REMARK: My apologies to readers who may have thought I too disappeared. I’ve spent the last few weeks updating my family tree on ancestry.com to better visualize my connection to people I’ve researched and written about. My tree is by no means comprehensive in terms of all the relatives I could conceivably include. The greatest pleasure I derive in having a tree, which numbers a modest 750 individuals, is attaching pictures or portraits of family, although it’s also a place where I can consolidate for easy retrieval all historic documents, information, stories and photographs related to those kinsmen. The tree also provides a visual cue on which branches of the family I’ve explored and where other intriguing stories may emanate from.
Note: This brief post is about Maria Pohlmann née Pauly, my great-great uncle and aunt Dr. Josef and Rosalie Pauly’s sixth-born daughter, and my frustration in being able to discover her fate even though she was married to a very public figure.
Regular readers are now reasonably well-versed in the fact that my great-great-uncle and aunt, Dr. Josef Pauly (Figure 1) and his wife Rosalie Pauly née Mockrauer (Figure 2), had nine children born between 1870 and 1885, eight of whom were daughters. I’ve systematically told their stories, sometimes in their own words, including relating the sad fate that befell some daughters, husbands and grandchildren at the hands of the National Socialists on account of their Jewish heritage. I’ve stressed the irony of this given that the paterfamilias Dr. Josef Pauly was brought up as a Protestant. Still, as students of history know only too well, Dr. Pauly’s surviving family members were deemed “racially Jewish” and targeted for extermination by the Nazis.
With the grateful assistance of one of Dr. Pauly’s great-grandchildren, the oft-mentioned Andi Pauly (Figure 3), I’ve worked out the fate of eight of Josef’s children. The only daughter whose destiny remains unknown is that of his sixth-born daughter, Maria Ulrike Pauly, born in 1877. (Figure 4) In this post I will share with readers the little I’ve been able to uncover about her, although most of what I’ve learned relates to her husband, Alexander “Axel” Pohlmann, a very public figure. As followers will read in the next post regarding Josef and Rosalie’s youngest daughter, Therese “Tussy” Pauly, I hope publication of this current post may provoke a response from a casual visitor that may shed light on Maria’s fate.
Among the family photos given to me by Andi Pauly are several of his great-aunt Maria where I judge she was between 17 and 24 years of age, pictured either at a large family gathering (Figure 5) or in the company of her parents and some of her siblings (Figures 6-7); from another source, I obtained the picture of Maria as a young girl. (Figure 4) Included among the pictures of Maria is one with her husband Alexander Pohlmann taken at their marriage, surrounded by the entire wedding party (Figure 8a-c); the marriage is incorrectly identified as having taken place in 1902, although I determined from the “Posen Einwohnermeldekarte,” Posen residential registration cards, they were actually wed on the 30th September 1901. (Figure 9) Along the margins of the wedding picture, many attendees were identified by name by Klaus Pauly, Andi Pauly’s father. The identifications, I later discovered, were provided by one of Maria Pohlmann née Pauly’s nieces, Susanne Vogel née Neisser. Given my intimate familiarity with the Pauly family tree, I was able to identify additional people by cross-referencing other photos given to me by Andi where some of the same people had been named.
In contrast to all of Josef and Rosalie Pauly’s other children, Andi was unable to provide any insights on what happened to his great-aunt Maria nor where she might have wound up. I was unable to discover a single reference to her on ancestry.com. I also checked the Yad Vashem Victims Database but, fortunately, there is no suggestion she was murdered in the Holocaust, unlike other members of her family.
Having failed to uncover direct evidence of Maria’s fate, I researched her husband. I knew his name from their wedding picture, as well as from information provided by Andi. I found German Address Book listings for Alexander Pohlmann when he lived both in Magdeburg (Figure 10) and Freiburg im Breisgau (Figure 11), and what I initially thought were listings for him in Berlin, but later discovered were a false trail. I did a Google query, and nothing materialized. In such instances, I often turn to Wikipedia.de, the German version, since many of the people I’m researching are of German origin. Information on Maria’s husband immediately surfaced.
Alexander Pohlmann, I learned had been a very public figure. He was born on the 10th September 1865 in the town of Graudenz, Prussia [today: Grudziądz, Poland], son of the Lord Mayor of that town. After graduating from school in Freiburg in Breisgau, he studied law and administrative sciences in Breslau, Leipzig, and Berlin. From 1896 until 1898 he worked in the city administration of Frankfurt on the Main, and then until 1903 as a full-time city councilman in Posen [today: Poznan, Poland], where he likely met Maria Pauly. Between 1903 and 1920, Alexander Pohlmann was the Oberbürgermeister, the Lord Mayor of Kattowitz, Prussia [today: Katowice, Poland], thus beginning shortly after his marriage to Maria in 1901.
From 1904 until about 1912, Pohlmann was a member of the Oberschlesischen Provinziallandtages, the Upper Silesian Provincial Assembly, then between 1912 and 1918, belonged to the Preußischen Abgeordnetenhaus, the Prussian Chamber of Deputies.
In November 1918, Alexander Pohlmann participated in the founding of the Deutsche Demokratische Partei (DDP) (Figures 12-13), the German Democratic Party, along with former leaders of the Progressive People’s Party to whom he’d belonged. The DDP was committed to maintaining a democratic republican form of government. Its base consisted of middle-class entrepreneurs, civil servants, teachers, scientists and craftsmen. It considered itself a decidedly nationalistic party that opposed the Treaty of Versailles, yet, understood the need for international collaboration and protection of ethnic minorities. The party was the one voted for by most Jews, and was, therefore, referred to as the “party of Jews and professors.”
In 1919-20, Pohlmann was a member of the Weimarer Nationalversammlung, the Weimar National Assembly, and from 1920 to 1922, a member of the Reichstagsabgeordneter, the Reichstag. After Upper Silesia was separated from Germany, Pohlmann lost his position in the Reichstag. Following his tenure as Lord Mayor of Kattowitz, until his retirement in 1930, Pohlmann was the Regierungspräsident des Regierungsbezirks Magdeburg, the President of the Government of Magdeburg in the German state of Saxony. Pohlmann passed away in 1952 in Freiburg im Breisgau (German state of Baden-Württemberg).
The only point in detailing Alexander Pohlmann’s governmental positions is to highlight the lengthy and very public nature of his career. For this reason, it seems odd no trace of his wife’s fate has so far come to light. Hoping to learn something about Maria via her husband, I contacted the Muzeum Historii Katowic, the Museum of History of Katowice, to inquire about her but the Museum could add nothing to what I already know. I await responses from both the State Archives in Katowice (Poland) and the State Archive Magdeburg (Germany) regarding any additional information they may have on Alexander Pohlmann, respectively his wife. Watch this space for future updates.
Note: In this post, I present some of my great-great-uncle Dr. Josef Pauly’s observations on his life and family. I also discuss the challenges of relating an ancestor’s story even when their written words are available.
Some years ago, my third cousin Andi Pauly sent me a 17-page memoir by Dr. Josef Pauly (Figure 1), his great-grandfather, written by his ancestor on his 25th wedding anniversary, the 8th of June 1894. Dr. Pauly’s reflections were neatly handwritten in German Kurrent (Figures 2a-b), an old form of German-language handwriting based on late medieval cursive writing, also known as Kurrentschrift. Given the fact that many modern-day Germans can’t even read this old script, I had scant hope I would learn what Dr. Pauly had to say about his life and family.
Still, as regular readers know, I’ve learned never to say “never” as, occasionally, an unexpected opportunity presents itself to further my ancestral research. In previous posts, I’ve mentioned Mr. Paul Newerla, my elderly Polish friend from Racibórz, Poland, the town where my father was born when Upper Silesia was still German (Figure 3); Paul first contacted me through my Blog and has been enormously generous in sharing documents, maps, and photographs and educating me about the history of Silesia, a topic on which he’s an expert. Knowing Paul is fluent in German, I became curious whether Dr. Pauly’s handwriting was even legible, so I sent him the first two pages of the document asking whether he could decipher them. Paul returned a German transcription of these pages, telling me the text was quite readable but was deeply philosophical and not easily translated (Paul does not speak English). With great hesitancy, I asked Paul whether he’d be willing to transcribe the entire 17 pages of Dr. Pauly’s memoirs, and he graciously agreed to do this. I will readily admit to readers that, at times, I’m unabashedly shameless when it comes to requesting help with transcriptions or translations. The result was a neatly typed German transcription. Notwithstanding Paul’s admonition that the memoirs were profound, I naively assumed I could get the gist of them using Google Translate; suffice it to say, this was not the case.
Realizing I was part way to understanding what Dr. Pauly had written, I next brazenly approached my distant cousin, Ronny Bruck (Figure 4), asking whether he could translate the typed transcription into English. Much to his regret, he agreed to my request and some weeks later, after many late evenings and much agonizing, Ronny produced the translation I present below, promising never again to undertake such a difficult translation.
It goes without saying that without Paul and Ronny’s gracious and generous assistance, this post would not be possible. I was interested in a translation of Dr. Pauly’s memoirs for what he might have to say about his family. While the memoir told me told me less about Dr. Pauly’s kin than I’d hoped, it revealed a lot about his personal character and human values he esteemed.
I’ve tightened up the English reading of my cousin Ronny’s translation; my friend Paul’s transcription is included here for any German readers who wish to determine whether I’ve done justice to Dr. Pauly’s original remarks. I’ve taken some liberties conveying what Dr. Pauly may have been trying to communicate; I acknowledge I may have misinterpreted the meaning of certain colloquialisms.
Given my familiarity with Dr. Pauly’s lineage, I was not only able to identify all the family members he mentioned by name, but I was also able to find pictures or portraits of all of them. Dr. Pauly’s words are included in their entirety below in Italics, with some capitalized identifications in brackets. There are a few breaks in the italicized text where I provide some brief commentary, although for the most part Dr. Pauly’s words speak for themselves.
On Dr. Josef Pauly’s 25th wedding anniversary on 8th June 1894, he delivered prepared remarks to his gathered friends and family. In 1916, one of his daughters, Helene Guttentag née Pauly (Figure 5), resurrected his comments from 22 years earlier for the first Christmas family gathering following Josef Pauly’s death the previous month.
Memories of our father Dr. Josef Pauly Born: 10th August 1843 in Tost, Germany [today: Toszek, Poland] Died: 7th November 1916 in Posen, Germany [today: Poznan, Poland]
a sisterly greeting Christmas 1916 from Helene Guttentag née Pauly
Written by Josef Pauly
On our silver wedding anniversary on the 8th of June 1894
Festive days in the family, especially those we celebrate in the autumn of our lives, give reason for backward contemplation, and then you thankfully wonder how everything began. I am thinking of my parents’ home in the little Upper Silesian village [TOST, GERMANY, Figure 3]. There life was given to me, there I saw the father [DR. ZADIG PAULY, Figure 6] whom I am similar to in disposition, even though I consider him morally superior to me. There was also the temperamental and undemanding and imaginative mother [ANTONIE MARLE, Figure 7]. Both were in truth assiduous in nature. From there, from the house of my step-great aunt [THERESE GRÄTZER NÉE MOCKRAUER, Figures 8a-b], separated at an early age from my good father, I got my wife. Religious feelings, sympathy for Catholicism, poetry and romance, and finally for the monarchy, all come from the family home and the Upper Silesian village.
Dr. Pauly was clearly raised Catholic, so the irony that multiple of his “racially Jewish” daughters, sons-in-law, and grandchildren, whom I’ve written about in earlier Blog posts, were murdered or committed suicide during the Nazi era is not lost on me. Josef’s reference to Therese Grätzer née Mockrauer as his “step-great aunt” is puzzling since my knowledge of the Pauly lineage suggests she was a full-fledged great-aunt.
I left my parents’ home at the age of 9 ½, too early for such an impressionable one. After an unhappy, unmonitored youth and high school days, I also came too early to the University of Breslau, and, later, after a few semesters, to the military academy in Berlin. The latter, however, was my luck. It was an encouragement for my fantastic nature. Thankfully I remember my teachers, especially Traubes. The bedside, not science, healed me of confusion. I lacked the peace, rules and concentration to be truly scientific in nature. Fresh from my exams, I went to war via Glatz [GLATZ, GERMANY, Figure 3]. A certain demeanor, brashness, and good nature made me useful in the various circumstances of life; but irritable to the point of exaltation, I did not find mental and physical security until I got married. This was luck again. I have three persons to thank besides God: my wife [ROSALIE PAULY NÉE MOCKRAUER, Figure 9]; her guardian and uncle Geheimrat Grätzer [PRIVY COUNCILLOR DR. MED. JONAS GRÄTZER, Figure 10], whose personality seems more and more respectable to me the older I get, because he has always proven himself wise and honorable; and, professor W.A. Freund [DR. WILHELM ALEXANDER FREUND, Figure 11] from Strassburg [STRASBOURG, FRANCE], who was intellectually far superior to me, the doctor of my body and soul, the latter more valuable.
Josef Pauly left home as a lad and attended the University of Breslau when he was still young, suggesting he was very precocious. He ultimately turned what he characterized as unhappy days to his advantage after his time in a Berlin military academy and the army.
Josef identifies the three most influential people in his life, including his wife and her uncle, whom he refers to only as “Geheimrat Grätzer.” I discovered I had his portrait before learning his full name, Privy Councillor Dr. Med. Jonas Grätzer. Use of the term “Geheimrat” was confusing. I was initially under the impression that it referred to a trusted advisor, perhaps in a governmental position, until Andi Pauly explained that it is an abbreviation for “Geheimer Sanitätsrat,” a honorary title for merited doctors in Prussia.
One of Josef’s professors and mentors was a well-known German gynecologist, Dr. Wilhelm Alexander Freund (1833-1917), who earned his degree at the University of Breslau, and afterwards practiced gynecology in the same city. In 1879 he relocated to Strasbourg, France, where he served as a professor of gynecology and obstetrics.
In 1868, I came to Posen, and in 1869 I got married. All the other things you know already, partly from us, partly from uncle Max [MAX KANTOROWICZ, Figure 12] and aunt Rosa [ROSALINDE PAULY, Figure 13], and partly because you have experienced it. You will agree, if I confess gratefully, that until now the good has prevailed, luck was not lacking. Illness and errors have been overcome as far as possible, good will better than one dared hope for. Distress has never knocked on our door, and, so, I would like to say the following as my confession today:
I believe in God as the creative force of the universe, in an immanent consciousness, in a moral world order; to the invisible God of the world, as first revealed by the Jewish religion, whose goodness is identical with the eternal laws.
I believe that human nature has a propensity for evil and an instinct for good, that it is up to education and the family to lead the latter to victory over the former, so the conscience prevails.
I consider the family to be the natural group in the necessary struggle for existence, which must co-exist however different their civic designs are.
I think parents are the first officials of the family. Everything that man possesses is entrusted to him for administration.
Death is a necessity; suicide is a mortal sin, more seldomly a disease.
I don´t think the earth is a vale of tears but a workplace with occasional and not too abundant leisure, and I don´t think people are angels, however, amongst a few there is no good to be found. A statistic of the good qualities of men would give salvation. I firmly believe, given the enormous capacity of human nature to develop and adapt, that good can be developed through favorable influences. Distress, illness and misery can democratize people. I think it is my duty and that of every wealthy person that they help alleviate these social difficulties, which have been exacerbated by modern conditions, and I measure my respect for rich people according to how much of their wealth they give away to others.
I believe everything has its history, and that being aware that one is living in a certain time is important. I believe that nothing is lost in this world, and that humanity progresses slowly in a zigzagging way. I strive out of war and storm to hear the sounds of peace and recovery from sickness and madness. I try to understand the tasks of the present time with my weak power of insight, and understand it as follows: the current education is real, you must protect the body and the soul. One directs the child’s gaze towards nature; one teaches not only beauty but also lawfulness; one must fill children’s souls with the joy that in toto there exists a body of goodness for everybody. But because everything that a man does is buried in the tablets of his brain, and because one’s own ego only feels at ease in the coexistence of another man’s ego, one must exercise the power of self-control and the power to forget oneself. For that is and remains the greatest glory for man: respect for the connection with the whole. Therefore, the highest pleasure of serving the whole is forgetting oneself.
Whether you conceive of man as a single entity or view body and mind separately is immaterial to me. The individual is the soulful body with natural necessity and happiness. One must differentiate between higher and lower impulses; culture is based on controlling baser impulses to have them serve the greater good.
Between the individual’s own ego and the other’s ego, the individual man steers his frail boat; even though the urge may be dark, man is always conscious of the right path.
I consider work to be the most important part of oneself. Self-knowledge and self-criticism are paramount. Every person can learn it, it does not help to lie to yourself.
It’s wrong to accept one’s innate temperament. Just as a sculptor chisels the hard marble, everyone must form his own temperament. This is not the realm of education but rather religion. It can be awakened in every human being. Within the family dissolves the contrast between one’s necessary selfishness and the necessary sublimation of one’s interest. Just as a mother’s love is the highest revelation (epiphany) of nature so is the love between relatives the highest of culture. When I personally experience the good that happens to my brother or sister, that sensation satisfies me, so I am a happy and fulfilled person.
The parents, whose children have such a prevailing attitude, don´t believe this is rare. You know about the three sisters who renounced their own ambitions for the sake of their brother’s study [WILHELM PAULY, Figure 14]. The beautiful fire of such a sacrifice raises the hearth of the family like an inviolable sanctuary. Such an attitude can be educational, if one is honest. How terrible it would be if every intemperate remark uttered within the family went unpunished, so that instead of contributing to the greater good, personal considerations and selfishness prevailed, rather than striving to do right by one’s blood relatives in material and non-material ways.
Here, Dr. Josef Pauly highlights the sacrifice that three of his unnamed daughters made for the benefit of the only one of his nine children who was a male, namely, Wilhelm Pauly. For Josef, renouncing personal aspirations for the benefit of family exemplified the most high-minded ideal.
In a thoughtful bourgeois family, the older sister who raises her brother seeks to influence the younger sibling spiritually as a matter of course. This duty, which is not difficult to practice and understand, creates the most beautiful and secure relationship.
“What you have inherited from your fathers, acquire it to own it.”
Ennoble the blood relationship by making a sacrifice for the other, strive for spiritual influence on one another, then you will be closer together and you will permanently ally yourselves.
I hear only partially this sentiment at this social event which you have dedicated to us today. With gratitude to the Almighty, I see you all gathered here, blood relatives by birth and by fortune; many but not excellently talented, but all sufficiently gifted for the good and simple.
And so I should like to hear, above all else, a quiet vow from this event, of humor and casual mood, that you want to be mindful not only of the vicissitudes of life, but also in everyday life by the commitment placed on you by God and nature which the dying Johannis and his great interpreter Gotthold Ephraim Lessing [Figure 15] summed up in the words:
“Children, love each other with that pure love which is a ray of God´s love”
Given the moral turpitude I see among some of my contemporaries, I find great comfort in reminding myself this was not always so. Many of Dr. Josef Pauly’s words and beliefs resonate with me though I recognize his values are not always congruent with my own nor relevant to the modern age. Despite the steps involved in bringing Dr. Josef’s words to light, first transcribing the German text, then translating them into English, and finally rewriting his words to try and capture their “true” meaning, highlights the challenge a biographer faces even when the subject’s own words are available to them. Still, where a subject’s words are available, it is preferable to presenting them to readers even if in a slightly distorted manner and even if the meaning is not always entirely obvious.
Note: In this post, I describe a recent contact I had with a reader of my Blog who was able to partially answer the question of whether the German government ever paid restitution to the heirs of the Woinowitz sugar plant for the forced sale of the factory by the Nazis during the 1930’s. I also discuss some of what I’ve learned about the heirs, detail some of the documentary evidence I’ve uncovered, and raise new questions now that earlier ones have been answered.
When I launched my family history Blog two years ago, I expressed hope readers would contact me with information about people and topics I would write about over time and/or establish ancestral connections between our families based on these accounts. This has happened on various occasions, and this Blog post is about one such encounter. It is a particularly satisfying story because it relates to several earlier posts, resolves a few mysteries I was never previously able to unravel, and establishes connections between events and people I earlier viewed as unrelated. Yet, like the Lernaean Hydra, one question gets answered and two “grow” in its place.
This story really begins when I was a youth. My father, Dr. Otto Bruck (Figure 1), came to America in 1948, at the age of 41. He never again worked as a dentist because the American authorities wanted him to completely reestablish his dental credentials, something he felt he was too old to do. Instead, he went to work for one of his cousins, Franz Kayser (1897-1983) (Figure 2), who ran an import business. When this cousin’s wife left him and got remarried with Curt L. Sterner, who similarly ran an import business, my father became part of the “package.” For the remainder of his working days, my father worked for Mr. Sterner.
Both Franz Kayser and Curt Sterner were Jewish and escaped Nazi Germany, as did Mrs. Catherine “Ulrike” Sterner (1908-2005) (Figure 3), the former Mrs. Kayser, also German though not Jewish. Growing up, my family would occasionally socialize with Mr. and Mrs. Sterner. On various occasions over the years, Ulrike would tell the story of her first husband’s uncle who had refused the Nazis offer to leave Germany in the 1930’s with 80 percent of his wealth intact. This was contrary to Ulrike’s advice, which was rejected on account of her juvenescence and presumed naivety. She maintained the uncle and his family could have lived very comfortably on the remaining money. Instead, he wound up committing suicide when it was no longer possible for German Jews to leave, with or without their money. Whether Ulrike ever mentioned this uncle’s name, I can’t recall.
Ulrike and Franz Kayser had one son together, John Kayser. (Figure 4) Ulrike was prescient and could see what awaited Jews who stayed in Germany. She traveled to England to give birth to John in 1938 so that he would have a British passport; while the family briefly returned to Berlin following John’s birth, they quickly fled to America after Kristallnacht. John and I are third cousins, and he provided the name of his father’s uncle, Dr. Erich Schück, Uncle Schück as he was familiarly known. (Figure 5)
Fast forward. Through my Blog, I recently received an email from a gentleman in Denmark, Mr. Allan Grutt Hansen. (Figure 6) He explained that his great-aunt, his grandmother’s sister that is, Hedwig Schück née Jendricke, had been married to Dr. Erich Schück. I have Dr. Schück in my family tree, though I never knew he’d been married. While this obviously expands my family tree, I was more interested in what it might reveal about the Schücks who once co-owned the Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik outside Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland] that I wrote about in Post 36.
Mr. Hansen is an avid genealogist and visits places associated with his family in Germany and Poland. This year he and his wife visited Upper Silesia, including Ratibor. As he’s done in the past, he did an Internet query on the still-standing Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik (Figure 7) outside Ratibor before his trip but, unlike earlier searches, this time landed upon my recent Blog post on the subject. Ergo, his email to me. As an aside, I learned, to my pleasure, that Allan used my Blog posts as a guide to some places he visited in Silesia.
In Post 36, I explained that Dr. Erich Schück’s father, Adolph Schück (Figure 8), had been partners with one of his brothers-in-law, Sigmund Hirsch, in the Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik; I’m unsure whether they were equal partners. Adolph died in 1916 and seemingly his shares passed into the hands of his three children, including his only son Erich. It’s unclear who inherited Sigmund’s stake in the business when he died in 1920, although it’s likely his two married daughters, Henrietta and Helene Hirsch (Figure 9), did. Though the factory was shuttered sometime in the 1920’s for economic reasons, the families retained ownership. To remind readers, I was never previously able to resolve the question of whether the Schück and Hirsch families were compensated by the German government for the sale or confiscation of the property after the Nazis came to power in 1933. My friend Mr. Paul Newerla (Figure 10), Silesian historian, however, affirmed that during his days working as an attorney he transacted a legal sale of the sugar factory from rightful owners. This is where things stood until I was contacted by Mr. Allan Grutt Hansen from Denmark.
Allan was not only able to answer the question of German restitution, but he provided documentation on how monies were meted out to his ancestors; he sent me the eight pages of the restitution agreement, naturally in German, detailing how his branch of the family was indemnified for sale of the sugar factory. There are specifics I’m still trying to understand and additional records I’m currently working to obtain, but the broad outline is becoming clearer.
The written materials Allan sent me deals only with the one-sixth of the estate involving his ancestors. The West German government ostensibly compensated all eligible heirs in 1966 for the forced sale of the sugar factory in September 1936. If my understanding is accurate, compensation paid out in 1966 was based on what the factory would have sold for in 1936 had the sale been voluntary. It appears the value of the factory in 1936 was estimated in 1966 to have been about 450,000 Reichsmark (RM) (i.e., in January 2017, a 1937 Reichsmark would have been worth approximately $4.30). This figure was divided into six equal shares of 75,000 RM, which likely represented the number of eligible heirs and/or “estates.” (Figures 11a-b)
This figure was “adjusted” upward in 1966 by multiplying the 75,000 RM by 1.9 “boosting” the value of Dr. Erich Schück’s shares to 142,500 RM; perhaps this was done to offset the ridiculously high “wealth tax” assessed in 1936 by the Nazis that reduced the amount he actually received. However, Dr. Schück’s heirs only reaped 2,500 RM in 1966 because 140,000 RM had already been disbursed in 1936. (Figure 11c) This only makes sense to me if Erich was the only heir to receive monies from sale of the sugar plant in 1936. If so, the West German government may have attempted to rectify this “oversight” in 1966 by paying out equal portions of 142,500 RM to each of the five other heirs or their descendants. Until the complete restitution package is in hand, it’s unknown how much was paid out in 1936 and to whom, and how much in 1966 and again to whom. Watch this space for further explanation.
Examining the documentation provided by Allan Grutt Hansen, formal compensation proceedings were apparently initiated in the early 1960’s in Hansestadt Lübeck (Figure 11a), the Hanseatic city of Lübeck, in the northern German state of Schleswig-Holstein. Hedwig Schück was probably no longer alive at the time, having passed away on the 9th of June 1960, at a then-undetermined location. I’ve already told readers Dr. Erich Schück committed suicide, place and date also then-undetermined. I’ll discuss below how details in the restitution package allowed me to track down the place they died, and, in the case of Dr. Schück, the year he died.
The documentation on the one-sixth of the compensation doled out to Allan’s family lists by name all the heirs and their shares. These included: Anna Johannsen née Brügge (1/12th share); Sophie Dalstrand née Brügge (1/12th share); Christian Brügge (1/24th share); and Helmuth Brügge (1/24th share). (Figure 11d) Let me briefly explain how these people are related to Dr. Erich Schück.
As previously mentioned, Dr. Erich Schück was married to Hedwig Schück née Jendricke. Hedwig’s mother, Anna Pelagia Jendricke (1873-1953), had her out-of-wedlock in 1889 when she was only 16 years old. Possibly, because the family came from a small town in Poland, Gołańcz, with conservative values they pretended Hedwig was Anna’s sister rather than her illegitimate daughter, thus the maiden name “Jendricke.” Anna would eventually get married to a Christian Brügge (1853-1926) with whom she had four additional children. (Figure 12)
In any case, Anna Johannsen and Sophie Dalstrand were sisters-in-law of Dr. Erich Schück, while Christian and Helmuth Brügge were two of his nephews. All four of Dr. Schück’s heirs were related through marriage to Hedwig Schück née Jendricke.
Allan provided some historical background to clarify where his Brügge and Jendricke lineages came from and how, after WWI, geo-political factors influenced why the Brügges wound up in Denmark and the Jendrickes ended up in Germany. This is important for understanding why some members of Allan’s family were so German-minded, and how it influenced their actions during WWII. I’ll return to this shortly. While not directly relevant to restitution for the forced sale of the Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik, it establishes some context for understanding the present-day borders of Denmark, Germany, and Poland, and by extension other European countries. (Figure 13)
Allan’s Brügge ancestors come from the Danish-German border region of Schleswig, divided today between Germany and Denmark. His Jendricke family comes from the Polish-German border region of western Poland. Schleswig was originally entirely Danish, while western Poland was Polish, but after several hundred years of German influence and pressure from German authorities in both areas, western Poland (as well as northern Poland) and southern Denmark became German. A war was fought between the Danes and the Germans in 1864 when the Danish government sought to reunite the whole of Schleswig under Danish control; the Danes were defeated and wound up losing 40 percent of their land and population. Denmark only recovered the northern half of Schleswig in 1920 following a plebiscite asking the residents whether they wanted to be Danish or German.
In the 1890’s, Allan’s Danish-minded great-grandfather, Christian Brügge (1853-1926) (Figure 14) apparently traveled to western Poland and found his wife, Anna Pelagia née Jendricke, in Gołańcz, Poland; they settled in Flensburg in south Schleswig, which today is in Germany, on the German-Danish border. When south Schleswig was not restored to Denmark in 1920 (Figure 15), Christian Brügge immediately moved his family to Copenhagen in Denmark. Allan’s great-grandfather wrote an article for a Flensburg newspaper promising to return once south Schleswig again became part of Denmark. It never has.
Western and northern Poland had already been incorporated into German Prussia, when Prussia, Austro-Hungary and Russia divided the rest of Poland among them, and Poland ceased to exist for 123 years between 1796 and 1919. Following WWI, between 1919 until 1939, Poland regained its independence until Hitler and Stalin started WWII by again dividing Poland. Following the war, Poland never regained its eastern half (now a part of Belarus and Ukraine), and instead Poland was “parallel-shifted” westward, and Poland was compensated by regaining western and northern Poland. This redrawing of the map resulted in 7 million Poles being deported from the former eastern part of Poland to western and northern Poland, and 12 million Germans from the latter areas being deported to Germany. This was ethnic cleansing on a massive scale.
Let’s return to the story of the Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik. According to Allan, Lübeck, where compensation proceedings were initiated, may not have been an accidental location. Let me explain and tell readers at the outset this involves “skeletons in the closet,” so to speak. Anna “Anni” Johannsen née Brügge, who received 1/12th of the compensation that was meted out in 1966, was married to a Bende Johannsen. (Figure 16) Because both were German-minded and eager to make Denmark German, they supported the Nazis. They worked at the Gestapo headquarters in Copenhagen during WWII, a place called the “Shell House” because it had been confiscated from Shell Corporation during the war. Anni translated forced confessions from captured Danish freedom fighters, while her husband worked in an administrative position. While neither was ever convicted of directly torturing or killing anyone, Anni as a German citizen was expelled from Denmark after the war, and her Danish husband Bende left with her, with both eventually settling in the Holstein-Oldenburg- Lübeck area, in a town called Neustadt. If Anni initiated the compensation proceedings after her sister’s death in 1960, as seems likely, this may explain why it was handled by the “Landesrat Oldenburg (Holstein).” Regardless, it’s an irony the ardent Nazi Anni benefited from the expropriation of the Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik.
Regular readers know I always try to track down historic documents to bolster my account of events. Immediately after establishing contact with Allan, I asked him for a picture of his great-aunt Hedwig and vital data about her. I quickly learned he had no photos of her, no idea where she’d died, and no letters or personal papers belonging to her; if Hedwig maintained a relationship with her mother and half-siblings, it appears it was at best a casual one. My question, however, prompted Allan to re-examine the compensation documents, and there he discovered Hedwig had lived on one of the poshest streets in Berlin.
In Post 49, I described to readers how to use the challenging Landesarchiv Berlin database to search for vital records, and the importance of knowing which of Berlin’s 12 boroughs a vital event took place. In the absence of knowing for certain which borough an event took place, I ALWAYS begin by looking at records for the well-heeled borough of Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf, where virtually all my Jewish ancestors lived and/or worked. Knowing the exact date Hedwig Schück died and knowing she had lived in a “posh” Berlin district, I used this same approach, and lo-and-behold, I discovered her name in the Wilmersdorf death register listing for the year 1960. (Figures 17a-b)
The search for her husband Dr. Erich Schück was more challenging since I had no idea when or where he’d killed himself. John Kayser, Erich’s grandnephew, assumed he’d died in Ratibor, while I’d always assumed, he’d committed suicide in Berlin. Knowing from the restitution file the Nazis had forced the sale of the Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik in 1936, I could see no reason why Erich would have stayed in Ratibor following the sale of the sugar plant. Most of my relatives, living in smaller communities, who lost their positions or businesses in such places after the Nazis came to power, quickly moved to Berlin; there, at least for a time, they could get “lost” in the relative anonymity of a larger city. Both my father and uncle relocated to Berlin from smaller towns after they lost their dental practices during the 1930’s.
I began by searching for Dr. Erich Schück in ancestry.com, and was rewarded by finding him listed in three Berlin Address Books, respectively, for 1936, 1937 and 1938, living at Landhausstrasse 37 in the Wilmersdorf borough of Berlin (Figure 18); the 1936 Address Book also lists a “Frau Dr. Schück,” Erich’s wife, living at the same address. I did not find him listed in any Berlin directories after 1938 but didn’t automatically assume he’d died that year. Most of my Jewish ancestors living in Berlin told to report for deportation were ordered to do so in 1942 and killed themselves that year.
Having narrowed Dr. Schück’s residence to Berlin-Wilmersdorf in 1938, I began scouring the Landesarchiv Berlin death listings for that borough from that year forward; in short order, I discovered his name in the 1938 register. The only surprise is while I’d been told by family that he was a medical doctor, I discovered he was actually a “Dr. jur.,” Doctor juris. (Figures 19a-b)
Now knowing both Dr. Schück and his wife died in Berlin, I’ve requested copies of their death certificates from the Landesarchiv Berlin. They currently have a several month-long backlog so it will be some time before I can report to readers any new information these documents may contain.
I also searched Dr. Schück’s wife in ancestry.com. I found a “Heddy Schück” listed in a 1954 Berlin Phone Directory living at “Fasanenstrasse 38, Charlottenburg” (Figure 20), which matched her address in the compensation package. Reminded that Hedwig was listed as “Heddy,” Allan’s mother later recalled that she in fact went by this diminutive.
Readers will correctly surmise that my conversation with Allan Grutt Hansen has partially answered the question of whether the Schück family was compensated for the forced sale of the sugar factory located in Woinowitz. But, like the Hydra of mythological renown, I may have raised several new questions for the one I’ve answered, namely, who, if anyone beyond Dr. Schück, received monies paid out in 1936; who initiated the compensation proceedings in the 1960’s; and which heirs were indemnified in 1966? There may be other new questions based on the answers to the ones enumerated. Because the restitution was only resolved in 1966, it’s possible that Germany’s privacy laws may prevent release of the complete compensation package for many years to come. Time will tell.
Note: In this post, I discuss Wilhelm Pauly, the only son of Josef and Rosalie Pauly. The account of his survival during WWII provides some insight into the relationship between Germans of Jewish heritage and the German nation.
I’ve recently been writing about the fate of some of my great-great-uncle and aunt Josef Pauly and Rosalie Pauly née Mockrauer’s nine children, several of whom were victims of the Holocaust. Their only son, Wilhelm “Willy” Pauly (Figure 1), eighth born, survived the war and I became curious how he managed this. I asked one of his grandchildren, Andi Pauly, whose name readers may recall, and his response led in an unexpected direction.
Willy Pauly (Figure 2) was a trained agronomist, and a veteran of WWI. Apparently, when it became clear his Jewish ancestry might eventually lead to his deportation to a concentration camp, he sought the help of his military comrades from WWI; they were instrumental in having him assigned to an agricultural research facility near the small town of Felgentreu, 34 miles SW of Berlin, that for inexplicable reasons was off-limits to the Gestapo.
Felgentreu (Figure 3) is only a short distance northwest of the military training ground once located at Jüterbog, referred to in German as Truppenübungsplatz Jüterborg. Beginning in the 1860’s, the German military began acquiring property around Jüterbog so that by the 1930’s this was the largest military training facility in Germany, more than 27,000 acres in size. By 1936, most inhabitants of Felgentreu had been displaced by the military facility and forced to relinquish their homes. Following the reunification of Germany in 1989, this military training ground, which had been used by the Soviet and German militaries after WWII, was converted to civilian use. Today, it is a nature reserve, although contaminated remains abound.
Whether the intercession of Willy Pauly’s military colleagues was enough to have him stationed in Felgentreu is unclear. It was suggested that a man named Erhard Milch may also have played a role in protecting Willy Pauly. Suffice it for now to say the Pauly and Milch families are related by marriage, a topic I’ll return to below. However, the mention of Erhard Milch’s name is where this story takes an unexpected twist.
Erhard Milch (Figure 4), I learned, was a German field marshal who oversaw the development of the Luftwaffe as part of the re-armament of Nazi Germany following WWI. He was supposedly the son of Anton Milch, a Jewish pharmacist, and a Clara Milch née Vetter, and was investigated in 1935 by the Gestapo on account of his Jewish heritage. When Hermann Wilhelm Göring, who was Erhard Milch’s mentor and personal friend, got wind of this ongoing investigation, he put a halt to it; Göring produced a signed affidavit he’d apparently forced Milch’s mother to sign stating that his actual father was her uncle, making her guilty of adultery and incest.
Regardless, with the signed affidavit in hand Hitler then issued Milch a “German Blood Certificate” (German: Deutschblütigkeitserklärung). Basically, this was a document provided by Hitler to people with partial Jewish heritage, termed Mischlinge, declaring them deutschblütig, of German blood, and exempting them from most of Germany’s racial laws. Such events were apparently the backdrop for Göring’s cynical claim, “I decide who is a Jew.” Though widely attributed to him, the statement apparently originated with Karl Lueger (Figure 5), Mayor of Vienna, Austria from 1897 until his death in 1910. Karl Lueger, founder of Austria’s Christian Social Party, exploited prevalent antisemitic and nationalistic currents for political gain. This is particularly interesting because Hitler moved to Vienna in 1908 when Lueger was at the apex of his power there; Hitler clearly approved of Lueger’s methods and praised his charisma and popular appeal in Mein Kampf and elsewhere. Some claim the populist and antisemitic politics of Lueger’s Christian Social Party were the model for Adolf Hitler’s Nazism, though their brands of anti-Semitism differed.
In any case, the issue of Jews serving in the German military during the Nazi era is what I found intriguing. I discovered a 2002 book on the subject by Cambridge University researcher Bryan Mark Rigg, entitled “Hitler’s Jewish Soldiers, the Untold Story of Nazi Racial Laws and Men of Jewish Descent in the German Military.” Rigg’s book was the first study of its kind to document the history of Jews and Mischlinge who fought in the German armed forces during WWII, a number estimated to have been as high as 150,000 that included more than 1,200 officers; the author provides demonstrable evidence that Hitler played a central role in allowing Mischlinge to serve in the armed forces. The “half-Jew” Field Marshall Erhard Milch was the highest-ranking officer found to be of Jewish parentage.
Willy Pauly may also have wanted his two sons, Klaus and Peter (Figure 6), to pursue a military career to increase their odds of survival and facilitate upward mobility. According to a story Andi’s father told him, Willy enrolled his two sons in an elite military training school in Potsdam, a town bordering Berlin. When Hitler came to power, the school was transformed into a “NaPolA,” Nationalpolitische Erziehungsanstalten, officially abbreviated NPEA, or a National Political Institute of Education, a secondary boarding school for the elite in Nazi Germany. Students were required to provide proof of their Aryan descent, something Willy could not provide for his sons, so both were forced to leave the academy. Interestingly, they ended up in a boarding school in Niesky, Germany, which was run by the Herrnhuter Brüdergemeinde, a Christian fraternity.
Some brief history. The Nuremberg Laws of 1935 were the anti-Semitic laws introduced in Germany following the takeover of power by Hitler in 1933. It defined a “Jew” not as someone with specific religious beliefs but, instead, as anyone with three or four Jewish grandparents regardless of whether the person self-identified as a Jew or belonged to the Jewish religious community. Germans who had long ago given up practicing Judaism or converted, or even those whose grandparents had converted to Christianity, were nonetheless “racially” categorized as Jewish and victimized by the Nazis. Two additional “racial” categories were created with the passage of the Nuremberg Laws: the “half-Jew” (Jewish Mischling first degree), and the “quarter-Jew” (Jewish Mischling second degree); a half-Jew had two Jewish grandparents, and a quarter-Jew one.
The sudden grouping of Mischlinge with Jews, seemingly, should have created a bond and mutual sympathy. It did not. Most Mischlinge did not consider themselves to be Jewish, and many had grown up as baptized Christians. And, in some cases, the Mischlinge were themselves deeply anti-Semitic. Ethnically, Mischlinge thought of themselves as Germans based on their language, their culture, and their schooling which had all been in German. Speaking to this issue, Bryan Rigg quotes from a letter written in 1940 by the “half-Jew,” Unteroffizier (Sergeant or Staff Sergeant) W. Dieter Bergman (Figure 7), to his Jewish grandmother, Elly Landsberg née Mockrauer, interestingly one of my relatives:
“Don’t you realize how much I’m with my whole being rooted in Germany. My life would be very sad without my homeland, without the wonderful German art, without the belief in Germany’s powerful past and the powerful future that awaits Germany. Do you think that I can tear that all out of my heart?. . .Don’t I also have an obligation to my parents, to my brother who showed his love to our Fatherland by dying a hero’s death on the battlefield. . .Someday, I want to be a German amongst Germans and no longer a second-class citizen only because my wonderful mother is Jewish.” (Rigg, p. 28)
To remind readers, Elly Landsberg née Mockrauer (Figure 8) was the niece of Rosalie Pauly née Mockrauer; Elly Landsberg’s father was Josef Mockrauer (Figure 9), brother of Rosalie Pauly née Mockrauer. (Figure 10)
Historically, one way for Jews to prove themselves to be good, loyal Germans was to fight for their country. Many Jews served in the German army during WWI, as this provided a way for them to gain greater acceptance and opportunity and prove their loyalty to the Vaterland. With Germany’s rearmament following Hitler’s ascension to power, Mischlinge faced a paradox, join the military to regain some of their lost pride and protect their families with the realization they would be serving Hitler. For those who were able to join, knowing they were trying to convince their comrades, officers and Nazi overlords to accept them as “normal” Germans, many fought with unparalleled bravery. The last thing a Mischling wanted was to be considered a “feiger Jude,” a cowardly Jew.
Because Mischlinge status obviously impeded upward mobility in German society and the army, such individuals sought to be recognized as German; one method was to obtain a legal waiver, Genehmigung, an official toleration of their standing as Mischling on account of their service and benefit to the Reich. The most sought-after designation was the one conferred on Field Marshall Erhard Milch, Deutschblütigkeitserklärung, a determination of pure German blood. Contrary to Göring’s assertion that he decided who was a Jew or not, in reality, this decision could only be granted by Hitler. Germany’s defeat was a fortunate outcome for Mischlinge because Hitler had planned to exterminate them all had Germany prevailed, completely cleansing the German blood line.
Josef and Rosalie Pauly’s only son, Willy Pauly, was born in 1883, and, as mentioned, served in the German army during WWI. Erhard Milch, born nine years later in 1892, also fought for Germany during the first world war. While I was able to find Erhard Milch’s WWI Personnel Register (Figure 11) on ancestry.com, I was unable to track down a similar document for Willy Pauly. Though both Willy and Erhard fought for Germany in WWI, likely on the Eastern Front, I can’t place them in the same theater during the war proving they met then.
Knowing that Pauly and Milch family members are related by marriage, I turned to ancestry.com to try and ascertain the possible relationship between Willy Pauly and Erhard Milch. Unfortunately, none of the ancestral documents nor family trees I located there contained enough detail to establish a connection.
Then, I remembered a Stammbaum, a family tree, for the Milch family Andi Pauly had found among his father’s surviving papers and sent me. Given the enormous detail in the Pauly Stammbaum, it was clear Klaus Pauly, Andi’s father, had communicated with an extensive network of near and distant relatives to create his tree. One such person was Dr. H.P. Kent from Saskatoon, Canada, who’d asked himself the same question developing his family tree in 1990 I was now asking myself, namely, “how exactly is Erhard Milch related to the Pauly family?” I found the answer in Dr. Kent’s tree (Figures 12a-b)—Erhard Milch is the second cousin once removed of a Ludwig Milch (Figure 13), the husband of one of Rosalie Pauly’s nieces. Theoretically, Erhard and Willy could have known or been aware of one another and their ancestral ties. Whether this would have been reason enough for Erhard to intercede on Willy’s behalf to shield him during WWII may never be known.
In addition to Erhard Milch’s WWI Personnel Register, I was also able to find in ancestry.com a copy of his certificate of marriage to Käthe Patschke (Figures 14a-b), showing they were married on the 8th March 1917 in Berlin-Grunewald. The significance of these documents is that both specifically name Erhard Milch’s “racially” Jewish father, Anton Milch; obviously, at the time there was no anticipating the coming of Hitler barely 15 years later that would require “masking” one’s Jewish ancestry. The major takeaway is that because of the existence of such historic documents, the only sure way Göring could conceal his protégé’s “half-Jewish” status, make it go away that is, was to force Erhard’s mother to “claim” that his true father was her Aryan uncle, even if that made her guilty of incest and adultery.
One final note of interest. While I’ve been unable to uncover the specific name of the agricultural research station in Felgentreu to which Willy Pauly was assigned during WWII, Andi provided a copy of one letter sent to his grandfather dated the 6th October 1945 (Figure 15); Felgentreu would eventually become part of the German Democratic Republic, but at the time was administered by the Soviet Military Administration. The Soviets approved the action outlined in this letter. It ordered Willy Pauly to hand over control of the research station to a Dr. Reinhold von Sengbusch, who was being transferred from the Kaiser Wilhelm Society for the Advancement of Science, later the Max Planck Society, to take over Willy’s responsibilities.
Following his dismissal, Willy turned to a man he knew, Mr. Rudolf Ersterer, who was the Director of the Bayerischen Verwaltung der staatlichen Schlösser, Bavarian Administration of State Castles; Mr Ersterer would eventually play an important role in rebuilding Munich after WWII. Following the war, it was difficult to find able German administrators who had not been members of the Nazi Party, but because Willy had not Ersterer appointed him to manage the world-renowned castle of Ludwig II, Herrenchiemsee (Figure 16), located on Herreninsel, the largest island in the Chiemsee lake, in southern Bavaria.
During Willy’s time on Herreninsel, the Constitutional Convention at Herrenchiemsee (German: Verfassungskonvent auf Herrenchiemsee) convened there. This was a meeting of constitutional experts nominated by the minister-presidents of the Western States of Germany, held in August 1948, as part of the process of drafting and adopting the current German constitution.
Ms. Anita Bunyan, a fellow at Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge, referencing Bryan Rigg’s book “Hitler’s Jewish Soldiers,” concludes that a significant number of Mischlinge appear to have been protected by fellow soldiers and superiors. While Rigg found many Aryan officers clearly motivated by racist ideology and ambition to turn them in, “. . .the discovery of a significant number of ‘sympathetic’ soldiers in the German army casts an interesting light on the relationship between ‘ordinary Germans’ and the Third Reich.” And, the apparent large number of Mischlinge and Jews in the German army would seem to support the notion the military may have afforded them some level of protection. Perhaps, this was the German army’s version of “Don’t ask, don’t tell”?
REFERENCES
Bergman, W. Dieter 1995 Between Two Benches. California Publishing Co., San Francisco
Bunyan, Anita 2003 Half-Shadows of the Reich, Hitler’s Jewish Soldiers. Queen’s University, Belfast
Klinger, Jerry 2011 Hitler’s Jewish Soldiers. The Jewish Magazine, September 2011
Rigg, Bryan Mark 2002 Hitler’s Jewish Soldiers, the Untold Story of Nazi Racial Laws and Men of Jewish Descent in the German Military. U. of Kansas, Lawrence, KS
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
Note: In this Blog post, I provide a brief guide on searching the on-line registry of vital records and statistics at the “Landesarchiv Berlin,” the Berlin State Archive. This may be of interest to the small percentage of readers whose forebears are German and may once have lived in Berlin.
Civil registration is the system by which a government records the vital events (births, marriages and deaths) of its citizens and residents. The resulting repository or database has different names in different countries and even in different states in America (e.g., civil registry, civil register, vital records, bureau of vital statistics, registrar, registry, register, registry office, population register). In Berlin, the records of births, marriages and deaths are stored at the “Landesarchiv Berlin,” the Berlin State Archive, and can be accessed on-line, specifically, in registers of births between roughly 1874 and 1907; in registers of marriages from about 1874 to 1935; and in registers of deaths from around 1874 to 1987.
It is quite challenging to use this on-line database, so in this Blog post I will share a few hints with interested readers on possibly finding their ancestors’ names. I need to alert readers that finding your ancestors in a registry does not immediately give you access to the underlying historic document; this entails sending an email to the Landesarchiv, and, at present, waiting up to four months to have the historic certificate mailed to you. If you do all the research yourself, identifying the specific register, Berlin borough (see below), and document number, the Landesarchiv typically does not charge you for their services and copies of records.
At the end, for those who enjoy working through puzzles, using my own grandfather Felix Bruck, I will challenge readers to find the specific register in which his death was recorded. In a week, I will tell and walk readers through the steps that I went through to find his name. No doubt readers will be considerably more adept and quicker than I was at finding the proper register.
Before introducing readers to the civil registration database, let me provide some brief historic context. According to the Landesarchiv’s website, the establishment of the archive in the modern sense of the term is 1808. During WWII the collections of the archives were dispersed, to avoid destruction; following the war, during the 1950’s and 1960’s, the surviving collections were reunited. In 1991 the Landesarchiv merged with Stadtarchiv in Berlin; the latter was the municipal archive and the place where the civil registration records were stored until the merger. In 2000, the Landesarchiv also integrated collections from the “Archivabeitlung der Landesbildstelle” and the “Archiv der Internationalen Bauausstellung,” including audio-visual archives.
The portal to access the civil registration records on file at the Landesarchiv Berlin can be found at the following URL:
I can no longer recall how I became aware of this database, but given my family’s deep-seated connections to Berlin, it was only a matter of time before I would eventually learn of its existence. Figure 1a is a screen-shot of the portal page, very simple in its presentation; Figure 1b is the same portal page translated, although the database cannot be queried from here (i.e., queries must be done from the German-language page). There are three categories of records that can be searched in combination or individually (i.e., you can check one, two or all three boxes) for any area of Berlin: Sterberegister (Death Records); Heiratsregister (Marriage Register); and Geburtenregister (Birth Registers).
One of the keys to searching the civil registration records for Berlin is understanding Berlin’s system of boroughs. The German capital Berlin is divided into 12 boroughs (German: Stadtteile/Bezirke), that have political rights like a town but are not legally cities. (Figure 2) On January 1, 2001, Berlin instituted a reform of its boroughs reducing their number from 23 to 12 to cut down on administrative costs. Below is a table showing the old and new borough names, an understanding of which is critical to querying the civil registration records:
NUMBER
NEW BOROUGH NAME
OLD BOROUGH NAMES
I
Mitte
Mitte, Tiergarten, Wedding
II
Friedrichshain-Kreuzberg
Friedrichshain, Kreuzberg
III
Pankow
Prenzlauer Berg, Weißensee, Pankow
IV
Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf
Charlottenburg, Wilmersdorf
V
Spandau
Spandau (unchanged)
VI
Steglitz-Zehlendorf
Steglitz, Zehlendorf
VII
Tempelhof-Schöenberg
Tempelhof, Schöenberg
VIII
Neukölln
Neukölln (unchanged)
IX
Treptow-Köpenick
Treptow, Köpenick
X
Marzahn-Hellersdorf
Marzahn, Hellersdorf
XI
Lichtenberg
Lichtenberg, Hohenschönhausen
XII
Reinickendorf
Reinickendorf (unchanged)
Each borough is made up of several officially recognized subdistricts or neighborhoods (Ortsteile in German), that can be distinguished in Figure 2. These neighborhoods typically have a historical identity as former independent cities, villages or rural municipalities that were united in 1920 as part of the “Greater Berlin Act,” which established the current configuration of Berlin; when first established in 1920, Berlin was organized into 20 boroughs, most often named after the largest component neighborhood, often a former city or municipality, sometimes named for geographic features (e.g., Kreuzberg, Prenzlauer Berg). Today, Berlin is both a city and one of the 16 states of Germany and is referred to as a city-state (Stadtstaat in German).
On the portal page, in the box labelled “Standesamt,” one must enter the name of the borough one is seeking birth, marriage or death records from. One begins by typing the first few letters of a borough, for example “Ch” for Charlottenburg, and, often, multiple listings for that borough will come up (e.g., Charlottenburg: Standesamt Charlottenburg; Standesamt Charlottenburg I; Standesamt Charlottenburg II; Standesamt Charlottenburg III; Standesamt Charlottenburg IV, etc.); select one, then select death, marriage, and/or death records you wish to see for that borough, then do a “Suchen” (i.e., search). A new page with the list of registers available for that borough or municipality will appear (e.g., Standesamt Charlottenburg IV) (Figure 3). Scrutinize the list until you find the register covering the year(s) you’re seeking; some years may have more than one register for them, while other registers may cover multiple years.
A brief aside about “Standesamt” (German plural: Standesämter); this is a German civil registration office, which is responsible for recording births, marriages, and deaths. Readers will recall my mentioning above that in 1991, the Landesarchiv merged with the Stadtarchiv in Berlin, the latter being where the civil registration records were kept until that time. Soon after the German Empire was created in 1871 from the previous collection of German states (kingdoms, duchies, etc.), a universal system of Standesämter, register offices, was established, taking effect on January 1, 1876. The system had previously been introduced in Prussia on October 1, 1874, so it is no accident that the civil registration records at the Landesarchiv begin in this year. Today, those register offices (Standesämter) are still part of the administration of every German municipality (in small communities, they are often incorporated with other offices of the administration). Since 1876, Germans can only enter a legal marriage in a Standesamt, and every marriage takes place before the local registrar (called Standesbeamter); similarly, every birth must be registered at a register office, as must every death.
I’ve gone into detail about the history on the establishment of Berlin following the Great Berlin Act of 1920, and the organization of the civil register offices, because it partially informs us of the extent of the historic documents they contain as well as the tedious steps that must be followed when querying the civil registration database.
In the time I’ve used the Landesarchiv Berlin database, I’ve only ever found seven documents I was researching. Virtually all my Jewish relatives lived in the well-heeled borough of Charlottenburg, so I ALWAYS begin my searches here, as I would suggest readers looking for their Jewish ancestors also do. Remember that today, the borough including Charlottenburg is named Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf, so the civil registers for “Wilmersdorf” should also be examined.
Regrettably, the empty box entitled “Standesamt” that you must complete does not provide a complete pull-down menu of all Berlin boroughs or neighborhoods when you start typing so I have no idea how many different boroughs, municipalities, and places are to be found in the civil register, likely dozens if not hundreds.
The first time I used the Landesarchiv database, I was searching for the register listing of my Aunt Susanne Bruck’s marriage to her husband, Dr. Franz Müller. (Figure 4) Because I have the original marriage certificate in my possession, two different ones, I knew they’d gotten married on April 18, 1931 in Berlin-Charlottenburg. (Figures 5-6) Obviously, I began searching the registers that cover this borough, and eventually found their marriage listed in “Standesamt-Charlottenburg III No. 605 (Namensverzeichnis Heiratregister 1924-1933) (name register to the marriage index 1924-1933).” (Figures 7a-b) If readers look carefully at the seal in the lower left corner of the two marriage certificates, you can see where it is stamped “Charlottenburg III.” The “Registernummer 263/1931” in the upper left-hand corner matches the number associated with my aunt and uncle’s names on the register page, so I knew I had located the correct certificate. Even though I have two marriage certificates for my aunt and uncle, I still requested a copy of the official document from the Landesarchiv, and much to my surprise it was different and included two pages, the second of which listed witnesses. (Figures 8a-b) For this reason, even if readers have originals of vital documents for your ancestors, I still recommend you request copies of any documents you may find in the Landesarchiv database; you never know what surprises may await you.
The next person I researched in the Landesarchiv database was my great-aunt Franziska Bruck (Figure 9), who I knew had committed suicide on January 2, 1942; she too had lived and died in Charlottenburg, and I found her name listed in “Standesamt-Charlottenburg Nr. 713 (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister 1942) (name register to the death index 1942).” (Figures 10a-b) I similarly requested a copy of my great-aunt’s death certificate and learned she had gruesomely committed suicide by hanging herself (Figure 11); obtaining poison to kill oneself may have been easier for Jews who were once in the medical profession, such as Dr. Ernst Neisser discussed in Post 48, unlike my great-aunt who was a renowned florist.
I’ve recently returned my attention to the Landesarchiv database in connection with writing Post 48 dealing with Dr. Ernst Neisser, who was the husband of my first cousin twice-removed, Margarethe Neisser née Pauly. (Figure 12) To quickly review. According to Susanne Vogel née Neisser, Ernst and Margarethe Neisser’s daughter, Margarethe was institutionalized for the last three years of her life and committed suicide on October 12, 1941. Ernst lived with his first cousin Luise Neisser in Charlottenburg, and the two of them committed suicide the following year after they were ordered to present themselves for deportation to Theresienstadt. In the previous Blog post, I told readers both took poison on October 1, 1942; Luise died that day, but Ernst lingered for four days and succumbed on October 4, 1942.
I was able to locate in the Landesarchiv registers, the death listings for both Margarethe “Sara” Neisser and Luise “Sara” Neisser but, interestingly, for the longest time not for Dr. Ernst Neisser. Margarethe, I found listed in “Standesamt-Charlottenburg Nr. 712 (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister 1941)” (Figures 13a-b) and Luise in “Standesamt-Charlottenburg Nr. 713 (Namensverzeichnis Sterberegister 1942).” (Figures 14a-b) I’ve requested both of their death certificates from the Landesarchiv, and await their arrival.
Finding Dr. Ernst Neisser’s listing in the Landesarchiv involved some serious forensic work and one I worked out literally as I was writing this post. I knew that Dr. Ernst Neisser lived with his first cousin Luise Neisser in Eichenallee in Charlottenburg; as mentioned above, both Ernst and Luise tried to commit suicide on October 1, 1942, and while Luise succeeded, Ernst lingered until October 4th. Even though they died four days apart, I assumed both their deaths had been registered in Charlottenburg where they lived, but I was unable to find Ernst’s death recorded in any registers for Charlottenburg nor Wilmersdorf.
According to his daughter’s written account of his final days, Ernst died at the Jüdische Krankenhaus Berlin, the Berlin Jewish Hospital, where he’d been taken following his attempted suicide. It occurred to me that Ernst may have had his death registered in the borough where the Jewish Hospital is located; I researched this and discovered the Jüdische Krankenhaus Berlin, which still exists today, is in the borough “Mitte.” To remind readers what I illustrated in the table above, today’s borough Mitte once consisted of three independent boroughs, Mitte, Tiergarten, and Wedding; the registers for “Mitte” and “Tiergarten” yielded nothing, but finally in the last possible register where I thought his name might be listed, in the borough “Wedding,” under October 1942, I found the name “Neißer, Richard Ernst Israel.” (Figures 15a-b) Success at last!
In order to successfully navigate the Landesarchiv database, it is helpful to have at least the month and year when a vital event in an ancestor’s life may have taken place. Ernst and Margarethe Neisser’s daughter, Susanne Vogel née Neisser, noted the place and date of her own marriage to Hans Vogel in the preface to the memoir she wrote about her father’s final days; it took place on the 31st of July 1926 in Berlin. (Figure 16) Assuming, as I always do, the wedding took place in Charlottenburg, I successfully located the spouse and bride’s names in the “Standesamt-Charlottenburg I Nr. 467 (Namensverzeichnis Heiratregister 1921-1927).” (Figures 17a-b)
There is one other great-aunt whose Berlin residence (i.e., “Prenzlauer Allee 113” in the neighborhood of “Prenzlauer Berg” in the Berlin borough of “Pankow”) (Figure 18) and date of death are known to me (i.e., 20th of February 1970), my renowned Socialist ancestor, Elsbeth Bruck (Figure 19); she died in East Berlin well before the fall of the German Democratic Republic in 1990. Still, despite having very specific information for her, to date, I’ve not been able to locate her name in a Landesarchiv register. I assume East Germans were equally meticulous about recording vital statistics, so I conclude I’ve just not worked out the correct parameters as to where she died. It’s possible that, like Dr. Neisser, she died in a hospital in a different borough of East Berlin and that her death was registered in that borough. I simply don’t know.
So, to let me briefly recap some suggestions when searching through the Landesarchiv database. If you think you might have an ancestor or know of someone who was born in Berlin sometime after 1874 (but before 1905), got married there before 1935, and/or died there before 1987, it helps if you can narrow down at least one vital event to a specific year or actual date. Next, if you have any idea where your relative or acquaintance lived in Berlin, this may help you determine the borough where they resided. You may know the actual address where they lived without knowing which modern or historic Berlin neighborhood or borough the street was located, so Google the address and try and narrow it down to a borough; be aware that in Berlin there are multiple streets with the same name (e.g., Kastanienallee (=Chestnut Street)). You may be able to locate where your relative or acquaintance lived by using old Berlin Address Books available through ancestry.com. If you think you’ve finally identified the borough, you can begin your search in the Landesarchiv. As I’ve illustrated through example, Berlin boroughs must be searched by their modern names, as well as by the historic municipalities or neighborhoods that comprised that borough.
I’d be very interested in hearing from any of you who are successful in finding the names of any ancestors or acquaintances in the on-line Berlin State Archive database and obtaining copies of historic documents. Active genealogists know how valuable original vital records can be in establishing precise dates for these events and possibly uncovering another generation of ancestors.
Many readers will not have any relatives nor know of anyone who had any association with Berlin yet be interested in “testing” their skills using the Landesarchiv database to find an actual person connected to the city. For such “puzzle-masters,” I’ve created a challenge to find my grandfather Felix Bruck (Figure 20) in a Berlin register. Figure 21 is a scan of his death certificate (the archaic German word “Todesschein” is used, but the modern German term is “Totenschein”).
