POST 166: STATELESSNESS & MY GERMAN CITIZENSHIP APPLICATION

 

Note: In my most overtly political post, I discuss the Nazi decrees that led my father and a relative by marriage to become stateless. I consider this topic in the context of my ongoing German citizenship application process permitted by German law as a descendant of my father who was “deprived” of his German nationality in 1941.

Related Posts:

POST 26: “APATRIDE” (STATELESS)

POST 92: BEWARE IDENTICAL ANCESTRAL NAMES, THE CASE OF MY MATERNAL GREAT-GRANDFATHER HERMANN BERLINER

POST 165: MORE ABOUT ERNST MOMBERT, DEPORTED FROM FRANCE TO AUSCHWITZ WITH MY AUNT SUZANNE MÜLLER, NÉE BRUCK

 

After many years contemplating applying for German citizenship, I recently started assembling the notarized documents to make this a reality. I had always intended to do this as a practical exercise that I could then write about on my blog. However, the current uncivil body politic here in America makes this more imperative than ever. To those who say, “fascism can never happen in America,” I merely remind readers this is what many German Jews said after Hitler was appointed Chancellor by President Paul von Hindenburg on the 30th of January 1933. The phrase “those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it” comes to mind. I choose to be prepared.

The initiation of my German citizenship application has me thinking about how my father, Dr. Otto Bruck, and Ernst Mombert, subject of my previous Post 165, came to be referred to as “apatride,” the French word for stateless. This term is used on both of their official contemporary French documents.

Some context is helpful. 

Germany’s Federal Office of Administration provides information on the statutory basis for “naturalization on grounds of restoration of German citizenship after deprivation.” Pursuant to Article 116(2) of the Basic Law (Grundgesetz, GG) of the Federal Republic of Germany, persons who were “deprived” of their German citizenship by the National Socialists between 1933 and 1945 are entitled to naturalization. This means that the persons had been German citizens and were deprived of this citizenship in the National Socialist era or that a naturalization that had taken place between 1918 and 1933 was revoked. 

As defined in Article 116(2) GG (Grundgesetz), persons are deemed to have been “deprived” of their German citizenship on political, racial, or religious grounds whenever this citizenship was either: 

Such people and their descendants have been entitled to naturalization by the GG since 24 May 1949. 

In the case of the 1933 act, individual cases of deprivation of German citizenship were published in the Reich Gazette (Reichsanzeiger). With respect to the 1941 decree, this applied to all German citizens of Jewish faith who had their habitual residence abroad when the ordinance entered into force or later resided abroad. It’s on this basis that I qualify to apply for German citizenship through descent from my father. 

As a sidebar, I would note that incorporation of “revocation of naturalizations” in the title of the 1933 Act is particularly pertinent as I listen to the current vitriol being spewed from fascist-loving cultists anxious to return to the past. I’m reminded of another saying, often attributed to Edmund Burke, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” 

As mentioned above, Hitler was appointed German Chancellor on the 30th of January 1933. It’s not clear precisely when Ernst Mombert, a relative by marriage, left Germany nor what profession he was engaged in at the time. However, by November 1933, Ernst had purchased a fruit farm in Fayence (Var), France, and essentially became a farmer. Because the circumstances related to the application of the 1933 Act all related to naturalizations that took place between 1918 and 1933, this Act would not have applied to Ernst Mombert nor deprived him of his German citizenship. I think he would not have lost his citizenship until the 25 November 1941 Act was passed. 

My father’s circumstances were different though I think he too became stateless under the Reich Citizens Act of 25 November 1941. In the early 1930s, my father Dr. Otto Bruck (Figure 1) was a dental apprentice in the Free City of Danzig, and I believe was briefly living with his aunt Hedwig Loewenstein, nee Bruck (Figure 2), and cousins in Danzig [today: Gdansk, Poland]. By April 9, 1932, he had opened his own dental practice in nearby Tiegenhof [today: Nowy Dwór Gdański, Poland], also located within the Free City of Danzig. My father’s surviving 1932 Day Planner gives the precise day he arrived in Tiegenhof.

 

Figure 1. My father Dr. Otto Bruck in his dental scrubs in the early 1930s

 

 

Figure 2. My father’s aunt, my great-aunt, Hedwig Loewenstein, nee Bruck (1870-1949), with whom he may temporarily have lived with in Danzig while a dental apprentice

 

Just a brief footnote. While “Free City of Danzig” and “Free State of Danzig” are often used interchangeably, the key difference lies in the level of precision. “Free City” is generally considered the more accurate term, as it specifically refers to Danzig as a self-governing city-state under the protection of the League of Nations after WWI, whereas “Free State” implies a slightly larger, more autonomous territory encompassing the city and surrounding areas, though this interpretation is less common in historical context. Throughout this post, I use “Free City.” 

By my calculation, my father lived in the Free City between ca. 1930-1932 until 1937. Theoretically, he would have had two options vis-à-vis citizenship. He could have retained his German citizenship or opted to become a citizen of the Free City, a so-called Danziger. Given that he lived and worked in the Free City, logically he would eventually have become a citizen there, but for the war. However, Free City citizenship does not appear to have been a precondition for owning and operating a business there. More on this below. 

The gentleman at the German Embassy assisting me with my German citizenship application sent me a copy of a so-called “Optionsurkunde” that documented the switch from Danziger to German Reich for another individual applying for German citizenship. (Figure 3) He asked me to look for such a document among my father’s surviving papers, but if he ever switched nationality no such document survives. According to the official from the German Embassy, copies of these Optionsurkunden in the archives were likely destroyed during the war making it impossible for me to know for sure whether my father became a Danziger.

 

Figure 3. Example of an “Optionsurkunde” for a man who switched from being a Danzig citizen to a citizen of the German Reich

 

Had my father become a Danziger, I presume he could have held dual citizenship. I base this assumption on the fact that he had driver’s licenses simultaneously from both the German Reich and the Free City in 1935, the pair of which are in my possession. (Figures 4a-b; 5a-b)

 

Figure 4a. Cover of my father’s 1935 driver’s license from the German Reich

 

Figure 4b. Inside pages of my father’s 1935 driver’s license from the German Reich

 

Figure 5a. Cover page of my father’s 1935 driver’s license from the Free City of Danzig

 

Figure 5b. Inside pages of my father’s 1935 driver’s license from the Free City of Danzig

 

Curious whether the Optionsurkunden might have survived, I recalled a Ms. Regina Stein, a German provenance researcher of museum collections in Berlin, who’d assisted me in 2021 on another matter. I misremembered her as a forensic genealogist. Regardless, I contacted her asking whether she’d ever come across such documents. Unfamiliar with them, Regina reached out to her network of colleagues involved in genealogical research. 

One of her associates, Ms. Sabine Ruks, responded. She provided information that at least in my mind clarifies my father’s situation with respect to whether he ever became a Danziger. Beyond that, however, her analysis places my father’s situation in terms of citizenship in a broader temporal and geopolitical framework. Let me explain. 

My father was born in 1907 in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland] in Upper Silesia. Following Germany’s defeat during WWI, the terms of the Versailles Treaty mandated that a plebiscite be conducted in Upper Silesia. This referendum was intended to determine ownership of the province between Weimar Germany, the constitutional federal republic that existed between 1918 and 1933, and Poland; the region was ethnically mixed with both Germans and Poles. The outcome of the plebiscite, which was marred by violence, was that Upper Silesia was divided. The eastern part of the province went to Poland, while the western part, including Ratibor, remained German. Therefore, the question of my father opting for German nationality following the plebiscite never arose. 

My Bruck family lived in Berlin from at least 1927 onwards. Clearly, this would not have raised any option (Optionsurkunde). My father’s move to the Free City of Danzig should likewise not have raised this either, although this question requires further examination. 

The Free City of Danzig was ceded by the German Reich on November 15, 1920, and placed under the protection of the League of Nations. Poland took over the foreign policy representation. Therefore, passports were marked with “Citizenship: Free City of Poland.” 

The Free City of Danzig ceased to exist after Germany invaded Poland on the 1st of September 1939, followed shortly thereafter by the absorption of the Free City into the German Reich. Made up mostly of Germans and governed by a largely pro-Nazi government, Danzigers welcomed Nazi incorporation into the German Reich. 

From September 1, 1939, the law on the reunification of the Free City of Danzig with the German Reich made them “Germans in accordance with detailed regulations.” As Sabine Ruks notes, “Until then, a foreigner could obtain Danzig citizenship if he or she had lived there for five consecutive years before applying (from January 11, 1920, at the earliest). Otto Bruck lived in the city-state from at least 1932 and could therefore have applied for the first time around 1938, in this case to the Danzig authorities. But even if that had been the case, he would have become German again by law on September 1, 1939.” (Sabine Ruks, personal communication)

Regardless, by September 1939, my father had long quit Tiegenhof and was in Algeria with the French Foreign Legion. While not relevant to my father since he had long-ago left Germany and had already become stateless as of 25 November 1941, the loss of Germany’s eastern territories after WWII did not affect the citizenship of Germans who’d fled from there: they continued to retain German nationality. 

I want to end this post by discussing one of my father’s maternal cousins, a man named Ernst Berliner (i.e., Berliner was my paternal grandmother’s maiden name), who also became stateless. (Figures 6a-b)

 

Figure 6a. Cover page from ancestry.com listing Ernst Berliner in the “Germany, Index of Jews Whose Nationality was Annulled by Nazi Regime, 1935-1944”

 

Figure 6b. Index card showing the National Socialists’ annulment of Ernst Berliner’s German nationality, showing he was born on the 7th of March 1878 in Ratibor, that he was a Bank Director, and last lived in Frankfurt (Main) prior to leaving Germany

 

Ernst was the subject of Post 92. In connection with that earlier post, years ago I came upon his name in an ancestry database, entitled “Germany, Index of Jews Whose Nationality was Annulled by Nazi Regime, 1935-1944.” This database is described as follows in ancestry: 

This is a collection of individual index cards of Jews who had their German nationality annulled by the Nazis. The records were created when German citizenship was revoked because of the anti-Semitic Nuremberg Laws of 1935. The laws spelled out exactly who was considered Jewish and who was allowed German citizenship and its accompanying rights. The Nuremberg Laws also prevented Jews from marrying those of German descent. 

These records were filmed from index cards at the Berlin Document Center in 1959. The records have some suffix names added, Israel for men and Sara for women, which were used to readily identify Jews. The records include information on:

  • Name
  • Birth Date
  • Birthplace
  • Occupation
  • Last address 

Confused as to the overlap in dates and the varying authorities depriving Jews of German nationality, I asked a German friend and my contact at the German Embassy about these things. They explained that while the names of Jews whose nationality was annulled between 1935 and 1944 because of the Nuremberg Laws of 1935 were ALSO published in the Reichsanzeiger, such individuals and their descendants claim restoration of German nationality under a different authority, specifically Section 15 of the German Nationality Act (Staatsangehörigkeitsgesetz, StAG). In the case of Ernst Berliner, his name was published on the 23rd of February 1938 issue of the Reichsanzeiger. (Figures 7a-b)

 

Figure 7a. Page from the February 23, 1938 “Reichsanzeiger” paper listing Ernst Berliner’s name as a Jew whose German nationality was annulled

 

Figure 7b. Ernst Berliner’s name in the February 23, 1938 “Reichsanzeiger” listed as a Jew whose German nationality was annulled

 

Pursuant to Section 15 StAG, persons who lost their German citizenship in some way other than because of the 1933 and 1945 decrees or who were never able to acquire German citizenship due to Nazi persecution and their descendants can become German citizens. Suffice it to say, this provision benefits in particular persons who lost their German citizenship after their flight, for instance, by virtue of a foreign citizenship or through marriage with a foreign national. Compared to naturalizations under the GG which have been in effect since 24 May 1949, naturalizations under StAG have only been permitted since 20 August 2021. 

I know of several friends and relatives who’ve applied for German nationality, several successfully. An advantage I have stems from having worked and written about my family’s history for over ten years, so I am generally familiar where the original vital certificates are located that have not been digitized. Case in point, as we speak, I’m trying to obtain a certified copy of my father’s birth certificate from the archives in the town where my father was born. I’m also eligible to apply for French nationality through my mother. A German passport would allow me unrestricted stays in countries that are members of the European Union, so if the EU continues to exist there is no obvious advantage to obtaining French nationality. Still, as an intellectual exercise it might be an interesting challenge.

 

POST 82: DR. OTTO BRUCK IN THE BRITISH ARMY

 

Figure 1. My father, Dr. Otto Bruck, in his British Army uniform in Sétif, Algeria in the Summer of 1944

 

Note: In this post, I discuss the limited amount I know about my father’s 2 years and 224 days in the British Army as a member of the 338th Royal Pioneer Corps. (Figure 1) Like his five-years in the French Foreign Legion, his tour of duty in the British Army began in Algeria, though it ended in Italy. I also talk about his reason for enlisting in the English Army, and, as in previous posts, provide some historical context.

Related Posts:

Post 79: Dr. Otto Bruck’s Path to the French Foreign Legion

Post 80: Dr. Otto Bruck in the French Foreign Legion

Post 81: Photo Essay of Dr. Otto Bruck’s Time in the French Foreign Legion

Between January 30, 1933 and May 8, 1945, there were two main laws pertaining to the loss of German citizenship. This not only affected Jews, but also Communists, Socialists, members of the Social Democratic party, conscientious objectors, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and Quakers. The “Law on the Revocation of Naturalizations and the Deprivation of the German Citizenship” of July 14, 1933, deprived some persons of their German citizenship individually. Their names were listed in the “Reichsgesetzblatt” (Reich Law Gazette), and with publication of the particular “Reichsgesetzblatt” they lost their German citizenship.

The main group of former German citizens, however, lost their citizenship with the “Eleventh Decree to the Law on the Citizenship of the Reich” of November 25, 1941. This decree stripped Jews of their remaining rights, and stipulated that Jews living outside Germany were no longer German citizens. Deprived of their citizenship and their passports nullified, this effectively stranded in place Jews who had left Germany in the years before or shortly after the beginning of WWII.

As a related aside, ancestry.com has a searchable database entitled “Germany, Index of Jews Whose German Nationality was Annulled by Nazi Regime, 1935-1944,” where the names of individuals whose nationality was rescinded can be entered.

I previously explained to readers that my father left Germany in March 1938 and enlisted in the French Foreign Legion in November 1938. Enlistment in the Legion did not convey French citizenship unless one served at least three tours of duty or was seriously wounded during a military operation. Thus, the Nazi decree of November 25, 1941 stripping Jews living outside Germany of their citizenship effectively rendered Jews, including my father, “stateless.” While he was still a member of the Legion in November 1941 with two additional years of service to fulfill, my father no doubt began to consider what options might be available when his tour of duty ended.

Figure 2. My father’s demobilization document from the French Foreign Legion

 

My father’s five-year enlistment in the Legion ended on the 13th of November 1943 when he was demobilized in Colomb-Béchar, Algeria (Figure 2); two days later, on the 15th of November 1943, he joined the British Pioneer Corps in Algers, Algeria, and reported to Sétif, in northeastern Algeria. (Figure 3) The Pioneer Corps was apparently the only British military unit in which “enemy aliens” could serve (Figure 4); an enemy alien is a citizen of one country living in another country with which it is at war and technically viewed as suspect as a result. According to what my father told me, he switched to the English Army in the hope that after WWII was over, he would be admitted to England and could resume his dental career there. While my father never fully explained the circumstances, it seems a fellow soldier stole his identity and committed a misdeed for which my father was blamed making his entry into England impossible.

 

Figure 3. Political map of Algeria with Colomb-Béchar and Sétif, Algeria circled; Béchar is where my father was demobilized from the French Foreign Legion, and Sétif is where he was garrisoned with the English Army

 

Figure 4. English Army Recruitment Poster calling on men 30 to 50 years of age to join the Pioneer Corps

 

Thousands of German nationals joined the Pioneer Corps to assist Allied war efforts and the liberation of their home country. (Figure 5-6) Typically, they were Jews and political dissidents who’d fled. Unlike the French Foreign Legion, German refugees were not given anonymous names. Obviously, serving as a German national in the British forces was especially dangerous because, in case they were captured, there was a high probability of being executed, either for being a traitor or for being Jewish. Nonetheless, the number of German-born Jews joining the British forces was exceptionally high; by the end of the war, one in seven Jewish refugees from Germany had joined the British forces. Their knowledge of the German language and customs proved particularly useful; many served in the administration of the British occupation army in Germany and Austria following the war.

 

Figure 5. My father on leave from the English Army visiting one of his French Foreign Legion buddies in Ouargla on July 15, 1944
Figure 6. My father in his British Army uniform in Sétif in August 1944

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 7a. Side 1 of my dad’s “Certificate of Demobilization” from the English Army dated June 30, 1946, translated into French
Figure 7a. Side 2 of my dad’s “Certificate of Demobilization” from the English Army dated June 30, 1946, translated into French

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 8. My father’s English Army “Star of Italy” and ribbon (consisting of five vertical stripes of equal width, one in red at either edge and one in green at the center, with two intervening stripes in white)

Among my father’s surviving papers is his “Certificate of Demobilization” (Figures 7a-b) from the English Army, translated into French, as my father was then living and working illegally as a dentist in Nice, France. The certificate indicates my father served in North Africa and Italy from the 19th of November 1943 until the 5th of May 1946, obviously as part of the occupation army after the war ended. He was awarded the Star of Italy (Figure 8) for his involvement in the military campaign there. At the time of his demobilization on the 30th of June 1946, either in Naples or Rome, my father was a private receiving the pay of a corporal. My father served a combined 2 years 224 days in the English Army. (Figures 9a-b, 10) Unlike with the French Foreign Legion, I was unsuccessful obtaining a copy of my father’s military dossier from the United Kingdom’s “Army Personnel Centre” in Glasgow. This is conjecture on my part, but possibly because my father enlisted in Algeria rather than the United Kingdom, the military dossiers for enlistees in North Africa are archived elsewhere. My primary interest in retrieving this file would be obtaining clues on why my father was unable to immigrate to England, an event that would have been transformative.

 

Figure 9a. Frontside of my father’s “War Medal 1939-45” and ribbon (consisting of a narrow central red stripe with a narrow white stripe on either edge, along with a broad red stripe at either edge with two intervening stripes in blue)
Figure 9b. Backside of my father’s “War Medal 1939-45” and ribbon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 10. My father and his English Army buddies in Rome, Italy in September 1945 with St. Peter’s Basilica in the background

 

 

 

POST 77: MY FATHER’S FRIEND, DR. HERBERT HOLST, VICE-PRESIDENT OF TIEGENHOF’S “CLUB RUSCHAU”

Note: In this post, I discuss a man with whom my father was once friends, Dr. Herbert Holst, a teacher by profession, and Vice-President of Tiegenhof’s Club Ruschau.

Related Posts:

Post 2: Dr. Otto Bruck & Tiegenhof: Juergen “Peter” Lau

Post 76: My Father’s Friend, Dr. Franz Schimanski, President of Tiegenhof’s “Club Ruschau”

 

 

Figure 1. Dr. Herbert Holst, Vice-President President of the Club Ruschau, Spring of 1933

 

 

In the previous post, I discussed what I learned about my father’s erstwhile friend Dr. Franz Schimanski. He was a lawyer and notary by profession, and the President of the Club Ruschau, the sports organization my father was a member of in Tiegenhof [today: Nowy Dwór Gdański, Poland]. This is the town in Freistaat Danzig (Free State of Danzig) where my father had his dental practice between 1932 and 1937. In this post, I turn my attention to Dr. Schimanski’s deputy in the Club Ruschau, Dr. Herbert Holst (Figure 1), another former friend, to relate the little I know about him. As with the previous post, I owe a debt of gratitude to Mr. Peter Hanke from “danzig.forum.de,” who uncovered much of the information I relate below.

Around 2012, I began my forensic investigations into my father and his family prompted by seven albums of photos my dad bequeathed me covering from the late 1910’s until his departure for America in 1948. Two of these albums include photos exclusively from the five years my father spent in Tiegenhof and the Free State of Danzig. While many of the images are labelled, often they include only the people’s forenames or nicknames, making it difficult to figure out who they were, how they were connected to my father, and what might have happened to them.

 

Figure 2. Lolo and Peter Lau, on the terrace of the Hotel Jagdschloss in Vienna, Austria in June 1963

 

Figure 3. Lolo and Peter Lau in Oberhausen, Germany in May 2012 when my wife and I visited them there

 

 

Around the time I was trying to make sense of my father’s collection of portraits, my mother reminded me about two aged friends of his both born in Danzig [today: Gdańsk, Poland], Peter (b. 1923) and Lolo Lau (b. 1925). I wrote about this couple in Post 2, and my visit to see them in Germany in 2012. (Figures 2-3) Peter Lau lived in Tiegenhof from around age 5 to 15, when his father, Kurt Lau (Figure 4), was the Managing Director of the “Tieghenhofer Oelmühle,” the rapeseed oil mill there. For this reason, he recognized many of the people in my father’s pictures and told me the fates of some of them. Interestingly, though Lolo Lau never lived in Tiegenhof, one person she recognized among my father’s photos was Dr. H. Holst, the Vice President of Tiegenhof’s Club Ruschau; she recognized him because he’d seemingly moved to Danzig and been a teacher at the Gymnasium, high school, she attended there. Lolo could not remember what subject he taught, nor, for that matter, his first name, which Peter Hanke recently discovered.

 

Figure 4. Kurt Lau, Peter Lau’s father, second from the left, in Tiegenhof in 1943, surrounded by business associates

 

I was able to confirm Dr. Herbert Holst indeed relocated from Tiegenhof based on listings for him in Danzig Address Books for 1940-41 (Figure 5) and 1942 (Figure 6), indicating he’d lived at Adolf Hitlerstraße 97. In these directories, his profession is listed as “Studienrat,” which is an obsolete term for high school professor or teacher.

 

Figure 5. Page from the 1940-41 Danzig Address Book with Dr. Herbert Holst listed as a “Studienrat,” high school teacher, living at Adolf Hitlerstraße 97
Figure 6. Page from the 1942 Danzig Address Book with Dr. Herbert Holst listed as a “Studienrat,” high school teacher, living at Adolf Hitlerstraße 97

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 7. Cover of Hubert Hundrieser’s 1989 book “Es begann in Masuren: Meinen Kindern erzählt (It Began in Masuria: I Told My Children),” which includes a section about his math teacher from Tiegenhof, Dr. Herbert Holst
Figure 8. Map of Masuria (German: Masuren; Polish: Mazury), once located in East Prussia (Source: Own work, na podstawie: Marian Biskup “Szkice z dziejów Pomorza,” t. 1, Warszawa 1958 oraz M. Biskup, G. Labuda “Dzieje Zakonu Krzyżackiego w Prusach,” Gdańsk 1986 (mapa na str. 439))

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Astonishingly, Peter Hanke found a book written by a gentleman named Hubert Hundrieser, entitled “Es begann in Masuren: Meinen Kindern erzählt (It Began in Masuria: I Told My Children)” (Figures 7-8), who was a student of Dr. Herbert Holst in the early 1930’s for about 18 months in Tiegenhof and wrote kind words about him (1989: p. 98-99). Peter graciously translated these lines for me (I’ve added footnotes to clarify a few things): 

My mathematics teacher was a bachelor, Dr. Holst, who always gave himself up to being distinguished. I was truly sorry that I had to disappoint him in his subject. It seemed almost embarrassing to him to have to return my mathematics work to me with the grade ‘unsatisfactory’ (a) that I was used to and undoubtedly deserved.

After a teachers’ conference he took me aside, as he had done several times before. He couldn’t make any sense of the fact that I, who would have achieved the grades ‘good’ in the main subjects German, Latin and English, failed so completely in his subject. He offered private tutoring (b). There he wanted to find out, outside the scholarly setting, when and where my mathematical knowledge stopped or began

After the most recent comprehensive examination he could not help but let his arms sink helplessly. . .because with the latest ‘Tertian’ (c) material my mathematical knowledge was lost in impenetrable fog wafts. But Dr. Holst did not dismiss me with a devastating verdict or with the prophecy that I would amount to nothing. Instead, he had his landlady bring us coffee. With the remark that as a future Obersekundaner (d), this once he offered me a cigar (e), and we talked for an hour about things that had nothing to do with school.

Before I said goodbye, he encouraged me. If I could only keep my good grades in languages, I could also have a grade with bad results in his subject, and certainly there would be an angle in my later life where mathematical ignorance would not be decisive.

 

(a) At the time grades ranged from 1 (best) to 6 (worst). The “unsatisfactory (ungenügend)” corresponded to “6.”

(b) These lessons were not held in the school building but in the teacher’s apartment. Essentially, Dr. Holst was offering a “school psychological evaluation” to understand the reasons for Hubert Hundrieser’s failure in the mathematical field.

(c) “Tertia” corresponded with mathematical knowledge of grades 8-9 which was inadequate for the 10th or 11th grades, “Sekunda.”

(d) The next-to-last year of high school before the “Oberprima.”

(e) This was a one-time thing, because at that time it was strictly forbidden for “Tertia” students to smoke, ergo the reference to the student’s soon-to-be status as a “Sekunda” student, when smoking would be permitted.

 

From these few lines, we learn that Dr. Holst was a mathematics teacher.

Peter Hanke uncovered what’s called a “Beamten-Jahrbuch 1939,” that’s to say, a “Civil Servant Yearbook” (Figure 9) for all the civil servants working in Danzig in 1939, including Dr. Holst. Figure 10a includes a partial list of teachers who taught there at the time, the schools where they taught, their birthdays, and their Service Date.

 

Figure 9. Cover of Danzig’s “Beamten-Jahrbuch 1939,” Civil Servant Yearbook
Figure 10a. Page from Danzig’s 1939 Civil Servant Yearbook with the list of teachers including the name of Dr. Herbert Holst

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 10b. Line from Danzig’s 1939 Civil Servant Yearbook with Dr. Herbert Holst’s information

 

Below is a table transcribing and translating the column headers, and detailing the information specifically for Dr. Holst (Figure 10b):

 

Column 1 (German), Translation & Information for Dr. Holst Column 2 (German), Translation & Information for Dr. Holst Column 3 (German), Translation & Information for Dr. Holst Column 4 (German), Translation & Information for Dr. Holst Column 5 (German), Translation & Information for Dr. Holst Column 6 (German), Translation & Information for Dr. Holst
           
Amtsbezeichnung Name Dienstort, Behörde (Amt, Schule) Wohnort, Wohnung Geburtstag Dienstalter
Official title Name Place of employment, authority (office, school) Place of residence, apartment Birthday Seniority (i.e., Service Date)
StudRat (Studienrat)=teacher, professor Dr. Herbert Holst Lfr GudrS  (Langfuhr Gudrun-Schule) Ad. Hitlerstr. 97 (Adolf-Hitlerstraße 97) 25th August 1894 1st May 1928

 

From the above we learn that Dr. Holst was born on the 25th of August 1894, that he began teaching on the 1st of May 1928, and that he taught at the Gudrun-Schule (i.e., Helene Lange School) (Figures 11a-c) located in the Danzig borough of Langfuhr. Peter found one additional item, a roster of teachers from the Gudrun-Schule listing Dr. Holst as one of its professors. (Figure 12)

Figure 11a. Classroom level at the Helene Lange School between 1929-1938
Figure 11b. Courtyard at the Helene Lange School between 1929-1938

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 11c. East side of the Helene Lange School between 1929-1938
Figure 12. Roster of teachers at the “Gudrun-Schule” including Dr. Herbert Holst

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I discussed in the previous post, on account of the removal of all Germans following WWII from much of what is today again Poland, it’s been impossible to learn what may have happened to Dr. Holst. Possibly, someone with knowledge of his fate will stumble upon this post and contact me with information.

POST 76: MY FATHER’S FRIEND, DR. FRANZ SCHIMANSKI, PRESIDENT OF TIEGENHOF’S “CLUB RUSCHAU”

Note: I continue my forensic investigations into people my father, Dr. Otto Bruck, knew during the five years he lived in Tiegenhof, in the Free State of Danzig. In this post, I discuss a man who befriended him named Dr. Franz Schimanski, a lawyer and notary by profession, and President of the Club Ruschau.  The fate of such people, though not family, has always intrigued me, and I’m continuously trying to locate some of their descendants.

Related Posts:

Post 6: Dr. Otto Bruck & Tiegenhof: 1932 Pocket Calendar

Post 7: Dr. Otto Bruck & Tiegenhof: The Club Ruschau

 

Figure 1. Dr. Franz Schimanski, President of the Club Ruschau, Spring of 1933

 

 

I return in this post and the ensuing one to Tiegenhof [today: Nowy Dwór Gdański, Poland], the town in the Free State of Danzig where my father briefly had his dental practice between April 1932 and April 1937. I’ll talk about two men who were, respectively, the President and Vice-President of the “Club Ruschau,” the local sports club my dad joined with whose members he regularly socialized. The President was Dr. Franz Schimanski (Figure 1), and his deputy was Dr. Herbert Holst, both of whom I discussed in Post 7. My father would no doubt once have characterized these people as good friends given the numerous pictures of them which survive among his photos.

Finding out what happened or may have happened to people from Tiegenhof and Danzig who were once within my father’s orbit of friends, acquaintances and professional colleagues has always piqued my interest. Because of the turbulence, movements and vast relocations in this part of Europe during WWII, and the eventual ouster of Germans from the area after the war, it is particularly challenging to track down what happened to some of the people my father knew. As regular readers know, I’ve already related the fates of some of them. I tell these stories dispassionately since I have no idea how my dad’s relationship with these people ended in the era of National Socialism. The only thing my father ever said about this is that by the time he left Tiegenhof in 1937, he no longer had any dental clients and knew few people who still acknowledged his existence. I can only imagine how heartrending and dangerous this must have been.

Thanks to the intervention of Mr. Peter Hanke, my acquaintance from “forum.danzig.de,” recently I’ve learned a little more about Dr. Schimanski. There are major gaps in my understanding of his life, and unlike other people my father knew from Tiegenhof, I’ve yet to track down any of his descendants. Let me briefly review what I know for sure, what I surmise, and what Peter has recently uncovered about Dr. Schimanski.

 

Figure 2. Page from the 1925 Address Book for “Kreis Großes Werder” identifying Dr. Franz Schimanski as a “Rechtsanwalt und Notar,” lawyer and notary
Figure 3. Page from the 1930 Address Book for “Kreis Großes Werder” identifying Dr. Franz Schimanski as a “Rechtsanwalt,” lawyer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From Address Books for the District in which Dr. Franz Schimanski resided, Kreis Großes Werder im Freistaat Danzig, listings in 1925 (Figure 2) and 1930 (Figure 3) directories show him to have been a “Rechtsanwalt und Notar,” a lawyer and notary. Two newspaper articles Peter found in Die Presse. Ostmärkische Tageszeitung. Anzeiger für Stadt und Land. (The Press. Ostmärkische Daily Newspaper. Gazette for City and Country.) (Figure 4) from 1912 first announce Dr. Schimanski’s appointment as notary (Figure 5), then several days later provide background (Figure 6):

 

Figure 4. Cover page of the 18th of August 1912 “Die Presse. Ostmärkische Tageszeitung. Anzeiger für Stadt und Land. (The Press. Ostmärkische Daily Newspaper. Gazette for City and Country.),” mentioning Dr. Schimanski

 

Figure 5. Brief article from “Die Presse,” dated the 17th of August 1912, reporting on Dr. Schimanski’s appointment as Tiegenhof’s notary

 

Thorn [today: Torun, Poland], the 17th of August 1912, page 2:

Transcription:

(Personalien bei der Justizt.) Der Rechtsanwalt Dr. Schimanski in Tiegenhof ist zum Notar dortselbst ernannt. . .

Translation:

“(Personal details of the Judiciary.) The lawyer Dr. Schimanski in Tiegenhof is appointed the notary there. . .”

 

Figure 6. Article from “Die Presse,” dated the 20th of August 1912, providing the background that led to Dr. Schimanski’s appointment as Tiegenhof’s notary

 

Thorn [today: Torun, Poland], the 20th of August 1912, page 6:

Transcription:

“Tiegenhof, 20. August. (Drei Rechtsanwälte)
hat sich unser Städtchen in den letzten Wochen ge-
leistet. Die Überfüllung der Juristenlaufbahn be-
dingt, daß viele Assessoren nicht in den Staatsdienst
aufgenommen werden. Der Überschuß ist auf die
Rechtsanwaltschaft angewiesen. Wird nun in einem
Ort durch Fortzug oder Tod eine Anwaltsstelle frei,
so sind gleich viele Bewerber auf dem Posten. So
war es auch hier. Herr Justizrat Künstler siedelte
als lebenslänglicher Notar nach Berlin über.
Darauf ließen sich die Herren Gerichtsassessor Dr.
Schimanski aus Stuhm und Rechtsanwalt Selleneit
in die Liste der Rechtsanwälte beim hiesigen Gericht
eintragen. Beide konnten sich jedoch hier nicht be-
haupten, da hier noch ein dritter tätig ist. Es han-
delte sich also bei den beiden neuen Herren darum,
wer das Notariat bekommen würde, denn von den
Einnahmen eines Rechtsanwalts allein kann in
dem kleinen Bezirk der dritte Herr nicht bestehen,
und mehr als zwei Notarstellen sind hier nicht vor-
gesehen. Es schweben zwar schon lange Gerüchte
darüber, daß unser Amtsgerichtsbezirk durch den
rechts der Weichsel belegenen Teil des Kreises Dan-
ziger Niederung vergrößert werden soll, doch liegt
die Verwirklichung dieses Wunsches noch in weitem
Felde. Infolgedessen wird der nicht zum Notar er-
nannte Rechtsanwalt unsere Stadt wieder verlassen.”

Translation (using DeepL Translator):

“Tiegenhof, 20 August. Our town has afforded itself three lawyers in the last few weeks. The overcrowding of the legal career means that many assessors are not accepted into the civil service. The surplus is dependent on the legal profession. If a lawyer’s position becomes vacant in a town as a result of a move away or death, the same number of applicants are on the job. So it was also here. Mr. Justizrat Künstler moved to Berlin as a lifelong notary. Then the court assessor Dr. Schimanski from Stuhm and lawyer Selleneit joined the list of lawyers at the local court. Both could not assert themselves here, however, since here still a third one is active. So the two new gentlemen were concerned with who would receive the notary’s office, because the third gentleman cannot exist in the small district from the income of a lawyer alone, and more than two notary offices are not provided for here. Although there have been rumors for a long time that our court district is to be enlarged by the part of the district of Gdansk’s lowlands to the right of the Vistula, the realization of this wish is still a long way off. As a result, the lawyer, who was not appointed a notary, will leave our city again.”

 

Figure 7. Copy of an original document with Dr. Franz Schimanski’s seal and signature dated the 15th of July 1913 that Mr. Peter Hanke found for sale on eBay

 

One of the most remarkable things Peter found related to Dr. Schimanski, he located, of all places, on eBay! He discovered an original document with Dr. Schimanski’s signature and seal, dated the 15th of July 1913 (Figure 7), from shortly after he was appointed notary in Tiegenhof. From this document, we can determine that one of the earliest projects he worked on was a contract for construction of a narrow-gauge railroad.

 

Figure 8. Page from my father’s 1932 Pocket Calendar reporting on the exact date he arrived in Tiegenhof, the 9th of April 1932

 

Figure 9. My father’s membership papers to the “V.f.B., Tiegenhof, Baltischer Sportverband,” dated the 12th of November 1932

 

My father arrived in Tiegenhof according to his Pocket Calendar (see Post 6) precisely on the 9th of April 1932 (Figure 8), exactly one week before his 25th birthday. Throughout his life, my dad was an active sportsman, and he wasted no time applying for membership to the local sports club, the “V. f. B. Tiegenhof, Baltischer Sportverband (Baltic Sports Federation),” to which he was accepted on the 12th of November 1932. (Figure 9) While this was ostensibly a sports club (Figure 10), in order to be accepted by the businessmen and social elite, one clearly had to be a member of civic organizations in town, particularly if one expected to have a successful dental practice. Many of the club’s social events appear to have taken place at the Club Ruschau, located in Petershagen [today: Zelichowo, Poland], just outside Tiegenhof. Mr. Marek Opitz, the current director of the Zulawskie Museum in Nowy Dwór Gdański, was unaware of the club’s existence until I asked him about it and sent him photos. I discussed in Post 7 how Mr. Opitz was able to locate one of the Club’s surviving buildings, to which he took me and my wife on one of our visits to Nowy Dwór Gdański. (Figure 11)

 

Figure 10. My father recreating at the Club Ruschau
Figure 11. Me in 2012 at the entrance to the only surviving building of what was once the Club Ruschau with my hand on the original doorknob

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 12. The regular members of the Club Ruschau, including Dr. Franz Schimanski with his cane in hand, in June 1932, several months before my father’s formal admittance to the “V.f.B., Tiegenhof, Baltischer Sportverband”

 

 

Numerous of the photos of Dr. Schimanski and other members were taken at the Club Ruschau. (Figure 12) In multiple photos, he is shown holding a cane. I surmise Dr. Schimanski was a veteran of WWI and was wounded in theater. Ancestry.com has numerous WWI German Casualty Lists, identifying those killed and wounded in action.  I attach a single example with a “Franz Schimanski” listed; in this case, the number “15.6” (i.e., 15th of June) follows the name. (Figure 13) This may correspond to the month and day of birth, or, just as likely, to the day the person was killed or wounded. Regardless, I have no knowledge this Franz Schimanski was my father’s friend. I only know from other pictures in my father’s photo albums that Dr. Schimanski was born in June, year unspecified, based on a birthday party held in his honor that month in 1933. I’m not a very good judge of age, but I would gauge Dr. Schimanski was born around 1880, give or take a few years. If he went to war in 1914, he would have been around 34, seemingly old to be a foot soldier, although Peter Hanke found a secondary source which indicates about 30% of German soldiers were that age or older during WWI. To date, I’ve been unable to locate any primary birth, marriage or death records definitively related to Dr. Schimanski. This was a very common surname in Kreis Großes Werder, and in fact in the 1935 Danzig address book alone, there are 98 listings for Schimanski!

Figure 13. German WWI Casualty List dated the 17th of July 1918 with the name of a Franz Schimanski circled, not necessarily my father’s friend

 

Several pictures among my father’s collection show Dr. Schimanski with who I think is his wife and three adult daughters. (Figure 14) Unlike most of his other pictures, he doesn’t identify the ladies by name but merely refers to them as Lieblinge, “darlings.” My dad clearly had a sweet spot for Dr. Schimanski’s family. Regardless, his pictures give no further clues I can pursue to determine the fate of Dr. Schimanski’s family.

 

Figure 14. Dr. Franz Schimanski standing next to his wife and three seated daughters, bookended by Kastret Romanowski on the left, another friend, and my father on the right

 

 

Figure 15. The “Totenkarte,” death card, from the “Heimatortkartei Danzig-Westpreußen” for Dr. Schimanski, showing he died in 1940 and that the information was reported by the “Rechtsanwalt” Dr. Kurt Heidebrecht

 

Figure 16. Listing from the 1942 “Amtliches Fernsprechbuch für den Bezirk der Reichspostdirektion” for Dr. Kurt Heidebrecht, a presumed colleague of Dr. Schimanski who reported only that Franz died sometime in 1940

 

 

 

The Totenkarte, death card, from the Heimatortkartei Danzig-Westpreußen database for Dr. Schimanski (Figure 15) indicates only he died in 1940. The information was reported by a Dr. Kurt Heidebrecht, who is listed in the Amtliches Fernsprechbuch für den Bezirk der Reichspostdirektion Danzig 1942 (Official telephone directory for the district of the Reichspostdirektion Danzig 1942) as a Rechtsanwalt u. Notar, lawyer and notary (Figure 16), just as Dr. Schimanski was. I assume Drs. Heidebrecht and Schimanski were once colleagues. Peter Hanke was able to find a Heidebrecht living in Hamburg, Germany who may be a descendant of Kurt Heidebrecht. I’ve written a letter to this person hoping he is related and may be able to tell me what happened to Dr. Schimanski and his family. Watch this space for further developments.

POST 67: THE SUSPICIOUSLY BRUTAL DEATHS OF MY FATHER’S PROTESTANT FRIENDS FROM DANZIG, GERHARD & ILSE HOPPE (PART I)

Note: This post is about two of my father’s former friends, non-Jews, from his time living in the Free State of Danzig in the 1930’s, and information I recently uncovered about their peculiar deaths.

Related Posts:
Post 6: Dr. Otto Bruck & Tiegenhof: 1932 Pocket Calendar
Post 38: The Evidence of My Father’s Conversion To Christianity

Figure 1. My father, Dr. Otto Bruck, in Winter 1930-1931 in Danzig
Figure 2. My father, Dr. Otto Bruck, as a young dentist in Tiegenhof

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My father, Dr, Otto Bruck, received his dental accreditation from the University of Berlin’s Zahnheilkunde Institut, Dentistry Institute, on the 31st of May 1930. This was followed by two brief dental apprenticeships, first in Königsbrück, in the Free State of Saxony, Germany, then in Allenstein, Germany [today: Olsztyn, Poland]. These lasted until about mid-August 1930 according to letters of recommendation written by the two respective dentists. My father did not open his own dental practice in Tiegenhof, Free State of Danzig [today: Nowy Dwór Gdański, Poland] until April 1932, so inasmuch as I can surmise from surviving letters and photos, my father spent the intervening period apprenticing in the Free City of Danzig. (Figures 1-2) He may have been mentored by a Dr. Fritz Bertram, a dentist whom he took pictures of (Figure 3) and who is identified by name in his surviving pocket calendar (Figure 4), the subject of Post 6.

Figure 3. Zahnarzt (dentist) Dr. Fritz Bertram sailing in the Bay of Danzig with friends on the 18th of April 1931; Dr. Bertram may have mentored my father
Figure 4. Page from my father’s 1932 Pocket Calendar listing a few names and phone numbers of business associates, notably, Dr. Fritz Bertram and Dr. Gerhard Hoppe

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As a brief aside, my father’s decision to relocate to Danzig from Berlin may have been prompted by the fact he had an aunt and uncle who lived there, and that he was close to at least two of their three children (Figures 5-6), who interestingly I met when I was a young boy.

Figure 5. One of my father’s first cousins, Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Loewenstein (1902-1986), on the 8th of March 1929 in Danzig, a cousin he may temporarily have stayed with while he was apprenticing there
Figure 6. Another of my father’s first cousins from Danzig, Heinz Loewenstein (1905-1979), brother of Hansi Goff

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In any case, a gentleman whom my father befriended in Danzig was named Gerhard Hoppe. (Figure 7) As I discussed in Post 6, I learned from a 1934 Danzig Address Book that, like my father, he too was a dentist, in the adjacent town of Neuteich, Free State of Danzig [today: Nowy Staw, Poland] (Figure 8), 8.8 miles southwest of Tiegenhof. Possibly, Gerhard, who appears from pictures to have been about the same age as my father, may also have been a dental apprentice when he and my father became friends. (Figure 9)

Figure 7. The earliest of my father’s pictures of his former friend from Danzig, Dr. Gerhard Hoppe, with whom he may have apprenticed
Figure 8. Page from the 1934 Danzig Address Book listing dentists in the Free State of Danzig with both my father and Dr. Gerhard Hoppe from Neuteich listed; my father’s first name is erroneously listed as “Heinz” when his actual first name was “Otto” although the address of his dental practice, Markstrasse 8, is correct

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 9. Dr. Gerhard Hoppe as a young man
Figure 10. My father with Gerhard & Ilse Hoppe walking along Wollwebergasse in Danzig during the Winter of 1931-1932

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gerhard and his girlfriend Ilse (Figure 10) are among a group of my father’s former friends whose fates I’ve so far been unable to determine; pictures exist of all of them in my father’s surviving photo albums. These friends were non-Jewish, and I refer to them as “former” friends since during the Nazi era they would have been under enormous pressure to disassociate themselves from any Jews and any businesses they might have run. So, in the case of my father, I know that while he still had a few non-Jewish friends who whom he socialized, he no longer had any dental clients by the time he shuttered his practice and left Tiegenhof for good in 1937. The relationship he had with these erstwhile friends may have been more nuanced, but I don’t know this for a fact. Judging from the dates on my father’s pictures, after mid-1936, his circle of friends had narrowed considerably.

I’ve told readers that I periodically recheck these one-time friends’ names in ancestry.com and other ancestral databases. I recently did this again with Gerhard and Ilse, and, astoundingly, uncovered historic documents related to both. I tell myself I should perhaps be less surprised I discover new documents, and more bewildered I did not find them during earlier searches. Regardless, my recent finds have allowed me to sadly put to rest the fate of Gerhard and Ilse Hoppe. But, like most of the mysteries I seemingly resolve, they are like the mythological hydra, lop off one head and two grow in its place.

The search parameters I entered in ancestry.com were simply Gerhard’s first and last name, a place he might have lived, Danzig in this case, and the year I estimated he was born, so 1907, the same year my father was born. I immediately discovered his marriage certificate (Figures 11a-c), and the marriage register with he and his wife’s names, and their respective parents’ names. (Figure 12a-b)

Figure 11a. Ancestry.com cover page of Gerhard Hoppe & Ilse Hoppe née Grabowsky’s marriage certificate showing they were married on the 30th of July 1932 in Marienburg
Figure 11b. Page 1 of Gerhard Hoppe & Ilse Hoppe née Grabowsky’s marriage certificate
Figure 11c. Page 2 of Gerhard Hoppe & Ilse Hoppe née Grabowsky’s marriage certificate with the names of witnesses

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 12a. Ancestry.com cover page of marriage register listing for Gerhard Hoppe & Ilse Hoppe née Grabowsky
Figure 12b. Marriage register listing for Gerhard Hoppe & Ilse Hoppe née Grabowsky

 

The two-page marriage certificate, among other things, provides Gerhard’s complete name: “Gerhard Ludwig Rudolf Otto Hoppe”; his date of birth: 18th of February 1908; the date and place he was married: 30th of July 1932, Marienburg [today: Malbork, Poland] (Figure 13); his wife’s complete birth name: “Frida Charlotte Ilse Grabowsky” (also ending in “i” in some documents); his wife’s date of birth: 3rd of August 1907; and Gerhard’s profession: “Zahnarzt,” dentist. Three things instantly confirmed I had found the “right” Gerhard Hoppe: his date of birth off by one day from the date listed in my father’s pocket calendar (Figure 14), his wife’s name, Ilse, and his profession, dentist. Very likely, my father would have attended Gerhard and Ilse’s 1932 wedding. The second page of German marriage certificates typically list witnesses, but unfortunately my father’s name is not among them.

Figure 13. Photo taken by my father of the Castle of the Teutonic Order in Marienburg, today Malbork, the town where Gerhard & Ilse Hoppe were married in 1932
Figure 14. Page from my father’s 1932 Pocket Calendar showing Gerhard’s Hoppe birthday was on the 17th of February when in fact it was on the 18th of February

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I would eventually locate documents for three generations of Gerhard and Ilse’s ancestors.

Now, here’s where things began to seriously stray from my preconceived notion of Gerhard and Ilse’s fates. With Ilse’s maiden name in hand, “Grabowsky,” I was now able to search entries for her. The first document I found for her was her death certificate showing she’d died on the 15th of April 1940 in the Langfuhr borough of Danzig (Figures 15a-b), known today as Gdansk-Wrzeszcz, the most upscale of Danzig’s boroughs, then and now. This document shows she died at less than 33 years of age, somewhat surprising but perhaps not so unusual given wartime realities. Shortly after discovering Ilse’s death certificate, I found Gerhard’s death record, showing he’d died on the 27th of July 1941 (Figures 16a-b), a little more than a year after his wife, also in Danzig-Langfuhr; at the time of his death he was 33, only slightly older than his wife had been. To say I was stupefied learning Ilse and Gerhard Hoppe had died so young, so soon after one another, and outside the theater of war would be an understatement.

Figure 15a. Ancestry.com cover page of Ilse Hoppe née Grabowsky’s death certificate identifying her parents, whom she pre-deceased, as Richard Grabowky(i) & Else Grabowsky(i) née Ehmer
Figure 15b. Ilse Hoppe née Grabowsky’s death certificate showing she supposedly committed suicide on the 15th of April 1940 in Danzig (her cause of death is circled)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 16a. Ancestry.com cover page of Gerhard Hoppe’s death certificate, listing his parents, whom he pre-deceased, as Otto Hoppe & Anna Hoppe née Birkholz
Figure 16b. Gerhard Hoppe’s death certificate showing he died on the 27th of July 1941 in Danzig (his cause of death is circled)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Immediately curious as to whether the death certificates listed their causes of death, I turned to Mr. Peter Hanke. He is a German gentleman from “forum.danzig.de” with whom I’m in touch and who’d recently offered to ask the Polish archive in Malbork, Poland for death certificates for some of my father’s former friends, including Gerhard and Ilse Hoppe. I wanted to let him know I’d found their death certificates and ask if the records stated how they died. The answer left both of us horrified and saddened.

Ilse Hoppe’s cause of death was listed as:

Todesursache: Durchschneiden der Halsschlagader (Selbstmord)” (Figure 15b)

Cause of death: cutting through the carotid artery (suicide)

And, Gerhard Hoppe’s death was caused by:

Todesursache: Schädelbruch und komplizierter Oberschenkelbruch links- und rechtsseitig” (Figure 16b)

Cause of death: skull fracture and complicated thigh fracture on the left and right sides

Gerhard and Ilse Hoppe’s deaths leave us with more questions than answers given their extreme violence; they seem more like murders than suicides or health-related deaths.

According to Peter Hanke, an implausible but not impossible explanation as to the cause of Gerhard’s death may relate to the location of his apartment. I mentioned above that a 1934 Danzig Address Book indicates Gerhard was a dentist in Neuteich, Free State of Danzig, although by 1940-1941, a Danzig Address Book shows he’d relocated to Danzig proper and lived at Karrenwall 5 (Figure 17); he is not listed in the 1939 Address Book (Figure 18), suggesting he moved to Danzig in 1940 before Ilse’s death (i.e., Ilse commits suicide in Danzig, not Neuteich). Old German Address Books list people alphabetically as well as by street address and occupation, and, interestingly, in 1940-1941, Karrenwall 5 shows that not only did Gerhard Hoppe reside there but so too did numerous bureaus of the Nazi Party, the NSDAP (Figure 19), a trend that continues into 1942. (Figure 20) Could it be that the Nazi Party wanted Gerhard’s apartment, and was not squeamish about asserting its interests? We may never know. Unfortunately, contemporary Danzig newspapers have not yet been digitized, although by 1941 the news outlets were most assuredly controlled by the Nazis and are not likely to provide an accurate portrayal of what might have happened to Gerhard.

Figure 17. Page from 1940-1941 Danzig Address Book showing Dr. Gerhard Hoppe’s dental office was located at “Theaterplace 30” while his apartment was at “Karrenwall 5”
Figure 18. Page from 1939 Danzig Address Book listing tenants at Karrenwall 5 that year

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 19. Page from 1940-1941 Danzig Address Book listing tenants at Karrenwall 5 that year, including Dr. Gerhard Hoppe and various bureaus of the Nazi Party, the NSDAP
Figure 20. Page from 1942 Danzig Address Book, the year following Dr. Gerhard Hoppe’s death, showing Karrenwall 5 still housed various bureaus of the Nazi Party, the NSDAP

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There exists a database of displaced Germans refugees from the former province of Danzig-Westpreußen, Germany, now Gdańsk and Bydgoszcz provinces in Poland, referred to as “Heimatortskartei, (HOK)” that include images of a civil register (handwritten and printed works); more than 20 million persons are included in these card files arranged by the town of origin. I discussed this database in Post 38. Peter Hanke checked the name “Hoppe” for Danzig, and, incredibly found HOK cards for Gerhard and Ilse’s daughter, Gisela Hoppe, born on the 24th of November 1939 in Danzig (Figure 21), and for Gerhard Hoppe’s parents, Otto Hoppe and Anna Hoppe née Birkholz (Figures 22a-b), who raised Gisela after her parents’ deaths. The timing of Ilse Hoppe’s supposed suicide less than a year after her daughter’s birth makes the cause of her death even more suspicious.

Figure 21. “Heimatortskartei, (HOK)” (File of Displaced Germans) card for Gerhard & Ilse Hoppe’s daughter, Gisela Hoppe, born on the 24th of November 1939, showing that in 1958 she lived in Bad Harzburg, Germany
Figure 22a. Front side of “Heimatortskartei, (HOK)” (File of Displaced Germans) card for Gerhard’s father, Otto Hoppe, showing his granddaughter Gisela Hoppe’s address in 1958
Figure 22b. Back side of “Heimatortskartei, (HOK)” (File of Displaced Germans) card for Otto Hoppe listing his wife, Anna Hoppe née Birkholz, and granddaughter, Gisela Hoppe

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gisela is shown living in Bad Harzburg, Germany in May 1958. As I prepare to publish this post, just this morning I learned that Gisela, who is about to turn 80 years of age towards the end of November, is still alive. As we speak, I’m trying to establish contact with her and share the multiple images I have of her parents. (Figures 23-24) Watch this space for Part II of the story!

Figure 23. Gerhard & Ilse Hoppe on the beach in Zoppot, Germany [today: Sopot, Poland]
Figure 24. Gerhard & Ilse Hoppe

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

POST 26: “APATRIDE” (STATELESS)

Note:  This story relates to the brief time between 1946 and 1948 when my father, Dr. Otto Bruck, worked illegally as a dentist in Nice, France.

The Nazi’s “Reich Citizen Law,” one of two Nuremberg Laws passed by the Reichstag on September 15, 1935, declared that only those of German or related blood were eligible to be Reich citizens; the remainder were classed as state subjects, without citizenship rights.  From this point forward, my father was “stateless.”

Figure 1-Vieux Nice is the city’s old town, characterized by narrow cobblestone streets and pastel-hued buildings

For me, this story begins more than 60 years ago in Nice, France, along la Côte d’Azur, when as a young boy I was in the company of my maternal grandmother and we were walking through Vieux Nice. (Figure 1)  I’m unsure what tricks time plays with memories, but I clearly remember my grandmother stopping along a street I would recognize many years later as Boulevard Jean Jaurès (Figure 2), pointing to a building on the windward side, and telling me my father had had his dental office there.  My grandmother knew this because my father had done extensive work on her teeth.  This may also have been when I first learned my father was Jewish.  It would be many years, in all honesty, before I would absorb the full significance of these facts.

Figure 2-Light rail running along Boulevard Jean Jaurès, much changed from when I was a young boy

In previous posts, I’ve mentioned having visited on multiple occasions Ratibor (today: Racibórz, Poland), where my father was born in 1907.  On my second visit there, in 2012, I met a gentleman at the Tourist Bureau, who, like myself, is a retired archaeologist.  He currently edits a journal, entitled the Almanach Prowincjonalny, and upon learning of my family’s connection to Ratibor, wondered whether I’d be interested in writing an article for this periodical.  I eagerly agreed, and in April 2013, my article was published. 

Figure 3-My father, Dr. Otto Bruck, in 1946 along Nice’s Promenade des Anglais

In writing this essay, I’d learned from my mother that my father had worked for a woman dentist by the name of Mme. Lotter between 1946 and 1948 in Nice.  Recall, this is the city where my parents first met, and where my dad settled after his release from the English Army in June 1946 because he had an aunt and cousins living there. (Figure 3)  Because Mme. Lotter was entirely disinterested in dentistry, my father essentially managed her dental practice.  This was an illegal arrangement because he was stateless, in French, “apatride,” and therefore not authorized to work in France. (Figures 4a & 4b)  The authorities eventually caught him in flagrante in 1948 and charged him with practicing dentistry illegally.  By this time, my father had obtained a visa for the United States which was predicated on not having a criminal record.  Rather than risk being denied entry into the States, my father absconded before his trial.

Figure 4a-My father’s French “Titre D’identité et De Voyage”

 

Figure 4b-My father’s French “Titre D’identité et De Voyage,” identifying him as “apatride,” or stateless

 

Fast forward now to 2014 when my wife and I visited l’Hôtel de Ville in Nice in search of information on my father’s aunt and cousins.  This was discussed in Post 16.  While waiting for assistance, I was left alone for some moments and encouraged to peruse the books containing les certificats de décès, the death certificates, so took the opportunity to check for deceased Lotters.  Having only this surname to work with, I systematically set myself to looking through the death certificates for the years starting with 1948, the year my father left France and Mme. Lotter was assuredly still alive. 

Figure 5a-Henri Lotter’s name listed in the Nice death register, alongside that of his wife, Simone Lotter-Jaubert (registration date does not correspond with the death date)

In the spirit of Branch Rickey’s mantra that “luck is the residue of design,” I quickly discovered a gentleman by the name of HENRI LOTTER who died on May 28, 1970.  Fortunately, there were only a handful of deceased Lotters, all men, but this individual caught my attention because it gave his divorced wife’s name, SIMONE JAUBERT. (Figures 5a & 5b)  I discovered she died on November 1, 1964. (Figure 6)   I requested copies of both of their death certificates, uncertain whether this Mme. Lotter-Jaubert was even a dentist. 

Figure 5b-Simone Lotter, née Jaubert, death register listing

 

Figure 6-Simone Lotter, née Jaubert, death certificate

 

 

Armed with these death certificates, I asked where the various people were buried.  I was directed to a different nearby office of l’Hôtel de Ville in Nice, Service De L’administration Funéraire, essentially the “Bureau of Cemeteries.”  Here we would make the acquaintance of Mme. Joelle Saramito, who, like other French bureaucrats I’ve met, was intrigued by an American who speaks fluent French; Mme. Saramito has helped me multiple times over the years including on one of my most spectacular discoveries, which will be the subject of a future post.  As fortune would have it, Mme. Lotter-Jaubert is buried alongside her husband in Cimitiere De Caucade (Figure 7), the same cemetery where my Aunt Hedwig Loewenstein, née Bruck, and her son, Fedor Löwenstein’s headstones are located.  While our visit to Cimitiere De Caucade allowed us to view all the tombstones simultaneously, it did not conclusively answer the question of whether this was the correct Mme. Lotter.

Figure 7-The graves of Simone Lotter, née Jaubert, buried alongside her divorced husband, Henri Lotter in Cimetière De Caucade

To answer this question, I revisited Mme. Saramito, and asked her where I might find Yellow Pages for Nice for the late 1940’s.  She directed us to the “Archives municipales de Nice” (Figure 8), on the western outskirts of Nice.  So, on July 4, 2014, we presented ourselves there to the “Président de salle” (Figure 9), literally, “President of the Hall.”  Unquestionably, this must be one of the most highfalutin titles I’ve ever come across.  Regardless, upon our arrival, I explained what I was looking for, and “Le Président” brought out several annuaires téléphoniques, telephone directories, for the period in question.  Much to my delight, in the 1947-48 annuaire, under the listing for “Dentistes,” I found “Lotter-Jaubert, Simone, place Saint-Francois 2” (Figures 10a & 10b), confirming that Mme. Simone Lotter had indeed been a dentist.  Simone’s ex-husband, Henry Lotter, I discovered had been un pharmacien, a pharmacist.

Figure 8-Entrance to “Ville De Nice Archives Communales”

 

Figure 9-The highfalutin title of “Président de salle”

 

Figure 10a-Listing in 1947-48 Nice telephone directory for “Dentistes”

 

 

Figure 10b-Listing in 1947-48 Nice telephone directory for “Lotter-Jaubert, Simone, place Saint-Francois 2” under the category of “Dentistes”

 

Figure 11-Entrance sign to “Vieux Nice”

There remained but one final thing for me to confirm, whether in fact a distant memory that the office building my grandmother had pointed to was indeed located in Vieux Nice. (Figure 11)  And, in fact, I was able to locate the still standing building at Place Saint-Francois 2, in the old section of Nice (Figures 12, 13 & 14).  This story proves that occasionally with only scant information to begin with, in my case just a surname and a 60-year old childhood memory, one can sometimes make extraordinary discoveries about one’s family.

Figure 12-The office building at “Place Saint-Francois 2” where my father worked for Mme. Simone Lotter
Figure 13-Street sign for “Place Saint Francois”

 

 

Figure 14-Entrance to “Place Saint-Francois 2”