the certificate, which I’ve circled, reads “Berlin IX.” (Figure 2) If readers noticed this, like me, they may have shrugged it off as being irrelevant since it does not correspond with the name of any Berlin borough, either past or present. However, in fact, this is the key to solving “the challenge.” By typing in “Berlin” in the search box Standesamt on the Landesarchiv Berlin portal page, a pull-down menu listing 13 Berlin neighborhoods, plus additional subdivisions within some, appears. Here you select “Berlin IX” and Sterberegister, press “Suchen (i.e., Search),” and the death register for year 1927 is among those listed. Scroll down to the surnames beginning with the letter “B,” and here’s where you’ll find my grandfather’s name recorded under the month of June. (Figures 3a-b)
I can hear readers asking themselves two questions, “how would I have known to check for the ‘borough’ Berlin when no such named borough existed?” and “what records do the listed Berlin civil registration offices ‘I-XIII’ contain?” These, at least, are the two questions I asked myself. Not knowing the answers to them, I turned to one of my German cousins, and his explanation allowed me to understand the significance of these records and make connections between historical events I’d previously failed to see as related.
To understand the meaning of “Berlin IX” found on my grandfather’s death certificate, it is necessary to briefly review the history of Prussia and Berlin between 1874 and 1920. The German Empire was established in 1871, and Prussia was by far the largest and most influential state in the new German Empire; Berlin was the capital of Prussia, and henceforth became the capital of the German Empire. As previously discussed, in 1920, the “Greater Berlin Act” incorporated dozens of suburban cities, villages and estates around Berlin into an expanded city; the act increased the area of Berlin from 66 to 883 km2 (25 to 341 sq. mi). Between 1874 and 1920, the old city of Berlin was composed of 13 districts (Figure 4), each of which had a Standesamt, civil register office, including Berlin IX. The old Berlin corresponds roughly to the current borough of “Mitte.” (Figure 5) The civil register offices for these original, older Berlin districts recorded vital events until 1937-38, whereupon they were recorded by Standesamt offices in the then newly constituted boroughs of Mitte, Tiergarten, and Wedding, until the latest reorganization of the Berlin boroughs in 2001 that established the present, expanded borough of Mitte.
“Berlin IX” meant the so-called “Spandauer Vorstadt” (Figure 6), a suburb of Berlin with the name Spandau, or “Spandau Revier” (“revier” means territory) as is written on my grandfather’s death certificate. Spandauer Vorstadt (“vorstadt” means suburb) should not be confused with the outlying Berlin borough of Spandau, of which it was never a part.
The year 1874 was important in the history of Prussia. As discussed in the original Post 49, this year saw the establishment of the Standesämter, civil registration offices, for recording births, marriages, and deaths. These registry offices were the result of the Kulturkampf, the conflict between the German imperial government and the Roman Catholic Church from about 1871 to 1887, predominantly over the control of educational and ecclesiastical appointments. The German imperial government had the dream of breaking the influence of the Roman Catholic Church in the school system and in everyday life of individuals, and thereby compelled that births, marriages and deaths be registered as civil rather than religious “events.” With the establishment of the civil registration offices, the churches and other religious entities lost these functions.
I don’t expect readers to recall this but I discussed the Kulturkampf in a much earlier post (Post 12) in the context of explaining how I was finally able to locate the birth certificates for my father, born in 1907 in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland] and his sister, born there in 1904, only when I examined the civil records at the “Archiwum Państwowe W Katowicach Oddzial W Raciborzu (State Archives in Katowice Branch in Racibórz),” where these are archived. The important thing for interested readers to understand is that after about 1874, one must turn to civil registration offices to find vital records for one’s ancestors who resided in the German Empire.
For readers who have a need to search the Berlin civil register records, you will find it challenging, time-consuming, and frustrating. Still, it can be rewarding. In recent months, I’ve discovered 12 historic certificates involving 14 individuals related or connected to my family. In five other instances where I have credible knowledge a vital event took place in Berlin, I’ve been unable to find any record of the event. For births, I would expect them to have occurred in the city, village or estate where the parents resided, but with marriages and deaths, they could easily have taken place in a different town or borough than where the people resided, making them much more difficult to track down.
Since publishing Post 49, I was contacted by a woman from Mexico City whose Jewish father fled Germany in the 1930’s and had his citizenship revoked by the Nazis; the father is trying to re-establish his German citizenship and needs to track down vital documents for himself and his deceased parents to bolster his claim. Despite having very precise knowledge where in Berlin-Wilmersdorf her father and grandparents lived and when the grandparents got married, I’ve been unable to help this lady find relevant historic documents. Because of privacy laws, birth certificates after 1907 are only available to immediate family, so the family will need to contact the civil register office for Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf to obtain this document for the father born in 1931; since I was unable to locate the grandparents’ 1930 marriage register listing, the family will also be compelled to request a search for this document by this office.
This post allows readers to quickly retrieve all previous Blog publications, and easily see which ones I’ve written postscripts to based on newly acquired information.
“Jetpack,” a plug-in for the WordPress software package I use for my website, tracks the number of “All-time views” and tells me which posts are the most popular. It is clear readers are most interested in first-hand accounts, letters, and diaries of the people and tragic historical events I write about. Equally compelling to readers seem to be stories where I’ve worked out the fate of people my father and ancestors were acquainted with, or managed to locate their descendants. As readers can imagine, first-hand accounts are hard to come by because few exist, or they were destroyed during the war. Regardless, because most are handwritten in hard-to-decipher German, which I don’t speak or read, I rely on a network of relatives and friends for translations and interpretations; I am most grateful for their generous assistance.
As previously explained to readers, my digital “footprint” is intentionally small, so the number of visits to my Blog is correspondingly bounded. However, given the great effort that’s gone into maintaining and expanding the website, I hope by consolidating links in one easy-to-access place, I might remind readers of the wide range of topics I’ve written about and increase the number of “clicks” on my posts.
Remark: This post marks two milestones, my 50th Blog post (not including postscripts) and two years since I launched the Bruck Family History Blog. I apologize to readers for the length of this Blog post but since it is a diary of roughly the last two months of my relatives’ lives during the Nazi Era, I want to present it in its entirety without interruption.
Note: This is the moving story of Dr. Adolf Guttentag and Helene Guttentagnée Pauly (Figure 1), my first cousin twice removed and her husband, describing their final months in Berlin in 1942 before they were ordered by the Nazis to present themselves for deportation to Theresienstadt but instead elected to end their lives.
For the benefit of their son, Dr. Otto Guttentag (Figure 2), who had managed to immigrate with his first wife Dorothee Guttentag née Haken (Figure 3) to America in December 1933 after the Nazis rose to power, my first cousin twice removed and her husband , Dr. Adolf Guttentag and Helene Guttentag née Pauly, who were unable to escape wrote a diary for their son. (Figure 4) Not wanting the story to be exclusively about their final months, they also captured in writing things they wanted their son to remember about them and memories of their earlier lives. Given their fate—they committed suicide together in October 1942—the story is tinged with bitter-sweetness.
In the course of updating my family tree on ancestry.com, I learned about Adolf and Helene’s son, Otto Guttentag, and discovered he came to America. I located his obituary and found out he passed away in 1992, leaving three grown children behind. With more forensic work, I was able to connect with one of Otto’s children, Christoph Guttentag (Figure 5), who told me about his grandparents’ diary which I was able to locate on-line.
Following Adolf and Helene Guttentag’s deaths, the diary was salvaged by one of their neighbors and eventually made its way into the hands of their son. Otto’s second wife, Erika Guttentag, lovingly and impeccably translated the document into English, and the family donated the original diary and the translation to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. What follows is Erika’s translation of Adolf and Helene’s diary along with her numerical footnotes in parentheses. I have added some alphabetically-ordered footnotes in red, shown images of and/or historic documents related to some of the people mentioned, and provided some context where I thought that was useful. For obvious reasons I’ve made a concerted effort to keep my own “footprint” as small as possible.
Briefly, for orientation, Dr. Adolf Guttentag’s wife, Helene Guttentag née Pauly, was the sister of Margarethe Neisser née Pauly, married to Dr. Ernst Neisser (Figure 6), subject of Blog post 48. To remind readers, Margarethe suffered from depression and committed suicide in October 1941, while her husband and his first cousin, Luise Neisser, took their lives in October 1942 after they were given less than 24 hours to present themselves for deportation to Theresienstadt; Adolf’s diary mentions this event, and corroborates what Ernst Neisser’s daughter, Suse Vogel, wrote about it that was the subject of Blog post 48.
DIARY OF ADOLF GUTTENTAG (1942)
ON THE COVER OF THE NOTEBOOK: IF POSSIBLE, GET THIS LAST DIARY TO ‘OTTO E. GUTTENTAG, M.D. ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA’
August 22, 1942
Early in the summer of 1942 the possibility arose that we might be evacuated. Änne [1] has already been transported to Poland for heavy work. Now her mother [2] will be evacuated again, that is, for the third time. Rather large transports now occur at a rapid pace. A farewell letter to Otto and Dorothee [3], which I have deposited with Maria W. [4], describes in two notebooks, the general development of my family. In addition, I have decided to start making diary-type entries which show how we are, i.e., how our health is, how we spend our time, what else is going on, what we must expect, and what our plans are.
(This paper is so thin that I am using only one side so that it will be easier to read. I don’t just want to describe our misery to you but will write about other things for you to remember about your parents.)
After a lengthy pause I begin on
August 22, 1942
We were living in a pleasant boarding-house on Kurfürstendamm [A], from where we wrote to you. On October 1, 1941, we were forced by the authorities to leave this street. A colleague, who had become a friend and with whom Uncle Ernst [5] had consulted several times, had mentioned an unfurnished room where we could be housed and get our meals. (With difficulty and at emotional and material cost) we managed to get from Hirschberg[B] our basic furniture, necessary clothes and the barest mount of linens so that we could get established here. We have full board, i.e., all meals. The cleaning of the room is done primarily by us. The room is on the second floor, is about 4 x 5.5 meter squared [6] and has a balcony. In front of it is a big maple tree. We have planted beans on the balcony so that we are somewhat shielded from the rather unpleasant opposite side. In our room are my bed, a couch on which Mutti [7] sleeps, a wardrobe (our so-called “star” wardrobe because of the two inlaid stars; at Berliner Tor [8] it was in our bedroom); the big cabinet which used to be in Franz L.’s [9] study and now holds our dishes and linens; our Empire chest with the metal fittings that used to be in the dining room, and the desk which we had bought for Dorothee and then, unfortunately, were not allowed to send you. Everything is close together, but the room looks homey and the old, beautiful furniture still has its effect. In the middle of the room is a large mahogany table, 90 cm. in diameter, and around it four mahogany chairs that used to be in Frz. L.’s downstairs front room. In addition, we have two comfortable, upholstered chairs. This is how we have been living for close to 11 months. Because of the great distances all errands and visits are time-consuming, so Mutti is quite busy with errands even though she does not have to cook. However, since a number of relatives and friends are no longer here, our social contacts are getting fewer and fewer. Of course, you cannot expect that, because of increasing worry about the immediate future, we look any better, even though our nutrition is entirely adequate. With increasing age, I have become more detached and thus look at things to come with equanimity. My father was like that, I think, while the Pauly family has lost none of its spirit. It is fortunate for me that Mutti has kept her common sense (German: “Ueberlegung”) and her resoluteness. In the past several years my forgetfulness, distractibility and inability to concentrate have increased considerably. Thus, it is characteristic that I can read Homer and extract vocabulary but often cannot understand a new point of view. Thus, I can sometimes participate in a conversation and can give good medical advice, for which the others are often grateful. I have learned quite well to conceal some deficiency in comprehension. Thus, I am content, and I put up with these symptoms of old age and with my residual speech defect of 1932. How I wish that Mutti would look a little better! Her pallor surely is related to her vascular spasms which occur at every new worry and every frightening news. Her urine is free of E.u.Z. [C], as I could recently determine. She sleeps well; if only she allowed herself more rest!
As an introduction to this diary I have described to you how we live since I have not been able to write to you in many months.
While I am at home much of the time, reading, helping Mutti as best I can, Mutti runs errands. What makes it hard is the fact that we are permitted to shop for only one certain hour. [D] There is no point in describing to you all the limitations dictated to us. Should you want to know, you will be able to find out all about them later—but not now. In the beginning Mutti was able to visit with many relatives and friends, as many of the Poseners [E] had moved here. Now almost all of them are gone. Correspondence is further limited because many cannot be written to. It is painful that, for the time being, we will lose all contact with Ellchen (Figure 7), who will be evacuated within days. None of the first cousins are any longer here: one, Else [F] (Figure 8) is in Cuba, another is in Theresienstadt near the Saxonian border in Bohemia, the fortress assigned to receive evacuees. So far there are no news about them because at this time the post office does not process mail. Another cousin, Lotte M. [G] (Figure 9) lives in Sweden with her son and daughter-in-law and knows several Germans who are now living there. We are convinced that somebody, perhaps Georg, has written to you. We were told he had, but he did not receive an answer. He told us that he would write you again, perhaps some time this month, i.e., August ’42. Our Swiss friend, who sends us a note once in a while, wrote that she had received a letter from you. That was in the spring of ’42. However, she only reported—probably intentionally—that you are well and busy. So far, we have not yet tried to write via the Red Cross; we believe that you have not done so either, for good reasons. A message, which may consist of 25 words, has always taken 3 months to reach us. Through this channel it would have taken just as long, but we could have written more, if the mail goes through at all. [H]
We are home alone. A physician came in for a moment. He is a well-known neurologist who has written a comprehensive book on encephalitis, which Ernst [10] translated into English last year. He had a respected position but, as so many, had to give it up. He came to tell us, unfortunately, that he had suddenly been informed that he had to make a list of assets, etc.; that meant that he would soon be evacuated. In spite of extreme malnutrition, blindness in one eye and poor vision in the other (all probably tuberculosis), he seems to be scheduled for transport to the East!
Maria’s [Maria Wundsch] husband had sent us a number of papers concerning his fishery work. They are of zoological as well as economic importance. I have read them carefully because I had no idea what there is in the world outside of medicine. We have sent those papers to Mutti’s brother [11] who, like another friend, is very much interested in the development and utilization of fish in the lakes of the Havel river in the province of Brandenburg. A few days from now Maria’s husband will inspect a lake there. As for us, we cannot initiate any such contacts because they would endanger others and ourselves.
There s a magazine in Germany: “Research and Progress: Journal of German Science and Technology,” organ of the State Research Council. Founded and edited by Karl Kerkhof. Published three times a month. RM 3.00 quarter. Berlin-NW7, Unter den Linden 8. From bookstores through Joh. Ambrosius Barth, Leipzig. Maria’s husband gave me the 1941 issues to read, and I shall quote any articles I find. The first one: “20 Years of German Scientific Research” by Ministerialdirektor Professor Mentzel is an excerpt from a “Festrede” (i.e., speech) of the Emergency Association of German Science. However, like other papers, it is too scholarly for me because it presumes too much knowledge. About medicine it says that the State Research Council will emphasize new fields of research: heritage and race research, population politics, colonial medicine, and cancer research.
Monday, August 24, 1942
Last night, at 1:20am an attack of arrhythmia without recognizable reason. By taking ½ tablet of Theominal I slept more or less through the night, took 2 tablets Cardiotrat, without benefit. Quiet was not restored until after a bowel movement. Duration pf the attack: 7 hours. Of the drugs Landiotorin (?) contains convallaria maialis, caffeine, and . . .landiotrat, benzoicum, Miridin, Barbitursäure, Dimethylyanthin (?) After a long period of no side effects of Theominal, I observed muscle cramps after each use, again today in the tibialis anterior muscle.
Tuesday, August 25, 1942
Yesterday I stayed home and leafed through an old book. Occasionally, famous natural scientists described their travel experiences and elicited much interest. I remember, for instance, reading travel descriptions by Ernst Haeckel, before he was so famous. He could write very appealingly and vividly. This time it was a well-known botanist, Professor (Ordinarius) Strasburger of Bonn, probably working in Bonn, judging from the foreword. He published “Excursions on the Riviera” in 1895. I am quoting, among other observations, the following botanical remarks, which may be of interest to you. “In marked contrast to these fragrant plants, there is another, Lauraceae, an evergreen tree thriving here, whose name ‘Oreodaphne california,’ also states its origin. In gardens it is often called ‘Laurus regalis.’ In appearance it indeed resembles a laurel, but when one rubs one of its leaves between the fingers it gives off a volatile oil. Even the smallest amount of it greatly irritates the mucous membranes of the olfactory organs. In California, one tries not to stay close to such a tree if the wind blows from that direction, because the volatile oils with which it is laden, cause prolonged sneezing.”
I hope some day you will see these notes after all and perhaps check out those statements. I was at the Riviera once, as a student, with Alfr. B. As usual, we had laboriously saved our month allowances in order to travel. If I had known this book by Strasburger at that time I would have learned more about the beauty of this coastline, unique in Europe. With Mutti I was at the Italian Riviera only once, to Riviera di Levante (incidentally I also went once with Franz Leonhard), whose beauty is similar. But the French Riviera (according to the above-mentioned book) is charming because of the Maritime Alps shimmering to the northeast (which, to the south, turn into the Esterel Massif). We didn’t get to take this trip, or to parts of Switzerland, which I wanted to show Mutti. Of course, Mutti has been to the Mediterranean several times, the last time to Marseille when we visited Provence and stayed a while. Naturally, we have very beautiful postcards from this trip. The pictures of nature and the reproductions of the astonishing achievements of the Romans are part of my often-mentioned collection. The trip to Provence is one of our unforgettable memories. It was our last trip, I believe.
Thursday, August 27, 1942
The first hot day yesterday; so far, the summer has been mostly cool with cloudy skies. After a little walk to buy bread I was rather tired. Around 1 o’clock at night we were awakened by sirens. We dressed, got all our documents ready (copy of the testament, burial spot including receipt, wish to be cremated, etc.) as well as clothes for transport, also all medicines with morphine Entodal (?)[I] -Scopolamine syringe and sufficient Veronal, and waited. Just one hour later the all-clear signal sounded. We went to bed, slept until morning and got up at the usual time, well rested.
Friday, August 28, 1942
Goethe’s birthday. He was born at noon, as mentioned in “Truth and Poetry (Dichtung und Warheit),” I believe. The older I get the more I value Goethe, for he was a noble man which, to be sure, I am not. My shortcomings become ever clearer to me, but I also recognize much that can be explained medically. But I am not important enough to others to get into it. Goethe did not consider himself perfect either; he too recognized his faults. I can’t remember the verse he wrote about it so I can’t quote it. However, he always wanted the best; he was, in the highest sense, moral. “Whoever strives with all his might, him we can save” etc. (“Faust” end of Part II)
August 31, 1942
On August 23rd I told you about the neurologist who expected to be evacuated. He could not face the prospect of being sent to an old people’s home or to be deported to Poland, so he took his life yesterday. Like many, many others, he did not want to go on living because he would have to give up what little freedom we all still have, and he no longer had an opportunity to contribute and subordinate himself (sic). Many face this choice, especially older people, to which group we also belong—I at almost 74, Mutti correspondingly younger. This would be the decision to make: would it be possible to leave Germany at the end of the war, move in with you, without means, but perhaps able to earn a little something that could make life in your home easier. If later on that is not permitted, the best scenario would be to be put in an old people’s home, where, of course, only the most basic necessities of life would be permitted. They [the homes] are different in different areas, some are in the barracks of an old fortress in Bohemia, others in villages in Poland. Because of the uncertainty about their fate many older people decide to end their lives, especially those who cannot hope to be taken in by members of their families abroad once the war is over. These, then, are the options: During the war nobody gets out of Germany. If the outcome of the war is favorable for Germany, some [of us] will have to continue to live in a ghetto—whatever its form. Some could emigrate at the expense of others if that should be permitted after the end of war. These are the questions all face who can lose the right to stay in their apartments at any time, because in that case they have to get ready for evacuation. If we lose our room, we, too, have to make that decision. If the war ends unfavorably for Germany, nobody who is considered non-Aryan will stay here, if they should still be alive.
September 2, 1942
(This day was observed as a holiday until the World War because it was seen as the founding of the Empire after the French army, being surrounded by Molkte’s strategy, had to surrender.)
I hope that you can understand what I have written, although I have written somewhat out of sequence. The reason is that I can only write for short periods of time. Meanwhile, I get more and more sad news about others, which move us deeply. Again and again I am faced with the question: Shall I, or shall I not, take Veronal and Scopolamine-Entodal (?) and end my life on the day I receive notice of evacuation? My first concern is for Mutti; if she wanted it I would do it immediately; but if she had hopes of seeing you again some time, it would, of course, be sad if I didn’t make it too. Thus, the question gradually comes to these alternatives: If one believes that the war will end soon in a way that we can get to you unscathed, one should ride it out; otherwise at least I should terminate my life. For years heart trouble prevented me from accomplishing anything. In the past few years it has gotten somewhat better so that, with light medication, I can do more. However, in the present hot weather it is doubtful if I could stand deportation to Theresienstadt without heart trouble that could lead to other problems. For two or three weeks I have had edemas in my ankles, first in the right ankle, and eight days later, somewhat less, in the left ankle. Liver and spleen are enlarged. E in the urine 0:ZO RR 122, measured today. The edemas cause no discomfort at all. I remember that at the physical examination in the military varicose veins were noted on my instep. They were not particularly pronounced; otherwise, I have no varicose veins at all.
September 4, 1942
Two more families are gone. I knew one of them by name from Breslau. She is related to Else M. [12] and lived inKrummhübel, Riesengebirge for a few years. After she had to leave there she lived in Berlin for a few months. Now this family has been picked up and deported head over heels; they don’t tell where to. As usual, any contact with Theresienstadt is impossible. Thus, we don’t know what happened to Ellchen, either. Mail is not forwarded. What cruelty!
The other family is related to Mutti, the parents of both women were cousins, I believe. The family is still here, but the first step, the initial registration, has been taken. The family is greatly affected, since the husband is paralyzed in both legs. He suffers from stiffening of both hip joints (diagnosis not entirely clear); his wife, after gynecological changes and elongated colon, has most severe constipation, etc. All those people are in their sixties—in other words 60-70 years old—and are not up to those hardships.
September 6, 1942
Frz. L.’s [Franz Leonhard] birthday. I wrote about him earlier and mentioned how close he felt to me and also to Otto. A man of above-average intellect, sharp and critical. His conflict was: Humanitarian ideals but a desire for great comfort. That explains his psychopathic conflict of always being tired and reluctant to work. In her old age his mother had a psychological disorder; all four sons died by suicide. (Figures 10a-b) [J]
Now it has been Ernst’s [Ernst Neisser] turn to supply his records. One never knows when the next step comes. Sooner or later one has to vacate the apartment and is evacuated, whether to the above-mentioned, small, enclosed city of Theresienstadt, to an old-age home, or even to Poland nobody knows. Usually there are no news from there; one does not know whether relatives are still alive or have died. So, one will always return to the question that I have discussed above: take the Veronal or not? The number of those who have nothing to expect from life grows.
September 7, 1942
For the first time since about a year we learned a little more about you through our friend [13]. She reports as follows: You have changed apartments. Do [Dorothee] has taken beautiful care of her garden and is very busy. The patients love her.
We always knew that she would make her way because of her love of people, her devotion to her profession and to her patients, and her incorruptible reliability. Such change of one’s life into another world must be hard to cope with, especially in the beginning. “Not all dreams come true” (“Nicht alle Bluetenträume reiften”) Thus we are especially grateful to her for becoming your loyal companion and probably helper in life. It was a great joy for us to hear about the content of this letter; if only such reports came more frequently! We are writing to Lu [14] to thank her.
September 8, 1942
I went to the post office today to mail the postcard to her and had to show my identification card (Adolf Jonas Israel G.).
September 19,1942
Day after day passes, and I don’t accomplish anything. However, this morning we unexpectedly received the order to complete our personal records. At the same time, we were given a number TH (Theresienstadt) N. 341/2. That means we will soon be evacuated to Theresienstadt. Thus, I won’t be likely to make many more entries in the diary. I will give Maria [Maria Wundsch] the two notebooks about my family, as I mentioned on pp. 1 and 2. Also, three notebooks of medical notes, bound in shiny paper. Perhaps No. 3 will be of use to both of you. In No. 2 I have made a list of new and suitable (sic) medicines that have come to my attention. Leaf through them; one or the other might be of use to you. In No. 1 I have written individual abstracts that are perhaps dated and antiquated but might contain this or that. In my father’s old album, I have extracted from Homer the words I didn’t know. To read it gave me great pleasure. The farther I got the better I retained the vocabulary that I used to know.
September 21, 1942
Today we received a postcard from Sweden, from Mrs. Elsa Meyring née Bauchwitz. (Figures 11a-b, 12a-b) [K] She is the only woman who several months ago was permitted to leave Poland, where she had been evacuated to from Stettin. She was taken in by friends in Stockholm. She hasn’t heard from Georg M. for a long time.
My edemas have decreased. I have requested an additional examination to see whether I am fit to be transported to Theresienstadt. The examinations are very strict; only severe cases are exempted. Therefore, I don’t doubt that I will have to go. If I could take my Veronal with me the decision would be easy. However, there are such strict regulations about what one is allowed to take along that, for me, the decision is very difficult. Only the bare necessities of life are allowed, and everything is examined. But so many old customs will have to be given up. Mutti tackles the job energetically, separating what is necessary for us from what others may be able to use. She is tirelessly busy and has new and good ideas that might be useful to others. She is of infinite kindness and she gives her time and effort to all who need it. When, unexpectedly, the news came that we had to fill out the first form, she turned deathly pale and covered with sweat as if she were to faint. But she was so composed and controlled that nobody could notice anything; she spoke calmly and amiably to the secretary, who plopped in as we had breakfast and who had to record our data. We then received a number: 341/2, which I already mentioned earlier. Many of our people already are in Theresienstadt, above all, I hope, Ellchen; certainly Dr. Gertrud Kant. [15] (Figure 13), plus her aunt by marriage, and a fair number of Posen and Breslau friends. I already mentioned that mail is prohibited; but occasionally the news has filtered through that, given the circumstances, life in that ghetto is tolerable. In Poland it is still as bad as it was when the Stettin people were the first to be transported there, even though the dreadful transport and other circumstances have somewhat improved. I often think what Männe [16] (Figure 14), my brother-in-law once wrote: “May you be spared such things!” In spite of his many faults and weaknesses he was always a kind person, with practical gifts and intelligence. I was greatly indebted to him in the beginning of my career because I had no talent to get started in life. He always gave me good advice, which I didn’t recognize until later. In later years our paths parted because he would not change any formerly acquired convictions. Complete integrity was his first priority.
Yesterday Maria [Maria Wundsch] was here for almost the entire day in order to help Mutti. She is the only person who has been of help and assistance to Mutti in our many moves: 1. From Stettin (Figures 15a-b) [L] to Hirschberg; 2. H(irschberg) move from No. 70 to No. 32; 3. From H. to Berlin-Kurfürstendamm; 4. from there to here; and 5. now for the evacuation. What a person! Other friends or relatives had failed us. Her convictions are strange, but one must respect her. Details of her religious point of view perhaps at some later time. Incomprehensible to me: even though she cannot adopt the Christian dogma, she nevertheless does not have to conform to certain rules of the Jewish religion, as for instance the total, 24-hour fasting on their highest holiday, Yom Kippur. So, she had come to discuss with Mutti how best to pack the modest number of authorized articles for the transport. We are allowed no more than 50 kg per person, i..e., one suitcase and a so-called bread bag—no back pack. Disallowed, among other things: watch, any glass or china (thus only a tin plate, a tin cup). Forbidden: fountain pen, knives of any kind! So, we are taking clothes and bed linens, toiletries, a heavy blanket and a pillow, plus provisions. Books are permitted. Money in the amount of 50 Mark for the trip is necessary. The rest of the money goes to the State and, to a certain extent, to the Jewish Cultural Community, so that it may be in a position to support any Jews without means who might still be in Germany. In my case, that is 25% of my assets, the rest goes to the German state. While writing this down any reasonable person will ask: is it still worthwhile to go on living, if one has a painless sleeping pill to go to sleep? Again and again the question is: Won’t this spook end soon and then there is hope for better days? The answer is very different for different people, depending on their disposition. An old gentleman of 87, completely fit and unmarried, departed from life voluntarily. He used to live in the room next to ours in our boarding house. He walked for hours each day, attended the theater and concerts surreptitiously (of course forbidden because he wore no David’s star at those times). When he recently learned he was to be evacuated, he said that he had nothing more to expect from life, since he had enjoyed many good things (travel, music) for many years. So, he took Veronal and was dead after a day-and-a-half. Another couple whom I mentioned above: he has two stiff legs and prostate trouble, she wears a pessary [M] that has to be changed every four weeks, has constipation which can only be relieved by very special, hard-to-obtain medicines, has a weak heart that is not strong enough without caffeine—they both want to see it through although they know that they can expect nothing from their sons. So, everybody struggles through to make his decision. The (Aryan) wife of our colleague and friend who lives in this house says she would not go along but put an end to it. Maria says: “By all means see it through, hide! Times change!” That requires substantial secret means (which we do not have), and one has to be younger so one can find suitable quarters by walking from place to place. Although we have seen others do it, it would be impossible for us to observe the various regulations—which you cannot know exactly—like ration cards (every little detail has been worked out; admirable how everything is organized in Germany), registration with the police including controls, etc.
Sunday, September 27, 1942
Our worries mount. Constant transports are taking the older people to Theresienstadt, the younger ones capable of work, to Poland. There living conditions are supposed to be much more disagreeable. Even so I vacillate back and forth whether I should go to Th. after all. Even transportation to the local collection center, where one is retained and checked for a few days, is unpleasant. You are driven there, with your hand luggage, in a moving van. There you get food, and there your luggage is examined. Very limited necessities of life are permitted. I just noticed I have already written about it. How best to pack everything takes, of course, a lot of deliberation. We will carry the hand luggage; the bags, containing bed linen and suits, go by rail. We have to leave the keys on the bags so what we take can be controlled. Whether everything will be there when we arrive is another question! Gradually I try to imagine such a life in Theresienstadt. We take only food and the most essential clothing and bed linens. A cot will presumably be provided. But of course, we are used to certain cultural needs which we cannot readily do without; I am thinking of cleaning the living quarters and the linens. Should one continue to live under constraint of limited freedom?
We have often pondered about why such cruel regulations have descended upon us. Although my knowledge of history is modest, I personally think that populations have been expatriated before. We have just not experienced it during the many years of peace we have just had. The 19th century was considered humanitarian! Only Russia was believed to have such conditions. In antiquity they were a matter of course. Augustus gave land in Italy to 20,000 legionnaires; of course, he had taken the land from others. Populations that were conquered were sold into slavery; see Carthage, which was flattened. How often did entire populations flee when the enemy arrived. Think only of ‘Hermann und Dorothea.’ The Salzburg people left because of their faith. But that the Jews of Germany are now expelled with practically no means and forced into other activities, that is a novelty.
September 29, 1942
Mutti has trouble with her teeth. A dentist, who is a relative [N], began to make her a new prosthesis. In the present circumstances it took approximately four weeks to make, during which time she had to chew without her lower teeth. The prothesis is still painful; more filing has to be done. I myself am fairly well-off health wise (heart and prostate) and I constantly gulp small quantities of Landiotrat. My ankle edemas are minimal, but my liver is enlarged by two finger-widths. I can feel it on one spot at the curve of the rib, and the colleague here in the house has confirmed it. I am particularly bothered by the cold, although from way back I have loved washing myself daily with cold water from head to toe. Nevertheless, at night my feet are ice-cold and don’t get warm until two or three hours later (in heavy bed slippers).
October 1, 1942
Now fate has caught up with Uncle Ernst [Ernst Neisser]. Yesterday afternoon he was informed that he was to be ready tomorrow morning from 8:00 a.m. on; he would be picked up and evacuated, together with his relative, Miss. Lise N. [O] (who has kept house for him). It is never divulged where they are going, probably somewhere in Bohemia. He had always been determined not to go; he wanted to end his life because of his more and more frequent and painful heart troubles that can only be interpreted as angina pectoris. Last night he had a long talk with Susel [17], whom he had notified, and he again expressed his reasons to her. Susel was just here, told us everything, and has gone to his apartment with Hans [18] and Mutti. Presumably he injected himself and Miss N. with morphine and took Veronal. Since it has been 15 hours since he took the medicines it can be assumed that the result will be absolutely fatal, and any revival, which everybody fears, is impossible.
Miss N. [Luise Neisser] had already died last night (Figures 16a-b), but Uncle Ernst had not. He was taken to the hospital (we may be taken only to the Jewish Hospital) [P] and was still alive this morning. He had injected himself with 2% morphine and taken 5 tablets of Veronal. Susel understands that her father could not act differently, and she is quite calm about his passing on. He was unusually gifted, with a streak of originality, full of ideas and able to pursue them. He was kind, charming, and understanding of the aspirations of others. Since his complaints increased with age and at 80 his stamina had decreased, he had the right to depart from life. Susel said his favorite activity had been to teach young physicians. He died on October 3, 1942. (Figures 17a-b) I shall copy the death notice later; I have to wait until the body is released for burial by the police.
In Frz. L’s [Franz Leonhard] library I found Waldeyer’s Memoirs, which were interesting reading. On the table of contents page, I have jotted down in pencil a few things that are of interest to us. The book will be at Maria’s as soon as I finish reading it. Amazing how much this man achieved, even though he is not counted among the elite of science, as for instance Virchow. His achievements can probably be explained by his organizational talents, his temperament and his eloquence. How he could teach anatomy to about 1000 students so that each could prepare everything is amazing.
We have received a letter from Elizabeth, written on September 24. We already knew you had moved to a new apartment, and that you are well. Keep it up! Of course, we understand that we cannot learn more. A birthday telegram in April from you to Mutti has not arrived.
Yesterday was the memorial service for Uncle Ernst. As Mutti reported it was very dignified through the music of a quartet, which at first . . .[sentence not finished]. We stayed together for a while: Susel and Hans, Uncle Willi [19] (Figure 18), Maria [Wundsch], Mutti and I. . . .(whom the family reached?). Such conversations in a restaurant, where everybody talks loudly and at the same time, now always depress me. I understand but little and become more and more melancholy. How often I then have the wish not to go on living! Therefore, nobody should reproach themselves that they could have made life more pleasant for me. It is in my own personality that I tend to be moody. Since I have nothing more to expect I would be content not to have to wake up again. I have lived a happy life, long united with Mutti, and I am eternally grateful to her, so my greatest worry is how to spare her these worrisome changes.
FROM HERE ON THE ENTRIES ARE IN PENCIL, FIRST IN A JITTERY HAND, LATER BECOMING FIRM AGAIN
On October 12 the Secret Police came. They immediately took our landlady and her family with them, we didn’t know why. Then they demanded our identity cards, took them and ordered us to Burgstrasse, Room No. 308 (that is the Secret Police). They also asked why we had not been evacuated. Generally, there is no release from there. Mutti had long wanted to write you a farewell letter and say a few things, I believe. But you know her kindness, her sincerity and her insights. She would not be able to add anything new. Remember that we always wanted your best, but that our lives are complete. We had imagined it all differently, but that was not to be. That Mutti could not have a beautiful service with music is very painful to me.
Life was happy and beautiful. . . .Vati (Dad)
SCRAWLED ACROSS THE NEXT TWO PAGES
On October 16 the . . . physician Dr. A. Guttentag died. (Figures 19a-b)
[15] Gertrud Kantorowicz, sister of Else Milch née Kantorowicz and Franz Kantorowicz, and daughter of Max Kantorowicz & Rosalinde Pauly; Franz Kantorowicz gave us the “Still Life” painting by Graf von Kalckreuth as a wedding gift
[16] Hermann “Männe” Rothholz, husband of Anna Pauly, one of the Pauly sisters; father of Walter Rothholz
[17] Suse Vogel née Neisser, daughter of Ernst Neisser and Margarethe Neisser née Pauly; Margarethe was one of the eight Pauly sisters
[18] Hans Vogel, Suse’s husband
[19] Willi Pauly, Helene Guttentag’s brother and the only boy among the nine children of Josef and Rosalie Pauly
MY FOOTNOTES (ALPHABETICAL)
[A] Kurfürstendamm is located in the Charlottenburg borough of Berlin
[B] Hirschberg im Riesengebirge, Germany [today: Jelenia Góra, Poland], approximately 250 miles south of Stettin where Adolf & Helene lived previously
[C] “E.u.Z,” may stand for “E. und (and) Z.,” possibly two different bacteria the urine is checked for; “E.” may be “Escherichia”
[D] as mentioned in Post 48, Jews were only allowed to buy food between the hours of 4 and 5pm
[E] former neighbors from Posen, Germany [today: Poznan, Poland]
[F] Else Milch née Kantorowicz, daughter of Max Kantorowicz & Rosalinde Pauly
[G] Lotte Mockrauer née Bruck, my great-aunt
[H]letters sent through the Red Cross during the war were limited to 25 words, but it appears longer letters could be written to their friend in Switzerland
[I] likely a barbiturate, a drug that acts as a central nervous system depressant, and can therefore produce a wide spectrum of effects, from mild sedation to death
[J] this fortunate reference to Franz Leonhard’s day of birth, September 6th, allowed me to locate his death certificate on ancestry.com; Franz was born on September 6, 1867 and died in Breslau on November 11, 1938. His death certificate mentions he indeed killed himself by taking sleeping tablets
[K] this reference to Mrs. Elsa Meyring née Bauchwitz, one of Adolf and Helene’s friends from Stettin, allowed me to locate her birth certificate, as well as her certificate of marriage to Theodor Meyring; ancestry.com indicates she indeed died in Sweden
[L] a 1935 Stettin Address Directory lists Dr. Adolf Guttentag, a specialist in stomach and intestinal diseases, having an office at Kaiser Wilhelmstraße 12; a photo of Adolf & Helene Guttentag, taken at Christmas 1938 (Figures 25a-b), shows them living nearby at Kaiser Wilhelmstraße 9, probably shortly before Adolf Guttentag retired at age 70 and the Guttentags relocated to Hirschberg
[N] this is wild conjecture on my part, but possibly the dentist, the family relative, who made Helene Guttentag’s prosthesis was my Uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck (see Post 31), who was still living and working in Berlin at the time until he went into hiding in October 1942 to avoid deportation
