POST 109 (PART 2): JOHANNA & RENATE BRUCK’S WARTIME TAGEBUCH (“DIARY”), YEARS 1942-1944

 

Note: In the second part of Post 109, I discuss the broader historic context in which Johanna and Renate Bruck, wife and daughter of my esteemed ancestor, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck (1872-1937), recorded the daily happenings in their lives between January 1942 and December 1944. Regrettably, their “Tagebuch” does not encompass the final few months of the war in Berlin through the surrender of the city on May 2, 1945. Thus, the circumstances of any hardships Johanna and Renate may have suffered in this period at the hands of the Russians and the Allies are unknown to us. Like in years 1940 and 1941, Johanna and Renate’s lives are replete with social engagements (getting together with friends; attending movies, plays, and operas; dining out; shopping; clothes fittings; etc.), distractions (tap, tennis, violin lessons), Renate’s amorous liaisons, and, most remarkably, multiple trips. With a few notable exceptions, the war passes almost unnoticed. I do not dwell on Johanna and Renate’s personal lives except where it adds nuance and texture to their accounts or provides some temporal context. From a story-telling perspective, I explore developments in the war and other happenings that while not explicitly discussed in the diary must have weighed on Johanna and Renate’s minds.

 

Related Posts:

POST 83: CASE STUDY USING THE UNITED KINGDOM’S “GENERAL REGISTER OFFICE” DATABASE TO FIND ANCESTORS

POST 108: RENATE BRUCK & MATTHIAS MEHNE’S “LONG-DISTANCE MARRIAGE”

POST 109 (PART 1): JOHANNA & RENATE BRUCK’S WARTIME TAGEBUCH (“DIARY”)—YEARS 1940-1941

 

As discussed in Post 109(1), in November and December 1941 Johanna Bruck transacted the exchange of her apartment in Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland] at Oranienstrasse 4, with one in Berlin occupied by a couple named the Günthers, located at Xantener Straße 24, in the Berlin district of Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf. Johanna physically relocated to Berlin in February 1942, followed several weeks later by Renate. Johanna used the intervening period to have the apartment completely refurbished and upgraded.

By September 1941 Johanna understood that Renate’s application for her to be treated “as an equal to German-blooded people” had been or would be rejected. Given how prominent Dr. Walter Bruck (Figures 1-2) had been in Breslau during his lifetime and the certainty the Nazis knew he was “racially” Jewish and that his daughter was a mischling of the first degree may have been the impetus for Johanna to move her daughter to Berlin; after all, by 1938, Renate Bruck had already been expelled from the “Oberlyzeum von Zawadzky,” the Upper Lyceum in the Zawadskie district of Breslau, the private school for daughters from upper class families. Johanna must have felt the anonymity of a larger city afforded her daughter better protection.

 

Figure 1. Johanna Bruck née Gräbsch at the helm of her Adler automobile with her daughter Renate and husband, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck, in a pre-war photo reflective of their upper-class lifestyle

 

Figure 2. Dr. Walter Bruck with his wife and daughter

 

My cousin Thomas Koch discovered an interesting thing when he examined the Berlin Address Books following Johanna and Renate’s move to Berlin. Johanna is not listed in the 1942 directory, though this may simply have been a function that her move occurred after the directory went to press. However, more mystifying is that she is not listed in the 1943 Berlin Address Book. There are several possible explanations: (1) sloppiness on the part of the publisher in updating the 1943 Address Book; (2) Johanna and Renate lived at Xantener Straße 24 but under the name of another person because of Renate’s racial status as a mischling. This possibility seems unlikely because it would have made obtaining ration cards very difficult and would have been contradictory to the openly, social lifestyle Johanna and Renate led. (3) Johanna unintentionally forgot to register properly; or (4) Johanna and Renate temporarily lived outside Berlin, which was in fact the case for a period in 1943-1944, which I will discuss below.

On May 4, 1942, Johanna makes one of the few entries suggesting the war may have started to impact the everyday lives of ordinary Germans, when she remarks, “Food very scarce!!!” While the scarcity of food is rarely mentioned again, the arrival of “care” packages from friends and relatives outside of Berlin is carefully noted throughout the diary suggesting Johanna and Renate depended on these.

In Post 109(1), I mentioned to readers that upon Renate’s arrival in Berlin, she attended the “Kunstgewerbeschule,” the School of Arts and Crafts. However, neither Johanna nor Renate ever takes her compulsory schooling seriously; numerous instances of Renate missing school are noted. According to Renate’s lifelong friend, Ina Schaesberg, Renate acquired a special skill in arts and crafts that enabled her to make “very pretty and practical things from felt that sold well and brought in money.”

Renate departed Breslau accompanied by her mother on March 19, 1942, though Renate makes a point of noting that two days prior she had visited Matthias Mehne, her future first husband, at his luthier shop to say her goodbyes. (Figure 3) There was already a clear fondness between the two of them. It seems likely Renate and Matthias met at his shop while she was taking violin lessons there. According to Bettina Mehne, Matthias’s daughter by his second marriage, lessons were given not by Matthias himself but by his good friend, a man named “Kulenkampf.”

 

Figure 3. Renate Bruck’s first husband, Matthias Eugen Walter Mehne, at his luthier shop in Berlin in a post-war photo

 

Regardless, immediately after Matthias’s arrival in Berlin in February 1943, he called Renate and they become inseparable until he was forced to enlist in the Wehrmacht towards the latter part of April 1943. Readers may recall from Post 108 that Matthias was found to have helped a Jewish detainee and friend, Anita Lasker-Wallfisch, escape a Sammellager in Breslau, a collection camp for Jewish deportees, with his rucksack in hand. As punishment, the judge, a friend, forced him to join the army rather than let the Gestapo kill him as they had wanted to, figuring he would be killed anyway. Clearly, Matthias’s departure from Breslau, did not prevent the Wehrmacht from finding him there, so his relocation to Berlin was more likely related to his blossoming relationship with Renate than an attempt to avoid military conscription.

By around the 22nd of April 1943, Matthias was forced to present himself in Paris for induction into the German Army, but not without first talking to Johanna about his future with Renate according to an entry before his departure. It took me a while to work out that Renate and her mother referred to Matthias as “boy” throughout much of the diary, possibly because of his youthful demeanor or for some other unknown reason. He was clearly Renate’s primary love interest (Figure 4), though a man named “Gerhard” (surname unknown) was also vying for her affection at the time, a man her twin daughters claim was a love interest for years after the war following her marriage and divorce from Matthias.

 

Figure 4. Renate Bruck and her first husband Matthias Eugen Walter Mehne in Berlin in 1947-48 following his release form British captivity

 

Before backtracking and telling readers about some historic events of WWII I would have expected to be discussed in the Tagebuch, let me briefly tell followers what happened to Matthias following his enlistment. Renate received news of Matthias’s capture on October 12, 1943. He was evidently assigned to the Italian theater-of-war. The Allies landed in Sicily in around July 1943, and by September 1943 had invaded the Italian mainland. Matthias was captured by the Americans in Italy, but quickly turned over to the British and interned as a prisoner of war near Nottingham, England. Renate received her first letter from him dated the 27th of February 1944 about a month later, on the 26th of March 1944. I want to emphatically emphasize that Matthias was not a Nazi but was forced as punishment to enlist in the Wehrmacht because of the courage he had shown trying to help a Jew escape an internment camp in Breslau.

On her 17th birthday on the 16th of June 1943, Renate received a diamond ring. While there is no reason to think this was connected to Matthias, who was by then in the German Army, the day after receiving his first letter in March 1944 following his British internment, Renate celebrated what Johanna referred to as Renate’s “engagement day.” Might Matthias have proposed in his letter? Possibly.

At the beginning of February 1943, the Axis forces including Germany’s 6th Army and its foreign allies surrendered in Stalingrad following a brutal battle that had lasted five months, one week, and three days. There is nary any mention of this development during the war in Johanna’s diary. Nor is there any mention of the “Rosenstrasse Protest” that took place in Berlin during February and March 1943, which fundamentally affected Renate and other mischlinge. This demonstration was initiated and sustained by the non-Jewish wives and relatives of Jewish men and mischlinge who had been arrested and targeted for deportation, based on the racial policy of Nazi Germany. What started out with dozens, then hundreds of women protesting, eventually turned into thousands of women demonstrating in icy winter weather over seven days, until 1,700 Berlin Jews herded together into the Jewish community house on Rosenstrasse near Alexanderplatz were freed. The Rosenstrasse protest is considered a significant event in German history as it was the only mass public demonstration by Germans in the Third Reich against the deportation of Jews. One can only imagine how much horror and misery might have been avoided had such protestations by Germans occurred much earlier. To my cousin Thomas Koch this is very personal since his grandmother and future mother were among the Rosenstrasse protestors, and his Jewish grandfather among those freed.

Let me turn now to an entry made by Renate on the 11th of May 1943, in which she noted that she would not be accepted in the Reich Labor Service, the Reichsarbeitsdienst or RAD. The Reich Labor Service was a major organization established in Nazi Germany to help mitigate the effects of unemployment on the German economy, militarize the workforce, and indoctrinate it with Nazi ideology. It was the official state labor service, divided into separate sections for men and women. So called “half-breeds,” mischlinge, were not excluded from labor service. The mother of my cousin Thomas, like Renate also a mischling, was in the Reichsarbeitsdienst in 1940. Thus, it is a source of irritation to Thomas that Renate was somehow able to avoid the labor service. Were the conditions “tightened” for Renate through contacts Johanna had that “prevented” her from being accepted? Or was Renate’s non-acceptance intended to protect her from something or exclude her from something contrary to the rules? We may never know the answers to these questions.

Years ago, when I was still working with Thomas Koch trying to discover where Johanna and Renate Bruck had gone after they left Breslau, which we now know to have been in February-March 1942, Thomas shared with me an application that had been submitted by a woman named Ms. Edith Czeczatka to the Tracing Service of the German Red Cross in 1948. Ms. Czeczatka requested information on the whereabouts of Johanna and Renate and gave as their residential address in the town of Erfurt, Germany, Dammweg 9. (Figures 5a-b) I mentioned this in Post 83, even including a picture of the residential building where they lived. (Figure 6) Johanna and Renate’s association with Erfurt was a mystery until the discovery of their Tagebuch.

 

 

Figure 5a. 2019 letter to my cousin Dr. Thomas Koch from the “Deutsches Rotes Kreuz Generalsekretariat Suchdienst,” the German Red Cross’s Tracing Service, responding to his request for information about Renate Bruck; this letter cites a 1948 request for information on Johanna and Renate from a former neighbor when they lived at Dammweg 9

 

 

Figure 5b. Translation of 2019 letter from the German Red Cross’s Tracing Service to my cousin Dr. Thomas Koch

 

Figure 6. The apartment building at Dammweg 9 in Erfurt, Germany where Johanna and Renate Bruck lived after Renate was employed by the MAKO Maschinen Co. GMBH as a draftswoman

 

 

An entry on the 22nd of May 1943 explains why Renate accompanied by Johanna temporarily moved to Erfurt that year. That day, Renate was told to come for an interview at the employment office of “MAKO Maschinen Co. GMBH”; she’d apparently applied for and been hired as a technical draftswoman beginning on June 1st. More on this company below. The company had offices in both Berlin and Erfurt, but Renate was required to report to Erfurt beginning on the 17th of June 1943 for training. Almost immediately, the girls that had been hired were given two months of paid vacation until the drawing rooms were readied. It is clear from the diary that Renate was permanently assigned to work in Erfurt.

Towards the beginning of September 1943, prior to moving to Erfurt, Johanna and Renate went to visit family and friends in Breslau, then spent a few days vacationing in Jannowitz, Silesia [today: Janowice Wielkie, Poland], before returning to Breslau, then leaving for Erfurt on September 12, 1943. For the period of her employment, Renate and her mother lived in Erfurt on weekdays, then returned to Berlin on weekends.

It appears that for at least a year until September 24, 1944, Johanna and Renate lived with a family called the “Hallers.” Then, on September 25, 1944, they moved within Erfurt into the house at Dammweg 9, previously mentioned, where the “Maulhardt” family also lived. Presumably, this was a boarding house the family owned.

Let me digress now and briefly discuss the MAKO Maschinen Co. GMBH that Renate worked for. MAKO was a company network owned by Max Kotzan, and the name was a combination of letters from his first and last name. The 1943 Berlin Address Book identified the various components of the business which included chemical-technical and metallurgical development; machine factories; and apparatus engineering and construction. Curious to get a better handle on what the company actually produced, I came upon an obscure reference which I found intriguing because it shed light on Germany’s efforts to develop solid fuel rockets, which might well have changed the trajectory of the war. Quoting briefly from a publication entitled “The V2 and the Russian and American Rocket Program” by Claus Reuter:

More and more information is now surfacing telling of the launch of a ballistic missile powered by solid propellant near Arnstadt just before the war ended.  [EDITOR’S NOTE: Arnstadt is a town in Thuringia, Germany, about 20 kilometers south of Erfurt. During the Second World War, it was the site of a prisoner-of-war camp, mainly for Poles and Russians.]. Many believe it was this missile which was to carry a nuclear payload. The missile was developed in the top-secret think-tank installation at the Skoda factory under the control of the SS-Obergruppenfuehrer Kammler. . . .

. . . Most historians and experts say that because of the shortage of solid propellants the missile was never produced and that no nuclear program existed.

More and more eyewitness accounts surface telling us a different story, accounts which say the missile was launched successfully. Also, a photo surfaced showing a large missile being built at the MAKO factory in Rudesleben, Thuringia. It shows the Sonderrakete A-4 (Special Rocket A-4) for solid fuel. The launch took place nearby at one of the top-secret factories in Thuringia the Polte 2 plant. The plant was controlled by SS-Obergruppenfuehrer Kammler.

The MAKO plant specialized in the construction of pressure tanks and also produced equipment for the Luftwaffe, like drop tank, for the rocket program oxygen tanks for the V-1 and also mobile liquid oxygen transport tanks for the V-2 rocket batteries. The MAKO was owned by Maz Kotzan. Kotzan as a WWI flyer had close connections to Hermann Goering and Ernst Udet, both WWI pilots. The MAKO received the contracts from the RLM [EDITOR’S NOTE: Nazi Germany’s Ministry of Aviation, “Reichsluftfahrtministerium,” abbreviated RLM]. Behind the Polte 2 plant Kotzan had erected two aircraft hangers and a landing strip.

Here personalities like SS-Obergruppenfuehrer Kammler or Wernher von Braun arrived to visit some of the installations. In the MAKO and Polte 2 plants some of the top-secret developments were tested. It was here that the Americans found the top-secret radar-absorbing aircraft paint. The paint was immediately shipped to the U.S.

I am obviously no rocket scientist, pardon the pun, so suffice it to say the advantage of a solid motor is that it can provide huge amounts of thrust, and is therefore used as a booster to make satellite launching rockets gain high initial velocity before using higher-efficient liquid motors to gain horizontal velocity above the densest part of the atmosphere. There seems little doubt that had the Nazis been able to master this technology and place fissile material atop a missile powered by solid fuel, at a minimum, the war would have dragged on and more misery and death occurred.

I will readily acknowledge to readers that I have veered quite a distance from Johanna and Renate’s diary, but this was primarily in the interest of drawing attention to the company for which Renate worked, which was obviously deeply involved in Germany’s arms development. There is virtually no mention in their diary of Johanna and Renate’s time in Erfurt, except for their continuing active social lives. However, it is safe to assume that part of their reticence to talk about Erfurt could be connected to statements of secrecy they were sworn to. Clearly, as a mischling Renate wanted to draw as little attention to herself as possible, and it’s somewhat surprising the company even hired her given her status.

Evidently, by virtue of Renate’s amorous relationship with Matthias Mehne, her future first husband, she and Johanna had gotten to know Matthias’s parents, referred to as “Ma and Pa” in the diary and his sister “Lu,” short for Luzie. Matthias’s parents were Albert Eugen Mehne (b. 1883, Dresden) and Hedwig Gertrud Marie Göbel. Johanna and Renate regularly visited, received packages, and stayed in touch with them during Matthias’s wartime absence. While a reference I found states Albert Eugen Mehne moved to Gelsenkirchen, Germany around 1922 (Figure 7), which is about 500 miles due west of Breslau, Johanna and Renate always visited them in Breslau during the war, suggesting Matthias’s parents had returned there at some point.

 

Figure 7. Obscure reference from “Amati Auctions” mentioning that Renate’s future father-in-law, Eugen Mehne, worked in Gelsenkirchen, Germany after 1922

 

Surprisingly, Johanna and Renate traveled quite extensively during the years 1942 through 1944. While there were periodic disruptions and delays on account of the war, amazingly the trains continued to run on a predictable schedule though often with significant delays. Among the places they stayed besides Berlin, Breslau, and Erfurt were the widely scattered towns of Friedrichroda (small town and health resort in Thuringia), Babelsberg, Potsdam, Jannowitz, Neuendorf and Kantreck in Pomerania bordering the Baltic Sea, and Hamburg. They clearly knew people in many of these places, but others were seemingly vacation destinations.

Not surprisingly, the war had an impact on the lives of Johanna and Renate, although this fact is rarely manifested in the diary. However, on the night of February 16, 1944, the Allies launched a major bomb attack against Berlin, and the following day Johanna was notified by teletype that “our apartment had suffered greatly.” Then, on February 18th, Johanna remarks “Our apartment—a field of rubble, quite terrible.” It does not become clear until an entry in the early part of May 1944 that Johanna and Renate’s apartment was still habitable.

It goes without saying there are dozens and dozens more entries in Johanna and Renate’s Tagebuch reflecting on the weather, taking umbrage in air raid shelters, Johanna being hospitalized, and much more. Readers should realize I’ve been very selective in the entries I’ve chosen to highlight to make this post engaging and more reflective of the wartime events that had to have impacted Johanna and Renate’s lives. My intent is merely to give followers a glimpse into the lives that my ancestors Johanna and Renate Bruck lived during WWII (Figure 8), and how surprisingly “normal” their existence seems to have been given the enormity of death and destruction that surrounded them.

 

Figure 8. Post-WWII photo of Renate and Johanna Bruck in England

 

REFERENCE

Reuter, Claus (2000). The V2, and the Russian and American Rocket Program. (2nd ed.). Repentigny, Quebec (Canada): S.R. Research & Publishing.

 

 

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

“War is the only game in which both sides lose.”—Walter Scott

“There’s no honorable way to kill, no gentle way to destroy. There is nothing good in war. Except its ending.”—Abraham Lincoln

 

Note: This post is Part II about my father’s married Protestant friends from Danzig whom he befriended in the early 1930’s, and further information I recently uncovered about them and the fates of their relatives.

Related Post:

Post 67: The Suspiciously Brutal Deaths of My Father’s Protestant Friends from Danzig, Gerhard & Ilse Hoppe (Part I)

 

Figure 1. Ilse & Gerhard Hoppe

 

In Part I of this Blog post, I somewhat unrealistically anticipated I would uncover much more information on precisely how my father’s Protestant friends from Danzig, Ilse and Gerhard Hoppe (Figure 1), met their gruesome ends there, respectively, in 1940 and 1941. This expectation was based on the fact I was able to locate their daughter Gisela Hoppe (as I will refer to her throughout this post), born in 1939, through a German government-connected friend. It turns out Gisela survived the war and is still alive and living in Wildeshausen, Germany, having recently turned 80. This friend gave me an address and Gisela’s married name, so I naively assumed getting in touch with her would be relatively straight-forward. This was not the case.

Let me give readers a little more background before relating what I was able to learn. Peter Hanke, the gentleman affiliated with “forum.danzig.de,” whom I’ve mentioned in recent posts, offered to write a letter on my behalf to Gisela. He volunteered to help because he’d earlier attempted to find out more about Gerhard and Ilse Hoppe from the Polish State Archives in Malbork, thinking perhaps they would have their death certificates. He learned such documents were destroyed by fire at the end of WWII by invading Russian troops, so the search became moot. I explained in Part I of this post I stumbled upon Gerhard and Ilse Hoppe’s death certificates independently in ancestry.com, as well as their 1932 marriage certificate showing they wed in the Marienkirche in Marienberg [today: Malbork, Poland]. (Figures 2a-b) Upon finding these documents, I sent them to Peter suspecting he’d be interested.

Figure 2a. Interior view of the Marienkirche in Marienberg (today: Malbork, Poland), where Gerhard and Ilse Hoppe got married on the 30th of July 1932
Figure 2b. Another interior view of the Marienkirche in Marienberg where Gerhard and Ilse married in 1932

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Knowing Gisela’s married name and residence, I initially asked Peter if he could call her on my behalf; her phone number, so he was told, was unlisted, so he offered to write to her instead. I drafted a letter, which Peter translated and mailed in early November 2019. Both of us expected an almost instantaneous response given I’d included a few photos of Gisela’s parents from the early 1930’s and offered to share all 22 pictures from my father’s collection. I assumed this would be of great interest to Gisela since her parents had died when she was just a toddler and her memories of them would obviously be very vague or non-existent. Still, we heard nothing.

By around the middle of November, it became apparent we might not hear from Gisela at all. Regular readers know I’m persistent. I began to consider Gisela Hoppe no longer lives in Wildeshausen and tried to determine this by sending an email to the Stadt Wildeshausen, the City of Wildeshausen. Writing to City Hall is an approach I’ve successfully used in the past. Still, weeks went by without a response. Unwilling to admit defeat, I asked one of my German cousins whether she could call the Stadt Wildeshausen to check on my email; the City brusquely asked her to call back at another time. Instead, my cousin called Wildeshausen information, and was given the name and number of a person with Gisela’s married surname, whom she called. Likely, this was Gisela’s elderly husband who appeared to be somewhat confused by my cousin’s call. He led my cousin to believe Gisela had returned to Poland and gave my cousin the name and number of a Polish woman in Wildeshausen who might know her whereabouts; my cousin spoke with this lady, but she could add nothing.

In retrospect, I’ve concluded Gisela visited family in Poland and was gone from Wildeshausen for several weeks when I first wrote, because finally, on December 11, 2019, Peter Hanke received an email from her confirming the receipt of my letter. Both of us were elated to have finally established contact. She does indeed still live in Wildeshausen, and naturally my letter came as a big surprise. One of Gisela’s observations was how much the young picture of her father (Figure 3) reminded her of her brother, Rudi, who died young. My independent research has not uncovered traces of this brother. More on this below.

Figure 3. The earliest picture of my father’s former friend from Danzig, Dr. Gerhard Hoppe, which may have reminded Gisela Hoppe of her older brother Rudi

 

Having at last established contact with Gisela Hoppe and continuing to use Peter Hanke as an intermediary because of Gisela’s limited English, I emailed her all my father’s pictures of her parents. She was grateful to receive these as most family pictures of her parents were lost and left behind in the frantic escape from Danzig as the Russians were approaching.

I sense I’ve opened a portal into a very painful part of Gisela’s life she would prefer to forget. As sensitively as possible, let me explain what I’ve learned. In the waning days of the war, Ilse Hoppe’s sister, Gisela’s aunt Margot, with three children of her own, wanted to take Gisela and her brother Rudi with them as they escaped the approaching Russians. Anna Hoppe, their grandmother, who was their legal guardian with her husband Otto Hoppe after their parents’ deaths, refused to let them go. This brought Gisela and her brother a great deal of misery because the arriving Russians destroyed the supplies of insulin which quickly resulted in their grandmother’s painful death from diabetes. Their grandfather Otto found them but was already ill at the time, from an unspecified cause. For reasons that are unclear, he left them alone in Danzig, and ultimately, they were sent by the Poles to Berlin where they were adopted by various foster families. Eventually, they were reunited with family and raised by their grandmother’s niece who found them through the “German Red Cross Tracing Service.”

Gisela’s older brother, Rudolf Otto Richard Gerhard Hoppe, called “Rudi,” was born on the 2nd of April 1938. He committed suicide on the 9th of January 1965 in Göttingen, Germany where both he and Gisela were students, reasons unclear. Growing up, Gisela’s relatives told them about their parents. Ilse committed suicide apparently on account of postpartum depression, by cutting her wrists, though her death certificate notes she cut her carotid artery. Her father Gerhard accidentally died trying to adjust the blinds in their apartment without realizing the living room window was open causing him to fall to his death (Figure 4); this would account for the traumatic injuries noted on Gerhard’s death certificate. So, while the deaths of Gisela’s parents were macabre, it would seem no foul play was involved.

 

Figure 4. Dr. Gerhard Hoppe’s death notice published by the German Dental Association in Danzig on the 28th of July 1941

Translation of Dr. Gerhard Hoppe’s death notice published by the German Dental Association:

“On July 27, 1941, our professional comrade, the Dentist Gerhard Hoppe passed away suddenly. We lose in him an always helpful, good, and upright workmate, whose memory we will cherish.

Danzig, 28th July 1941, German Dentists, Chamber of Dentists, Dr. Manteuffel”

 

 

Figure 5. 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”

 

As noted in Danzig telephone books of the time (Figure 5), Gisela and her family lived on the second floor at Karrenwall 5 (Figures 6a-b), above the police station on the ground floor. (Figure 7) Gisela’s grandmother Anna Hoppe would threaten to take she and her brother to the police if they slid down the wonderfully smooth railing in the apartment.

Figure 6a. The apartment building at Karrenwall 5/6 where Gerhard Hoppe resided and died and where Gisela lived as a young child

 

Figure 6b. Another view of the building at Karrenwall 5/6 where Gerhard Hoppe died

 

Figure 7. Floor plan of the ground level at Karrenwall 5/6 where the police station was located

 

Readers will understand my hesitancy in further exploring the war and post-war events in Gisela’s life given the tumult she’s experienced. Trite as this sounds, it’s fair to say war claims victims on all sides though one can hardly equate the tragic deaths of two non-combatant Protestant Germans to the Holocaust.