Note: In this post, I discuss some previously unknown details about my father, Gary Otto Brook (Dr. Otto Bruck), and his life before and during WWII uncovered in a file I was given by a staffer at the German Embassy in connection with my German citizenship application. The staffer ordered this file from an office in Saarburg, Germany, where my father’s 1950s dossier wound up after his compensation petition was processed.
In Post 166, I related to readers my ongoing endeavor to obtain German citizenship. The process is moving apace thanks to the assistance of an extraordinarily helpful staffer at the German Embassy in Los Angeles. I recently delivered the preliminary application and only require one additional certificate to complete my submission. For reasons I will explain below obtaining citizenship could take 18 months or more. The recovery of an unexpected document is a direct result of my ongoing efforts and is the subject of this post.
Based on my vague childhood recollections of my father’s attempt to obtain some measure of recompense for the loss of his dental practice in the Free City of Danzig during the era of the National Socialists, I would have expected an application to exist supporting his petition. I was just not sure where I might find it. However, I’m now in possession of my father’s 13-page compensation file he originally submitted in the 1950s to the then-Federal Republic of Germany. (Figure 1) The file was ordered by the staffer at the German Embassy from Saarburg, Germany, from an office I did not know existed. While alone insufficient to fulfill application requirements, it bolsters my petition. I will discuss some of the contents below.
Though not particularly revelatory in a broad sense, the petition pinpoints some of the chronological events in my father’s life providing a more nuanced understanding of their timing. The events are told firsthand in a matter of fact-style chronicling when they took place. However, they mask an undercurrent of extreme loss that leaves me almost 90 years later deeply saddened. It’s not what’s written but what’s implied about how my father’s life and by extension the lives of so many other Holocaust victims were extinguished or upended that reverberates to this day. Possibly because of the fragmented nature of our ongoing political discourse this seems even more relevant.
A related issue I’ve been grappling with is the question of success versus justice. Suffice it here to say that for most Holocaust victims or their descendants no amount of financial compensation, what could be construed as a “successful” outcome, can ever make up for the loss they suffered. Ergo, they can never obtain real justice. This is an existential question that merits further consideration outside of my blog. However, it’s a question I’ve been pondering in the context of my longstanding claim against the French Ministry of Culture to obtain compensation and repatriation for paintings confiscated by the Nazis from one of my father’s first cousins in December 1940. Notwithstanding the fact that I’m the closest surviving relative to my father’s cousin, because France has a civil law legal system, I’ve been denied the opportunity to obtain justice on behalf of my family. As my petition nears resolution, this will be the subject of an upcoming post.
Back to the subject of this post. As I proceed, I’ll describe a few of the documents attached to my father’s petition which shed further light on what I know. I need to emphasize that much of the new information about my father comes from a dry recitation of events, not from any detailed discussion about what my father thought or felt about these events. Still, reading between the lines conceals disappointment and resignation to his fate. In fact, growing up, my father often used the word “kismet,” which comes from the Arabic word “qisma” which literally means “to divide” or “allot.” As a practical matter “kismet” is used to describe something that happens by chance like it was meant to be.
One document in my father’s petition is titled “Lebenslauf” (Figure 2), translated as curriculum vitae. Most often, a curriculum vitae summarizes a job applicant’s qualifications from the standpoint of work experience, education, and skills. In terms of what my father includes, it harkens back to its original Latin meaning, “the course of one’s life.” My father, born in 1907 (Figure 3), indicates his schooling involved three years in elementary school followed by nine years in a Humanistic Grammar School. He passed his so-called “Abitur,” basically his high school-leaving examination, in 1926. Then, from 1926 to 1930, he studied dentistry at the universities of Berlin, Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland], and Munich. He qualified to be a dentist on the 8th of May 1930. During 1930 and 1931, my father apprenticed, assisted, and temporarily filled in for dentists in Königsbrück, Berlin, Allenstein [today: Olsztyn, Poland], and Danzig [today: Gdańsk, Poland].
Let me digress for a moment. As implied above, the broad outline of my father’s life was previously known to me. Still, there are a few surprises. I was aware my father studied dentistry at the University of Berlin since I have his diploma from there, but it was a complete revelation that he studied at the universities of Breslau and Munich. His link to Breslau is less surprising given that the Bruck family had longstanding ties with this city, including the fact that my father’s older brother, Dr. Fedor Bruck, received his dental degree here. However, the fact that my father studied dentistry in Breslau makes me wonder whether he apprenticed with his renowned relative, Dr Walther Wolfgang Bruck (1872-1937) (Figure 4), dentist to Kaiser Wilhelm II, the last German Kaiser, his family, and other royalty. This would strongly suggest my father trained with a family member who was exceptionally skilled in his craft.
Munich and Breslau are about eight hours apart today by car. There is no indication how long my father studied in Munich, although this merits further investigation.
As far as the four places where my father apprenticed in 1930 and 1931, none are surprising. I have in my possession letters of recommendation from the respective dentists in Königsbrück (Figure 5) and Allenstein (Figure 6) commending my father on his exemplary work in their absence. Furthermore, since my father attended dental school in Berlin, then later lived in the Free City of Danzig, I would have expected he would have apprenticed in these places. In the case of Danzig, I even have a picture showing him there in his dental scrubs. (Figure 7)
Let me continue. I know from a note in my father’s surviving papers that he had his own dental practice in a town in the Free City of Danzig named Tiegenhof [today: Nowy Dwór Gdański, Poland] from April 1932 through April 1937; this town is approximately 40km (25 miles) east of Danzig. While it is technically accurate to say my father maintained an independent dental practice until April 1937, as a practical matter because of the Nazi imposed boycott of Jewish businesses, he’d ceased having patients by 1936.
My father’s compensation file includes another informative document, an “Eidesstattliche Erklaerung” (Figures 8a-b), translated as affidavit. Here my father writes that he sold his dental equipment and instruments at less than ten percent of their market value. To compound the affront, patients whom my father had treated before the boycott went into full effect stiffed him to the tune of what today amounts to many thousands of dollars.
One particularly intriguing document included with my father’s compensation application is titled “Fuhrungszeugnis,” a “Certificate of Good Conduct.” (Figure 9) It is dated the 28th of April 1937 from Tiegenhof, and signed by “Die Polizeivertbeltung,” Tiegenhof’s “Police Bureaucracy.” It gives the precise dates my father’s dental practice was in business, from the 14th of April 1932 until the 28th of April 1937. Why my father would have wanted such a document is completely understandable, though why authorities would have felt compelled to document his service when they no longer wanted it in Germany, or the Free City of Danzig is mystifying.
Following the sale of his dental equipment in Tiegenhof, my father moved to the city of Danzig in April 1937, where, in his own words, “he took over the representation of dental colleagues until March 1938.” I presume the anonymity of this larger city, where my father had multiple professional colleagues, allowed him to continue working for a while. This is like what my uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck did after he was forced to shutter his own dental practice in Liegnitz [today: Legnica, Poland] in Lower Silesia after Hitler came to power in January 1933. He moved to Berlin, working under the auspices of non-Jewish dentists until that too became impossible.
I’d always been uncertain where my father spent the period between April 1937 and March 1938. I mistakenly thought he might have joined his brother in Berlin, possibly working there. Based on photographs in his albums, however, I knew that by early March 1938 he’d permanently left Germany since photos show him transiting through Vienna, Austria following his departure. (Figure 10) He was headed to Fiesole, Italy, outside Florence, to join his sister and brother-in-law, who were then operating a bed-and-breakfast there.
What caused my father to leave Germany before Kristallnacht on 9-10 November 1938 is not entirely clear, though I have no doubt he clearly saw the handwriting on the wall. The absence of a wife and any children made his departure a relatively easy decision.
A stray sentence in the affidavit accompanying his compensation petition suggests my father may have had a plan. The two first cousins with whom my father was closest were Jeanne “Hansi” Löwenstein (Figure 11) and her brother Heinz Löwenstein. (Figure 12) Both were born in Danzig, and I strongly suspect that while doing his dental apprenticeship in Danzig in 1930-1931, he lived with his aunt, Hedwig Löwenstein, nee Bruck (Figure 13), and these two cousins. Following the death of her husband Rudolf Löwenstein in a plane crash on the 22nd of August 1930, subject of Post 71, Hedwig and the family moved to Nice, France, along France’s Côte d’Azur. The precise date of their move is unknown.
Following his departure from Germany, I don’t think my father ever permanently intended to stay in Fiesole, Italy. I think his intended destination at the time was Nice, France. My father writes in his affidavit that he was unable to obtain a work permit in France so finally enlisted in the French Foreign Legion in November 1938.
Suffice it here to say that as I learn more about France’s complicity with the Nazis during WWII, I never fail to get angry anew at France’s treatment of my father and his family before, during, and after the war. For me this still seems very relevant, particularly as France has fought for ten years since 2014 to retain paintings rendered by Fedor Löwenstein (older brother of Hansi and Heinz) confiscated by the Nazis in December 1940 in Bordeaux and stored in Paris since, the provenance of which was only uncovered in 2010. I digress.
Though of no particular interest to readers, the exact dates of my father’s engagements in the French Foreign Legion (FFL) and England’s Pioneer Corps are mentioned. My father was in the FFL (Figure 14) in Algeria from the 9th of November 1938 until the 9th of November 1943. He was in the English Army (Figure 15) from the 19th of November 1943 until the 5th of May 1946, thus for two years 224 days. I have a picture of my father in his English Army uniform with his comrades-in-arm, taken in September 1945 in Rome, Italy. (Figure 16) Appearing to be almost a farewell gathering, I mistakenly concluded that my father had been demobilized from the English Army in Rome. Contrary to my assumption, in his affidavit my father writes he was demobilized in Nice, France.
For readers interested in knowing what I’ve learned about my father’s time in Nice, I discussed this in Post 26. After his discharge from the English army, my father procured a permit to work as a dental technician but was unable to work as a dentist. Because he had no connections, he could barely make ends meet.
Other information of personal interest is the precise date my father left France, the 2nd of June 1948, and the exact date he landed in America, the 7th of June 1948. Having previously found my father’s naturalization card (Figure 17) on ancestry.com, I knew he became an American citizen through Court Order #7509013, dated the 19th of July 1955. Though both the “Bruck” and “Brook” names appear on the card, I’d never been sure if he changed his name upon landing in America in 1948 or upon becoming an American citizen. Well, as it turns out, my father changed his name to Gary Otto Brook in 1955.
The final document in my father’s compensation file I’ll discuss is titled “Staatsangehorigkeitsausweis.” (Figure 18) Issued in Berlin on the 22nd of November 1927, this is my father’s German nationality card. I have the original among my father’s surviving papers, and as implied above it bolsters my claim for German citizenship.
As to the restitution my father received for the loss of his dental practice and livelihood, it amounted to a pittance, approximately $2,500. in 1966. Unlike my uncle Fedor who miraculously survived the entire war hidden in Berlin, my father never received a regular pension from the German government.
Let me return to something I alluded to above, namely the reason for the lengthy delay in processing German citizenship applications. The explanation is rich. Because of the tragic events of October 7, 2023, in Israel, Israelis of German descent are applying in droves for German citizenship.
In closing, let me be clear that I don’t expect the above to be of much interest to readers. However, it highlights that occasionally one happens upon a primary source document related to one’s ancestors that fill in some gaps in one’s understanding of their lives. In my case, the recovery of my father’s compensation petition was a fortuitous outcome of my German citizenship application.
Note: In this post, I discuss the contents of a collection of photographs shared with me by one of my fourth cousins, Tom Brook. They shed light on some of our mutual ancestors and give a unique glimpse into his father’s WWII deployments, primarily in Egypt, Libya, and India.
Periodically a relative or acquaintance will share with me their collection of family photos or memorabilia. Acknowledging that some readers will consider this akin to a friend inflicting their vacation photos on you, to me this is like a treasure hunt particularly when the pictures are unlabeled and I’m able to identify the subjects through logical deduction or by comparison to labeled images. Frequently, knowing the owner’s ancestral lineage helps; if they’re related to me, I’m often able to identify their ancestors because of my familiarity with our family tree.
On other occasions, the photo collections provide historic glimpses of well-known events or places or, alternatively, off-the-beat locations. It is worth remembering that World War II was a global conflict that took soldiers to often remote spots around the world. In the case of my own father’s surviving photos of his time in the French Foreign Legion while stationed in North Africa, mostly in Algeria, I’ve been told they’re unique. I would say the same regarding the collection I’m about to discuss.
My wife Ann and I recently traveled to New York to meet my fourth cousin Tom Brook and his husband Sam Wahl. (Figure 1) Beyond the fact we’d never previously met, and I was curious to make their acquaintance, Tom had mentioned his father Casper Bruck’s album of photos which he’d expressed an interest in showing me. This is an assemblage I was particularly intrigued to peruse given his family’s connection to Breslau, Germany [today: Wrocław, Poland] where multiple of my own ancestors also hail from. Some of our most accomplished mutual ancestors come from Breslau, several of whom are buried in the still-existing Old Jewish Cemetery [Polish: Stary Cmentarz Żydowski we Wrocławiu]. (Figure 2) Relevantly, both of our families changed their surname to “Brook” upon their arrival in Anglo-Saxon countries.
I previously introduced Tom Brook to readers in Post 143 when I discussed his role as one of the first reporters on the scene after John Lennon was shot in December 1980 outside The Dakota Building on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, an event he is invariably asked about on milestone anniversaries of this tragic event. Like then, Tom still works for the BBC as the host of a weekly show called “Talking Movies,” where he reviews new releases and interviews actors.
Like other cousins I’ve discovered around the world, Tom found me through my blog when he asked if we are related. As I happened to have him in my ancestral tree, though with no details, I explained we are fourth cousins. Serendipitously, I was more recently contacted by Tom’s second cousin from Wolverhampton, England, Helen Winter, née Renshaw (Figure 3), whom I’ve previously mentioned to readers as the source of lots of family ephemera. While Helen and Tom have never linked up, Helen’s older sister Anna Renshaw clearly recalls meeting him as a child in England where both grew up. As further evidence of my ancestral connection to Tom, my fourth cousin twins (Figure 4) from Sydney, Australia, also born in England, whom I mirthfully refer to as “my movie star cousins,” are Tom’s third cousins.
In any case, during our recent encounter in New York Tom showed me his father’s photo album along with an unusually decorated cigar box that belonged to one of his ancestors, likely his great-grandfather (Figure 5); a little more on this box below. Tom allowed me to borrow the album so I could duplicate the photographs for later study. This has been invaluable because with Helen Winter’s help, together we’ve managed to identify the subjects in a few images that Tom specifically wondered about. Also, photos detailing Casper Bruck’s deployment during the war capture rare images of a few places that are today household names.
In this post, I’ll discuss a few family photos but will mostly highlight places where Casper was deployed during the war; I think this will be of broader interest to my audience. These images provide an opportunity to discuss what was going on in the war and its immediate aftermath at the time Casper took his photographs.
Given that the album belonged to Tom’s father, not unexpectedly, most images show Casper and his immediate family at various stages of their lives. In terms of family photos, I’ll address mostly those whose subjects were unknown to Tom.
One of the oldest photos in Tom’s collection is an undated Daguerreotype-like image of a youngish man with three children (Figure 6); as readers can make out, the figures are darkly illuminated. Helen Winter and I were able to determine this is Tom’s great-grandfather, Felix Friedrich Bruck (1843-1911) and his three children, Eberhard Friedrich Bruck (1877-1960), Margot Giles, née Bruck (1879-1949), and Werner Friedrich August Bruck (1880-1945). Eberhard Bruck and Werner Bruck are, respectively, Helen Winter and Tom Brook’s grandfathers as young children. Margot, the only daughter, is distinguishable because she is holding a doll. A later photo dated 1930 shows Eberhard Bruck and his daughter, also named Margot (1917-1985), and Werner Bruck (Figure 7); Margot is Helen Winter’s mother.
The youngest of Felix Bruck’s children, Werner Bruck was born on the 23rd of August 1880, and his mother, Anna Elise Bruck, née Prausnitz (1853-1880) died a week later, perhaps a result of childbearing complications. Obviously, the Daguerreotype-like picture, when Werner appears to be only a year or two old, does not include his mother. The picture clearly captures the weight of her death on the family, where all look immeasurably sad. Elsewhere among Tom’s photos is a stand-alone picture of his great-grandmother. (Figure 8)
Felix Bruck never remarried. Elsewhere in Tom’s album are a few untitled pictures of him later in life where he is portlier and more difficult to recognize compared to when he was younger. (Figures 9-10) After studying the setting and comparing the photos to similar ones among Helen’s ephemera, there is no doubt the photos depict Felix. Margot Bruck was the first of his children to bear him a grandchild, Otto Giles (1904-1980), and a photo survives of Otto as a child seated on his grandfather’s lap in his study. (Figure 11)
The surviving photos taken in Felix’s study are particularly intriguing to me. Hanging on the wall above his desk are portraits of unidentified individuals I’m almost certain depict older Bruck ancestors, possibly Felix’s grandparents. (Figure 12) Unfortunately, I have no portraits to compare them against. Helen’s collection of photos includes a comparable one of Felix seated in his study with his daughter Margot standing aside him with those same portraits visible. (Figure 13)
Beyond the pictures of Tom’s great-grandparents, Tom’s album includes pictures of his grandparents (Figure 14), parents (Figure 15-16), aunt and uncle (Figure 17), and cousins. Apart from casual family acquaintances, Helen and I have been able to identify most of the subjects. A particularly endearing photo was taken in 1928 of Casper with his younger brother Peter. (Figure 18)
Let me shift now to Casper Bruck’s intriguing wartime images.
The individual pages in Casper photo album typically note the year(s) and place(s) the pictures were taken. Casper Bruck’s album includes a page of photos taken in El Alamein, Egypt, and in Benghazi and Tripoli, Libya in 1942-43. El Alamein is a town located on the Mediterranean Sea 66 miles west of Alexandria, Egypt, while Benghazi and Tripoli are in Libya further west but also along the Mediterranean. A little historic context is useful to understand Casper’s pictures.
The Second Battle of El Alamein was fought near the western frontier of Egypt between the 23rd of October and the 4th of November 1942. El Alamein was the climax and turning point of the North African campaign during WWII and the beginning of the end of the Western Desert Campaign. The Axis army of Germany and Italy suffered a decisive defeat at the hands of the British Eighth Army that prevented them from penetrating into Egypt. This kept the Suez Canal in Allied hands and prevented the full-scale invasion and seizure of the Middle Eastern and Persian oil fields.
In a 13-day battle the Axis Panzerarmee Afrika was crushed and forced to retreat from Egypt and Libya to the borders of Tunisia. The Axis fought a defensive campaign in Tunisia into 1943. Although they engaged in a tenacious rearguard action, the Axis forces were in an impossible position. In May 1943, they were forced to surrender, with the loss of around 240,000 prisoners.
Casper’s album separately includes a sequence of photos taken in Cairo; I can’t say for sure when they were taken because the last numeral on the date is hidden but I think they predate his pictures from El Alamein, meaning they were likely taken earlier in 1942 before the Second Battle of El Alamein. The images from Cairo are interesting more for what they don’t show, namely, the pyramids outside the city; curiously, several famous mosques are instead illustrated. (Figure 19)
Turning to Casper’s photos of El Alamein, one image stands out. In the foreground is a corrugated metal sign reading “El Alamein Salvage,” and in the near background is written “Springbok Road.” (Figure 20) I found an identical copy of this image that sold on eBay for £6.99. I imagine this was a popular photo spot, and that multiple examples of this picture survive in the decaying albums of former English soldiers involved in the Western Desert Campaign. Several of Casper’s photos appear to show German and Italian abandoned war materiels waiting to be broken up for scrap metal, ergo the salvage effort. (Figure 21)
Another intriguing photo in Casper’s album is simply labeled “ITIES.” (Figure 22) Having no idea what this signifies, I eventually discovered this is derogatory English slang for Italians. The photo clearly shows Italian prisoners of war. What I learned while researching this image is that unlike the Germans whose retreat from El Alamein was more orderly, thereby limiting the number of their surviving soldiers captured, their Italian allies lacked motor transport to evacuate their withdrawing units thus resulting in more Italians being swept up by the British. Regardless, by November 4 the motorized elements of the Axis were in full retreat, and because of the sluggish British follow-up they were allowed to escape virtually unscathed to Tunisia.
The page on which Casper’s pictures of Benghazi and Tripoli are found is labelled “MEF 1942-43,” which stands for “Middle East Forces 1942-43.” (Figure 23) It’s not clear that Casper was in one of vanguard British infantry divisions that participated in the Tunisian campaign that ultimately defeated the Axis forces there in 1943. Photos of Casper place him in Ismailia, Cairo, and Alexcandria, Egypt between 1942 and 1945. However, this overlaps with the period between 1942 and 1946 when he was assuredly in India and Pakistan. Possibly, Casper’s regiment was duty-based in Egypt but deployed elsewhere as needed? As we speak, I’m attempting to obtain Casper’s military dossier from the United Kingdom’s Military of Defence to better understand the sequence of his deployments.
My friend Brian Cooper, an amateur English military historian who has assisted me immeasurably in learning where my father’s first cousin, Heinz Loewenstein, was incarcerated during the war, recognized that in several of Casper’s photos where he is sporting a beret, he is wearing a badge of the Glider Pilot Regiment. (Figure 24) A 1946 group picture of Casper’s regiment labeled “Sergeant’s Mess. Glider Pilot Depot” shows the regimental badge. (Figure 25) Casper’s album includes photos of him piloting his glider (Figure 26) and flying over the Indus and elsewhere. It’s obvious Casper was a glider pilot, at least in India and Pakistan. (Figure 27)
Having never previously come across any of my distant ancestors who were glider pilots during WWII, nor photos of their activities, I did a little research. It’s quite engrossing. The most widely used glider during the war was the Waco CG-4A. Given that Casper adopted a mutt during his time in India which he named “Waco” (Figure 28) it is reasonable to assume he piloted one of these crafts.
Gliders from India supported military operations in Burma during WWII. Special operation units battled the Japanese army in Burma attempting to reopen the Burma Road linking India and China. Waco CG-4A gliders were used to land troops, ammunition, medical supplies, and even mules to carry supplies. Significantly, in a special operations battle using gliders to fight the Japanese army in Burma, more than 9,000 fighters were dropped 165 miles behind Japanese lines.
Fascinatingly, some gliders carried up to three mules; the pilots or handlers always had a pistol at the ready to shoot any mules that went berserk. While this may sound cruel, it is important to understand that a glider is built of steel tubing and doped fabric (i.e., a textile material that is impregnated with a chemical compound, known as “dope,” the primary purpose of which is to cause shrinkage of the fabric, thus making it taut and improving the flow of air over it during flight) so that it would take little for a mule to kick out the side of a glider endangering the crew and craft.
Gliders were advantageous because they could deploy large numbers of troops quickly and accurately. Also, they could land in small, inaccessible areas where a larger aircraft couldn’t land. They were also used to transport heavier equipment that was too large for parachutes or other transport aircraft. The India-Burma campaign involved difficult terrain that made it difficult to land gliders, so they were often treated as semi-expendable.
Allied forces retrieved gliders using twin-engine transports, such as a C-47 transport planes (Figure 29), through a technique referred to as “glider snatching.” The tactic involved having the transport plane fly low to the ground and quickly hooking onto a special attachment point on the glider, essentially “snatching” it into the air without needing to land. This allowed for the retrieval of troops or supplies from a combat zone where landing might be impossible; this was referred to as a “glider snatch pick-up.” This maneuver was considered risky due to the need for precise timing and low flying altitude. The Allies also used twin-engine transports to snatch up gliders filled with wounded soldiers and fly them to hospitals.
Returning briefly to the cigar box Tom Brook showed me. (see Figure 5) I shared pictures I’d taken of it with Helen, who in turn passed it along to one of our mutual German cousins. It appears that one of the captions is the beginning of Heinrich Heine’s lyrical love poem, “Die Lorelei.” According to modern scholars, Heine is now seen as a romantic poet, for his passion, his independence of mind, and his hatred of political repression. However, he was critical of German Romanticism, which he saw as idealizing the feudal past, being a deterrent to political progress, and encouraging xenophobia. For this reason, his books were later banned by the Nazis. The inclusion of Heine’s poem on Felix Bruck’s cigar box may have signified his attachment to liberal principles.
More could certainly be gleaned from Casper’s photos, but my intent has merely been to highlight a few unique images that provide a sense of the theaters in which Casper Bruck fought. For readers holding comparable collections of family photos, military or otherwise, scrutinizing them with a hand lens will no doubt yield some intriguing finds. Personally, I repeatedly find myself returning to my father’s pictures, continually discovering something I’d previously missed.
REFERENCES
Battles of El-Alamein. Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/event/battles-of-El-Alamein
India in World War II (2024, October 17). In Wikipedia. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/India_in_World_War_II
National WWII Glider Pilots Association. 1944, India/Burma was the glider snatching capital of the world. https://ww2gp.org/burma/buma_compulation.pdf
National WWII Glider Pilots Association. GliderPickup. https://www.ww2gp.org/gliderpickup/
Second Battle of El Alamein (2024, December 6). In Wikipedia. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_Battle_of_El_Alamein
Tunisia 1942-1943. British Infantry Divisions. British Military History. Docs – Tunisia 1942 – 1943 – British Infantry Divisions – British Military History
Note: In this lengthy post, I compile the substantial amount of evidence I’ve collected related to my father’s first cousinHeinz Löwenstein’s exploits during WWII. This post would not have been possible without the substantial contributions of Mr. Brian Cooper from England who ferreted out most of the primary source documents and books citing Heinz. I’m eternally grateful.
My last three posts (Post 160,Post 161, & Post 162) have largely dealt with Fedor Löwenstein (1901-1946), one of my father’s first cousins, a renowned painter. He moved to Paris in 1923, attracted by the artistic influence of the capital. He was part of an artistic movement that dominated there, designated as the École de Paris, the School of Paris. This does not refer to any school that really existed, but rather to a movement which brought together artists who contributed to making Paris the focus of artistic creation between the two world wars. It was in this rich artistic context that Löwenstein painted and drew. His early works were marked by the influence of cubism, whose main representatives worked in Paris, although his subsequent productions evolved towards abstraction.
In Post 160, I provided an update on my now ten-year old claim against the French Ministry of Culture’s (Premier Ministre) Commission pour la restitution des biens et l’indemnisation des victims de spoliations antisemites (CIVS), Commission for the restitution of property and compensation for victims of anti-Semitic spoliation. In brief, my claim involves a request for compensation and repatriation of 25 works of art produced by Fedor Löwenstein confiscated by the Nazis in December 1940 at the Port of Bordeaux. The works were destined for New York for an exhibition at the Nierendorf Gallery but only three paintings are believed to have survived the Nazis’ destruction of his so-called “decadent art.”
In Posts 161 and 162, respectively, I discussed photos and letters that have been discovered and/or have survived among the personal effects of two of Fedor’s girlfriends, the Corposano Studio dancer Doris Halphen and the renowned artist Marcelle Rivier (1906-1986).
In this post, I shift my attention to Fedor Löwenstein’s younger brother Heinz Löwenstein (1905-1979) (Figure 1), specifically his whereabouts during WWII. His capers and adventures during the war are bookworthy. I’ve previously explored this topic relying on detailed information unearthed by an English gentleman named Brian Cooper from Maidstone, Kent, England. (Figure 2) Brian specializes in studying and researching British WWII prisoners of war and coincidentally stumbled upon a mention of Heinz Löwenstein and an alias he used, “Henry Goff,” while investigating his uncle incarcerated in a German stalag during the war. Since writing Post 137 and Post 137, Postscript, with Brian’s help and guidance, I’ve discovered an astonishing amount of new information which I discuss below.
Unlike Fedor Löwenstein, who died prematurely of Hodgkin lymphoma in 1946 in Nice, France before I was born, as a child I met both of Fedor’s younger siblings, Jeanne “Hansi” Goff, née Löwenstein (1902-1986) and Heinz Löwenstein. Both Hansi and Heinz were my father’s closest cousins. Hansi was an austere person who seemingly disliked children; by contrast, her brother Heinz was exceedingly affable and charismatic. Throughout her life, Hansi retained her married name “Goff,” a name I will return to below as I relate the story of her brother’s wartime escapades.
As a brief aside, from the report that the CIVS’ forensic genealogist prepared in connection with my claim against the French Ministry of Culture, I learned that Hansi’s husband’s name was “Georges Goff.” To the best of my knowledge, Georges and Hansi never had any children, or at least none that survived to adulthood. To date, I have been unable to learn whether they divorced or whether Georges died prematurely; regardless, Hansi never remarried.
As many readers whose relatives survived WWII can probably attest to, my own relatives were rather reticent to talk about their experiences during the war. My father occasionally alluded to Heinz Löwenstein’s wartime exploits but in such vague terms that as a child I never understood what those escapades entailed. My childhood fantasies filled in the blanks in ways that now seem phantasmagoric. I never anticipated I would learn the truth but thanks to Brian, I’m now able to fill in more of Heinz’s story.
Let me start by reviewing what I presented earlier, then move to the more recent discoveries so the entire story is told somewhat linearly.
Brian Cooper first contacted me in February 2023 after coming across my Post 16 where I discussed my great aunt, Hedwig Löwenstein, née Bruck (1870-1949), and her three children, including Heinz. (Figure 3) In his own research on British prisoners of war, he’d come across the name Heinz Lowenstein (without an umlaugh over the “o”). Initially uncertain whether the Heinz he’d come across and my ancestor were the same person, two threads in my post convinced him they were one and the same. First, as mentioned, Heinz Lowenstein used the alias “Henry Goff,” Goff being his married sister’s surname. Second, he learned that my father’s cousin Heinz Löwenstein had the same date of birth, the 8th of March 1905, as the prisoner of war records indicate for the Heinz Lowenstein he’s been researching.
I immediately asked Brian why he was interested in Heinz Löwenstein. Though very familiar with this branch of my extended family, I assumed there was an ancestral connection of which I was unaware. Amazingly, it turns out Brian’s uncle, Harold William Jackson from the 2nd Battalion Northamptonshire Regiment, captured in 1940 in France, was interned in one of the same Stalags as Heinz had been held, namely, Stalag VIIIB/Stalag 344 in Lamsdorf, Silesia [today: Łambinowice, Poland]. More on this below but suffice it to say that unlike Heinz who was at multiple Stalags and work labor camps throughout his captivity, Brian’s uncle was apparently only imprisoned in Stalag VIIIB until January 1945 when the Nazis began marching the still able-bodied prisoners-of-war west as the Red Army was approaching. By contrast with my father’s cousin Heinz Löwenstein, Brian’s uncle’s fate is unknown. Whether Heinz and Brian’s uncle knew or ever ran into one another is similarly unknown.
Until Brian Cooper provided documentary evidence, I had no idea where Heinz spent the war nor how he survived. The primary source of information on Heinz Löwenstein’s whereabouts and movements during the war can be found in the UK National Archives. Specifically, records created or inherited by the War Office’s Armed Forces Services containing “German Record cards of British and Commonwealth Prisoners of War and some Civilian Internees, Second World War,” found in Catalogue WO (for War Office) 416 are pertinent. Three entries related to Heinz Löwenstein, or his alias “Henry Goff,” can be found in this dossier. The National Archive website provides a summary of these German Record cards, but Brian obtained complete copies of the originals, which form the basis for the detailed synopsis he compiled of Heinz’s wartime activities.
The most informative German Record card in terms of tracking Heinz Löwenstein’s movements during the war is record number WO 416/412/223 (Figure 4a-d), alternately referred to as his Personalkarte, his personnel card. This card includes his picture, his father’s first name, his mother’s maiden name, his religion, and his date and place of birth, all previously known to me, confirming this was my father’s first cousin. Unknown to me was his service number (i.e., 8576), his service (i.e., Palestinian Army), the regiment or squadron he was a member of (i.e., Corps of Signals), his profession (i.e., electrician), the place he was captured (i.e., Greece), the date of his capture (29th April 1941), his POW number (i.e., 8576), and the camp name and number where he was initially interned (i.e., Stalag XVIIIA which was located in Wolfsberg, Austria).
Prior to being contacted by Brian, I’d already learned that Heinz married a divorcee named Rose Nothmann, née Bloch in Danzig, Germany [today: Gdańsk, Poland] on the 22nd of October 1931; interestingly, she was eleven years his senior. An illegible notation in the upper righthand corner of the marriage certificate indicates they got divorced, an event I assumed had taken place in Danzig. However, from Heinz’s Personalkarte where he named his wife Rose Löwenstein living in Palestine as his next of kin, I now realize the divorce likely took place after Heinz returned from the war.
Another thing I concluded from Heinz’s Personalkarte is that he and his wife moved to Palestine from Danzig where he enlisted in the English Army, probably in around 1935. Two POW lists published, respectively, in September 1944 (Figure 5) and April 1945 (Figure 6) indicate the regiment/unit/squadron Heinz was a member of, “3 L. of C. Sigs.” This refers to the “3 Line of Communication Signals [Royal Corps of Signals, often simply known as Royal Signals].” For readers, like me, unfamiliar with the work of this squadron, this unit is responsible for providing full telecommunications infrastructure for the Army wherever they operate. Signal units are among the first deployed, providing battlefield communications and information systems essential to all operations.
As mentioned above, Heinz’s Personalkarte shows he was captured on the 29th of April 1941 in Greece. Before discussing where he is likely to have been captured, let me provide readers with a general overview of the Battle of Greece. This battle, also known as the “German invasion of Greece” or “Operation Marita,” was the attack of Greece by Italy and Germany during World War II. It began on the 28th of October 1940 with the Italian invasion of Greece from the west via Albania, then a vassal state of Italy. Greece, with the help of British air and material support, repelled the initial Italian attack and counterattack in March 1941.
Realizing that the bulk of Greek troops were massed along the Greek border with Albania and that Italy was in trouble, German troops invaded from Bulgaria to Greece’s north on the 6th of April 1941, opening a second front. The Greek Army was quickly outnumbered even with the reinforcement of small numbers of British, Australian, and New Zealand forces. The Greek forces were outflanked by the Germans at the Albanian border, forcing their surrender. British, Australian, and New Zealand forces were overwhelmed and forced to retreat southwards down the Greek peninsula, with the goal of evacuation. For several days, Allied troops were able to delay the German advance, allowing ships to be positioned to evacuate the units defending Greece. Still, by the 27th of April the German Army captured Athens, and reached Greece’s southern shores by the 30th of April. The conquest of Greece was completed a month later with the capture of the island of Crete. An intriguing footnote is that Hitler later blamed the unsuccessful German invasion of the Soviet Union on Mussolini’s failed conquest of Greece.
Knowing that Heinz was taken prisoner on the 29th of April, Brian reasons that he was seized in or near Kalamata on the Peloponnesian peninsula. Based on testimony from others, we know that POWs were quickly moved to a prison compound at Corinth, then shortly thereafter to Salonika. On their way to Salonika, the prisoners stopped briefly in Athens before continuing northwards. However, when they reached the tunnel below the Brallos Pass, north of the town of Gravia, the prisoners had to dismount because the tunnel had been rendered unusable by explosives during the recent retreat by Allied soldiers. Thus began what is referred to as “The March,” the destination of which was the town of Lamia 40 miles north. This involved a long slog uphill, followed by a precipitous downhill walk in unpleasantly hot weather.
A Facebook account about the “Battle of Kalamata 1941” estimates that by September 1941, 12,000 POWs had passed through the “Salonika Transit Camp Frontstalag 183,” on their way to the central Europe Stalags They included many nationalities—Scots, English, Australians, New Zealanders, Serbs, Indians, Palestinian Jews, Cypriots, Arabs, and Greeks. Many of the POWs died, and a few daring ones escaped.
From Heinz’s Personalkarte we know he was initially imprisoned in Stalag XVIIIA in Wolfsberg, Austria after being transported by cattle truck from the Salonika Transit Camp. A different German Record card for Heinz Lowenstein, WO 416/228/460, records his transfer from Stalag XVIIIA in Wolfsberg, Austria to Stalag VIIIB in Lamsdorf on the 28th of July 1941. (Figures 7-8) The earliest date on Heinz’s Personalkarte, German Record card WO 416/412/223, is the 8th of July 1941, which corresponds to the date he was inoculated against typhoid, perhaps upon his arrival at Stalag XVIIIA in Wolfsberg. (see Figure 4b)
Another interesting detail recorded on Heinz’s Personalkarte are the solitary confinements he was made to endure for neglecting or disturbing work operations and for two escapes. Remarkably, Heinz’s escape from work labor camp designated as “E479” in Tarnowitz is recorded in a book by Cyril Rofe entitled “Against the Wind.” Cyril himself escaped from a work camp that was subordinate to Stalag VIIIB on his third attempt, eventually making his way to Moscow before being repatriated via Murmansk. I refer readers to Post 137 for the verbatim description from Cyril Rofe’s book of Heinz’s escape, a compelling read.
Following Heinz’s release from the brig in August 1943 after his third escape, possibly in September 1943 or slightly later, Heinz made a successful fourth escape from Stalag VIIIB/Stalag 344 or one of its subordinate work labor camps. The evidence for this comes from War Office record WO 224/95 (see Post 137, Figures 21a-d) which places him at Camp Siklós in Hungary in November 1943.
Record WO 224/95 is a Visit Report by the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) written on the 16th of November detailing prison conditions at the Camp Siklós Hungarian detention center inspected on the 8th of November 1943. While referred to as Camp Siklós the holding facility had in fact been moved from Siklós to Szigetvár on the 12th of August 1943 due to the poor conditions prevailing at Siklós; Siklós is approximately 39 miles southeast of Szigetvár. Attached to this report is a list of 20 army personnel, presumably all POW escapees, including “Henry Lowenstein.” Based on the Visit Report from the ICRC it is unclear when and where Heinz was arrested in Hungary following his escape from Stalag VIIIB/Stalag 344 (Lamsdorf) but no later than the 8th of November, probably earlier, he was in Hungarian custody. Szigetvár, incidentally, was the castle estate of Count Mihaly Andrassy, and incarceration conditions there were excellent.
The ICRC visit to Camp Siklós (Szigetvár) was conducted in its capacity as a Protecting Power which was formalized in the Geneva Convention of 1929. Protecting powers were allowed to inspect prisoners of war camps, interview prisoners in private, communicate freely with prisoners, and supply books for the prison library.
Let me provide some historical context regarding Hungary’s situation vis a vis Nazi occupation at the time that Heinz was detained there.
In March 1944, Hungary was invaded and occupied by Nazi Germany. Before the Nazi invasion, Hungary had not formally declared war against the United Kingdom, so any British POW escapees, if caught by the Hungarian authorities, would expect no more than internment by Hungary as a neutral power. There was no concern that British POWs would be returned to German control. Based on the existing War Office records, as mentioned, Heinz escaped from Stalag VIIIB in Lamsdorf and somehow made his way to Hungary before the Nazi occupation.
Now we get to the murkiest part of Heinz’s story. From one moment to the next, he went from being known as “Henry Lowenstein” to being “Henry Goff.” (To remind readers, the surname “Goff” was Heinz’s sister’s married name.) As a Hungarian internee, Heinz was known as “Henry Lowenstein,” but at some point, after he was recaptured by the Germans following their invasion of Hungary on the 19th of March 1944, he became known as “Henry Goff.” Exactly when this happened is unclear. The Hungarians knew Henry’s real identity and presumably would have shared this information with the Germans following their takeover of the internment camp at Szigetvár. We know from War Office record WO 416/141/191 (see Post 137, Figure 22) that “Henry Lowenstein” becomes “Henry Goff,” born on the 8th of March 1905 in Manchester, England. Presumably after he becomes Henry Goff, he is also assigned a new POW number, No. 156116. From Heinz’s point of view, the change of surname and birth place was presumably an insurance policy because of his Jewish faith. Together with his new POW number, he presumably thought that his chances of survival improved, although how much danger he was in is uncertain.
WO 416/141/191 record tells us Heinz was returned to the Stalags in Austria after he was recaptured in Hungary. All I knew for certain is that by the 28th of July 1944, Henry Goff was transferred from Stalag XVIIA in Kaisersteinbruch, Austria to Stalag XVIIB in Gneixendorf, Austria. (Figure 9).
Prior to obtaining the recently acquired information, the above formed the basis for what I discussed in Post 137 and Post 137, Postscript. Since these earlier posts, I’ve obtained: excerpts from two books Brian found discussing Heinz; two “Liberation Questionnaires” alluding to Henry Lowenstein and Henry Goff; dossiers from the ICRC related to both Lowenstein and Goff; reference to Henry Lowenstein in a so-called “Mentioned in Despatches,” which would have been a condition of obtaining certain war decorations; a group photo taken in a German Stalag showing Heinz; and more. These documents provide a better picture of Heinz’s movements during the war and a more nuanced understanding of how his actions fit into broader events going on at the time. Let me systematically review these new findings.
Brian Cooper brought to my attention a book entitled “The Double Dutchman: A story of wartime escape and intrigue” by Francis S. Jones. Heinz is prominently featured in this book. Let me review some of the details.
The story is primarily about a New Zealand soldier, captured like Heinz Löwenstein during the Battle of Greece in April 1941, by the name of Roy Natusch. He was interned in Stalag XVIIIA in Wolfsberg, and like Heinz escaped from a work camp with two other internees, Lance-Bombardier David “Dai” Tom Davies and Joe Walker. The work camp from which they fled was located not far from the Hungarian border in a place called Gaas, Austria. (Figure 10) The author does not specify the exact date of their get away, but I place it in the Fall or Winter of 1943. Following their nighttime escape, the three internees tried to get as far into Hungary as possible; they were trying to avoid being recaptured by the German-influenced Hungarian border squads who would have handed them back to the Germans.
Let me reiterate what I previously mentioned. Following the beginning of WWII, the British and Americans declared war on Hungary, an ostensible ally of Germany and Hitler. However, the declaration of war was not reciprocated by the Hungarian government, and as mentioned above, any escaped Allied prisoners who made their way to Hungary were merely incarcerated but not sent back to the Germans. Clearly, this is what happened to Heinz Löwenstein.
While Roy Natusch was only a Corporal, with the agreement of his two companions, he passed himself off as a Captain knowing that if the three were captured by the Hungarians an officer would be better treated. Eventually, the three escapees were in fact arrested by Hungarian police or military, and temporarily interned in Komárom, Hungary, near the then-Czechoslovakian border. Had they avoided capture and internment by the Hungarians, Roy and his traveling companions had always intended to do a dog-leg through Hungary into then-Yugoslavia (i.e., head east into Hungary, then turn southwards towards Yugoslavia), linking up with Tito’s Partisans and being repatriated with the Allies in Italy. This was not to be their fate, at least not immediately.
As an officer, or at least claiming to be one, Roy quickly came to the attention of the only other escaped Allied officer in Hungary, a real officer, the South African Lieutenant Colonel Charles Telfer Howie hiding in Budapest (i.e., Komárom and Budapest are only about 60 miles apart). Along with a Private by the name of Tom Sanders, Howie had escaped from Stalag VIIIA in Lamsdorf [today: Łambinowice, Poland].
While at Komárom, Roy Natusch was visited by a Colonel Utassy from the Hungarian War Office along with a Foreign Service Officer, presumably to be vetted for possible involvement in a plot to change the course of the war. He eventually made his way to Budapest where he met other members of the Hungarian resistance and was introduced to Lt. Colonel Howie. While Howie could have left Hungary and rejoined the Allies, he consciously decided to remain there. Clandestinely, he was working with the various opposition factions in Hungary to switch them from the Axis to the Allied side. This was a particularly precarious undertaking since Budapest and more generally Hungary had Nazi spies everywhere. Moreover, it was an open secret that as soon as the Soviets got anywhere near Hungary, a day which was quickly approaching, the German troops would invade the country and quickly seize Budapest.
At the time Natusch met with Lt. Colonel Howie, Germany had not yet invaded Hungary, however. Howie dispatched Natusch to the detention camp in Szigetvár at Count Andrassy’s castle estate with specific orders that the detained British POWs there not attempt to escape to Yugoslavia, or they would be court-marshalled after the war. Sargeant Major Norman McLean was ostensibly in charge of the soldiers. As noted above, Heinz Löwenstein was among the twenty or so British soldiers confined there and was considered the “intellectual of the camp”; here is where Roy Natusch first encountered Heinz. With Heinz’s nod of approval, the British soldiers put off their escape attempt, a fateful decision, as it turned out. By the time Natusch and Howie made their request, Heinz, the point of contact because of his fluency in multiple languages, had already contacted a local Hungarian who would have facilitated their escape by accompanying them to the Partisans in Yugoslavia. The distance from Szigetvár to the Yugoslav border was less than 15 miles, although the march to reach Partisan lines once inside Yugoslavia was long and dangerous because the Wehrmacht troops were active in the northern part of the country.
The British representatives who were supposed to negotiate with the Hungarian opposition were to be dropped by parachute on the plains near Szigetvár, and the British soldiers were expected to gather the inexperienced parachutists and bring them to Budapest. Howie had assured the British soldiers that in the event of a sudden German invasion, he would notify them by phone and/or send one of his men to warn them so they could quickly flee to Yugoslavia to join the Partisans.
As it turned out, Germany’s sudden invasion of Hungary took place on the 19th of March 1944, and came from three directions, Yugoslavia, Romania, and Germany. As expected, the Wehrmacht immediately headed for Budapest and the internment camp at Szigetvár where they recaptured all the British soldiers, including Natusch and Löwenstein. The warning the soldiers had been awaiting from Lt. Colonel Howie never arrived because the phone lines were immediately cut throughout the country upon Germany’s invasion, and the man Howie sent to warn the soldiers instead decamped for Romania.
Because of Natusch’s knowledge of “The Mission” (i.e., the Allies plan to try and peel off Hungary from the Axis alliance) and the players involved, he was a wanted man. Under torture, Natusch could have divulged the names of no fewer than eleven co-conspirators. For this reason it was imperative he escape the clutches of the Gestapo. Fortunately, he managed to escape at Szigetvár despite being guarded by seven Wehrmacht soldiers. Following his getaway and subsequent travails, he eventually made his way back to Budapest in the company of another British escapee, and reestablished contact with Lt. Colonel Howie who was in hiding. In Budapest, through contacts he had there, he connected with some Dutch soldiers, including a Lieutenant Eddie van Hootegem. The latter would wind up giving him his identity card, so for a period this was his alias. However, when he and two other Dutch officers (Lieutenant Frank Brackel & Lieutenant Joob Sengor) were arrested in Budapest and taken to Buda prison, together they crafted an elaborate explanation for why the purported Dutch soldier “Eddie” was unable to speak Dutch.
Suspicious of his explanation, the Germans transferred Roy Natusch, now Eddie van Hootegem, along with a contingent of almost a hundred Hungarians, Poles, French, and Jews, and non-descripts, by train from Buda prison. The Wehrmacht intended to take Roy/Eddie to an Oflag, a prisoner of war camp for officers established by the Germans during WWII, in Neubrandenburg, about 120 miles north of Berlin. This presented a major problem for Roy since they would ultimately have discovered he was Natusch, not van Hootegem.
On their way to Neubrandenburg (Figure 11), however, the prisoners were unloaded in Stalag XVIIA [Kaisersteinbruch, Austria]. Roy once again had the good fortune to run into Heinz Löwenstein there, who had by now assumed his own alias, the previously mentioned “Henry Goff.” As a side note, Francis Jones, author of “The Double Dutchman,” incorrectly claims Heinz’s alias was “Henry Lewis.” Regardless, Roy had learned from his time in Szigetvár that Heinz was a master forger, so he asked him to prepare a set of papers so that he could pass as an Italian.
Below is how Francis Jones describes the episode and the results:
“Henry Lowenstein appeared a few hours later and got past the guards without difficulty. ‘Here you are, sir,’ he said. ‘It’s finished. He glanced around nervously. ‘Best hide it. I’m not sure about these guards.’ Natusch put the slim package he’d been given into his breast pocket. The Palestinian was as jumpy as a cat. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything for your friends [EDITOR’S NOTE: THE AFOREMENTIONED BRACKEL & SENGOR]’ he went on, ‘but there was only enough material for you.’ Pride of craftsmanship calmed some of Henry’s agitation. ‘You’ll find a passport there, properly stamped,’ he announced, ‘a travel warrant, also stamped, and a couple of letters. You’re Mario Brioni, sir. That’s if you want to be Italian. I’d better go now, sir. Good luck.’ He shook hands with Natusch, gave Frank and Joob a half-bow, and left.
The New Zealander passed the little folder to his two friends without a word and stayed on the alert whilst they examined him it. The verdict came quickly. ‘It’s perfect,’ Frank said slowly. His eyes were wide with admiration. ‘This is first-class work.’ Joob Sengor, taking longer over his examination, agreed, and with that, Natusch was really satisfied. Joob was a protégé of the great Bentinck [EDITOR’S NOTE: A DUTCH FORGER], and a connoisseur of forgery. He put the documents back into his pocket and breathed thanks once again to the ever-helpful Henry Lowenstein.”
What the Germans had failed to do in Budapest, namely check his photo and fingerprint files in Berlin, they would certainly have done in the Oflag in Neubrandenburg; obviously, they would quickly have learned his real identity and turned him over to the Gestapo for interrogation. This meant that Natusch couldn’t risk facing new interrogators and had planned to jump off the train en route to the Oflag and change his identity from Eddie van Hootegem to Mario Brioni, who happened to be a fictitious Italian traveling legitimately. Incidentally, Roy had opted for an Italian surname because he spoke passable Italian and thought he could fool most Germans.
Roy’s intention after he jumped from the train was to travel in the opposite direction along the same line from Stettin [today: Szczecin, Poland] towards Hegyeshalom, near the Austrian-Hungarian border. Stettin lay 30 miles east of Neubrandenburg, which made the revised journey feasible. Roy was concerned that if his luck failed some attentive German might check and discover there was no such person as Mario Brioni. If this happened, he knew that he could no longer be Eddie van Hootegem, a Dutchman who didn’t speak Dutch, and certainly not be himself. Henry Lowenstein again came to his rescue and offered him his own identity since he now went by Henry Goff. Roy jumped at the offer, so Lowenstein gave him his identity tag. This was the last interaction between Heinz and Roy documented by Francis Jones.
As fate would have it, when Roy jumped off the train at the stop before Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland], he was seriously hurt. Knowing he would be recaptured because of his injuries he ditched the identifications for both Mario Brioni and Henry Lowenstein. He was arrested at the train station near Breslau by one of the three guards escorting him to the Dutch Oflag in Neubrandenburg. On the 2nd of August 1944 two guards from there came to collect Roy. Because his Hungarian civil papers were in order, upon his arrival in the Oflag he continued to pass himself off as Eddie van Hootegem. However, eventually he gave up the ghost and admitted to his interrogators that he was Roy Natusch, an escapee from Stalag XVIIIA in Wolfsberg. Fortunately, the Germans didn’t immediately make the connection that he was wanted by the Gestapo; consequently, they sent him back to Stalag XVIIIA where he’d originally escaped from years before. Knowing he was still in danger, he quickly had himself assigned to a work party in a place called Radkersburg near the Yugoslavian border. With help from the Hungarian resistance, he escaped across the border and after a dangerous journey through German lines reached the Partisans. From there he was eventually repatriated in Italy.
I’ve gone into so much detail about Roy Natusch because his story sheds a lot of light on Heinz Löwenstein/Henry Goff.
Another book published in 2016 citing Heinz was co-authored by David “Dai” Tom Davies, the Lance-Bombadier with whom Roy Natusch originally escaped from Stalag XVIIIA, and Ioan Wyn Evans. In the book, entitled “All for Freedom – A true story of escape from the Nazis,” he writes of Heinz during his time in Szigetvár:
[Page 101] “There was an exceptionally interesting character in our midst. A French Jew named Henry Lowenstein. Extremely able, he spoke many languages, but his greatest accomplishment was his ability to forge documents. He could make copies of official documents that would look every bit as authentic as the originals.”
[Page 103} “We needed to utilise Henry Lowensten’s forging skilled to make passports. We went to a photography shop in Szigetvar where two Jewish women very kindly took our pictures, free of charge. Lowenstein then made passports for us. We were given those so that we had ‘official documents’ if we were stopped by the authorities at any time.”
The reference to passports would presumably have been some type of Hungarian identity card rather than what we commonly call a passport. The German occupation of Hungary obviously forestalled their use as all the British escapees in Szigetvár were retaken on the 19th of March 1944. Upon their recapture, Davies and the other internees were sent to Dulag 172 in Zemun, Yugoslavia [German: Zemlin/Semlin] near Belgrade [today: Zemun, Serbia]. (Figure 12)
“We were taken to a place called Zemun. This was a Nazi concentration camp on the outskirts of Belgrade. Without a shadow of a doubt, it was the most awful place I had ever seen. Yes, I’d been held in pretty miserable places before. But they were nothing like this. Everywhere else paled into insignificance compared to Zemun.
It was difficult to comprehend what happened there and what would happen. It is absolutely impossible to describe Zemun to anyone who hasn’t been there, felt it, and smelled it. For me, this was simply hell on earth. The Nazi’s name for Zemun was Semlin, and it was located on the site of the old Belgrade Exhibition Grounds. There were several large buildings there known as pavilions. The Nazis had first taken people there to be incarcerated in 1941. At that time it was a Judenlager, a camp where the Jewish people were imprisoned. Thousands of Jews had been taken there, men, women and children. They weren’t guilty of any crimes, of course. They had simply been taken there because they were Jews, and Hitler hated them. And the horrible truth was that once the Jews arrived at Zenum, there was little chance they would leave alive.
The Nazis had these gas vans, also known as death vans. Cruelly, they would pile about 80 to 100 Jews at a time, including elderly people and young children, into the back of the large vans, and they would expose them to a poisonous gas which would kill them. Can you imagine such a thing? Apparently, 6,300 Jews were killed at Zemun between Marh and May 1942. That was just cold-blooded, inhuman cruelty.
After they had killed almost every single Jew to enter Zemun, the Nazis changed the camp status. From the middle of 1942 onwards it became an Anhaltelager, a camp where political prisoners were held. These were mostly Partisans from Yugoslavia, who now supported the Allies in the war. In truth, these people weren’t politically active. They were just ordinary Serbians from different parts of Yugoslavia. Many of them had just helped Partisan soldiers by offering them food or giving them shelter overnight, whilst several of them were just families and old people who happened to live in villages where there was support for the Partisans. They weren’t guilty of any real crimes.
By the time that we reached Zemun in March 1944 there were people of all ages and backgrounds there, many of them women and children. There were some Jewish people, but not many.
In the block where we were held, there wasn’t even a roof over our heads. To all interests and purposes, we were outdoors, exposed to the elements. In terms of hygiene and sanitation it was awful. I can’t remember seeing a single toilet there. It was absolutely disgusting. The stench was unlike anything I’d come across before – a potent mixture of the worst odours of life mixed with the unmistakable, lingering aroma of death.
As you can imagine, there was little food, and what we were given was incredibly bad. I remember a very weak cabbage soup, which looked like dirty water and tasted even worse. There was the odd scrap of stale bread, and tiny amounts of water. But there was nothing that was remotely nourishing. Nothing. People were starving there. Every single day there were several deaths. People were just dying on their feet.
There were scenes of unfathomable cruelty. I remember one day seeing a woman with a baby queuing for some food and holding a small bowl. When she got to the front, she was given a few drops of that horrible cabbage soup. Starving, she turned to the officer, and asked if she could have some more. But, instead of giving the young mother an extra spoonful, the officer knocked the bowl out of her hand and laughed in her face. Those of us waiting behind the woman were incensed by what we saw, and it was only the presence of heavily armed guards that prevented a riot. The sad truth was, though, that no one could really challenge these guards. Such bravery would have been folly: we would probably have been shot dead there and then. The only way we could help the young mother was by offering her some of the contents of our own meagre bowls. The poor woman didn’t get much, but it was better than nothing, and it was some kind of moral support.
It was little wonder that many lost their heads in such an atmosphere. Some poor desperate souls would run at the large wire fences and try to clamber over. Such attempts were futile, however. As they struggled to gain footholds on the fence, they were unceremoniously shot in the back. Very often the guards would leave their bodies there to decay, a reminder and warning to others who harboured similar thoughts of escape. The message was clear and stark. There was no way out.
We were kept in the block with no roof for several days, before a dozen or so of us were moved to another area of the camp. It was still unpleasant.”
While Zemun is today located in Serbia, according to Dai Davies the camp guards were Croatians. During an air raid that took place on the 16-17 April 1944, Davies escaped with three other internees. Like Ray Natusch, all were eventually repatriated to Italy via southern Yugoslavia.
Let me return briefly to the puzzling question of when Heinz Löwenstein possibly adopted the name Henry Goff. Brian Cooper believes this took place after Heinz arrived in Dulag 172. As the war went on, Brian knows from other cases that the German paperwork system broke down presenting Heinz with an opportunity to take on an alias. One must also remember that Heinz was a master forger, and there’s no reason to believe he wouldn’t have created a set of papers for himself bearing the Henry Goff name.
We know from the Visit Report the ICRC made to Szigetvár that Heinz was known to Hungarian authorities as Henry Lowenstein. We also know that the Germans headed straight to Szigetvár on the 19th of March 1944 after they invaded Hungary. No doubt, the Germans would have been told by the Hungarians the names of the POWs being detained there, so Heinz was no doubt still known as Lowenstein then. I also know from a prisoner card I obtained from the ICRC (see discussion below) that on the 24th of March 1944 he was transferred from Szigetvár under the name of Henry Lowenstein.
Aware of the potential dangers of being returned to German “care,” he probably decided to become Henry Goff if the opportunity arose. He would have let his fellow detainees know his alias. I assume he would have gotten rid of his German POW dog tag with his actual name and POW number from Lamsdorf to make it harder to trace him in the German war records. However, Francis Jones tells us on pages 151-52 that Lowenstein gave his Heinz Löwenstein dog tag to Ray Natusch when they briefly met again in Stalag XVIIA in Kaisersteinbruch, Austria after their escape and recapture. Perhaps Heinz was able to retain and hide his original dog tag? It seems Heinz only got his new POW number upon his arrival at Stalag XVIIIA (Wolfsberg) from Dulag 172 when he was telling the Germans that he was Henry Goff and before he was transferred to Stalag XVIIA.
Support for the notion that Henry Lowenstein became Henry Goff at Dulag 172 comes from a “Liberation Questionnaire” completed after the war by a Robert Vivian Sunley, one of the British POWs at Szigetvár. He writes:
“After removal from Hungary we were taken to Dulag 172 Belgrade and imprisoned. Following an American Bombing Raid I attempted an escape in the company of Pte Heinrich Lowenstein, a Palestinian of the Signal Corps then under the name of Henry Goff. We were spotted by the guard and fired upon, narrowly escaping death, and returned to closed imprisonment.”
Corporal Joseph Crolla was interned with Heinz in Szigetvár. Following the war, he also completed a “Liberation Questionnaire,” which corroborates some of the detailed information provided above. I quote:
“I went back and collected the other three who we had left to watch our kit. We all filed into the wagon (which was full of salt) except Hall who climbed in through the window after he had put a new seal on the door of the wagon. We were ten (10) days inside the wagon which was pretty tough owing to water difficulties, but between Hall and I in turns we got out of the wagon and found water. On the 4th of December 1942 we arrived at our destination a place called Hegyeshalom (on the Hungarian border) so we got out of the wagon and started walking further into Hungary. We must have walked twenty to thirty miles until we came to a barn where we bedded down for the night. The next morning we were rudely awakened by the farmer who was quite annoyed and scared to find five men sleeping in his hay but we bluffed him for a while by saying we were German soldiers who had wandered over the border while on maneuvers and were trying to find our way back again to Austria but had got lost. He invited us into his house for some breakfast, and at the same time sent his wife for the police (Gendarmes) who after we had a wash and something to eat arrived and took us away to a place called KOMOROM where we got treated not too badly, on Xmas day we were taken to Siklos Vaar, Siklos where we stayed until a Graf Andrassy, Szigetvar Hungary took us to his estate and gave us our freedom. We lived with this Graf until the Germans occupied Hungary on the 19th of March 1944, during this time there arrived two officers (at different times) first to come was a Colonel Howie (South African captured at Tobruck) and secondly a Captain Natusch (British, captured at Tunis). [EDITOR’S NOTE: ACCORDING TO FRANCIS JONES, ROY NATUSCH WAS CAPTURED IN KALAMATA, GREECE IN APRIL 1941 (p. 165)] Colonel Howie gave an order that anyone attempting to escape would find themselves on a Court Martial when returning to England. He also promised us that he would at least give us twenty (24) four hours warning if the Germans invaded Hungary so we could get away to Yugoslavia to join the Partisans as he had arranged everything for us, but without any warning the Germans walked into Hungary at 5:30 in the morning and recaptured all of us except Colonel Howie who was in Budapest at the time. Captain Natusch escaped that night although he had an escort of 7 Germans with Tommy guns, the Germans didn’t waste much time with the rest of us for before we knew what was happening we were on our way to a Dulag at Semmlin just across the River Sava from Belgrade, we had not a chance to get away as were heavily guarded until Easter Sunday (April 27 1944) when the Americans bombed our camp killing about 1500 prisoners of war (Italians and Serbs) during the raid that night five of us managed to get away (George Ratcliffe, Chestshires, John McAteer A.& S.H., John Martin Australian, Harry Grant Australian, and myself) but after two days of walking through bog country we walked into an Anti-Aircraft post and were recaptured, the Germans took us back to our camp the next day after a bit of trouble as the Croat people wanted to hang us as they thought we were American airmen, so after a bit of stone throwing and spitting we managed to get clear of the area, which was bombed to the ground. When we got back to the camp about midday there was another air raid on so for punishment, we were not allowed to go into the trenches but had to stand up out in the open with guards in the trenches round about us with orders to shoot to kill if any of us tried to make a break, they also took our boots and trousers from us. That same night McAteer and I got away again but were caught the very next morning by a German patrol and taken back to camp which was a blazing inferno, and the huts which were not on fire we soon put a match to them. A few days later all of us (about 12 British and 8 or ten American airmen) were put into a wagon (after removing our boots and trousers) and taken to Stalag 17A. Kaisersteinbruch Austria where we all got a severe interrogation then locked up together in a shed away from the other British P.O.W’s During our stay at the Stalag we met Brigadier Davies and a Colonel or Captain Verral with ten or eleven other officers (British and American) one of them had his legs broken and was refused medical aid. These officers told us they were going to Berlin for interrogation.”
Knowing the ICRC had visited Camp Siklós (Szigetvár) in its capacity as a Protecting Power, Brian suggested I ask them about any documentary materials they might have in their archives on Heinz Löwenstein/Henry Goff. Because of the large number of archival searches they are asked to do, one can only submit applications by email twice a year on specific dates. I applied in September 2023, and the ICRC responded in December with information on BOTH Heinz and Henry. I attach the summaries sent by the ICRC (Figures 13-14) and will highlight a few new things I learned.
The ICRC staffer handling my application told me that in her 20 years of working there, she’d never come across a case like the one involving my father’s first cousin, and the Houdini act he orchestrated in adopting an alias and thus having two dossiers on file with the ICRC. Because the ICRC contact took a personal interest in my request, she even discovered materials that had been misfiled citing Heinz.
The documents include a letter dated the 19th of June 1941 (Figure 15), written by the Greek Red Cross to the ICRC in Geneva which lists British militiamen who are POWs in Greece and who are interned in Goudi (Athens) concentration camp. The list includes “H. Loewenstein,” says he’s in good health, and gives the name of his wife living in Jerusalem, Palestine as the person to be notified of his status.
One prisoner card shows the precise date that Henry Lowenstein, as his name was then written, was interned in Camp Siklós, the 24th of October 1943. (Figure 16) A different prisoner card dated the 8th of December 1943 seems to suggest he was transferred to the castle estate of Count Andrassy in Szigetvár on the 16th of November 1943. (Figure 17) An attached document of British POWs on the estate of Count Andrassy at that time lists 16 individuals, including Henry Loewenstein, with an extra “e.” (Figure 18)
Yet another prisoner card shows Henry was transferred from Szigetvár on the 24th of March 1944, five days after the Germans invaded Hungary. (Figure 19) A list of POWs from that exact date includes 24 names (Figure 20), including “Captain” Roy Natusch, who we know escaped during the transfer. We also know from Dai Davies’ book that the British POWs were transferred from Szigetvár to Dulag 172 outside Belgrade, Yugoslavia; the distance between these places is approximately 225 miles.
The ICRC accompanied by a representative from the Hungarian Red Cross visited Szigetvár on the 24th of January 1944, and submitted a report written in French on the conditions there, which were described as excellent. Some interesting details can be gleaned from this report. There were no Hungarian guards, only two soldiers who were administrative liaisons to Camp Siklós. Prisoners were free to wander close by, but they needed special authorization to roam more widely. The POWs were paid 5 Pengös a day with 2 Pengös a day deducted for food. Roy Natusch is mentioned in this report, stating that he had excellent lodgings in the Count’s manor. The report paints a unique picture of how POWs were humanely treated by Count Andrassy.
The ICRC sent a prisoner card (Figure 21) for Henry Goff dated the 29th of June 1944 indicating his transfer from Stalag XVIIA (Kaisersteinbruch, Austria) to Stalag XVIIB (Gneixendorf, Austria). Trivially, this tells us that Henry’s last encounter with Roy Natusch, which took place upon Roy’s transfer from Budapest to Neubrandenburg with a layover in Stalag XVIIA, had to have occurred before the end of June 1944.
Brian Cooper is a real wizard at unearthing and sleuthing out military documents and first-hand accounts from various archives, books, etc. One day he sent me a picture (Figure 22) he came across on Facebook, of all places, captioned as follows: “The Israeli Jewish soldiers of the UK Pioneers Corps in a photo taken in Lamsdorf (unknown date between 1941 and 1944).” He suggested I check each of the faces to see if Heinz might be among them. Astonishingly he is! He is the individual seated in the front row on the far left. Even though he was only between 36 and 39 years of age at the time, clearly internment made him look much older.
If this picture was indeed from Lamsdorf, I can narrow the period when it was taken to between the 28th of July 1941, when Heinz was transferred from Stalag XVIIIA (Wolfsberg, Austria) to Stalag VIIIB (Lamsdorf) and his final escape from Lamsdorf in Fall or Winter of 1943. Following his recapture in Szigetvár, Hungary, and his return to Austria in 1944 via Dulag 172 (Zemun, Yugoslavia) to Stalag XVIIA (Kaisersteinbruck, Austria) and Stalag XVIIB (Gneixendorf, Austria), he was never returned to Lamsdorf, so the picture was not taken in 1944.
Another item of interest Brian found for Henry Lowenstein was a reference to him in a so-called “mentioned in despatches,” under the dossier WO 373/103/370. (Figure 23)
The man who likely recommended this award for Heinz was Sergeant Major Norman McLean, ostensibly the senior military POW at Szigetvár prior to “Captain” Roy Natusch’s arrival. From McLean’s account, we can confirm that Heinz Löwenstein escaped from captivity four times, not including his short-lived escape from Dulag 172. Given his skill as a forger, Brian and I both wonder why he was allowed to escape Lamsdorf? One would think the camp leadership would have valued him more for his skills forging documents than risking his life on the lam, particularly as a Jew.
With this observation, I conclude this very lengthy and involved post. I’m not optimistic I’ll learn much more about Heinz Löwenstein’s daring exploits during the war. However, there’s always a chance of uncovering additional accounts from some of Heinz’s fellow internees. Another possibility I’m looking into is trying to determine whether the universal legatee in Israel involved in my claim with the French Ministry of Culture, who is one of the heirs to Fedor Löwenstein’s estate via Heinz, may have inherited a diary, documents, or photos from him. Hope springs eternal.
REFERENCES
Davies, D.T.A. & Ioan Wyn Evans. All for Freedom: A True Story of Escape from the Nazis. Gomer Press, 2016.
Jones, Francis S. The Double Dutchman: A story of wartime escape and intrigue. The Dunmore Press Limited, Palmerston North, New Zealand, 1977.
Rofe, Cyril. Against the Wind. 1st ed., Hodder & Stoughton, 1956.
Note: A page from an 1845 book by Johann Knie translated by one of my cousins discussing trade and commerce in Ratibor (today: Racibórz, Poland) at the time includes a discussion of the regional railway companies involved and the route by which the train arrived in town. The places mentioned provide an opportunity for me to introduce unfamiliar readers to the Meyers Gazetteer, a compilation of German Empire (1871-1918) place names and maps, to better visualize things.
It doesn’t come naturally to me to be curious. My parents were not patient people who would encourage nor answer an endless stream of innocent queries. This line of questioning was quickly squelched. I admire people to whom this trait comes instinctively, who grew up in a more nurturing and cerebral environment. This may explain why I go into more detail on matters of historical context than readers may be interested in knowing. Readers can decide for themselves how much of a topic they want to learn about.
With the above as backdrop, I want to discuss one valuable resource I stumbled upon while doing my ancestral research, the so-called Meyers Gazetteer. Various references to it can be found on the Internet, including links to the database on ancestry.com and familysearch.org. Consequently, I hesitated to write a post about it. However, because I so frequently find myself returning to this compilation of German Empire (1871-1918) place names and maps, it occurred to me it might be valuable for others unfamiliar with this website to be aware of it. In this post I’ve chosen to illustrate using the arrival of the railroad in Ratibor in January 1846 as an example a potential use of the historic maps in the Meyers Gazetteer to better visualize the placement of the railroad; this is done in conjunction with contemporary Google maps.
I’ve previously explained to readers that most of Silesia (Figure 1) where my immediate family hails from is no longer part of Germany. Most of Silesia was given to Poland as compensation after WWII (Figure 2) following Poland’s loss of a much larger swath of land to the USSR in then-eastern Poland, land that is today part of the Ukraine. With Poland’s acquisition of German Silesia, the German town names were all changed to Polish place names that often make it difficult to locate the former German towns on present-day maps. This is where the Meyers Gazetteer is inordinately useful if the former German town name can be found in the database.
The idea for this post came to me recently after asking one of my fourth cousins, Helen Winter, nee Renshaw (Figure 3) from Wolverhampton, England, if she could briefly explain to me the contents of one page from an 1845 book by Johann Knie talking about Ratibor. The text is printed in Fraktur, Black Lettering, that Helen has gained some aptitude reading of late. (Figure 4)
I did not specifically ask for a transcription nor translation. On my own, I figured out the text addressed primarily trade and commerce in Ratibor in around 1845 so felt a summary would be adequate for my purposes. However because Helen took it as an intellectual challenge, an exquisitely done transcription and translation is what I received. And I’m thrilled Helen provided this because unexpectedly part of the text discussed the route by which the railway arrived in Ratibor and the various regional railway companies involved in its construction.
Because multiple German town names were mentioned and I was having trouble visualizing the route, I turned to the Meyers Orts- und Verkehrs-Lexikon des Deutschen Reichs, the “Meyers Geographical and Commercial Gazetteer of the German Empire.” As ancestry.com points out “This gazetteer of the German Empire is the gazetteer to use to locate place names in German research. It was originally compiled in 1912. This gazetteer is the gazetteer to use because it includes all areas that were part of the pre-World War I German Empire. Gazetteers published after WWI may not include parts of the Empire that were lost to bordering countries. Overall, this gazetteer includes more than 210,000 cities, towns, hamlets, villages, etc.”
They further note that “Gazetteers are very important to use when doing family history research. They not only help you pinpoint a specific place and associate them with the jurisdictions to which they belong, but they can also provide interesting facts about the community and help you to know where to look for additional records. For example, from Meyers Orts you may learn about the size of the town, if there was a post office, where the nearest train station was located, and where the civil registration office was located.”
The meyersgaz.org website, the portal I primarily use for searching German Empire town names, further remarks: “This is the most important of all German gazetteers. The goal of the Meyer’s compilers was to list every place name in the German Empire (1871-1918). It gives the location, i.e. the state and other jurisdictions, where the civil registry office was and parishes if that town had them. It also gives lots of other information about each place. The only drawback to Meyer’s is that if a town did not have a parish, it does not tell where the parish was, making reference to other works necessary.”
On the homepage of meyersgaz.org they note you’ll find a search box in which you type the name of your place using the following conventions:
You can use a wildcard * (an asterisk) in your search. For example, “*gheim” will return “Balgheim, Bergheim, Bietigheim, Billigheim” and anything else that ends in “gheim.”
You can type only the beginning of a name and it will return all places that begin with those letters. For example, “Neu” will return “Neu Abbau, Neu Abschwangen, Neuacker, Neuafrika,” etc.
You do not need to include umlauts; “Munchen” and “München” will return “München.” You can type umlauts if you wish, but you should not expand umlauts, e.g. “ü” as “ue,” as that will return no hits.
A list of identically named places will appear within different jurisdictions, allowing you to identify the town you’re interested in.
As meyersgaz.org further notes, on the “Entry” page the following will be found:
You will see the name of your town and a menu that includes the following items: Entry, Map, Ecclesiastical, Related, Email, and Feedback.
You will see the entry as it appears in Meyer’s, the extraction of the entry, the explanation of the extraction, and a map. The extractions include and are primarily limited to jurisdiction and parish information. The explanations are helpful for those who do not speak German or are not familiar with the old jurisdictions. For example, you will learn what Kreis, Bezirkskommando, and Landgericht mean.
By clicking on “View entry on PDF of the original page,” you can see the entire page on which the entry appears in the original gazetteer.
Click on “Show previous and next entry” to see the previous and following entries. If there was a correction in the Meyer’s addendum, this will also be noted.
Meyersgaz.org remarks that by clicking on “Map” in the menu or on the map itself, additional information can be found:
You will now see your town on the old Karte des deutschen Reiches. This set of maps was produced during the time of the German Empire and so corresponds chronologically to Meyer’s.
You can zoom in and out and the maps can be moved around with the mouse, so you can easily extend the search further around the main town.
If you click on the words “Toggle Historical Map” in the upper right-hand corner, you can switch to Google Maps. This is especially helpful if you are searching in Poland or other areas of the former German Empire that are now in other countries. This is because you can get the current, i.e. non-German, name of the town.
If you hover on “Toggle Historical Map,” you will see a menu. If you click on the menu items, you will see pins appear on the map that correspond to what you have chosen, either Jurisdiction (all places where other jurisdictions are given, such as Kreis, Bezirkskommando, and Landgericht that are included in the entry), surrounding Standesämter (civil registry offices), Catholic parishes, Protestant parishes, or Jewish synagogues. This will help you determine the location of the nearest parishes, etc., within a 20-mile radius, should you need to do an area search. You can also click on the pins and the names of corresponding towns will appear.
You may also see a map with a large red circle instead of a pin. This means that the place has not been geocoded yet and a specific place on the map has not been identified, but it falls within the area of the red circle.
Interested readers are encouraged to access meyersgaz.org website and try out the site for themselves. The maps have allowed me to track down the location of German towns now located in Poland I would otherwise have had great difficulty finding. With respect to the ensuing discussion, I will partially illustrate this using the arrival of the railroad in Ratibor in 1846. I would add that my interest in the coming of train service to Ratibor is related to when the family establishment in Ratibor, the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel, was constructed; I believe the two events are closely interconnected and that the family enterprise opened in 1846 or soon thereafter.
Helen Winter’s German transcription of the page from Johann Knie’s 1845 book about the route by which the railroad arrived in Ratibor is as follows:
Die meist schlechte Beschaffenheit der von hier aus führenden Strassen wirkt hemmend auf den Landhandel, namentlich auf den Transito-Verkehr. Um so wichtiger muss für Ratibor die gelungene Anlegung der gleich anfangs erwänten Wilhelms Eisenbahn werden, da sie die Verbindung bilden wird, zwischen der Oberschlesien, oder Breslau-Krakauer Eisenbahn u[nd] der österreichischen von Wien nach Krakau führenden Ferdinands-Rorhbahn, sodass Ratibor die natürliche Zwischenstation alles Personen- und Güter-Verkehrs auf der Eisenbahnlinie von Breslau nach Wien sein wird. Das Privilegium der Bahn ist in der preuss[ische] Gesetz[es]S[ammlung] für 1844, Seite 127-146 nachzulesen. Ihre Entstehung verdankt dieses Unternehmen den Oberschlesien, welche seit 1840 in den öffentlichen Blättern, dann durch Gründung eines Aktien-Bereins dahin strebten, die oberschlesische oder breslaukrakauer Eisenbahn-Gesellschaft auf der Unrichtigkeit des erst gewählten Traktus von Oppeln über Malapane [?? ic ??] nach der russische Grenze, aufmerksam zu machen u[nd] den Bemühungen des königl[iches] Regierungs-Presidenten Grafen Pückler auch gelungen, die oberschlesische Bahngesellschaft zu dem Entschlusse zu bestimmen, von Oppeln aus in der Richtung von Kandrzin bis Kosel u[nd] erst von da in östlicher Richtung über Gleiwitz nach Krakau zu bauen, dadurch wurde es möglich, Kandrzin bei Kosel auch als Anfangspunkt für die Wilhelms-Eisenbahn zu gewinnen. Die Bahn geht von Kandrzin rechts der Oder aufwärts bis Ratibor u[nd] hier mittelst der Stromǔberbrückung zu den links zwischen der Oder u[nd] der Stadt gelegenen Bahnhofe. Diese erste Bahnstrecke beträgt 3 7/8 M[eilen]; ihre Fortsetzung am linken Ober-Ufer bis zu dem wahrscheinlichebn End[gangspunkte] und berübergangspunkte 3 3/8 M[eilen]. Die Erdarbeiten zwischen Kandrzin u[nd] Ratibor sind beinahe gänzlich [EDITOR’S NOTE: gönzlich is, I think, a misprint], die bis Oderberg zum grossen Theil vollendet. Der Brückenbau wird mit allem Nachdruck betrieben; bereits sind die meisten Kammarbeiten vollendet. Die Schwellen sind sämmtlich an der Bahn 30,000 Ctnr. englische Schienen seit dem 1[rste] September 1844 noch mit niederem Eingangszoll beschafft u[nd] der bei schles[ischen] Hütten bestellte Uebrrest grösstenteils auch schon geliefert; so das bei günstiger Witterung die Bahn bis Oktober 1845 wird befahren werden können. Der Bahnhof ist zwischen Oder u[nd] Stadt auf der, für Entwickelung des Verkehrs günstigsten Stelle errichtet u[nd] eilt seine Vollendung ebenfalls entgegen. Die Stadt gabt dazu 15 Morg[en] u[nd] zur Bahnlinie auf dem 3/8 Meilen langen, stäbtischen Terrain ebenfalls circa 10 Morg[en]- Land[es] , welches ein Opfer von 7000 R[eichs]t[ha]l[er] erheischte. Die Abbrechung eines Hauses u[nd] die Erwerdung des zu mehreren Strassen erforberlichen Terrains, so wie der Ausbau dieser Strassen wird der Stadt eben so viel kosten. Die Stadtverordneten-Bersammlung hat nicht angestanden diese Opfer im wohlerwogenen Interessender Kommune dem Direktorium der W[ilhelm] B[ahn] nicht nur zu bringen, sondern selbst anzubieten, weil nur dadurch die Gesellschaft bewogen worden ist, den Baufond um mehr als 150,000 R[eichs]t[ha]l[er] zu erhöhen, um hier bei der Stadt vom rechten auf das linke Oberufer überzugehen u[nd] den Bahnhof an den Stadtmauern erbauern zu können, wärend derselber sonst rechts der Oder, fast 1/2 Meile von hier, erbaut worden wäre. Der Anschluss an die Nordbahn erfolgt dicht bei Oderberg, für die nächsten Jahre mittelst gewöhnlichen Fuhrwerkes; dann aber mittelst Zweiges der Nordbahn von circa 800 Ruth[e] Das Anlage-Kapital für die ganze Wilhelm [Bahn] beträgt statutenmässig 1,200,000 R[eichs]t[ha]l[er].
Below is the translation of the above text with footnotes about the various railway companies involved in construction of the railroad in and around Ratibor; Prussian units of measure; and Prussian currency:
“The mostly poor condition of the roads leading from here has an inhibiting effect on overland trade, especially on transit traffic. It must be all the more important for Ratibor that the connecting route, projected at the very beginning of the Wilhelms-Eisenbahn [Wilhelmsbahn (A) or William Railway] should be successfully completed, between Upper Silesia, or the Breslau-Krakauer (Wrocław-Kraków) Railway (B), and the Austrian route from Vienna along the Ferdinands-Nordbahn [Emperor Ferdinand Northern Railway (C)], so that Ratibor will become the natural connecting station for all passengers and goods traffic on the train lines between Breslau and Vienna. (Figure 5) The grant to the Railway is available to read at pages 127 to 146 of the Prussische Gesetzesammlung [Prussian Law Gazette] for 1844. That Company owes its existence to the above named company, which, firstly in the public newspapers, and then by founding a stock corporation, convinced the Upper Silesian, or Breslau-Krakow Railway Company [EDITOR’S NOTE: Upper Silesian Railway Company], of how wrong the originally chosen route, from Oppeln via Malapane (Figure 6) to the Russian border, would have been; the efforts by the royally appointed President of the government, Count Pückler, also succeeded in persuading the Upper Silesian Railway Company to reach the decision to build the line from Oppeln, in the direction of Kandrzin as far as Kosel (Figure 7) and, only from that point, in an easterly direction via Gleiwitz to Krakow, which would make it possible to use Kandrzin, near Kosel, as a starting point for the William Railway. (Figure 8) The railway route goes from Kandrzin, to the right of the Oder, up to Ratibor [EDITOR’S NOTE: meaning upriver as the Oder River flows generally south to north] and here, by means of a bridge across the river, to the station, which is situated on the left bank, between the Oder and the city. This initial railway track is 2 7/8 miles long (D). Its continuation along the upper left bank, up to the probable end of the track and upper crossing point is 3 3/8 miles. The earth works between Kandrzin and Ratibor are now entirely, and those at Oderberg for the most part, completed. The bridge construction is being pursued vigorously; already most of the work on the crest is complete. The sleepers are all on the track; 30,000 Ctnr. (E) of English rails have been procured since 1st September 1844, at a low rate of import duty and most of the remainder, ordered from the foundries of Silesia, have already been delivered; so that, allowing for reasonable weather, the railway can come into use by October 1845. [EDITOR’S NOTE: Train service commenced on the 1st of January 1846] The station, which was being built between the Oder and the city in a location that would facilitate the development of traffic, is also fast approaching completion. The city gave 15 acres of land for the station, and around 10 acres for the railway line on the 3/8 mile long, flat terrain, all of which required the sacrifice of 7,000 Reichsthaler. The City Council did not hesitate, in the interest of the public good, to take some of the financial burden on themselves, rather than expecting the Directors of the William Railway to bear the whole, as this was the only way in which the company could be persuaded to increase the building fund by more than 150,000 Reichsthaler (F), in order that the site of the station could be changed from the right to the left upper bank and that it could be built over the city walls, whereas it would otherwise have been built to the right of the Oder, more than a mile from here. The connection to the Northern Railway will take place close to Oderberg (G) (Figure 9), for the next few years by means of a conventional carriage, then by means of a branch line of the Northern Railway from circa 800 Rods (H) [EDITOR’S NOTE: there seems to be a bit missing in the copy of the book here]. The capital budget for the whole William Railway is fixed by statute at 1,200,000 Reichsthaler.”
(A) The Wilhelmsbahn or William Railway was a private railway company in Prussia. It was founded in 1844 in Ratibor in Upper Silesia to connect the Upper Silesian Railway (Breslau—Oppeln—Kosel–Gleiwitz (Wroclaw—Opole— Koźle—Gliwice)) with the Austrian Emperor Ferdinand’s Railway. The name referred to Prince Wilhelm of Prussia, later the German Emperor Wilhelm I. For the first time, the railway line connected the Austrian railway network with the Prussian one.
(B) Refers to the Upper Silesian Railway Company. In 1842, the Upper Silesian Railway Company, licensed since 1839, opened the first two sections of its main line: Breslau (Wrocław, Poland) to Ohlau (Oława, Poland) (Figure 10) on the 22nd of May and Ohlau (Oława, Poland) to Brieg (Brzeg, Poland) (Figure 11) in August. These are the oldest railway sections of present-day Poland. Step by step the Upper Silesian Railway (Oberschlesische Eisenbahn, OSE) line was extended, in 1846 connecting Katowice. In 1847 Myslowitz (Mysłowice, Poland) at the border of Austrian Galicia was reached and the connection to Kraków and Upper Silesian Railway complete.
(C) The Emperor Ferdinand Northern Railway was a railway company during the time of the Austrian Empire. Its main line was intended to connect Vienna with the salt mines in Bochnia near Kraków. The name is still used today in referring to several railway lines formerly operated by that company.
(D) The distances in miles in the text refer to Prussian miles. One Prussian mile equates to 4.66 U.S. miles or 7.5 kilometers.
(E) “Ctnr.” is the abbreviation for a Prussian “Centner.” A Prussian Centner equates to 113.43 American pounds or 51.448 kilograms. The metric Zentner used today is exactly 50 kilograms or 110.23 American pounds.
(F) Abbreviated “Rtl.,” this refers to a Prussian Reichsthaler. The Reichsthaler was a standard thaler silver coin introduced by the Holy Roman Empire in 1566 for use in all German states, minted in various versions for the next 300 years, and containing 25–26 grams fine silver.
(G) According to Johann Knie, the Wilhelmsbahn connected to the Emperor Ferdinand Northern Railway near Oderberg, shown to the southeast of Ratibor in Figure 9.
(H) The Prussian Ruthe or rod was 12 feet or 3.766 meters.
It is clear from Johann Knie’s 1845 book that, absent Count Pückler’s intervention, the Breslau-Krakauer (Wrocław-Kraków) Railway, that’s to say the Upper Silesian Railway Company, intended to bypass Ratibor in its construction of the railway into Poland. The passage refers to an easterly route from Breslau (Wrocław) to Oppeln (Opole) to a place called Malapane (today: Ozimek) toward Russia which Count Pückler was able to dissuade the Upper Silesian Railway Company from taking. He apparently also convinced the Upper Silesian Railway Company to connect Breslau (Wrocław) to Krakau (Kraków) via Oppeln (Opole), Kosel (also written Cosel; Koźle), Gleiwitz (Gliwice), and Katowice. This was critical because at a place called Kandrzin, just outside present-day Koźle, the Wilhelmsbahn or William Railroad was then able to connect their railway line to the Upper Silesian Railway. Thus, railway passengers could save time when traveling between Breslau and Vienna by avoiding Krakau. We also learn that Ratibor’s City Council donated land and money to offset part of the William Railroad’s construction cost. From Kosel to Ratibor, the tracks ran along the right or east bank of the Oder, then crossed the river near Ratibor via a bridge to the railway station located on the west or left bank of the Oder River, interestingly built over the city walls according to Johann Knie’s text.
In closing I would simply say that the maps and plans in Meyers Gazetteer in combination with contemporary Google maps provide the necessary overview for visualizing how important it was for the small town of Ratibor in the mid-1840s to ensure the railroad passed through town. It enabled the town’s economic expansion and led to the construction of the Bruck’s Hotel sometime between 1846 and 1850.
REFERENCES
Knie, Johann G. (1845). Alphabetisch-statistisch-topographische Uebersicht der Dörfer, Flecken, Städte und andern Orte der Königl. Preuß. Provinz Schlesien.
Note: In a post I’ve long wanted to write, using maps and contemporary accounts, I discuss the history of the property where the inn stood that my family owned from ca. 1850 until 1926 in Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland], the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel. I also make a case for when I think the hotel was likely constructed.
I’ve spilled a lot of ink writing about my next of kin’s business in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland], the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel (Figures 1-2), owned by three generations of my family from roughly 1850 until 1926. My recently departed friend Paul Newerla from Racibórz (Figure 3), a lawyer who found his second calling in retirement researching and writing about the history of Ratibor and Silesia, was very instrumental in furthering my understanding of the hotel’s history and generously sharing multiple historical references and illustrations related to the establishment.
Paul was never able to tell me exactly when the inn was constructed and whether a previous owner had built the structure. For the longest time, I imagined the name “Prinz von Preußen” meant it might have been erected and lived in by a member of the von Preußen family, a royal lineage with longstanding ties to Silesia. Another friend whom I’ve often mentioned to readers, Peter Albrecht von Preußen (Figure 4), a descendant of this illustrious bloodline now living in the United States, explained to me that the “Prinz von Preußen” name was franchised from at least the 19th century. Thus, the Bruck Hotel’s incorporation of the Prinz von Preußen honorific may simply reflect a business arrangement. So far evidence of this has not been found.
One document Paul was unable to track down in theArchiwum Państwowe w Katowicach Oddział w Raciborzu, the State Archives in Katowice, Branch in Racibórz, was the so-called Grundbuch, the land register, for the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel. Grundbuch means the applicable official register held by the Land Registry in which, among other things, the rights of ownership in, and encumbrances on, a plot of land are registered.
In Post 61, I discussed how Paul found the Grundbuch for the Zuckerfabrik, the sugar factory owned by distant family relatives, located in Woinowitz [today: Wojnowice, Poland] outside Ratibor, among the uncatalogued documents in the basement of the Racibórz State Archives. Regular readers know I’ve written multiple posts about the Zuckerfabrik. Had Paul been able to locate the Grundbuch for the Bruck’s Hotel, it might have shed some light on when the building was built and/or exactly when my family purchased the establishment. Whether the file still exists is an unanswered question though I suspect if it did Paul Newerla would have tracked it down.
Another of my Polish friends, Małgosia Ploszaj (Figure 5), from Rybnik, Poland, 15 miles east of Racibórz, was able to find a police file in the Racibórz State Archives related to the Bruck’s Hotel (Figures 6a-b), but this dated to the period that my grandparents, Felix (1864-1927) and Else Bruck (1873-1957), owned the hotel during the first quarter of the 20th century. This file includes reports on periodic inspections conducted by the local police; safety issues my grandparents were compelled to address; authorizations they were required to obtain to operate beyond normal working hours; violations for which they were fined, etc. Nothing in the file related to the history nor tenancy of the hotel prior to my grandparents’ ownership.
My good friend Peter Albrecht von Preußen spent a good deal of time explaining the contents of this police file. Additionally, because of his own family’s connection to Silesia, he spent a lot of time searching publications for mentions of the hotel and the sequential Bruck family members who owned the inn, namely, Samuel Bruck (1808-1863), Fedor Bruck (1834-1892), and Felix Bruck (1864-1927).
One of the most useful public domain sources Peter discovered was a 695-page book entitled “Geschichte der Stadt Ratibor,” “History of the Town of Ratibor,” written by Augustin Weltzel in 1861. (Figure 7) Therein, Peter found mention of a Bruck who was a “gastwirth,” an innkeeper, no doubt Samuel Bruck (1808-1863) the original owner of the Bruck’s Hotel. (Figure 8)
The book is written in Fraktur, which was the subject of Post 154. Unfortunately, the text has not been transcribed into German, nor has it been translated into Polish or English. However, because Peter can read Fraktur, he graciously perused and summarized relevant sections of Weltzel’s book.
This book was commissioned in 1859 by the Protestant Church in Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland], who had searched in the archives and discovered that the history of the entire Upper Silesian region, a principally Catholic area at the time, had not been documented. As a result, Dr. Weltzel, a Catholic Priest, was contracted to write about Ratibor. This seemingly odd arrangement was an indirect outcome of the First Silesian War from 1740 to 1742 which resulted in Prussia seizing most of the region of Silesia (today mostly in southwestern Poland) from Austria but Catholics in Silesia being guaranteed the right to continue practicing their religion.
Based on Peter’s synopsis and analysis, I can reconstruct a partial history of the property where the Bruck’s Hotel was built and theorize when the hotel is likely to have been constructed. Another of my Polish contacts from Racibórz is Magda Wawoczny, an acquaintance in the Jewish Studies program at Jagiellonian University in Krakow, Poland. At my request, she graciously sent me high-resolution plans of Ratibor from 1831 and 1843, as well as a map from 1812 with a birds-eye view of Ratibor and its fortifications, that allow me to clarify using contemporary maps what likely was going on in the area at the time in conjunction with Augustin Weltzel’s description of historic events.
First, a brief digression. I’ve periodically told readers about my “boots on the ground” without whom I would be unable to relate my family stories to the depth I feel is required. As readers can easily tell, I have limited knowledge about many of the subjects I discuss so the assistance of knowledgeable people is crucial. In the case of this post, for example, I felt the need to illustrate with historic maps what Ratibor may have looked like at different points in time to make the case for approximately when the Bruck’s Hotel might have been constructed.
Erroneously recalling there exists a map from 1829 with the Bruck’s Hotel shown, I asked Magda, my student acquaintance from Racibórz, if she could track it down for me. In the process, Magda directed me to a historical portal run by her father, Grzegorz Wawoczny, a historian. The portal includes a post written by a German gentleman, Christoph Sottor, describing the oldest plans of the city of Ratibor. This is how I learned about the 1812, 1831, and 1843 plans of Ratibor mentioned above. This post was very useful and one I encourage readers with an ancestral link to Ratibor to skim:
Historically, Ratibor was a fortified castle-town. The period the Bruck’s Hotel could conceivably have been built is closely related to when the fortifications surrounding Ratibor were dismantled because of the hotel’s proximity to where the protective walls once stood. Let me briefly relate to readers some of the history of the town’s defensive system. The defensive walls have existed in Ratibor since 1299. They were extended in the 14th century, and several fortified towers and three wooden gates were later added. A deep moat was constructed in front of the walls. The curtain walls were reinforced in 1663 in anticipation of a Turkish invasion.
Beginning in the 18th century, the fortifications were gradually eliminated. Between 1764 and 1771 the moat was filled in. According to Weltzel, the wooden gate (Figure 22) of the defensive tower nearest where the Bruck’s Hotel was eventually built was removed in 1825 and relocated to the Ratibor side of the bridge crossing the nearby Oder River; some of the nearby curtain walls were removed but the tower remained.
All that remains of the fortifications today is a Renaissance style tower constructed in 1574 and some remnants of the Gothic curtain walls that abutted this tower. (Figures 9-10) At the apex of the tower, there is an attic with embrasures (sometimes called gun holes) and four turrets. The building provided shelter for the garrison of defenders and was also used as a prison tower.
The removal of the moat, including the gradual elimination of some of the defensive structures, coincides with the end of the Seven Years’ War (1756-1763). Let me say a few words about this conflict.
The Seven Years’ War (1756–1763) was a global conflict involving most of Europe’s great powers that was fought primarily in Europe, the Americas, and Asia-Pacific. Without getting too far into the weeds, suffice it to say the opposing alliances were led by Great Britain and France, each seeking to establish global pre-eminence at the expense of the other. France and Spain fought against England and their ally Prussia in Europe and overseas. Long-standing rivalries pitted these adversaries against one another in North America and the West Indies.
No less a personage than Winston Churchill described the Seven Years War, which went by different names in its respective theaters (e.g., Franch and Indian Wars (1754-1763); War of the Conquest in French-speaking Canada; the Third Silesian Wear (1756-1763) between Prussia and Austria) as the first “world war” because of its global reach.
For purposes of this post, suffice it to say that in Europe, Prussia sought greater influence in the German states (i.e., Prussia and the other German states did not unite to form Germany until 1871) while Austria sought to contain Prussian influence as well as regain Silesia which they’d lost at the end of the First Silesian War in 1742. Austria failed in this regard. Based on Augustin Weltzel’s discussions, it is evident the city’s fortifications suffered heavy damage from cannonball strikes during the conflict.
Perhaps, the end of the war, new economic opportunities, ongoing deterioration of the defensive walls and towers, along with a need to expand the city caused town officials to gradually remove the fortifications and towers.
The address of the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel was Oderstrasse 16. The inn stood on the northwest corner of Oderstrasse where it met Bollwerk Strasse. A 1929 street map of Ratibor includes the hotel’s name and location (Figure 11), while a 1933 plan shows the number “16” on Oderstrasse. (Figure 12) A map from around 1890 indistinctly outlines an area where the Bruck’s Hotel stood that is identified by the number “104,” which may indicate the lot number. (Figure 13) Since I don’t have copies of all Ratibor’s plans, it’s not clear when the hotel was first plotted on a map.
The “Prinz von Preußen” is listed in John Murray’s 1850 “Hand-Book for Travellers on the Continent” as a place for people to stay in Ratibor while voyaging between Breslau and Vienna. (Figures 14a-b) Family ownership of the inn is thought to have begun at around this time.
Next, I’ll discuss a few of the historic maps I had access to, and what they suggest regarding the construction of the Bruck’s Hotel. I’ll also touch on some of Weltzel’s historic accounts for reference.
Let me start by discussing the map that Christoph Sottor dates to 1812 (Figure 15) that I previously described as a birds-eye view of the city with its still-standing fortifications.
“On the newly made plan (in 1812 on the basis of measurements from 1810) the orientation to the west was improved, buildings in towns near Racibórz were described and projections of several buildings in Racibórz itself were marked. The “Situations-Plan von der Stadt Ratibor” covers a smaller area than the 1811 plan and is on a smaller scale, 1 : 7,200. The plan measures 48 cm x 32.3 cm. It was also created by the geometer Andre Wihrheim. The only copy of the plan is in AP Opole, reference number: AP Opole, Rej. Opole. Kart., sign. IX/92. I only have a blurry picture of him.” [EDITOR’S NOTE: “AP Opole” stands for “Archiwum Państwowe Opole,” the State Archives in Opole, Poland]
The main conclusion one can draw from this map is that the defensive towers and curtain walls were mostly still intact in 1812. This means the Bruck’s Hotel, whose approximate location I’ve shown on the map, could not yet have existed at this time since the curtain walls would have impeded its construction.
According to Weltzel, the Bruck’s Hotel was referred to as the “Prinzen von Preußen” (“Princes of Prussia”) rather than “Prinz von Preußen” (“Prince of Prussia”), with no mention of the Bruck surname. He also tells us the property where the hotel was eventually built had previously been owned by the so-called Schützengilde, the shooting club, and sat along Oder Gasse, as Oderstrasse was then known. The Schützengilde had two structures on their property, a Schützenzwinger, or clubhouse, and a Schießstand, or firing range. The clubhouse faced Oder Gasse, while the firing range sat towards the rear of the property closer to the Oder River.
At the time Weltzel was researching his book he had access to the shooting club’s records dating back to 1620. According to these documents the Schützengilde owned the property on Oder Gasse until 1824/25 when they sold it to the city of Ratibor in two transactions; by May 1825 the city had full possession of the entire property. Using the proceeds from the sale of the property, the shooting club purchased another property in town. Seemingly, Weltzel does not discuss how the city used the property following its acquisition.
Peter Albrecht von Preußen uncovered a YouTube video describing the activities of the Schützengilde today featuring none other than my late friend Paul Newerla. While the video is in both German and Polish with subtitles in both these languages, readers can get a general idea of how the shooting club operates today and view some of the antique weapons members fire:
In essence, Paul Newerla says that today the Schützengilde is principally a historical society and functions as a recreational club rather than as a defensive force as it once did. As previously mentioned, the club relocated from Oder Gasse in 1825, but moved again in 1898 to their present location. The existing clubhouse incorporates a tower (Figure 16) that may be a remembrance of the Oder Thor that once stood adjacent to their property on Oder Gasse. According to Paul, the oldest documents the club possesses date to 1925, so he is appealing to anyone that may have older artifacts or memorabilia to contact the club. And finally, we learn the Schützengilde was inoperative from the 8th of May 1945 until 2004, when it was resurrected.
Let me turn now to the two high resolution maps from 1831 and 1843 that Magda sent me and discuss what inferences can be drawn from them. Both plans show two buildings on the property, the 1843 map more distinctly, where the Bruck’s Hotel would eventually be built. On the 1831 map (Figure 17), in the rear structure, that’s to say the shooting range, readers can vaguely make out what Weltzel refers to as a “wall extension” that paralleled the lane where Bollwerk Strasse was ultimately sited. It would appear the firing range incorporated as an extension a fragmentary part of the curtain walls that once surrounded Ratibor.
One thing we can conclude from the 1843 map (Figure 18) is that the Oder Thor, Oder Tower, the tower closest to where the hotel was ultimately built had apparently not yet been demolished, though as previously mentioned the wooden gate had been removed in 1825. The tower is labelled on the map suggesting it was still in place. It’s difficult to know precisely where the Oder Thor was situated relative to the hotel making it hard to know whether it would have impeded construction of the building; however, the defensive curtain walls would assuredly have prevented construction of the inn.
Another thing we can observe from the 1843 ocular map of Ratibor is that if you extend the line that was formerly part of the curtain wall and the extension of the Schießstand, it lines up perfectly with the side of the Oder Thor that was closest to the Oder River.
So, we return to the question of when the Bruck’s Hotel might have been built and what the impetus for doing so would have been. A French travel guide dated 1836 entitled “Manuel du Voyageur en Allemagne” (Handbook for Travelers in Germany), mentions an auberge or inn in Ratibor, “Auberge de Jaeschke.” (Figure 19) Prior to construction of the Bruck’s Hotel this is believed to have been the only guesthouse in Ratibor.
As previously discussed, the “Prinz von Preußen” is mentioned in John Murray’s 1850 publication “A Hand-Book for Travellers on the Continent,” and is described as a “very comfortable hotel.” (see Figure 14b) Clearly, by 1850 the “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel was open for business. This is further confirmed by a concert the famed Austrian composer Johann Strauss delivered on the 17th of October 1850 in the hotel’s concert hall. (Figure 20) A similar recital by Dr. Franz Lizst four years earlier on the 29th of May 1846 was performed at the so-called “Jaschke’schen Saale” (Figure 21), presumably part of the “Auberge de Jaeschke,” indirect evidence the newer and larger Prinz von Preußen concert hall was not yet open.
According to Weltzel, the anticipated arrival of the railroad in Ratibor, which began service on the 1st of January 1846, caused a “building boom” between 1842 and 1850. If the 1843 map is accurate, the Oder Thor still stood at this time, so construction of the hotel post-dates its removal. While there is no smoking gun, the indirect evidence points to the Prinz von Preußen having been built sometime between 1845 and 1847, coinciding with the arrival of the railroad. No doubt regular train service and mention of the Prinz von Preußen in an English travel guide would have accelerated the number of visitors and tourists from Germany, Austria, and far-off places who would have expected modern conveniences. It can only be hoped the hotel’s Grundbuch still exists and is eventually found to definitively answer the question of what year the inn was built.
Knie, Johann G. (1845). Alphabetisch-statistisch-topographische Uebersicht der Dörfer, Flecken, Städte und andern Orte der Königl. Preuß. Provinz Schlesien.
Note: In this post, I present and synthesize some primary source documents I’ve collected proving the existence of my third great-grandparents’ children. A family memoir states they had twelve unnamed children though I can definitively account for only nine of them. I am not surprised given that large families often had children who died at birth or in childhood. I strongly suspect a tenth offspring, the oldest girl, who shows up on several ancestral trees, may have lived to adulthood though I cannot independently prove this. The point of this post is to illustrate the standard to which I hold myself accountable in verifying ancestral data, not simply tell another family story to which readers may not relate.
A distant Bruck relative, Bertha Jacobson, née Bruck (1873-1957) wrote a memoir for her granddaughter, Maria Jacobson (1933-2022). In this memoir, which Maria donated to the Leo Baeck Institute in New York before her death, Bertha notes that my third great-grandparents Jacob Nathan Bruck (1770-1836) and Marianne Bruck, née Aufrecht (b. 1776) had twelve children, though she doesn’t name them. As a challenge to myself, I set out to determine how many of these purported children’s existence I could find proof of in the form of primary source documents, my gold standard. I’ve summarized this data including the source in a table readers will find at the end of this post.
I’ve often admonished followers about cloning ancestral data that one finds on other people’s ancestral trees, especially if source documents are not identified. That said, ancestral trees are sometimes specific enough to direct researchers to other sources that can be independently checked to confirm the veracity of the information in a tree. Below I will give readers an example of how I was able to confirm the burial place of one of Jacob and Marianne’s children in Berlin through data found on an ancestral tree in MyHeritage.
Before delving into the evidence I’ve tracked down for Jacob and Marianne’s children, let me review the vital data I’ve found out about them. In Post 150 I told readers how I discovered my third great-grandfather Jacob Nathan Bruck’s death register listing for Ratibor among the primary source documents digitized by the Upper Silesian Genealogical Society’s “Silius Radicum” project. (Figure 1) The index proved Jacob died in Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland] on the 29th of June 1836 at the age of 66, meaning he was born in 1770. While I’ve been unable to uncover the exact date he was born, the Geneanet Community Tree Index claims Jacob was born on the 18th of February 1770. (Figure 2) Notwithstanding that the source of this data is Michael Bruck, my fourth cousin once removed, I’ve yet to see the source document from which Michael drew this information.
A related aside. Another one of my distant Bruck relatives, Marianne Polborn, née Bruck (1888-1975) developed a family tree which includes some vital information for Jacob and Marianne Bruck. (Figure 3) Jacob’s date of birth matches that found on the Geneanet Community Tree Index. While I’m inclined to believe the 18th of February 1770 was indeed Jacob’s birth, the skeptic in me asks whether Michael Bruck had access to Marianne Polborn’s ancestral tree, so that everyone is copying the same unverified information from a record that is not a primary source document? This is likely a rhetorical question.
I draw readers’ attention to another date on Marianne Polborn’s ancestral tree, namely Jacob and Marianne’s marriage date, specifically, the 16th of May 1793. Given the confirmed dates of birth for some of Jacob and Marianne’s children towards the end of the 18th century and the beginning of the 19th century, this seems like a plausible marriage year. While this tree is the sole unconfirmed source of their wedding, even if Marianne was already pregnant when she and Jacob married, a not uncommon occurrence I’ve learned, their oldest child would likely not have been born much before 1794. The earliest confirmed birth year for any of their children, as I will discuss, is 1796.
Another date I draw readers’ attention to is the purported date of birth of Marianne Aufrecht, the 21st of August 1776.
Marianne Polborn does not specify when Marianne Bruck died, although the Geneanet Community Tree Index claims she died on the 3rd of August 1835. (Figure 4) I believe this is a case of “false precision.” Let me explain. By chance, when scrolling through the Church of Latter-Day Saints (LDS) Family History Library Microfilm Roll Number 7990058 with the names of Jews who died between 1832 and 1838 in Neisse [today: Nysa, Poland], located 54 miles northwest of Racibórz, I stumbled on the death register listing of the “witwe Marianne Bruck” who died at 70 years of age on the 3rd of August 1835; “witwe” means widow. (Figure 5) As discussed above, I know for sure Jacob Bruck died in 1836 so obviously in 1835 Marianne would not yet have been a widow. Also, if Marianne’s birth year was 1776, which I’m inclined to believe, had she died in 1835 she would only have been several weeks short of her 59th birthday. Finally, unless Marianne was visiting Neisse, her death there rather than in Ratibor seems odd.
Often the oldest of Jacob and Marianne’s offspring listed on ancestral trees is Helene Bruck shown married to an Itzig Mendel Guttmann Aufrecht. As I discussed in Post 150, I located Marianne’s death register listing in the Upper Silesian Genealogical Society’s database proving she died on the 20th of May 1838 at the age of 68 (Figure 6), identical to the year Jacob Bruck was born, 1770. Thus, the Helene Bruck married to Itzig Aufrecht was not one of Jacob and Marianne’s children, but more likely Jacob’s cousin. It’s conceivable Jacob and Marianne named their first-born daughter Helene, but I cannot independently verify this nor prove she existed.
Wilhelmine Bruck’s existence is incontrovertible. Proof of her marriage to Wilhelm Friedenstein is found on LDS Microfilm 1184449 showing they got married on the 7th of November 1814 in Ratibor, identifying her father as Jakob Nathan Bruck. (Figure 7) Find-A-Grave shows she was born in 1796 and died in 1864, and is interred in the Stary Cmentarz Żydowski we Wrocławiu, the Old Jewish Cemetery, in Wrocław, Poland. (Figure 8) My friend, Dr. Renata Wilkoszewska-Krakowska, is the Branch Manager of this cemetery and sent me a picture of her headstone giving her precise birth and death dates. (Figure 9) Her husband is not buried alongside her.
Although no birth or death information has so far been uncovered for another of Jacob and Marianne’s daughters, her existence again is irrefutable. According to LDS Microfilm 1184449, Dorothea married Salomon Freund on the 25th of February 1817 in Ratbor, and her father is listed as Jakob Nathan Bruck. (see Figure 7)
Moritz Bruck (1800-1863)
A German book published in 1845 entitled “Gelehrtes Berlin in Jahre 1845,” roughly translated as “Scholarly Berlin in 1845,” includes a biography of Moritz Bruck stating he was born on the 24th of December 1800 in Ratibor and that his father was Jacob Bruck. (Figure 10) He was a respected doctor and was actively involved in researching and writing about cholera. Unlike his older brothers, Moritz attended the gymnasium, high school, in Brieg, [today: Brzeg, Poland], 80 miles northwest of Racibórz. His 1824 dissertation written in Latin was entitled “De myrmeciasi,” and was about ants popularly known as bulldog ants, bull ants, or jack jumper ants due to their ferocity; his dissertation includes a dedication page for his father. (Figures 11a-b)
On MyHeritage, I discovered the “Tuchler Family Tree,” which correctly indicates Moritz died on the 25th of October 1863 in Berlin and is buried in the Jüdische Friedhof in der Schönhauser Allee, a fact I confirmed by having one of my German cousins call the cemetery. At a future date, I will include a photo of his headstone. This is one of the few occasions I found vital information on a family tree that I was independently able to verify.
Fanny Bruck (1804-1879)
LDS Microfilm 1184449 indicates that like her sisters Wilhelmine and Dorothea, Fanny got married in Ratibor on the 26th of November 1822 to Isaac Seliger. (Figure 12) Kurt Polborn, my fourth cousin from Germany, shows she died on the 29th of August 1879 in Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland]. Given the exactitude of her death, I asked Kurt about it, and he sent me a copy of a letter Fanny wrote on the 19th of February 1873 informing authorities in Breslau her husband Isaac had passed away on the 13th of February 1873. (Figure 13) The Julian and Hebrew calendar dates of death for both Isaac and Fanny are written at the bottom of this correspondence; the source of this letter is the online archives of the Centralna Biblioteka Judaistyczna, Central Jewish Library. I was able to locate Isaac Seliger’s death register listing on LDS Microfilm 7990011 confirming he died on the 13th of February 1873. (Figure 14)
Because the LDS Church does not have the Breslau death register covering the years between 1874 and 1910, I asked my friend Renata from the Old Jewish Cemetery in Wrocław if she could help track down Fanny Seliger’s death register information. Coincidentally, Fanny is buried in the Old Jewish Cemetery. Renata confirmed she was born on the 8th of November 1804 and died on the 29th of August 1879. A photo of her matzevah, headstone, will soon follow. (Figure 15-COMING SOON)
Isaac Bruck (~1805-?)
Isaac Bruck is estimated to have been born in 1805 or 1806. Along with his Samuel Bruck, both of their names show up on the roster of students who attended the inaugural class when Ratibor’s gymnasium, high school, opened in June 1819. (Figure 16) The roster indicates Isaac was 13 years old at the time, while his brother Samuel was 10 years of age. Isaac and Samuel’s unnamed father is listed as an “arendator,” beer tenant or distiller, which Jacob Bruck was known to have been. I discussed this topic in Post 152.
A particularly intriguing document I located mentioning Isaac Bruck was in a gazette entitled “Amtsblatt für den Regierungsbezirk Marienwerder,” dated the 26th of May 1828. The Marienwerder gazette printed a notice to be on the lookout for the deserter Isaac Bruck from Ratibor, who in 1828 was said to be 22 years old. (Figure 17)
The Marienwerder Region (German: Regierungsbezirk Marienwerder) was a government region (Regierungsbezirk) of Prussia from 1815 until 1920 and again 1939-1945. It was a part of the Province of West Prussia from 1815 to 1829, and again 1878–1920, belonging to the Province of Prussia in the intervening years, and to the Reichsgau Danzig-West Prussia in the years 1939-1945. The regional capital was Marienwerder in West Prussia [today: Kwidzyn, Poland].
According to LDS Microfilms 1194054 and 1194055 for Gleiwitz [today: Gliwice, Poland], Isaac and his wife Caroline Bruck, née Stolz, are known to have separated on the 19th of July 1835. (Figure 18)
Isaac Bruck is my cousin Michael Bruck’s 4th great-grandfather who he estimates died in 1856 or 1857.
Samuel Bruck (1808-1863)
Samuel was my third-great-grandfather, and the original owner of the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preussen” Hotel in Ratibor. His existence is beyond doubt. I discussed Samuel in Post 144, so direct readers to that installment.
Heimann Bruck (~1812)
Heimann Bruck first attended Ratibor’s gymnasium, high school, in April 1823 when he was 11 years old. (Figure 19) Heimann’s unnamed father is said to be a “Destillateur,” distiller, which Jacob Bruck is known to have been.
Heimann married Rosalie “Rosa” Bruck on the 21st of August 1832 in Neisse, Prussia [today: Nysa, Poland]. Heimann’s father is identified as “Jacob B.” and Rosa’s father as “David B.” (Figure 20) Jacob and David were likely cousins.
In an 1826 Ratibor publication entitled “Einladungsschrift der Offentlichen Prufung der Schuler des Konigs. Gymnasium in Ratibor am 5, 6, und 7 April,” “Invitation to the Public Examination of the Pupils of the Royal Grammar School in Ratibor on April 5, 6 and 7, 1826,” Heimann Bruck’s name appears as having graduated from fourth class Latin. This may correspond with Heimann’s graduation from the gymnasium. (Figure 21)
Various ancestral trees indicate Heimann died in 1875 but this information is unconfirmed.
Jonas Bruck (1813-1883)
Jonas Bruck’s history is well-known. Primary source documents related to my 2nd great granduncle were discussed in Post 145. Jonas first attended Ratibor’s gymnasium in 1824 at 10 ½ years of age (Figure 22) and is shown in an annual Ratibor yearbook to have graduated in 1828.
Jacob and Marianne last known child is Rebecka Bruck and is their only child whose birth was recorded on LDS Microfilm 1184449 for Ratibor. (Figure 23) Her fate was unknown until I found her death register listing in the Upper Silesian Genealogical Society’s Signature Book 1699 indicating she died in Ratibor on the 16th of September 1819 at 4 years 8 months of age. (Figure 24)
In closing, let me make a few remarks. As readers can tell, I hold myself to a very high standard when documenting vital statistics for individuals I’m researching. On rare occasions, ancestral trees with vital data will direct me to information I can verify. Thanks to German and Polish friends and family, while compiling source documents for this post, I was able to uncover vital information for three additional children of Jacob and Marianne, namely, Wilhelmine Bruck, Moritz Bruck, and Fanny Bruck. While there are likely limits to what more can be uncovered, particularly for their children who died at birth or in infancy, I remain convinced additional primary source documents exist and that I may eventually find them. As things now stand, I’m confident I’ve proven the existence of nine of Jacob and Marianne’s children and confirmed the birth and death dates of six of them.
REFERENCES
Amtsblatt für den Regierungsbezirk Marienwerder. (1828)
VITAL DATA & SOURCE OF INFORMATION ON JACOB NATHAN BRUCK & MARIANNE BRUCK, NÉE AUFRECHT’S CHILDREN
NOTE: My frustration with ancestral data in other people’s family trees is that they are often unsourced. In the table below, I’ve noted whether the data is “confirmed” or “unconfirmed.” I do not generally consider hand drawn family trees to be irrefutable proof of accuracy, nor do I consider the Geneanet Community Tree Index a primary source document. Even among contemporary records, I’ve occasionally found errors though generally consider the information in these registers and certificates to be the best available. I welcome corrections and additions from readers that have a personal interest in the information provided below.
NAME
(relationship)
EVENT
DATE
PLACE
SOURCE
Jacob Nathan Bruck (self)
Birth
18 February 1770 (unconfirmed)
Pschow, Prussia [today: Pszów, Poland]
Marianne Polborn, née Bruck family tree; Geneanet Community Tree Index
Marriage
16 May 1793 (unconfirmed)
Marianne Polborn, née Bruck family tree
Death
29 June 1836 (confirmed)
Ratibor, Prussia [today: Racibórz, Poland]
Upper Silesia Genealogical Society, Ratibor Signature Book 1698_0078; Geneanet Community Tree Index
Marianne Aufrecht (wife)
Birth
21 August 1776 (unconfirmed)
Teschen, Prussia [today: Cieszyn, Poland]
Marianne Polborn, née Bruck family tree; Geneanet Community Tree Index
Marriage
16 May 1793
(unconfirmed)
Marianne Polborn, née Bruck family tree
Death
1835 (unconfirmed)
Geneanet Community Tree Index
Wilhelmine Bruck (daughter)
Birth
24 April 1796 (confirmed)
Headstone at the Stary Cmentarz Żydowski we Wrocławiu (Museum of Cemetery Art, Old Jewish Cemetery), Wroclaw, Poland
Marriage (to Wilhelm Friedenstein)
7 November 1814 (confirmed)
Ratibor, Prussia [today: Racibórz, Poland]
LDS Family History Center Microfilm 1184449; Upper Silesia Genealogical Society, Ratibor Signature Book 1699_0053
Death
21 December 1864 (confirmed)
Headstone at the Stary Cmentarz Żydowski we Wrocławiu (Museum of Cemetery Art, Old Jewish Cemetery), Wroclaw, Poland
Dorothea Babbett Bruck (daughter)
Birth
Marriage (to Salomon Freund)
25 February 1817 (confirmed)
Ratibor, Prussia [today: Racibórz, Poland]
LDS Family History Center Microfilm 1184449
Death
Marcus Moritz Bruck (son)
Birth
24 December 1800 (confirmed)
Ratibor, Prussia [today: Racibórz, Poland]
1845 biography entitled “Gelehrtes Berlin in Jahre 1845”
Marriage (to Nannette v. Aldersthal)
16 October 1836 (confirmed)
Berlin, Germany
Berlin Marriage Certificate
Death
25 October 1863 (confirmed)
Berlin, Germany
Tuchler Family Tree on MyHeritage; buried in the Jüdische Friedhof in der Schönhauser Allee in Gräberfeld J, Erbbegräbnis 170 (Grave Field J, Hereditary Burial 170)
Fanny Bruck (daughter)
Birth
8 November 1804 (confirmed)
Headstone at the Stary Cmentarz Żydowski we Wrocławiu (Museum of Cemetery Art, Old Jewish Cemetery), Wroclaw, Poland
Marriage (to Isaac Seliger)
26 November 1822 (confirmed)
Ratibor, Prussia [today: Racibórz, Poland]
LDS Family History Center Microfilm 1184449; Upper Silesia Genealogical Society, Ratibor Signature Book 1699_0055
Death
29 August 1879 (confirmed)
Breslau, Prussia [today: Wrocław, Poland]
Headstone at the Stary Cmentarz Żydowski we Wrocławiu (Museum of Cemetery Art, Old Jewish Cemetery), Wroclaw, Poland; Letter written & signed by Fanny Seliger dated 19 February 1873 in the online archives of the Central Jewish Library (https://cbj.jhi.pl/documents/375623/8/)
Isaac Bruck (son)
Birth
~1805 (unconfirmed)
Ratibor, Prussia [today: Racibórz, Poland]
Königl. Evangel. Gymnasium zu Ratibor am 2. Juni 1819, roster of students (Isaac said to be 13 years old in June 1819); Amtsblatt für den Regierungsbezirk Marienwerder, Vol. 18, 26 May 1828, p. 213 (Isaac said to be 22 years old in May 1828)
Marriage (to Caroline Stolz)
Separated
14 July 1835 (confirmed)
Gleiwitz, Prussia [Gliwice, Poland]
LDS Family History Center Microfilms 1195054 & 1194055 for Gleiwitz [Gliwice, Poland]
Death
Samuel Bruck (son)
Birth
11 March 1808 (confirmed)
Pschow, Prussia [today: Pszów, Poland]
Caption on family photo; Pinkus Family Collection, Leo Baeck Institute
Marriage (to Charlotte Marle)
18 January 1831 (unconfirmed)
Ratibor, Prussia [today: Racibórz, Poland]
Marianne Polborn, née Bruck family tree
Death
3 July 1863 (confirmed)
Ratibor, Prussia [today: Racibórz, Poland]
Caption on family photo
Heimann Heinrich Bruck (son)
Birth
~1812 (unconfirmed)
Königl. Evangel. Gymnasium zu Ratibor, 1819-1849 roster of students (Heimann said to be 11 years old in April 1823); MyHeritage family tree
Marriage (to Rosalie “Rosa” Bruck)
21 August 1832 (confirmed)
Neisse, Prussia [today: Nysa, Poland]
LDS Family History Center Microfilm 00799058, page 17 of 596 & 68 of 596;
Death
1875 (unconfirmed)
Breslau, Prussia [today: Wrocław, Poland]
MyHeritage family tree
Jonas Bruck (son)
Birth
5 March 1813 (confirmed)
Ratibor, Prussia [today: Racibórz, Poland]
Headstone at the Stary Cmentarz Żydowski we Wrocławiu (Museum of Cemetery Art, Old Jewish Cemetery), Wroclaw, Poland; Königl. Evangel. Gymnasium zu Ratibor am 2. Juni 1819, roster of students (Jonas said to be 10.5 years old on April 1824)
Marriage (to Rosalie Marle)
Death
5 April 1883 (unconfirmed)
Breslau, Prussia [today: Wrocław, Poland]
Headstone at the Stary Cmentarz Żydowski we Wrocławiu (Museum of Cemetery Art, Old Jewish Cemetery), Wroclaw, Poland
Rebecka Bruck (daughter)
Birth
10 January 1815 (confirmed)
Ratibor, Prussia [today: Racibórz, Poland]
LDS Family History Center Microfilm 1184449
Death
16 September 1819 (confirmed)
Ratibor, Prussia [today: Racibórz, Poland]
Upper Silesia Genealogical Society, Ratibor Signature Book 1699_0067
Note: In this post, I discuss how I recently came into possession of images of ancestors from a branch of my family that originates mostly from Breslau [today:Wrocław, Poland], and learned about a memoir written by the grandfather of the English lawyer who shared these pictures.
A scant three months ago, on the 29th of September 2023 to be precise, I received an email from a lawyer living in Wolverhampton in the West Midlands of England, Helen Winter, née Renshaw. (Figure 1) I say “scant” because in the short period since we’ve been in touch, we’ve already exchanged several hundred emails.
In Helen’s initial missive, she explained that she is a descendant of the Bruck family and that her maternal grandfather was Professor Eberhard Friedrich Bruck (1877-1960). (Figure 2) He taught law at the University of Bonn until enactment of “The Law for the Restoration of the Professional Civil Service” (German: Gesetz zur Wiederherstellung des Berufsbeamtentums, shortened to Berufsbeamtengesetz) by the Nazis on the 7th of April 1933. The primary objective of this law was to establish a “national” and “professional” civil service by dismissing certain groups of tenured civil servants, including individuals of Jewish descent and non-Aryan origins. Additionally, the law forbade Jews, non-Aryans, and political opponents from holding positions as teachers, professors, judges, or within the government. It also extended to other professions such as lawyers, doctors, tax consultants, musicians, and notaries.
Following Eberhard’s dismissal as university professor and confiscation of his home, he fled to the United States and wound-up teaching at Harvard University. As Helen further explained, her grandfather wrote a memoir for his daughter, Helen’s mother (Figure 3), relating the history of his branch of the Bruck family. As a Christmas gift to her nephews and nieces, Helen has slowly been translating the account. Her grandfather’s chronicle makes mention of the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel, the family business in Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland] owned by three generations of my family. (Figure 4) While researching the history and fate of the hotel, Helen stumbled on multiple blog posts where I made mention of the establishment.
Helen has promised to share her grandfather’s translated story but has given me a preview of the brief entry her grandfather Eberhard Bruck wrote about his great-grandfather, Jacob Nathan Bruck, my great-great-great-grandfather from Ratibor. Since Jacob arguably died in 1832 or 1836 and Eberhard was born in 1877, he would not have known him personally. Eberhard’s written accounts of Jacob are likely stories he heard about him growing up and may have been clouded by the lens through which childhood memories are often remembered. In an upcoming post, I intend to discuss the meager details I’ve been able to uncover about my earliest known ancestor from Ratibor but suffice it for now to say the particulars caused me to more thoroughly investigate when the Bruck’s Hotel might have been built. These findings will be the basis for yet another post because they give insights on avenues others may want to follow in examining their own family histories.
On various occasions I’ve told readers that my ancestral tree has fewer than 1,500 names, which pales in comparison to multiple trees I’ve come across with more than 100,000 names. I use my tree mostly to orient myself to the people I write about on my blog. That said, I have people in my tree, living and deceased, whose names I’ve come across without knowing anything about them. This was the case with my fourth cousin Thomas “Tom” Friedrich Brook until he contacted me asking if we were related; I wrote about Tom in Post 143. (Figure 5) This was also true of Helen who previously existed only as a wraith. Coincidentally, Tom and Helen Winter are second cousins who’ve never met (i.e., Helen and Tom’s grandfathers were brothers), and like Tom, Helen is my fourth cousin.
In conjunction with translating her grandfather’s memoirs, Helen recently obtained family documents and pictures her older sister was curating. (Figure 6) Scrutinizing these items in combination has caused Helen to become obsessed with ancestral research. I can relate!
It is not my intention to further dwell on this branch of my family. However, as I just mentioned, I have numerous individuals in my tree I know nothing about and have no idea what they looked like. As names only, they are lifeless. Helen has been like the gift that keeps on giving because she has sent me pictures of many of my ancestors, including some of the earliest known ones from Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland]. Acquiring these visuals for my ancestral tree is like filling in my Bingo card!
Among the most beguiling images Helen sent are ones of Jacob Bruck’s son and daughter-in-law, Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck (1813-1883) (Figures 7a & b-10) and Rosalie Bruck, née Marle (1817-1890) (Figures 11-12) and his famous grandson, Dr. Julius Bruck (1840-1902). (Figure 13) Julius is known for having designed in 1867 a water-cooled diaphanoscopic instrument for transillumination of the bladder via the rectum.
Jonas and Julius Bruck and their respective wives are interred in a mausoleum-like structure at the Old Jewish Cemetery in Wrocław, Poland (Figure 14), and are among my only Bruck ancestors whose burial location is known. Because I am friends with the Branch Manager of the Old Jewish Cemetery, Dr. Renata Wilkoszewska-Krakowska (Figure 15), I shared the pictures Helen sent with her and she was thrilled to receive them since some of the people are interred in “her” cemetery.
To close this post, I will share two other images (Figures 16-17) Helen has sent over the last several weeks, like the twelve daily gifts of Christmas! Suffice it to say, my Bingo card is becoming quite full!
Note: In this post, I briefly discuss some primary source documents sent to me by a reader mentioning one of my renowned ancestors, Dr. Jonas Bruck (1813-1883) from Wrocław, Poland [German: Breslau], who owned an inn 120 miles away in the town of Zyttna, Prussia [Żytna, Poland]. Initially uncertain whether this related to my great-great-granduncle, after having the documents translated, I confirmed it was indeed his property.
I beg the indulgence of readers as I continue my examination of primary source documents related to some of my earliest Bruck relatives from Silesia. For reference, in Post 144, I discussed primary source documents referring to my great-great-grandfather Samuel Bruck (1808-1863) who is thought to have been the original owner of the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel in Ratibor, Prussia [today: Racibórz, Poland], the family business there owned through three generations.
In this post, I briefly examine a document citing Dr. Jonas Bruck (1813-1883) who was Samuel’s younger brother. (Figure 1) The first mention I found of Jonas was in the same 1820 publication, entitled “Denkschrift über die feierliche Eröffnung des Königl. Evangel. Gymnasium zu Ratibor am 2 Juni 1819” by Dr. Carl Linge, where his older brother Samuel was listed. (Figures 2a-c) Translated as “Memorandum on the ceremonial opening of the Royal Evangelical High School in Ratibor on June 2, 1819,” this publication names all the students who attended the inaugural class upon the high school’s opening in June of 1819.
The Bruck surname was reasonably common in Upper Silesia where my father’s family was concentrated for more than 100 years. When I come across mention of the family surname, I am apt to only make a mental note unless I’m aware of an ancestral connection to the town in question or unless the citation mentions ancestors to which I can link to on my ancestral tree. Thus, a question I received in June from a Polish gentleman named Mr. Jan Krajczok who lives in Rybnik, Poland caused me outwardly to have a dismissive reaction. However, his family’s three centuries-long connection to the nearby village of Żytna (i.e, Rybnik and Żytna are only about 10 miles apart) and the latter’s proximity to Ratibor, where many Brucks hail from, gave me pause. (Figure 3)
Let me provide a little more background. Mr. Krajczok was referred to me by my retired lawyer friend from Racibórz, Paul Newerla, who has written extensively about the history of Ratibor and Silesia. While helping his friends from nearby Żytna, Poland [Germany: Zyttna, Prussia], Jan checked land registration records of 19th century owners in the village and in Register 34 seemingly found Jewish surnames; if true, these surnames would relate to the memories and oral histories of current town dwellers who recall stories of purported Jewish owners of an inn in Zyttna. According to Jan, while the inn no longer stands photos supposedly survive along with a beer glass from the inn. Jan explained that he is trying to find a connection between the last owners listed in the register and the people who occupy the space now.
While researching names found in the primary source documents, including “Heimann Ajruck (which he thinks is “Bruck”),” “Moses Mendel Bruck,” and “Jonas Bruck,” Jan stumbled upon my blog. (Figures 4a-c) He found mention I had made of “my” Dr. Jonas Bruck in Post 68, among others. To remind readers, Dr. Jonas Bruck was the father of my famed ancestor, Dr. Julius Bruck (1840-1902) (Figure 5), from Breslau, Prussia [today: Wrocław, Poland]. I don’t expect readers to recall but in 1867 Dr. Julius Bruck designed a water-cooled diaphanoscopic instrument for translumination of the bladder via the rectum; this instrument consisted of an illuminated platinum thread inserted into a double glass wall cylinder with the instrument’s outer glass chamber cooled by water. Julius and his father Jonas, and their respective wives are interred in the Old Jewish Cemetery in Wrocław in a mausoleum-like structure that has been restored. (Figure 6)
Jan wondered whether Dr. Jonas Bruck from Breslau and Jonas Bruck from Zyttna could have been one and the same. Żytna and Wrocław are about 120 miles apart (Figure 7), so I was hard pressed to imagine why the dentist would have owned or managed an inn in Zyttna, unless of course it was an investment which he leased to a tenant. While I was dubious of the link, I’ve been working on my ancestry for long enough to realize that seemingly unrelated people and places connect in unexpected ways. For this reason, I promised Jan that I would ask my German friend, Peter Hanke, the “Wizard of Wolfsburg,” to translate the German-language documents.
My friend Peter learned the following from the land registration records. Under “Moses Mendel Bruck,” the register shows that on the 26th of November 1842 he purchased the plot of land with a building from Adolph Richter for 14 Reichsthaler. (see Figure 4c) Ownership was documented on the 4th of April 1846. The next entry confirms the involvement of “the dentist Dr. Jonas Bruck.” On the 18th of December 1845 he buys the inn from Moses Mendel Bruck for 35 Reichsthaler, and his ownership is also documented on the 4th of April 1846. Dr. Jonas Bruck sells the inn to Johann Kotzian between the 23rd of May 1859 and the 24th of June 1859 for 35 Reichsthaler.
The relationship of Moses Mendel Bruck and Jonas Bruck is not evident to me since I don’t have Moses in my family tree and have never found mention of him in my research. I suspect that he may have been one of Jonas and Samuel Bruck’s older brothers, but this is mere conjecture.
In any case, notwithstanding my doubt as to Dr. Jonas Bruck’s involvement in the ownership of an inn at quite a remove from Wrocław, this is yet another reminder to myself that when researching Bruck relatives in Silesia I should keep an open mind as to how far afield I’m likely to discover relevant information.
Naturally, I shared Peter Hanke’s translation of the primary source documents from Żytna with Jan Krajczok, who in turn shared them with the villagers. The townspeople were absolutely thrilled that evidentiary materials confirmed what had previously only been a faint recollection that a Jewish family had owned an inn in town during the 19th century. Paraphrasing Jan, what was also particularly satisfying is that a historic connection to Jews once living in the area that the Communists had sought to eradicate had been reaffirmed.
Jan concurred that as improbable as it seems that a dentist from Wrocław would own an inn and a plot of land in a small village 120 miles away, he could well imagine that Jonas was the formal owner and that he employed someone to run the establishment.
Karczma in Polish means inn. Jan happens to be a teacher of literature and philosophy and clarified that in Polish culture the person of a Jewish innkeeper is held in high regard. He explained that in Poland’s national poem, Pan Tadeusz—Sir Thaddeus by Adam Mickiewicz, the character Jankiel who is an innkeeper and a friend of the main heroes and a loyal keeper of their secrets, is esteemed and known to virtually all modern-day Poles.
The inn in Żytna was torn down after the war because of its deteriorated condition. Jan sent me a picture postcard of the inn. (Figure 8)
In closing I would note that some contemporaries of our ancestors with identical names have no known connection to our forebears, such as the Samuel Bruck from Zülz discussed in Post 144, while others are indeed our relatives, such as the Dr. Jonas Bruck from Żytna. Discerning between the two is not always a simple exercise.
REFERENCE
Linge, Dr. Carl (Director des Gymnasiums zu Ratibor) (1820). Denkschrift über die feierliche Eröffnung des Königl. Evangel. Gymnasium zu Ratibor am 2 Juni 1819, nebst den dabei gehaltenen Reden des Consistorialrath Dr. Wachler, und des Dr. Linge, und andern Beilagen herausgegeben von Dr. C. L., etc. The British Library. Digitized: August 20, 2018.
Note: In this post, I discuss a fourth cousin, familiarly known to his BBC News followers as Tom Brook, who was one of the first British journalists to report live outside John Lennon’s home on New York’s Upper West Side following his murder on December 8, 1980. Serendipitously, I was recently contacted by Tom’s second cousin, a lady from Wolverhampton, England, who is currently translating her grandfather’s memoir which happens to contain references to my earliest known Bruck relatives from Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland]. In upcoming posts I will begin to discuss documents I’ve recently uncovered related to some of these early family ancestors.
An application on Geni World Family Tree allows you to enter the name of two people and have it tell you how these people are linked, often a convoluted and rather uninteresting connection. Since we’re all ultimately related, I’ve never personally availed myself of this Geni function though others whom I converse with through my blog have on occasion sent me graphics illustrating our “kinship.” I’m aware of but again have never used a different application available elsewhere that allows someone to determine how they are related to famous people. Since I’m decidedly not a “stargazer,” this is of no interest to me.
At various times, I’ve mentioned that I have a family tree on ancestry.com’s platform with between 1200 and 1300 names. While this may seem like a large number, I’ve seen trees with more than 100,000 names. As I’ve periodically told readers, I use my tree mostly to orient myself to the people about whom I write. However, regular readers know that over time I’ve started writing about much more than my own family in the interest of retaining and expanding my readership.
At the risk of offending distant relatives, I tend to lose interest in next of kin beyond fourth cousins. That said, whenever someone contacts me asking whether we might be related or telling me they think we are related, as an intellectual exercise, I will take pencil and paper to try and work out our ancestral relationship. Occasionally, this leads to hearing from people with a captivating pedigree or making engaging connections. This post is about just such a person, plus a more recent contact from a different individual who I discovered is the second cousin of the person who originally reached out to me. Long-term followers of my blog know that uncovering connections between seemingly unrelated people and events is something I find particularly engrossing about doing ancestral research.
Around Thanksgiving of 2022, I received an email from a genial journalist named Thomas Friedrich Brook (b. 1953) (Figure 1), more familiarly known as Tom, who’s lived in New York for 40 years. After stumbling on my blog, Tom wondered whether we might be related. Given our identical surnames, this makes sense. He briefly explained his lineage, telling me his father was born Caspar Friedrich Bruck (1920-1983) in Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland], and that his grandfather was Werner Friedrich Bruck (1880-1945) (Figure 2), a university professor in Münster, Germany until 1933 when Hitler came to power. Werner’s brother, Eberhard Friedrich Bruck (1877-1960) (Figure 3) was a prominent lawyer, whom Tom told me he’d met a few times growing up.
Tom’s family settled in London in 1948, and like my family when they came to America, changed their surname to “Brook.” Following his grandfather’s divorce, Werner ended up teaching at the New School in New York until his death in 1945.
Since all of Tom’s family are in my tree, including Tom whose name I had stumbled across during my research, I was quickly able to establish that he and I are fourth cousins.
Tom Brook’s mention that he is a journalist caused me to Google his name, and I learned he is a New York-based journalist working primarily for BBC News and is seen primarily on BBC World News and BBC News Channel. He is the main presenter of its flagship cinema program “Talking Movies,” and has presented every episode since it was first broadcast in February 1999.
In a subsequent email Tom mentioned that he has a large photo album with pictures of his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, plus a drawing of a visit from Kaiser Wilhelm II, Germany’s last Kaiser. The existence of this drawing reaffirms my family’s connection to Kaiser Wilhelm. It’s my great hope that despite Tom’s dreadfully busy schedule, we might eventually connect so I can view his family heirlooms.
Fast forward to late September of this year when I was contacted by an English lady named Helen Winter née Renshaw (b. 1948) (Figure 4) from Wolverhampton, West Midlands, in the central part of England. Like most of my contacts these days, Helen stumbled on my blog while researching the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel in Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland], the hotel my family owned there for three generations. She told me her grandfather Eberhard Friedrich Bruck had mentioned the family hotel in a memoir he wrote for his daughter, Margot Renshaw née Bruck (1917-1985), that’s to say, Helen’s mother. This is when I realized that Eberhard happens to have been Werner Friedrich Bruck’s older brother, making Helen Winter and Tom Brook second cousins.
Becuase Tom and I have lost touch since our initial contact in 2022, I asked Helen whether she knew of her second cousin and, if so, how to contact him. She explained that while she was aware of him, they’d never met though her older sister had met Tom when she was younger. Intriguingly, she mentioned something I overlooked when initially reading Tom’s Wikipedia entry, namely, that he had been the first British journalist to report live from outside John Lennon’s home in the famed Dakota Apartment building (The Dakota – Wikipedia) on New York’s Upper West Side, following the murder of the former Beatle.
I must briefly digress. Long-term watchers of the CBS News Hour may recall Steve Hartman’s regular award-winning program “Everybody Has a Story.” For those unfamiliar with this series, Hartman would throw a dart at a map and then randomly choose an interview subject from the local phone book. Steve would uncover something alluring or unusual that had happened to that person, and fashion a human-interest story based on their conversation. Running for seven years beginning in 1998, Hartman produced more than 120 pieces in this series. While Tom Brook will better be remembered for his career as a BBC journalist and his long-running entertainment show, I couldn’t help but think that if Steve Hartman had randomly selected his name from a local phone book, Tom’s reportage of John Lennon’s murder outside his apartment building in New York City would have stood out as an unusual occurrence in his life.
On the 40th anniversary of John Lennon’s murder, which took place on the 8th of December 1980, Tom penned an article in which he basically conceded the point I’m making. Quoting: “Lennon continues to define my career. I have been a broadcast journalist for more than 40 years. In that time, I have filed more than 3,000 stores for BBC outlets and have interviewed most of the big names in the movie industry.
But all people want to know when they meet me is what it was like to cover John Lennon’s death.”
As we speak, Helen Winter is in the process of translating her grandfather Eberhard’s memoir. While he was a lawyer in Bonn, Germany, and like his brother Werner lost his position in 1933 when Hitler ascended to power, his memoir also discusses his early Bruck ancestors from Ratibor. Helen has teased me with some of the facsinating things Eberhard wrote about them that may reveal more about my family’s earliest connection to this town. Stay tuned.
REFERENCE
Brook, Tom (8 December 2020). “John Lennon: I Was There the Day He Died.” BBC News. London. Archived from the original on 8 December 2020.
Note: Inspired by a reader, in this post I investigate the location of a Polish forced labor camp situated near Kamenz, Germany [today: Kamieniec Ząbkowicki, Poland], a place I’ve discussed in several earlier posts. Determining its location caused me to examine the purpose of the various networks of underground caves and subterranean structures the Nazis constructed in the latter stages of WWII in the mountainous regions of Germany, Austria, and Poland.
A gentleman, Mr. Wayne Lewan, from New South Wales, Australia recently contacted me through my blog regarding his father, Zbigniew Lewandowski. Wayne’s surname is obviously a truncated version of his ancestors’ family name. He happened upon several recent blog posts I wrote about Castle Kamenz [today: Kamieniec Ząbkowicki, Poland] that my friend Peter Albrecht von Preußen’s family owned through several generations.
Wayne sent me two pages (Figures 1a-b) documenting that his father had indeed been a forced laborer in Kamenz in Silesia near Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland] between 1944-1945, when Silesia was part of Germany. I found these and other pages, including Zbigniew Lewandowski’s photograph (Figure 2) on his 1948 “Application for Assistance” requesting help to immigrate to Australia, in the online Arolsen Archives database. This database has the largest collection of information on Nazi victims, including documents on concentration camps, forced labor and displaced persons.
According to Wayne, his father was picked up by the Nazis in a street roundup in Warsaw on the 17th of July 1944. Given the timing of his arrest, it is likely that Zbigniew was arrested during the Warsaw Uprising, the World War II operation by the Polish underground resistance to liberate Warsaw from German occupation. It occurred in the summer of 1944, and it was led by the Polish resistance Home Army. Following Zbigniew’s arrest, he was held in Kamenz between July 1944 and January 1945, then moved to Mühldorf, a subcamp of the Dachau concentration camp located near Mühldorf in Bavaria, where he was liberated in May 1945.
Aware that present-day Kamieniec Ząbkowicki, Poland, located in the Lower Silesian Voivodeship (i.e., an “administrative district”) of south-western Poland, has a population of only about 4,200 people today and is a small community, I became curious as to where exactly in Kamenz the internment camp might have been located.
For geographic reference, Kamieniec Ząbkowicki is approximately 80 miles northwest of Racibórz (Figure 3), where my father was born, and roughly 50 miles south of Wrocław, Poland [formerly: Breslau, Germany]. (Figure 4) Wrocław is a city in southwestern Poland and the largest city in the historical region of Silesia. Kamieniec Ząbkowicki is an important railroad junction, located on the main line which links Wrocław with Kłodzko [Glatz, Germany] and Prague.
The reason the location of a forced laborer camp in Kamenz is so fascinating is that in the numerous discussions I’ve had with Peter Albrecht von Preußen the existence of such a purported camp has never previously come up. And, in fact, the document Wayne Lewan sent me merely indicated his father had been interned in “Kamenz, Schles., near Breslau,” (see Figure 1a) making no allusion to Castle Kamenz proper. Still, while my online research yielded no mention of any forced laborer camp near Kamenz in Silesia, I confusingly discovered there had been a concentration camp in another town by the same name located in Saxony; the latter was a subcamp of the Gross-Rosen concentration camp.
I began to wonder whether an internment camp might have existed underground near Castle Kamenz. While researching this possibility, I learned that the Nazis had begun a secret construction project in the Owl Mountains [Polish: Góry Sowie; German: Eulengebirge] beneath Książ Castle, located only about 43 miles northwest of Castle Kamenz. Książ Castle is a castle in northern Wałbrzych (Figure 5) in Lower Silesian Voivodeship, Poland, and the largest castle in Silesia. It stood to reason that if the Nazis had begun fabrication of massive underground bases beneath a nearby castle in Silesia, they might have done the same beneath Castle Kamenz. Nonetheless, Peter Albrecht confirmed that a similar assembly project had never been built under Castle Kamenz.
The project underneath Książ Castle was code named “Project Riese” and involved the construction between 1943 and 1945 of seven massive underground bases. The purpose of this vast subterranean network project remains uncertain. Some sources suggest that all the structures were part of the Führer Headquarters; according to others, it was a combination of headquarters (HQ) and arms industry, with Książ Castle intended as an HQ or other official residence, and the tunnels in the Owl Mountains planned as a network of underground factories. The tunnels were never finished though thousands of prisoners of war, forced laborers, and concentration camp inmates worked and died during the construction work.
In any event, the revelation of underground bases the Nazis excavated or natural caves or old mines they expanded upon has opened a plethora of topics I’ve either never previously discussed or only touched upon. They relate to the final phase of WWII when their development was widespread throughout the mountainous areas of Germany, Austria, and Poland and widely involved the use of forced laborers, prisoners of war, and concentration camps inmates. Because they often lack documentary evidence, they invite endless speculation as to their true function. I will briefly explore some of these issues.
Let me begin by discussing what I learned from Peter Albrecht as to the presumed location of the forced labor camp in Kamenz vis a vis Castle Kamenz. Some of Peter’s information comes from an informant named Stefan Gnaczy who started the local historical society and the small museum in Kamieniec Ząbkowicki; regrettably, Stefan passed away in 2019, though his son Matthew Gnaczy continues to be involved with the historical society and museum.
Before relating what Peter has learned about the forced labor camp near Castle Kamenz let me review some of what I presented to readers in Post 135 for context. Peter’s great-great-grandfather Friedrich Wilhelm Nikolaus Albrecht von Preußen (1837-1906) was gifted Castle Kamenz by his mother upon his marriage to Princess Marie of Saxe-Altenburg (1854-1898) in 1873. Shortly thereafter he started to build a large steam boiler house (Figure 6); the source of heat for a boiler is typically combustion of any of several fuels, such as wood, coal, oil, or natural gas. It’s unknown to me which of these fuels was used to create the steam, though underground pipes running through a tunnel connecting the boiler house to the castle are known to have carried the steam between the two.
Upon Nikolaus’ death in 1906, Castle Kamenz was inherited by his eldest son, Friedrich Heinrich von Preußen (1874-1940), mentioned in several earlier posts. Beginning around this time, he converted approximately 50 rooms into apartments and outfitted them with baths, telephones, radios, and electricity. By then, the boiler house had an electric generator and the tunnels now carried not only steam but electricity. The significance of this will soon become clearer.
Prior to Friedrich Heinrich’s death in 1940, he sold Castle Kamenz to his second cousin, Waldemar von Preußen (1889-1945), who owned the castle throughout WWII.
According to what Peter has learned from local residents of Kamieniec Ząbkowicki as well as the historical society, there is a tunnel/cave system running below the town that is at least six miles long, perhaps longer depending on who you believe. Purportedly, the system was developed hundreds of years earlier for unknown reasons by monks from the former Kamieniec Abbey, which still stands but was secularized in 1810. The caves and tunnels thus predate Castle Kamenz which was constructed between about 1838 and 1872.
Part of this web of tunnels and caves may have included the adits of the former gold and arsenic mine located in Złoty Stok [German: Reichenstein, Germany] mined in the Middle Ages, located a mere 6.1 miles south of Kamieniec Ząbkowicki. (Figure 7)
Peter was able to discover there was indeed a forced work camp near Kamieniec Ząbkowicki at a place formerly call Reichenau, Germany [today: Topola, Poland], located 3.6 miles southeast of the castle. (Figures 8a-b) Topola is a village in the administrative district of Kamieniec Ząbkowicki.
The source of the information on Topola is a report prepared by the Lux Veritatis Foundation, based in Warsaw, called “The Compilation of Places of Crimes Committed against the Civilian Population by the Nazi Occupant on the Polish Territories in Years 1939–1945.” According to Volume 3 of this compilation entitled “The Report on the Losses Sustained by Poland as a Result of German Aggression and Occupation During the Second World War, 1939–1945” (Figure 9) which includes a “List of Atrocity Sites,” 82 Polish citizens, including Poles, Jews, and Romanis, were murdered in Topola during its existence, likely from the extremely harsh and tortuous working conditions. (Figure 10)
The Lux Veritatis’ “List of Atrocity Sites” was compiled based on the work of the Central Commission for the Investigation of German Crimes Committed in Poland. According to the report, “Each volume contains the records of Nazi German atrocities committed in a particular voivodeship (according to the territorial administrative division of Poland in the 1970s), and presents the facts and figures as known to Polish scholars in the 1980s and up to the early 1990s. This series of volumes does not include data on Nazi German concentration and death camps, POW camps, or atrocity sites on territories now beyond the borders of Poland.”
The report further states the following as to the vast scale Nazi Germany’s efforts to exterminate the people of Poland: “Polish citizens were killed in individual incidents of murder, in mass executions by firing squad, during raids to ‘pacify’ whole villages, butchered while held in German prisons, hanged on the gallows in public executions, or slaughtered in barbaric atrocities of miscellaneous other types. Victims included women and children as well as persons with no connection at all with the circumstances triggering an atrocity, who just had the bad luck to be there when the killing started. The German authorities occupying Poland pursued a policy of collective accountability and executed ‘hostages’.”
Given Topola’s proximity to Castle Kamenz and the estimated extent of the nearby tunnel/cave system beneath Kamieniec Ząbkowicki, Peter knows the Nazis tapped into the electric grid and also siphoned off steam from the castle’s electric generator and boiler house to power whatever activities they were clandestinely pursuing. Naturally, this left the castle with limited electricity and steam.
The boiler house tunnel system is currently undergoing restoration, and Peter sent several photos of the ongoing work. (Figures 11a-f) Clearly, the tunnel system once connected to the larger web of subterranean tunnels and caves that were part of the Topola network, though the photos confirm the juncture was sealed off. Apparently, this was done in 1947 by Poland’s Communist government in a covert operation.
Peter emphasizes, however, that in the time that his ancestor Prince Waldemar owned the castle during WWII no forced laborers were used in the operation of Castle Kamenz’s operations nor were any interned in the boiler house tunnel system since the latter is too narrow.
The absence of documentary materials about Reichenau and, more generally, the question on what purpose the various secretive Nazi bunkers and subterranean bases served, invites further examination and speculation.
According to Peter’s informant, the forced laborers that lived and worked in the underground bunker or cave in Topola (Reichenau) may have been gulaged by the infamous Organization Todt (OT). This organization was a civil and military engineering group in Nazi Germany from 1933 to 1945, named for its founder, Fritz Todt, an engineer, and senior member of the Nazi Party. Incidentally, Todt was responsible for the construction of the German autobahns.
OT had oversight for a huge number of engineering projects both in Nazi Germany and in occupied territories from France to the Soviet Union during WWII. The organization became notorious for using forced labor. From 1943 until 1945 during the late phase of the Third Reich, OT administered all constructions of concentration camps to supply forced labor to industry.
Todt was killed in February 1942 near Rastenburg when his aircraft crashed shortly after take-off. He was succeeded as Reichsminister and head of the OT by Albert Speer. This coincided with the absorption of the organization into the renamed and expanded Reich Ministry of Armaments and War Production. Approximately 1.4 million laborers were in the service of the organization. About one percent were Germans excused from military service, another 1.5 percent were concentration camp inmates, and the remainder were prisoners of war and forced laborers from occupied countries. Many of the laborers did not survive the arduous work which they were condemned to.
Suffice it to say, that according to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum website, “Between 1933 and 1945, Nazi Germany and its allies established more than 44,000 camps and other incarceration sites (including ghettos). The perpetrators used these locations for a range of purposes, including forced labor, detention of people deemed to be ‘enemies of the state,’ and mass murder.”
It is possible, and indeed likely, that if forced laborers were used for whatever activities were being undertaken in the tunnel and cave system at Topola, the OT might have brought the needed workers from concentration camp Gusen (Figure 12), located three miles from Mauthausen concentration camp, and 280 miles south-southwest of Kamieniec Ząbkowicki. Recall that Kamenz was a major railway hub to Breslau and Prague, the latter 153 miles directly north of Gusen.
A possible clue as to what clandestine activities may have been going on beneath Topola is the presence of a high-ranking Nazi official named Hans Kammler who is reputed to have maintained a residence in Kamieniec Ząbkowicki after 1943. Hans Kammler was an SS-Obergruppenführer (translated as “senior group leader,” the highest commissioned SS rank after only Reichsführer-SS) responsible for Nazi civil engineering projects and its top V-weapons program. He oversaw the construction of various Nazi concentration camps before being put in charge of the V-2 rocket and Emergency Fighter Programs towards the end of WWII.
V-weapons formed part of the range of the so-called Wunderwaffen (superweapons, or “wonderweapons”) of Nazi Germany, and were intended to be used in a military campaign against Britain, although only the V-1 and V-2 were ever used against them. The V-2 and other German guided missiles and rockets were developed by the Peenemünde Army Research Center (German: Heeresversuchsanstalt Peenemünde, HVP).
Britain’s RAF successfully bombed the Nazi’s rocket production facilities at Peenemünde in August 1943 in Operation Crossbow. Following this successful raid, Albert Speer recommended transferring the V-2 rocket production underground. Hitler immediately agreed, and he and Speer decided that the SS, with its access to a massive supply of slave labor, was best suited to undertake this task.
As the SS construction chief, Hans Kammler was selected to oversee the project. The secret weapons projects for which Kammler was given responsibility included manufacturing both the Messerschmitt Me 262, the first operational jet fighter, and the V-2, which Kammler—in a construction effort of ruthless brutality and speed—had in production before the end of 1943.
The first below-ground project began at a huge fuel storage facility in the German state of Thuringia. By late August 1943, Kammler had a sizable detachment of concentration camp inmates from Buchenwald working at the new underground installation. There were so many slave laborers by the end of 1943 that the subcamp of Mittlebau-Dora was established. The latter supplied slave labor from many Eastern countries occupied by Germany (including evacuated survivors of eastern extermination camps), for extending the nearby tunnels in the Kohnstein and for manufacturing the V-2 rocket and the V-1 flying bomb. Gypsum mining in the hills in the Kohnstein had created tunnels that were ideally suited as a fuel/chemical depot and for Nazi Germany factories, including the V-2 rocket factory.
Regular readers may recall Post 114 and Post 114, Postscript where I discussed one of my distant cousins, Edward Hans Lindenberger, who was compelled to work in the underground tunnels near Buchenwald and Mittlebau-Dora and was never heard from again, no doubt a victim of the Nazis policy of working concentration camp inmates to death.
Assuming the accounts of Hans Kammler’s presence in Kamieniec Ząbkowicki after around 1943 are credible, given the responsibilities he was assigned by Hitler and Speer, it is reasonable to assume that he was engaged in preparing the caves around Topola to produce secret weapons. The mounting pressure on the Nazis from the Allies as the war proceeded suggests that most of the planned underground bunkers and caves were never completed. Pictures of the unfinished bunkers that were part of Project Riese, for example, show old winches, abandoned munitions carts, and primitive railway tracks leading into the tunnels, but not enough to conclusively determine what activities were planned.
In the absence of documentary evidence, one can only surmise what the network of caves, tunnels, bunkers, and subterranean structures scattered throughout Germany, Poland, Austria, and elsewhere were developed for. Likely, they were intended for a range of different purposes, including production of munitions, planes, and missiles; headquarters from which to direct troop movements; places to house batteries of cannons; safe havens from which to make a last stand; and even locations to stash war plunder. What I find mystifying is that among the myriad Nazi documents that survived WWII, seemingly few related to the purpose of the underground caves exist. Either they were never produced, which seems unlikely, destroyed before the Allies could get their hands on them, or carted off by the Allies and are still classified.
Fascinatingly, treasure hunters have expended a lot of time, money, and effort exploring and radar scanning from above searching for underground cavities where a “Nazi gold train” rumored to contain 300 tons of gold, diamonds, other gems, and industrial equipment may have been hidden. According to legend, the train was loaded by the Nazis and entered a tunnel in the mountainous Lower Silesian region before Soviet Army Forces closed in, but the train was never seen again. There are periodic reports in the media about treasure seekers claiming to have found evidence of this train. According to Peter, the tunnels connecting Castle Kamenz to the boiler house are periodically broken into by fortune hunters seeking this chimera.
There is another factor complicating understanding the purpose of the various subterranean structures, namely inaccessibility and/or flooding of the chambers. In the case of Reichenau, the Neisse River runs through it. To the southwest of the site there was once a quarry. According to Stefan Gnaczy, Peter’s informant, in 1947 the Polish government sealed off the entrance to the caves and tunnels and flooded the quarry including the sealed entrance diverting water from the Neisse River. Stefan further claims to have found an unpublished Polish government report from the 1960s stating that only half of the underground tunnel is accessible for exploration, with the remainder flooded.
Coming full circle back to Wayne Lewan’s father. According to his father’s records, he was stationed in Kamenz for only about six months. It’s not clear why he was moved from Kamenz to Dachau concentration camp in January 1945. His pre-war occupation was telephone lineman mechanic, and perhaps he was considered a skilled worker whose abilities were better utilized in Dachau. (Figure 13) Regardless, alerted to the fact that Zbigniew Lewandowski had once been interned in Kamenz led me to track down the camp where he was likely held and to investigate Nazi underground bases and tunnels, the purpose of which remain shrouded in mystery.
Hall, John. “Inside the Nazi’s abandoned military shelters in Poland.” DailyMail.com, 12 August 2015. https://www.dailymail.co.uk
Ilsley, Natalie. “Top 5 Nazi Discoveries.” Newsweek, 31 August 2015.
Lux Veritatas Foundation. “The Report on the Losses Sustained by Poland as a Result of German Aggression and Occupation During the Second World War, 1939–1945: List of Atrocity Sites.”
Sulzer, Andreas. “The two lives of Hans Kammler/Hitler’s Secret Weapons Manager.” YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EkKFX9HLAxc
“10 Nazi bunkers and subterranean bases.” Heritage Daily. https://www.heritagedaily.com/
United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. “Forced Labor.” https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/forced-labor
United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. “Gusen.” https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/gusen
